#(careful what you say around her she repeats it to everyone lmao)

[jarofstyles]

Illicit

Hello my loves! Welcome to the first part of our next mini series we've been working on behind the scenes. The next 2 parts are available immediately on Patreon now, but will be updated here in the next few weeks!

Patreon

Warnings- cheating ( WITH y/n), Asshole Harry, I hate everyone but her, old money/wealth, toxic relationship dynamic, harry is mean and will be mean but not to Y/N lmao, smut

WC- 2.4k

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Harry had just finished cleaning himself of cum as his phone rang. 

It was his girlfriend. ‘Girlfriend’, really, because this wasn’t a real relationship. Not in his mind, anyways. 

“What?” His voice was a sharp whip, already annoyed that the post orgasm bliss had been interrupted by Katherine. Y/N was sitting next to him, her leg thrown over his thigh as fingers traced over his chest, absentminded circles pausing when she heard his attitude already. Her brow raised as he lifted the phone to show the name on the screen, making her nod, lips turning down. That irritated him further. 

“When are you coming to get me?” A voice that pierced his ears made him close his eyes, a dull throb beginning to coast down his head. “Daddy said you’re coming to the event and you were going to pick me up!” 

She was huffing like a child, not wanting to wait. Realistically, he would leave in 30 minutes. Y/N would stay curled up in his bed and wait for him to come home before he took her away to one of his family cabin’s with the rest of their friend group- the ones who knew of him and Y/N. He would spend the entire night trying to think of an excuse to get back to her early, and hoping Katherine wouldn’t throw a fit about not being able to come on this ‘business trip’.  

“You live with your father. Could you have not shared a ride?” His tone was icy, something Y/N had never been the recipient of. Thank god, really. As sexy as it was to hear him talk like that to other people, it would definitely make her cry. The man was intense, even he knew that, but not everyone seemed to catch on. 

“Hazza! Come on.” She whined. “He already left and stopped by the office. I’m getting ready now but we have to be early for the photos!” As if that was going to help her cause. It was like the girl had a handbook on how to say the wrong things. 

Harry didn’t do those stupid step and repeats. While Katherine loved being the center of attention, it wasn’t something Harry desired. In actuality, he detested it. He hated paparazzi and had broken 2 cameras from having them in his face without a second glance. No aggression, the picture of calm with pure ice on his face as he did so. If they valued their possessions, they shouldn’t be shoving them in people’s way. That’s what he thought, at least. 

“I’ll be there in an hour. I’m not doing those photos. I don’t care what you do. Now stop calling me when I'm in the middle of things. You know if I don’t answer once, wait for further instruction.” He paused. “And stop calling me that childish nickname. I don’t find it cute or endearing, it’s embarrassing. Goodbye.”

There was a sharp squeak as he hung up the phone and threw it to the ground, rolling Y/N around onto her back and sliding his still sticky cock back inside of her yet again. His annoyance was clear on his face, but it quickly melted away as her arms wrapped around him and her lips covered his face with soft coos, legs pulling him in deeper. Maybe she was a bit sore, maybe his last load was still dripping out of her messy hole, but she knew exactly how the man needed to express himself. 

“I know.” Her silky voice wrapped around his tension and broke it down, slow thrusts inside of her quelling the bubbling irritation in his stomach and turning it into arousal. Y/N could read his stone cold features, knew what his eye twitch meant, the simple movement of a brow or the tiniest down or upturn of lip. This magnificent woman seemed to have him all figured out, and he felt like shit for having to leave and be seen with another woman. “I know, baby. Only a few more months.” Fingers stroked his hair back, guiding his lips to her own.

 He kissed her back, eyes squeezing shut as he allowed himself to lose the anger that had developed by focusing on her. The heat of her cunt wrapped up tight around him, snug. Fitting him perfectly, just as it always had. Y/N was the one he had wanted to take to these things, but he had to wait. For once, his patience wasn’t being practiced. 

The best thing in his life had to be hidden from most people, all because he had taken a stupid deal. He had to go out with the girl who thought she was going to be the next Mrs.Styles, while all he wanted to do was stay nestled in his luxury sheets with Y/N’s soft, supple body to worship. 

It was all his fault, though. 

He had always been ambitious. Ruthless, some may say, but he knew that to a degree he could be cruel to get what he wanted. That was how had been raised. His father had put that right into his head, doing anything for success, power, money… that’s how he ended up in this situation. 

In order to secure the deal of a lifetime, he had agreed to date the man’s daughter. Maybe that sounded cruel, but he knew the intentions from the get go. The man was using his conventionally pretty, high society daughter to try and sweeten the deal- but he knew the true motivation. An attempt to get him into the family and continue having control of the company through his daughter’s supposed relationship with him. If only he had been smarter, if he had done more research. He would know he was sending a sacrificial lamb right into Harry’s awaiting lion jaws. 

See, she had been no stranger to him. Katherine had been after him for quite a while. They were acquainted to a certain degree, running in similar circles and society dinners. The crush, more so the obsession she had with Harry had been no secret to anyone. She claimed to have been in love with him, but Harry knew what it truly was. A lust for money. An infatuation with the power he could secure her. She loved what Harry could represent for her, not only to secure place in the society she had been thrown into as she grew up- but to elevate it. She knew the score, knew what Harry’s ring could mean. 

Katherine knew nothing of his true personality, his likes, his dislikes, his jokes. All of those things were reserved for the tiniest selection of people that she only knew of in passing. His real friends barely touched that superficial, vapid, bitter world. Katherine’s family was new money, looking to secure their place in society. Harry’s wealth went in decades, and it would most likely stay that way. Her vying for his attention didn’t shock him in the slightest. 

The condition of dating Katherine for at least a year had been one he had wanted to scoff at, one he had wanted to tell Mr. Eugene Brant that it would be obvious what it was, but he was smart enough to bite his tongue and agree. Playing stupid was a superpower, letting him think he got one over on Harry and vastly overestimating his daughter’s appeal. One year of being toted around with her overly big smile and his signature scowl on his face hadn’t been an issue. It was something he would merely go through the motions of until the exact year was up and she would be out of his life. 

At least, it hadn’t been until he met Y/N. 

The first woman who had ever captured his heart and soul. Softened the edges of his razor sharp glare.

She hadn’t wanted to give him the time of day once she realized he had been flirting whilst not single. She hadn’t known the deceptive relationship and it hadn’t been her fault, but that didn’t mean Harry was going to leave well enough alone. Even after she had dumped her  Shirley temple on his brand new pure cotton button up. 

If anything, it made him want her more. 

One thing about Harry? He was going to get what he wanted. He would bet anything on it. He was patient, stubborn, and fixated. Checking guest lists to see if she’d be in attendance to parties, see if she was going to hang out with his friend group, he was on the prowl to get her to talk again. 

She had blocked his number already- he didn’t really have a chance to explain. He understood why, but that didn’t mean he was going to give up. 

When he finally did have the shot to tell her the relationship was a hoax, she was still doubtful. Dubious looks sent his way as he had pulled them into a private room of the club they were at- one his father owned, funnily enough- his hand holding hers as he sat beside her to plead his case. He was strong and defiant, insisting that it was a means to an end and there was no clause saying he couldn’t date other people- but he would like to get to know her on a real level. 

Against her better judgment, Y/N had fallen for the soft green eyes, the soft looking lips with the sharp cupid's bow and his even sharper tongue. Giving him one date was all he needed to get her on board. 

Fidelity wasn’t a term in the contract he had signed. Stupid, stupid mistake on Brant’s part. A new money, no lawyer to look over, a hasty mistake that would most definitely come to bite him in the ass. Harry hadn’t honored fidelity in the slightest even before he met Y/N. Sex was an outlet for him, as was the gym, things that were pleasurable and stress relieving. He’d only slept with Katherine a handful of times, tapering that off when he saw it made her get more and more attached. She had obviously known Harry had a reputation and while the sex had been alright, there hadn’t been much to his benefit besides the fact that she swallowed his load. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t that hard to find willing participants. 

Sex with Y/N had completely rocked his world. He thinks, in part, it was because they had a real connection. She made him wait, she made him work his way up to that if he wanted- and made him stop sex with anyone else. As if he had any interest in anyone else. Y/N had taken up the majority of his brain that wasn’t filled with revenue and contracts and contacts and emails. She was his escape. 

The first time they had sex, Harry had fallen for her. There was no question in his mind. Despite being positive that he wouldn’t ever marry for love, Y/N had him questioning that. She had flipped his entire world view upside down, made him weak in the knees. 

Y/N wasn’t in the public eye. Her family had some elite ties, but she was friends with a lot of the quietly wealthy people who didn’t feel the need to showcase it to everyone who looked with tacky labels and monograms. She’d gotten into one of the best schools, gotten her degree and continued her friendship with her roommates and best friends- who just happened to be the girlfriends of some of his best mates. The real ones. There were only a few single members of the groups, and Y/N had been the new blood that had people wondering. Harry had been interested immediately. 

It was about 4 months into their relationship and everything still felt fantastic. Y/N knew more about Harry than anyone else ever could. She was the one with the key to the future, even if she didn’t know the exact depths his feelings went to. 

“I don’t want to go.” His lips parted from hers. “I want to stay here… want to stay buried inside of you, want to feed you your chocolate and lick it from your tongue.” Inhaling his words, she moaned as his hips rolled and he found his home back at her most sensitive spot. He had spent hours finding it, claiming it, and he knew it was his. “Spent all week working… I just want my sweet Angel.”

Noses brushed against one another, Y/N’s bleary eyes opening up to look at his own. Hazy, dark green, hooded. She gently dragged her nails over his shoulder blades, arching up into him and pressed a bit harder on the skin to make him moan in surprise. “You have me, Harry.” She whispered. “You have me now. Leave with my traces on your cock… then come back and take more. We leave tomorrow… and you can hold me how you like. Kiss me. Our friends don’t care. They’ll keep our secret.” Even if it was forbidden, their tight knit group knew exactly what the relationship between Harry and Katherine really was- and none really liked her. They knew Y/N made him happy, softened him up, they’d all been rooting for this. Their safe space. The only ones who knew. 

“She won’t ever have me.” He reassured. “I’m yours. I want your marks on me.” Breathing harder, his thrusts getting a bit more deep. “Make me bleed. C’mon, my sweet girl. Paid for those nails… give me what I want.” Her cunt quivered around his prick, making him smile. She pretended not to like that sort of thing, but she got them done specifically for this. To quench his thirst for pain, for marks. They loved it. “She’ll never have me like this. I’m yours.” He whimpered, the freak of the bed and their noises filling the room. “M’yours, baby. My sweet Angel… stay in my bed and wait for me. I’ll give you everything. Just wait for me.” 

She would. She would wait for him, to be his fully, as long as it took.

[haveateadude]

bleak horizons iii.

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ opening up it's not easy, isn't it?

