#also something bad happened and i ended up having to chop off a part of my hair

[robyn-goodfellowe]

everything has been so fast lately i need time to just stop for a little

[flowersandbigteeth]

Looking for a saucy medieval tradition to weave into your historical romances? Have no fear, foot-of-the-gallows marriage is here! Basically, if a man was about to be hanged and a woman stepped forward and said “I will marry this man!” he was spared because it was was seen as like “oh, she’ll rehabilitate him so we don’t have to kill him.” Now, I heard this from tiktok, so I could be wrong, and it could just be a folk tale or something that rarely happened in actuality. Either way, it’s a cool troupe I think more people should use (and I myself will be using). I think it would work really well with Orcs and Elves!

This is such an intriguing idea! I had to try it. If you end up writing it, tag me, if you are comfortable! I'd love to see what you do with it ^_^

I keep getting Orc ideas, and I can't resist them *feral invasive Orc thoughts* （￣ ｗ￣）Ψ

Orc (Saber) x GN elf reader

Word Count: 6K

TW: discussion of hanging, bad mother, sfw Orc fluff, a bit of melancholy with a happy ending, nonsexual mention of private body parts in the context of bathing

“Goodness, what’s this all about?” you grumbled, clutching your basket closer to you as you made your way through the crowd. 

The stench of rotten vegetables and too many people lingered in the air. 

“It’s a hanging,” a helpful imp beamed, hopping on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. Why people gathered all around to watch someone die, you had no idea, but more importantly, the crowd was blocking your path home. Industrious vendors selling ale and popcorn wove through the throng to collect what coins they could from the event. In the capital, everyone had a hustle, and few left the chance to make some money at the table. 

“Out of the way!” You shouted, shouldering whoever was unlucky enough to be in your way. 

The voice of the city guardsman who was reading off a list of offenses to the crowd drowned yours out, but with a few well-placed shoves, you managed to make it to the front. You were looking around, trying to figure out how to get across the plaza, when you glanced up to see a familiar face. 

“It’s you!” you blurted as your eyes locked with the brilliant chartreuse irises of the Orc standing on the gallows. 

He gave you a wan smile, lifting his tied hands to wave at you. His straight nose was up in the air as if all the rabble around him should be fortunate to have the privilege of watching him die. The thick olive locs you remembered being long had been roughly chopped short around his ears. Still, even dressed in an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit, he had a regal air about him. His barrel chest was puffed, strong muscles peaking between the frayed fabric. 

“Fifty counts of robbery…25 counts of counterfeiting gold coins…seven counts of horse theft…”

The Orc you’d met before’s name was Saber. He’d helped you get your broken cart into town one rainy afternoon…, and then he’d also stolen your necklace, which you’d realized after he’d disappeared. 

“As per the King’s edict, If any citizen pledges to save this soul from the gallows by way of marriage, please step forth.” 

Though he was handsome, no one raised their hands to save him. Instead, they all booed. Judging by the rotten vegetables hurled at him, he seemed to have robbed almost everyone in the capital. 

“Aye!” you shouted, hiking up your pants to pull yourself onto the stage. 

The guardsmen’s eyebrows shot up when you’d straightened yourself.

“I’ll marry the sorry bastard.” 

“Are you sure? He’ll most likely rob you and run off. He’s better off dead.” 

“I have business with this one,” you informed him, snapping your fingers. “Come on then. Let’s get this over with.” 

The guardsman shrugged and jerked the noose off of his neck, a little disappointed. The crowd wasn’t happy either, hurling insults along with their vegetables. 

“Quiet! Quiet!” the guardsman shouted after shoving Saber forward for the “ceremony.”

He took a deep breath, jerking a notebook out of his pocket.

“Alright,” he began, snorting. “State your name for the record.” 

“(Y/N).”

“Lovely elven name,” he murmured as he jotted it down. “Now then, do you (Y/N) take this here, criminal, Saber Wintermaple to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

You gave him a sharp nod. 

“I do.” 

He swung a lazy eye at Saber. 

“Do you Saber Wintermaple, take this kind elf to be your betrothed?” 

He gave you a bright smile. 

“I do.” 

The guardsman snapped the book closed, shoving Saber towards you. 

“I hereby declare you two duly betrothed under the King’s law. This Orc is your problem now, citizen. You’d better keep him out of trouble, or you’ll be up here next to him!”

He handed you the thick rope looped around the binding, keeping Saber’s hands tied, and waved you two off. The audience, bored without bloodshed, had already started dispersing, making it easy for you to tug Saber towards the road leading to the forest. 

“I didn’t know I made such a pleasant impression,” Saber said cheerfully, following you out of town.

You whirled around and jammed a finger in his face. 

“I wouldn’t describe it as pleasant. You owe me a gold necklace! Give it back, or you can work off the coin you owe me!” 

He chuckled.

“I’m fresh out of coins, little elf.” 

He scratched his chin and looked up, thinking. 

“I’m pretty sure I lost that necklace in a game of dice.” 

He shrugged. 

“You lost my only possession of any value in a game of dice?” 

You scrubbed your hand over your face, counting back from ten so you didn’t explode.  

“Maybe I should have let you die.”

Frowning, you looked over him from toe to head. 

“At least you look strong enough. I’m sure I can find something useful for you to do!” 

You stopped where the two of you stood in the middle of the trail and pulled a small charm from your basket. 

“I was going to use this on my coin purse since there was a thief on the loose, but it’s probably better applied to you!” 

You looped the charm around his neck, closing your eyes to whisper the spell. A gust of spirit wind, fluffed your hair as the magic twirled around Saber. When you opened your eyes again, there was a blue thread linking the two of you that only you could see. 

“What was that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on you. 

“It’s a binding spell, so you can’t run off with my stuff again,” you explained.

His eyebrows jumped, and he tugged at the little talisman around his neck. 

“It won’t come off.” 

You nodded proudly. 

“Exactly.”

He took a moment to examine you carefully, tapping his chin again. 

“Interesting,” he murmured.  

“What? What does that mean?” 

He smiled and shrugged.

“Lead the way, spouse.” 

You sighed, turning and pulling him through the bumpy trail in the woods to your little home. When you’d fled your homeland to the Capital, you’d been lucky to find an abandoned cottage outside the city walls. It wasn’t massive, with only the basic living quarters, but it must have at some point belonged to someone’s Saber’s size, as the door and counters were much too high. You’d spent much of the money you earned selling charms and ointments, buying stools and ladders to reach things. 

“You poor thing,” Saber sighed as you passed through the magic barrier you’d cast to keep your home hidden from bandits.

“You don’t need to patronize me,” you huffed. “You’re the one almost hanged and run out of town.” 

He ignored you, looking around. 

“I feel kind of bad for stealing your necklace now that I’ve seen where you live. This place is a mess.” 

You examined your home, trying to see it through his eyes. Every available surface was covered in books, alchemy equipment, or ingredients. Even the chairs were covered in cast-off scrolls, books, or charms. 

“It’d be nice to have a workshop,” you admitted. “But that’s much too expensive.”

You straightened your slumping shoulders and lifted your chin. 

“No matter, you won’t be spending much time sitting down. I’ve got loads of things that need doing.” 

He gave you a sharp nod and held out his hands. 

“You’ll have to untie me if you want me to work.” 

Pulling a small blade from your basket, you sawed through the thick binding. Free to move as he pleased, he wrung his stiff wrists as he perused your living room. Occasionally he would pick something up, then put it down again, finally crouching to examine a bucket filled with water. 

“What are you doing?” 

He peered up at the leak in the roof that was letting rainwater drip through. 

“This needs fixing, or the roof will rot out.”

Pushing off of his knees, he turned to you. 

“How long have you been living alone?” 

You blushed, embarrassed. 

“I dunno, my whole life, I guess. The elven town where I came from didn’t have an orphanage or anything, so when I was old enough, I took off toward the capital. It took a while to get here…but here I am. I thought there would be more…I don’t know…opportunity here.” 

“How has that worked out for you? Living in a house clearly not meant for you and marrying a man on the gallows.” 

You gave him an indignant snuff. 

“At least I’m not a thief!” 

He chuckled, leaning against a bookshelf, rolling a gold coin on his knuckles. Your eyes narrowed on it, and you reached in your pocket to find you’d been relieved of your day’s earnings. 

“Hey! You stole that!” 

He laughed, revealing straight white teeth, and jingled the other coins in his pocket. 

“Don’t worry, I can’t get away with it, right?” 

You sucked in a deep annoyed breath. 

“I have things to do. Make yourself useful and chop some wood. It’s going to be cold when the sun sets.” 

“Whatever you say, spouse,” he replied, giving you a sarcastic salute as you dropped your basket and hurried to the kitchen to get started on dinner. 

What had you been thinking marrying a criminal? You paused for a moment, eyes growing misty. You didn’t really think he still had your necklace, did you? You let out a sigh just short of a sob. Were you really that lonely? Maybe it hurt that he’d been so kind to you, just to trick you. You should have been happy to see him hanged, yet the lingering magic that followed all elves had whispered that you ought to save him. 

But why? You weren’t in any position to support a husband. Though you’d instructed yourself on the knowledge of various potions and charms, you weren’t the only one. The city was teaming with Academy-bred alchemists who far surpassed your skill. They had access to rare ingredients and an army of assistants. You had to scrape out a living selling your wares far cheaper than the competition even to get noticed at the market. Hustling day to day, you certainly didn’t have the time or money to pretty yourself up to find a partner. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you grumbled, returning to chopping tubers for soup. 

A thick THWACK, drew your eyes out the kitchen window to Saber splitting logs across the lawn. He’d divested himself of his ratty shirt, and every thick muscle was on display as he lifted the ax over his head and dropped it down again. The logs felt apart like they were nothing more than twigs under his might. 

Your eye focused on the dark, wet slashes across his shoulder blades where his jailors had beaten him. He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced up and waved. Blushing, you hurriedly pulled the curtains, returning to your task. 

Unable to get his injuries out of your mind, you felt bad for making him chop wood while he was hurt. When you’d plopped the tubers into your cooking pot, you gathered up some healing and numbing salves, making your way out the door. 

“Need something?” he asked, looking up from his task. 

“Sit down,” you barked. 

A thick eyebrow rose, and he tipped his head. 

“Why? Planning on lobbing my head off?” 

You wrinkled your nose at him. 

“No, of course not! You’re massive. How would I even go about burying your body? I can’t have a rotting corpse stinking up the place. Just sit!” 

He leaned his axe against the stump he was using to brace the wood and sat down on it. You dug in your basket, pulling out some cleanser to clean the wounds. Beside the big ugly gashes, Saber’s skin was a smooth, pretty green, the planes of his muscles sharp and defined. The first brush of your hand on his back made him jump. 

“S-sorry,” you muttered.

“‘Ts fine. Just not used to people touching me. Go on.” 

You spread the thick gel you used carefully over each angry line. 

“What do you mean? You’ve never had a partner before me?” 

He paused for a moment before he jerked his head. 

“I had a girlfriend once, but she left me.” 

“Why?” 

“Some noble offered her his hand and well…I couldn’t compete.”

He sighed. 

“She was happy to keep me on as her side piece, but I’ve got too much of an ego to be someone’s toy.” 

Your eyebrows jumped at his candor, but you just hummed, plastering clean wraps to his skin so the wounds could heal. His skin was warm under your fingers, making the tips tingle. When you were done, you found yourself tipping forward on your toes to peck the back of his neck. When you’d realized what you’d done, your ears burned, and you coughed loudly. 

“Sorry, ah…sorry,” you muttered, unsure what to say. “You’re…ah…going to have to sleep on your stomach, so you don’t make these worse.” 

He swiveled around to look at you, smiling. 

“Thanks, doc!”

“I’m not a doctor.” 

He shrugged. 

“What’s the difference?” 

“Ten years of special-”

You shook your head, realizing he was teasing you.

“I think that’s enough wood for tonight. Come inside. Dinner’s almost ready.” 

He grinned at you, his stomach grumbling, as he scooped up some of the wood he’d cut and tucked it under one arm. You wondered how much they let him eat in prison, worried he was starving. 

“What’d my sweet little spouse cook for me?” he asked. 

“Just some sweet potato soup. It’s not gourmet.” 

He frowned. 

“No meat?” 

You blinked at him. 

“You have all the money I made today in your pocket. How can I afford meat with those few coins?” 

He nodded, appearing to be thinking through the problem thoroughly. 

When you returned inside, you dipped the two of you bowls of soup, filling his twice as much as yours. You assured yourself it was because he couldn’t work without proper nutrition, not because you liked him. 

“So how far does this magic thingie let me go?” he asked as you sat down at the table. 

“Why, trying to run off?” 

He smirked. 

“No, why would I want to run away from you?” 

He chewed on a big spoonful of sweet potatoes before he continued. 

“I’ve got a cute little spouse who makes me dinner and kisses my cuts.” 

Your cheeks blew up in flames, and you choked on a mouthful of soup. You tried to retain your composure by quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. 

“A couple of miles in any direction.” 

“Wow, didn’t think you’d give me such a long leash.” 

You shrugged. 

“I can’t be right at your side every minute.” 

He gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 

“You don’t want me by your side every minute of the day?” 

Unsure if he was joking or not, you jerked your spoon at his soup. 

“Let’s…stop talking for a while. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 

While the two of you ate quietly, you did your best to keep your eyes on your bowl. Every time you happened to glance up, he was watching you with an odd smile on his face. Almost like satisfaction. 

You were relieved when you finally finished and could turn your back on him to rinse the dishes. 

“You can take the bed if you want,” you called over your shoulder as you stood on your tip toes to return the bowls to the cabinet. As your arm stretched, Saber appeared behind you, plucking the dishes out of your hand and easily placing them where they were supposed to go. 

“Where are you going to sleep?” he asked, extending a hand to help you off of the little ladder you were perched on. 

“There’s a couch in the living room.” 

He wrinkled his nose. 

“It’s covered in stuff.” 

You shrugged, trying to hurry past him. 

“I’ll clean it up.”

You found your feet swinging in the air as he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” 

“My spouse is not sleeping on the sofa. I never thought I’d have a spouse, so I’ve got to take proper care of you.” 

He patted your butt for emphasis. 

“Are you crazy?” you snapped, only not banging on his back with your fists because he was injured. “We can’t sleep together! We just met!” 

Your body bounced on his shoulder as he chuckled. 

“You weren’t concerned with that when you insisted on marrying me!” 

“They were going to kill you!” 

He flopped you down on your bed, caging you in with his big arms. His head dipped to drag the tip of his nose along the length of your neck. 

“So you do like me!” he whispered into your skin. 

“I do not,” you huffed, pushing his chest.

Though your muscles did nothing to move him, he rose so you could scoot out across the bed. You quickly scrambled into the bathroom to change into your pajamas. 

When you came back out, Saber was slipping off his pants. 

“What are you doing now?” You gasped, cheeks heating at the sight of the thick shaft hanging between his legs.  

He glanced up, a slight smirk on his face as he folded his clothes. 

“I can't sleep in these prison clothes. I'll get the sheets all dirty!” 

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. He was right. He was filthy from sleeping on dirty straw in prison. 

“Come on,” you said, flicking two fingers at him. “You need a bath. You’re probably covered in fleas! 

Fortunately, your house came equipped with one large enough to fit Saber’s big body. With a flick of your fingers, the tub was filled, and with a few whispers of a spell, the water was hot. 

“Get in,” you said. 

Making himself comfortable, he looked back at you over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. 

“You tryin’ to watch? Naughty little elf!” 

You let out a long sigh. 

“No, I’m just going to ensure you don’t get your bandages wet, or it will all have been a waste. Supplies are expensive,” you huffed, picking up the sponge. “Now, sit still!”

Saber smirked but let you lift each of his arms as you scrubbed him. 

“So how did your old girlfriend take it when you decided you wouldn’t be your affair partner?”

He glanced at you, eyes ever thoughtful. His long look brought heat to your cheeks. 

“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” 

He shrugged, his jaw tightening. 

“She was rather smug. She spent her whole life wishing to elevate herself.” 

A long sigh slipped past his lips. 

“I could never make her happy. I lied, cheated, stole; whatever I could do…but she looked down her nose at all of it.”

Your mouth fell open. 

“I’m…I’m sorry. You don’t have to…”

He waved a thick hand, his warm palm gently landing on your head and lightly ruffling your hair. 

“Think nothing of it. It’s kind of nice to get it off my chest.” 

“So that’s why you're a crook? To make her happy?”

He smirked. 

“I was a crook. Now I’m a married man. I can’t get into trouble. I have a spouse who relies on me.” 

He pinched your chin. 

“Prison was difficult enough without knowing I was missing out on such a cute little face. Now, it would crush me.” 

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you jerked your head away, grabbing the nearest towel and tossing it to him. 

“Careful, don’t jostle your bandages,” you wheezed before making your escape. “Whoever lived here before left some clothes in the chest by the door. They ought to fit.” 

You were so busy slowing your beating heart that you blew out the lantern and slid into your bed without thinking Saber would soon follow. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to feign sleep, when you heard his heavy footsteps approach. He paused for a moment, doing Goddess knows what, before he carefully laid down next to you. 

The mattress dipped under his weight, and your body slid into his. You heard him draw in a sharp breath as your warm forms pressed together. 

“Mind your wounds. Make sure you sleep on your side,” you whispered into the darkness. 

You felt him adjust slightly, and then a heavy arm draped over your waist. Despite yourself, it was warm and the weight felt nice. Comforting. Now that he’d used your soap, he smelled like home. His breath brushed the hairs on your neck and another arm slid underneath you to use as a pillow. You would have pulled away, but you’d never slept so close to someone before. 

Living on the street for most of your life, left you with scars. You didn’t realize how deep they’d cut you until Saber’s large body curled around yours. You felt safe. 

When you woke the next morning, the bed next to you was empty. Your heart thumped heavily in your chest, wondering where he’d gone. Had it all been a dream? 

The pile of dirty prison clothes folded and placed on top of a chest proved that it had not. 

Breathing slowly, in the meditation you’d taught yourself, you stretched your awareness out, reaching for the blue thread. Saber was half a mile from you. You wondered what he could possibly be doing. 

“Orc things, probably,” you muttered, making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

It wasn’t like he could run off; there was nothing in that direction but trees. Through the window, you could see the sun up over the tree line, telling you that you’d slept much later than usual. 

Usually, you’d have left at sunrise to sell your wares in the Capital market, but it was far too late now. Instead, you grabbed an apple from the kitchen and started fussing with your alchemy materials. Now that Saber was living with you, you were sure you needed to straighten up so he didn’t break something. 

Walking across the room, you automatically skipped around the bucket on the floor; only the bucket was gone. You frowned, but looking at the ceiling, someone had replaced one of the boards with a fresh one. Had Saber done that while you were sleeping? 

You huffed, returning to straightening your books. At least he’s putting himself to work. 

You were trying to remember the order in which a pair of books written in ancient elven were arranged alphabetically when the bell above your door jingled. 

Since your home was hidden with magic, the bell told you someone was nearby. It was a charm you rarely used. No one had any reason to look for you. The most it had rung was when you ordered a special cauldron or tomb and happened to have the cash to have it delivered. 

Curious if a traveler was lost, you put your books down and wandered outside. 

“Morning, spouse!” 

Saber’s voice made you jump when he appeared hauling a deer on his shoulders. 

“What’s that?” 

He shrugged the creature off of his shoulders. 

“Meat!” he announced proudly. 

You nodded at him, your eyes catching on his bare chest, glazed with a sheen of sweat. 

“Where are you off to?” he asked. 

“Someone is here,” you murmured, forcing your gaze from the sharp planes of his muscles to continue down the path. 

A shadow draped over you, and you glanced up to see him looming. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m going with you. It could be someone dangerous.” 

You shook your head but continued on your way with him in tow. 

“Helloooo? Helllloooo?” 

A female voice was screaming through the trees. When you rounded the bend, your eyes landed on an expensive carriage and a beautiful fairy shouting at the top of her lungs.  Her pink hair fell in glittering curls around her shoulders, and matching wings emerged from her back.

