#but they would style the cut in ways i simply cannot be bothered to do

[fingertipsmp3]

The feminine urge to give yourself a fuck ass bob

[bismuthburnsblue]

Help me design a dress!

this is our fabric! (left is the product image, right is my actual piece of fabric- ruler on the left is cm, on the right is inches, to give you an idea of print scale) its the black version of the break up robe print, in a lightweight & crisp cotton. i have 4.5m (5y) so it should be enough to make most designs, though some will require consideration in the cutting- we will get to that later though. (the fabric is also narrow, i think its only 110cm wide. (its still folded in the picture))

my goal here is to make a comfy wearable dress, something pretty casual & everyday in silhouette, but i would also like if it was possible to style up for a more formal look. most of my inspiration for this project has come from 1950s dresses, because thats a style i lean towards for myself, though im not aiming for anything "true vintage" or anything. im also fond of lolita dresses, so im more than down to draw inspiration from those also!

also, the print is pretty bold compared to my usual style, so ive considered doing some kind of translucent (chiffon, tulle, mesh) overlay to tone it down so its more wearable in my wardrobe. this will entirely depend on it working with out final design, and even then, ill offer you the decision at the end! ultimately, i still want to be able to appreciate the fabric. (for sewing people: id intend to do it as a flat lining, so it sits right up against the fabric underneath, not as a complete separate layer. i find this makes it block out the design slightly less) doing this could also help with adding structure to the dress, which i already think some designs might need, considering how thin the fabric is.

ok now the brief is out of the way, onto the first decision for the dress: the shape of the skirt. if you want to vote based entirely on vibes, feel free to click away, but i have included some more writing about each option & its ups and downs in this particular project under the cut (also pictures of each style if youre not so familar with what they are!)

& the propaganda for the options:

Circle skirt: you can never go wrong with a circle skirt- theyre probably my favourite to wear overall & i especially like the low bulk join to the waist as i sometimes find things with gathers dont sit as nicely on me. the way circle skirts are cut also gives them a movement that the other two methods simply cannot compete with in my eyes.

The main downside is working a circle skirt with this particular fabric. the fabric is not wide enough to cut the entire front as one, so i would either need a centre front seam or to make it a 3/4 circle skirt- something im 100% ok with, i honestly find at midi length a full circle to be too much sometimes. (there is technically the option to have full circle but rotate it so the seams are at side, but that might then mean i have to do some shenanigans with where the fastenings go). also, because the design is directional, each quarter will need to be cut so the seams end up on the bias, which makes for an Incredibly inefficient cutting layout. (again, if theres a CF seam, thatll be on the diagonal of the design, which really defeats the point of putting in the effort in the first place, to me.) i think i would be able to get all the panels i need out of the piece of fabric i have, but i think i would be a bit more limited with top options as i try to make sure to use as many of the small pieces left over as possible.

Gathered skirt: these are by far the easiest to do in terms of sewing. in my research into casual 50's dresses about 90% of all pictures i saw featured a dress with a gathered skirt (or actually, a lot seemed to have tiny pleats that give the effect of gathers, like the coral one. if we vote this way, i would be tempted to go try them as i think it might solve my bothers with gathered skirts in general)

i generally find gathered skirts less flattering on me- they add bulk at the waist and then hang straight down off the hips (when not puffed up with a petticoat) and thats generally not something i like on myself. i could improve that though by bringing more fabric in to increase the hem, and adding horsehair braid to the hem to help it swoop without additional support (again, my goal for this project is causal day dress)

this pattern uses the least fabric i think, depending on how much you put in the skirt- i think i should get a perfectly satisfactorily full skirt from this with less than 2m of fabric used. (honestly might end up too efficient- id like to use up all the fabric i have in this, and i really dont need that much for a bodice. i can see myself adding 4, even 5 widths into the skirt to use up yardage. i dont particularly see that as a problem though)

despite my reservations because of gathered skirts ive made before, for this project it does have one massive point in its favour: the fact that its still a full piece of fabric. all other styles here all cut quite significantly into the design to create their shape, while this be one panel of the fabric from edge to edge. preserving the design of this fabric is pretty high on my priority list, after all, i bought this fabric specifically because it was the OFMD break up robe print. i want whatever design i make to work with that.

Tiered skirt: for me, tiered skirts are the best of both worlds in terms of the effect they give. the fact each layer doubles means they keep some of the swish a circle skirt gives (and, i find, they tend to have more of the A-Line shape of a circle skirt too) while not being quite so consuming of fabric as you cut. i couldnt find many examples of 50's dresses with them (though i did find some) so i do feel like this style pulls more towards the style of lolita dresses & that might be reflected in the options i offer in subsequent rounds.

if you know anything about petticoats, then youll notice that this style of skirt is essentially the same construction as them (though petticoats often introduce extra layers and ruffles and.....) when ive made this style of skirt in the past i have found that it holds volume much like a petticoat does, without the need for an extra undergarment- something thats great for a casual dress!

I was thinking three tiers is the ideal number for this dress, though i could make it only two. i dont think i would make it more as, if i keep them even (which was my intention, though i am also fond of the styles that increase with each tier like my example images) then each tier will probably be 20cm wide, which is already looking like itll cut into the features of the design. i think that is the single biggest downside for this style- i wont reasonably be able to do much 'fussy cutting' either to work with the print, its simply not practical to do on this scale.

At a rough estimate, i think this is gonna use 3m of fabric in the skirt, which puts it slap bang in the middle in terms of fabric efficiency. i should have plenty enough to do it, maybe even to increase it if i want to, while still being pretty unlimited about what i do with the rest of the design.

one last thing- trim! one unique feature of this design is the opportunity to play with trim on the skirt itself. i do have some bodice ideas that play around with trim, and it would be really nice to introduce it into the skirt too, if we go that way. it could even be a fun nod to the piping on the original break up robe!!!!

Something else (comment): while doing my research i came across SO MANY design ideas that i could play around with. for this poll i picked the three i thought would probably work the best for this project, but i wanted an opportunity for you to yell at me if you want something different entirely. feel free to suggest anything you like, but ive included a couple images as examples of styles i saw a lot. i especially saw a lot like on the left, with gathering or ruffles off to the side, but the front panel being pretty flat. this might be real fun for some designs like shirtdresses, but im not super confident on how itd look on me. either way, feel free to form a coalition in the replies to tell me how i totally should have offered you this one particular option.

(if you vote for this but dont comment, im discounting it from the overall stats as i have no idea what design you mean! your welcome to send it in on anon if that bothers you, but either way, ill need a description :P )

[magickandmachines]

Part 3

(Disclaimer this story is rather experimental.. so if the writing style seems inconsistent it’s because I’m testing things out)

His words sank deep into her mind as she smiled softly and relaxed into his hold.

“Alright Visure, you win. I’ll be more careful, and I’ll try to take the protection with more grace. Does that sound better?”

Visure looked down at her in his arms, her small size reminding him of how he bonded to her when she was a child, and yet the years with her telling him she’s fully grown.

“Good. I could try to explain things better next time… though I’d rather there not be one.”

His reply was curt but the care he took in loosening his hold spoke volumes about his protective nature.

The two spent their day running around and doing chores, gathering herbs and ingredients outside the village walls to bring back to town. Dropping off wild honeycomb and berries at her neighbor’s home, taking some herbs to the nearby healer before finally returning to her grandfather’s house. The moment Cita opened the door her mother wrapped her arms tightly around her daughter.

“Cita there you are, are you alright, no scrapes, no cuts, nothing broken? Did you remember to eat today, you didn’t talk to any strangers did you?”

“Ma’ma I’m fine, you do this every time I forage. I’m not a child you know.”

“Your my child, I don't care if you’re two or twenty two I’m still going to worry.” Her mother spoke simply as she released Cita from her hug and rested her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. She turned her gaze slightly as she looked at Visure as he followed inside the house, her eyes narrowing at the robot for a moment before looking back at Cita.

“Just, promise me you’ll be more careful.”

“Ma’ma, how much ‘more careful’ can I be? I haven’t gotten hurt, talked to anyone I don’t know, and I’ve had Visure with me at all times. The only thing that could keep me safer, is if I didn't leave the house at all.”

“Now there’s a sensible thought.”

Cita rolled her eyes at her mother before dropping her foraging apron on the table and heading toward the back of the house. She understood her mother’s worry but was growing tired of the constant lack of understanding, but because of the overbearing nature of her mother, Cita grew too used to keeping her thoughts to herself. She climbed the ladder in the house’s back and made her way to the flatten roof top to sit and look out toward the distant walls.

“Visure, doesn't it bother you how she looks at you… I wish she would try to get to know you and understand that with you I deserve some freedoms.”

Visure looked down for a moment before sitting behind his human and holding her gently.

“She has her reasons, and I cannot blame her knowing what I do, about the past.”

“That was a syphon and a Cloaker that took apa away… that doesn't mean she can judge you like one of them. Drainers aren't the same, You aren’t the same… you’re usually the one stopping fights, not attacking people.”

“Hush the stress, its not a worry for you to hold. Her choice in despising me can’t do anything. We are bonded, and nothing short of deleting me entirely can get in the way of that.”

His words soothed her mind, she even felt some jealousy toward his ability to ignore hate aimed at him. Cita smiled and took a calming breath before leaning back into her companion’s support and turning her gaze to the open sky.

“Someday… we’re gonna get out of this village, and see what the world has to show us.”

Her voice held a hollow wish to it, a dream she says but feels already failed. Cita knew well that any travel outside these walls would be faced with war, violence and pain… but she also believed there was more out in the vastness of the world than just two hateful kingdoms and a village in the middle.

[goongiveusnothing]

remember how harry wouldn't let those other singers get the credit for singing in his song with him, and were told if they didn't like it he'd find someone who would accept that?///

Omg. I completely blocked that from my mind. That was the first time it really hit how greedy he is. I’m remembering his fans made it seem like an honor that he was stealing from the girl group. They would get more “exposure” due to the kindness of their fairy godmother Harry sharing credits. Except no one would have even known they performed the majority of vocals since Harry didn’t bother mentioning it.

He’s hell bent on being seen as some boy genius (loool 😂) who does it all even though we can see a whole ass village manufacturing his image. With how tight he holds on to his purse strings though, I cannot imagine him willingly giving anything beyond the bare minimum to anyone, not even people on his own team. This is a person who needed others to chip in on a donation so he would have enough money for his $250,000 Ferrari. He be greedy af. His downfall will be enjoyed by many. I’m here for it 🍿 🥤

some of his stans are still delusional about this, so this is what they said again. "AND IF YOU DON'T WANT THAT, THEN WE'LL JUST TAKE YOUR VOICES OFF AND REPLACE THEM." i know the harry style translators are very busy these days trying to turn all the stupid shit he says into something coherent and intellectual, but the meaning behind this comment was if they refused to engage with this shitty practice of just having a regular credit, the harry styles TPWK machine told them to get fucked, and they'd just simply replace them... with people who would agree to those terms. you either agree to them or walk. so they had to agree to get some money and attention from this. because harry knows people will agree to it because they'll want the association to him.

so if you think how he was like with them... it's absolutely how he is like with his song writers and producers. you have to give him the big credit no matter what, or he'll find someone who'll agree to it. he's not the only major celeb who acts like this.

and yes, the man is greedy as sin! i keep thinking that to cover up his all his bad PR he'll try some charity thing, but he doesn't! because to do charity would require his own money and he's not doing that! he gave that donation to a hospital via part of his tour money where they both put together some money to have a $100,000 donation, which meant harry could've literally only made a $10,000 to be part of it. unbelievable greed from someone with all that.

his shitty pleasing crap, his awful merchandise, the lack of any stage concepts or production at all, data mining, ticketmaster, residencies in US cities, all of these are to cut costs and increase how much he earns. there's zero doubt in my mind that he treats the people who make his albums in the exact same scrooge like way.

[mysdrymmumbles]

u know what i would read obsessively? either mevix comforting liila bc he found her panicing somewhere bc the scourge suck or like a fic OaF style with maybe not liila but another oc? idk hes underappreciated and while i adore thales him and mevix isnt my fave ship tho its super cute

I really liked this idea, so I ran with it <3

The Maw Walker has made a name for herself as an admirable whirlwind of death, and though Liila Dragonlily comes through Maldraxxus infrequently, when she does, everyone knows it. Enemies drop before her, and she has earned quite the reputation, enough so that some muse she will be sent to Maldraxxus upon her death–her talents would be a waste otherwise–and Vole himself has been trying to figure out how to lure her into a formal event at the Theater of Pain.

By the Primus, he wants to duel her himself.

Mevix is sure that will be one hell of an entertaining fight. 

That is why he is all the more baffled when he finds her now. 

When he stumbles across her during a patrol that takes him a bit further from his usual stomping grounds than usual, Liila is not the cold, fearsome fighter he has come to know. 

Instead, she is…small.

Smaller than he remembers, smaller than he thinks she should be. She is curled up beneath a low mushroom, legs pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her breathing is erratic and she is whispering something too low for him to make out clearly, though he catches a few phrases that repeat, like, ‘he’s not here’ and ‘doesn’t matter’. 

She doesn’t seem to know he is there, and with the way she is whispering, head bent forward so that her forehead rests against her arms, he is not sure he wants to reach out and touch her, lest he spook her.

That, and he’s heard from Mitchell that Liila can have her ‘moments’, whatever that means.

Mevix doesn’t need vague warnings to let him know that startling the Maw Walker right now will not be a good thing. 

Instead, he quietly backtracks, far enough away that he can come up loud enough to be noticed. Loud enough that she can have time to compose herself.

He lets his feet fall a little harder on the rocky ground and whistles a soft tune, though it sounds a little awkward, more like air hissing through his teeth than a whistle. It still carries the melody he seeks.

He cannot remember much of his life–he has been dead far too long for that–but he remembers this tune. The words are long gone, but he remembers that it was something that made the dark less formidable, a balm on frayed nerves. Someone who loved him sang this song to quiet his anxieties, and he has found on rare occasions that it still works when he is rattled.

And so Mevix strolls over, whistling-hissing his tune. 

He pretends to be surprised to find Liila sitting where she is, watching him warily as he approaches. 

“Maw Walker,” he says, giving her a nod. “If you’re looking for a bit of quiet, I suppose this is as good a spot as any. Might want to watch for the crawbats, though. They can get a little bold when there’s nothing else around.”

For a moment, she simply stares at him, her form rigid, expression impossible to read. Not that he’d know what all that moving flesh means, anyway. 

When she speaks, however, her voice wavers, ever so slightly. “Do you–” 

She cuts herself off, looking away quickly.

Mevix cocks his head and strolls closer, taking the words, however brief, as an invitation. “Do I what?” 

For a moment, she is so still. Still as death, as they say.

And then the words tumble out.

“Do you know anyone by the name of Derrick Bloodsworn?” 

The name falls from her tongue like something bitter and sour. She recoils from the very words as though they are some wretched curse.

“Can’t say that I do,” Mevix replies. It’s true, after all.

For a moment, the tension in her shoulders eases up. It is back too quickly. “I…you don’t know everyone who comes to the realm, though.” 

“No, you’d have to go to Vole for that,” Mevix says, “and honestly, he only bothers to remember the ones that he thinks will keep his spectators entertained. Took him an eon to remember my name, and half the time he still forgets it.” 

The joke doesn’t reach her.

Instead, she is picking at the hem of her robe, staring blankly at the ground in front of her.

“Do you want me to ask around?” 

“No!” Panic laces her voice, and there is a genuine terror in her eyes that Mevix has seen once before. During the rescue of the kyrian from the House of Constructs, he and Thales had found her like this with a fallen ascended. She had been so…lost.

One of her moments, he supposes.

Mevix doesn’t bother to be careful now. He walks over and sits near Liila, watching her as she eyes him.

“Who were they? This…Bloodsworn?” 

“A monster,” she whispers. 

“And you think he’s here?” Mevix doesn’t bother to tease her that he appreciates that. Because he knows about the Scourge. One of the first mortals to come to Maldraxxus abandoned their cause because they were too much like the Scourge, because they were too terrifying to wake up in the midst of.

“I don’t…” Liila hugs herself again, looking anywhere but at Mevix. “I read in Revendreth that some of the souls that come here are…questionable.” 

“Well, I could tell you that,” Mevix says, plainly. “You haven’t met Emeni yet, have you?” When she doesn’t respond, he shrugs. “Well, the only way to know is to ask.” 

“I don’t want to know where he is,” Liila whispers. “I just want to know he’s not here. I don’t want…” She wilts then, crumpling upon herself. “He hurt me.”  

Her voice breaks on those words, and part of Mevix wants to tell her that of course this Bloodsworn fellow isn’t here. He is a protector, after all. He struggles to think how he can ease her nerves. “What was he?” When she’s confused by the question, he shrugs, “Azerothian, I assume, but what species…race?” 

“Human. Scourge.” 

“Well, Maldraxxus does not get many souls from any one place, and I can think of six or seven from Azeroth, even less who were human. Maybe three in the last age or so. None of them are your man.” 

She nods then, more to herself than anything. 

They sit there in the quiet, the sounds of nearby crawbats calling to each other the only thing to break up the silence. 

Finally, she runs her fingers through her hair and groans. She sounds more herself. “I had a dream that he was here. That I turned around and it was him. Right behind me.” She shivers. “He only ever snuck up on me like that once or twice, but that’s how I remember him the most. Just being there, so suddenly.” 

“Well, wherever he is, it’s not here,” Mevix assures her.

She nods again, shivers. 

Changes the subject. 