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, self-harm mention, and disordered eating (not explicitly mentioned but you can clearly see it's there)

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ helloooo welcome to part 3!!!!!! i think this might be the last part (if u have an idea on how this can continue feel free to tell me. u can send a request or just leave the idea in the comments). also just saying, this stuff is based on MY issues and experiences with mental health, so this might not be truthful to everyone. my insta is @/starsfinder_ if anyone wants to vent or just talk :))

remember you're not alone if you're going through a shitty moment, trust me!! ik everyone says to ask for help, and even if that's soo fucking true i know some people are not listened (even if that's literally a fucking RIGHT). so, as i said, you can dm me <33 take care of yourselves pleaseee. can't stress enough how much i want y'all to know you're not alone. hi. hello. i care!!!!!!!! and i'm here!!!!!! so please listen to me when i say everything's going to be alright :)) i love youuuuuu

also, sorry for any mistakes. i'm sooo tired rn lmao

pt1 — pt2 — pt3

I told you a lie, désolé, mon amour

I'm trying my best, don't know what's in store

The next week, I stepped out of therapy crying. I got into the car, slamming the door.

“Hey,” Ellie says softly, looking at me with her hands resting on the wheel, her gaze full of worry. “You okay?”

“Drive.”

“But—”

“Just drive.”

“Okay.”

Ellie starts driving. I wipe my tears, feeling overwhelmed. My mother had called yesterday and made me feel like shit. I wasn't doing my best at school. Ellie and I hadn't gone out since Christmas. So basically, everything was shit. I've also had urges to relapse, and they're just not going away.

I cry. Ellie drives. This is okay. It's okay. Except that it's not, and I haven't told my therapist anything about myself yet. My mother hasn't spoken to me in weeks, and my father sent a cat video on WhatsApp this morning. And Ellie’s knuckles are turning white from how hard she’s gripping the wheel, which makes my heart ache because I know she cares. It makes me want to tell her everything, but the words are stuck in my throat, and I can't seem to get them out.

We arrive at the apartment a couple of minutes later. Ellie doesn’t immediately open the doors, and I've calmed down enough to answer when she asks, “Baby? Are you feeling okay?”

I nod, looking away. The people that I see walking around look sad.

“I’m fine.”

“It’s okay if you’re not, though,” she says. I stay quiet, doubting it. Ellie nudges me with her elbow, looking for an answer. “Hey.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I know.”

Ellie pats me on the thigh before getting out of the car. I get out, too. I don't bother eating dinner that night; I just go straight to bed and fall asleep.

The next few days felt monotonous. I've fallen back into my sadness, the type that isn't bitter but sweet. It doesn't make me want to relapse. It makes me want to stay in bed more hours than I'd like, takes my appetite away, and leaves me feeling nothing but numbness.

I wake up, go to work, study, attend uni, come home, and sleep. The cycle repeats and repeats, and I'm so, so very tired.

Today, I took the day off. I knew I was too tired to do anything, so I planned to rot in bed. Ellie knocks on the door, but I don't answer. I hear the door creak open and the light from the living room creeping in.

"Hey," Ellie says, her voice coming from behind me. "Mind if I lay next to you?"

"It's fine," I say with a hoarse voice. I feel the bed sink at my side, and then Ellie is behind me, wrapping her arm around my torso and nuzzling her face into my neck, leaving a kiss right there. I feel cozy and comfortable. I don't know if this will last. I hope it does because it's a feeling I've never experienced before—someone comforting me? That has never happened.

"Do you want to talk about what's going on?" she asks. I stay quiet. "I care about you. I'm worried."

I do want to talk about it, but at the same time, I don't.

"I'm fine."

"You always say that… You haven't gotten out of bed since you came from work, and the frozen lasagna you were going to make for yourself last weekend has been in the fridge since then." She stays quiet for a second, her fingertips caressing my arm. "You're not doing fine, baby."

Millions of thoughts go through my head. Thoughts I don't say. I don't want her to leave; I don't want her to see how I feel.

"I'm trying, though." It's easy to say since Ellie isn't looking at my face directly. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes. I blink them away; I blink, blink, and blink again. Fast.

Ellie stays quiet, her breath tickling my neck. She kisses the back of my head again, her hand holding mine. I hold it to my chest. "I know. But you don't have to be alone in this."

That hits me like a truck. I wasn't expecting to be held by her, let alone her saying I don't have to be alone. A tear falls from my eye, landing on the pillow. I sniff, and Ellie holds me tighter, not saying anything. She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear with her free hand and kisses my temple.

"I'm sorry," I say, in a moment of pathetic weakness. She hugs me even closer.

"Hey, no. Don't apologize. C'mon, turn around."

I let go of her hand, turning around. Her left hand cups my face and she kisses my cheek, then my forehead, and then she kisses the tears that fall on my cheeks. When she pulls away, she gives me a small smile, "You're going to be okay."

She doesn't want you. She's your friend; she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think, she'll leave.

I wake up on Ellie's chest, it feels good to be comforted, I've found. Her phone is on the nightstand, so I just reach it and look at the time. It's eight o'clock. I've fallen asleep for two hours. I try to make myself more comfortable on her chest, attempting not to wake her, but my movements fail and she stirs.

"Hey," she says, her voice still laced with sleep. "What time is it?"

"It's still night," I say, closing my eyes. "We slept for two hours.'

"Feeling better?" I feel comfortable enough to shake my head. "Do you want to talk about it? I told you, I'm worried. And don't bullshit me with the whole 'I'm fine' shit, yeah?"

I stay quiet as her thumb caresses my back, "Did I tell you why I'm going to therapy?" Ellie shakes her head. "Well—back home I had some… issues. Mental health stuff related. I kept going back to depressive episodes. And one day I just asked for help from my mom, because I—I just couldn't stop self harming."

"Baby," Ellie says, hugging me tighter and kissing the top of my head. "What happened? Did your mother react well?"

"Yeah. Surprisingly. I got help. Got better. Sometimes it comes back, and I still get urges sometimes, but I can control it. It isn't as bad as it was before. But lately, it's just—yeah."

"You don't do that anymore, do you?" She asks, worried.

"No," I shake my head. "Not anymore."

"And what about the urges, do you still get them?" I nod, slowly. Ellie plays with my hair. "And therapy? Is it helping?"

"I haven't told her anything, yet. I—I don't know, I can't talk about it."

"What if I go to the next session? If you're okay with that, of course. If you still don't feel comfortable we can look for another therapist or another way to get you help."

I hide my face in her chest when she says the last word. I don't know why I've been refusing to get help. I don't know why I don't like that word. I sigh as Ellie stops playing with my hair and begins rubbing my back.

"I think—I think I would like it if you go with me."

"Okay. Okay, then. I'll go." The room falls to silence again for a few seconds. I feel ashamed for telling her. "I'm sorry you have to go through this… I wish I could do more."

"You're doing more than enough," I assure her. It's my time to hug her tighter. "You’re the first person I’ve talked to about this."

"Yeah?" She seems surprised. "I'm glad you talked to me. I'm here for you if you need anything—I mean it. You just have to tell me, I will listen… You could've told me sooner."

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't apologize. I’m just saying, I'm here for you. I've been there for you, always. And… is there something I can do to help?"

"Just be there," I say. "That's enough."

"Mhm, I'll stay."

I think she wants you, a little voice in my head says. I think she loves you, and I don't think she'll ever leave.

Maybe I'll be okay, after all.

[lillymakesart]

do you think canon mizu and spoiled brat mizu would get along??

ok hear me out, i actually think that yes they would eventually get along because spoiled brat mizu is actually a BETTER fighter than canon mizu let me explain

spoiled brat mizu, like canon mizu, is extremely stubborn and persistent and has spent her entire making her dad and everyone around her into her own personal army of simps and bitches so she understands the value of patience and persistence over time

ask daddy and the answer is no? demand it again, LOUDER with a carefully curated level of unsufferableness, and daddy will say yes

tea is not made exactly the way you want it? throw a hissy fit, wait for the rumors to get around, and next time tea will be made EXACTLY the way you want it

repeat ad infinitum until bending to your will is like breathing air. for spoiled mizu it's all about the results, she doesn't care what you have to do to achieve it

apply this to one of spoiled mizu's random whims, e.g. an interest in martial arts. maybe she'd be bad at it but i think she would treat her own body like one of her simps and constantly demand that it perform at the level she wants. she would probably practice tirelessly until her servants beg her to take a break because all she cares about is seeing the exact result she wants

in this way she foils canon mizu in internal motivation -> instead of being driven by self hatred, she is driven by an insane level of self love, self preservation, self interest in getting getting only the best for herself

that plus daddy's money means she gets 24/7 access private tutors, not just in sword training but martial arts, various weapons training, self defense, etc until she is satisfied

that said i think spoiled mizu would definitely be more hedonistic, e.g. she would love self care days, spoil herself with food, spa, entertainment, etc. if she needs to be in the woods, she won't camp, she's gonna G L A M P

so in conclusion spoiled mizu is also a strong fighter, probably better than canon mizu because she actually eats well, is not nutrient deficient, and incredibly results focused. but she would also be incredibly lazy, only fight when she wants to, not self sacrificial or keen on discomfort at all. i think canon mizu would respect her hustle as a fighter but their relationship would definitely start out as rocky because spoiled mizu is INSUFFERABLE lmao send post

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: Jirou and Denki's likes are far and between. Jirou likes Denki and Denki likes Jirou anyway. A/N: I was listening to Wild Side by ALI when I thought of them and you should too. (Actual a/n: It was so fun imagining all of this! I based them off some actual events between me and my friends. The homeless one is an actual thing my best friend and I do lmao, sit outside the mall's store and eat while our gang illegally take our photos and call us beggars) WARNINGS: Some mild swearing and a lot of probable inaccuracies for the sake of the plot and because I haven't finished MHA yet

It is wonderful my life

Jirou likes the name Jamming Whey and Denki likes the name Jirou-Jack.

Obviously the both of them detest the nickname the other’s given, or so everyone thought, based on the poking from Jirou’s end and dramatic sighing from Denki’s. Not that it stopped them from calling each other that at all opportunities. It was endearing to watch to the class; it was a trifle odd for the Bakusquad, for when they tried to use it…

“Um, what?”

“Sorry bro, but that ain’t for you to use!”

Mina thinks it’s funny, how it’s like a codename for only each other. Suspiciously so.

Please could you kiss my name

This round’s exercise of heroes versus villains is different.

The villains were Todoroki and Momo, so Jirou and Denki would have to play it smart to win. Inside the building it had seemed like a good idea at that time to split up. Now, not so much, when Jirou found herself stuck in Todoroki’s ice as he handed her the device Aizawa had given them to stay in contact with each other. Momo, no doubt, was nearby to catch her partner unaware.

“Call Kaminari to come out.”

“…Denki, the bomb’s in the room down the hall. The door to the left.”

But then suddenly it’s Momo and Todoroki on the floor, shocked by Chargebolt’s electrical attack. Jirou breaks out of the rest of the partially melted ice herself and grudgingly slaps her partner’s hand when he raises it, hopeful for a high-five.