“Damn it! Saber! Where the fuck are you?” 

“Can I help you?” you asked as you stepped through your magic barrier. 

Her eyes narrowed, but not on you. She looked directly behind you. 

“Saber! There you are!” 

She grinned, fluttering her winds and flying past you. Irritation immediately pricked your heart as the woman threw her arms around him. Turning around, you found him looking at her with wide eyes. 

“Melody…what are you doing here? How did you find me?” 

“I’m here to see you, of course. I heard you were going to be hung, but an elf saved you! I asked around the market and was told you’d been taken here. I was so worried!” 

When she cupped his chin with her delicate hand, you crossed your arms, eyes narrowing. 

“Not someone. Me.” you interjected. 

You marched towards Saber and grabbed him by the arm. 

“Saber is my husband. Who are you?” 

She wrinkled her nose at you, ignoring your question. Her hand slid down Saber’s chest despite you. 

“Is there someplace we can talk? Privately?” 

Saber’s shocked face tightened. 

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate ask in front of my spouse, Melody.” 

She scoffed. 

“You’ve been married…what? 8 hours? Saber, I think I more than deserve a little of your time. Especially as the mother of your child.” 

Your jaw dropped, and your hand pulled away from Saber. It was true, you’d only known him for a few hours, but a child was something he ought to have mentioned. 

His brow drew, looking between you and her. 

“What child?” 

She huffed, frowning at you. 

“Fine…If you must do this, this way.” 

She turned to the carriage and yelled. 

“Nora, bring the baby!” 

A maid climbed out of the carriage holding a small whimpering bundle. You gasped as the woman presented Saber with a little green newborn. 

Saber’s eyes popped, his mouth opening and closing as the maid pressed the child into his hands. 

“This…he…is mine?” 

Melody nodded. 

“Yes, and it’s time for you to take responsibility.” 

He glanced up at her. 

“You want to get back together?” 

She let out a cruel but trilling laugh. 

“Oh heavens no. I need you to take him. Dante hasn’t seen him yet. He thinks I’ve delivered his child. I had the maids tell him I was recovering for the past month so I could sneak him out. If he finds out I’ve been carrying your baby this whole time, he’ll throw me out on the street!” 

Anger roiled under your skin. 

“So what baby are you going to present to him?” you demanded. 

She snorted as if that were a foolish question. 

“I’ll get a baby from the slums. Plenty of mothers would happily give their child the life of a Lord’s son without question.”

She fluttered her iridescent wings. 

“It only need be a fairy child.” 

You could see the pain and confusion settle on Saber’s face. Stepping between the two of them, you gently pried the bundle out of Saber’s hands, looking at his cute little button nose and glossy baby curls. 

“Of course, we will take him, but on one condition.” 

She glanced at you. 

“What do you want? Money?”

You let out a tight chuff. 

“No. We never want to see you again. If he is our baby, he is ours. Don’t think you can change your mind and come running back here looking for him or Saber. The second you step foot in your carriage, this child and my husband are dead to you.” 

Her eyes jerked to Saber. 

“Saber. You can’t mean that. Of course, I want to see you…Dante, however, can’t know. You understand, don't you? This is everything we've dreamed about! You ought to support me!"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"I grew up in the gutter, too," you hissed. "But I'd never treat someone the way you have treated my husband. He is too good for you and I won't tolerate you buzzing around us like a nasty fly."

She glared at you.

"He's my child! You're just jealous Saber and I have history!"

Saber's jaw locked, and he put his arm around you, giving her a disgusted grimace. 

“Have you named him?” he asked. 

She looked contrite but lifted her chin. 

“I…ah…it didn’t occur to me...” 

He nodded and glanced down at you, holding his child. 

“Then…I agree with (Y/N). You’ll never know his name. You’ll never see him grow. You’ll never return to ruin our peace.” 

“But Saber-” 

“Don’t say my husband’s name, either.” you snapped. “You thought you’d come here and drop all of your responsibilities in his lap and then keep stringing him along as a toy? It’s not going to work like that. You have your family, and we have ours.” 

You jerked your chin at her. 

“Make your choice. Either leave the child or be prepared to explain to your husband who he belongs to. Those are the only options.”

Her pretty face contorted into an ugly, wrinkled mask, and she lifted her skirt to turn on her heels. 

“Fine! It’s not like I want the child of a thief anyway!”  

Snapping at her maid, she hovered back to her carriage, and they disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust. You smiled down at the little baby, who’d managed to sleep through the drama. 

“Saber, I know I shouldn’t have spoken for you…I just- He deserves better than to grow up with the knowledge his mother believes him to be less than. Can you imagine him living as her secret? Sneaking around to hide him? If she passed him in the street, she’d ignore him to preserve her status. He’d be heartbroken. I won’t let that happen. I hope I didn’t overstep, but I’m not sorry for it.” 

He dropped to his knees, eyes wet, and pushed his head into your shoulder. His big arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight.

“You said just the right thing,” he murmured, then turned his head to look at his son. “What should we name him?” 

You smiled at him. 

“Let’s talk it over over lunch.” 

The two of you walked back down the path together, both having a hard time keeping your gaze off the baby. He wriggled in his sleep, making you both see hearts.

“Maybe we should move,” you murmured. “Just to be sure…and to give him a fresh start.” 

He looked down at you. 

“You won’t miss this place?” 

You sighed. 

“No…this is just a house. We have a family now. He should grow up in a happy little town, not the capital…we’ll have to save for a few months, but I think we can do it.” 

“We don’t have to save. I have plenty of money.” 

You froze in your tracks, looking up at him.

“What? I thought you said you were broke?” 

He smiled down at you. 

“I meant I didn't have any coin on me. I didn’t just piss all of my ill-gotten gains away. I hid them. Follow me.” 

He tugged the two of you into the forest, walking quite a ways until you reached an oddly placed rock. Saber crouched down and uprooted a bush with a stiff jerk. Then he cleared the soil away, revealing a wooden chest. He turned the little dial a few ways until it clicked, and the chest opened with a creak. Your eyes widened at the hundreds of gold coins piled inside. He casually tugged the gold he’d lifted from you out of his pocket and tossed it inside with a metallic clink. 

“I think we can buy a nice place with this.” 

You were still completely confused. He rummaged around in the coins, producing the gold necklace he’d stolen. Standing, he fastened it around your neck with the nimble fingers of a thief.

“I thought you lost it gambling?” 

He shrugged. 

“I lied.” 

“Why did you keep it?” 

He gave you a long look.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. Something told me not to sell it.” 

“But…what about the rest? I thought you gave it all to Melody?” 

“I tried to…we grew up in the capital, in the same slums she wants to buy a baby from. It wasn’t ever about what I could provide her. She wanted to erase her past. She wanted a title…to be a lady, to be able to lift her nose at the very people she grew up with.

I started saving after she failed at her first attempt at seducing some highborn. At the time, I had this romantic dream that I could surprise her with a big house, start a business, and be the Lord she wanted so badly…but… as time passed, I realized I was already tainted in her eyes. She wanted the right blood attached to her money. It took me too long to be ready to pull away. Dante was the nail in the coffin, so to speak.” 

He tugged the chest from the ground, hauling it onto his shoulder before leading you back through the forest.  

“Even though I knew I wasn’t enough…I foolishly still loved her. I was a mess when he proposed. That’s why I got caught. I went on a bender that lasted most of a year…Fortunately, I never touched this. Maybe I held out hope since Melody still entertained my attention…but I got sloppy and ended up in jail.” 

His gaze dropped to the baby. 

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn't have ever known about him. Anything could have happened to him if you hadn’t-”

He choked a bit, a couple of tears slipping down his cheek. You didn’t push him to finish his sentence. You knew what he was trying to say. 

“What about Arel?” you asked. 

“Arel? That sounds like an Elvin name.” 

You smiled at the little baby’s chubby cheeks. 

“It is…it means ‘treasure’.” 

He stopped, bending down to examine his son more closely. The baby’s eyes opened, and you saw that they were the same pretty chartreuse as his father’s. The two of them looked at one another in awe. 

“I like Arel,” he said, brushing a thick finger over his cheek. 

Arel’s big eyes grew wet, and he started to croon. 

Shock and worry bloomed on Saber’s face. 

“Is he okay?” 

“I think he’s hungry. I have some goat milk at home.” 

Saber straightened, and you had to almost jog to keep up with him, the two of you hurrying home to start your life as a family.

[seeingivy]

the met gala

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: the end contains some possibly triggering content. toxic man moment/unsafe situation so dni and protect ur peace if you need to.

an: fan service to the highest t. you want laufey? i'l give you laufey. you want sukuna? ill give you sukuna. did you ask for catoru gojo? no but i'll give it to you anyways. and the end is a nice yummy lil eren little fdklsfjdksljfkdlsjfkdsjk. also I changed real life met gala lore idgaf if they don't do real perfomances there bc they do now

songs mentioned: death of a bachelor by panic at the disco, seven by taylor swift, promise by laufey, and dorothea by taylor swift

previous part linked here

--

Eren waits for it in nervous anticipation. Because despite everything Hyla and Lana say, he knows for a fact that you won’t be staying silent. That Danny and Sareen wouldn’t let this slide and neither would you. 

And it eats at him while he waits for the real response, beyond that video Connie posted of you, Mikasa, Connie, and Jean dancing to Girlfriend and your tweets about how much you loved the song. 

He’s positive that a forty second video can’t be all you’re doing. People loved it and thought it was funny. But surely that can’t be it. 

“I can’t believe all your friends sided with her. I thought you were close with Connie.” Lana mentions. 

“I was. Before you did that.” Eren responds, clenching his jaw. He can feel anger surging through his blood, every minuscule fraction of frustration building even more - like it had been for the past three days since the awards show. 

It's irritating how quick things crumble down. He figures this is what Sukuna was talking about. Because the last time he talked to Connie was when Mikasa called him and it was nothing short of irritating. 

Eren’s phone rings in the middle of the night and he’s nearly scrambling out of his bed because he thinks it’s you. Nine hours after the awards show and you’ve finally gotten the chance to respond.

Except he sees Mikasa’s name flashing across the screen, accompanied with her contact picture which is you and Mikasa sleeping.

“Mika? What’s wrong?” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you Eren?” 

“Mikasa. Okay, I can ex-” 

“You can explain? You can explain why you just humiliated Y/N in public? Are you serious?” 

“I-I know it’s bad and she hasn’t picked up my calls and-” 

“Eren. Is there something wrong with you? Because I don’t even recognize you right now. You would never do something like this, let alone to her of all people.” 

“Did you just call me to yell at me Mikasa? You don’t think I feel bad enough about it already? You don’t think I would have stopped it if I had any idea it was going to happen?” 

He hears the line get quieter and Mikasa murmuring over the phone, only to be met with Connie talking to him now. 

“Hi Eren. It’s Connie.” 

Eren sighs, the fact that Mikasa’s so put off she won’t even talk to him sitting wrong with him all together. 

“Hi Con.” 

“You okay, man?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, is she okay?” 

“Mika? You know her, she gets mad so fast and-” 

“Not her.” Eren whispers. 

“Oh. No, no that’s why we called. She won’t talk to any of us. We called to see if you would know what to do because we’re coming short on ideas.” 

The words die on Eren’s tongue. The first line of defense when you get like this is always him, because he can always get you to talk. 

Could always get you to talk. 

“You tried Levi?” 

“Yes.” 

“Her brothers. You need to fly Falco and Colt out now. I’ll pay for the tickets. Get the shin ramen from the store, it’s her comfort food - put half of the spice packet in because she can’t eat it too spicy, make sure you boil the egg for six minutes because she likes it when it’s still a little runny, and chop ONLY carrots and green onions for the vegetables. And put on Spy Family, it’s her favorite show. Her favorite episode is nine, I think. It’s called Show Off How In Love You Are. ” 

“Okay, that’s all great man. Really. Thanks.” 

“Connie?” 

“Yeah?” 

The thought crosses his mind so fast and suddenly he's asking it.

“Do you hate me?” Eren asks, the whisper in his voice sounding so pitiful that he’s almost embarrassed. 

“No, Eren. I could never. Just, I have to be here because she needs us right now. You get that.” 

“No, no I do. Take care of her, please. Tell me how it goes.” 

“Yeah man. Sure.” 

Connie hangs up and the guilt eats at Eren. 

Eren hears the resounding pounding of footsteps - only to be met with Myka, Hyla, and two other people he’s literally never seen before - standing in his bedroom. 

The first thing he learned quickly about filming with these people? They have no concept of personal space or time. 

“What?” 

“Ricky and Y/N. They made a music video. Put it on.” Myka states, the group of them crawling onto Eren’s bed as he starts pulling up the video. 

The thumbnail already has him sick to his stomach. It’s you kissing Ricky’s cheek. The video starts with you and Ricky’s hands, playing the piano together, and it takes Eren all but three seconds to realize that this is the horrible, gut-wrenching response he was waiting for. 

His first cue? Not only are the two of you playing the piano together, but you and Ricky are wearing matching, beaded bracelets with each other’s names on them. Like the ones you and Eren have, the one he keeps on him at all times. 

The camera pans up to the two of you and Ricky starts singing, which earns him a nice list of profanities from Lana at his side. 

Do I look lonely? I see the shadows on my face People have told me I don't look the same Maybe I lost weight I'm playing hooky with the best of the best Put my heart on my chest so that you can see it, too I'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall The lace in your dress tangles my neck, how do I live?

His second cue? The dress you’re wearing in the video, the one with the lace, is one he knows all too well. 

“Okay so, Eren. I have to find a dress to wear for the album premiere tomorrow. And it's my first album and it's special and I want it to be perfect. Something kind of soft and casual, since it’s just going to be just fans. Can you help me pick?” 

Eren nods as he flops back onto the soft plush of your bed, eyes focused on all the little pictures and knick knacks littered over the walls of your childhood bedroom. Participation awards for sports, signed letters from your teachers, and pictures of you and Colt doing karaoke. 

“Ew, Eren. Don’t look at those.” 

“What do you mean? You were such a cute baby.” 

Eren hopes your kids don’t inherit your messy hair genes as you walk up to his side and look at the picture - of you and Colt with little pink microphones in your hand and the little plastic crown on your head. 

“You know, you still do that.” 

“Do what?” 

“Everyone else holds the microphone at the top, their fingers nearly wrapped around the wire. You’re like the only person I know who holds it at the bottom - like you’re doing in the picture.” 

You roll your eyes as you gesture to the dress, asking for his opinion. Eren stands up, grabbing you by the wrist, to spin you around in the air. And he loves the sound of your laugh and how you berate him immediately after. 

“Eren. Be serious. What do you think?” 

“Perfect. Wear this one.” 

“But it’s black - it doesn’t really fit the vibe that I wanted to go with.” 

“Good point. No one should see you in this but me. Try another one on.” Eren states, placing a kiss on your neck before walking over to your bookshelf. 

"You're no help." you whine.

"I'm biased. You look good in everything, sweetheart."

He’s running his hands against the spines of your books, clearly bent and broken from reading them so much as you try on the next dress. 

“Love?” 

“Hm?” your voice comes out, all muffled from the sound of the closet door. 

“How many times have you read the Goblet of Fire? This spine is demolished.” 

He feels your limbs wrap around his neck and a kiss on his cheek as you lazily murmur into his skin. 

“Lots. Cedric Diggory was my first love.” 

“Oh? Really?” 

Eren turns around and makes it a point to pointedly glare at you, which you return with the sweetest, cheesiest of smiles as you tease him on. 

“Oh, of course. I’ve always had a thing for Hufflepuffs.” 

“Would you look at that? I’m a Hufflepuff too.” 

“No, you’re not. You’re a Ravenclaw, Eren.” 

“I was expecting you to say Slytherin.” 

“No, I feel like that’s a cop-out answer. You’re intelligent, creative, and clever. Ravenclaw.” 

Eren smiles as he brings his hands down to your wrists again, spinning you in the air again. He brings his hands up to your hair to tuck your hair behind your ears before responding. 

“Nope. Very pretty, but too formal for something small like this.” 

“I appreciate the honesty this time, mon chéri. I only have one more, so it better be the one.” 

Eren leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

“What was that for?” 

“I love it when you speak French to me.” he whispers. 

Eren watches you roll your eyes as you disappear into your closet again. He settles into the seat at your desk, flipping through the song lyrics in your bound notebook.

And he doesn’t miss the polaroids you have taped into certain pages - the one of the two of you at the vow renewal on your invisible string page and one of him at the piano on the New Year’s Day page. 

“Okay, Eren. Good?” 

Eren turns around to find you shyly smiling at him, hands tucked behind your back. It’s a soft white dress, with a lace neckline. Eren thinks it makes you look like an angel. He makes it a point to stand up just so he can push you onto the bed behind you and lean right over you. 

“Eren.” 

He leans forward and starts peppering kisses all over your cheeks and your face, leaving longer lingering ones in your neck that leave you in a fit of nervous giggles and saying his name so softly it only sets him off more. 

“It should be illegal-” 

Kiss. 

“To look like this.” 

Kiss. 

“You’re doing this on purpose.” 

Kiss. 

“Doing what?” 

“Trying to drive me crazy, love.” 

“Am not, Eren. It’s just a dress.” 

“It’s never just a dress with you. Be serious, Y/N.” 

He watches your eyes go wide, a soft pink dusting your cheeks. Your hands are resting on his face and he swears they’re shaking, your arms trembling along with them. Eren brings his hand to your cheek, softly brushing across the skin once. 

“Hey. What is it?” he whispers. 

“You said my name.” 

“I say your name all the time.” 

“No, no. You always call me love or sweetheart.” 

“Do you like it when I say your name, Y/N?” 

He watches the blush spread across your cheeks again as you nod, the sweetest smile on your face. 

“I like how you say it. Y/N.” 

“I love your name. Though, it’s missing something.” 

He watches you frown, the confused look spreading across your face. 

“What’s that?” 

“My last name at the end.” he responds, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“Ew, Eren. That was so corny.” 

He brings his hands down to the side of your dress, where the zipper lies and starts pulling down. He watches the shock spread on your face, immediately pulling back. 

“Are you crazy? Falco and Colt are still here even if my parents aren’t.” 

“Falco is sleeping over across the street. And Colt is definitely at a party and pretending not to be. Who takes limes and salt to a study session? He definitely needs those for the drinks, silly girl.” he responds, sliding the dress off your shoulders and burying his face in the crook of your neck, leaving lazy kisses all over your skin. 

“Eren.” 

“Hm?” 

“Chelseaiswatching.” you murmur. 

“Huh?” 

“Chelsea is watching.” you whisper.

“Who the fuck is Chelsea?” he asks, the panic laced in his voice. 

You point over his shoulder and he immediately rolls his eyes when he sees her, bringing his hands up to pinch your cheeks. 

“Are you being serious? You can’t kiss me back because your stuffed animal is watching?” 

“Eren. It’s weird, I’ve had her since I was a kid. And my dad bought her for me.” you whine. 

“And you think she’s going to narc on you?” 

“No. It’s the principle, Eren! Don’t do inappropriate things when kids or kid-like things are present.” 

Eren stands up, making it a point to pick up your stuffed animal and bury it in the back of your closet before he returns, hands on his hips. 

“Okay. Anything else? Do I need to put tape over your posters of Loid Forger doesn’t watch us doing it?” 

“Now that you say it, it’s actually-” 

“Too bad.” 

And well after being tangled in the sheets together, Eren pretends not to be offended when you pull on a hoodie and immediately get out of bed and reach for your notebook and your pen instead of cuddling with him after. 

You crawl back in the bed next to him, where he immediately rests his head in your lap and starts groaning. You reach forward to push the messy hair out of his face and make a mental note to cover up the purple skin on his neck later so Colt doesn’t hang you at the cross whenever he comes back. 

“Did I get you that inspired that you can’t hold me right now?” 

“Basically. You’re my muse, Eren.” 

“What’s the song called, Y/N?” 