She asks about supplies for the realm and assistance needed and after a few mutual friends of theirs. Mevix lets her set the course for their conversation and answers appropriately. By the time they walk back toward the theater, she seems like her usual self, quiet and distant, but dutiful and filled with purpose.

He sees her to the flightmaster before turning and heading off to find Vole. He has some inquiries to make.

After all, he wants to make sure that Derrick Bloodsworn is not in Maldraxxus.

And if he is…

Well, Mevix can fix that.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

hi I’m here to review the Clementine comic. it’s not good.

Does this even need an introduction? You know why I’ve gathered you all here today. You know the comic exists, and you probably know that it’s not great and we’re all upset about it. 

Myself included. I am not okay. At all. 

Skybound could’ve literally spit in my face and I’d come out feeling better than I did reading this comic, because this comic is an insult to the original Telltale games and Clementine as a character. 

This comic is a fancy fanfic. Glorified fanfiction. It’s not canon, and Skybound and Tillie can pretend that it is, but it’s not. Bold of them to assume we’d just accept this from people who didn’t work on the original games and never wrote for Clementine before, and based on this comic alone, any chance of us taking it seriously is gone. 

I’m gonna go through every single page, every panel, of this comic and give you my review. So I guess if you’re worried about spoilers [though at this point why would you?] then be warned, spoilers for the entire comic ahead. 

I also wanna add that I have nothing against Tillie Walden. I know a lot of dingdongs are harassing her on insta over this comic and that’s not okay. You telling her how much you hate her isn’t going to change anything. If anything, you keep being assholes to her and she’s just gonna block everything out, even things simply critiquing her work in hopes that it helps her improve. 

You’re allowed to be upset about the comic and share your feelings about it, but don’t take it out on the actual human being like that. Besides, like I’ve said before, if Tillie wasn’t gonna make the comic, Skybound would’ve found someone else to do. This was coming no matter what because Skybound wants that coin. 

That being said, I’m not going to hold back my opinions on this comic. Skybound and Tillie made this comic, they put it out there and asked for money for it, therefore I’m allowed to explain why it’s garbage as well as ponder over the questionable intent and whether or not Tillie actually has played these games. Y’know, it’s like how I have nothing against Kent, but sometimes he says things I disagree with and well, y’know how it goes. 

Alright, this is gonna be long, so let’s go--

The first few shots we get are of the school, two people sleeping, and Clementine’s empty bed. Nothing super note-worthy, we have no idea who is sleeping in the beds, it’s just there to establish that it’s early and everyone’s still asleep. 

The drawing of the school looks fine? Not super accurate, but I can give it a pass since it’s a few years later, I assume. What I can’t give a pass is how you managed to already mess up on the first page of your comic. 

Because..... why are you implying that Clementine’s room is upstairs? First of all, seems kinda dumb to put Clem, who has only one leg and has to walk with crutches, upstairs. Also, if you’ve played TFS and paid any attention to where her room is actually located [the dorms] then you’d know there isn’t any stairs leading to their floor. It’s the side building next to the admin building, you walk through the door, go down the hall, take a left and their dorm is right there sooo..... 

Oh right, it’s probably done this way so that we can have such a suspenseful moment where Clementine is sneaking out while the others are asleep and her foot makes a creeeeeeakk that could wake everyone up, thwarting her plans of abandoning everyone quietly so she doesn’t have to deal with any consequences. 

Because yeah, Clementine is sneaking out with all of her supplies because apparently, she’s been planning an escape from this place for a while. 

And just look at how gosh darn happy she is about it. You can’t see or hear me, but know that I’m laughing. Don’t worry, I will talk about her abandoning everyone later.

But first, I have a gripe with Clementine's design in this comic. It doesn’t look like her. This art of her right here is the most accurate we get throughout all 12 pages, and it’s the best looking, too. 

Moving on, she slams the door shut while this walker changes faces and hair between panels, so that’s cool. I will say, I like the idea of the Ericson crew putting spikes on the door. That’s fun. 

Though Clementine slamming the door shut while trying to sneak out seems counter productive but it fits with the theme this comic has of inconsistency, so it works. 

Next we have Clementine going to what I believe is the fishing shack by the river, and she’s going through some things that she’s stashed away, telling us that she’s been planning this escape for a while. 

Oh good, she has a map. Well at least now she won’t get lost out there in the woods while she makes her escape... also that last panel with her profile.... why does it look so funny? Like this page of the comic doesn’t look too bad, but there is something off putting about her eye there and how she has zero expression. 

And it turns out that rustle was a walker, and Clementine is super inconvenienced by this and gives us our first piece of witty dialogue.

Yeah you dumb walker, can’t you see Clementine is busy running away from home and abandoning all of her loved ones without a single goodbye so she doesn’t have to witness the consequences of her selfish actions?? Gosh, so rude.

Just a heads up, the dialogue in this comic is stilted, emotionless, and bland. The words have no flow, no charm, and never feel like they should be coming out of Clementine’s mouth. Then again, the upcoming graphic novels this is tied to are for young adult/middle graders so I guess we have to dumb everything down so their baby brains can process it. 

.....Why does her face look like that? Also, interesting that she decided to move her ponytail to the other side of her head.... which is a thing that happens throughout this comic, her hair will randomly change sides. 

I believe it’s a metaphor for her changing and inconsistent personality. 

So yeah, Clementine is just making off with the supplies she gathered [I’m sure Ericson doesn’t need ‘em anyway] and she’s just so gosh darn annoyed at all these small inconveniences bothering her.... because it’s just too early for this. 

.....Again, why does her face look like that?

I’m sorry, like I get it, Tillie’s style is supposed to be purposely messy yet minimal but it doesn’t work. When you do a comic in a more messy style, usually it has charm and heart put into it. Effort goes into the messy look, and when things are minimal, that usually means more clean, yeah? So you put them together and just..... that is nothing resembling Clementine’s face. 

Can we just--

Look at canon Clementine’s face. Look at the way her eyebrows are shapes, how wide her eyes are with her eye lashes. The dirt on her skin, the lines-- there is so much personality in her features. It doesn’t matter if she’s wearing a neutral expression or she’s expressing anger or joy or sorrow or whatever. 

Now, is it fair to compare a model of Clem from the games to the Clem in this comic? Well, I assume that if Tillie is doing this comic, she would use references from the game to ensure that Clementine is recognizable, especially now that she’s no longer wearing her signature hat. 

So why does she look like this? Why do I look at these drawings of her face and see nothing but a pair of eyes, a nose, and a mouth? You might as well draw me a simple smiley face. And I get that it’s a comic, and it’s a lot of work to draw the same character over and over again and you gotta cut corners somewhere, but maybe put some effort into the close up shots of her face so that we can actually see it’s her? 

Other fan artists have made comics in their styles that shine bright with Clementine’s personality, so what happened here? 

Anyway, surprise..... it’s not a walker annoying Clementine. 

........Why does AJ look like that??? I’m sorry, I hate to do the same thing I just did but--

Just because you put Clementine’s hat on AJ that doesn’t automatically make it him. I just.... wow. This feels like there wasn’t a single reference involved, like if someone gave Tillie a basic description of AJ and she just did this. 

But appearances aside, what is AJ saying? He says that he knew it, that Clementine’s leaving and I cannot stand this dialogue. It’s unnatural. Again, I know you wanna dumb it down for all of us because I guess we dumb.... but this conversation does not feel natural. 

“I knew it. You’re leaving.” “AJ....” “I’m coming.”

Even if you changed it to, “I’m coming with you.” it would sound more natural. Hell, he doesn’t even question WHY she’s leaving, he just stands there like “I’m coming” like??? I’m sorry, have you ever heard a single word this murder baby has said? I assume you have because I assume you actually played TFS, right? Soooo.... what happened here?

.....whY DO THEIR FACES LOOK LIEK THAT KSAJDLKJAS:LKDJLKASJD:L--

So now we’re getting into it.... into the bullshit. 

Clementine tells AJ to go back to the school, and AJ says that she wasn’t even going to say goodbye..... and then more bad dialogue that sound unnatural when you try to fucking read it. 

First off.... AJ’s reaction to Clementine attempting to leave is barely anything. Again, I hate to keep questioning if you actually played TFS, but AJ would throw a fucking fit if he caught Clementine out here ALONE like this, attempting to leave. 

And then he says “Like last time? You were going to come back?” this sentence makes my brain hurt. I just.... “Like last time, right? You’re coming back?” UGH

Wow, I feel nothing. 

I’m sitting here watching these two imposters with fucked up faces who are supposed to be Clementine and AJ and I feel nothing. 

I’m not even going to comment on the faces anymore. You can see it. You know. 

So yeah... AJ tells her the #1 rule, and reminds her that she promised.

Y’know.... she promised that she would never leave him again? Remember? At the McCarroll ranch? That flashback that was in TFS? The one you would watch if you played the game? 

Why is she looking straight at me when she should be looking at AJ as she says this? Is this Clementine’s way of telling me she’s sorry for what a shitty direction this is taking? I wouldn’t know because her face isn’t doing anything. Just because you draw a couple of tears that doesn’t mean I’m feeling the emotional heartbreak you’re attempting to convey. 

I don’t have enough middle fingers for this.

Well, my hat’s off to you. Ya did it. Ya fucked up everything single part of Clementine’s character in the span of two pages, I’m almost impressed. 

First off, the baby thing is weird. Why is she calling him that? She’s never called him that, which you should know.

Second, she’s not happy and that’s why she’s leaving. Clementine isn’t happy, and AJ can’t make her happy. Ericson can’t make her happy. So she’s going to go out on the road to.... what, be unhappy by herself? 

I’m sorry, but apparently we need a few reminders here of who Clementine is, because this isn’t her. 

This is Clementine. 

Clementine fought for years to find a home, something she hasn’t had since she was an eight-year-old girl before the apocalypse. The motor-inn wasn’t a home, the cabin wasn’t home, the ski-lodge, Howe’s, Wellington, Richmond, Prescott, none of them were home. 

She struggled for years, dealing with trauma after trauma while out on the road. She went from group to group, watching people she cared about die and she was powerless to do anything about it. Whenever she let her guard down and become comfortable, it bit in her in the ass and left her heartbroken.

She was there when AJ was born. She grew close to Rebecca while she was pregnant, she let herself do that even after everything she went through with Christa. Clementine had a bond with AJ even before he was born, and after Rebecca died, she did what she could to keep him safe, despite play choice. 

She cried when she thought AJ died and when she found him in that car again. She swore to protect him, to raise him right and love him. All they had was each other. 

And when she joined the new frontier and AJ got sick, she risked everything to save him and she was devastated when they took him away from her. When she found out he was alive, she is willing to go as far as helping Lingard overdose [INJECTING HIM HERSELF IF SHE HAS TO] to figure out his location. She did shitty things to find him, she killed people at McCarroll Ranch to find him again. 

Clementine raised him and he is her family, do you understand that? She went to hell and back for him, she taught him how to protect himself, and even though she made mistakes she sacrificed everything for him. She promised him that they would have a home of their own one day, she talked about how much she wished for a world where she didn’t have to worry about fighting and killing and AJ could just be a happy kid. 

She fought for Ericson, she watched her friends die or become mutilated by someone from her past. She allowed herself to be vulnerable enough to pursue a romantic relationship with Louis or Violet because she felt safe with them, felt safe at Ericson because it’s their home now. 

And when Clementine was bit, she thought she was going to die but she still fought to make sure AJ would be safe and happy without her and it was heartbreaking. She’s dying and the only thing she cares about is AJ. Not herself, not what’s going to happen to her after she dies or turns... no, she tries to make AJ smile again, she makes sure he remembers the rules, and she tells him that she loves him. 

Then he cuts off her leg, and she survives. AJ saved her fucking life, and she got to wake up at home and live to see her family again. She got to push AJ on a tire swing, she got to eat a hot meal and laugh with her friends, she got to make plans with her lover/best friend for what’s next for Ericson, and she got to talk to AJ and tell him the truth... and she asked him if she did a good job, and he’s honest with her right back. 

Hell, she tells him to keep her hat. Her iconic hat. The one thing she has left of her father, possibly her more cherished item. She lets him keep it. 

The last time we see Clementine, she’s happy. She’s sitting on the steps by herself, staring at her family with such fondness in her eyes and a smile on her face because she finally did it. She finally found a home where she can breathe. She has a bed to sleep in, she has AJ with her, she has a boyfriend/girlfriend who loves her and who she loves back, she has friends she can rely on. 

Clementine smiles, and lets out a small laugh. 

She doesn’t have to run anymore. 

And now you have the balls to tell me that AJ and Ericson don’t make Clementine happy anymore. 

She abandons everything to go back out on the road again, and that’s proof enough for me that you don’t understand a damn thing about Clementine or her journey. 

“ I don't even know the person I'm talking about... It's like all we have in common is the same name.” 

....Anyway.

Wow, Clementine found a car and kept is stashed. How lazy and convenient for this bullshit plot. 

And this is the part where I have to tell this comic to fuck off. 

What, you think if you throw in an incredibly inaccurate flashback next to a current pair of hugging Clem and AJ that I’ll feel anything but anger? That flashback is a slap to the face. It’s snowing, but the only time we’ve seen snow is in S2 when AJ was a literal new born, so why is he that big? Is that supposed to be from ANF because that ALSO doesn’t look like that AJ, and that’s not the outfit Clementine had on... AND there was no snow. This is cheap and meaningless. 

Any fan of the series who has played through the games could tell you this. 

So.... AJ runs into the woods and then we get this garbage.

This comic is awful. It misses the point of everything TFS, and the rest of the series, stood for. There is no heart here. I feel no happiness in reading it, and I don’t detect any passion behind it. It’s a lifeless comic that retcons everything in order to throw AJ away and start fresh with a new adventure for Clementine that makes no sense because the cow isn’t profitable unless it’s milked. 

This isn’t canon, and it won’t ever be canon, and honestly? At this point, I have no faith in the graphic novel trilogy. It will take a lot to do a turn around from this, and I don’t even know if that’s possible. 

Again, to reiterate, I don’t have anything personal against Tillie Walden herself. She’s just doing her job, and from what I’ve seen of her as a person, she seems like a sweetheart. I don’t want anyone giving her shit because I think the comic isn’t good or that you agree with me. All of my anger is directed at the comic itself, her work, not specifically her.... and a little bit at Skybound, because they’re the reason this is even a thing in the first place. 

So yeah.... there ya have it. 

[tatesweaterweather]

Fem!Reader making a joke about ‘boring’ sex with James & he gets angry 😳😳

(⚠️ warnings!: medium level bdsm <3)

It had all started one evening when you were with James that everything had been unravelled. You were both in his office, him finalizing new documents for the hotel while you were reading one of the many books Liz had lent you.

Sighing, you put your book down.

“What is troubling you so, my darling?” James had asked, not bothering to look up from his work.

“I’m bored.” You replied.

“I wish I could entertain you, my love. But, as you can see I am very busy.” He motioned to his papers.

“Can you not just take a break for like a half hour? We could do whatever you want within that time. We can even have sex if you wanted to!” You had asked sweetly, not noticing how desperate you really sounded.

“Darling you know I would love to, but I simply cannot afford to just drop everything right now. I promise, I will tend to you later.” He replied shortly.

“Fine, I didn’t want to have boring sex with you anyways.” You mumbled the last part of your sentence, picking up your book again. Not knowing if he heard that correctly, James had whipped around in his chair.

“What did you just say to me?” He questioned.

“I said I don’t want to have boring sex with you anyways.” You repeated, not looking up to see his shocked and angry expression. Without hesitating, he had gotten up from his seat, walked over to you and ripped the book straight from your hands before chucking it aside.

“Hey! I was reading that!” You complained. When you had lifted your head to see his face, your stomach dropped and your throat went dry. Nervously and out of instinct, you gulped.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to say such things, darling.” He said as he lifted his hands to gently wrap around your throat.

“Or what?” You mocked shakily. With that, he pushed you by the throat down onto the couch. He leaned down to spread your legs, placing his knee in between them as he whispered in your ear.

“Darling, I’m going to say it once and I’m not going to say it again so you best listen to me now. You’re going to go back to our room, strip down to your underwear and wait for me. If you are not done by the time I get there, you’re going to wish you were dead somewhere that is not within these walls.” He warned, and you did not hesitate to comply. You waited for him to lift his knee before rushing to your shared bedroom.

Not knowing how long he was going to take, you hurriedly stripped out of what you were wearing down to your matching underwear set. It was nothing too fancy, but you saw no point in changing seeing as James would arrive at any moment and there was no telling what he would do if you didn’t obey what he had asked.

After about three minutes of waiting, James walked in. You stood nervously, waiting for his next orders.

“Get on the bed and lay on your back.” He demanded in a low tone, which meant he was not going to repeat it again. You nervously walked over to the bed and laid on your back as commanded. He slowly walked over to you and held out his hands to show you something that made you gulp in anticipation.

A rope and a blindfold.

It was clear James could see the nervous look on your face, and his facial expressions softened for just a few seconds.

“Are you okay with this, darling?” He asked. You nodded enthusiastically and his dominance kicked in again.

“Lift your arms up.” He commanded. You obeyed, lifting your arms up to the headboard where he tied them together so you couldn’t move them no matter how hard you tried. Then, exchanging looks one last time that said you were both comfortable with this, he placed the blindfold around your head. You automatically tensed up seeing as this was your first time being blindfolded during sex.

James noticed this and softly caressed your arms before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pocket knife. You whimpered softly at the lack of touch before flinching at the sound of his knife opening.