Todoroki twists his head around, surprise evident on his face. “How’d you know it was as trap? Jirou didn’t say anything suspicious.”

Denki bursts out laughing smugly. “She’d never call me Denki willingly - it’s always Jamming Whey…” his shoulders slump. “Unfortunately. But anyways, we won, Jirou-Jack!”

“Shut up.”

Momo wonders if that day was when Jirou finally accepted the nickname, because for once she didn’t object to it.

Todoroki admires how in sync they are.

When the music's over?

Jirou likes rock and Denki likes electronic.

They argue about it a lot. The usual which is better, yours make no sense, it's much more superior that whatever you call that music. Sometimes during study nights the books and work are forgotten, pushed aside, to make way for their heated debate. Their friends roll their eyes and ignore them; it's almost a ritualistic thing at this point.

Only Mina thinks there's something more to it - to the rest the noise just dies down when one of them whips out their phone and forces the other to listen to their music. So what if they were sitting really close to each other and occasionally lean their heads on the other's shoulder? They're sharing an earbud after all, and the wire required them to be close.

(They're sulking, the rest think, because they see the eyerolls and shoulder shoves.)

(They're in denial, Mina thinks, because she sees them smile at the same moment when it hits the chorus and hum together.)

Turn off light, it was such a sweet time

Momo thinks she’s come up with a solution.

Jirou and Denki stare at her blankly, bewildered by her sudden excited announcement that study night. She says she’s heard them arguing about what music to choose a lot; Jirou replies they do it all the time and Denki adds that it’s normal. Momo nods but repeats what she says. She hands them both her phone.

“Jazz? Yaomomo - what?”

“I thought you were the sort to listen to classical shit. This ain’t my type!”

“No one cares about your opinion right now, Jamming Whey.”

“No, no, I just thought that if the two of you can’t agree on either one of your genres you’d like to try a third option. A compromise, sort of.” Momo smiles, believing she’s provided a resolution to their squabbling. Jirou’s not, though she tries to - she’s going to miss -

“What’s with that face, Jirou-Jack?”

“Don’t elbow me!”

“We can still share earbuds…or you could just plug your jacks into my phone.”

Jirou smiles, but it’s with an eyeroll as Momo looks hopefully on. Denki plays Momo’s choice, holding the phone uncomfortably close to her face like a kid showing off his crayon drawing to his mom. “I’m still choosing which one though!”

They still argue over the music, unsurprisingly. They’re openly sharing the earbuds now, surprisingly.

Could you pray for me, my friend?

Jirou likes movie night and Denki likes the popcorn.

Most of Class 1-A is already gathered in front of the TV, sprawled on the sofas or lying on the ground. She’s a little way from him, squashed between Momo and Mina. Denki pretends he’s not staring at her when his neighbor Kirishima points it out and Bakugo explodes telling them to just pick a movie already. Most of them vote for horror.

Jirou gets up. Strange, because he knows she likes movie nights. Then he remembers, she doesn’t like horror, but her pride wouldn’t allow others to know. Denki himself wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t deduced it by her actions over time and gotten her to admit it. Her friends attempt to persuade her to stay, but she feigns tiredness.

“Why don’t we watch something else? We’ve already watched this movie like what, three times already? Boo, we literally all know what’s going to happen!”

Of course he gets pummeled by the pillows but after a little more convincing they agree to change it. He claims he needs to use the bathroom and runs out.

It's starting over time

Jirou’s not yet to her room.

He catches up and makes her turn around, ask why she left, tries to wheedle her to stay. Denki already knows her so well, so Jirou says she doesn’t like the movie. But he’s convinced them to change it, something he think she’ll like, so reluctantly she follows him back. It’s really hard to say no to Denki sometimes, Jirou thinks, then sighs as she remembers that no, it’s actually ALL the time.

They get back and find their seats been taken. No matter, he shoos a few legs away from the ground near the couch and practically forces Jirou to sit next to him. The movie’s a murder mystery; Denki worries the gory parts might affect Jirou. Unconsciously an arm slips around her shoulders and maybe he shifts a little closer. But Jirou feels it. An eyebrow is raised and Denki jerks his head back to avoid the earphone jack, tilting his head back with a protesting look.

“Get your arm off me.”

“If you get scared-”

“If you try anything, Kaminari, I'll poke your eyeballs.”

“I wasn't!”

But they end up cuddling anyway; Sero helpfully throws a blanket over them because that’s what happens every movie night, somehow.

Taking overnight

Jirou likes to sleep and Denki likes distracting himself.

It takes his mind off the fact it’s nearly 1 a.m. and if he lies down on his bed he’ll just overthink everything and probably count down how much hours of sleep he’s losing and he’s going to be so sleep deprived and tired tomorrow and then he’ll get scolded by Aizawa for not paying attention in class and be stupider than he already is and he wishes he could close his eyes and why is it so cold in the room, all his senses feel waaay too alert and man does he want some ramen-

He tries a few other things like finishing some homework or reading but his eyes don’t feel like they’re working right. Or rather they are, but everything is blurring together. Denki leans back, listens to some music and scrolls on his phone. A bad distraction but a distraction nonetheless.

But now he can’t keep his mind off wondering if he could text Jirou and just…dunno, talk? Gossip? Ask her if she wanted to get instant ramen with him? Probably because one of her songs somehow crawled their way into his playlist right now.

She’d probably yell at him for waking her up and order him to go make ramen himself. The thought seems funny to him, but then again everything is funny at night. He opens up her chat because insomniac + a-need-for-company = no self control.

(Somewhere in the back of his mind he wonders why Jirou is the first one he thinks of.)

>>hey you up?????

>>can’t sleep 💀💀

>>would anyone be mad at me if i got up right now to make ramen

>>kinda want a juicebox or something lmaoo

>>CANNOT MATH RIGHT NOW 😩😭🥴

>>sorry to wake you

Denki throws the phone to his bed after deleting everything but the last message.

Taking over blue time

He’s in the midst of actually going out to get that juicebox when there’s knocking at the door.

Denki throws open the door, electricity at the ready in case a ghost really existed and was paying a visit to all those naughty little boys who aren’t abiding by bedtime.

It's Jirou, actually, who's paying a visit.

“…hi?” His brain and mouth feels numb but he attempts to be normal. “What, couldn't sleep until you saw my handsome face?”

Jirou's face gets more annoyed and disbelieving that she was even here in the first place. “A face that's about to be punched.”

“Aw, you do miss me~” Denki yanks her inside, unable to stop his grinning. He slams the door shut. “But seriously, why’re you here?”

“Just because you deleted the text doesn’t mean I didn’t see it.”

“…oh, yeah…about that.” Denki awkwardly scratches his neck. “We don’t gotta get the ramen or anything. I’m just having trouble sleeping then.”

Perhaps not so much now, when he suddenly found his eyes about to close themselves while his head was tucked under Jirou’s and his arms looped around hers, both somewhere in the stacks of blankets and pillows and plushies lying on Denki’s bed.

“Not a word, Kaminari.”

Not that he could manage one, finally dozing off with her.

(It’s a little hard to explain to Kirishima the next morning why Jirou’s plushy is on his bed.)

If you heard that screaming, shout in your mind

Jirou likes fries and Denki likes hamburgers.

There’s not really anything to argue about for this one but they do anyway, comparing which fast food chain was better. Usually it winds up with Denki defending his honor while Jirou pokes fun at how his big mouth came about by having to stretch it to fit all his beloved burgers. Nothing different this time round as Class 1-A heads out to another shopping trip together.

Denki doesn’t want to go into the stupid store. He’s hungry. Jirou snorts and says he won’t die of starvation like he says. He whines about craving a greasy, fat hamburger. Jirou elbows him; he lingers outside the store, at the window, declaring he was going to stay outside until they could eat and if they find his corpse lying out there it was because they wouldn’t let him have lunch. Tokoyami helpfully points out that it’s still morning.

He stays out there regardless, ignoring the scoffs and snickers from a certain someone that he looked like a homeless tramp.

A very hungry tramp, Denki argues. I want a hamburger. Maybe a soda.

Taking over the shine

“Hey.”

“What…aw, hey, you got me a burger! I’m saved!” Denki eagerly peels back the wrappings, taking a huge bite and beaming at Jirou, who’s plopped down next to him. She points out the lettuce in his teeth and sips her drink, holding her own burger.

“I didn’t see you come out of the store?”

“There’s another exit at the back. Passed by a restaurant and well, you said you were hungry and I didn’t want you complaining anymore.”

“Didn’t you say I looked like a homeless tramp sitting out here?”

“…now there’s two homeless tramps.”

Denki bursts out laughing and Jirou scolds him for spraying out hamburger. You never heard me say that, she says, and Denki stores it away in his memory as he takes the drink from her proffered hand. Jirou unwraps her burger and makes a face. “This better be as good as you say.”

(Later the Bakusquad catch them feeding each other fries; Jirou complains Denki opened the wrong packet of sauce.)

Taking over the shooting star

Jirou likes the solitude and Denki likes socialising.

Which is why despite the numerous asks from her friends if she needed them Jirou declined, preferring to spend her quarantine from the flu in her own room by herself. It wasn’t too bad - she could just do whatever she wanted in bed: scroll on her phone, practice a little music, catch up on assignments…if it weren’t so damned COLD.

She’s already sneezed about a bajillion times already and the bin’s full from tissues. No matter how many layers of blankets she was trying to burrow under she just wouldn’t heat up. Maybe her tolerance for the freeze had just lowered after hanging out with Kaminari - the man was quite literally a walking electrical heater.

Speaking of Kaminari, Jirou just might have to borrow Bakugo’s nickname of Dunceface for him, because who the hell gave him permission to barge into her room like that?!

Jirou throws a plushy at him. “Get out.”

“I’m not here to pass you your homework though…you know I don’t even understand any of it myself.” Nobody asked but he plops down next to her. “I heard you were sick!”

“Less sick and more of in danger in getting frostbite,” Jirou grumbles, hugging herself and shivering.

So of course he just hauls her ass to the door and basically kidnaps her to the kotatsu.

All I was talking about was music

“Better?”

“Maybe.”

Denki smirks and pulls her closer. She doesn’t even bother fighting it, finally warming up from the combination of the kotatsu and him. Probably the stifling three thousand blankets Denki piled on them as well. At least he had the decency to kidnap her rabbit plushy as well; he paired it up with his worn, dumb Pikachu one. The one where she had won for him at an arcade to get him to stop his sulking. Hah.

“Let’s play music! My turn to pick!”

“I’m the sick one, Jamming Whey.”

“It’s my phone!”

“You’re literally borrowing-”

They both rolled around for a while before someone’s elbow, finger, knee, something touched the screen sufficiently for the phone to recognize the command and start playing. Start playing Momo’s music choice, specifically. Jirou sighs and Denki shrugs. They let it play and huddle under Mount Blanket. The plushies are kidnapped inside.

“Warm enough yet?”

“Yeah.”