“Dress.” 

“Clever. I wonder what it’s about.” he responds, pressing kisses along your thigh, consecutively going higher with each kiss. 

“Eren. Are you serious? It’s only been like ten minutes.” you respond, the nervous jittery feeling growing in your stomach. 

“It’s like vitamins. Can’t go without it.” 

“Do not refer to it as vitamins. And you can technically go without vitamins, if you’re like really healthy.” 

“Quit being a know-it-all. You know I meant like medicine.” 

“Eren.” you respond, a warning tone in your voice as you keep scribbling your lyrics out. 

“You get two minutes to finish what you’re writing and then I’m throwing that book out the window.” he responds, his breath on the inside of your legs tickling you. 

Eren knows you’re trying to drive him crazy and not in the way he likes. And it’s working. And Ricky’s all too agitating singing voice doesn’t make it any better. 

The death of a bachelor Oh oh Seems so fitting for Happily ever after (woo) How could I ask for more? A lifetime of laughter At the expense of the death of a bachelor

Eren watches you and Ricky dancing through the streets, while Ricky sings on and on about happily ever after, and he can’t help but slam the computer shut and all but push the group of them out of his room. And when he closes the door, all he can do is cry and hope they can’t hear him.

--

You peek out the window and count seven black cars and fourteen different people standing on the block, anxious faces craning up with shining black cameras in their hand. You feel a hand on your shoulder and know the ice cold hands can only be Ricky. 

“Hey.” 

“How many?” 

“Fourteen.” you groan, giving him a frown as you yank your shoulder out from under his hand and walk past him. 

You head to the vanity, where you’re going to place your last finishing touches on your outfit. Ricky’s quick to follow and lean into your space, with a smirk pressed on his face. 

“Ricky.” 

“Yes, babe?” 

“Ew. Do you need something? Or are you all up in my space for fun?” 

“For fun! You smell really good.” 

You make it a point to lightly shove him back, which you both laugh at as you clip on the sparkly necklace, making it a point to not move suddenly at all from this moment forward. 

It would be infinitely embarrassing if you ripped the first designer dress you wore. Especially when you have to return it later. 

Ricky swings his hand around you from the back and holds a cupcake in front of your face, a glimmering blue candle lit in the middle. You give him a questioning look in the mirror. 

“Baby’s first Met Gala!” 

You snort as you blow out the candle, taking it from his hands and pulling the wax out. 

“You’re welcome, by the way.” Ricky says. 

“For?” 

“The cupcake! And getting you invited to the Met Gala.” 

You smack his shoulder, giving him your angriest look, before you both laugh. 

“You’re a prick. I got invited all on my own.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.” he responds, sarcastically. 

“What flavor is the cupcake?” 

“Chocolate.” 

“Eh. I like vanilla.” you respond, swiping the frosting off the top with your finger. But before you can lick it, Ricky reaches for it first and swipes it right off your finger. 

“I mean, I was going to eat that, Ricky.” 

“I only like the frosting of the cupcake.” 

“Well, I only like the frosting too. Especially when it’s not the flavor of cake I like.” 

You hand Ricky the rest of the cupcake and grab your purse as you head out. You press the button on the elevator and both slide in when it opens, the anticipation of the fourteen people waiting outside for you and the hundred more who will be at the event sitting on you. You must be making some weird face because Ricky catches on to it super fast. 

“Just relax. It’s just paparazzi, not flying to the moon.” 

“I know that. I just feel like I’m not entirely here at the moment. And they’re all going to ask me about Girlfriend and you and Eren and I just-” 

You still haven’t encountered the press after the entire thing, despite most of the tabloids writing things in your favor. Because rehashing the worst thing that’s ever happened for you in the two seconds the paparazzi talk to you and have it become a whole convoluted story is not something you’re ready for. 

After the entire thing went down, you retreated to your room for one day. One day. With full intentions to mope for the rest of your life, because you would never live this down. And because the entire ordeal was so overstimulating, so stressful that you need to rest.  

Until Danny and Sareen dragged you out by the legs and forced you to film a music video with Ricky. Then go to his debut of the song and the music video in Times Square. And then they granted you your beauty rest, but then that stupid voice in your head got the best of you and you couldn’t help but watch what everyone said about the entire thing after the event. 

People thought the entire Girlfriend thing was really tasteless. Because it was. Ricky did a bunch of interviews, where he just talked you up and how the entire thing was ridiculous in his opinion. They thought it was sweet of Ricky to come to your defense with Death of a Bachelor and that your official debut as a couple was one for the books. 

You’ll take a win where you can get one. 

Everyone sided with you, which was nice. Fans wise but also from your real friends. Connie, Marco, Mikasa, and Jean were at your side the entire time, which you appreciated. 

Connie was the one that convinced you that “you had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever” and filmed a video of you, Jean, Mikasa, and him dancing to Girlfriend and posted it. 

Which was your favorite part of the entire thing, not because of the song, but because they were there for you through the entire thing. That Connie could make something mortifying funny for you. A bad memory a good one. A true testament to his support. 

Unlike some people. People’s inquisitive eyes leave no stone untouched and now rumors of a fallout between you and Historia are flying around, when she’s the only one to not publicly come to your defense. And you get it, she doesn’t have to. What you don’t understand is why she won’t return any of your calls. 

Ricky reaches down and grabs your hand, locking his fingers in yours as he gives you a smile, bringing you back down from the thoughts. 

“I won’t leave you, okay? Danny and Sareen said I should handle all those questions anyways.” 

“And if Lana comes up to me?” 

“Spit in her face. She’s really annoying.” 

“And if Eren comes up to me?” 

“I’ll give you a big kiss.” 

“Ew. Don’t do that.” 

“I love it when you act disgusted by me.” 

You snicker as the elevator rings and the door swings open. You’re immediately flooded with a mound of flashing lights as Ricky grabs your hand and drags you through the crowd into the fresh air. And it only gets worse outside because not only are the cameras outside bigger, but the reporters are louder. 

Are you and Ricky official? 

Eren and Hyla are rumored to be dating. Do you have any comments on that, Y/N? 

Can you tell us anything about your upcoming record, Ribbons? 

Ricky ducks your head into the car first before sliding in himself, tapping on the seat ahead of him as the car speeds off. You let go of Ricky’s hand, wiping the sweat against your dress, immediately freezing when you remember you’re supposed to return it at the end of the night. 

“Now was that so bad?” Ricky asks, giving you a winning smile. 

“Literally, yes! I wasn’t expecting them to be in the lobby.” 

“Cmon, you nailed it. I was there, wasn’t I?” 

“Quit trying to flirt, Ricky. You suck at it.” you grumble, which he laughs at. 

The car comes to a screeching halt and you give Ricky a weary smile as he walks out first, making it a point to open the door for you on the other side. You wrap your arm around his as you both walk the carpet, giving glimmering smiles every time you walk a few paces. 

You make mental notes of those standing on the steps behind you and you catch sight of them. Eren and Hyla, in the center of the carpet. Eren’s lifting his hand to twirl her in the middle, with consecutive clicks from the cameras. And you can see Sukuna right behind them, pretending to gag with Maki and probably ruining all the picutres.

You smile, making it a point to sit with Sukuna later because he’s so wildly unserious that it’s probably the only thing you could tolerate on a day like this. And it would really piss off Eren.

Mikasa and Jean are smiling at you from behind the ropes, Mikasa giving you a sweet smile and mouthing that you look great. She points at a spot towards the left and you nod, signaling that you’ll meet her there after. 

Out of the periphery of your eye, you catch sight of it. The giant cat in the middle of the runway. You tap Ricky on the shoulder, pointing it out to him. 

“Oh god.” 

“At the Met Gala? That’s so unserious.” you respond. 

“Ten bucks it’s Gojo.” 

“That’s such a lame bet. I know for a fact that’s Gojo. He’s the only type of dumbass to show up to the Met Gala dressed up as a big white cat with blue eyes.” 

You both lean closer together, making a point to make sure the paparazzi are taking pictures of you two all close to each other. The head of the cat pops off and surely enough, a very excited Satoru Gojo is now running in circles around in the middle of the carpet. And blocking every girl standing on the side.

You don’t miss Geto standing ten paces behind with Shoko, the two of them very loudly declaring that they, in fact, do not know or associate with that man.

“You owe me ten bucks.” 

“I never agreed to that, Ricky.” 

Ricky leans forward and plants a warm kiss on your cheek, earning a nice symphony of cooing from the photographers on the other side. 

“Oh?” 

“We both got it right. So we both get a reward.” he responds, tapping his left cheek. 

You roll your eyes as you stand on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and consequently wipe your glittery lip gloss off his face after. You give the cameras a smile and wrap your arm around his again as you walk farther down the carpet towards the interviewers. 

“Y/N. You look gorgeous!” 

“Thank you! So do you.” 

“Is there anything you can tell us about your third upcoming album, Ribbons? What’s your favorite track on the album?” 

“Thank you for asking! I think Ribbons is a mix of a lot of feelings I’ve had lately - specifically good, warm, and positive feelings. I-I think that being negative is something that’s really easy to do, especially when you’re in my position, but I try to keep my music feeling like sunshine on a nice day, because who likes to focus on the bad when you can just be the good. My favorite track on the album is seven, a song that I’ll be performing inside later today with one of my best, best friends who I wrote it with.” 

“That’s sweet. Are any of these positive feelings a consequence of your new beau, Ricky James?” 

And right on cue, Ricky’s on your side, tilted eyes glimmering in the camera. 

“I know for a fact they are. She loves to write songs about me.” 

“That’s a bold statement coming from you, Ricky.” you respond. 

“I’m a bold guy.” Ricky responds, giving you a wink. 

“Speaking of writing songs, Y/N. How do you feel about songs being written about you? Songs like Girlfriend?” 

The reporter looks way too excited at this part now. You look at Ricky before answering, who gives you a subtle nod. The answer you practiced with Sareen and Danny. 

“I think it’s flattering.” 

“Really?” 

Ricky slides his hand around your waist and smiles, finishing off the rest of the answer for you. 

“Oh, it’s totally flattering. I mean, I’d be really intimidated if I was comparing myself to someone like Y/N here too. She’s quite literally at the top of her game, in every sense, and it’s easy to feel less than when you’re comparing yourself to a future triple threat. So we get the thought process behind it.” 

“Ricky.” 

“It’s true, Y/N. Personally, I think they should pick London Boy from her discography as the song selection. But that’s just me.” 

You smile at each other as you give the interviewer a polite nod, giving each other a thumbs up as you walk around the floor. You finally get to stop near Jean and Mikasa, who are very obviously already wine drunk, from the way their cheeks are tinted pink. 

“Wow, Jean. It hasn’t even been two hours yet.” you respond, placing your hand flat against his cheek to see how much his skin is burning. 

“I hate this type of shit.” Jean responds, grumbling. 

“Jean. How drunk are you? Don’t tell me you’re imagining cats walking around are you?” you ask, feigning concern. 

“Huh? That cat isn’t real?” 

“You’re actually seeing cats?!” Mikasa asks, catching on. 

“THERE’S A REAL CAT HERE, MIKA. LOOK.” Jean says, pointing at Satoru who is now lying face down on the red carpet. 

"Jean."

"Y/N. MIKASA. I'M SO SERIOUS I SWEAR THERE'S A REAL CAT. IT TALKED TO ME EARLIER. IT TOLD ME I SHOULD HAVE DRESSED UP AS A HORSE WITH IT."

“Oh, sweetheart. We should go inside, you’ve had too much. You always do this, Jean.” Mikasa says, shaking her head as she leads him in. Mikasa turns her head over her shoulder and gives you a wink, before she walks straight into the venue. 

Geto and Shoko come up to your side after they catch you staring at Gojo - who's now doing the worm in his cat suit on the floor - as they both give you polite hugs. The three of you stand against the wall to watch him take the spotlight away from anyone who was hoping to have it. 

“Can you believe you’re married to that guy?” you ask Geto. 

“Please don’t remind me. It pains me everyday.” 

“He wore the cathead to my house the first day he got it. I was hosting a vigil for one of my neighbors.” Shoko states, placing a cigarette between her teeth. 

You snort at the thought of Gojo, in his fully exuberant energy, trotting into a room of people mourning with the cat head on.

Megumi and Yuuta join the group of you as you now watch Yuuji - whose actually dressed in a nicely styled suit - have a dance off with Cat Gojo on the red carpet. 

You nudge Megumi in the side. 

“Can you believe you’re dating that guy?” 

“We’re breaking up.” Megumi responds, earning a laugh from the group. 

“I can’t tell what’s worse. The fact that they’re dance battling at the Met Gala or that Yuuji is horrendously losing to Gojo wearing a twelve pound cat-suit.” 

“Yuuji losing.” you all respond in unison. 

“I think Cat Gojo is going to haunt me in my dreams.” you respond. 

“Get this, Y/N. It’s not Cat Gojo. It’s Catoru.” Yuuta responds. 

“Don’t tell me he trademarked it already.” 

“He did.” they all respond in unison. 

"Geto. Shoko. When you burn that thing in the flames of hell, I want a video." you state.

"That's a promise, kid." Geto responds, with Shoko giving an affirmative nod.

You turn to your left to find Ricky standing at your side, with his arm wrapped around John. Historia’s ex-boyfriend. You give the group of them a polite nod as you walk away and join Ricky at your side. 

“Y/N. This is my friend, John. He’s been looking forward to meeting you.” 

“Hi. Y/N.” you respond, making every effort to emphasize the flatness in your voice. 

“John. Nice to meet you.” he responds, holding his hand out which you refuse to touch. 

“Play any chess games lately?” you ask, making a pointed reference to Historia’s song. 

He glares and you watch the smile on Ricky’s face drop. You give your best, sickly sweet smile as you wait for a response. 

“That’s right. You acted in Attack on Titan so you must be friends with Historia.” 

“Very good friends.” you respond. 

“Okay John, we’re going to go in. I’ll see you in a sec, yeah?” Ricky responds, hands increasingly hard on your biceps as he drags you a few paces away. 

“Ouch, Ricky. Get off.” 

He’s leaning close to you, whispering in your ear earlier like you two were when Satoru came in, except this is nowhere near as fun as last time. 

“What’s your problem?” 

“What’s yours? He’s not a good guy, Ricky.” 

“I’ve made every effort to be friends with your friends. You could and should be doing the same for me, Y/N.” 

“And I will. For your friends who aren’t groomers, Ricky.” 

Ricky glares at you before giving you a smile and pressing a kiss to your forehead with the paparazzi so close, before dragging you into the venue with him. You settle into your seat next to Ricky, craning your neck to see where the rest of your friends are sitting, all the way on the other side of the room. 

You turn to the girl sitting next to you and whisper in her ear. 

“Hi. I’m Y/N.” 

“I-I know who you are. I’m a big fan.” 

“I’m really sorry to ask you this then. But you see that guy right there, pink hair, those two little scars near his eyes. Could you go and switch seats with him? He’s sitting in between Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuta Okkotsu, so I can at least promise it’s a better seat than this one.” 

She looks over and gives you an affirmative nod. You squeeze her shoulder as you watch her stomp over, Sukuna turn back to give you a questioning look, before letting the girl take his seat and striding over to sit next to you with two cups in his hands. 

He sits on the chair to your left, making it a point to spread his legs as far as he can on his chair, and glare at Ricky as he sits down. 

“What do you want, doll?” 

“Nothing. I got bored.” 

He shrugs as he places the second cup in front of you, which you pick up. And then immediately spit back up, because it’s just straight vodka. 

“Shit. My bad, doll. That’s mine.” 

“You’re drinking straight vodka? No chaser?” you ask. 

“Imagine doing this shit sober. I’d drive myself half insane.” he murmurs. 

You switch the cups and drink yours again, pleasantly surprised by a warm, sweet latte. 

“Sukuna. How’d you know?” you ask. 

“Eren told me.” 

You look over at him, giving him your best glare. 

“As if you’d talk to Eren.” you snort, craning your neck to find him on his phone, next to Hyla’s who is fixing her hair. 

“We talk. It’s just not pleasant.” 

“Yeah. My preferred coffee order is just so horrible to talk about.” 

“You wouldn’t believe it. Poor guy mopes about you so much it even makes me depressed.” 

Ricky taps aggressively on your shoulder, leaning over into your space.

“I’m going to go sit with John.” Ricky states, angrily. 

“Okay?” you respond. 

“Okay? That’s it, Y/N?” 

“Do you need a formal, written invitation? Or does she need to hold your hand and walk you there so you don’t get lost?” Sukuna responds, glaring at him. 

Ricky gets irritated at Sukuna’s response and storms off, which just has Sukuna moving his chair so that you can both prop your legs up on it. You’re both switching off on sharing your drinks - mixing Sukuna’s alcohol with your latte and watching all the performances. 

“Are you performing?” Sukuna asks. 

“Yeah. With Marco, right before Eren.” 

“Real cute. Is it that same fluff shit you always write?” 

You smack him hard on the shoulder. 

“Asshole. That fluff shit is Multi-Platinum, dumbass.” 

“I get that. But I’m saying, you should write something more serious than that. Instead of penting up all that rage in your forehead, you should write it in a song. Quit letting real stupid girls call you stupid in songs.” 

“I can’t. My record doesn’t really like the idea of that.” you respond. 

“So? You’re the artist and it’s your music. Write whatever you want. Don’t be a chickenshit.” 

“It’s not that simple, Sukuna.” 

“No. It literally is. You’re just chicken.” 

“It’s not about chicken, Sukuna. My record was the one who took a chance on me and to some extent, I have to follow that. And they’ve made me Multi-Platinum so far so who am I to not listen to them?” 

“God. You’re pathetic.” 

“And you’re an asshole, Sukuna.” 

“Do you want to kiss now?” 

You reach forward to smack his face, which elicits a laugh from him. 

“You never change, do you Sukuna?” 

“Best thing about me, doll. You should learn to piss people off like I do. It’ll actually relieve some of that tension. And flirting is good for your health.” 

“We can’t all afford to be feather rustlers like you.” 

“You could. I’m sure people would eat it up - the whole sweet girl saying her mind type thing. I’ll give you lessons on how to talk your shit sometime instead of letting idiots like that do it for you.” 

He points over at Ricky, whose glaring bullets at the two of you. You give him a gesture, which he completely ignores as he turns over to whisper in John’s ear. 

“Out of all guys, you had to pick that one? When you tweeted that you were charged with murder, I thought you were being serious and got really excited for a second.” 

“Danny and Sareen picked him. That’s not my fault.” 

You feel a tap on your shoulder and see the usher, signaling that it’s time for you to perform. You nod and turn to Sukuna, who's already getting up from the chair. He presses a kiss to your cheek before you walk off to the other side where Marco’s waiting. 

--

Eren’s sitting towards the end of the bench, hands pressed under his legs, when he watches you take the stage with Marco, a glittering smile on your face.

And in your billowing, white dress, there’s only one thing Eren can focus on. The fish tattoo, right on display. He instinctively reaches for his own, hidden under the fabric of his clothes, and thinks about how your sweet, flowery smell was always overwhelming, even in a disgusting tattoo parlor. 

And when Eren catches sight of Marco at the piano, Eren knows you’re a temptress to everyone and not just him. Exhibit A? You convinced Marco to sing in public with you. 

“Hi everyone. My name is Y/N.” 

Everyone breaks into a loud applause and Eren thinks that the wolf-whistling in the corner is Mikasa, who he’s convinced is shit-faced by the way her cheeks are glowing pink. 

“Thank you. Um, can we just take a minute to give a second round of applause to my sunshine boy, Marco, here? He’s not a big singer and I’ve all but forced him to do this with me, so let’s all give him some love.” 

The crowd claps again and Eren knows for a fact that the wolf-whistling this time is Jean, who is actually plastered. 

“This song is off my new album, called Ribbons, and it’s called seven. The idea of this song kind of came up randomly. I told Marco that it was kind of sad that I don’t have any of the childhood friends I did when I was a kid anymore. And Marco just responded by saying, ‘what do you mean, we’ve been friends since we were seven?’ And long story short, I jumbled out a nice mess of lyrics with Marco and Armin produced it after that and the song was finished. We hope you like it!” 