“Shhhh, it’s okay darling.” He reassured you, kissing your lips gently before going back to what he was doing. He had kneeled over top of you, fully clothed, and began dragging the pocket knife up your chest to cut your bra clean off. Setting his knife aside, he reached down and swiftly lifted your bra to toss it aside before moving down to your underwear. He repeated the same process, cutting your underwear and tossing it aside.

You moaned softly at the humiliation of it all. Him being fully clothed while you’re a whimpering mess below him. Naked, blindfolded, and tied up. You were completely vulnerable at his expense and you both knew it.

You could feel James crawling off of you to get off the bed, and you nearly whimpered at the thought of him leaving. But just as you were about to let out a noise, he returned.

“Now surely you don’t think I’ve forgotten about your little remarks earlier, right?” He taunted, lifting his hands to caress your soft skin.

He then readjusted his position on the bed so he was in between your legs. You gasped loudly as you felt him slap your already dripping cunt. You then felt him lick a stripe up your clit and you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan. You went to tangle your fingers in his hair, but that only made the rope burn your skin even more than it already was.

He slowly dipped his tongue in and out of you, and shortly after, he slipped a finger in. You whimpered and cried out at the feeling. As his fingers curled inside of you, you arched your back slightly and sobbed.

“James, I’m gonna cum.” You moaned. With that, he removed all contact.

“No, no, no. Please James, please let me cum.” You pleaded, but it was no use. You could hear him get up again, but this time you could hear the sound of clothes getting tossed aside. He walked over to the bed again, and began to untie the ropes.

“Get on your hands and knees.” He demanded. You rushed to obey him, nearly falling over in the process. “Now remember darling, if you even think of misbehaving again, I will not hesitate to tie your hands again. Got it?”

You nodded as you waited patiently in position, your breath feeling uneven as you shake in anticipation. Although you couldn’t see him, you could hear him crawling on the bed behind you. What you didn’t know though, was that he had his belt in his hands instead of tossing it aside earlier. Just as your breath was starting to even out again, he whipped your cheek which caused you to gasp loudly.

“Now my darling dearest, tell me what you did to deserve this.” He asked in a dominate tone that made your legs feel weak.

“I- I wasn’t respectful of you. I mocked you and challenged you.” You trembled.

“That’s right, my love. Now, can you tell me what happens to girls who act out and are disrespectful?” He asked, even though he seemed to already know the answer.

“They deserve to be punished.” You whimpered.

“That’s right. Now, I want you to count all 10 of your punishments. If you suddenly stop or miss a number, we are going to start all over again.” He said assertively.

“Yes, sir.” You agreed, which made him groan softly at the choice of nickname.

After what felt like forever, you had finally gotten to 10 whips. By the time you both were finished, James’ fingertips were white from the grip on his belt and you were choking on your own sobs.

“You did so good, my darling. I’m so proud of you. You deserve a reward. Do you want a reward, my love?” He praised. The only thing you could do was nod as you tried to calm down from the choking sensation.

He then flipped you over so you were laying on your back, and he untied the blindfold. You immediately hissed at the harsh lighting, and James leaned down to kiss you. You melted into the kiss, missing his soft lips after the harsh assault on your bottom. He then pulled away to whisper softly in your ear.

“Are you ready for me, my love?” He asked, and you nodded.

After lining up his tip with your wet entrance, he pushes in slowly to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable in any way. You both moan softly, the feeling of being this close together never really sinking in. He begins to thrust at a fast, even pace after he knows you’re okay. After a few moments of him fucking into you harshly, you start to feel that familiar feeling in your tummy.

“James, can I please cum now?” You pleaded.

“Yes my love, you can cum now. Cum for me.” He says as he fastens his pace even more, if that’s possible. As soon as he feels you beginning to tighten around him, he starts rubbing your clit which makes you scream out in pleasure.

You slowly begin to let go and let the waves of immense pleasure wash over you. You feel your legs beginning to go limp as you try and clutch onto James for dear life. He slowly cums inside of you, knowing it’s okay because you two have discussed it and done it plenty of times before.

He gently lays you both down beside him as you both begin to come down from your highs.

“Darling? Are you alright?” He asks lovingly.

“Yes James, I’m okay. I’m just feeling a bit tired now is all.” You reply sleepily.

“Well my love, as much as I’d love to let you sleep, we have to get you cleaned up so you won’t feel unpleasant in any way when you awake. Come now my dear.” He says as he picks you up bridal style, making you giggle.

[qingxintea]

heartbreak avenue (3) || albedo x reader

heartbreak avenue (1) heartbreak avenue (2) -- tell me how, do you do this thing called living? when theres nothing more to gain. gn reader -- ignore the link below idk how tf to hyperlink on mobile but that’s ur part 4 ig

damn. imagine missing mond so much that you visit just for the vibes and accidentally become a one time vigilante for dominating over a couple abyss mages

how oddly specific!

you moment.

TO BE FAIR, you didn't mean to and also ur just strong with that 245% crit damage ugh yeah yeah get it ig

it was night time, like, idk 1am and you were in this cloak because idk look swaggy and comfortable

abyss mage went ŏ̸̡̡̹̘͉̫̬̬̭̘̙̝͐͒̆̈́̒̿̄́͠͝ǒ̸̧̺͕̣̬̝̱͈̭̭̻̮̈̏̔͆̑̀̍ǫ̵̡̜̲̭̠̤̰̹͍̣͎̤̈́̓̍͠ḩ̴̡͍̣̹̯̭̩̮̣̩̭́̔̀̍͊̂͒́̆͘͜͝͝ȃ̷̧̡̢̡̨̛̪͓̤̜͕̳̦̼͊̏̃͆̓̈́̈́̽̈́͌͐̋̚ͅh̸̡̩͍̟͕̥͚̰̰̟̮̖̪̉̈́͛͂̍̾a̸̧̢͕̙̞̳̩͈̲͉͕̒̆̎̐̎̍̀͊͘̚͝h̸̡̼͓̝͕̫̤̰̱̬̣̗͚̙̀͜ and you were like "lmao shut up"

and like it did! because you made it shut up and also mans diluc was watching in his dark knight hero thingy

of course you noticed his presence from the beginning, you just wanted to piss him off and act like he wasn't there at all

you walked. straight past him like he was actually on the bridge in the middle and you just w al ked .

i mean ofc he gonna say something. and he did. dude said "who r u"

stared at him directly in the eye and said "the embryo made of chewed bubblegum."

he stared. sh o ck ed . what were you even saying

"jk im a resident of mondstadt, visiting from my liyue trip."

"and how do i know you arent lying?"

you sighed and grabbed your dendro vision, letting him look at the frame. "its incased in a mondstadt styled frame." after a few seconds, you put it back. "if that is all, i'll be going."

"k"

"literally fuck off" you responded and walked inside.

sometimes you forget how rude mondstadt people are lmao loser.

ok so like this donna girl really went up to you like "JFKLSJFLKSDJFL NUMBER ??? HELLO ?? UMM THE WAY YOU SAVED MONDSTADT RLKDFFC" and you resisted every urge to flip her off on the spot.

you just stayed and let her talk, smiling through all of it. your hood was still on but it was quite windy s ooo

its been ten minutes. girl please let us go. you were literally begging for anyone to cut in because ur too nice (or unbothered) to tell her to shut up even though you totally went off on diluc aadahahhshdf

and someone did! not the one you expected though.

"good evening donna, and... oh? who would you be?"

ALBEDO LMAO GET STICKBUGGED? ? ? ?? AH a hjfkahfjah . im so funny .

guys i meant that ironically please

anyway

you got even more uncomfortable lmao and you just looked at him and smiled. what do you respond? "no one of importance."

he heard your voice, saw your eyes and it registered. it was you...

or was that what he wanted to believe?

cause this whole time hes been waiting for you, only using experiments as a thing to pass time. it got... a little more lonelier, because nothing could replace you.

he decided to not believe it. because 1) you knew well they welcomed you with open arms, so there would be no need to hide yourself

(which is also proof of how much the whole situation fucked up your thinking)

a second of silence before he continues on the conversation with normal evening meeting stuff things idk

then ur like "ahhshaaajk i must be taking my leave now for matters i will not disclose ahaha skidoosh"

skidoosh

so you go to the big venti statue next to the cathedral and just stand. stare. yikes

no ones out right now and theres nothing to do. but you remember this place because its where the both of yall would eat together whenever he had free time (which wasnt that often, but he still made the effort)

you look up to the sky, counting all the stars like you used to.

no ones gonna know that you're here, you decided on that. you only visited because you simply missed it, but after this, you were going back to liyue.

no ones gonna know. because no one needs to know. no one needs to know that you were here. that would only cause more trouble to the situation you tried to avoid

albedo ends up catching up to you later, still having some spark of hope left that it really was you

i mean lowkey there isnt really anything saying it wasnt. he wanted to believe that he was just overthinking when he thought it really wasnt you

like you look the same. sound the same. its just the reasoning of you coming here, but he can push that aside

"(y/n)."

you flinch but didnt react with anything else. he doesnt need to know that its you.

"(y/n)?"

you turn around to meet his eyes as he was approaching you. slightly distancing yourself another inch away as you were not used to the proximity, you responded, "i'm afraid i'm not the one you're looking for."

albedo stops for a moment, and was about to apologize,, but then

yknow that wind i mentioned earlier? like right after donna started bothering you

yeah that same wind blew ur hood off! lmao L

okay time to get serious !

you stay composed and sighed, your breath visible in the cold air.

so your features are exposed, and its so obviously you, like theres literally no way it cannot be you

"it really is you..." he doesnt understand why youre not admitting to it. "(y/n), please.."

you shake your head and walk away but mans grabs your wrist gently

"(y/n), whats wr-" he starts, but youre quick to respond

"im not (y/n)." you flat out said it and looked right into his eyes. and you swear there were small tears even if he was deemed nonchalant.

he doesnt understand, its your physical features, and your same energy, there is no other person that completely matches it.

he pulls you closer to examine this black smudge on your hand, a small yelp of surprise coming from you.

"this is... ink," he studied the properties of the substance. "you responded to my letter a day ago. (y/n)... i know by now. there's no reason to hide it."

you step away, freeing your hand from his grasp. your voice broke, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. "i'm not... i'm not (y/n). i never will be. i'll never be so vulnerable again, i'll never be so naive again, i'll never be so lonely again, i will never ever be anything like they were again."

your vision blurred, but you werent oblivious to the tears streaming down his face as well. reaching to brush them away, you paused and let it drop to his shoulder instead.

"albedo. i... the (y/n) you knew... they're gone now. and if i could revert back to them any time, i would, i swear, but... i'm al-... they..." you buried your head in your hands. "i'm broken. to the point that i refuse to identify as the (y/n) you know me by."

doesnt know what to say, so he almost pulls you into a hug before you move out of the way. something you never did.

"don't... please. it never works out in the end." you shake your head, facing the other way. "for me at least."

"..we could work together, no?" he tried, still oblivious about your feelings towards him.

"only if you're willing to cross your moral boundaries," you looked back and tilted your head. taking a deep breath, you continued, "but you know that neither of us are willing to do that."

he couldn't say anything, because as much as he hated to admit something for once, you were right about that. at this point, he would've thought that literally any extent would've been fine to reach to bring you back.

yet in multiple situations where he's doubted himself before, theres always a line he will never cross.

"...i wish you the best. treat her well because i worked hard." you walked away without him stopping you this time. i worked hard. not we worked hard.

even if you had honestly felt that way, there was no chance the old you wouldve actually voiced that.

and so he watched you slip from his grasp again, only this time, he stopped himself from holding you back from his own will.

yet he swears- the next time he meets you again, he will bring you back.

[burnedbyshoto]

good little omega

— He was an alpha, you were an omega. Can I make it anymore obvious? He was a crime boss and you were a movie star. What more can I say? Oh, he wanted you, really wanted you, but you swore you would never, ever need an alpha.

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pairing: alpha!shigaraki tomura x omega fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, abo/omegaverse, chad alpha!shiggy, virgin celeb!reader, kidnapping, drugging, sex slave auction, biting/marking, belly bulge, knotting, sex toys, heat, implied murder (lol rip shigsters last omegas), mind break, breeding, degradation, finger fucking, fucking in front of a crowd, modern world!au

word count: 6,174

a/n: this goes out to my shiggy stans. I never understood you until recently and now I blush like a schoolgirl when I see him. mondays are so busy, are they not? ive been home for 6 hours today wtf????

kinktober day 12 main kink: abo/omegaverse | kinktober masterlist

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You sat before the mirror, your eyes intently staring at your reflection. The people around you running around, chaotically bringing brushes and pencils to your face, the smell of chemicals in the air, tickling your overly sensitive nose. 

“Are we ready?! Is Y/n ready?! I don’t think she’s ready?! We need to be out of here in five minutes, people, let’s hurry it up!”

Breaking your gaze from your reflection onto your agent in the background, you sighed softly at the growing sour and distressed omega pheromones. Oh, you realized suddenly, your nose unable to keep from scrunching at the mildewy detergent scent, they were really stressed out.

Today was the night of the biggest award show one could attend as a movie star celebrity in Japan. The Motion Picture Awards gave only the most prestigious and prodigious actors and actresses their due. A night of fashion, alcohol, and nervous pheromone pumping alphas and betas in a single room to reveal who was the best this year. Working in an industry such as your own, you had become quite the living legend already at the mere age of twenty-two.

As an omega, you grew up in a society that banned you from enlisting or attempting to join the ranks of the best in just about every field of focus or study. So that even included the area of acting. Casting Directors had always said the same thing each and every time you were forced to present your secondary gender to them all when being called back for auditions.

‘Omegas can’t be movie stars, your heats are too often and too long, they cause rifts in filming schedules this project cannot afford.’

‘We have too many prime alphas on set. Our film's projected main character is an alpha, we wouldn’t want to be caught up in a lawsuit should she find you to be too… fertile.’

‘Omegas can only be good, suitable nurtures and well, mothers. This movie just seems a bit too intense for a little omega like you!’

Omegas can’t do this, omegas can’t do that. Alphas, the pride of society, couldn’t be made to hold themselves back to your alluring scent and occasional heats. Betas, the majority of the population, didn’t feel a challenge when working alongside omegas. Omegas? Well, if there were any that actually existed within the film industry, they were for sure never heard from, or seen of.

At the age of eighteen, you had nearly given up on your long aspiring desire to become the first omega actor or actress to ever grace the scene. But just as you were ready to tell your agent that you were tired of all of the same, repetitive bullshit, a gentle alpha had approached you with an exciting role in mind for you.

Movies and cinematic films had always showcased omegas as sweet, nurturing individuals. For the most part, you agreed that that’s how you omegas were. You enjoyed hugging your close friends, scenting them softly as means of a small pack you had created as none of you were mated this young, yet didn’t ever wish to be bothered by self-righteous alphas or betas. Through many, many biology courses revolving around your secondary gender, you knew that the hormones that made you an omega also affected the brain to accept and view things in a… softer light. But unlike what they taught in school, and unlike what the alphas in society knew about omegas as they could never honestly watch an omega in heat while alone, was that omegas weren’t always the most nurturing or kind.

The week before your heat, the week of, and the week following your heat, you were always irritable, angry, almost cold. You’d flash your small fangs at anyone who dared to approach you with a scent you hated, your heat room never once escaping with everything torn to shreds, and you definitely did not wish to seek any fiber of soft love.

So when the alpha male sat in front of you, a single fang poking out of his lip as he exposed his neck in a motion of vulnerability and conceding to you — the omega — you knew he was serious.

He explained to you his plan on creating a more realistic movie surrounding the brutal truths of what being a single omega was like. Films had, after all, had always depicted omegas as being mated the moment they presented and going as far as saying that there were others means to be coupled to other alphas without actually being marked. It was atrociously wrong of the omega lifestyle, and it always made your stomach curl to see that it was an alpha or a beta actor putting on the role.

But he wanted to focus on the realities. The anger, sadness, and horrors you could face as a single, unmated omega. The director raved that you were the face for that movie and had a soul that made him come seek you out. And without so much as consultation from your agent, you agreed on the spot.

The title of the film had been an ironic one. Good Little Omega was what it was called in the end.

All in all, the movie had done poorly in the eyes of the critics. Many individuals — namely alphas and betas — claimed that the depiction of omegas within the film had been horribly wrong. Omegas were never sad, never homeless, never abandoned by society! That’s what they had all cried the moment the trailer flashed with bright letters:

AND INTRODUCING: Y/L/N Y/N (Ω)

Still, the movie made billions as many went to watch it because they ‘needed to see how horrible the movie was.’ They wanted proof that omegas weren’t cut as movie stars because how could someone who was out of commission for a week every two months be proactive on set. But all they got was a cinematic masterpiece.

You had taken a claim in the industry, one while small, that hadn’t hurt that much because you were much more focused on the fact that you now were a household name. Well, that is until you were nominated for the awards ceremony you were currently about to attend, only that it was the one from four years ago.

You were the first omega actress and now the first omega nominee. You hadn’t won, but that had solidified the step you had in the door. After that, the interests to hire you in omega roles came pouring through the door.

But you were brought back to reality when the setting spray splashed against your face, your eyes fluttering when they covered your scent glands with the flesh-colored band-aids they got for you. Alphas could never complain about you being a distraction if you smelled the same as betas. 

Rising to your feet, you smiled graciously to your makeup and styling team, thanking them profusely as your agent placed her hand at the small of your back and began pushing you towards the exit.

“Goodluck!”

“Thank you!”

.

..

.