(And that's called jazz!)

[callmearcturus]

more rogue nation physicality obsessing before i sleep

i would murder to get my hands on benji's e-ink laptop from this scene. its AMAZING. i would use it for everything. say goodbye to eye strain forever, holy shit.

every fleeting glimpse of Ilsa is great. ALSO ITS A SMALL THING BUT ITS HUGE TO ME: i love that under her flowy, beautiful golden dress she has like this fitted black shorts thing? because yes that makes perfect sense, if anything ever happened to the dress, she could ditch it and have something easy to move in underneath ready to go.

sorry i just think this shot is stunning, the dramatic shadows of ethan and the assassin in the foreground, the colors and lights, love it

okay like its hilarious when TC is short BUT what i love about this fight scene is that it's not a one-off joke. the guy's stature is a very big problem for Ethan. he completely no-sells the kick to center mass Ethan gives him, he doesn't stagger in the way Ethan keeps trying to do, and Ethan has no leverage on this guy. it really takes Ethan's usual combat style and causes problems.

the spinning around in unison is so funny

the amount of effort this ONE GUY takes lmao, i love it. i love when Ethan gets the shit kicked out of him! i love that Ethan (and Ilsa and others) have a Specific Fighting Style and that informs how they handle situations. There are rules to how they move and those rules are consistent.

ALSO I LOVE THE FACT THAT SOLOMON IS AT TURNADOT and if Benji didn't have to run to the lighting booth, he would have found him eventually. goddamn fucking Lane.

shout out to benji getting throw bodily into a wall too and how real it feels. AGAIN, spoke about this before, but Luther and Benji are both tech people but Benji is a field agent where Luther is an eye in the sky or mission control. Benji doesn't hesitate to throw himself into the fray and I love that repeated note.

Ilsa locks eyes with Benji and congrats Ilsa, you are now doomed to care about this fluffy lil man for the rest of the franchise. Ethan imprints on everyone and Benji gets everyone to imprint on him. Key and lock. ten out of ten.

[bestworstcase]

i just think it is very funny that the fanon characterization of salem includes both ‘terrifyingly skilled manipulator’ and ‘ does not comprehend basic emotional drives, such as love’—pick one.

in particular i’m thinking about the common reading of salem’s choices immediately before hazel punches her—that she really does just decide in a fit of pique to torture emerald and tells hazel as much because, i suppose, she arrogantly presumes he would never turn against her. always from the same people who turn around to style this character as an emotional puppetmaster effortlessly pulling everyone’s strings… except when plot convenience demands otherwise, apparently

she uses emerald to discipline hazel in 6.4—he lies to her to shield em from any retribution for their failure, salem pins him to the ground and wrings the truth out of emerald. salem knows damn well that hazel is willing to disobey her for emerald’s sake. she knows his fear of her is surpassed by his love for this girl. she intimidates emerald—and then does not actually hurt her—to make a point to hazel.

emerald fools salem by making oscar look like hazel, and salem’s reaction implies that she’s a tad surprised to find him out and about—“ah, hazel! have you gotten what we need yet?”—meaning salem would have expected hazel to be interrogating oscar. minutes later, she discovers that the lamp is missing and oscar has almost escaped with emerald’s assistance. and the lamp disappeared around the same time. so, think about this from salem’s perspective for a moment:

how did oscar leave his cell undetected?

and if emerald didn’t take the lamp, who did?

salem can tell emerald isn’t lying to her about the lamp. the confusion is genuine, and the terror when salem repeats the question is also genuine; salem drops the magic and turns away from her instead of trying to squeeze blood from that stone. from this moment onward, salem knows there are two traitors: emerald, and whoever took the lamp.

the only other people on monstra right now are hazel and neopolitan. given that salem caught emerald trying to sneak oscar out, and given that she knows how close emerald is to hazel—and how protective of em hazel is—who do you think she is most likely to suspect as the accomplice?

“ah, hazel. i found our guests—this one was helping him. take the boy back to his chamber; i have work to do with this one.”

if you read salem as a master manipulator—or if you, like me, read salem as a person with a solid grasp on the human psyche even if she lacks the social dexterity to be anything better than mediocre at manipulating people—there’s… kind of only one conclusion to draw here. she’s not an idiot. she knows how much hazel cares about emerald. she knows someone—not emerald or oscar—swiped the lamp. she knows hazel was not where she expected him to be when oscar was let out of his cell, apparently by hazel’s surrogate sister. hazel conveniently wandered out to the docks where she just caught emerald trying to escape with oscar and a bunch of kids. she turns to hazel and says loudly: look, your proxy sister is a traitor! i am going to hurt her now! before turning her back on hazel and leaning in reeeeal close with magic crackling around her hands HOW DO YOU THINK SHE EXPECTED HIM TO REACT? lmao

and then he punches her and the first thing she does is unbind all her hostages.

like. hello

[hannahbarberra162]

the difference between your yan sabo and the yan whitebeard pirates is so brilliant. like the way sabo doesn’t like seeing reader in a sad pathetic mental state compared to marco, thatch, and ace eating that shit up. sabo’s still selfish but i think his little savior complex really matches his character. i know he’ll get worse when he is not locked up and actually gets ahold of her but i still feel like he wouldn’t get enjoyment from hurting her, emotionally or physically. the way the whitebeards absolutely despise the marines and the pirates for what they did to reader, just to go onto repeat their behavior is incredibly fitting. honestly they might be worse than the people who previously enslaved reader cause at least they didn’t delude themselves into thinking they cared about her. sabo has the benefit of witnessing it, therefor i think he’d have an easier time recognizing that he’s acting just as bad as the marines were to her. i don’t think any of the whitebeards will realize it unless she went like permanently catatonic or unintentionally implied it like during a state where they can’t blame her like a panic attack or something. don’t even know if a 3rd party, like tate, telling them would snap them out of it. it’s funny cause my favorite character is ace but i sure as hell would never pick him as the better option lmao 😭😭

Nonnie, I am going to award you an honorary Masters in English Lit.

😮😮😮 Thank you for reading!!

Thank you! I don't want to say too much and ruin some surprises, but you've got the characterizations spot on! Sabo won't want to hurt you and will try to do everything to prevent it. You're right - he wants to take care of you and protect you. I also think he's used to being the smartest and strongest person in every room which only adds to it. He's going to be worse in some ways now that you're with him, but nothing like our WBP pals.

As for our WBP, they have a complex relationship between them. Ace is much younger than Marco and Thatch - by almost 25 years. Not to spoil too much, but he doesn't really think beyond himself. He thinks that if he likes something, everyone else must too. As for our older gents, I would say they aren't motivated to hurt the reader, they just think the ends justify the means. So they'll do what they need to get what they want from her. If you're confused and vulnerable, well that just makes their job easier. Tate's been around Marco long enough to know what he's like, I don't think she'll bother talking to him either...

I love Ace too! If you like the regular not toxic Ace, I just wrote the first part of a two shot where he meets up with reader, who is his old childhood crush. It's gonna be all hahas and some smut.

Thank you so much for all your insight!! I absolutely loved reading it.

[lilbittymonster]

Okay 6.55 thoughts in no particular order:

-Big Kittie Lady Wuk Lamat I Love You So Much

-Kitali does not like her enough to want to help with the politics though. She's done and over being used to further political goals of other people. The bit about not wanting to let the overly aggressive candidate win was intruiging but her line of thinking is "well, this is what the Alliance is supposed to be for, I'm not going to continue to be their one woman army anymore."

-WIFE SPOTTED IN LIMSA I REPEAT WIFE SPOTTED IN LIMSA LOMINSA DOCKS

-I am going to fucking shit myself laughing if Estinien winds up on the same boat/same dock as the Scions coming in completely by coincidence because he's continuing his retirement trip around the planet.

-I respect and love him so much for that btw like this man has likely never set foot much further outside of Coerthas than the North Shroud for the first 32 years of his life, he is going to see as much of the world as he can now.

-someone was complaining in Radz shout chat about how the relics weren't "an actual grind" and someone else shouted back that EW was the "waiting room expansion" like. Y'all did this to yourselves, you are aware of this, right? You complained and whined and pouted SO HARD about Eureka and Bozja that they said "okay, baby shoes this time" and now you think it's too easy? Come join us omnicrafters in the Splendour tool grind then. Cowards.

-I'm glad that only the Arkasodara quests are canon for Kitali bc wow that capstone questline felt like a "somehow Palpatine has retured" for me. Nonsense(derogatory) as opposed to Hildibrand nonsense(affectionate).

-Where is Hraesvelgr we saw Hraesvelgr in the trailer but he wasn't here? Maybe there's still more for the actual 7.0 release idk

-Also weird that G'raha was in Tural in the trailer but says he's staying behind with the Annex. I don't particularly mind or care but just something I thought was odd.

-Urianger and Thancred. That is all.

-"What are you two doing here?" Krile they fucking live in Sharlayan I don't know if you were aware of this or not.

-My fondness for Erenville continues to grow. I think he and Kitali get along very well. They both are so very Done(tm) with everyone.

-It was nice seeing Jullus on the Island sanctuary but that just blasted so many holes in a ficlet I had wanted to write and I was too busy being bitter about that to really enjoy the rest of the time there.

-"it must be nice being able to get away" yeah see you would THINK THAT but I keep having all these fucking tourists showing up on my beach asking to parade around the place. 'Private getaway' my ass. Kitali is packing a bag and moving to the east side of the island.

-the overall messages of "power of friendship and hope" and "everything comes to an end, we all experience loss" are really starting to sound like a broken record. For people like me who have basic media literacy and got the message the first idk half dozen times....this is unnecessary. I know that a good chunk of the userbase needs it spelled out for them in black and white but.....idk. And a lot of it is that it's trying to hit emotional buttons that I just don't have because I did not care that much about Endwalker as an expansion. EW was just the wolstinien agenda expansion lmao. I don't particularly care for the Omicron or the lopporit questlines which is where they really tried to jam pack it in and I just ended up button mashing my way through the stories.

-Who the FUCK was in charge of picking reaction expressions in all of those cutscenes? On top of "she would not be smiling like that at G'raha, it takes so much of her self control to not actively scowl at him", some of those were just so out of place. I know what each one was bc i live in gpose and the tonal dissonance on some of them were just........what.

-Monster hunter honeymoon expansion still a very strong possibility.

-those last few lines in the final cutscene.........Man. I hope we do get to go north and see what the fuck is under all those clouds on Ilsabard and Othard.

-final relic stage lance Pretty :3

-I need an entire sitcom of Wuk Lamat and Erenville as children that was SO TASTY.

-I am glad that they're getting rid of the Stormblood problem with making the contest of succession explicitly open to outsiders.

-I like the reference in the food book to potatoes and tomatoes being imported from Tural through Limsa, that was a nice touch.

-I will still likely not pick up blue mage by the time Dawntrail releases lmao. F for me for missing any potential extra dialogue.