Marco starts playing a soft piano tune, accompanied by your light strumming on the guitar, and some part of it is so familiar, so you that it makes Eren’s heart ache. Not that Eren’s a big hater of your new, more pop songs like London Boy, but Eren’s always enjoyed your soulful, soft songs like this more.

They remind him of the soft parts of him that you only shared with him, when you used to be next him when he slept at night. 

Y/N:  Please picture me In the trees I hit my peak at seven feet In the swing Over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things?

Eren fights the urge to snort. Of course, there’s still beautiful things. You’re standing right there.

And Eren knows he’s way too sensitive for this because hearing your soft, echoing voice when he’s about to sing a song about the last time he kissed you has him pushing his face into the table. Because there are tears in his eyes. 

Y/N:  Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you

Marco:  Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

When you both finish, Eren watches you give Marco a big hug and a kiss on the cheek as you both walk off together. And then Eren’s trailing up to the stage where Historia’s waiting, the orchestral suite setting up their instruments and he feels his hands shaking at his sides. Historia gives him a smile, which he appreciates as he takes the front stand.

He hates it up here. He knows that flowery scent in the air is you. He manifested it by thinking about it and now it's suffocating him.

You lean against the wall with Marco, hands linked together, as you watch Eren readjust the microphone to his height and Historia sit at the piano. You make a fleeting second of eye contact with her and give her a smile, which she halfheartedly returns.

Eren’s hair is shorter, he’s cut it from the last time you’ve seen him. And he looks kind of tired, though you’re sure you look no better. 

“My name is Eren Jaeger. This is my new song, Promise, that I co-composed and wrote with my friend, Historia.”

You lean your head against Marco’s shoulder, who is giving you a warm squeeze on the shoulder, as you listen. 

I made a promise To distance myself Took a flight, through aurora skies Honestly, I didn't think about How we didn't say goodbye Just see you very soon

You pinch your eyes shut as you feel the breath constrict in your throat and tears warm in your eyes. 

“You okay?” 

“It’s Eren. Of course, I’m not okay.” you whisper. 

No matter how long I resist temptation  I always lose  It hurts to be something  It’s worse to be nothing with you I’ve done the math  There’s no solution  We’ll never last Why can’t I let go of this? 

As Eren goes on and on, that soft voice that’s lulled you to sleep hundreds of time is haunting you. And Marco’s reflexes to wipe your tears away fast are the only reason that people don’t catch on.

When Eren finishes, his green eyes meet yours and he gives you a painstakingly long look, before walking away. 

You don’t see him again that night. Or for a while. You figure it's better that way. Being in the same room but not talking is like nails on a chalkboard.

--

You lean over the counter, scrolling through the set of pictures Ricky just took, as you wait for the timer on your computer to count down.

Ricky circles his arm around your shoulder, as you both watch the seconds on the timer run out and the little display of confetti go around the screen. 

You refresh the tab on your Apple Music and you see it - your name and album cover displayed in bright colors right at the top banner. 

“How does it feel?” Ricky asks, watching you refresh your Spotify on your phone and watch the songs turn from grey to white, meaning they're now able to be played. 

“Good. I hope Historia calls me after she realizes that dorothea is about her.” you murmur, the notifications on your phone buzzing from Reiner, Levi, and Mikasa. You open Levi's first.

levi: We love the record, kid.

you: it's been out for five seconds.

levi: Just shut up and take the compliment, sometimes.

you: I love you, levi. give kisses to hange. i'll call you guys tomorrow.

“She will. Just relax.” Ricky states, as he watches you push up on the counter, legs dangling in the air after putting your phone down.

He reaches for the lowest drawer, pulling out a dark black box and placing it flat in the palm of your hand. 

“What’s this?” 

“A gift, before you go on tour. And I wanted to ask you something.” 

You nod, encouraging him to go on, as you look at the bracelet - a chain-linked, chunky silver bracelet with a heart charm right in the middle. 

“That’s custom made. From Tiffany, because it’s your favorite right?” 

“Yeah. Thank you, I really appreciate it.” 

“Well, I’m really proud of you. Ribbons is a great record and I’m sure you and I will be competing for Record of the Year in a few months.” 

You smile as Ricky leans closer, hands on both of your sides of the counter. 

“I think you’re really great. And-and I know we’ve been pretending but some part of this became really real for me and I think it did for you too. So I think we should quit playing around and do this for real.” 

You feel your throat dry as Ricky smiles at you, so excited and earnest, that you almost feel bad. For how you’re going to shoot him down. 

“Ricky. Oh. Um. Listen. You’re really great. I-I really like you. But I-I don’t know if I can do that right now.” you respond. 

“That’s okay. I don’t expect anything from you and I’m willing to be patient and all that. We’ll figure it out.” he responds, yanking the chain out of the box and reaching forward to secure it around your hand. 

“Listen. I-I don’t know if it’s all that. It’s just, I don’t. I like you Ricky but not like that. I just can’t do that right now.” 

Ricky leans back in confusion, dragging the necklace off your hand as you give him your most sincere smile. And you can’t help but feel bad for not liking him back. When he’s helped you out more times than you can count, with red carpets and defending you when he didn’t have to. 

But you can't help these sort of things.

“Listen. I-I can go home. I’ll take the trash and then leave so you can be alone, yeah?” 

“Okay. I appreciate that. Thank you for being honest.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Of course. And thank you for taking it well, I still appreciate what you’ve done and have a lot of love for you.” you respond, squeezing his shoulder as you walk past. 

You take the half filled bag of trash and walk out to the garage to swing the door open. There’s a decent amount of rain pouring down and you quickly scamper out admist it. You throw the bag over your shoulder and quickly run over to the chute to throw it down before running down to the door. 

Except when you reach for the handle, it doesn’t pull down. You jam it down, more aggressively this time as the heavy drops start matting your hair to your forehead. Giving up on the door, you run to the other side and rap your knuckles against the window, where Ricky’s back is still turned. 

He turns around and gives you a look, half opening the window. 

“Hey. Sorry, I accidentally locked the door on the way out.” 

“That wasn’t an accident. That was me.” Ricky responds, glaring at you. 

“Huh?” 

“That was me.” he responds, again. 

“Listen, I can’t really hear you and it’s really cold outside. Can you just let me in?” you ask. 

“Sorry, Y/N. I really like you but I just don’t know if I can do that right now.”

"Ricky."

He closes off the window and walks away all together. 

You can feel the panic setting in your chest - at the fact that you’re standing in the pouring rain in Seattle and you don’t know where to go. And that Ricky, nice and sweet Ricky, just locked you out.

You hunch over on your knees, yanking your phone out of your pocket to call Mikasa. She picks up on the first call and you can hear her and Jean screaming through the speaker. 

“TOP TEN ON THE CHARTS I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT.” they both scream, the sentence going over you’re head. 

“Mika. Mika, wait.” you whisper, the tears starting to fill your eyes. 

You’re thrown off by the screeching of tires and doors closing and you march over to Ricky’s side door. You lightly crack it open and spot seven paparazzi cars, parked straight on Ricky’s porch. 

Meaning. Not only did Ricky lock you out of his house in the pouring rain but he made sure to call the paparazzi so they can catch you the first chance he got. You quickly shut the door and run to the backside of the house, into the back streets by Ricky’s neighborhood. And the panic's starting to make your legs shake.

“Mika. You’re not still in Seattle, are you?” you ask, the panic laced in your voice. 

“No, babe. We’re in Tampa right now for Armin and Annie’s thing. We left a few days ago.” 

“Do you know anyone who is? This is urgent, Mika.” 

You hear Mikasa murmuring over the phone and suddenly Jean’s on the line, his voice more firm and collected than Mikasa’s. You can suddenly hear her panicking in the background, talking to a third voice you can’t identify. 

“Marco says your options are Eren or Historia. They’re both still in Seattle, though I think Eren’s closer to where you are. Call us when you’re safe. Immediately, Y/N.” Jean says. 

“Okay.” 

You can hear the sound of raised voices from the direction you came and you quickly hunch to the side. You try your best to wipe the wetness of your phone as you scroll for Eren’s contact and dial. 

He picks up on the first ring.

“Y/N?” he asks, voice raspy like he was sleeping. 

And at the sound of his voice, months after the fact, when you’re soaked to the bone in the rain, you can’t help but cry. 

“Eren?” you ask, voice breaking. 

“Y/N. What is it?” he asks, voice suddenly louder. 

“I need your help.”

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No. No, I'm not hurt, but I could be? I don't know, Eren I-"  

“Say the word. What-what is it? I-I’m there. Just tell me what you need me to do, love."  

“I need you to come get me, Eren.” 

“I’m coming. Stay exactly where you are and on the line with me.”

--

--

next part linked here

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[deanbrainrotwritings]

— ALL I WANNA DO

SUMMARY : aka. part 2 of jump on into the fire. in which she finally makes a decision about ben’s previous offer to start a family together.

PAIRING : soldier boy x supe!reader (f)

CHARACTERS : billy butcher, hughie campbell

WARNINGS : nsfw (18+), smut, mutual masturbation, cum play, dacryphilia (Ben, *said scoldingly*), angst

WORD COUNT : 5.9k

A/N : title from splashh song. daydreaming is so fun, this is the birth of my imagination as i watched the boys. also, i chose the reader’s super name to be ‘guardian’ bc I play too much destiny 😔. edited this to be part two of jump on into the fire Xx

To say things were awkward and tense between her and Soldier Boy was an understatement. Even the rest of the team could feel the tension between them, but since Y/N tried to be as discreet as possible about their relationship, they chopped it up to her being upset at him. Especially after the events at Herogasm. 

She could have handled the situation better, but the implication that he liked her, as in enough to have kids with her, set alarms off in her head. He put her on the spot and she wasn’t ready for that for multiple reasons. 

For one, she didn’t always buy that pathetic, wide-eyed look he’d give them when he was talking about his mistakes, because he didn’t really feel all that bad about it. He’s a soldier, those were just collateral damage, casualties that occurred as he did his job, and so it doesn’t actually matter to him, and it probably never will. The problem wasn’t that he was evil, because he wasn’t, that was all Homelander. The problem was that Ben simply didn’t care. He’s a soldier meant to be ordered around, it didn't matter if he was right or wrong. 

 That night, just for a few seconds, she stopped seeing him that way. He said something sweet and instead of laughing it off or saying ‘shut up’, she actually liked the idea of being his, of starting a family. 

That realisation was terrifying. 

What would the rest of the team say? Even without MM, Annie, Frenchie, or Kimiko around, she could imagine their faces if they ever found out that she and Ben had a complicated relationship. Especially MM, and she empathised with him the most. She felt like she was betraying them, for what? A crush?

“You alright, Guardian?” Butcher asked, standing next to her. He was trying to analyse her, trying to get into her head and why she was now staring off past the glass door. She looked at him, eyes flashing up to his face and then to his posture, curiously tilting her head to the side at the sudden interest he had in her spaciness. 

“Yeah, why?” She asked, looking away from him to stare out the door again, the nice view from the Legend’s place. She knew he’d probably, finally, bring up the awkwardness between her and Ben, his sudden sour mood, and the way he hadn’t tried to make a move on her since that night. Or maybe Butcher was going to sweep it under the rug like he seemed to be doing these days, focusing mainly on the fact that both her and Ben were still getting the job done properly. At least she was. 

Ben seemed to have a lot of other stuff going on and what had happened at Herogasm made it clear that he wasn’t as okay or as in control  as he liked to pretend he was. She was there after all, when Ben had confessed to Hughie that he’d blacked out, with those wet, puppy-dog eyes, claiming to be a good guy. 

He was a bully, but more than anything, Ben was truly pathetic. He wanted to be the best, to stay at the top, to prove he was worth more than anyone else, and he hated it when anyone threatened that. It’s why he was on board with ending Homelander. It’s why he treated everyone around him like complete shit, especially if he felt they were trying to rise above him. 

“Soldier Boy don’t want you to come,” he said bluntly, gazing at her without much of a fuck about how she’ll react. She quickly turned to look at him, confused and irritated as soon as those words came out of his mouth. 

“What the fuck?” She glared at him, but mostly, she was pissed at Ben. Could he not tell her that himself? Then Butcher had the audacity to chuckle at her reaction and she narrowed his eyes. He only raised his hands with a smirk on his face when she shoved him for laughing. “Assholes!” She didn’t wait for him to say anything, just rolled her eyes and started to walk angrily to where Ben was now changing into his uniform. 

When she slammed the door open, the doorknob cracked a hole into the wall and she could hear the Legend shout asking what the noise was but she couldn’t give two fucks about answering. Ben turned around to look at her, his face was serious at first when he zipped up the front of his suit, but then he froze when he saw her fuming.

“Why the fuck are you benching me?” She heard some shuffling by the door and she glared at Hughie and Butcher who were being nosy, only catching Hughie scrambling away and pulling Butcher with him. 

“I’m not benching you,” Ben started, turning away from her unnecessarily to cover his chest with the heavy armour piece. “I’m trying to keep you safe.” 

“I’ve been doing this alone for years. I don’t need you to protect me.” She narrowed her eyes at his back, staring at him as he practically ignored her. This was probably the longest conversation they’ve both had since that night, but the room was still thick with awkward and even sexual tension that set her skin on fire. “I’m going, fuck you if you don’t like it,” she said firmly after a few minutes of silence. 

“The fuck you are,” he replied angrily, finally turning around to face her. 

She hated herself, the way her body was already reacting to his hard stare. With his stupid green eyes practically boring into her, trying to force her to listen to him rather than get in the way of his focus. Because he knew he’d be too busy worrying about her getting mind-fucked to actually focus on anything. He could get Butcher and Hughie killed, but actually he didn’t give a shit about them, he could get her killed. 

He couldn’t tell her that. If he did, she’d push him further away than she already had. To think he fucked up the one good thing he saw coming out of this shit mission, the one good thing in his entire miserable and disappointing life. He wanted her so bad and he wished he could take back what he said so things weren’t awkward between them. Because having her in any way that he could get her was better than this, but it was already out there. The implication of what he really wanted from her. 

He couldn’t force her to want it. He couldn’t force her to like him. Hell, he didn’t even like himself. He was a fucking disappointment, so why would she think he was more than that? He was a fool and she was better than him. She didn’t sign up to work for Vought, she didn’t wear some stupid fucking suit for a slut, or get paid for saving the lives of the people in her city. She doesn’t give a shit about fame. She’s just her. 

Y/N L/N, with a normal, boring job, and a secret life living up to the name her city gave her, the Guardian. 

“Give me one good reason why it’s too dangerous for me to go.” She crossed her arms over her chest and waited expectantly for him to give her something. She knew he’d have way too many things to list and that each one would mean nothing to her. So, all he did was glare at her, cursing softly under his breath knowing he wasn’t going to win this argument, but fuck if it didn’t make him like her more.

It hadn’t gone as bad as Ben had thought it would go. Y/N didn’t get injured or even have to fight at all. Whether he’d liked it or not, he has Hughie to thank for that. There was no struggle or any big fight that broke out when they found Mindstorm with Hughie and Butcher, who was now awake. 

Dan was distracted with Hughie and from a distance and at an angle, Ben threw his knife at Dan’s eye, preventing him from using his abilities on them. Y/N had been shocked, almost as much as Hughie when he’d bashed his head in with his shield, but the news he’d gotten from Mindstorm was something that left him feeling conflicted and angry, but most of all completely disappointed after calling Homelander. 

“Everything good?” He heard Y/N speak up from the doorway. He forced himself to smile at her, not because he didn’t want to see her and wanted her to go away, but because he didn’t want to show that anything was wrong. Nothing was wrong anyway, not necessarily, he just didn’t want to believe that Homelander was his son, but it all made sense. Homelander was as disappointing as Ben’s father thought he was. Basically, Homelander was not the son Ben would have liked to have had.

“Yeah,” he responded, eyeing her every move guardedly. She shut the door behind her and looked around the room at first, probably expecting him to have had some granny or a sexworker in the room. He rolled his eyes, but knew she had every reason to think that about him. When she saw no one, she walked closer to him and he straightened up a little since she clearly was here for more than just small talk.

She didn’t seem to be avoiding him anymore, but that didn’t make him feel any better. She practically rejected him that night and made him feel unwanted. He still remembers the sting he felt when she just brushed him off. Earlier, she’d been pissed at him for slapping Hughie, for abandoning Butcher, and for being insensitive about the nun and the priest he’d killed, and he knew probably other things he did made her angry, but she got over it quickly. Despite having seen him lose it on more than one occasion, she always seemed to see straight through him and he hated it. Like right now, she tilted her head to the side slightly and her eyes moved across his face, trying to and succeeding in easily getting a read on him. 

“Liar. You can’t hide that pathetically sad look on your face. You look like a kicked puppy,” she chuckled, looking away to trace random patterns on the surface of the table she leaned against. He narrowed his eyes at her and scoffed, looking away to stop her from doing that again, even though he missed hearing her and seeing her. “You’re not gonna tell me what Mindstorm said to you?” She bit her lip, watching his reaction to her question. 

“Stop doing that,” he warned, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth thoughtfully. He looked up at her again, really took her in because he missed her despite what she might think about him and despite the irritation she made him feel when she tried to get him to open up or talk about his feelings like he was some sissy. He couldn’t help his next actions, the expression on her face was so gentle and troubled that he found he’d somehow closed the distance between them and thoughtlessly pulled her into a kiss to ease all those things from her face. 

He expected her to hit him or push him away, hell, all of those things, but she just stood there for the fleeting moment in which he pressed his lips against hers. When he pulled away, just slightly, he tried to gauge her reaction and saw mostly confusion on her face. He licked his lips and gently held her face, frustrated and needy for her, but all he did was gently brush his thumbs across her warm and soft cheeks. 

“You don’t hate me,” he said quietly. It was the one thing he was sure of at this point. No one really treated him like he was a person. They were scared of him, for good reason, or they just needed his abilities. Not her. She wasn’t scared of him, not always, and she definitely wasn’t using him despite working with Butcher which she met through Maeve. 

His brows were furrowed, just watching her curiously as she gazed at his face, analysing every twitch in his face, every change in expression. Her mouth opened slightly to respond, but she mimicked his face, brows furrowing as she thought about why she just couldn’t hate him the way everyone else did or even why she wasn’t afraid of him. 

To be fair, she didn’t know anything about him except from what she’d seen of him getting tortured. Somehow, that meant more to her than all the people that died while he was doing his job. Somehow, her feelings for him seemed to sprout and bloom despite knowing how MM felt about him. She cared about the team, probably more than they cared about her, and that made Ben angry. They didn’t deserve her and neither did he.

She should have been afraid, she should hate him the way everyone else does, especially with knowing he’s killed dozens of innocent people, with his temper that would drive him to be unnecessarily violent, the toxic masculinity that exuded from him. He was everything she’d hate in a person, but for some unknown reason, she didn’t hate him. She wanted to help him get better and to be there for him every step of the way. As foolish as it sounded, she felt she could fix him or at least soften his personality because so far, she’s learned all the reasons why he is the way he is, and she thinks given the chance, he could actually change. Not that he’d ever let her help him. 

That was why she was so panicked when he’d shown genuine care and interest in her. What if she gave him the chance to be with her? What if she ended up falling for him only to be discarded once he was bored with her? What if he was incapable of changing and he treated her just like he treats everyone else? If he loved the Countess and he treated her the way he did, why would it be any different with her? 

He interrupted her thoughts with another kiss, a gentle and almost sweet kiss that was so unlike him. It was meant to put her at ease and it nearly did, she felt her stomach flutter either nervously or because it made her swoon. She felt how loosely he held her face, giving her an out, and easy escape from being anywhere near him. And even though her mind once again screamed at her to get out, her feet were planted where she stood and she started to kiss him back just as softly. 