Shigaraki glared down the table of averted eyes, and his hands brought up under his chin twitched at his annoyance.

“Are you going to say anything, or are we going to remain silent?” he asked, his voice quiet yet heavy in all of their ears as they flinched. “Don’t think you’re going to get away without giving me an answer.”

The sour smell of fearful alphas should have corroded Shigaraki’s nose. It should have done something to unsettle the way that the young head sat on his black leather seat. But as a matter of fact, the young alpha had to resist the way he wanted to bare his teeth in a bloodied smile, his red eyes slit in his cruel lust for fear.

“O-Of course not, a-alpha!” croaked one of the smaller alphas down the table. Shigaraki snapped his eyes towards the yellow-haired croony, his neck exposed for the alpha, eyes refusing to look at his leader. “I-It’s just that, um, I — I mean, we don't know w-what happened to your mate!”

“I thought I gave clear and distinct instructions that you were supposed to have found them by this meeting,” Shigaraki stated, his voice somehow growing colder, meaner yet never once changing as his hands dropped from his chin to rest on the arms of his chair. He tilted his head, watching the pathetic alphas quiver like some scared, stupid omega. “Useless. Get out of here before I change my mind on killing you all where you sit.”

The crowd of alphas left quicker than Shigaraki could blink, leaving behind the reeking smell of scared alpha pheromones. 

“Tomura-kun, you killed your mate,” came the singsong giggle from behind him, and Shigaraki didn’t bother turning around, his nose and ears sharp enough to pick up exactly it was behind him. 

“They’re all a bunch of pissy lackeys,” Shigaraki simply stated, his eyes rolling as he slowly fell to the back of his chair, red eyes meeting golden ones that shone with mirth and joy. “What do you want, Toga?”

Toga leaned against the leather armrest, uncaring that Shigaraki hated his personal space invaded. The young female was an alpha, much like most of the people within this gang group, but unlike the others, she had a distinct, almost terrifying way to change the way she smelled. She could smell like anyone or any secondary gender. She often preferred to smell like an omega too. 

“We have a guest visiting us today!” Toga chirped, her fingers clasping together. “I wanted to introduce him!”

“Bring Giran in,” Shigaraki snapped, his eyes narrowing with no real malice for the alpha next to him who simply pouted at the surprise — not a surprise — being ruined. Giran reeked of cigarettes and cheap body sprays that, when wafted with his distinct omega pheromones, made Shigaraki want to throw up. “Hurry up.”

“UGH!”

Shigaraki’s mouth was set in a firm line, his eyes watching as one of his most trusted allies walked to the table, and taking a seat in the abandoned chairs as Toga purred in happiness, sitting on the armchair of Giran’s chair, arms enveloping him. 

“Shigaraki, how are you doing?” Giran smiled, the cigarette that seemed to take a permanent residence in his teeth moving with his words. “I came bearing some great news.”

“What do you have for me?” Shigaraki simply states, his eyes focusing on the letter that is unpocketed from Giran’s pockets and placed onto the table. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to sell me your omega niece again.”

Giran chuckled, looking at Toga, who was smirking softly, “I guess he still hates that joke, huh?”

“Absolutely livid!” Toga laughed.

Shigaraki growled, his mind and his inner alpha snarling at the lack of respect to the command of his question. He outranked them, outpowered them; they needed to respect his orders. 

Giran took a deep inhale of his cigarette, sliding the card over to Shigaraki, his eyes averted, but his stance still firm. “I know you go through omegas faster than a teenage boy goes through a pack of tissues, but I think this can answer the pleas you have at night.”

Observing the card in his hand, Shigaraki scowls, unsure of how to feel about the print on the invitation. 

“Say the word, and I’ll get you a seat,” Giran whispers, like a sinister god begging a mere mortal to sign over their life for something completely worthless. But Shigaraki knows his worth, and more importantly, he knows in this game he outranks Giran, who would never betray him. In the slightest. He huffs, his back hunched, and his eyes looking with subdued excitement. 

“Who else is showing up?”

Giran knows the seat will be wanted that instant.

“No one who could hold a candle to you, alpha.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“Of course not, my liege.”

.

..

.

The award sitting in your hand feels almost fake as if the entire night was nothing more than a heat-driven fever dream. You had won, had actually won the most significant award of the night that an actress could win!

“Oh my gods, okay, okay,” your agent muttered beside you. Her eyes glued to the shiny gold statue between your legs. “Well, I know your heat starts tomorrow, and I’ll leave you alone for a week. But I swear, y/n, as soon as your mind isn’t a full-blown lusty heat brained bimbo, we’ll reconvene, and we will make sure you are nothing but the greatest!”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly state, eyes transfixed on the prize that felt like it could melt away any second right now. “That sounds wonderful.”

The car you were in pulled up to your front door, and you felt meek excited the car in nothing but a silk robe and slippers. The dress you had worn that night had already been put back into a plastic bag to be returned to the stylist who had offered to style you for the night. You waved with an almost transfixed look in your eyes as you closed your front door behind you, your heart hammering as adrenaline still coursed through your veins as if you had just been declared the victor of the category yet again.

Placing the trophy onto the table, you sighed in a wondrous, dreamy way.

You had done it.

You had won.

Fuck all those directors who had ever said anything different.

Still deep in your thoughts, you almost missed the knock on your door, and you figured that you must have left something in the car. Walking back over to the front door, your nose curled at the lack of scent, was it a beta?

Opening the door, you don’t remember seeing faces or even a scent of a pheromone. A single cloth wrapped over your head, and before you could send out your painful, fearful moments-from-heat omega pheromones, you were knocked out.

Cold and lifeless, you sunk against their arms, bile rising up to your throat as you know exactly what was going on. You were being kidnapped. 

No… please not… not after all of this had happened.

.

..

.

You wake up to the sound of moving feet, sneering laughter, the feeling of coarse, hot, hands on your ass and wet, simmering tongues on your lubricated cunt. The sense is vivid. You can feel the very littlest touch on your body, the layer of scented pheromones on your glands, and slick from alphas — you know it's alphas imprinting themselves on you as a mark of a claim.

You knew about this from high school; it was an extremely outdated and frowned upon version of mating and claiming as it simply turned away any sort of pursuer who wasn’t the thick pheromone individual. You also knew it was frowned upon because if multiple individuals sought mateship with the typical omega individual, it would result in a massive, unsolvable death match. But these alphas, even with layering their scent on you so thick you thought you were turning crazy, didn’t attack. No, they took languid stripes of your fresh, intoxicating slick and growled to you, maybe, how that was how slick was supposed to be. 

You wanted to move, to kick the stupid, demeaning alphas in the snout before running away, but in a twist of horrible realization, you soon figured out that despite your alert mind, you couldn’t move your body. Couldn’t shift it even the smallest of bits. 

“I hope all you wonderful clients have been able to taste and smell your potential mates out here!” A loud, commanding introduction voice echoed from somewhere where you couldn’t see, his voice vibrating into the straps of your legs, but you couldn’t make a sound or even open your eyes. “As you know, we have such an arrangement for you all, the best of the best, really! We don’t wish to rush, but as always, all of these events are incredibly time-sensitive, so if you would, please alphas, please come and sit down, and we’ll begin bidding on our first of seven beautiful, fertile omegas tonight!” 

The words sounded foreign in your ears yet at the same time, something so familiar because this was something you omegas were always warned about. This had to be some sort of omega mate auction, and by the stench of alphas who smelled like they owned millions and killed millions, you were in no doubt somehow caught up in one of the worst ones imagined. 

Two long, completely hardened fingers suddenly entered your cunt, and as if for a single millisecond, your mind and your body were able to work in tangent, your hips bucked at the sweet feelings. Oh, your eyes tried to flutter, enjoying the way the two fingers circled the walls of your long lonely cunt.

“Please, alpha, please refrain from touching the merchandise for now, please join us so that we may begin!”

The two fingers buried within your cunt as if it was their right, slowly withdrew out of your pulsing walls, and you heard the sound of sneakers against the hardwood floor and felt relaxed and sickened at how you sort of liked it.

Heat brain, you reminded yourself. Just your stupid, horny heat brain.

You were a celebrity, you mantra, a dignified star who didn’t need a beta or an alpha unless you saw it fit. Right now, as you had repeated many times to the countless amounts of reporters who had asked, you had no interest in someone to share your heat with.

“Alright, and to start off our night in a rolling go! Please, everyone put your hands together for the fertile and beautiful thirteenth in-line the Princess of Cabodia: Dayanara!”

This auction was insane, all six omegas before you all sold from a price that ranged from 198 hundred million to the one right before you who sold for one billion dollars. You were a prideful omega, and you saw worth to your abilities, smell, and looks, but were you even worth anywhere in that range?

The entire time you had been set up in who knows what, the small, overwhelming pound of your heat sinking into the depths and pores of your body was becoming heavy. You couldn’t move a single muscle still, your body still refusing to respond to the call of your body, but the seep of your slick running down the innards of your thighs, undoubtedly beginning to pool on the ground, must be embarrassing of you. 

Suddenly someone spread the skin below your ass out, and you couldn’t react as something sharp and prick stabbed into your flesh. You howled in the surprising pain, and you were fast to find that whatever they had injected you with had allowed systematic movement within your body. Your eyes fluttered open as two, impossibly huge alphas grabbed you by your forearm and hoisted you to your feet. 

Your neck was far too weak to carry the weight of your head, so your eyes were transfixed on the white silk of the slutty dress they dressed you in. It showed off your cleavage with no regret, and by the feel and look of it, it barely passed the bottom of your ass. Your vision swam, the alphas all over the room distorted and melting within one another as you stepped onto a stage, the spotlight on you feeling deliriously hot and melting your skin.

Your hormones, already going crazy with your heat, seemed to intensify at the small of so many capable, potent, possessive alpha pheromones that suffocated the room. Handcuffs slapped onto your wrists, and you moaned pathetically at the sting of cold metal on your skin, and you obediently followed the command of one alpha to go on your knees. 

A nail slammed between the metal links of the handcuffs, practically stapling you to the wooden floor, and you whimpered at the feeling of a stuffed pillow mount being placed beneath your lower stomach. You were in a forced and easily accessible mating position with your slick and cunt exposed for all the alphas to re-smell and see. 

Moaning, you shifted against the mount, your body not able to have the full movement you needed to ward off that building, insufferable heat in your core, but nothing you could do seemed to satisfy it.

“And for our biggest prize of the night, we have the one, the only, the beautiful sensation Y/l/n Y/n!” the auctioneer roared. His voice echoing in your ear as he walked over to you, exposing your dripping cunt to the crowd of alphas who had all gotten a sweet taste of your essence already. His hand came down to slap your ass with a chuckle. “Where do we start the bidding on this one, alphas? She needs no introduction, and none of you better be pussies because we know this bitch of an omega won’t take any tiny cocks as her alpha! She needs to be broken in, fucked to submission. No one likes a trailblazer… someone needs to remind of what fucking trail she’s supposed to be on. Besides, the bitch is in fucking heat, and if you don’t claim her, I just might do it myself!”

“75 million!” someone started the bidding.

You stiffened.

“75 to the man in the back!”

“90 million!” someone challenged.

“We’re up to 90!”

“125 million!”

“Do I hear another offer?”

“250 million!”

“250 million!”

The number climbed and climbed, the same voices coming to challenge each other until finally, they rounded out to a quantity that sounded bizarre even to you. 

“950 million!”

If it had been possible for your knees to give out, you would have been collapsed onto the floor, the pool of slick that continued to lubricate your cunt without a doubt drowning you as you craved the need to be fucked by someone with undoubted alpha pheromones and cock in this room. 

“950 million?” the auctioneer repeated, his voice for sure carrying a shark-like grin. “Going once, going twice—”

“Five billion.”

The gasp in the crowd was undeniable, and the omega in you crooned, knowing that this alpha valued you and your omega to be the price of five billion US dollars. 

“Fuck!” screamed the man who had presented the 950 million deal. 

“Wowee, five billion dollars, everyone! Anyone think they can beat that?! Going once! Going twice!” The crowd remained in silence, and you shook against your restraint, the heat emitting from your cunt almost demanding to be seen and fucked through this heat week. “SOLD! The virgin celebrity, Y/l/n Y/n sold to our own Shigaraki Tomura!”

The cheers of amaze weren’t nearly as loud as the smell of reeking petty alpha.

“Come and pay up, alpha, and then you can show us… a demonstration of how you’re going to break this omega.”

“Shut up.” Shigaraku growled, his footsteps heavy in your ear as you feel him climb up the stage, and you weakly tilted your head to look at the white-haired alpha boss hand over a simple credit card before walking over to you, his eyes unreadable as he looked you dead in the eye.

He reached out a finger that raised your chin up for him to study your face, moving and tilting your head as he pleased as a small, sinister smile pressed to his lips as he dropped your head. A sharp, uncomfortable pain fell on your chin as it crashed to the floor, and you shivered at the feeling of his calloused and rough fingers running down your exposed back.

“You’re such a small omega, still stupidly tiny. I bet you’ve never thought your first knot would come from someone like me,” Shigaraki laughed, his fingers and voice ice cold. His words were soft, spoken in a way that had your omega stupidly cooing for having secret conversations with your alpha who promised to fuck you till you were carrying a litter of pups. “I hope you realize that this is real life, that I will break you, and no hero in this world will be able to fucking save you.”

“Fuck the omega!” someone from the crowd screamed, and Shigaraki glared upwards. Still, you shivered in the thought of this alpha who spent five billion dollars to make you his claiming you, fucking your stupid heat brain into mush in front of these smaller, irrelevant alphas. 

“I’ll do what I fucking please,” Shigaraki snapped, but the fingers you remembered to have been the last ones to enter your slicked crazy walls seemed to be his. They moved deep within you, curling and spreading your tight, sopping wet cavern apart, letting your pathetic, chirping cries echo powerfully in the room as lusting, near rutting alpha pheromones filled the room. “For fucks sake, omega, your pussy’s fucking tight as shit! Don’t you have any real knotted toys?”

You couldn’t respond back, your body on the road to a complete shut down at the feeling of something other than silicone deep within your body, fingering and dragging against your pheromone soaked walls.

“Alpha, y-your fingers feel so good!” you gasp, your hips thrusting backward, enjoying the way his fingernails press onto your warm velvet walls. “So good, you make me feel so good already.”

“I’ve seen you all over the news,” Shigaraki growled low into your ear. “Talking about how you didn’t want an alpha, how you never needed to feel the tightness that a fat knot could bring you, and look at you now. I’ve barely touched you, barely begun to make you mine, and yet you’re already begging for me, omega.”

Your arms tug at the handcuffs, pathetically wanting them off. Exasperatedly seeking more friction from your newly bought alpha. You can’t think straight, can’t come up with a single response except the stupid apologetic, “I’m so sorry alpha, I didn’t know i-it would be y-you!”

“Don’t be shy on her, Shigaraki! Fuck the slutty omega already! Fucking knot and claim her in front of us, I want to hear the omega whore scream. It’s always hotter when it’s the first claim ever!”

“You better learn how to shut the fuck up, or I’ll kill you for interrupting my fucking session here,” Shigaraki seethed, his red, smoldering eyes ripping from yours and glaring at some loser alpha behind you. You couldn’t care. You only wanted what looked like the growing cock in Shigaraki’s pants; you wanted to feel the cock fill up your cunt, and his knot to lock you both in place.

You drooled at the thought, your loud, whimpering cries unable to keep from pouring out as the slick from your core seemed to pour endlessly from your pussy, demanding attention and a knot. “Breed me, fill me with your pups,” you begged fingers taking in his dirty fingers in your mouth, tongue wildly and uncontrollably flicking across his fingers in hopes it would be a sinking prayer of your promise to be good. “I want your knot, alpha, I want these stupid alphas to know you’re so much better than them~!”

Shigaraki’s once snarl fell when he looked at you, a slowly growing smirk falling on his face as his lips spread into a cruel smirk, one that had you moaning around his fingers as he pinched the pink muscle in your mouth before disappearing before you.

“I smelled your distress when I put my fingers up your sloppy little cunt right before the auction happened; I could tell even with your growing heat that you hated the feeling of my fingers up your pretty pussy. But look at you now, I haven’t even set you on my goddamn knot, haven’t stretched that tiny cunt to its max. You’re smelling better than a bitch in heat,” Shigaraki growled in your ear. His clothed chest pressing deliriously into your exposed back, the huge cock outline in his pants grinding incessantly into your wet core, undoubtedly leaving a damp patch where his cock ground into you. “You’re an actress, aren’t you, little omega? I bet you just needed this audience cheering your name to break your mind over this. How. Pathetic.”

And the pressure on your tongue is gone, the drool and saliva sticky and cold on your chin as you whimper for your alpha. You promised that it wasn’t right, it was just that you had been scared before, but your alpha was so strong, his pheromones so scary and mean, he could protect you and fill you up with so many pups you couldn’t help but to be excited now.

The smell of Shigaraki seemed to brighten, and you moaned when his hands pressed the white dress up, allowing for your naked ass to be seen by him and everyone who stayed to watch. Shigaraki squeezed your asscheeks away, chuckling at the way your small asshole clenched in your embarrassment and pain at how your hormone-driven heat demanded that he fuck you and knot you now.

“So fucking wet,” Shigaraki observed, his fingertips tracing the slick on your folds before a small pop told you that he licked you clean from his fingers. “Such sweet slick too, you really are a prime omega, little one.”

You whimpered, ass shaking for him to continue to touch you, to continue to fuck you more. 