Closing thought: Kittie

[olichat-reads]

MHA with their cat companions | Kirishima, Sero, Mina, Uraraka

a/n: look this blog already caters to so much cat content i might as well go all the way 😂 this was so fun to write tho! i based a lot of this behaviours on my own cats so believe it or not very little is exagerated lmao

🌟

Kirishima Eijirou

owns the most social kitty in the world- like dad like furbaby

like a kid that says hello & waves to everyone on the street

has no qualms in making new friends be it cat, humans or even other animals

i headcanon kiri taking care of an old family dog, a sweet old doberman called rocky

kiri took him out for a walk one day, let him off at a dog park & he returns looking a little exasperated with a bright eyed bushy tailed little tortie glued to his side lmao

the size difference between the two is humorous but the cat is so unbothered, already so in love with his new bestfriend, running between rocky's legs, batting at those big paws playfully & already meowing up at kiri in greeting too

CANNOT seperate them. DON'T DO IT.

the little kitty starts CRYING the moment kiri TRIES to leave it behind & head back with rocky

had no choice but to take him home :)

everyone welcome pip (supposedly short for pebble) to the family

kiri brought him to the vet & everything because he acted too comfortable around people & even dogs 5 times his own size apparently

found out pip really was just a very friendly stray. a happy little thing :)

kiri is definitely one of those owners that never calls his pets by their given name lmao

rocky & pip are just 'big guy & little man'

kiri & pip both give off more doggy vibes than the actual dog lmao. the two have golden retriever energy while rocky is the calm old soul

they're just a wholesome little family <33

Sero Hanta

hanta has a long cat because i said so

actually no hanta has a meme cat

go ahead try to take a normal picture of fat gato. do it. i dare you.

you'll end up with a gallery of the stupidest cat pics

pics of him looking high af, butt licking pics, blep while he's sleeping pics, the list goes on

slap on top text, bottom text, you have a meme

not a single wholesome cute cat pic :') its never going to happen

fat gato is the chonkiest orange tabby you've ever seen btw

waddles around on his little legs

definitely overweight & lazy & on a diet

that meme of the vet showing a cat that he's overweight? that's him. that's fat gato.

hanta loves him tho. they're just both very chill & vibe together well. best homies.

oh OH- sero speaks to fat gato in spanish!! so he'll ONLY respond to spanish lmao.

like if the bakusquad comes over & tries to call fat gato over-

"fat gato! come here!" "we brought treats!"

and he'll just stare at them from across the room like 👁x👁

and sero will pop his head into the room from the kitchen & just repeat what they said in spanish "oye, gato. ellos tienen golosinas."

and its like a lightbulb just goes off in that furry head & he's rushing over with his stubby little legs, meowing excitedly for treats.

Ashido Mina

mina owns a hairless alien baby

i imagine she went to the shelter with every intention to get the prettiest model cat they have

but she laid eyes on this trembling little hairless baby with the most BEAUTIFUL blue eyes & the rest is history

and i would argue mina DID get the model cat she came for

queenie (look if mina can't name herself alien queen, she gets to call her child a queen) is a NATURAL model

that tiktok trend (?) of snapping candid photos to see if you're photogenic? QUEENIE

she just does 👏🏻 not 👏🏻 have 👏🏻 a 👏🏻 bad 👏🏻 angle 👏🏻

elegant little snob that poses for the camera, is insta famous & everything

because she's hairless, she doesn't mind clothes & is very okay with mina styling her

they totally have photoshoots together too!!!

mina's camera roll is just another level of #catmomlife

just the coolest mom & daughter on the block

you might think she's a spoiled furry brat but she's not 🥺

queenie is the most wholesome little kitty who loves mina a lot

making biscuits on mina's tummy when she's reading a magazine on her bed, 'grooming' her face when they're cuddling, just overall loving her owner

they kind of balance each other out too

mina is very outgoing & rowdy while queenie is more reserved & they make the best friends ever!!

Uraraka Ochako

chako is getting a little baby who is always hungry

his name is socks

because he's all white with a single orange striped foot (so really it should be sock as in a singular sock but sjksksj)

i imagine socks to match ochako's excited, cheery personality- a bit skittish around strangers but very friendly once he gets to know you

i think it would be funny if socks had a thing for deku too lmao

like ocha is bad at it but she tries being subtle about her crush on deku but socks gives no fucks

will run to the door, purring & meowing when deku comes over, licking his face & hands

deku doesn't mind but ocha's cheeks are just BURNING because it feels like socks is acting on HER feelings & she's just skhsks

he doesn't hoard deku tho. is happy to be with both mom & dad :)) good kitty :)

socks is also definitely one of those cats that get into your bread for some reason- takes a bite out of every. single. slice. right in the middle too.

ocha is just :'))

"you're lucky you're so cute you little RAT-"

she CANNOT leave any food or drinks in the open it WILL be stolen

its not like ocha doesn't feed him enough or anything. socks is just a ravenous lil baby & he just enjoys eating & tasting new things :')

not just meats and stuff like regular cats gravitate to either. if its food, he WILL have a taste-

ocha left orange juice on her desk? comes back to see him lapping it out of the glass

she's distracted on a phone call? socks will take the opportunity to taste the creampuff in her hand

he's just that meme of the kid running with a knife

"socks show me what you have!??"

"your lunch :D!"

"nO-"

🌟

a/n: bakugou, kaminari & eri are alr in my drafts haha. i'm so unfamiliar w the format for headcanons. i don't wanna clog too many characters into one post so i limited it to three characters? is it better that way? shorter posts but more parts? idk. lmk what you think

[alstroemerian-dragon]

thinking about the several month period where the survivors (plus the two who are already awake) work to 1) wake up mahiru 2) support her through healing and then 3) wake up peko

and how utterly Miserable that period of time has to be for fuyuhiko

(more under the cut because its another long one babey)

like. okay. heres a couple of disclaimers: this is a repeat, but i have not watched the anime. so if the character dynamics from it are your canon, just know i may not follow that. second, i… dont really think about mahiru that much. shes not really that much of a character to me, given what were given in canon, and the Casual Man Hating Mom Friend Lesbian (and i know she canonically has a crush on hajime so shes definitely bi or pan dont yell at me) trope just does nothing for me im sorry HOWEVER. in contrast to fuyuhiko, and in terms of what, in my brain, she does during the tragedy (which will probably WILDLY contradict literally everyone else’s opinions), there IS something in… her* arc post sim (that * will come back) that DOES interest me. bear with me

fuyuhikos ingrained belief system revolves almost entirely around the phrase ‘There is always a bigger fish.’ there is always going to be someone stronger, bigger, and more dangerous than you, so you have to work to be the strongest, biggest, and most dangerous you can in order to stay alive. along with that, he’s had very strangled views of what it means to be a Man shoved down his throat by most likely his father, so to him, being a man means being Big and Strong and Dangerous. but at the same time… he knows thats all bullshit. hes had other influences in his life, peko, his sister and, in my mind, his mother and other strong women high up in his clan, that have shown him the falsehoods of a lot of those claims. at the same time, he also knows, in the back of his head, that he physically can not meet those expectations for being a man. but… he is one. i think hes Solid in that. so it ends up all conglomerating and fighting in his head in a very confusing mess, which honestly has to be exhausting.

mahiru, by contrast, seems to have this very odd two-part system of beliefs, where being a man means being Confident and Strong and Protective, but at the same time, men are fundamentally Lazy and Stupid and Uncaring. women need to be protected by men, but also men are unnecessary. its… yeah its honestly familiar lmao. and some of this is the writers’ beliefs seeping in and some of it is bad writing but at the end of the day its what weve got.

so, to me, it really feels like the two of them would have absolutely hated each others guts during school. fuyuhiko is neither Big and Strong and Caring, nor is he Lazy and Stupid and Uncaring. he cares a lot, but not openly, or in a way that mahiru would easily recognize. hes an enigma in her eyes. and to fuyuhiko, mahiru is stuck in a frame of mind hes been fighting since he was a child, and as much as he’d try to be sympathetic, his anger has a tendency to get the better of him.

so… sato’s death would only have made this situation worse.

i dont think any of them knew he was responsible for her death. i dont think fuyuhiko told ANYONE aside from peko, especially since this would have been in their second year, after junko had begun sinking her talons into the entire class. how could he trust any of them? and he has to have known about her connection to mahiru, its the only way he could have found out she was involved in natsumi’s death. he kept it from her in particular, knowing she wouldn’t understand, knowing she would blame him, knowing it would just make things worse.

she probably doesnt realize the full extent of everything until… until after she wakes up.

im not gonna go too much into them as despairs, but lets just say that fuyuhiko… is responsible for a lot of bad things, even ones that happened to his fellow limbs. mahiru also did a lot of shit, but hiko i think is one of the only ones who hurt his so-called allies. and her cheery, fake, influencer-like attitude absolutely grated on him like crazy, resulting in a lot of screaming matches and even physical altercations.

so, when mahiru wakes up, her opinion of fuyuhiko is the lowest it could possibly be. hes an enigma, a stick in the gears, a man who hasnt yet shown his true colors and yet is also a violent, cruel dictator, fulfilling every expectation she has for the kind of man she expects the Ultimate Yakuza to be.

except he isnt. because by the time she wakes up, its been over a year and a half since the program shut down, and fuyuhiko is a very, very different person. and he doesnt have a low opinion of her at all. hes incredibly sympathetic to her situation, understands how much pain shes probably in, understands theres definitely a lot more under her surface beliefs that he doesnt see or know yet. thinks it was incredibly brave of her to stand up to him despite knowing he could be violent and dangerous.

and as the days go by, she sees that. sees him interacting with the others, sees him laugh at one of hajimes stupid jokes, sees him smile and roll his eyes at kazuichi’s physical affection, sees him lean on his cane when his leg flares up, sees him rubbing at the scars around his eye when they ache. sees how much respect he treats her with, how much space he gives her while not avoiding confrontations, because hes done running. hes been running for far too long, and hes done with it.

i think it takes a long time. weeks, maybe. months, possibly. but i think it starts to weigh on her mind, that she cant keep treating him like a criminal. like a weapon. cant keep ignoring his humanity in favor of the label of Violent Man that sits in her brain. and, additionally, interacting with the others, with hajime, with sonia, with kazuichi and sagishi. she starts to realize how utterly stupid the rigid gender structures that exist in her heard really are.

basically what im saying is i think mahiru is a he/him butch bi woman because i love to hit characters with the Cool Ass Gender ray. this is where that * comes back by the way thats why thats there because mahirus not a girl but also he is a girl but also hes not. hope this helps <3 also he and fuyuhiko are Worsties. they should eventually get to a point where they can both make jokes about the fact that fuyuhiko tried to kill him and can also have serious conversations about the sato and natsumi shit without devolving into unproductive arguing.

AND THEN PEKO WAKES UP FUCK THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT—

[jelzorz]

For the writing meme please:

Viren gets up. Opeli’s hand tightens around the handle of her dagger, but she does not draw it. Viren doesn't even touch the bars. “Why are you all trying so hard to keep me alive?” he asks. “You’ve made it clear I'm not welcome here, just let me die.”