HIs beard tickled the skin around her lips, but she didn’t mind. Instead, she had memories of other times she’d felt that when he kissed her, times where he worshipped every inch of her body with his mouth, and had his head buried between her legs. Her heart was beating quickly and roughly in her chest at the feeling of him kissing her so gently, for the first time, it wasn’t rough and careless. His lips moved tenderly and slowly against hers, stealing the breath from the lungs and making her knees weak. 

She’d never been kissed quite like that and she didn’t think Ben even had the capacity to give someone a kiss like that. He was gentle and he wasn’t pressing, but there was still a hint of desperation and need for her that made her cling to the straps on his thin waist. 

His warm hands slowly moved from her face to the hem of her shirt, which he played with contemplatively before simply moving them underneath it. He grasped her hips and tugged her forward until she was pressed tightly against his body with a quiet moan from her being muffled against his mouth. He could feel all of her even when clothed fully, but the soft and flimsy material of her sleepwear only triggered all the memories he had of her own body being trapped beneath his. The way she felt so perfect under his hands, every curve and every dip of her body felt as if it had been sculpted just for his touch. 

He pulled away from her plush lips just to pull her shirt up and off her body. Carefully and deliberately, he stripped her, dragging his hands and mouth along her form to replace every article of clothing removed from her. Her skin started to heat up the longer he took, her body tensed with each teasing touch of his, waves of shivers following every touch, kiss, suck, and bite. And soon, she was standing naked in front of him. Her skin was flushed and she was breathing as heavily as he was. Her eyes just stared up at him, filled with an endless conflict and desire that he understood, but it also hurt more than he’d like to admit.

Still, she was the one who slid her hand to the back of his neck to pull him back down for a searing kiss. Her fingers threading through his hair, keeping him close as he busied himself with taking his suit off with her help. He was impatient with himself, undoing every buckle and loosening every strap, zipping everything down as swiftly as he could until he was as naked as she was. 

This was new for him. He wasn’t in a frenzy to fuck. He took his time, moved slowly, watching her desire for him bloom the longer he took. Suddenly, it hit him that it felt different and new.

He stared down at her, eyes sweeping over the expanse of her face as he slid his hands down her back and he bent his knees to reach the back of her thighs. Looking up at her and the way she looked down at him, it turned him on. Like he was worshipping her. It was short-lived when she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him control of her body. He moved forward with her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist and he kissed her neck and shoulder, nuzzling her sensitive skin and inhaling the clean scent of her skin. 

Her uneven breaths and the little sighs that slipped from her parted lips spurred him on the whole way to the bed he’d claimed as his own. He placed his knees on the soft mattress and carefully dipped her until she let go of him and let herself bounce slightly against the soft sheets. There was a little smile on her face when he gazed down at her, and for once, she wasn’t thinking about what her team would want or how anyone would feel if they saw her with Ben, she focused solely on what she wanted and how she felt. 

At that moment, everything seemed to click. When she reached out for Ben’s face, he leaned down to meet her resting his arm by her head. Her fingers once again tangled in his soft hair when he sealed her lips with his in a purposeful kiss, firm and full of promise before he moved his mouth down to her jaw. His teeth grazed her jawline, sliding down until he bit gently at her pulse point, drawing a gasp and a little moan when he swiped his tongue across the spot and sucked possessively. Her fingers tightened in his hair, her nails pushing into the muscle of his shoulder.

Heat flooded between her legs and she arched her back, his hand sliding up her side and under the curve to hold her in place. She couldn't decide whether to squeeze his legs in attempts to close her own or to open them wider for him. He pretended not to notice that and continued to kiss her neck, his lip lingered on her skin, proprietorial and ravenous as they trailed down her body. He took his time and made sure his mouth had been on every inch of her skin as he moved lower, biting at her collarbones and sucking on the skin above her breasts. 

Little by little, she became more impatient. His plump lips wrapped around one of her nipples, lapping and sucking so her breathing would pick up. He slid his hand up from the arch of her back to tweak her nipple and pinch it between his forefinger and thumb, on the edge of being painful and pleasurable. Her clit throbbed, desperate for him to pick up the pace or give her what she wanted, and she could feel just how wet she was as the air around them hit her core. 

She could have touched herself if she wanted, but she liked the torture, the ache that grew between her legs just waiting and letting him take his time with her body. It was hard to stay in control and she pulled roughly at the soft strands of hair that she clung to in order to stop herself from ruining the fun. Everything felt so sensitive and a million times more delicious, as if induced by drugs, but there was something about him that gave her that high every time. Maybe it was the fact that she’s never quite been fucked or touched like this before.

He’d look up at her every now and then, smirking occasionally at the sight of her with her head tipped back, moaning and squirming impatiently. He gently teased her skin with his nose, trailing his lips down the centre of her stomach, squeezing her sides when she wiggled her hips to get his attention. He smiled and nipped at her hip bones, dragging his bearded mouth across her thighs while avoiding where she clearly needed him. 

Eventually, there was no part of her body that was untouched by his mouth and hands--except for her aching and wet cunt. But when he got to it, he just huffed out a breath over her dripping cunt to watch her squirm and lifted himself back up her body. He pressed a hard kiss to her neck and then kissed her lips, his tongue easily entering her hot mouth. They both moaned into each other’s mouths as he practically devoured her mouth, firm and needy while holding the back of her neck and tilting her head so he could kiss her as hungrily as he wanted.

“You’re so goddamn delicious, doll.” He pulled away from her breathlessly, his lips wet and swollen. He sat back on his legs, enjoying the sight of her looking just as wrecked as he felt. She was flushed and warm and her hungry eyes were slowly dragging over his face and down his body. She licked her lips when she got to his cock, hard and throbbing and leaking at the tip. 

“Ben,” she murmured, a hint of neediness in her voice that made him smirk. Using her elbow to lift herself up, she reached over to wrap her hand around the base of his cock before he could continue to tease her. 

“Shit,” he groaned. His hips bucked into her hand and she slowly started to lift her hand up, thumbing some precum over the soft head, and squeezing all the way down until he let out a strangled moan. 

“Touch me,” she whispered, and even though he detected it being a command more than a plea, he complied. He dragged his hands up the back of her thighs and spread her legs, his hooded green eyes glued on her glistening folds. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart,” he praised, dragging two fingers from her slick entrance to her clit. He lifted the wet fingers to his face and she blushed when he inhaled the scent of her arousal before slipping the two fingers into his mouth with a satisfied moan. “Christ, you taste so good.” He brought his fingers back to her pussy, pushing his two fingers into her entrance, his fingertips curled to rub against her walls everytime he pushed them in and out, going deeper and deeper, slowly, and only going fast when he felt the way she expanded inside. 

“Holy fuck, Ben,” she gasped, her pussy squeezing his fingers and gazing up at him with her pretty glazed eyes. 

Even in her dazed state, she continued to jerk him off with quick, stuttered and uneven tugs. He could feel his own orgasm beginning to form with the way she was looking at him, his stomach tightening when his eyes flickered down to her hand, now wet and coated in his precum. 

She moved her hips eagerly against his hand and only stopped when he flattened a large hand on her stomach, a small cry leaving her lips when he added a third finger into her squelching cunt. “That’s right, baby, cum on my fingers,” he encouraged, lowering his hand to her pelvis to quickly massage her clit with his thumb.

“Shit… Ben,” she hissed, letting her orgasm wash over her, wave after wave of pleasure making her body shake. He groaned softly, shoving his fingers deep into her cunt to brush his fingers against the sensitive spot deep inside over and over until she collapsed onto her back, her hand becoming still on his cock to wrap around his wrist instead. 

“That’s my good girl,” he lauded, slowly slipping his fingers out of her. She murmured his name softly at the praise as he slid his hand up and down her sides comfortingly and stared down at his fingers. They were coated in clear slick and creamy cum that made his mouth water. “Shit, look at that,” he chuckled, licking his lips. He leaned over her, shoving a clean hand to the back of her head to grasp her hair. With a harsh pull, he forced her eyes open so she could watch him lick away her release from his fingers. “Make me cum and I’ll fill you up,” he promised, then shoved two of his saliva-coated fingers into her mouth, thrusting them in and out of her mouth the way he would if it was his cock. 

He scooted closer, close enough so that her thighs were thrown over his and his cockhead brush against her stomach with every quick drag of her hand on his wet cock. He purposely pushed his fingers deeper into her mouth, moaning softly when she gagged momentarily and closed her eyes to blink tears away when he kept shoving them as deep as he could into her throat. 

“No, no, look at me, honey. You’re so fucking pretty when you--oh, fuck,” he rasped, grunting softly in surprise. His cock twitched excitedly as hot tears flowed down her cheeks and she moaned softly when he tightened his grip on her hair. He came with a soft growl of her name, spilling hot and messy on her stomach and breasts, feeling an overwhelming intensity in his orgasm while gazing into her watery eyes. He didn’t know if it was the eye contact, or the way her eyes glazed over with tears with her lashes sticking together that pushed him over the edge, but whatever it was, it made him cum faster than they both expected. 

“Jesus, Ben,” she laughed softly, releasing his now limp cock. He just panted heavily, leaning back on his legs with his head tipped back and his eyes closed. He basked in the aftershocks of the mind-blowing orgasm he just had with his hands on her hips and she licked her lips while wiping away tears from her cheeks and eyes.

He looked back down at her once he recomposed himself, catching her playing with his cum splattered on her chest and in the middle of lifting her fingers into her mouth. She looked at him and snickered when she saw the look on his face as she started to lick at the cum on her fingers, his eyes darkening and his cock hardening all over again. 

 “I can’t get enough of you,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss her roughly. She moaned softly, pleasantly surprised when he rocked his hips against hers, sliding his cock through her folds and over her clit teasingly. He reached between their bodies and lined himself up with her entrance, easily thrusting into her with a snap of his hips. 

He carefully rocked his hips against hers, lifting himself up slightly so they parted from the searing kiss to gaze down at her. Her eyes fluttered open, but she didn’t protest, just slid her hands along the hefty planes of his back, stopping only when she got to his broad shoulders to hold onto them. He stopped suddenly after letting his eyes drift over her face, then he hid his own in her neck and slid his arm under the small of her back.

“Homelander’s my son,” he mumbled against the connection between her neck and shoulder. She froze and her eyes widened when she deciphered what he’d said and slid her hands from his back to push at his shoulders, but he didn’t budge. “That’s what Mindstorm told me,” he added quietly.

“What the fuck, Ben?” She grumbled, yanking his hair in attempts to get him off her, but he just growled and swivelled his hips defiantly. “You’re gonna tell me that now?” She protested and he gave an unhumourous nod into her neck, lifting himself up just to kiss her to distract her from what he’d blurted out. She kissed him back begrudgingly with her eyes open.

“I knew you’d react this way,” he said softly against her lips. She bit his lip roughly and he hissed, pulling away to glare at her and was met with a fierce glare from her. 

“Yeah, fuck you,” she muttered, squirming angrily in attempts to get away from him. She felt used, as if he’d hide that from her just to get a quick fuck. 

“Please,” he whispered, pulling out when he realised she wasn’t giving him a chance to explain himself. 

“Please what?” She spat, shoving him away to think about what he just revealed. Out of everyone she’s ever met, Homelander was someone she truly despised. He was an utter piece of shit and he had a long list of vile traits that she despised in people, supe or not. He was a fucking child and he was out of control, no one ever having told him ‘no’ his whole life. “What the fuck do you want from me?” She asked, moving away to pace around the room or even to leave Ben the same way she had before.

“You know what I want,” he retorted, suddenly it wasn’t about Homelander. Fear of being left alone again made Ben grab her arm to stop her from getting out of bed. “You’re not fucking stupid, sweetheart,” he reminded, gently tugging her back to him. She didn’t budge, but she looked over at him when he let her go. She caught a glimpse of the resignation on his face, the vulnerability she’d rarely seen on his face, before he could mask it. She sighed in defeat, deciding to hear him out after all.

“Ben…” She sat on the bed, facing him and reached out to brush his hair away from his face. He moved away from her touch, sitting at the edge of the bed with his back to her. She dropped her hand in her lap and watched him, her eyes drifting to the large window in front of him that let her see what he could no longer hide from her.

“If you’re not gonna say what I wanna hear, don’t say anything and get out,” he said harshly, his shoulders slumped and overall, he looked defeated. She’d expected him to lash out or to hear how he didn’t want to kill Homelander, but it was probably worse to see him like this.

“Ben, it won’t work out.” She said it softly, but it hurt him like a million knives in the chest. In reality, the hurt he felt hearing her say that didn’t compare to the forty years of torture he was put through in Russia. 

“It could work… I could make it work,” he said quietly, “when we’re done with Black Noir and Homelander, and I will kill him… It’ll just be you and me, Y/N. Maybe… we can start a family somewhere else, far away from all this bullshit.” He looked over his shoulder slightly just to read her face when she remained quiet. 

She chewed on her lip, frowning as she considered his words. He was still willing to kill Homelander, his son. That should be worth something. He actually wanted something normal when he was done with this and she was more surprised than doubtful of his words. He spoke so softly, as if he’d had this plan all his life and finally found someone who could fill in the faceless mother of the children he wanted in his fantasy. He was willing to retire and he wanted that with her.

After spending years being an abusive and toxic asshole, then wasting decades more of his life being tortured, it made sense to her that he just wanted to cherish the rest of his time doing shit he’s always wanted rather than trying to prove he was worth something. In many ways, being a father could fulfil that need to prove he wasn’t a complete disappointment. After he’d been told that so much by his father, he was incapable of seeing himself as anything but a disappointment. This was his way out and she could easily open that door up for him.

Or she could slam that door in his face like a coward. She could continue to be too afraid to be hated by a team that didn’t give two fucks about her. Why she prioritised their opinions on her puzzled her as much as Ben being vulnerable right now. 

“Get out,” he muttered, staring at her with his face hard. She blinked and focused on him again, her mouth fell open to say something, but he turned away and was sitting straight. The walls he’d let down were up again, probably stronger than ever before, and she made her way over to him on her knees, sliding her hand up his neck to cup his chin and tilt his head back so he’d look up at her. 

He stared at her with steely eyes, but she kissed him, painfully squeezing his chin until he moaned and opened his mouth to let her tongue slip past his lips. He reached up to wrap his fingers around her wrist, silently telling her to loosen her grip and she did, kissing him firmly, saying everything she couldn’t say with the heated kiss. He melted into her, turning slowly until she had to pull away to accommodate the new position he was kissing her in. 

“I’m not gonna let you push me around and tell me what to do,” she murmured between kisses, moving up the bed with him until her head was settled against the fluffy pillows. 

“I won’t do that,” he promised, taking his soft cock in his hand and jerking it until he was stiff and ready again.

“There’s a lot more,” she murmured distractedly. 

“I can imagine,” he laughed softly, gently pushing himself into her, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

➥ your sword versus my dagger

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BnHA Chapter 410: Kacchan Fights a Baby

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was born and then he grew up and murdered the Demon Lord.

Today on BnHA: Kacchan fights a baby. Tomura and Deku finally remember that they were supposed to have been fighting too this entire time, and get on with that once again. Tomura is all, “[literally just reaches out and grabs Deku’s face because Deku’s main character powers suddenly abandoned him in a fit of confusion].” Deku is all, “[chops off Tomura’s fingers which is somehow not even in the top twenty of violent things that have happened in this series in just the last five chapters].” Tomura is all “joke’s on you I still got your quirk :D” and fuck me he actually stole Danger Sense, what the fuck.

logically I knew AFO still had to be alive somehow because he’s too big of a villain to go out that easily without a proper sendoff. but deep in my heart, I’m still secretly disappointed

it just isn’t fair, lol. this guy has died more times than Rasputin and he’s still out here scheming his schemey schemes. when oh when will it end

sir you did not just say you had yet ANOTHER unused trump card up your sleeve??

(ETA: the translation isn’t fully clear here, but I think the trump card he’s referring to is the whole “I’ll just go back inside him and join the part of me that was already in there and we’ll take over Tomura’s body again together” plan that he was trying to pull off. I think. if not though, that’s certainly something worth speculating about.)

well as always the psychology in this series is unironically fascinating! he just wants acknowledgement at the end of the day, huh. just wants some love and attention. too bad he was born in a rat-infested hellscape and learned all the wrong lessons and turned into a crazed omnipotent murderlad

also he really did turn back into a baby sdfsdlkjfl oh no. I need to see Katsuki’s reaction to this immediately

oh my lord

(●__●)

lmao this is so incredibly fucked up

ngl though, this is karma at its finest. he tortured and killed so many people trying to earn everyone’s fear and awe and reverence, only to literally blip out of existence at the end with absolutely nothing to show for it

everyone please enjoy this series of panels of a deeply vexed Bakugou Katsuki picking a fight with this slowly melting evil baby

“you think I care that you’re a baby now. you think I won’t fight a fuckin’ baby. let’s do this you little punk”

also I’m sorry but it’s absolutely ridiculous that the gigantic chest wound Tomura inflicted on him got sewed up so neatly lol. AFO’s not the only one who stubbornly refuses to die no matter what

...

just once, it would be nice if Horikoshi didn’t immediately shred my plot nitpicks to pieces mere seconds after I write them

LMAO

BABY AFO DON’T CARE. BABY AFO WILL THROW HANDS WITH ANYONE ＼(｀0´)／

KACCHAN MY BELOVED FAVE OF ALL TIME, ARE YOU REALLY ABOUT TO LOSE TO A LITERAL FUCKING INFANT

WHAT HAPPENED TO “PERFECT VICTORY” LMAO. MOVING THE GOALPOSTS EVEN AS HIS CONSCIOUSNESS FADES. “EH, CLOSE ENOUGH”

-- OH FOR THE LOVE OF --

me: wow it sure is uncharacteristic of Katsuki to just pass out before he properly wraps up this battle

Horikoshi: oh yeah good point, sure would be a shame if someone... IMMEDIATELY ADDRESSED THAT CONCERN ON THE VERY NEXT PAGE

me: ఠ_ఠ

ldskjflaksdjfkds

fdsfsdkf. “SORRY ABOUT THAT, FOR A MOMENT THERE I ALMOST FORGOT TO BEND THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE TO MY WILL”

holy fucking shit. his body was all “um, just a quick reminder that you’re HORRIBLY WOUNDED and have lost like ten gallons of blood and all of your cells are about to call an emergency meeting to shut this thing down before you get us all killed.” and he was all “WHAT WAS THAT?!” and his body was all “oh my GOD, FUCK, OKAY just forget we said anything”

and meanwhile Baby AFO is just lying there all “(◉⌓◉)”

this six-month-old child is truly and sincerely still trying to kill Kacchan while screeching death threats in high-pitched baby talk

this actually would have killed him too, if he’d succeeded in passing out. all that just to be punk’d by a damn baby

you are actually shitting me right now

at this point I’m genuinely not sure which of them has the more powerful angry toddler energy

oh no ffuffkdsfk

meeeeelting. meeeeeeltiiiiiing!!! oh what a world what a world

jesus Horikoshi I am genuinely speechless

... welp

WAIT NO WAY, REALLY?!?!