“I don’t think you’re ready for my knot, precious omega,” Shigaraki taunted, and his words were a sealing deal in your lusting mind. Your hips knocking backward in some sort of desperation for more.

“She won’t,” commented the auctioneer.

“I will!” you scream, eyes filled with painful tears that could only be resolved with your alphas knot and claim. “I can take your knot, alpha!”

Shigaraki makes a small noise, and you choke at the feeling of something huge, nearly monstrous, shift into your cunt. You were a virgin, but even you knew that it was merely the head of his alpha thick cock, not enough for you to be satisfied, not far enough in you to breed or fuck you properly. All the moans in your throat were slightly painful, and the tears in your eyes continued to fall as you rocked your hips backward, trying to sink yourself further on his cock, wanting him deep in your womb.

You craved him.

“Ah, good, you can take more,” came the airy, almost insane driven coo of Shigaraki, the lack of humor making your cunt flutter against his thick, long cock. “Cry for your alpha, little omega.”

With that, Shigaraki slammed into you with no mercy, his cock bottoming out into you with a powerful, edging thrust. You screamed in pain, tears leaking from your eyes, and even with the pool of lubricating slick, his cock was far too big, incredibly thick that you felt your inner walls splitting in two as he fucked you as if you weren’t in delirious pain.

Drool and tears covered your arms, your painted fingers digging into the floorboards with crazy strength that you clawed scars on the floor as Shigaraki rutted deep within you.

Shigaraki commanded you with every thrust he gave, and soon the omega in you was cooing, howling for more, the pain of having your virginity ripped from right under you having become bubbling, glowing pleasure. You screamed in pleasure, Shigaraki grabbing onto your rolling hips to slam you back onto his cock, allowing for his thick cock to hit deep within you over and over again. The angle and power he possessed with every thrust were almost inhumane, nothing your lonely heat filled nights could ever dream of recreating ever. Shrill moans and pleas drowned out the annoying commentary of your onlookers, Shigaraki’s chest still flushed against your back, his hips landing heavily on your ass that was at this point raised because of the mount beneath you. 

“My alpha,” you babble, eyes unfocused, hazy, and incredibly heavy as you stared at some point on the wall, overwhelmed with the feeling of Shigaraki’s hot cock pounding in you. “My alpha, such a good alpha. His cock is making my tummy feel funny, making my pussy feel so tight. Please fill me with your children, I’ll be a good omega to you and them, I promise! I promise — I — oh myyy goddd — I promise, alpha!!!”

Shigaraki puffs up with the praise, but he continued to fuck into you roughly, mercilessly, as if you were nothing more than the breeding whore omega that he had purchased you for. The wet slaps and satisfying squelches rang in the blazing heat room, the smell of the pleasured and heat insane omega saturating deeply within his nose, and in the other's nose, the prideful smell of a satisfied alpha.

Your spongy walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating, pounding cock, sometimes even forcibly because, by god, it was hot when his cock would twitch within your womb, especially against your cervix.

“Fuck, you’re so damn annoying,” Shigaraki snarled into your ear, his teeth biting and scraping along your neck, and you wailed when his teeth dragged over the sweet scent gland on your neck. The one and only place for mating bites to go. His hand gripped your hair, tugging your head back so that you could feel his rough facial skin rub up against yours. “If you want me to fill you with my pups, you better be the best fucking omega on this goddamn planet.”

“I can be the best! I’ll be the best!” you cried, your ass shifting backward to meet his drilling hips. 

The delirious sensation of his cock rocking against your cervix slowly begins to inflate the knot on his cock, restricting his still barbaric thrusting as he made to move faster. He wanted you to cum before he knotted entirely within you. 

The pressure in your stomach is scorching and impossibly tight, and he takes another long stripe at your scent gland. You tremble with need, your fingers tearing into the wooden floors. You can feel the knot on his cock swelling up, catching onto the opening of your cunt with every successive cunt, and you begin to cry, shake, and tremble as the knot becomes too big.

Your eyes cross, your tongue falling out of your mouth as you babble his name. Your walls clamp around his knotted cock with the ferocity of a vice, and your body jerks violently as you cum hard around his cock. The slick essence of your orgasm slipping out of the few lasting places open before Shigaraki’s knot fills you out entirely. Despite his cock unable to move, the swollenness of his knot preventing him from moving out of you, Shigaraki still shoves his weight into his hips, the inflated knot stretching your cock out so widely, your vision went white, and you came yet a second time.

A small pop was heard, and suddenly with a rush of thick, hot, and heavy white cum exploded within your womb, his teeth sink around your scent gland, marking you — mating you. He filled you, filled you, and filled you. His cum wouldn’t stop until your belly was swollen with his hot cum, and he eventually fell off of you with a shaky, shallow breath.

You still remained on the mount, your eyes unfocused, breaths mumbling to your alpha, a promise to carry out every single pup he gave you and would give you. You were his omega, his good little omega, and you would never disappoint your alpha. Not now, not ever.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The next week, you opened your door with a broad smile, your usual clothes replaced with a dress Shigaraki had picked for you and a frilly white apron on as your agent was standing outside of your house, eyes wide, mouth gaped at the still bleeding mate wound on your shoulder.

“Ah, how funny!” you laughed, waving your hand as you sighed dreamily, your eyes fluttering at the thought of your alpha who was on a business call right now. “I’m actually going to be quitting! My alpha and I have many plans right now, I gotta produce as many litters as I can, being an actress would never give me this sort of meaning in life!”

“B-But, you’re doing so much?! You have so much to do! You can’t give up?!”

“Oh, my love, we both know that I look much cuter with a pregnant belly! Don’t worry,” you smile, taking your agent's hand, brightly smiling at her one last time. “I’m sure all omegas will eventually find their alpha so they won’t be so depressed and angry like I was!”

Your agent doesn’t get another word in.

You slam the door in her face, your hands already resting on your belly that you knew was already growing the life of your first litter of pups. It had been known the second Shigaraki filled you up anymore.

You were a good little omega, and your alpha needed you!

[captnjacksparrow]

if you had to rank your fav naruto characters how would it go? love your blog btw!!

Hmmm... Complicated ask, anon.😂

[My personal life would be splashed here and there. Please bear with me]

Before 5 months, if you asked me about Naruto, my response would be ‘What the fuck is that?’. I absolutely had no idea such a treasure existed. For me, it started out like a blockbuster movie for the sheer variety of fights and the resulting emotions it brought within me. 

However, there was a point I stopped and thought, ‘Wait a fucking second. This resembles my family dynamics. This person is speaking the exact same lines I spoke to my parents few years ago. This person’s situation resembles mine. Did this creator a time traveler?’. Naruto is the only piece of media that gave me such feel. Am not even exaggerating, believe me. 

I really liked so many characters very much but am going to try my best to list just 10. 

The only characters I hate in this series are Danzo, Sakura and Hinata in no particular order. Meaning, I absolutely cannot see any positives in them. They are crassy, cringey and completely detestable.

FAVOURITE NARUTO CHARACTERS

10. Killer Bee

HaHaHa :-) Just seeing this character makes me smile and light-hearted.

It’s a pity that he is the only character who don’t belong to Konoha in my Top 10 rankings who was developed well apart from Gaara.

I loved him from Frame 1 onwards and I sincerely wished Team Taka should be packed up with their ass beaten up mercilessly. And that’s what happened.

Despite being a Jinchurikki, he never bothered to mind his surroundings and filled his heart with love from his over protective Brother alone was nice to watch.

He makes a great Tag Partner with Naruto next to Sasuke. No doubt.

The way Killer Bee treated Team Taka like some annoying flies and his cool and don’t care attitude was top notch. It’s not just with Sasuke, Bee treated Naruto with the same IDGAF attitude at first.

Best Moments:

Lariat punch to Sasuke (TBH, Sasuke deserved it. LOL)

Blasted off every member of Team Taka like a doll

His entire conversation and fight sequence with Kisame (Their banters and exchanges are way too hilarious)

His dynamics with his Elder Brother (God!!!! Whenever Raikage gives him an Iron Claw.... What a hilarious duo!!!!)

9. Hatake Kakashi

Kakashi was my most favourite character when I started the series for simply being ultra-cool with the way he conducted the Bell-Test and taught a valuable lesson for those bratty kids in Team 7 called ‘Team Work’. 

Best Moments:

Kakashi vs Obito Hand-to-Hand Combat (the best in the series)

Kakashi in the Gaara retrieval arc (His fight with Itachi & Deidara gave a good start to the shippuden series. His Mangekyou reveal was surprising).

Kakashi & Guy teaming up with Naruto to reveal Obito in a twisty and tragic way. (Kakashi couldn’t handle the truth at all and neither did I)

Kakashi vs Zabuza (That’s when I realized that the series was getting real serious)

8. Jiraiya

Jiraiya was my next favourite to Kakashi during my Part 1 days. His open perversion and his entire dynamics with Naruto was one of the best things during the Chunin Exams arc. Taught Naruto about Chakra Control and about the way of a shinobi by just enduring. Naruto follows this even today.

Best Moments: 

Kuchiyose No Jutsu training (Man, I never expected him to push Naruto off the cliff)

Rasengan Training (One of the best arcs in part 1 and it was soo satisfying to see Naruto punching his first Rasengan on Kabuto, He also acted like a quasi parent to Naruto... heartwarming)

Jiraiya Vs Six paths of Pain ( 6 vs 1 was always doomed but still he had the guts of a shinobi and plunged ahead)

7. Uchiha Madara

Geez. What is there to not like him?? 

Everything he did was absolutely wrong ever since he broke up with Hashirama in a romantic way much similar to how couples break up in my country.

I am an Uchiha. You are a Senju. I wish it had been different.

This roughly translates to how 75% of lovers break up and marry someone else from their own clan in my state. (Duh!!!)

I am from XXX clan, you are from XXX clan. So we can’t love each other and my parents won’t accept this relationship. So let’s break up.

Alright, my first shipping couple in this series is HashiMada for this exact reason. (I started shipping SNS only after episode 478). 

Just like Hashirama, Madara had an extensive build up right from episode 1 where Kurama compares Sasuke with Madara. And flashbacks from Itachi and Tobi spiked my curiosity and I wanted to see his face so badly ever since.

But the moment he landed gracefully like a diva in episode 321.... Woaahhhh!!!! He literally danced in the battlefield and ate up 100′s of guys with just a fucking Sharingan. 

Best Moments:

Going Shirtless before 1000′s of people with Hashirama’s face, no less (Well, I literally went heart-eyed for 5 minutes. Sorry Sasuke, your ancester was way much sexier than you in the Orochimaru hideout and beats you by a million points).

Screaming Hashirama’s name like a cockatoo for 300 times even till the very end (Sorry Naruto, your obsession towards Sasuke for about 6 arcs is pale in comparison to Madara’s obsession which was established in just 6 or 7 episodes.)

I have 25 clones now. Do you want me to put Susanoo or not? You can’t answer. The answer is yes. (Man, his I don’t give a fuck attitude is just an alien level thing)

Openly admitting Only Hashirama Can Beat Me (Say what you will about Sasuke, Madara has no qualms about accepting his inferiority in terms of power. An absolute Straight Forward diva-queen)

Awakening Sharingan for breaking up with his ‘friend’ rather than for his 3 dead brothers. (Geez, Poor Soul. He is the forefather of a Romantic Uchiha. That romantic blood still flows in Sasuke)

6. Senju Hashirama

Man, I would have placed him somewhere in top 5 if only he was introduced early or had more scenes. I started watching Naruto only because of this very name. There is a local podcaster in my state who goes under the alias of Senju Hashirama and in his podcasts, he hinted about this character and how he was inspired by his ideals. I just googled and saw that this character belonged to Naruto series and I considered watching it. Here I am, making analysis on that very series.

There was this excellent build up for him right when we got introduced to Captain Yamato. He was constantly referred in flashbacks from Itachi and Tobi especially.

But the moment he was reanimated again..... Geez..... It was an hilarious ride all throughout. Out of all the flashbacks we got from this series, Founders Era flashback was my absolute favourite.

From where I come from, we are still under the stupid influence of Clan infrastructure and are not growing up in many aspects like people in western countries do. For me, I hope, one day, someone like Senju Hashirama appears in our state and change our lives for better by uniting all clans as one and treats everyone equally without the shitty favouritism for their own children, friends, parents, siblings.

That’s why this dialogue struck a thunder in my heart

“Be they a friend.... Be they a sibling.... Be it even my own child. I will not forgive anyone who threatens the village.”

Because the clan leaders in our place are absolutely selfish, trash bastards who serves their own needs with no regards for other people from other clans. For a person like me, Hashirama is not just a fictional hero, he is someone who many aspires to become. No wonder that podcaster chose this name as his alias.

He rightfully deserved the title ‘God of Shinobi’. And no one can surpass him, not even Naruto.

Best Moments:

Wood Style vs Eternal Mangekyou sharingan + Kurama powered Madara (He just beats Madara’s ass by a wide margin. This shows he was a whole fucking different level than Naruto + Sasuke combined. In terms of strength, nobody surpassed him YET. Sorry Naruto and Sasuke, you guys are no match even now with your Rinnegan and Kurama lost forever).

His entire banters with Madara (ROFLLLL. Without him, it would have been just another lifeless arc.)

5. Senju Tobirama

Hmmm, let me tell you something about him.

First off, he is not a racist or fascist as many hardcore Sasuke fanatics claims. He is one of the best hokages according to me. He is abso-fucking-lutely practical, rational, logical and holds no grudge. And Sasuke resembles Tobirama with all these characteristics as compared to soft and naive Naruto. If only he had more screen time, he would be easily in my top 3. 

Just because he didn’t lick the boots of Uchiha (many people’s favorite clan or may I say the only clan that was given any shit about in this series), it doesn’t make him a racist or fascist.

No, he never persecuted the Uchihas. Danzo, the crass bastard, driven off the Uchihas only after the Kyuubi incident. It was explicitly mentioned in the databook and was clearly explained in the series. 

He literally gave the highest position in the village for the entire clan. That is, a military power inside a military village. ‘Shinobi who can cause crimes can only be stopped by shinobi who are even better’. In my state, if a powerful clan decided to persecute another clan, they simply start by cutting off basic amenities like Water and Electricity. Compared to what I’ve seen, Tobirama did nothing but given the Uchihas, the highest position in their village. 

Orochimaru only said giving such a power made them conceited (arrogant). Tobirama had a trusted subordinate called Kagami, an Uchiha in his team. He suggested Kabuto to help Sasuke and even teleported him on his request. He even spited Madara for killing Sasuke, an Uchiha. He openly claimed Uchiha clan exceeds Senju in terms of Love. He openly appreciated Itachi and Kagami as someone who sees beyond their clan. In what world, would a racist or fascist do all this for a clan he hates??? 

Yes, he was cautious of Sasuke at first because he saw him with Orochimaru and even went full-on battle mode because of Sasuke’s carefree threat to destroy the village. But once he decided to go to the battlefield to fight Madara, he simply forgot everything that happened before and started to work with him as a comrade, and even helped him twice. In which world, a racist or fascist behave this way?

Believe me, a person like me who was grown with these clan politics surely can say who is a fascist. He was not. He was just cautious of them because of their ability to attain superpowers with just emotions alone. Let me ask you all this, ‘Would you be okay with people getting crazy powers whenever they are depressed?’. Being cautious is not racism. It really disrespects people who faced real oppression under fascism.

What Madara and Danzo did was a classical example of fascism. 

And No, Izuna didn’t die only because of Tobirama. He died because Madara was too arrogant to instigate war with Senju clan. And this was way before forming Konoha. If Tobirama killed Izuna after the alliance between Uchiha and Senju, I would agree that he was a racist. Izuna lost his life just like any other Uchiha and Senju soldiers in that battlefield. 

Just because he shitted your beloved ‘Sasuke-Kun’ doesn’t mean he is a racist too. Tobirama saw Sasuke along with that scoundrel Orochimaru who once used this very two hokages to destroy the very village they strived hard to create and protect. What will you do, if you were in his place?? Please don’t lie and say ‘I wouldn’t be judgemental’. 

And Imagine you are Tobirama, Sasuke is threatening to commit genocide against the entire village who had no idea about this coup detat instead of going against those old hags. Will you sit quiet as a Hokage?? 

He was the first person to suggest his brother, Itama, that Revenge against Uchihas are futile. All we need is an agreement to make truce. That gave the idea for Hashirama to pursue his dream. And Tobirama was happy to follow that dream and very supportive. 

It’s because of all these reasons I placed him above Senju Hashirama.

Best Moments:

Amazing power display against Sasuke & Co with just an index finger (It was a pleasure to see everyone’s face trembling with mild sweat including Sasuke).

Acted as a decoy to save his young subordinates. (The way he sacrificed his life saying young wills of fire must be protected is just Woow!! I wish his subordinates listened to his words and passed the mantle to the younger ones rather than playing game at such an old age and screwed up many lives. Pfft!!!)

Any time he says ‘Shut Up’ to Hashirama (ROFL)

His absolute ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude to Naruto, Sasuke, Hashirama, Minato and Madara (He trolled them all mercilessly and I love it)

4. Senju Tsunade

It hurts me to say that Tsunade is the only female character in my list because every other female characters were written in a much more piss poorly way. Only Konan came close to Tsunade but her role was very short. 

Despite her character’s purpose revolved around another male character (Dan) and a blatant objectification of her breasts, I liked everything about her other than those mentioned above. 

She is the Second Best Hokage who took Konoha right after the destruction made by Orochimaru, excellently handled the aftermath by making friendly relations with Suna (Sand village), provided her best medical support to Konoha in the Pain Arc and successfully handled the fourth Shinobi world war. 