Opeli scoffs at him. “The only ones who don't want you dead are your children,” she says. “I don't care what you do. I advocated for you for Soren, but whether you live or die at this point is not my concern. But know this, Viren, if you hurt him again, I will personally make sure you are kept here, fed and watered enough to stay alive with guard to make sure you will never find relief. Your children will grow and they will live their lives, and you will never trouble them again because you will never leave here. And when you do die, old and forgotten, your body will rot here. No rites. No burial. Whatever’s left of your soul can wander around for rest that will never come.”

He stares at her. Then he laughs a hollow, dead sounding laugh. “You know I have never believed in such things.”

“And yet, here you are,” sneers Opeli, “begging for Mercy in the form of Death that Justice will not let you have. How much longer would you like to tempt her? What was it that Claudia said?” She hums, feigning the thought process. “There were certain conditions that were met to make your resurrection spell permanent. How permanent do you think it meant? Shall we leave you here and find out?”

Viren holds her stare, defiant, but Opeli can see the flicker of doubt in his eyes.

“It's been eight years since Aaravos was defeated, Viren,” she says. “Eight years since Soren ran you through with a sword. How many times have you tried to end it? How many times have you failed?”

He looks away, his brow furrowed, counting the attempts, the failures, rethinking the events of his resurrection. Then his face shifts, eyes wide in horrified realisation.

Opeli smirks. “Take the kindness that is offered to you, Viren. There are worse fates than a trial. Don't make this harder for Soren than it already is.”

She turns to leave, heaving the door open with an echoing creak when Viren calls after her.

“It's his, isn't it?” he asks. “The child.”

Opeli shuts the door behind her without a response.

B L E S S Y O U @lunamoon1313

A quick disclaimer: I wrote this on night shift so I can't tell you exactly what was on my mind as I wrote it bc. I don't remember and I was very sleep deprived lmao BUT I can tell you what I intended based on how I read it now, which was, probably, ~dramaaaaa~

One of the biggest selling points of the crack quartet is how fucking Messy it gets for everyone involved. I did fully intend for Viren to dead but the idea of Soren having to deal with him while being married to Opeli was just too good for me to pass up. This entire scene is built around two things:

1) Opeli being stubborn as Fuck

2) Viren figuring everything out

Once again, most of the snake was written on night shift so I don't actually know if it was obvious that Viren had picked up on the hints. I remember going "Is this a reasonable leap he could make?" And then immediately going "🤷🏽‍♀️" and doing it anyway, but I tried, in previous scenes, to draw attention to the fact that he noticed Soren's wedding band, the little looks that passed between him and Opeli when they went down there together, and the fact that she's threatening him over Soren but not Claudia, and not even the rest of the kids. Her priority has and should have been Ezran, but instead she's demanding he play nice for Soren? Oh???

So he puts the pieces together which Opeli does not confirm but he'll bring it up with Soren later, just subtly, and Soren will go "How the Fuck do you Know" and realise Opeli went down there, and one would think they might Argue about it, but in my head, he is so desperate not have a repeat of the fruit that it'll just be a few stern words and then they're cool, as they always are.

This is entirely not canon now but I do also like to think that Opeli has always had LJs favour, whether LJ is a real deity or not. I wrote in another ask that if Opeli got power from somewhere, it wouldn't be a primal source but from LJ herself, and the fact that Viren won't die is an extremely ironic and also extremely LJ thing to happen given all his crimes. Opeli threatening him is one of the very few times she invokes power through LJ the way a cleric might invoke the power of any other god, but I think there's also something extremely ominous about a non-combatant character threatening violence through a god BC. Well. She means it, and she's right. Whatever the fuck Claudia did to bring Viren back MIGHT ACTUALLY have made him immortal in some extremely ironic sense, and LJ definitely has the vibe of a god who would Absolutely pull that kind of shit.

ANYWAY thank you for the opportunity to talk about this!!!! I put FAR too much thought into this fic and it was an absolute Pleasure to rant about it!!

[found-wings]

Soooo. I had a thought that I can’t quite explain and I kind of just threw a bunch of things together.

This is the result, though it is more of a concept than anything :D

I hope you enjoy it, it‘s slightly longish so lmao

The wings of Death welcome everyone beneath it‘s feathered blanket of safety.

Always has and always will, so it goes.

And Phil is no different as the messenger of Death, an angel of the deepest void of what comes after.

Even as the angel that watches over the mortal realm for the Goddess herself, even he knows that eventually he has to give way to his life too. He knows that he too eventually has to part to go back to where he belongs and leave this world in the hands of another, no matter how long or how little it takes.

So every hundred years or so he holds a tournament for the strongest of the best.

People of all kind and from everywhere come every time, ready to take on what it means to be chosen by Death herself, worthy of her grace to ascend to the ranks of higher ups.

Phil has lost count on how long it‘s actually been, thousands of years mashing and blurring into each other with no chosen to be found.

He didn‘t mind and he knew Death was patient, she trusted him with everything. This wasn‘t a simple matter of being able to go back, so choosing someone to step up to his place - not to replace, but to honor and follow his steps as a bringer, a messenger of Death herself..

It was no simple decision, no simple matter of trying out.

Phil has never found anyone particular, no one catching his attention for long enough to even consider.

It was frustrating, in a way.

.

"Phil?" He can hear Techno call out, voice echoing through the halls as the piglin makes his way to their shared room.

When Techno enters the room without as much knocking, Phil is sat quietly on the edge of his self made nest. The blankets aren‘t properly tugged in, feathers scattered on the ground along with the gold accessories he is usually seen wearing and a bunch of pillows underneath the dropping wings settled behind the crow.

Phil was, least to say, not ready.

Techno stays silent in his approach, stepping past Phils unmoving figure to grab one of the bottles of water and another blanket. As he returns back to his friends side, he kneels down in front of him and slowly guides Phil into holding the bottle.

Once he‘s assured that Phil won‘t just drop it, he uses the blanket to wrap it around him, being extra careful in tucking away the wings despite their size. With his hands he starts rubbing the blanket against Phils arms, a low rumble escaping him.

"Something is gonna happen," Techno says. It‘s not a question because he knows Phil. He knows Phil is not one to sleep in, to let himself be sat somewhere and lose the fine gold accessories Techno had made him on the floor, to grasp at his feathers until even the healthier ones come out - unless something deep within his mind violently screams and claws at him until that‘s all he can focus on.

Phils movement is steady and gentle when he lifts the bottle up to take a sip, visibly relaxing at the cold temperature of it.

A couple of moments hurry by and Phil sighs, leaning forward to bump his forehead against Technos. "I haven‘t felt this shitty since.. you know."

"Good or bad?" Simply comes from Techno, watching as Phils eyes slip shut.

He takes a few more seconds to either brace himself or to observe his own feelings so he can give a proper response, even if Techno would be content with even no answer at all.

"Not as bad as the last time someone tried to assassinate ya. But not good," Phil hums.

Receiving messages of the higher ranks is exhausting, even as a chosen. Techno had a bit of an easier time because luckily his connection and culture worked differently, however Phil was hit with it like a train driving in circles again and again, chipping at his physical and mental health in repeating manners.

"Todays the tournament," Techno notes and fully wraps the blanket around Phil, scooping him up in one of his arms before organising the stray blankets and pillows. "You think someone’s tryin‘ to go for you today?"

Phil chuckles, followed by a long drawn sigh afterwards. "As in for my title or for my head?"

"Title. Tryin‘ to kill you is a pain," Techno responds with a snort, a silent I‘d know tacked on behind it.

Once the bed is done, he walks over to the closet and is extra careful in not knocking anything down with the feathered tail that is poking out of Phils blanket burrito.

While Techno goes through the varying outfits, Phil watches with a soft smile playing on his face. "I hope not. I’d miss you."

.

It‘s loud.

The arena is filled to the brim and probably overflowing, but Phil chooses to ignore that.

"I recognise a few people," Phil hums as he gazes down at all the competitors that are entering the fighting area. It was still the beginning, which meant all fighters were to gather where they would be fighting and introducing themselves to each other.

They could talk, spar with any brought weapons they had, or just spend it on their own until the actual fights began. It was Deaths original suggestion, because it would form new bonds and make everything feel more real, more familiar.

Phil couldn‘t help but agree, maybe he is a bit biased though considering he met Techno in a similar way. Not fortunate enough to willingly participate, but similar enough at last.

"Any nether folk?" Techno asks, curiosity laced between his seemingly uninterested tone as he glances up from the book he‘s reading.

Phil reaches out for his spyglass and mutters about why their personal seats had to be this far up again, taking a closer look at all competitors.

Most people are hybrids, yes, but generally only overworld ones were seen around here. It was most common. "A few, but not many. Even less end folk, as usual."

Techno mumbles something and Phil knows he’s already back to focusing on his book. Which he can‘t be blamed for, this tournament was held with Phil in mind and not for Techno.

A sigh escapes the crow and just as he‘s about to avert his attention from the group, something catches his eye.

Literally, as the sun blinds him for a brief second and forces him to squeeze shut his eyes until the flash of light disappears - and then he sees it.

Within the many people is someone holding what appears to be a sword that Phil has not seen yet, tainted at the edges with a green. The handle is black and a couple of green gems adorn it - however as Phils eyes lay on the owner of the weapon, his eyes widen.

He watches the white haired man take a swing with his weapon, the green skin occasionally broken up by a few white bandages wrapped around it. The black jacket is tattered and patched up in a couple of places with star shaped cloth, a backpack draped across their back with an oddly shaped and colored shield attached to the side of it. The belt from the slightly baggy pants holds a few potions and smaller tools from what Phil can see, everything needed for surviving within the damned places of the mortal realm.

His breath catches and he feels.. Death.

This is it.

That is the person he‘s been waiting on for as long as he can think when Death had first brought up having to choose someone at the right time.

The person to offer a wing and guide on learning the duties of what it means to be Deaths messenger, what it means to be bound to Death for thousands of years to come.

He can‘t quite explain the pull he feels, but he just knows this is right, this is his warrior.

"That‘s them," Phil whispers, leaning even more over the railing he has been standing at.

Techno glances up once more, offering Phil nothing but a confused gaze when the crow doesn’t say anything more. "Heh?"

Phil however whips his head around to Techno, eyes wide and the piglin can practically see the sparkles in his eyes.

"That‘s them," he repeats. "I found the one."

It takes a couple of seconds before it sets in what Phil means and Techno is standing beside his friend without a second thought.

He watches Phils gaze and pointing at an almost isolated figure, directly picking out one of the couple people who aren‘t socialising with any other.

"Them?" Techno asks to confirm and Phil nods immediately, watching the person with an odd sense of admiration. Techno hums and smiles a little at Phils reaction.

Phil is not one to be easily impressed by someone he hasn‘t met, hasn‘t heard of or anything of that sort, so to get this reaction means it’s a feeling send by Death.

Techno nods and grins.