?!?!?! WAS IT ACTUALLY THAT SIMPLE THIS WHOLE TIME

-- lkjf

three times. three times in the same fucking chapter. I give up. apparently I’ll literally believe anything this man says. does it feel good, Horikoshi. preying on your readers’ hopeful naivete

yeefuckinghaw lmao

GOOD JOB KACCHAN YOU DEFEATED THE EVIL BABY

awwwww

I actually had a theory about this! well more of a wishlist item, really. I can’t remember if I’ve actually posted about it yet or not. but it’s like. you know how Deku and Kacchan are always being really dramatic about holding hands? wanting to hold hands; not wanting to hold hands; being afraid to hold hands; holding hands via proxy, etc. etc.?

and you know how both Endeavor and All Might have each done their own version of the victory pose that Kacchan is referring to here? with each one using a different hand?

so you see, I was thinking that it might be nice. might be a little poetic and all that. if at the end of the fight, Deku and Kacchan did, in fact, hold hands. and then did the victory pose together. and it became like their iconic hero moment. them standing there together. having accomplished their goal and defeated TomurAFO through teamwork. realizing their shared childhood dream. and sharing that moment of triumph with each other and with the world, ushering in a new era of heroes

anyway yeah. I was thinking that might be a pretty good ending. but it looks like Kacchan maybe really is about to pass out here now, lol, so maybe not? anyways time to finally scroll down

-- okay I literally said awww again out loud

what a fucking nerd. I have never felt more fondness for a character in my life

every damn person watching this on the news better have leaped to their feet and started applauding, goddammit. those motherfuckers better be CHANTING HIS FUCKING NAME. all those nagging reporters better be bombarding his phone with calls. those fuckers who deleted his footage from the Shouto interview better be shamelessly leaving him dozens of voicemails acting like none of that ever happened and presumptuously asking when he can free some time in his schedule to visit their studio again. all the heroes who haven’t hugged him yet better be lining the fuck up. that one guy from the post-kidnapping press conference in chapter 86 better be writing a fifty page letter of apology!!

oh hey it’s a random pre-battle flashback mysteriously taking place in Troy “a few days before the battle” even though I thought they only moved into that place the night before the fight

I love how Katsuki immediately narrows his eyes (I assume. we can’t see for sure but that’s the vibe I get) at Jeanist and has to resist the urge to call the police on him for that pun

so Hadou’s wondering what Jeanist is talking about because they already evacuated the civilians, so what else are they trying to protect. and Edgeshot is all, “well obviously we’ve gotta protect everyone’s future,” which is a nice... rearshadowing?? for him saving Katsuki’s life later on lol

and now Mirko is all “get to the fucking point already.” which, same

so Jeanist says that Tomura is an even bigger problem than AFO, because at least AFO doesn’t want to murder everyone on the entire planet. and he concludes with “he’ll probably try to touch the ground and use his quirk.” which is a conclusion that I have to say wasn’t really worth two pages of flashback buildup for, considering that we all figured that out years ago

I’m guessing this is all just some sort of awkward transition back to Deku’s fight now lol

and now we’re getting two pages of exposition on how long it would theoretically take Tomura’s Decay to spread throughout the city, and then the entire country, yikes

damn. talk about stakes

and now finally back to Deku!!

shoutout to everyone who correctly predicted that Deku was once again talking out of his ass when it came to being out of Gearshifts. we all knew. unlimited supply

wow Tomura way to throw AFO under the bus

the way I recall it, AFO wasn’t the one who failed to kill him back then lol. but go ahead and talk your shit king

DEKU WHAT ARE YOU DOING

holy shit?!?!

like my first thought was “well last time he did this he just tried to steal OFA rather than Decay him, so he’ll probably try that again and it’ll be fine.” only to remember that the AFO inside Tomura is currently permanently(?) out to lunch, and Tomura himself doesn’t give two figs about stealing OFA. so, uhhhh >_>

(ETA: nevermind.)

but then this happened

Deku what the actual fuck

OH MY GOD??!?!

HOLY SHIT

okay. okay, fuck. lemme gather up my thoughts, and then we’ll wrap this up

they’ll never admit it, but you know the other OFA Vestiges secretly resented Shino a tiny bit for being the only one of them to not be gruesomely murdered. bet they all feel guilty for thinking that now

Shino and Banjou also seemed to have this cute little pseudo-rivalry thing going on, so I really feel bad for Banjou now. :/ he looks so horrified in that bottom right panel

gotta admit, I did not see this coming in the slightest. OFA has been this immutable “I do what I want!” quirk for so long that I never thought Tomura or AFO would actually succeed in stealing it, even partially. that shook me to my core

BUT, it’s also really exciting to me because it’s going to make this battle much more interesting if Deku can’t use his get out of jail free card. shit just got way more real and I’m here for it

lastly, so! let me tell you guys my prediction. I still can’t see Tomura being the final villain lol. I just can’t. it feels too anticlimactic. if I’m wrong, I’m wrong, and I’ve certainly botched MANY predictions in the past, but I have not yet learned my lesson from any of it and I will not apologize lol

so here’s what I think. Deku and Tomura battle it out for the next chapter or two, and Tomura snatches up more of Deku’s quirks one by one. we see all of the Vestiges disappearing and the mood gets more and more desperate. eventually we’re down to just Kudou and Yoichi. Deku is panicking, but for some reason Kudou seems even MORE panicked

Kudou/Gearshift eventually gets stolen too, and it looks like this might finally be it for Deku (I have no idea how he’d stop Tomura from Decaying the ground once Blackwhip gets stolen, btw, but maybe Katsuki or someone else interferes in desperation towards the end). but just when it looks like Tomura is finally going to take the last piece of OFA, Deku’s vibes suddenly do a 180, stopping Tomura in his tracks

cut to the OFA Moon Gorgeous Meditation Realm, where Deku and Yoichi are staring at the door -- yes, that door -- in shock. because it’s finally been opened (now that the other Vestiges are no longer there to keep it at bay). and just like that, enter AFO, for the THIRD FUCKING TIME :D :D

tl;dr, HERE’S HOW HORCRUX!DEKU CAN STILL HAPPEN!!! wait where are you all going. wait come back

anyway so wow that was a really bizarre chapter that I truly thoroughly enjoyed, which should probably be a bit concerning. on to the next two week break! (for anyone who’s not aware, Shounen Jump will be on break next week, so yeah.) I’m on chapter 391 now. so close but still so far. the end of the year has gone by too damn fast tbh

[leatherface-kisser]

Can I request headcanons for Drayton, nubbins, chop top, and Bubba with a little sister around 7 years old. I like to imagine she's the exact opposite of them and is very sweet and innocent

Absolutely! Thank you for your request! These were so precious to think about. I did go a little dark in the very end, but there's nothing graphic, it's only implied. Hope that's okay!

Warnings : Murder and Cannibalism (implied)

🧸The Sawyers with a young sister🌷

Now let me make something clear beforehand… good luck trying to stay 100% innocent as a child while growing up with the Sawyers. The house is FILLED TO THE BRIM with bones and other human parts. Leatherface is wearing masks made out of human faces. I mean, there are literal murders taking place within the house! And the cannibalism obviously! I’m not saying it would be impossible for a kid to be innocent and sweet in this family, don’t get me wrong. However, I think the innocence would be more so because the child is oblivious to the fact that all of this isn’t normal.

With that being said! With such a young little sister around, the older Sawyer brothers would be viciously protective of her. You know how big brothers get with their baby sisters. No intruder could even manage to get close to the property without rapidly being dealt with. They’re more territorial than ever. No one will ever hurt their little sister. If it happens, it will be over their dead, cold body.

With Drayton at the gas station and the twins wandering around god knows where most of the time, the little girl spends most of her days with Bubba and Grandpa. Grandpa, as much as she loves him, isn’t exactly the most fun to hang out with though… So she and Bubba are the closest and get along very well. Bubba is a bit relieved not to be the baby of the family anymore and he feels a bit more capable and confident due to taking care of her during the day. When he’s not busy with chores, he plays with her. They’re often playing pretend with tea parties, playing dress up… and Bubba is genuinely having a blast each time.

Imagine Bubba letting his little sister do his masks' hair, with little ribbons everywhere and everything. Picture his pretty woman mask with ponytails or braids decorated with flowers, adorable. He sits on the ground and patiently lets her have fun, he himself is enjoying the little makeovers for sure. He only intervenes when she’s being too rough on the mask or when she needs help.

There’s also lots of Tag you’re it and Hide and Seek. Can you imagine how cute that would be? There’s this giant who's poorly hidden in a corner of the house or behind a tree, oblivious to the fact his round belly is sticking out of the hiding spot. And his baby sister creeps closer and closer until she jumps out at him with a loud “BOO!”. Bubba jumps with a startled yelp, causing the little girl to giggle with glee.

The two of them are very close and it’s honestly super sweet. I have a feeling Bubba would get along well with children. They share pinky promises, little secrets and such together. Bubba often carries his sister around like a bag of potatoes much to her absolute joy and delight. She loves nothing more than when her strong brother lifts her off the ground with no effort. Leatherface might be terrifying to others, but to his sister, he’s the strongest, kindest, safest person around!

Everyone is very, very fond of their sweet sister. And Grandpa also appreciates his granddaughter of course. Sometimes, she settles near him and rambles on and on about various things. You know that thing kids do, talking about mostly nonsensical things. Grandpa isn’t completely there, but he seems to enjoy her presence. The girl also probably likes to “gossip” with grandpa, like how Drayton says a lot of bad words, how Chop Top kinda stinks sometimes and how Nubbins blew raspberries at her the other day (How rude!). She does this mostly because Grandpa never scolds her for gossiping. He never really answers, but she still loves him.

The girl will be wearing her brothers’ old clothes from when they were children. Almost all of them are patched up, some of them are a little baggy, but they do the job just fine! She may have one cute dress to wear for special occasions, but otherwise, she wears the clothes that have been passed onto her. 

Sometimes, when a specific piece of clothing reminds him of something, Drayton often rambles to her about an anecdote from when he raised his little brothers. “Oh I remember patching up that one! Nubbins got stuck in that tree over there, it took an hour to get him down! The shirt got all messed up… Fucken nitwit… At least yer sweet hm? You don’t get into trouble like that. Yer a good girl.” *head pats*

Oh yeah, Drayton swears a LOT. He would attempt to watch his mouth around his impressionable sister, but he quite often slips up. Bad habit he inherited from Grandpa. Chop Top also swears like a sailor, but doesn’t even attempt to limit himself. He would probably even go as far as to teach his sister bad words just to piss Drayton off. Nubbins only swears occasionally, his language is surprisingly clean compared to the other two.

Speaking of Nubbins, he makes a ton of little toys and trinkets for his little sister! They’re pretty… Morbid. But still! They’re made with care and love, that’s what matters, and the kid most probably loves them. I can imagine Nubbins crafting dolls out of taxidermied small animals, and plenty of other stuff. His artistic tendencies and imagination comes in very handy! He takes so many pictures of her also. Just... so many. This kid has seen the flash of the camera hundreds of times by now.

Chop Top listens to music with her. He's that cool brother who visited the world and has a ton of stories to tell about his time in Nam Land. And he knows a lot of songs! So smart! The young girl listens to him talk with music in the background. She's having a bit of a hard time keeping up with the narration, but it sounds very interesting and cool nonetheless!

Bubba also makes stuff for his little sister! He knows how to sew quite well and will spend a lot of time adjusting his sister’s clothes so that they fit her a little better. He might also use scraps of clothing from previous victims to patch them up, or even decorate them! The sawing looks rough, but it’s sturdy.

Bubba gave the little girl his old Teddy Bear one night when she came into his bedroom after she had a nightmare. Big bro Bubba is very strong, he can protect her from any mean intruder! In an attempt to comfort her, he dug into his closet and retrieved the dusty plushie from the back. Teddy could protect her! He had protected Bubba from nightmares just fine when he was her age! Now that he doesn’t need Teddy anymore, she can have it. A pretty bow was added on the bear later on. She carries the thing everywhere with her. Teddy has his own spot at the dinner table.

Almost all of her toys are either passed onto her, or were crafted by one of the brothers. Brand new toys are a rarity and only reserved for special occasions, the Sawyers can’t afford much when it comes to these things. No worries though, the toys already available to her should be plenty enough! I imagine the kid would have a blast playing in the bone room. You know, the one where Pam stumbles upon in the movie. Picture this kid playing with different skulls, making them talk and playing out little adventures, or her just having fun with the feathers on the ground. Heck, just going outside is the best activity ever for the girl! There’s a big property to explore, flowers to pick up, bugs to capture and chickens to pet!

However, it’s always a bit scary for her when there’s intruders or victims around. There’s a lot of screaming and chaos, and Bubba looks very scared too. The girl is a bit frightened each time, but she feels reassured when her big brothers laugh in these moments. They’re laughing, so everything’s okay right? Plus, the screaming always eventually stops, they’re all strong enough to protect her, especially Bubba. Also, when there’s a guest, that means the fridge is getting restocked, which means more food on the table! So it’s okay. The girl does not know any better, this is just life to her. Family is good, family is safe, family is everything.

Thank you for reading! 🌼🧡

[desertthorn]

Ok, I'm getting caught up in Face and BA's practically non-existent relationship. I could go on forever, but I'm on mobile with long nails, so I'll stick to some bullet points for now to preserve my sanity.

•One thing I've noticed is how fucking difficult it is to find examples of Face and BA interacting. Just them standing next to each other is a whole lot of work to track down. 9 times out of 10 Face is next to Hannibal or Murdock where he feels most comfortable, ironically the same goes for BA. BA will take an order from Face at the appropriate times, but when they stand next to each other, they hardly ever interact if at all. One exception is that BA doesn't tend to react to anything Face says unless he's angry like in 'Black Day at Bad Rock' and 'Chopping Spree' or unless he's making fun of Face. In fact, I've noticed BA almost only ever teases Face. He yells a lot at Murdock and will argue with Hannibal, but he will outright make fun of Face.

It's also some of the only times BA smiles and laughs. Nearly every time this happens, BA isn't looking at Face at the time. He'll have his eyes on the road or being doing something with his hands that his eyes never leave. When Face ever tries to engage with BA, there is almost no reaction at all.

Face just waits for the tiniest nod before he moves on.

But once in a great while we get something like this:

This is one of the only times I can think of that they actually have a conversation. Face is complaining like he does, and BA responds with something insightful.

So to sum up, minus orders, there are basically three types of interactions between them.

1- BA mostly ignores Face while Face tries to talk to him.

2- BA teasing Face.

3- BA is angry at Face.

So why do you think that is?

• Here's what I've been thinking about.

Face lies for a living, BA doesn't like lying. Let's start there. I think when Face looks at BA and tries to talk to him, BA chooses to not react because it gives him the upper hand. Can't get scammed if you don't play your part. Not that he thinks he's being scammed, but BA has seen enough to almost always have his guard up. There is a lot of respect for Hannibal that let's BA feel more comfortable around him and with Murdock he gets affection whether he wants it or not, that's just how Murdock rolls. So for BA he's not making a choice until it comes to his interactions with Face. Now for Face, he has the same thing with Hannibal and Murdock, no emotional work needed there, but when it comes to BA he's at a loss. He can't scam his way into friendship with BA, but he can't be too genuine either. It's in his nature to also have his guard up, so there are two walls put up between them at all times. The biggest difference is you can tell Face wants to be friends with BA and despite the walls, Face trusts his friend/not friend probably more than he realizes. The poor kid was probably pretty lonely as a child so having this little family means a lot to him even if he is somewhat unaware of it. When Face tries to leave, he address the whole team, but it's BA who responds first. It seems to kinda take Face by surprise. So he tries to make light of the situation. Look at the two of them at the end here:

It's probably the only time they've ever embraced and it's clearly uncomfortable, but neither of them hesitates. Their guards both drop for just long enough to be friends. I know everyone focuses on Murdock in this scene, but I always notice this more.

•One last thing I'd like to add is from 'Black Day at Bad Rock'.

While Face is pacing back and forth in Dr. Sullivan's living room talking about how BA is gonna kill him, Hannibal says "Face, BA loves you." When Face doubles back and says "he does?" Hannibal responds, "Told me himself" (those lines are from memory and may be a little off, but the intention remains). Face is genuinely taken aback by every time he is informed of or experiences BA's affection for him, cuz he honestly can't see it 90% of the time.

Then there's this:

It was one of the only times we see them make eye contact and see BA smile. I'm not gonna get into much more here than BA starting angry and ending with him making fun of Face, there's too much here lol, but this is the best example of their dynamic.

.

.

I've gotta go, I can only type with one finger for so long, but I've been sitting on this and had to get it out. Feel free to add on!

[sleephyuns]

Jeongyeon’s dreams often reflected the events of her day. Something that she hated with every ounce of her soul.

There were times when the dreams were sweet, like the one she had on her first anniversary with Jihyo. Or the one after her raise at work. Those were nice dreams.

But, usually, her dreams only reflected the negative. The ugly reality of her days’ troubles.

Falling asleep on the train and ending up an hour away from home. The little fender-bender Momo had gotten in when they were on the way home from karaoke. Bombing her last semester so bad she could barely recover.

It was a part of her mind she could never fully control, and tonight was no different.

Just one quick, slumbering thought about cooking, and suddenly Jeongyeon was taken back to their kitchen, chopping away at vegetables while Jihyo stirred the pot behind her.

….

Jeongyeon wasn’t the best cook by any means. Not even second place. Momo had her beat in that department for years and, recently, Nayeon had gotten some decent recipes down with her wife’s help. Mina knew how to cook well too, though she barely had the time to do so anymore. A shame, since her rosé pasta was to die for…

Anyway, it was clear Jeongyeon wasn’t the best cook. But she considered herself just as resourceful as she was careful.

That must’ve been why it came as such a shock when-

“Ow, fuck!”

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” Jihyo was on her before the first droplets of blood could even fall onto the cutting board.

The knife clattered to the side when Jihyo casted it aside, tossing it as if it were to blame for Jeongyeon’s pain, not the hand that guided it.

“I-it’s alright,” Jeongyeon stuttered, suddenly jumpy at being the center of Jihyo’s focus —something that she felt hadn’t happened in some time. Or maybe it had? Either way, she couldn’t help but be wracked by nerves, with Jihyo’s touch and impending trouble making her way over.

She was already going to make a fool of herself later, she could feel it. And having Jihyo worried about her (already) was a problem.

She might not be mad at her yet. Accidents happened. Of course they did. Still, when the inevitable began to pile up, there was no way she wouldn’t stack this onto the tower of issues. Because Jeongyeon was supposed to be careful, supposed to be the levelheaded one of them both. But in the battle between herself and a soon-to-be-therapist, how could she even stand a chance?

“Let me get the bandaids,” Jihyo rushed off, pressing a paper towel into Jeongyeon’s hands, the pot in front of the stove close to simmering over.

Jeongyeon had the sense to turn it down, though not without watching the liquid dance in the pot for a few more seconds. The broth had thickened with time, obvious in the way the bubbles clung and stuck to the edge of the pot, daring to spill over the edge, but not getting there quite yet.

They were tame for now.

Even still, Jeongyeon found herself turning the heat down, putting off the possibility of a future mess. Hopefully.

“Ok here we go.” Jihyo reentered with the box of bandaids, wearing a completely different shirt than before. She hadn’t stained Jihyo’s clothes somehow, had she? The worry of inconveniencing her, yet again, bubbled inside. So much she couldn’t even bring properly appreciate the bareness of her girlfriend’s shoulders in her crop top. Not even Jihyo’s sculpted stomach. If anything, she felt a certain unease at her lack of feeling.

Jihyo, who’d always been her rock. A place to ground herself after a long day. If all she could feel was nerves, that certainly wasn’t good.

She tried not to think too hard on it as Jihyo grabbed for her bloodied finger, bandaid in hand. She was just about to press the quilted pad of it to the wound when-

“-hyo?”

A muffled voice, followed by a light knock at the door. That’s all it took for Jeongyeon’s heart to jump into her throat before plummeting all the way to her gut.

It was also all it took for Jihyo to drop the box in Jeongyeon’s hands and scamper out of the kitchen.

“Sorry Jeong, let me get the door and I’ll be right back.”

There was an attempt to smile in understanding, despite the aching throb of her finger. A plastic smile that persisted through the motions of wrapping her bandaid tight, sealing up the cut before it could drip any more. And, being the careful person she was, Jeongyeon tucked 2 more in her pocket. Just in case.

The pot started to bubble up again, but Jeongyeon didn’t move. Her ears were trained on the sounds just around the corner. There was talking, a little giggling, then the apartment door eased open again, bringing Jihyo back inside... and Sana in tow.

This time, Jeongyeon was treated to the noisiness of Sana’s keychains (yes, plural) dangling off the strap of her purse. In fact, it was that noise that forced her to look in Sana’s direction in the first place.