She is such a badass who developed her own original jutsu called Byakugou no Jutsu, which can heal herself. 

She is just way too amazing and it’s a pity that we got very less scenes in Shippuden.

Best Moments:

Took 25+ stabs from Madara’s Susanoo like a piece of cake (Man, I simply couldn’t describe that scene. All the other Kages were shocked and even Madara too)

Lifted her advisors like a cabbage sack (Those fucking old hags deserved it. Those shits should’ve died)

Her index finger flick assault on Naruto (Aww, Naruto was definitely bratty in his first meeting and Tsunade didn’t hold back at all)

Played Orochimaru like a basketball (In that same arc, she fought Orochimaru mercilessly like a devil left and right. Someone who claimed to have surpassed Tsunade never even dared to fight Orochimaru’s student and crying for his attention after just receiving one stab from Madara. Just saying)

3. Uzumaki Naruto

Naruto is the titular character and your emotions evolve along with him. He surely deserves a spot in Top 3. The only reason I didn’t place Naruto even more higher is because he didn’t experience something very important which many characters in this list faced. That is, Losing a loved one before his eyes. Every villain in this series became what they are because they lost someone important before their eyes like Nagato, Obito. (Nope, I don’t count Neji as his loved one). I think this tests the mettle of any character and Naruto failed to experience this. The only person he ever lost was Jiraiya and that too from off-screen. That’s why I felt his journey to his dreams seemed little easier compared to the rest of the characters.

His best block of episodes will always be the part 1 Episode 1, 2, 3. Episode 1 is the character defining episode for Naruto and what he learned there will be applied everywhere till the very end of the series. He learned 3 things

Forgiveness, Empathy and Acceptance

Talk-No-Jutsu

Kage Bunshin no Jutsu

From then on, this boy wins many friends to his side, not only from Konoha but from other villages too and even made them to acknowledge his strength only through his sheer hard work. 

However, there is this person, whose acknowledgement he wants the most.  That person is his most important bond along with Iruka Sensei. He is none other than Sasuke. One day, Sasuke left him alone for some unavoidable reason at the end of part 1 which left a huge scar in him and he vows to bring him back to the place where he belongs. That becomes his ultimate goal rather than becoming an Hokage.

The way he goes to any extent to protect the people he cares about is just simply entertaining to watch.

Every time he makes an heroic entry to save the day was never boring, not once. 

Best Moments:

Sobbing from his heart after hearing Iruka Sensei acknowledging him (It just makes me feel heavy for no reason. The anime team did an awesome job to capture his emotions convincingly)

Awakening Kyuubi Mode for the first time after seeing Sasuke die in his arms (Man, out of all the collective hatred he got from the villagers, this moment affected him a lot speaks volumes)

Punching Neji from the underground to win the Chunin exams (God, I honestly believed Naruto lost but he just surprised us heavily from nowhere. And that failure speech was just pure bliss to watch even today)

Pain Vs Naruto (One of the best arc for Naruto. Because unlike other arcs, where Naruto fought with a team, this arc he was all alone fighting a person with Rinnegan. Be it the exuberant landing from the frogs with a dramatic kabuki music, creating multi-step attacks, coming up with novel solution in that difficult situation, finally ending the conflict without killing the enemy, becoming an hero. Superb journey. The only thing I didn’t like in that arc is some shitty selfish proposal. PUKE!!)

Bearing the burdens of his most important person and die along with him (This boy always shouts he will never die until he becomes an Hokage. But for Sasuke, he was ready to die along with him in order to not leave him alone proves how much he loves him. This shows his emotional maturity rather than shouting at Sasuke like he always did before which never reached his ears. This time it did)

Final Good Bye to Minato (Honestly, I was bawling just like Naruto in that scene no matter how many times I watch it. It started out slow but as he speaks more and more, he simply couldn’t hold back and wept a sea of tears 😭😭😭)

2. Uchiha Sasuke

One of the well written characters in this series, with all the flaws and positive stuffs which makes him more of an Anti-Hero. He always subverts my preformed opinions and never ceased to surprise me.

Despite being aloof and cold, his warmer side will always be exposed towards Naruto. This is evident by many things he had done for Naruto which he don’t have to or no reason to. Starting right from roasting Sakura, offering lunch, asking for tips, enquiring about breakfast, protecting him many times and dying for Naruto. 

Why I placed him above Naruto is because of his unavoidable decision to tread in a complicated dark path primarily due to the trauma he carried and was stirred up again by collective factors such as Orochimaru’s cursed seal, Itachi’s arrival and Naruto’s growth. Compared to Sasuke, Naruto had an easier path because he never saw anyone die before his eyes and hence he don’t carry any trauma which can divert his path.

Even after watching his entire clan and family members murdered before his eyes at an age 8, he managed to pull himself and never snapped out like many other good characters does. But the moment when he found out that Itachi was good all along, he simply couldn’t tolerate the truth and gave himself to Vengeance. Because, he loved his brother more than he hated him all these years. This shows he loved his brother more than his parents. His resolve to destroy Konoha was perfectly understandable. But is it good? Nope. He can kill Danzo and those old hags but killing other people was never justifiable.

But still, his resolve to have his vengeance was diverted by Naruto and weakened by Itachi, at some point. So, he decided to know the truth and when he heard it, he understood the Hokages also sacrificed many precious things to protect this village just like his Brother Itachi. He understood the mistakes of his clan and decided to protect the village which he swore to destroy. [Many Sasuke fanatics think that he succumbed to the Government and Kishi wrote Sasuke to bootlick them. Their idea was to tackle genocide with another genocide. What a stupid idea!!!!]

And No, I don’t consider him trying to kill Sakura, Karin and Kakashi as his bad moments (though I feel bad for Karin). For the simple reason being, he became a monster by losing himself in the darkness who lost the rationality to differentiate friends from foes. Much similar to how Naruto lost himself to Kyuubi’s hatred against Orochimaru and in Pain Arc. It’s so hypocritical to ignore Naruto and accuse Sasuke here. Plus, Sakura had no business to be there otherwise Sasuke would not have tried to kill her. 

But does it mean Sasuke did nothing wrong???

Nope.

He definitely shouldn’t have joined Akatsuki and hunted Killer Bee like an animal. Because, he knew that Tobi was the one who helped Itachi massacre the clan. When fighting Itachi he specifically vowed to kill Madara (Tobi). On top of that, Itachi passed on Amaterasu in his eyes specifically to stay away from Tobi. Why did he ally with him? Plus, Sasuke was one of the few characters who was exposed to the name ‘Akatsuki’ in part 1 itself. He clearly knew that this organization targets Naruto, his closest bond. Why did he join there? This is where the stupid part of Sasuke came out. I was grunting... ‘Oii Where did that clever Sasuke, who faced 1000 soldiers without killing any of them, went??’. 

And his plan for Revolution???? I thought it would be reasonable. But his vision was eerily similar to Danzo’s vision. Grrr..... Danzo also wanted to create his ideal village by destroying the current Hokage. He wanted to unite the Five Village and put himself on top of everyone as evident from the Kage Summit arc. 

I appreciate him that he finally adopted the Will of Fire, by wanting to protect the village at all costs just like Itachi and Hashirama did. But his methods are not very democratic. Plus, he wanted to do it alone. I was screaming at him... ‘Grrr, Sasuke, did you listen to Itachi at all???. He failed because he did everything alone. Why can’t you understand????’ This is also another instance, Sasuke’s stupidity glanced out.

I am happy Naruto knocked some sense into him by telling him not to do it alone but together.

Many fanatics also ask, ‘What did Sasuke do wrong to atone for his sins at the end?’.

I was like ‘Reallly????’

He joined Akatsuki, an organization which terrorized all the 5 villages and he hunted someone like an international criminal.

He spoiled the Kage Summit and attacked Raikage who lost his arm because of him. I know what happened over there is not Sasuke’s fault. But these are the kages who was loved by many people in their own villages. How can the world forget it and simply let him go?

It’s exactly because of all those lovely stuffs he did in Part 1 and all these mistakes he did in Part 2 but willing to correct his mistakes by sharing the burdens of his other half in the end made him more interesting, complicated and exciting and that’s why I love this character.

I also have a personal bias to love this character sooo much because of the character on top of my list.

Best Moments:

Defending Naruto before Sakura (Awww!!! Such a good boy he was. Eventhough I thought he was a typical arrogant K-Drama hero, he just subverted my opinion in that one scene. I always have a thing for people who stands up for someone even though they don’t have to. This is where I started to like Sasuke)

My body moved on its own. (Is there anything that trumps this scene in terms of emotions and love in this series?. This moment is where I understood the depth of Sasuke’s emotions towards Naruto).

What is a Clan? What is a Village? What is a Shinobi? (I was really hoping for Sasuke to question himself something similar to this. Because he was so self-absorbed in his hatred and failed to look outside him ever since he left the village. It was so gratifying that he did that)

Killing Orochimaru (I always thought Sasuke will kill him only after he tries to take over the body. Never imagined that he will strike the snake first)

Killing Danzo (Man, what an amazing battle!!!. It was so gratifying to see such a crass bastard die many times over and over).

His dramatic confession through his monologue (After the mystery of Who is this Tobi, Sasuke’s obsession towards Naruto remained a mystery for me. Why did he listen to Naruto under the bridge? Why did he protected Naruto in the War? I got the answer only after this confession. It was so heartwarming to see this mellow side of Sasuke)

1. Uchiha Itachi

I could write pages about him. The foremost reason I like Itachi and earns the top spot in my rankings is because he shockingly resembled me in many ways. As I already said, I come from a place where clan politics plays a major role and when I see Sasuke’s flashback in part 1, I was simply dumbstruck by such a detailed similarities.

Elder child of the family - ✅

Have an adorable younger sister who loves me more than my parents - ✅

Same age gap (5 years) with my sister as Itachi and Sasuke - ✅

Parents paying total attention on me while ignoring my sister completely - ✅

Parents constantly comparing my achievements with my sister - ✅

A sister who bear hugged me every time I entered the home after returning from my school - ✅

Despite my mom being a teacher, my sister always prefers me to teach her stuffs as she considers me to be way too better than my mom -  ✅

Love my sister more than my parents - ✅

Clan-Obsessed parents - ✅

Used me as a tool for the benefit of the clan - ✅

Sending another person from my clan to spy on me - ✅

Strained relationship with my parents - ✅

Disgusted with my clan - ✅

Most importantly, this dialogue from part 1 episode 129,

Clan? Clan?

Obsessed with the organization, Obsessed with the clan, Obsessed with the name, that’s merely the detestable action that restrict yourself.

I have given up all hope in this worthless clan

Because, people obsess themselves to their clan, a thing so petty, they lose sight of the things that are truly important.

A real change cannot occur under restraints and controls

I confronted my parents with the exact same dialogue (almost 98% similar) in my own native language some years ago. 

I didn’t even know the existence of Naruto series at that time. I was simply shell-shocked by all these similarities with this character. 

And Yes, The moment I heard these dialogues, I knew Itachi, was a good guy, who had a very strong reason for his actions and I instantly knew Sasuke’s revenge will not bear him any happiness. 

It is exactly because of all these striking similarities of myself with Itachi, and my lil’l sister with Sasuke, my family dynamics with the Uchiha family.... I could understand the magnitude of Sasuke’s love towards Itachi. 

And precisely because of that, I could understand Sasuke’s love towards Naruto is not fucking ‘brotherly’ one but something that leans towards Attraction. 

No wonder, Itachi left Sasuke in Naruto’s care. 

Anyways to speak objectively, 

Itachi is an extremely self-sacrificial person whose life is full of pain and miseries but never blames it on the world unlike other Uchiha members like Madara, Obito and Sasuke to an extent.

He did things considering the bigger picture which never benefitted himself in anyway and was willing to go to any extent even at the expense of his own family and his brother’s happiness. That is, Uchiha Clan Massacre and Joining Akatsuki. None of this benefitted him in anyways but he did it anyway, for the village of Konoha. 

His ideals are shockingly similar to Hashirama, Which Sasuke pointed this out and Hashirama acknowledged that Itachi was a better shinobi than he was. ❤️❤️❤️

Now, does this means I support Uchiha clan massacre?

No way. Even Itachi didn’t.

This massacre happened because of the huge clusterfuck from Hiruzen’s incompetence, Danzo’s paranoid arrogance, Uchiha clan’s devious plan to over throw the government by force rather than approaching it in a peaceful way, say, a peace talk or a protest. 

All these people acted on their own self-interest. Itachi and Shisui caught in their whirlpool, bear their burdens and paid for it with their life. Sasuke suffered for it.

But, it’s not the only reason I love this character. It’s because, the moment he decided to massacre everyone, he marked his own death by the hands of his beloved brother. I love people who owns up their mistakes and face the consequences rather than making excuses (even though it’s not entirely his mistake).

Itachi is also the only character in this series who realized his failures on his own without anyone’s interference or Naruto’s Talk-No-Jutsu. 

And he apologized for everything he did to Sasuke.

Again, some hardcore Sasuke fanatics criticize/hate him for torturing their poor ‘Sasuke-Kun’ with his Tsukuyomi. I was like ‘Hmmm...What?’. 

First off, Itachi apologized to Sasuke for not thinking out from his point of view and also for not telling him the truth earlier.

Second off, Sasuke never even blamed Itachi for anything (even he didn’t hold him for killing their parents). If Sasuke himself, forgiven Itachi... Why are his fans being so rabid?

Third off, for all of his supposed ‘crimes’, he paid for it by dying as a disgraceful Madman rather than a Hero who really saved the village. He is someone who should be celebrated like Naruto but instead died proudly as a Traitor of Konoha.

All in all, One of the wonderfully written character I have ever seen in the media. 

Best Moments:

Itachi vs Sasuke (That battle was a pure brilliance and highly emotional especially after knowing the truth. When Sasuke released his Kirin, Itachi showed off his ultimate armour Susanoo like a badass. Seeing Susanoo for the first time gave me chills. No, Sasuke didn’t kill him. Itachi died on his own)

Itachi vs Orochimaru (Man, Itachi may look mellow but when it comes to Orochimaru he is a pure Sass. He screwed that snake up both the times by a wide margin. It seems Uchiha brothers like to fuck up Orochimaru, LOL)

Talk-No-Jutsu’ing Naruto (Geez, Naruto was being completely bratty and was full of saviour complex like he was going to bear everyone’s hatred by himself. I was almost annoyed. Thanks to Itachi, he realised. Probably he is the only character to shut Naruto using his own jutsu)

Izanami’ing Kabuto (Other than Naruto, he is the only character to go out of his way to empathize with a villain and put extreme effort to change him. I think this is why Sasuke loves Naruto, for seeing these similarities??? ).

Goodbye to Sasuke (The first time when he said ‘Forgive me, Sasuke. This is the last’ by poking his forehead and finally closing the distance by butting with Sasuke’s head softly saying ‘I will love you always’.... It always evokes uncontrollable tears in me, no matter how many times I watch it 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭)

HONOURABLE MENTION

Uchiha Obito

God, Am such a sucker for Uchiha guys individually, though collectively as a clan they fucked up big time. I simply couldn’t find the place for him in the top 10. He is a classic example of What Naruto will be like if he becomes a villain?

However, all those horrible stuffs he did just for a girl whom he had a crush on which was never reciprocated seems childish. That’s why I couldn’t put him in Top 10.

And his understandable but weird obsession on Naruto was always enjoyable to watch. 

One cute thing I liked about him was, whatever criminal stuffs he may have done, he was never a cheapskate though. He had every chance to take back Kakashi’s Sharingan to activate his own Susanoo. But he never even thought of such an idea. He was a bad guy. But a good friend, no matter what. 

Pure Baby!!! But lost his way!!!

Best Moments:

Importance of Team Work (’In the ninja world, Those who break the rules are  scum. But those who abandon their comrades are worse than scum’. This very legacy he left to Kakashi came to defeat him later. And Naruto follows this motto even today)

Sacrificing his Sharingan (’I am giving you my Sharingan. No matter what the villagers say, you are a great Jonin. Please take it’. Awww!!! Obito. He left his Sharingan which helped Kakashi to complete a jutsu called ‘Chidori’, which is a go-to jutsu of Sasuke)

Thanks for the ask, anon. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this. ❤️

[voidcat]

— take me home

Characters: Dazai Osamu/gn!reader (+agency members)

Genre & wc: fluff — 1.9k

a/n: happy Valentine’s Day!!! Normally I was gonna make this one big thing but my writing style for all this so far and “the second part” don’t carry the same vibe. (Also it was getting v long) Anyways, enjoy. I still suck at naming fics. — part 2 !!

“You could feel the bomb going off and suddenly-“ Doctor Yosano stops looking at the clock, “Oh it’s been that long already? I shouldn’t keep you waiting for any longer” she motions with her hand to you with a smile.

“It’s alright, I enjoy hearing your stories.” You smile back. “If it’s alright with you and no new cases show up, would you like the finish the story tomorrow at my place? Maybe over a cup of tea or a glass of wine?”

The glint in her eyes tell you the answer long before. “Only if the infamous pastries Ranpo cannot get enough of are there!” Yosano says with enthusiasm and all you can do is nod and share the excitement.

As she proceeds to get her coat and bag, you decide to wait until you hear someone else speak up.

“I thought you didn’t like to have people over?” Atsushi asks standing behind you with a stack of papers and files.

Eyes closed, you hum “True, true… But I make an exception for some, dear. Where did you think we baked all those for Kyouka?”