So be it.

.

"He hasn‘t even met them at all and Phil thinks they‘re the one?"

Techno waves off Wilburs concerns as they follow behind the giddy crow, who is basically bouncing with every step they take within the arena.

"I trust him," Techno simply counters.

Wilbur huffs, clearly annoyed by the lack of consideration from the emperors side. "Phil doesn‘t usually act like this."

"Exactly," Techno shoots back again. "That‘s why I trust him."

There is no reply to that comment for a little while and Wilbur sighs, taking out a notebook and starting to note down some things - or to go through the many pages of trying to find something.

As they make their way out the gates and onto the field, the conversations from the competitors quiet down when they walk past. There‘s a couple of greetings that range from cheerfulness to suspicion all the same, but Technos attention is mainly on Phil and occasionally Wilburs words.

"His name is Etoiles. We’re not sure on his past, where he currently lives nor his species, but we do know that he’s a hunter." Wilbur writes down another thing as he explains to Techno.

A hunter. That‘s.. interesting, least to say. "Hunter of?"

"Elytrians and Avians, according to multiple sources we’ve found. One of the top rankings."

Techno halts and stares at Wilbur, who is wearing a similar expression - distrust bordering on disgust.

"How did he get in?" Technos tone is low and his stare is redirected towards Phil, the crow already having approached this 'Etoiles' person with a little too much curiosity for his liking.

Wilbur takes a few moments to collect any written down information before giving a response. "We have sources and words of other kingdoms that he no longer hunts those. He has a few friends now who are avians, apparently."

Wrong. That has to be wrong, he will not let any hunter get Phil again.

"Tell the guards to take him out or I will take care of him myself."

[notcolleen]

tw for very rambling suicidal ideation behind this, i promise i am safe 👌 (but blunt talk about death and rambles abt cats and mentions of pokémon 👌)

[[MORE]]

but i have not been this actively suicidal for extended amount of time probably ever, yet i say that knowing that i will stay alive indefinitely……..just really really really sad all the time 😌 (so please know that too and allow me to write this out lol)

it’s just a very overwhelming sense of staying alive out of obligation and that’s not exactly what dbt would call a Life Worth Living

but i am obligated to my cat first and foremost (as ridiculous as that might sound to some but i know others will understand lol) and to my family as well, and the guilt of leaving them overwhelms me even though i know logically i wouldn’t be alive to feel it….like i look at phoebe (the cat in question for those who don’t know) and i see a wonderful animal who didn’t sign up to be taken in by a severely depressed human — she deserves unconditional care and love and that is what i agreed to when i adopted her so that is why i am obligated to stay alive as long as she is alive

plus on a more practical level, when my ideation gets to the point of “okay let’s try to find an equally loving home for her ! maybe even someone who has more space and more time and more emotional bandwidth !” im like wow that would be pretty obvious to anyone that knows you that something is wrong lmao and also i get so sad at the thought of not having her in my life……..which contradicts the “i actually want to be dead” ideation and brings on my next unwavering reason to stay around……which is my extreme fear of death and the unknown

like…….that’s terrifying and idk how it’s just basically accepted that we as humans exist and then stop existing? and that’s it? like a hs classmate of mine just passed away less than a week ago and i can’t stop thinking about it, i selfishly can’t stop thinking how unfair it is that i am sitting here, literally abusing my body every minute of the day and not taking care of any part of my self and yet my health is essentially perfect?? yet she was genuinely one of the nicest ppl in this horrible town and breast cancer took her life and if that doesn’t prove that this life has no logic at all idk what does

and it’s terrifying bc i can’t comprehend what happens after bc in my mind there just can’t logically be any after but there also can’t logically be nothing so it’s just….overwhelming blankness

so now i wake up every day and i cry on my walk to work because i have the same compulsive thoughts about dying at the same spots on the same walk bc my brain is dumb and repeats everything

but also keep thinking about how that would affect the kids i work with, who tell me they love me every day and hug me even though they’re not supposed to and tell me i’m they’re favorite teacher when they’re not supposed to but it’s really only because i’m the only one that knows pokémon enough to print out the coloring sheets they want so it’s conditional love but i don’t even care bc it’s real to them and to me

but then i cry more bc i love them too but i still want to die and they would move on quickly but it would still be something in their life that they certainly dont deserve and wouldn’t understand

so i go to work and i pretend to be a good, caring person and it’s exhausting bc i am not, so i get home and it’s like a switch is flipped and i am an entirely different person with no moral compass and no desire to connect with anyone or be around anyone or do anything…..like at this point i have alienated everyone in my life and can’t see myself getting to a place where i can build connections again, my only social interactions rn are work and i get frustrated that i have to make the same small talk with my coworkers every day, i get frustrated that i have to partake in social niceties or that im expected to go to holiday parties and have lunches with these people who don’t actually know me and i don’t actually know them??

i did have thanksgiving with my family tonight and i know i have so much love for them, and i felt safe there for that time……but there was still this underlying emptiness to everything and even conversations with them, the people i am closest with and really the only ones i talk to anymore, felt surface level in a way that frustrates me and i can’t articulate it accurately but it’s exhausting and i am tired

and i was getting more anxious as i was getting ready to leave my parents bc the time alone after being with family is the hardest for me and my dad turned to my sister…..who had just had another fight with her husband….and said “just so you know, you can stay here tonight, you’re always welcome to stay here” and i started crying on my way home because that’s what i needed to hear tonight but he wouldn’t know that bc i can’t vocalize my emotions like a functional adult and go out of my way to make it seem like i’m doing better than i am so that my mom doesn’t worry

i know i need more help in terms of my mental health (also not in denial abt how bad my eating disorder is rn but that’s another issue that i’m not going to write another novel about rn) but idk what that looks like in my life rn and it’s hard when my depression is this bad because i keep coming back to “yeah i need more help but also it’s all pointless anymore lol” so i just go through my days completed detached and telling myself that any way i can cope is okay bc instagram told me 💖✨if all u did was survive today that is okay✨💖 but really it’s just me enabling apathy and destructive behaviors and moving targets of “i’ll do better once xyz”

idk how to end this post other than to say again that i am safe, just obviously not in a good place mentally but very much able to keep myself alive (i’ve been jaded by too many “instagram cares” messages after posting lol) (i know this is tumblr) (still jaded)

[nycorix]

Consequences [9/11]

[fic post]

|part 1| |part 2| |part 3| |part 4| |part 5| |part 6| |part 7| |part 8|

HI NKSVERSE FANDOM HOW ARE WE FEELING !! LMAO I was diligently editing this project regularly and then Real Life happened and now it's been a whole year whoops

Anyways!! In honor of the Flight & Anchor release next month, I'm finally resurrecting this! For any of y'all still reading/interested in this fic, thank you I love you <333 (also: everyone go preorder the novella it's my personal enduring favorite of Nicole's work bc it got me fully hyperfixated on the 'verse etc. etc.) For any newcomers, this particular project of mine is a love letter to this novella specifically, a sort of mirror fic that pays homage to that event in their lives (and to Them generally. It's been over two years and I still adore them so much omg they're probably my favorite Bestie Duo I've ever encountered).

This part is another one of my favorites ngl. It is the one in which 22 is so feverish and overstimulated he picks a fight with 06 because he doesn't know how else to process emotion for absolutely no reason. (I wanna know what if any resources were devoted to these kids' mental health. Diana Reyes I just wanna talk-)

TW: the operatives' toxic trait of not being careful with their bodies

Enjoy!!(?)

_______

9.

His fingers are numb beneath the smart fabric of his gloves. His toes, ears, his whole face is numb, but his eyes and nose sting like hell, his throat burning all the way down to his lungs and he is tired. So, so tired—a level of exhaustion he’s unfamiliar with, that aches all the way to his bones. His muscles are on fire, his lungs keep spasming, and his head is throbbing violently enough that his vision blackens at the edges. 

Yet only two words loop on repeat in his muddled brain, hammering down with every lurching beat of his heart.

Worth it. 

As he flings the hundredth scrap of twisted metal into a pile the size of a small house, ready for the incinerator cart.

Worth it. 

As he heaves a broken slab of concrete up off a mangled car, then tosses the car and the slab into the pile.

Worth it. 

When he pauses to cough, fighting desperately to control his breathing before he damages any internal organs, biting down hard on his tongue to quell the paroxysms, spitting the blood he draws onto the crumbled pavement at his feet. 

Worth—

“Hey, dumbass!”

He barely hears her over the ringing in his ears, but she’s upon him in seconds anyway, hand clamped to his shoulder. He tries to say something—fuck off, probably, or what are you doing here or go back to HQ you idiot but all that comes out is a strained sound that may or may not be “Kit—”.

She ignores it, gripping his shoulder bracingly with one hand while she claps the other to his forehead. 

“She sent you out with this fever?” she says, voice low, careful.

His silence is all the answer she needs.

“I’ll fucking kill her.” Her voice is the calm before a storm neither of them can afford, not now, not this time, not anymore.

“Leave me alone,” he rasps, wincing at the nothing state of his voice. Pushes her, harder than he means to. She stumbles back several yards, arms flailing for balance, too stunned to reply for a moment before the anger comes. 

“Like hell I will.” She plants herself solidly between him and the rubble pile, eyes squinted against the wind that lashes around the corners of the buildings to buffet against them. “What the fuck do you think this is, some misguided half-assed attempt at—”

“This is.” he interrupts, hooking his shoulder into hers and tilting forward, “Me covering.” he pushes, just the barest fraction of his strength, and she staggers, nearly tripping over her feet, “For you.” He bends down, picks up a four-foot chunk of broken concrete, hoists it on his shoulder as he locks eyes with her. “Yesterday was a mistake. I told you she’d know. And she always needs a scapegoat.” He pitches the debris over his shoulder, an involuntary shudder passing through him at the way the clatter grates against his oversensitive ears. “I was the one available. Better to lose one than risk two.” His voice cracks at the end, whittled to nothing by the virus waging war in his throat, but the jab hits home. 

“That's bullshit and you know it,” she mutters, kicking a meter-length of metal pipe toward the pile, but he doesn’t miss the flash of hurt in her eyes before she drops them. 

“Is it.” He scans the ground, frowns as it blurs before his eyes. He stoops, picks up a dormant resonance grenade—gingerly, thumb and forefinger—crushes it down to a marble-sized lump of inert junk metal, winds up, and sends it flying straight through the chassis of a Greenleaf surveillance drone several hundred feet above their heads.

“Whoa, watch it!” 06 yelps, peering up into the clouds with a hand shading her eyes. She tilts her head, tracking the trajectory of the falling drone by the sound, then springs into motion. In just seconds, she sprints across the street and leaps into the air, snatching the smoking hulk of machinery before it can slam sideways into a Stellaxis info board. She folds it in half, then half again, chucking it onto the rubble pile and dusting her hands off with a bemused twist of her lips. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Move.” He brushes past her hard enough for her to grunt in pain, stalks up the side of the pile, and shoves his hand through the crumpled layers of metal into the drone’s transmitter module, extracting a small plastic chip and crushing it into powder. “Don’t be sloppy.”