Bright orange socks, baggy jeans she was almost swimming in, and an orange t-shirt to match. It was well-worn, clear from the small tatters in the seams, the faded letters across the front. But that didn’t stop it from being just as blinding as it might have been when it was new.

Or maybe Sana being… Sana, just amplified that brightness tenfold.

“We shouldn’t be that much longer. You can make yourself comfy until then!”

The hand that Jihyo had pulled Sana in by was quickly let go, but Jeongyeon found herself blankly staring at the space where their hands had been joined. If either of them noticed the woman’s stare frozen there, they didn’t say a word. Sana greeted her like it was any other day.

“Hey Jeongyeon- oh! Do you want any help?”

Jeongyeon had stepped away from the cutting board, leaving plenty of room for anyone to take her place. It could’ve been a two person job, sure. But if Jeongyeon was as out of sorts as she was, it would be a lot easier for Sana to simply take over. Wouldn’t it?

“I think we have it all covered here, right?” Jihyo filled in the gaps of her nonexistent answer, looking pointedly at her girlfriend.

She hadn’t answered Sana, but she felt compelled to answer to Jihyo.

With Sana, she could pretend the hesitancy was apart of her personality, her clumsy was of adjusting to a new person. With Jihyo? There was no way to put up an act like that.

“I think so. Yeah. Got it covered.”

A decent enough answer. Incredibly convincing and not strangely delivered at all….

Well, maybe to some. But definitely not Sana.

“Come on,” the woman rolled her eyes, treading further into the kitchen, “I couldn’t let you two do all the work. Here!” Sana turned up the heat on the pot again, sending the bubbles back into a sticky boil, speeding up a process that Jeongyeon personally would’ve taken more time with. “I’m guessing you were in the middle of this, right? Anything else you need me to add in the meantime?”

There was a little tickle of annoyance under Jeongyeon’s nerves, but Jihyo’s fond smile kept it buried for just a bit longer.

Even if that smile wasn’t directed at her.

“No worries, I’ll keep an eye on it,” Jihyo had grabbed for the ladle on the wayside, stirring the pot so Sana wouldn’t have to, “I took the meat out to slice, so I’ll put it back in with the veggies when I’m done.”

Right. The vegetables.

As soon as Jihyo brought it up, Jeongyeon remembered too. They both looked towards the cutting board at the same time. And Sana, seeing where they were both focused, looked too.

A board with a diced onion, an untouched pepper, and only half of a chopped carrot. All highlighted by the small smear of red at the edge of the counter.

Jihyo sighed.

“Actually Sana, can you finish cutting up the vegetables over there? There’s only a little left. That way Jeongyeon can take a break if she wants.”

She placed a gentle hand against Jeongyeon’s back, though she could barely register it there. In fact, she hadn’t even registered Jihyo moving away from the pot in the first place. All she could think about was how her girlfriend was essentially dismissing her.

Some sort of sickening feeling was building up inside her, and she absolutely hated it. It burned deep, just like the tears that were fighting to sting at her eyes. Her fist clenched so tight the barely-healed cut reopened, a slow trickle of blood pattering onto the floor.

“Ah, Jeongyeon! You’re bleeding.” Sana’s eyes darted between the wound, the knife on the counter, and the bandaid now stuck to the floor. “Did you cut yourself earlier?”

Jeongyeon couldn’t find it in herself to respond. It pissed her off. It pissed her off so bad that Sana was asking the obvious. Wasn’t it obvious how she’d hurt herself? Why ask? Wasn’t it obvious what cut her deep? What had her seeping out onto the floor like this?

Yeah, she’d go take that break Jihyo had offered.

“I’m… gonna go get another bandaid.”

Her brain couldn’t recall much of the journey out of the kitchen. No noise, no sensation. In a blink, she was in the safety of the bedroom, leaned back against the door, lip quivering as she thought about what to do next.

The chair, she thought. She felt so heavy, she just had to sit. It clattered loudly when she practically fell back into it. It was one of those times Jeongyeon wished they had a carpeted floor in the room, potential stains-of-varying-kinds be damned.

Maybe she was being dramatic. No, she knew she was. But it stung more than usual. More than a nick, more than a paper-cut. As for why, she was unsure. And the best thing she could do with a feeling she was unsure of was ignore it. Ignore the aching feeling in her chest. Ignore the urge to cry it out.

With the need to busy her hands, she found herself fiddling through the papers on the desk.

A torn takeout menu. The food was good, but cold. An old gas bill. Fun. Some copies of the files from work…. yeah. She could work with that.

So began her practice of sorting out her furry clientele into different categories.

Organizing them by coat length. Dividing them by fur color. Sorting them in order of youngest to oldest. Wether it was a few minutes or several, Jeongyeon wasn’t sure. All she was sure of was the slowing of her heart rate, gradually and surely. Until-

"Jeongyeon, what's going on?" Jihyo asked as soon as she padded into the bedroom.

The look on her face had Jeongyeon sick, making her avert her eyes anywhere else, just to keep her stomach from lurching. Back to the papers while she thought of what to say. But she was fed up with those questions, about how she was doing when she clearly wasn’t the focus, shouldn’t be the focus. Not when Jihyo’s current thoughts were all about Sana, Sana, Sana.

As they rightfully should be.

"What’s the matter?" Jihyo tried again, "Why are you in here? Why’d you leave?”

Because it was needed.

"What… do you mean?" Were the words that Jeongyeon decided upon, hopelessly acting as if anything that happened in the past however minutes was normal behavior.

"What do I mean?” Jihyo’s eyes widened, even if Jeongyeon didn’t see them head on. She must be fed up now. “I mean you, sitting in here, hiding out in the room, instead of out there with Sana and I."

She walked closer to Jeongyeon, looking over her shoulders if the answer could be found among the words ‘chest line should be even with elbow’ and ‘wash last for a decrease in matting.’

"I’m not hiding out… I just… need to look over some work stuff. More dogs coming in and I wanted to look over the files."

Jihyo got even closer and god, why couldn’t she have let her be?

“Now?” Jihyo crossed her arms over her chest, “You can’t do that later? Or you couldn’t have done it earlier?”

Jeongyeon looked down at the scattered papers in front of her. It was so obvious that none of what she was doing mattered. Just nonsense work. Looking over the files? She wasn’t studying for some sort of test for a made up dog grooming exam. And Jihyo knew that too.

Her girlfriend wanted to know what was wrong with her. And now, in this room, could’ve been an opportune time to tell her she was uncomfortable, to suggest they could talk it out later. Lay it out on the table and maybe Jihyo could put two and two together.

But such a step could jeopardize what little balance they had left. What would even be the outcome of that? She didn’t want to sway Jihyo’s opinions on Sana, on relationships, on anything, just because she was a little uncomfortable and a little immature.

What should she do? What could she do?

“What’s wrong? …Do you not want to spend time with us?”

It sounded so sad. So, so sad. Jeongyeon forced herself to look up, finding Jihyo staring right back. Searching as she waited. Waited for anything to come from Jeongyeon’s mouth but… under pressure she was never quite good at responding.

A shrug.

That was all she gave in response. A shrug. And that action alone was as harsh as a slap to Jihyo, it seemed. She winced, letting the pain settle a bit, before brushing to the door.

She stopped, just in case. Just for another second. But Jeongyeon couldn’t think of what else to say that wasn’t an excuse.

Another second and Jihyo was out of the room. Back to Sana.

[depravitycentral]

Hi, I also gotta say that the uvogin fanfic is amazing I also really enjoyed reading that <3.

It was actually a good plan but why the heck did he even print out chats in the first place and kept them in the drawer under the TV? Like if it were his room ok but in the livingroom? Was it maybe his plan that the reader finds it on their own so he could have a reason to stop the pretend and then the reader would blame themselves?

(The fic is question is Partnership)

Ooh, I hadn't even considered the last part of that! That would've been a really good ending - my stand-by for fics is to make endings leading into shock and then sex or a post-sex haze; I am a creature of habit. (Mostly, I just saw the word count was getting to five number places and was worried no one would want to read something longer.)

But genuinely, you finding the evidence of his obsession was an accident - one Uvogin sincerely, honestly hoped wouldn't happen. And you're obedient, he knows that - even if you have a more rebellious streak in you, he's big. He's scary. He's strong. He told you not to snoop. He was sure enough that he'd be willing to bet his own life that you wouldn't dare disobey him or his rules - he knows your body language well enough from all that stalking to be able to read you like a book, and he knew from the moment that blindfold came off that he had you in the palm of his hand.

But then you did the unexpected. You rebelled. You disobeyed.

You were bad, and while he's initially mad at you, frankly he's more surprised than anything - a little impressed and proud of you, even. It fucks up all his plans, of course, but it's nice to see you growing a backbone, even if it is just against him.

And he did have plans, really - plans to slowly grow on you, to continue getting your favorite foods and 'accidentally' starting a new series or set of movies - and oh? What's this? They're your favorites? What a coincidence!

He was going to slowly ease you into the idea of intimacy; a hand lingering on your shoulder here or there, catching you when you fall (he sent a small burst of aura your way that had you losing your balance, but that's just a trivial detail), scoffing at you and telling you that you're holding that knife all wrong, let me show you how to really cut something. (He'll stand behind you, his chest flush against your back, arms grabbing your own and guiding you through the chopping motion, the extra cologne he'd spritzed on earlier in the day making your nose tingle and your cheeks feel warm.)

(And then, once you're asleep that night, he'll fuck his fist so hard it nearly breaks.)

He had a plan, yes, but he's mature enough to realize that it's all his fault that it didn't pan out (well, maybe a bit your's, too, because you'd decided to grow a pair and break one of his cardinal demands). He'd been stringant with keeping all evidence in check - away and secure so that you wouldn't find it. Maybe, with time, he'd show you all the things he's collected over the months he's been watching you - maybe, but only if the Stockholm Syndrome was in full swing, if you were willingly kissing him, instigating sex or even whispering those three little words with honesty. Maybe he would've, just to show you how much he cared - how much he still cares.

But to answer your question, nonnie, the reason why he has the chats printed out is because he wrote them while tapping into your phone line. Shalnark didn't mind doing his buddy a favor, and getting the bug planted wasn't too difficult. And it would go off at the most random times - when he's out, traveling for Troupe business, he doesn't have a computer or anything on him, and a scrap piece of paper and a pen are his only tools. He records what you're saying because everything that comes out of your mouth feels important, like it's something he needs to remember, like it's something that might give him more insight into who you are - another layer of you, maybe even one that only Uvogin ever gets to see.

And of course, once it's written down, he can't just throw it away. He has to keep them - just in case something you said becomes relevant. Just in case you mention something about him - the large man who passed you on the street today, but you were too busy with your nose buried in your phone to notice. The large man who was at the other end of the aisle in the grocery store as you agonized over which flavor of ice cream to buy with your limited budget.

And as for the placement of where he keeps all these scribbled records of your every phone call and interaction, well, it's really a no brainer. It was the only spot that wasn't already full with something relating to you.

Every cabinet, drawer, closet, shelf, nook, and cranny in his apartment is full of you you you. He's got everything his greedy hands could get ahold of - your underwear, chapstick, button, and bandaid, of course, but there's more. It ranges from things that are less disturbing - normal, even, like a pair of earrings or a hairbrush - to things that are just a little more suspicious. (Like your old toothbrushes - yes, plural - or your haribrush.) Things that could be considered totally understandable (if not a big extreme) and not creepy if you and Uvogin were actually a couple.

And then, of course, there's the more intimate items, the things you had the displeasure of stumbling upon - your panties, for example, and if you were to peruse through the cabinets below the sink in the bathroom you'd find all sorts of menstrual supplies, with your favorite brands, the right products for your flow, even the dinky menstrual cup you'd tried on a whim because a friend recommended it. (Yes, you'd thrown it away because it'd been too messy when you took it out and yes, Uvogin searched through your trash bag just to find it.)

He may come off as this big, imposing, simple, one-track-minded man, but he's not. At least, not only those things. Uvogin is smart - and as most yanderes with brains tend to do, his obsession teeters much more on the side of collecting information about you than you'd expect. He's just honestly curious about you in every way - he's clingy and needy and wants you, so badly that it hurts, and collecting your things was a way to help alleviate some of that ache before he could properly be with you.

So while he didn't want you to find any of his stolen goods, frankly, it was inevitable - any storage space (except the room he houses you in - just because he'd be tempting fate if he asked you not to root through anything in the modest closet or drawer set he's assigned to you) contains evidence and proof that Uvogin didn't just randomly get stuck with you. It was all purposeful, planned, calculated - and you, poor sweet little you, just had the misfortune of finding that out much too early.

Ignorance really is bliss, isn't it?

[nalyra-dreaming]

Nalyra,I would like to know if you have ''advices'' for us non book fans?

Is there things we have to keep in mind before entering the 2nd season? The writers are obviously following the books with some adaptions and there is a good probability of chances that some of the show only won't understand some directions.

I just want to be ready and open to what would happen.

Thank you.

Hey!

So... it's good to remember that while they're following the second half of the book, they are also incorporating things from other books as well. Rolin is taking from TVL, QotD, TVA and at least Prince Lestat as well. I would also say he is taking from Merrick (the adaptions you mentioned).

That means that, base-story-line-level we are following the second half of the book. BUT - and here it gets (a bit more) difficult ^^- the "Devil's Minion's" parts in both past and Dubai will be interwoven, as well as more things from the "Prince Lestat" era in modern Dubai.

For non-book fans... a lot of these references will fly over your heads. That's not necessarily a bad thing!

But... if you want to know the big whoppers that will happen? (I'm putting this under the cut, so SPOILERS AHEAD!)

Armand and Daniel bitching at each other is part of their relationship, as will likely be explained in episode 5 and (likely?) 8

Claudia and Madeleine will die, tried ostensibly for Claudia's murder attempt against Lestat and Louis making Madeleine, but actually they are simply in the way of Armand: "I could not prevent it" (yes, he could)

Louis will stay with Armand though he knows he killed her

Armand (book canonically) influences and mind-controls Louis

Claudia's diaries contain a very heavy twist, which will likely be put into the trial scene

if it's not clear by now, not all we saw in s1 was the truth (and s2 won't be either in parts at the very least), and we know they will revisit episode 5. Whatever they will do there, that will be heavy.

Armand (book canonically) chops Claudia's head off to sew it onto a grown vampire's body, and when the result is grotesque, he puts her into the sun

Louis tries to commit suicide in Merrick, I believe that will happen at the end of s2

That event will somehow be mirrored with something happen to Daniel, imho

S3 is "The Vampire Lestat" so we have to get there somehow, meaning Lestat will show up somehow

These are the main things.

There are... a lot more details, obviously. I have speculated a lot :)

This season will leave the "family" setting behind, and fully dip into the world of the VC vampires, and the old covens are not cute. Them taking from the other books opens for a LOT of possibilities.

But these... are the main events that I think will happen.

Please feel free to ask if you want more details or have further questions!

So soon now!

[makapatag]

so hear me out right (and this is by no means a smart blog post thing, im just rambling at 2am)

a lot of combat heavy ttrpgs (D&D4e, PF2e, ICON, Lancer, Panic! At The Dojo) rely a lot on keywording and mechanical definitions to create this interlocking (and hopefully well-oiled) combat engine that rewards good tactical choices and forward thinking. 4e needs you to know that Ranged Attacks Provoke Opportunity Attacks, and so you need to move away first to avoid that (often by spending their Move action to Shift). this goes for other games as well. ICON needs you to know that if an Ability does not have the "Attack" tag then its explicitly not an attack, even if it deals damage. This is important because some classes and abilities benefit from not attacking, such as the Demon Slayer

the far end of this is PF2e, where almost everything is Keyworded. Classes, Races, even Feats have keywords, and some keywords have Keywords in them. this is not bad design in my opinion: mastery of this keywording can create for some really cool effects (and you can feasibly design something very BotW which also depends on a lot of interactions between elements).

now consider that so much of tactics trpgs (that is, Traditional/Tabletop Role-Playing Games) rely on so much of that interaction to create fulfilling scenarios. most of the time this is because tactics rpgs also depend on build-crafting. there are a lot of tactics trpgs that don't really care about build crafting or has less of a focus on it to focus instead on the grid combat: games like Rune, Valiant Quest, maybe even Blood Neon, so im explicitly talking about the variety of tactics trpgs that are build-centered: basically anything that comes from the vein of Fourth Edition Dungeons and Dragons

one of my favorite parts about TTRPGs is that you can play them based off of the fiction. writing Gubat Banwa, I understand that sometimes you have to create that fiction, especially if its not one thats well-represented. the created fiction or genre is the blueprint from which the play-fiction arises during the game: that's the fire-like collective imagination that arises from play.

There's a design and play philosophy (common among OSR, PbtA, and FitD) known as Fiction-First. This means that you follow what happens in the fiction first before the mechanics or anything else. Not to preserve the integrity of a "narrative" but rather, to preserve the integrity of the fiction.

What would a Fiction-First Tactics TRPG look like? This is something I tried to set out to do with Gubat Banwa. I haven't really succeeded, as of 1e.3.

so i've been thinking lately. What if a game was Fiction-First? It would work similarly to the Keywording of PF2e, but more open-ended in its interpretation.

Look at the Panabas from PF2e (a weapon present in SEAsia! From the Malay Archipelago all the way to the Philippine Archipelago). It has the Forceful (your second attack on your turn gains +X (X = damage dice, third up gets +2X.), Sweep (+1 to attack if youve alr targeted a separate character), and Two-Hand d10 (roll a d10 when you wield with both hands) tags.

I'm not going to be translating these one for one, but let's use the fiction-first style of writing and mechanics i'm concocting:

Panabas. A heavy blade. Using this, you strike with Bravery. The forward-curving blade can chop through tree, bone, and bramble.

Heavy Blade is a weapon type, so this is classic keywording. The text afterwards is also keywording: striking with Bravery means you roll your Bravery stat when making attacks with it. All well and good: there's always going to be some classical keywording in there as necessity (its this entanglement of mechanic and fiction that's made me love PbtA anyway).

The later text is more important, because say then I made an enemy like:

Walking Tree. A tree that uproots itself, and whistles to kill victims. Made of wood, so they lose 1 Stamina when they suffer chopping attacks. If they're struck by flame, they start burning. [Insert other combat-important stats here].

Now the fact that the panabas can chop through trees interacts with the description of the walking tree being vulnerable to chopping attacks.

Now these really aren't too different from the concept of keywording (really they're in the same concept park), the different thing is two things:

You can now apply that chopping quality to anything in the fiction. Find some brambles on your way, maybe even brambles as hindering terrain? Then spend a Beat to attack it to remove it! That's fiction first after all

It's easier to understand just at first glance with just natural language.

The important part here is natural language. In Play, a lot of the time, my players love picking up on little things about lore-bites of the items and techniques they have and seeing how that can apply to the fiction. So this is more of that: weapons, items, techniques, armor all become things that establish fiction. When two fictions interact, a new fiction arises!

Burning: A status effect. While you're burning, lose 1 Stamina when you start your Break. You lose burning when you're doused by water or you take time to remove it. Improvise: (A basic action). Do anything that does not inherently harm, as long as it makes sense in the fiction, and doesn't take more than 4 seconds to do (Beats take up 4 seconds). You can use this to stop drop and roll to get rid of Burning. Deep Water. -1 Elevation. Water reaches up to your shoulders. Moving into deep water costs +1 Speed.

Of course there's still going to be mechanical descriptions there, we're not going for FKR full just fiction thing. We're just blending fiction into the game part. Even PbtA still has stats and rolling and mechanics to further support their fiction.

I wanted to write this so that techniques and other widgets can be written with fictional wording in mind, and that wording would affect how its used in tactical grid combat. A technique that says: "You are surrounded by a barrier of tornado-force winds. Any attack from outside your adjacency is swept away, unless it cannot be buffeted by winds." Becomes a mechanical thing: perhaps a spell of concentrated curses pierces through this, but not arrows or weak fireballs?