Stopping for a second to recall that day Atsushi scratches his head. The moment of realization comes to him fast, apparent from the sudden change of expression and the wide smile on his face “Oh! You’re-“

“I thought you didn’t allow anyone in the kitchen!” Ranpo exclaims rather loudly, slamming the newspaper he was reading moments ago onto his table.

Tilting back and forth from where you’re standing and occasionally looking for Yosano to come back, you turn to where his voice came from. “That rule only applies to you, I’m afraid. No matter what an amazing detective you are, cooking and baking simply aren’t your forte.” With one hand in the air as if offering the plainest of truths, you say.

“However you’re still my most trusted taster, so please don’t make that face?” You finish with an apologetic smile and hearing a low rumble coming from him, you let out a breath thinking you’re off the hook.

You thought wrong.

As Yosano’s heels clank against the surface, you can feel a persistent gaze on your back, already sensing what’s to come next. Before you can make an attempt to the door however, Dazai announces your name, in a whine no less, coming a little too closer than you expected right behind your ear.

Slowly turning back to see his smug face, right in your personal space just as you guessed, you refrain from rolling your eyes. “What was it Dazai? Is something the matter?”

Coming all the way from wherever he was previously , he couldn’t be here now for anything other than to bother you. You just hoped Yosano would show up and drag you away before your patience was tested again.

Raising his arm and resting the back of his hand against his forehead, eyes closed and mouth open, as if a he were a character straight out of a tragedia, Dazai opts for the dramatic route. “Yes! I’ve just been informed of horrifying news!”

“Which is?..” you leave the statement unfinished, already knowing what’s to come.

“That you never invited me over to your house! And we’ve been friends for the longest time! What our live have come to, have we driven so far away from ea-“

“Enough with the antics Dazai, we’re busy, can’t you see?” Your savior, Yosano cuts in putting a hand over your shoulder. Turning to look at her, you mouth a ‘thank you.’, and you think she has never looked as beautiful as she does in this moment now, with the golden sun behind her setting, the lights illuminating her face, making her look like those heroes painted to be immortalized.

As you step out, you hear Yosano stop and say: “And for the record, I’ve known them the longest.”

The day spent with Yosano goes better than you could accept. By the end your face hurts from laughing, your stomach full from all the food and drinks you’ve consumed, times flies away like a plane and by the time Yosano makes way to the door, it’s dark and you’re both dragging your feet.

Despite the enjoyable day off, Dazai’s recent behavior starts to make you question if it was worth inviting her over so publicly.

At any chance he gets, he tries to get you to give away something about your location, who has been over before and how many times, what type of hosts you prefer and ‘oh maybe we never got the chance because of our schedules, you should invite me over some time’, ‘don’t be so shy, we’re friends after all! Oh is it your place you’re ashamed of? Worry not, I won’t judge!’, ‘hey are you free on a Thursday night?’s met with ‘No, I don’t want you over.’, ‘Yes, I have a very good reasoning.’ And almost a slip up of a ‘I’m free- Oh wait, I have a date with Sergio, sorry no can do!’.

For each cheeky smile he offers, you give back a grunt or a snarl, one time almost yelling right in front of the director and another time you stomp out of the office in fury while Atsushi watches in horror.

Fifth time of your hiding in the café and you find yourself wishing for a crisis to surface, the carefree Dazai to be replaced by the serious and logical man that manages to impress you no matter how hard the case, counter measure after counter measure, even if he takes reckless risks once in a while.

Inhaling the sweet smell of your tea before taking a sip, your wish seems to have come true partially, from the set of steps approaching you in a determined yet unrushed pace.

Taking a long sip, savoring the taste and the warmth of it, you slowly place the cup down and open your eyes to see Dazai standing in his neutral and calm state.

The two of you stay like that for a while, like a photograph, the café empty and the mixed smells of coffee and tea lingering in the air, not quite looking at one another but not dozed off either.

When he opens his mouth, it doesn’t feel like the moment has been broken, not even a clearing of throat or a quite mumbling under his breath beforehand, yet his voice flows along the smells despite the absurdity of the topic of conversation.

But you beat him to it. “If you’re going to be standing for so long, you might as well sit down.”

He settles down as you reach for your cup again.

“So, how are things with Sergio?” He says the name with a hint of hostility.

It takes everything in you not to spit out your tea laughing. “Sergio is a street cat I take care of.”

Composure and crossed arms off, Dazai’s eyes widen. “But- you said that-“ “A date with Sergio, yes, for his yearly check up at the vet.” You finish for him.

“That was just an excuse to get you to stop bothering me.” You add.

“Fair enough, I deserved that.” He chuckles “but you did mention you had a very good reasoning for not inviting me over. I know I pestered you enough about that…” he trails off, reaching for your hand with his. “And yet, would you be so kind to tell me why?” he asks, eyes locked into yours.

“My cat doesn’t like you.”

And this, you think, is the exact moment the atmosphere is ruined, the photograph ripped apart in the middle.

Dazai just stares at you, still holding your hand.

Blinking few times, rather unimpressed, you notice a waitress by the counter, probably there to rearrange something.

“Alright, I’ll be off now if that’s all!” You say a bit too cheerfully, pull your hand before Dazai can do anything, pay and leave as soon as you can.

Dazai just blinks, hands still in the air, stays frozen like that until Kunikida drags him back to work.

Bad decision after bad decision seems to follow you wherever you go because after that interaction at the café, it gets worse.

You thought Dazai was like a fruit fly before? It gets more irritating than an army of them. And on top of that, Kunikida scolds you to undo whatever you’ve done on Dazai, his already poor work ethics now on the floor, getting on Kunikida’s nerves and yours.

Hearing your name spreads terror in you now, the second your ears catch the familiar tone of Dazai’s voice, you fleet for your life.

Coming clean and explaining your statement from earlier would be the logical way to end this but fate disagrees as it laughs you in the face.

“Why wouldn’t your cat like me? I didn’t even step foot into your place before!”

“Hey Dazai, remember the day you wouldn’t get off my back? Trying to embrace at any chance and I gave up in the middle of the day at one point?” Resting his hand under his chin to think, as if his face doesn’t make it obvious he remembers the day crystal clear, he lets out a “hmm…”

With a snap of fingers and a “Ah! I remember now! You were so comfortable, I almost fell asleep.” He grins.

With a shake of your hand, trying to dismiss the memory of how he basically trapped you to the couch, you cough and continue. “That evening, when I got home, my clothes must have reeked of your smell.” He nods, good, so far he seems to follow. “My cat just sniffed the air once and stayed in the living room until I washed those clothes and took a bath.”

Hands resting on his hips, he keeps nodding and humming in understanding. “I see…”

You let out a breath, thank god it’s over.

“Nope! Still makes no sense.” Hs exclaims suddenly, turns away and leaves. You just stare at his back, now it’s your turn to blink in ‘unbelievable, is this real?’

The loud chatter and pestering doesn’t stop however and with each word, it gets more ridiculous.

“Is your cat perhaps jealous of me? That you secretly love me and they don’t want competition?”

“The cat is just another excuse, isn’t it! Admit it, you have a secret! It must be something you’re afraid I won’t like.”

“Is it Chuuya? Did you take pity and let him rent a room?”

“I don’t even know a Chuuya…”

“Maybe a weird collection…” he gasps and says your name. “Are you a hoarder? Is that why you won’t let me in? I told you already, I would never judge your lifestyle!”

“Dazai, please stop-“

“No, no, I got it this time. It’s a shrine of me! Isn’t it? Your face tells it all, it is a shrine! Ah, I must say I’m flattered, if not a little scared now.”

If anger could set a fire, you think Kunikida would be arrested of arson right now. You just rest your head in your palm, trying to ignore Dazai’s ongoing nonsense.

“Is there really a-“ Kenji begins a question as Ranpo ends it with a firm “Nope!”

Getting up from your place at last, you grab Dazai by his coat and drag him out.

“There is No shrine, no other human, no hoarding or weird collections. It’s just me and my cat who scrunches his nose when I bring home a file that sat in your desk all day!”

Before giving him a chance to reply, you walk away.

The next day, and many other days to follow, goes uneventful, Dazai’s never ending bickering about your house seems to have reached a stop. Everyone, especially Kunikida, enjoys the newly achieved peace of going back to normal. You hope this marks the end of this whole nonsense, and that the Dazai everyone knows with a little mix of annoying and impressively serious has returned back to his sense of regular.

Tags: @atsumusdomain @celosiiaa @ywanfen

[rainyday-deer]

I’ve been playing Story of Seasons: Pioneers of Olive Town and I have..... Thoughts™

Some light spoilers.

I can’t call it a bad game, I’m having fun, but it’s not.... Good, either.

The character customization is FANTASTIC, imo. I really like a lot of the options, and the ability to change the color of your individual eyes is pretty neat! I’ve really enjoyed the addition of being able to customize the MC in the newer games, and I’m glad it’s something they’ve kept around (even if the default MCs are rly cute too)

The addition of a moped is neat, though I’ll admit it seems... Superfluous. The horse in previous games was primarily used as a way to get around faster. I understand you have to unlock your moped, but the same goes for the horse, and with the way the game mechanics work, I have my moped back before I have the stable rebuilt, which kind of...Renders the horse moot. Why would I bother to build the stable now and waste fodder/stamina on an animal when I have a moped again?

In terms of the villagers, I can’t say I’m very attached to any of them. I’ve got a small handful that I guess I like but I’m just generally not invested in any of them or their lives.The dialogue is all very samey, and I feel like there’s little variation in what they say to me-- Which is generally a problem in most of the games, but it seems more noticeable here, and almost makes me ache for Save the Homeland’s dialogue style instead.

The voice clips are a nice touch, remind me vaguely of Magical Melody, and I’ll admit it’s a nice little touch. To be frank, the lack of visible talksprites and heart meters being hidden in notes VERY much reminds me of StH or MM, and isn’t necessarily something that bothers me (even if the camera angles get a lil wonky.)

As for how the farm works... I absolutely hate that the makers can only make one item at a time. I hate hate hate that I have several of these damn things lined up on my farm, taking up space, just so I can have the materials I need, and even then I only get ONE AT A TIME! And I need SEVERAL of these items to do anything from upgrading my tools, to expanding my house, to making clothes. In previous games, YES, you had to have certain items to do these things as well, but you (usually) didn’t need to turn ores into ingots first. Lumber was straight up logs that you cut down, and stones were actually useful. But here? HERE?

Cut the tree down. Save the logs. Put 3 logs into a maker. Get one (1) piece of lumber. Repeat ad nauseam.

By the way, there’s at least 5 different types of lumber. And grass. And you need them all for different things! And you need a lot of them for the different things!

There’s 3 mines, which are, frankly, kind of disappointing. The 3rd and largest mine is only 50 floors, and while the addition of the moles make for an... Interesting angle (and fighting off enemies isn’t new at all in certain games) it’s just... Boring. Part of the reason I enjoyed the mines so much in previous games was part of the challenge! It zapped your stamina so easily, and the further down you got, the more exciting it was! But it (personally) feels like there’s no challenge to these mines, and their low variety makes them boring. In reality, you’re only down there to get ores to shove into the ingot makers, so you can progress. (Because remember, these take more than one ore, to make just one (1) ingot!)

Your farm also has various trees and grasses growing over its 3 levels, which is all well and good. However, they crop up and grow VERY fast, including in places you don’t want them to. You have to cover spaces with flooring to stop them from popping up somewhere inconvenient, and even then, they’ll appear where you weren’t ALLOWED to place the flooring. You can’t just sickle the saplings, either. You have to mash those down with a hammer.

Your sickle is ONLY used for cutting the grass, which makes it almost useless in terms of upgrading. You cannot use it on crops, weeds, etc. Just the grass.

There’s also these blue stepping stones across your farm in various places. To my knowledge they cannot be moved or broken, and you cannot till them away, or place anything over them, resulting in wasted space, frankly.

As for the animals, it’s very... Strange? In my opinion. I’m unsure if it’s because of the mode I selected, but the livestock does not NEED to be brushed every day. Rather, when you go to take care of them, the animal will have a small speech bubble over them, indicating what they want at the moment. Your cows and goats will often have a milk icon over their head most days, and only OCCASIONALLY (in my experience) will they want to be brushed. Strangely, you don’t need to buy any tools to do so, either. You interact, they’re milked. You interact, they’re brushed. It’s all very quick, as well.

Also strangely, you have to purchase the ability to breed your chickens, rather than just putting an egg into the incubator.

As for the animal variety... I like it! The goats and the rabbits are very fun additions! And simply finding your animals (and the new varieties) randomly on your farm and then ‘taming’ them is kind of fun, but it does feel like you don’t particularly get a say in if you want to have the new animals in the first place, even if you CAN release animals via the Earth Sprites.

Which, by the way, make me miss the Harvest Sprites, very much. They’re sort of cute, I guess, but ultimately a little boring, if not helpful. Even the Spirit is... Interesting, and beautiful as she is, she’s so. Bland. You can’t really befriend her, just sort of talk to her, but it doesn’t really seem to do much.

I miss you, Harvest Goddess.........

There’s an added museum feature, very similar to animal crossing, but save for the small statues being built of animals you take photos of, it’s just another way to pad out the game, and is very unimpressive to look at.

Crop, meanwhile, are very... Eh, to me. Crops that previously used to be able to be harvested from all season, last 1-3 harvests before disappearing, and then need to be replanted--Including things like tea bushes. Thankfully, the seed makers are a maker that give you 2 seeds out of 1 item-- Though the seed bags only cover 1 tilled square, rather than 9, like in a few previous games.

Your rucksack is also limited in space-- Once again, nothing new, but very frustrating for a game that requires you to have a variety of materials on hold to make XYZ thing. The shipping bin ALSO only holds so many items, and to my knowledge cannot be upgraded. Got 25 items to ship? Sorry! You can only ship 24! Guess you have to wait until tomorrow :)

There’s also only 2 festivals per season, one of which is a mini game, while the other... Is not. It’s kind of a bummer, actually, and I don’t find myself looking forward to them at all.

It’s not all bad, though!

I do enjoy the ability to build sprinklers and let THOSE water your crops for you. It’s very time and stamina saving, and I thoroughly enjoy it.

The variety of crops and wild flowers is nice as well! You can get some crops grown wild, pop those into a seed maker, and then BOOM! You just got strawberries, or melons, or pineapples for free! Nice!

I DO like that your farm has 3 different levels, and unlocking them by fixing bridges is pretty cool, and genuinely feels like it’s been earned when you DO save up enough money (or materials) to unlock them.

The character models look pretty nice, if not a little strange at times. I feel like they can move stiffly in cutscenes, and they have very limited expressions, but they’re still nice to look at. I thoroughly enjoy the happy dance villagers do when you give them a gift they particularly like.

But...

I won’t lie to you guys, but EVERY time I pick up to play (which I’ll admit is a lot, despite my complaints), I find myself wanting to play the older games instead. Now I’ll admit a lot of the newer games could be lacking in particular areas, but there was ALWAYS a lot of enjoyment for me while playing them, so to have this absolute ACHE to dig out my ps2 or my gamecube to play Save the Homeland or Magical Melody INSTEAD is.... Kind of astounding to me.

It’s a fun game to turn your brain off and play, but I don’t think it’s deserving of the price tag-- Even with the new downloadable content on the way (that also costs money, even if you can save some with the expansion pass.). It feels oddly hollow and very... Mobile-game like to me, and while it’s not the WORST game I’ve ever played, it feels like it’s missing a lot of the charm that previous titles have had.

[dastardlydandelion]

medium luci

ao3 link

content warnings: homophobia, comphet, child abuse, abusive relationships

It’s rare that Susan and Neil have the same weekday off. Neil typically works five days a week and she three or four, depending who’s on staff, being that she’s only part-time. But he’d had a dentist appointment midmorning so he’d taken today off and decided to make his hours up by volunteering for a double next week.

Susan doesn’t typically care to spend any extra time alone with her husband. They have so little to talk about these days, now that he doesn’t try to butter her up or feed her honey sweet lies as much as he used to. Now that Neil doesn’t care to talk much at all unless ranting or complaining about the various things he doesn’t like, his son’s style of dress, women who sit with their legs open, cab drivers who don’t speak English. Susan doesn’t even remember the last time Neil had to take a cab but he has strong opinions on them nonetheless, and the list goes on and on.

He thankfully hasn’t done much of that today, however. He’d parked himself in front of the television after coming home from his appointment and simply nodded when Susan announced she was going out to garden. She only comes inside when she hears the phone ring and by the time she’s walking up the back steps, Neil’s already answered it.

She watches his expression change as he converses with whomever’s on the other end, nervousness fluttering in her chest as his eyes widen, then harden.

“I’ll be right there,” Neil concludes as he hangs up, turning those hard eyes onto Susan. “That was the school.”

“Oh dear…what’s Billy done this time?”

“Not Billy.” Neil shakes his head and Susan’s heart drops with the realization her husband isn’t just irritated but seething, knuckles blanched as his hands ball into tight fists. “Maxine. Did you know the Sinclairs have a girl around her age?”

“N-No, I didn’t. I’m not very familiar with them, Neil.” Susan never had much luck getting close to anyone anymore, not in the least because of Neil himself.

“Apparently Maxine is,” he declares icily. “A teacher caught her and the Sinclair girl fornicating under the bleachers.”

Susan’s heart turns to stone and sinks into her stomach.

No.

Please, no.

Neil has very strong opinions about sexuality in general and homosexual conduct in particular, and Susan can practically feel the outrage radiating from him. It crackles in the air like the promise of a lightning storm. Neil’s fists are still clenched and his posture goes taut like it always does before he explodes.