“Come back with me, idiot.”

“I have one more street to go.” A wave of dizziness washes over him as he starts to descend the pile, and he pauses, half-closing his eyes. “My orders are to do this alone, you shouldn’t be here. Go back.”

“I won’t.”

Frustration bubbles up despite his every effort to keep it down, and he’s beside her in a single roughly calculated leap. “06,” he starts warningly, but she only rolls her eyes. 

“‘22’.” Light, mocking. Then, after a breath, his name. No trace of the kickback in her eyes. “You’re being a stubborn ass and you know it.”

This doesn’t dignify a response. They stare at each other, at a standoff. 

She looks like she’s cooking up some juicier insult, or worse, maybe something compassionate. 

“Hey—”

Before she can get any actual words out, he sneezes, which feels approximately like getting all of his ribs kicked in at once (a sensation with which he is, in fact, intimately familiar). His expression after must be a sight, because when he looks up she is staring harder, that deep furrow creasing her brow that he hates. 

“What,” he tries to say, but he sneezes again—this time bottling it up with every last inch of his willpower, ignoring the detonation of pain behind his eyes—and this expression must be even worse, because now she is glaring at him. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” she says, face undergoing a series of contortions—concerned to alarmed to sympathetic to incredulous—that would have been funny if he wasn’t so strung-out-pissed. 

“Shut up,” he grinds out, meant as a snap but lacking about eighty percent of the energy required for that. 

She sighs, raking both hands up through her cropped hair. “Fine,” she mutters. “At least let me help you.” She picks up a piece of metal, which he snatches out of her hands faster than she can gear up to toss it. 

“No.” He’s tired—so fucking tired—and he’s not sure if he’s angry at her or just himself. 

He chucks the piece of metal toward the pile, skews wide by several feet, and watches it careen off course and smash through a third story window, greeted by a smattering of screams. Every molecule of him cringes away from the thought of the message the Director will absolutely be sending him about this, fear and subsequent fury at the fear pooling like poison in his stomach.

He fists his hands so tightly, a bone in his left index finger snaps. 

06 flinches, shooting him a look that he steadily ignores. When the moment wears thin, silence stretching taut between them, 06 tsks, catching up his wrist with a rough little tug.

“Idiot,” she says softly, digging in a pocket. “Don’t just leave it like that.”

Her warm fingers brush against his frigid skin through the barest gap between glove and sleeve, featherlight, and it is too much.

His sword is out before his thoughts catch up with his absolutely misdirected blind rage, the point grazing her throat. A glance down reveals hers at his heart, a hairline tear in the fabric of his jacket as she leans casually into the onehanded counterstrike. Her stance is open, healing device tucked behind the thumb on her free hand where he can see it. Her face is a question, a new glimmer of hurt kept guarded just beneath the surface.

“Touch me again,” he breathes, drawing a tiny bead of blood from her skin, "and I will kill you."

Incredulity and amusement tick her eyebrows up, but her eyes themselves are very, very serious. “I’d like to see you try.”

Six minutes later, he’s still not sure why they’re fighting but he is sure that he has to keep moving, has to keep striking, has to keep control at all costs. 06 is going easy on him, he knows that she is, yet somehow this has no power to dissuade him from the nonsensical match he’s thrown himself into. They’re a tangle of swords and limbs, boots and fists, and it’s both so much better and so very much worse than his previous ill-fated match with 08.

Sparring with 06 is like fighting an extension of himself. They are a single fluidity, a collective force, two jagged halves of a whole. Their pivots and lunges, strikes and blocks weave together in a seamless flow, easy as breathing, every potential move the other could make etched irrevocably into the folds of their brains. He could do this in his sleep.

Several more minutes pass, indeterminate. The incandescent edges of his anger abruptly cool, releasing his mind and dropping him unceremoniously back into his body just in time for him to realize that he is fading. Rapidly. With 08, he’d still had the greater part of his faculties; now, he’s running on autopilot, the fever like a fire raging in his veins. Black spots shimmer across his field of vision in time with his pulse, which thunders in his ears. His awareness of his body is reduced to points of pain—head, throat, finger, chest—and all of it is screaming at him to sit the fuck down.

He needs to finish this, and quickly.

With the last dregs of his strength, he surges forward, sheathing his sword. As he strides into range, he catches her sword at the base, gripping it in one gloved hand and ignoring the bite of the blade through his fingers as he yanks it from her grasp and casts it aside. In one swift, lethal motion he corrals her by the throat, one handed, and pins her up against the nearest wall. 

He’s prepared for the way her hands circle his wrist, a vice-grip that she will tighten further and further until his arm breaks or he lets go. He’s unprepared for the way all of his muscles start trembling, shuddering with the effort of holding her up that’s normally no effort at all.

“Match.” The word falls from his parched throat, unrecognizably blunted in his own ears. He’s shaking all over now, and he has to let her down a moment before she properly concedes, teeth chattering in his head as the heat generated from the exertion dissipates and he’s wracked with full-body chills.

He thinks 06 replies, but he isn’t sure. Suddenly, everything is fuzzy and wrong, his vision splintering into fractals of white and black as a wave of dizziness swallows him whole. The street spins out from beneath him, 06’s face a blur against the sickly too-bright-ness, and then there is nothing, and he is falling, and it stops.

|part 10|

[lightsiided]

1, 7, 10, 13, and 17 🤭

* character building questions | always accepting

1. what’s the lie your character says most often?

probably 'i'm fine' DFJKGHDFHG. rey is definitely a 'put on a brave face' type, especially if people close to her are also going through it and she needs to focus on them. she'll brush off concern and pretend like nothing's wrong for as long as she possibly can. the more anyone else presses, the more she doubles down on it, insisting there's nothing wrong. then at the same time she gets upset no one knows or acknowledges she's struggling but can't say anything about it because she made her own bed. so she just winds up lonely and sulking and the cycle repeats!

7. what would you (mun) yell in the middle of a crowd to find them? what would their best friend and/or romantic partner yell?

anything about free stuff would get her to run right over tbh a best friend would definitely be like 'wow someone left a pile of astromech parts just laying around here?' and she would pop up instantly to rummage through them. for a romantic partner it's even easier because she is so defensive and protective, so they'd just have to say something negative about themselves and she would be like who would dare --

10. what fact do they excitedly tell everyone about at every opportunity?

that the millennium falcon crashed while it was still on the assembly line. idk how she came to know that little tidbit -- maybe it was a story shared by luke or leia, passed down from han in a rare, happy moment of downtime that no one even believes is true -- but rey tells everyone she comes across about how the fueling droid assembling the ship overcharged the chassis and made it jump off the line, so that everyone in the facility thought the ship was alive. she just loves that ship and all its little quirks so much. and when she tells stories about it or people ask questions she feels closer to han in sharing them, so she takes any chance she can get.

13. when do they fake a smile? how often?

i think in group settings rey often feels like she sets the tone for the whole squad, especially since she's had leadership thrust upon her. so it feels like it's up to her to be positive, optimistic and upbeat even if things look grim. like she could know they're about to do something dangerous and she'll be like, this is going to be great! and i think it also comes up often when she has to be happy for other people LMAO like not that she's not, but i think it's hard to see others with familial/romantic relationships and not think about the ways she's lacking and how lonely she really is. so of course she is happy for her friends, but the smile is still a little forced.

17. what do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

her eyes always go instinctively to the small scar on her cheek. she never much cared about the aesthetic of it until people started to ask questions and she realized it was noticeable, and of course it looks bigger to her than it does to anyone else (it's tiny in actuality). i think when she's not being hard on herself she can acknowledge she has a nice smile, which is probably what other people notice most often, alongside her eyes and the freckles across her nose.

[belovecore]

Okay okay okay, I’m honestly really curious about how Springtrap and Zero meet? Like, when ST arrives at Fazbear Frights for the first time, does he bump into Zero when she gets on her shift? Does he try and attack her at first? What were their first impressions of eachother? :0

This isn’t meant to be nitpicky or pressuring in any way lol, I just love the concept of this ship so much I think it’s so cute,,total beauty and the beast scenario imo x)

- 🌙 Anon

oh, it's not pressuring or anything at all! i'm so happy to answer aah /pos

thank you so much for the ask again, i'm so so happy to talk about this and to have someone who loves to ask questions and hear what i have to say!!

so like, might repeat myself or go back and change things but don't feel afraid to ask! so what i got is:

Zero got hired around the time Springtrap got found in the closed off 'backrooms', and as such they were repurposing and 'cleaning' Springtrap to use as a prop rather than his old springlock wearable plush suit self since that would take way too much money or work to achieve and also on fact of 'authenticity' and its creepy so lol

they basically gave him a normal poseable endoskeleton and put him in a spot alongside other animatronic props to let people see him as they walk back and get spooked.

when this happened, he sorta had 'purple guy's' leftover soul sort possessing his circuits which once he was pulled from the room and cleaned up, he suddenly powered on during one of their first shifts.

he was very confused since to springtrap, while he wasn't an actual machine to begin with and just a suit, his whole mold assumes his character persona as 'springbonnie'

so like, picture waking up in a place you don't know, in disrepair, and you have no clue what to do or what to think. he's suppose to be walking around and seeing the kiddies during the day with all the bright colors and happy faces. but now, he's in some run down dark overrun place and has no clue what occurred in the long period he wasn't being 'worn'

so naturally he gets up and just, wanders around looking for kids, that's what he usually does and this happens to be afterhours once the theme park closes so Zero is in their 'office' just doing a checkover and keeping watch over the place and then Springtrap sees her.

Zero, not knowing well, animatronics can be alive?? sorta? is freaked out and like is just put off by this giant rabbit prop that isn't supposed to be able to stand and walk just, staring at her from the doorway.

her first instinct would be to call for help via phoneline but she's honestly not a fight person, or even flight so she just freezes. it's not like she could bolt since he's standing in the only exit of the office.

but after springtrap gets over just, seeing a human again and defaults into this sort of comfort mode since sometimes back then, kids would be scared of him.

it's a long talk and springtrap lowers himself so not to be as scary, and basically they hit it off quite well from both being down on their luck and nowhere else to go or much to do. they really start to bond and zero gets to keep him company each night since she can't tell anyone about him being 'alive'

overall their first impression of each other is fear and curiosity and confusion, and spring starts out more as his old springbonnie persona but tends to gain his more 'springtrap' persona from purple guy's ghost in a way.

he retains sweetness and knows how to entertain, but also becomes more of a person who has been through a lot and doesn't always hold up his old naive and utterly devoted love to everyone he sees. he can be a bit snide and cynical, but also shows a very soft side to Zero and cares for them unconditionally.

might not be explaining what i mean 100% well but hopefully some of that makes sense? idk, i do plan to draw zero's nightguard look and maybe do some writing or art around them both.

the art might have to wait cause i'm still working on how to draw springs all over again lmao