The Arbiter

The last piece of the puzzle will almost always be: who arbitrates the fiction? There almost always needs to be a final word. For GuBa, this is the Umalagad, not so impartial arbiter. For Solo Play, this is still the Umalagad, but as the oracle: they ask a question, ie, "Would this area of effect attack be buffeted by the wind barrier if the origin point starts from outside?" and they would roll a d10. On a 6+, the answer is no, the target would not be buffeted because the flames overwhelm. On a 5-, the answer would be yes, it is buffeted because the target is not the brunt of the attack. And the final answer becomes the ruling for the rest of that scene.

Last last thing is this particular rule that sets things down that I might put into Gubat Banwa:

The Law of Phenomenon Pay close attention to the words that you have. These words will decide whether your blade can chop down a tree, or your abaka weave blunts edged strikes, but susceptible to piercing spears. These words will decide whether your dazzling spell can daze opponents, or if the opponent you fight ignores it due to them not depending on their senses to fight. The words establish the fiction. The fiction is the world in which your characters live: follow it always.

[liquidstar]

I've seen a lot of people in the Re:zero community hate puck with a passion and call him a hypocritical toxic father, and a good portion of them accuse him of deliberately mentally abusing Emilia so that she can be a naive pretty doll with no sense of independence and always obey him unconditionally.

How do you feel about that?

i dont think theyre wrong per say but i also do think puck genuinely loved emilia a lot- i dont think this is something up for debate. he will literally end the world if she dies. but is that what she would want??? i highly doubt it. emilia is a girl who would die for a world that has been nothing but cruel to her.

puck was never really meant to be a father, like, thats not what he was made for. hes the beast of the end not the beast of paternal love. but thats also something about him i find compelling, because he changed so much of himself because he loved this girl so much. his mentality is literally "if anything happens to her ill kill everyone in the world and then myself"

but he does baby her. extremely so. and he does treat her like a doll. remember part of their contract is literally that he does her hair, and thats why she chops off in greed:if as an act of rebellion (normal teen girl behavior honestly). he also literally never told her what sex is- shes 17 and she had no clue, and its played off as a joke at first, but subaru's "damn you puck" rings so true.

remember in wrath:if it was puck who pitched a deal with suabru to keep emilia trapped in the "princess room" away from all the danger. the whole princess room thing (in wrath:if and also in her childhood) is symbolic of her loss of autonomy in a lot of ways, especially when you remember she's NOT a princess. she's a candidate to be a KING!

and there are more damning things within their contract too, like how she literally wasnt allowed to SEE HER OWN FACE! its not made super clear in the anime, but whenever she looks at reflections she actually doesnt see anything back (not because she doesnt have one, but that she herself isnt perceiving it. and i think a lot of this also comes back to the self-recognition theme of the story, the whole reflections though eyes motif and all. remember how much of her we saw reflected only through subaru's eyes? she doesnt actually see her own reflection until she jumps inside the lake in the trial)

but i think thats also a big part of why he broke her contract with her to begin with. i think he knows she hasnt been allowed to grow up, that shes been overly babied, isolated, and kept away from things that might potentially make her feel bad. including her past, and even her present and future... breaking the contract off all at once isnt a good way to do this, i mean, her mental breakdown was so emblematic of that. but i think its important to look at what it all means for the meta narrative.

the latter half of arc 4 was absolutely emilia's arc, and a lot of it was her sort of growing up. i dont think cold turkey is a great way for a parental figure to do this to their child, but emilia was so incredibly dependent. and a lot of that was because puck MADE her dependent to begin with. for so much of her life she literally only had him... like. she was all alone in complete isolation in a frozen forest for as far back as she can remember, and everyone in the world hated her for reasons she didnt understand, and all she had was this little cat thing to be her friend. OF COURSE shes dependent on him, and of course she thinks she cant do stuff on her own (shes so fucking scared of being alone), and i think puck sort of depended on this mindset to keep her a "child" for as long as possible

but she had to grow up eventually. she's 18, maybe almost 19 by this point of the story (still unclear exactly which month we're in) and this is just as much her coming of age story as it is subaru's. (but speaking of subaru puck also guilt trips him quite a bit about emilia's deaths, even when he himself is "gone at the most important times" in emilia's words, which is not only hypocritical but also manipulative!)

all this being said i seriously love puck as a character because when he was first introduced i was like "oh god. annoying mascot character. boring" and then the beast of the end reveal happened and i was like "oh so this is going in the kyubey ripoff direction. i guess that makes sense for a dark fantasy but idrc" BUT THEN he actually ends up being like. an actual character w a lot of depth and nuance to him, a lot of it being how incredibly fucking sketchy he actually is but in a completely different way than just "evil twist mascot." between him and matsumoto from vivy, i love how tappei handles mascot characters- theyre a really hard thing to get right w/o being annoying LOL.

[annlillyjose]

Rock Salt – WIP Intro

hello again! on today’s news, your girl has a new wip aka something to fixate on and mould her life around for the next couple of months (or years). and because i cannot keep any exciting news to myself, here’s a wip intro.

but before we head into that, here’s a little backstory to how it happened. i finished writing dairy whiskey, i worried about my brain being incapable of forming new book ideas, two to three days after i get this new book idea that i’m totally hooked on, struggles to find a name, names it, decides to go forward with it, so again, here it is – rock salt!

here are the specifics:

disclaimer: this is an original work of fiction. plagiarism of any kind will not be tolerated. don’t be a pathetic loser.

genre: literary fiction

pov: first person retrospective

structure: probably going to be just full-length chapters

projected word count: 50k

concept: identical twins rain and norah move out of their family home for college where they purse two different degrees, live with different people in separate homes, and fall in troubles of their own. these begin to affect each other and they grow apart, being forced to navigate the the most confusing part of their lives – their shared existence as twins.

aesthetics/vibes: indigo skies, the beach, moths, seawater, salty breeze, chopping off one’s hair because existential crisis and queerness, lesbian relationships, house parties, fire, gloomy days where you feel like it’s going to rain but it doesn’t, cheap housing, bad grades, rotten food in the fridge, the moon, hanging plants, weed and local flowers

CHARACTERS

if you’ve heard these names before, no you haven’t, but again, they’re from twinepathy – the short story i wrote nearly three years back and scrapped afterwards. i tried to create new characters for this book but they feel like the perfect fit, so here they are.

norah

18

lesbian, she/they

her real name is eleanor

the protagonist and the narrator

studies political science

shoulder-length black hair, dark brown eyes, 5'3, skinny, wheat-coloured skin

always wears basic t-shirts or sweatshirts with a pair of mom jeans

distant, secretive, in constant disapproval of everything

strives on academic validation (and is being too hard on herself to bring in good grades)

rain

also 18

aroace, she/her

her real name is lorraine

studies painting and the applied arts

long black hair, dark brown eyes, 5'3, skinny, wheat-coloured skin

is a goofball, sunshine and rainbows, has a lot of friends, is extremely talented in her art, golden retriever energy with some drama to be unleashed

cannot keep her mouth shut so ends up in trouble with norah

don’t want to introduce them officially, because they’re not key characters, but here’s a little info on their older sisters –

harper

23

is called harp

is a high school geography teacher

engaged to her college boyfriend

oldest child in an asian household (i guess that’s saying enough)

violet

21

is called viv

the neglected middle child

in her last year of a nursing degree

wanted to study music but was too scared to bring it up to her parents and ended up being stuck at a hospital

plans to go abroad and marry a rich guy

well, that’s all i’ve got for you today. i haven’t started writing this book yet and i think i won’t until i finish editing dairy whiskey in august. i think i’ll start in september and then hopefully do nanowrimo for it in november. i’m super excited to work on it because it’s so different from dairy whiskey in a lot of aspects. but i’m discovery writing (as always) and we’ll just have to see where it goes. but until i come back with an update for this book, you take care, stay hydrated, water your plants, and eat a second dessert tonight.

– ann

general taglist (ask to be added or removed)

@shaonsim @heartfullkings @vnsmiles @dallonwrites @wannabeauthorclive @sienna-writes @violetpeso @flip-phones @silassghost @ambidextrousarcher @zoe-louvre @writing-with-l @magic-is-something-we-create @femmeniism @frozenstillicide @wizardfromthesea @rose-bookblood @coffeeandcalligraphy @rodentwrites @saltwaterbells @snehithiye @at-thezenith

[joshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

PARAMOUNT PLUS KNUCKLES WOOOOOOOOO

Spoilers obviously!

Episode 1 thoughts: writing is kind of annoying, and I don't think I like this version of Knuckles that much - his proper arc in the movie was good but divorced from that context this is basically just idiot meathead Knuckles pushed in another direction entirely. Wade isn't funny or entertaining. Sonic's model looks worse than it did before, the forehead wrinkles are so offputting. I feel like they fucked their own lore weirdly - the second movie showed the literal founding of G.U.N. in this continuity and yet their headquarters are based in London and they're apparently already big enough to have double-agents within them working to support criminals. G.U.N. just didn't feel like such a big thing in the second movie is all, but now they are with no fanfare. Also they've acquired both warp rings and Knuckles' quills from ???? so hmmm. I'm definitely approaching this too much as an adult out to nitpick rather than remembering that this is for kids and it doesn't matter when G.U.N. became so prominent or how and when they got their hands on X macguffin, but idk I feel like the first 2 movies were paying some degree of attention to stuff like that so this just sticks out to me.

Episode 2 thoughts: actually not just Wade but I think nobody is funny or really all that entertaining to watch. I don't think the Sonic movies are great or anything but this feels aggressively like we're just going through the motions. I need a hero scene was kind of torture. I appreciate Knuckles gliding anyway since that's one of those things that's acknowledged surprisingly little despite being a core part of his gameplay in every playable appearance he's had.

Episode 3 thoughts: my favourite so far on the sheer absurdity of a lonely Jewish mother whose husband left the family and whose kids hate each other finding solace and comfort in Knuckles the Echidna and teaching him about Judaism

Episode 4 thoughts: absolutely indescribable experience. felt like a high budget fan parody. I was juggling so many feelings through my head while watching, reaching each end of the quality spectrum - this is both incredibly kino and also one of the worst things to ever grace the Sonic franchise. one must actively sever any interest in pretending this is something that should be taken seriously in order to enjoy it, although in doing so one must also acknowledge that the Knuckles show on paramount plus is now but a joke. the same Sonic movie franchise that rejuvenated public interest in the franchise has also birthed unto us a mockery of everything the series has ever stood for. Wade Whipple stole a kid's bicycle and chopped off a man's ponytail with a katana before then forcing that man to undress.

Episode 5 thoughts: this is straight up more enjoyable when consumed as a bizarre and surreal anthology but with a continual plot wherein the anthology part of it is just what is gonna be the directorial fetish of the episode. in this case it's several instances of shots being split across comic-style panelling or the same frame repeated in grid-patterns across the screen, things like that. that type of shot for bowling for 10 minutes and then a heartwarming emotional reunion with an estranged father turned heartwrenching as Jewish mother recounts the fact that he hurt us before and he's going to do it again. I almost forgot I was watching a Sonic the Hedgehog show until the bad guys showed up and reminded us that Knuckles the Echidna does actually exist in the show named after him. I'm starting to think this show is seriously worth watching entirely because it's so ludicrously detached from its source material and absurd in everything else it chooses to depict. The dialogue is so unnatural it's hilarious. Everybody has a certain voice they're doing for the camera and it's all super exaggerated. Wade actually betrays Knuckles in the end and I'm about to watch the last episode to see what happens.

Episode 6 thoughts: I think this show is incredible

Overall thoughts!

I don't even know how to succintly put into words how much fun I was having with this by the end. And I do mean by the end - you can see the progression of my enjoyment after each episode in this post itself - but it really is kind of slow and annoying to start until it eventually reaches such a level of absurdity that I turned off Sonic fan brain and turned on "I want to laugh at batshit insane media" brain. Once it got to that point though I was so fucking invested that I was feeling everything. I wanted Wade to start throwing bowling balls at the buyer so fucking bad and he did. The electric guitar kicking in when Knuckles powered back up and became the flames of disaster or whatever was the most excited I've been watching anything in a while. The juxtaposition between a serious emotional tale about broken families and standing up against those who have hurt you versus Wade Whipple in a Knuckles costume having a musical performed at him about the strength of the heart or whatever is immaculate.

I feel like this show was greenlit and allocated a budget before they actually decided anything they wanted to do with it so they just wrote some vague story outline and handed each episode off to a different director to see what they could come up with. The few who played it a little more safe, kid's action show type thing, didn't really offer much. But the ones who decided to have fun with it and just not even care about the source material, those are the ones that turned out really fun.

I will acknowledge right now obviously that none of that is exactly praise from the lens of a Sonic fan. This isn't good at being Sonic in any way, it's not even good at being part of the separate and standalone Sonic movie continuity either. Calling it disrespectful to the source material is an understatement and even the times where it decides to pull from what it's adapting you get absolutely bizarre errors like the Flames of Disaster being singularly attributed to Knuckles just for the hell of it. This should not be thought of as a serious attempt at telling a story within any Sonic the Hedgehog setting. This is a high budget parody that, through circumstances we'll never quite know, is also an officially licensed and endorsed Sonic the Hedgehog product. It's the worst Sonic adaptation ever. It's also so fucking entertaining and I would honestly recommend it to just about anyone. I'm literally already lining up a rewatch with some friends. It's so fucking fun. Like there's an element of irony and there's an element of so bad it's good and perhaps all of this is birthed by that and me being in a state of "I just finished something absurd and need to process it so I'm just yelling" but as a lifelong diehard Sonic fan who yearns for nothing more than good quality Sonic content I had more actual fun with this than almost any other Sonic adaptation period. This shit, my friends, is kino. And Wade Whipple is my new favourite Sonic character.

[pixelmensupremacy]

Hello and My Lord–

I've just read these headcanons about Resident Evil and the last two about Y/n being a childhood friends with Chris Redfield and the one with wholesome and such fluffy writing about Leon and Chris with Y/n who helps them go through stuff is just– *melts and dies*

I know that I just got here but I already love you and your content wholeheartedly💗💗💗

Also, If you don't mind. Can I ask something with the same Platonic Y/n with Leon and Chris but Y/n constantly gets hurt and simply doesn't notices it but when if it's really bad one - Y/n patches themselves up by their own.

I really love them both , but I need them being sort of protective or somethin.

Love your content and all sorts of writings!💕💕💕💕💕💕

A/N: Thank you, Nonny! That literally melts my heart. I'm sorry this is not the best I coud do, but Ididn't want to make you wait longer!

Warnings: Injuries, the boys caring for reader

To describe best how Chris is around you, whenever you get hurt or are in pain, would be one word

Chris Redfield

Protective

After everything he's been through, Chris couldn't bring himself to loose another close person

He would be alert to not let anything bad happen to his loved ones, including the minor things most would consider unimportant

Even if it's a minor injury he would always rush to your side at the sound of you wincing

He would make it his responsibility to patch up your wounds and won't even let you get on about how you can do it yourself

One time he went as far as picking you u bridal style only to put a bandage on the tiny cut you got on your finger as you were preparing dinner

"You should have left this to me." His tone was as serious as ever, his eyes keen on your finger as he wrapped it in a bandage.

"Chris I was just chopping onions." You rolled your eyes, yet deep down their heart melted at how soft and caring their boyfriend tended to be.

"I just can't stand seeing you hurt."

If by any chance you two met on the force he will be twice as protective

He is alert all the time and has your back no matter what

He would go as far as abort the mission if it meant you will be safe

Despite his effort, you still end up getting injuries

Quite a lot of them actually

Especially ones that are easily avoidable

Even though he knows it's part of the job to get a few scratches and bruises here and there, but it still deeply pains him to see you suffer

Yet it angers him when he knew he could have done something to prevent you from getting hurt

He would get disappointed with himself, but he will never say even though his body language says it all

At times he would scold you akin to a loving parent

Patching yourself up is out of the question in both domestic and working settings

Chris is prepared for any scenario, carrying disinfectant and bandages

Leon would definitely be calmer when you get an injury

Leon Scott Kennedy

Well, he'll still lose his shit, but he won't show it

He will play it off cool

He will observe as you take care of your injuries only to offer his help in a flirtatious way

"Need a hand?" He asked, his eyebrow quirked up as he carefully observed your every move.

"I'm doing great, thanks."

If you accept his offer you will see an immediate shift in his demeanor

His smug expression would be switched to a serious exterior that hid the worry that gradually grew within him

Much like Chris, Leon has gone through thick and thin

He naively believes he could protect the people he holds dear

Especially when he is younger

With the years he grow more possessive over his loved ones

Though he would still be very smug about it

When he notices you often get bruises and cuts he will take it upon himself to prevent them

If you always hit your pinkie or hips on the sharp edges of the furniture he would buy you corner protectors so you won't get bruises

When you two get assigned to the same mission, he would always save you from getting injured at the very last second

"A thank you would be appreciated." His voice echoed in your ears as your heart thumbed against your ribcage- you were seconds away from getting your fingers chopped off.

"Yeah, thanks."

Later that day he would check if you got seriously hurt

Just like Chris he will carry around the basic first aid tools

My boi pulled out a whole damn bottle of rubbing alcohol from his ass in re2re don't test him

[forevertrueblue]

Notes taken during Eras Tour Paris N1 livestream

I like the new Lover outfit(s). I've been waiting for Taylor to embrace orange more so that was nice to see! Sad about The Archer getting cut but I guess I get it?

Nice to see the silver brought back from the Fearless tour. Not much else to say about that era.

Red third now, okay. Nice shirt lol and also like the new bodysuit! I don't care for most of the inclusions in this era tbh since it's mostly the singles and the majority of Red's singles are mid IMO. And All Too Well 10 Minute Version staying is surely going to end up pissing me off in the long run when we find out what else is cut.

I like the new Speak Now dress but Long Live being cut is AWFUL, like there were only two songs in this era to begin with, cut something from Red instead ffs. (I swear I do like Red but the album is better than the way it's represented on this tour.)

Reputation is the same which I'm cool with since I liked the way that era was to begin with!

I've been predicting Folkmore combined which I'm not happy about but I think this is it. Pretty yellow dress. Glad Cardgian is safe but she's singing it on the roof and I do prefer Invisible String or The One. :( Glad all three triangle songs are safe because it's weird to do some but not the others especially if she's talking about that storyline in the Betty speech. Some of them were chopped down but that's okay, I guess.

Okay yeah Champagne Problems so a combo. I knew that one was gonna be safe from the rehearsal footage. Few more Folklore songs...okay finally more Evermore! Marjorie and Willow! It would have been weird for her to cut either of those (for different reasons). But TLGAD and Tolerate It are pretty big losses. I don't LOVE Tolerate It but the performance was different from anything else on the tour.

1989, nothing cut. (Something really should have been cut from both this and Red, but it probably would have been Wildest Dreams which is one I really love so glad it's safe!) I don't like the new outfit because of the colors looking strange together in this context.

TTPD looks like the dancers are prisoners for the first part of the set which eh, don't really love how basic the outfits are. Taylor's dress with the poetry is nice though (can't wait for someone with eagle eyes to decipher it!). Happy that So High School was included, if only for a bit, to get that Anthology rep in there. Pleasantly surprised by WAOLOM because people had me convinved she'd destroy her voice if she did it (hoping they're wrong lol). Some of these song choices are dull af (both Fortnight and Down Bad for a stadium show, really?) But LOVE the intro and performance of ICDIWABH! I kind of think this should have been the new finale set but I get why it's being kept the same.

Nice new dress for surprise songs. Paris was a predictable choice and I figured the other would be from TTPD, but was expecting an anthology track.

I love the Midnights set (surprising since the album isn't my fave) but if she doesn't cut something from it I'm gonna be annoyed. And that something better not be Vigilante Shit. Aaaaand the whole thing remains intact.

TLDR: The best eras (literally my top 4 albums were the ones that lost songs and my top 2 were combined) were chopped down and the more basic (dare I say mid) ones remain completely intact making the tour a bit more of a generic pop show on the whole. I understand cuts needed to happen but the wrong ones were made IMO.