“W-Well,” Susan begins, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

She hates herself for what she is going to say. She says it anyway.

“Well, you know where she learned that kind of b-behavior from, don’t you?”

Because if Neil is going to explode, Susan can’t stop him. But she hopes she can at least encourage the worst of it away from Max. She watches Neil’s eyes flicker and knows they’re both remembering the day they came home early from the short vacation they’d taken for their fifth anniversary, a girl and a boy sneaking out of Billy’s bedroom window, neither particularly clothed. She watches the angry bulge of the vein pulsing in his neck and knows they’re both thinking of that short young fellow with the skateboard who worked at the used car lot during the day and spent his time with Billy during the night.

“Yes, I know exactly where she learned it from. I’m picking both of them up and we’re all going to have a family discussion.”

“I should come with you.”

“No.” Neil holds up his hand. “Stay here, Susan. We’ll be back soon enough.”

Neil has gun powder in his gaze and she dares not argue. She lowers her head and steps aside when he walks past to fetch the truck keys from the hook. He stomps down the steps and slams the backdoor shut behind him.

Susan watches through the window as he gets into the truck and pulls out of the driveway, feeling dreadfully ill. She doesn’t mean what she’d said, of course. There are a number of behaviors that Max has picked up from Billy, but that isn’t one of them. If anyone is to blame, Susan supposes it’s herself for passing it along intrinsically.

She has her own secret desires locked away within the chambers of her heart. Desire she dares not confront for her own sanity, for her own safety. She’s never acted on her wants, always chose to play private games of hide and seek with them in her head instead, those insidiously innocent wishes of hers. Never spoken aloud let alone pursued those urges that flush hot beneath her skin when she finds her eyes drawn to other women’s lips, hips, breasts.  

Susan gave it to Max and unlike her, Max is brash and bold and brave. God save her, Max does what she wants to do and doesn’t care what other people think. Susan would admire her for it if it didn’t scare her to death.

Because Neil does care what other people think. He cares very much. And Susan’s seen him annoyed with Max in the past. She’s seen him frustrated with Max, displeased, exasperated. But never has she seen the silent stirring of a reign of rage to come where Max is concerned, never has she known that particular look in Neil’s eye to be directed Max’s way. She can only hope—

Oh, it’s such a despicable thing to hope for. Susan has poison in her soul, she swears she must. But Billy isn’t remotely hers and Max very much is.

* * * 

Susan doesn’t know if it was actually her remark that spurred Neil to turn the blame on Billy or if this was the conclusion he would’ve come to anyway. Neil often blames Max’s mishaps and mischiefs on Billy. Billy being the older sibling meant to lead by example. Billy being the older brother, meant to keep his younger sister out of trouble to begin with.

Her remark or Neil’s default thought process, in any case, it’s Billy he’s glaring at in the living room. Angrily dictates that Billy take off his shirt, belt in hand. Susan grabs a very pale Max’s shoulders and begins to usher her down the hall.

“Where are you taking Maxine?”

Susan freezes, mouth going dry.

Neil’s looking their way now, brow arched, stern and skeptical.

“I-I—“

“She isn’t going to learn if she doesn’t watch, Susan,” he declares with no room for argument. “Bring her back.”

Susan swallows, hands tightening on Max’s shoulders. Something dies inside her when she turns her daughter around. She buries it silently as she’s buried so many other pieces before and avoids Max’s eyes boring into her as she marches her back to the living room. Neil motions for them to sit on the couch, sunlight glinting off the metal buckle. Billy doesn’t bother to disguise his disdain, glaring murder, nostrils flaring like an ornery bovine. Susan suspects he’ll pay for this too.

“Your behavior today was beyond inappropriate, Maxine,” Neil tells her coldly. “Unnatural, disgusting, absolutely unacceptable.”

Max squirms next to Susan, hands tucking under her thighs. She is stone faced but this close, Susan can feel her shaking.

“Now, I know it’s not all your fault. Big Brother here’s taught you—“

“I didn’t teach her shit!” Billy cuts him off, sharp and acidic. “I told her to steer clear from Sinclair, this isn’t on me!”

Neil punches his son in the stomach with all the affect of swatting a fly, once, twice. Susan flinches. Billy’s gasping, breath knocked out of him. He staggers and Neil viciously shoves him to the floor.

“She saw you with that faggot’s tongue down your throat, don’t think I don’t know! I know you, I know the kind of shit you think you can get away with behind my back!” Neil roars like thunder. “Well, now it’s my turn to teach her a thing or two! Pay attention, Maxine!”

Max stiffens beside her. She opens her mouth to protest and Susan grabs her arm, sinking her nails in. Startled, Max's eyes dart to her. Susan gives a tiny shake of the head, urging her not to speak. Max bends her elbow like a chicken wing and jerks her arm out of Susan’s grasp. Ire flares in her gaze but she holds her tongue. She does not challenge Neil as he begins beating Billy with the belt.

Susan can’t watch. She lowers her eyes to the floor. She can see the movement in the shadows, Neil’s rapid whipping of the improvised weapon and Billy’s form jolting with the blows. Susan shuts her eyes to the shadows but she can still hear it, thick, hard leather striking bare flesh.

“Don’t turn away, Maxine,” Neil barks at some point between the sounds of violence.

Billy doesn’t cry out. Eventually it’s over. Susan raises her head and cannot bear more than a glance at her stepson braced on his hands and knee. The belt now rests at Neil’s side and still, her stomach is churning.

“If there is ever a repeat of the conduct you displayed today, there will be consequences. Is that understood, Maxine?”

Max looks to Susan. Her eyes are wavering. Then they glean whatever it is they were searching for from Susan’s and harden.

“Yes,” she mumbles.

“Yes, what?”

Max clears her throat.

“Yes, sir,” she corrects, louder and clearer.

“Both of you to your rooms,” he commands. “I want both of you to reflect on your actions until it’s time for dinner.”

“Yes, sir,” Billy answers this time, climbing to his feet in the corner of Susan’s eye. She remains on the couch as her daughter rises and plods down the hall, cheeks as red as the cherry atop a sundae. Flushed as red as the welts on Billy’s back that have Susan’s stomach in ropes even though she only spares a brief glance.

Neil sets the belt aside and plops down in his armchair. “Can you get me a beer, Susan?”

She nods and rises, quietly fetching one. Pops the tab and then passes it to him before she excuses herself. In times like this, Susan wants to leave more than anything. She wants to grab Max and take her far, far away. But she can’t imagine they would get anywhere, truly.

Neil controls the finances. Susan makes less money than he does and every cent she does earn inevitably winds up under Neil’s attentive purview. In a distant, ostensible kind of way Susan understands there are shelters for women in her situation. Shelters out there, somewhere…aren’t there? For her situation?

Neil hasn’t actually put his hands on her. Not yet. Not like what he just did to Billy. Hasn’t actually done so to Max, although the threat of that unfolded in the living room in a way that could not be more crystal clear. The threat alone feels like a fist to Susan, invisible fist clenched tight around her insides and squeezing so hard she's nauseous.  

Is the threat enough? Would Susan and Max be accepted on the basis of threats alone?

Provided she could ever find such a place to begin with. Susan doesn’t have the faintest clue of where to look for what feels more like a nebulous fantasy of a sanctuary than a tangible reality. A shimmering oasis in the desert. Even if she were to locate such a place, what if it were at full capacity?

What if she and Max got turned away?

That would mean choosing between being homeless or going back to Neil. Going back to Neil after a failed escape would certainly mean him making good on all those threats of his, the ones verbal and non. The examples explicit in his words and implicit in his actions. Above all, any failed escape would certainly ensure there would be no second escape.

Susan isn’t going anywhere. And neither is Max. The very notion is abstract and distorted, floating just out of reach in a gaussian blur of a wish. Their home isn’t a good home. But it is the home they have and so, Susan will simply have to do her best to make sure Max never does anything like this again. That Max never does anything to get Neil’s attention like that, nothing to stoke the coals always smoldering in his choleric soul. That as painful as it's sure to be, Max learns to keep certain parts of herself under lock and key.

When dinner is in the oven and Neil is engrossed in his program, Susan slips off to Max’s bedroom. She knocks quietly and lets herself in. Her throat knots up at the tear tracks on her daughter’s cheeks, far more gutting than the way she bristles as Susan steps closer, the sheer hurt in her eyes.

“What do you want?”

The same things as you, Susan thinks irresistibly. And I’d go after them too, if I didn’t know better.

“I’m sorry, Max.”

Max huffs and turns away. “Whatever.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not. You’re just like Neil, you think I’m disgusting,” Max spits, hiking her legs up on the bed and hugging her knees to her chest. “You think Billy’s disgusting too, you couldn’t even look at him.”

“No, I don’t…oh, Max.” Susan swallows and lowers herself to a sit beside her on the bed, gently placing a hand on her knee. She swallows her heartbreak when Max’s eyes flash as though the touch scalds her. “Neil and I disagree about many things. This is one of them.”

“Then why didn’t you say that?” The blaze in Max’s eyes dies down, voice softening to cinders. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Oh, he’s so much bigger than me, Max.” Susan sags with familiar defeat. “And I— I don’t think it’s wrong, you and this girl.”

“Lucy.”

“I’m sure Lucy is lovely,” leaves Susan’s lips, this fragile whisper she dares not tempt fate to speak above. “I could never think that you’re disgusting. But I’m just me, Max, and Neil is bigger, and the world…the world too, is so much bigger than I am. You can’t— never, ever in public.”

Max’s eyes widen. Susan shifts on the bed and moves her hands, finds both of Max’s and squeezes tight.

“You cannot be open with feelings like that. You can’t take girls to your school dances, you can’t kiss them where other people could see.”

Max lets out an angry growl even as her eyes well up.

“It’s not fair!”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not good enough!”

“I know.” She knows, oh, she knows, she’s never not choking on it.

Max chews her lip, scarlet and fuming. Susan halfway expects her daughter to headbutt her or holler right in her ear until she deafens. But after a moment it’s almost as if Max can decode all the things she cannot say because her hands twist under Susan’s and intertwine their fingers.

[inheritorofmemories-archive]

TOG immortals and vices

Been thinking about the way half the guards smoke like chimneys in the comics, the consumption of alcohol shown in the movie, and what bad habits they would have picked up and never let go of throughout their lives.

So here, my little headcanons about which vices each of the immortals have:

(vices used loosely, more like bad habits or things they like that they cannot help or do without)

Andy and food. And sweet stuff.

She has known hunger and plain, out of necessity, food for so long she’ll indulge gods help her she will ingest as much sugar as she can get her hands on. Absolutely demolished Yusuf’s stash of sweets when they met her. She doesn’t like cooking, or baking, because it takes too much time and investment and feeding herself was a chore for most of her life but she loves to go out to eat. She absolutely hates the snobby michelin type restaurants with no food on the plate and stupidly long name and she’ll take a good meal from the corner food truck or that family held recipe over that pretentious crap any time of the day. Can only feel alive when eating food with enough spice in it to burn off anyone’s tongue but she also likes the greasy and filling stuff that sticks to your throat for hours. Food as a bonding experience for friends and family, she believes in the power of bread, good wine, sweet dessert and a full stomach. But mostly the desert to satisfy her huge sweet tooth.

Quynh and fashion.

That woman wouldn’t be caught dead in clothes that don’t fit or look ridiculous, you and I both know that. She’s reasonable most time and keeps their money in check but more than once she gave too many coins for a dress/tunic/shirt or a fabric that caught her eyes. In general she loves to take care of appearance, clean and combed hair styled nicely, clean and good clothes, makeup and jewelry that doesn’t look too bling but bring just enough class and bring attention. She likes beautiful things in general (aka her wife Andy but also that collection of knives she has that is centuries old, there’s some Damascus steel in there Joe found for her). Was definitely the one to dress the team and the one who took to new trends the fastest, even when she had Opinions on said trends. Would also be the type that would rather be overdressed than underdressed at an event, as opposed to Andy which makes for the funniest couple ever.

Nile and physical activity (not just sport, anything physical).

I see her as the kind of person who cannot relax and needs to be doing something at all times. She’s the eldest daughter in her family and in comics canon she had like 5 jobs before going into the army, tell me this isn’t the behavior of someone who hates to be idle because it makes her feel useless. She’s working out to process her emotions in the military base, and when Andy leaves to fight in the church she’s walking in circles trying to find something to do, go help Andy or pack or anything really. She’s absolutely the type to go for a run because she has nothing else planned and it clears her head, or the one to stress bake in the middle of the night to keep her hand busy, or who would learn to knit because reading isn’t enough to keep her brain in track she has to do something concrete with her hands. People telling her to calm down, stop jerking her legs or just take a day off awake strong murder urges in her. It’s not like she can help it so let her tear this piece of paper into smaller pieces of paper because she hasn’t been on run in days and she’s going crazy with pent up energy. Patience is vertue that never bothered to visit her.

Joe and arguing.

He loves to pick arguments. He’s the cerebral guy in the team and he will get into heated debates even if it pisses off him, the other person talking, everyone else around the table and the neighbors on the other side of the room. He can’t help it, that’s just in his genes to argue and share his opinions and confront the way other people’s brain work. The best kind of arguments are about the most pointless and petty things like how to drink your coffee, the best time to nap, which citrus is the best or the correct way to store books. The haggling falls under that category too, Yusuf “son of a merchant” al-Kaysani was raised right by his baba and he knows a scam when he sees one, no he will not calm down that price is twice it’s value, you thief.

Nicky and gambling.

He just likes it. Knows he shouldn’t but he enjoys the excitation of a bet and the risk involved and the thrill of winning too much to stop. As soon as an opportunity to bet arise it’s like a switch in his brain cut off all common sense coursing through him. He can hold back if the situation is dire but with enough teasing and ribbing he will take part even into the most stupid and useless bets, yeah, 20 bucks that chicken gets to the barn before the goat does. I have to thank @polarcell for this one, wouldn’t have thought of it without her posting about it and the image of calm and collected Nicky going feral over bets and just running headfirst into them is an incredibly humanizing quality that I appreciate.

Booker and alcohol.

Goes into the unhealthy side in the movie but I truly believe he’s the kind of man who would sell his kidney to get that bottle of good liquor he’s been eyeing all week, if not dying in the process, simply because he likes the taste of this one. The kind of man to be a snobby asshole over wine and good whiskey from time to time but mostly he wants to share it with his friends (ie. the small family that gets all the best alcohol he can find to drink with them). A bit of a social drinker I think too, like Andy with food: it’s best when it’s shared.

+ Bonus:

Lykon and adrenaline.

Have you seen the way that man smiled at Andy when he was almost gutted by a spear in a fight? You can’t tell me Lykon wasn’t the og Jackass back in BCE time. He can be calm and collected but present him with the opportunity to ride a wild beast or jump off a cliff/waterfall/ravine and he will do it. A bit of a thrill-seeker, often getting himself, and then Andy and Quynh too, into trouble because he just couldn’t help it, it seemed too fun. He’s here for a good time not a long one and a long one too. If he was still alive he would 100% be the kind to discover motorcycle, promptly dies about 10 times riding it too fast, and then enroll in a circus just to jump through on fire hoops every night. He would have been so thrilled when humanity started to invent stuff to fly too, just imagine him grinning as he jumps off a plane with the first-ever parachute strapped on his back.

[raitrolling]

Present Day, Present Time

[Easy Reading Version on Toyhou.se]

-- alluringMisdirection [AM] began trolling autonomousMachinations [AM] --

AM: Oh shlt slnce when was lt your bday??

AM: All g tho, l got a place ln mlnd ;)

AM: Obvlously lt’s gonna be a secret, so don’t even bother asklng! Surprlse partles are the best partles, y’know. And lt’s gotta be good for the blg 1-0!

AM: So you better get hype- or, as hype as whatever’s posslble for you 8)

-- alluringMisdirection [AM] ceased trolling autonomousMachinations [AM] --

Callan stood in the homewares section of one of Block 136’s many low-end department stores, hands on his hips and tapping his foot in mild irritation. Predictably, he’d be caught off-guard by Gerrel’s mentioning of his wriggling day coming up. He didn’t forget, of course, he just- Wait, did Gerrel ever mention it before? They’ve known each other for a while and Callan had definitely made him put his wriggling day into his stupidly busy schedule, but he legitimately cannot recall if the redblood had brought up his own before. Huh. Well, whatever, Callan’s going to say that’s Gerrel’s problem to work out, because right now he’s got his own problem. What the hell kind of present does someone with no hobbies want? Most of the time when it comes to presents, Callan would simply grab whatever silly novelty he could find in the clearance sections - A hat with a funny saying on it, some desktop USB gadget, all those stocking stuffer toys made specifically for office 12th Perigees party gifts, the impulse buy bottle openers and fidget spinners at the registers, - it didn’t matter what the gift was, if it was a gift from him then clearly it was the most important! But this time it’s different. It’s not just a gift for someone’s 10th wriggling day, but the wriggling day of someone who it wouldn’t be inaccurate to call Callan’s best friend (who would’ve thought? Of all people!). A real pro at gift-giving too, the photo book he gave last Quadrants’ Day had touched Callan’s heart far greater than any novelty chocolate or humorous greeting card ever could. So now he’s obligated to be thoughtful. Ugh, thinking.

He acknowledges that the logical gift would be something practical, Gerrel does seem to like things that are useful and would make him more productive. With how much he goes on about ‘healthy eating’ and ‘cooking your own meals’, he’d probably be over the moon if he unwrapped one of those air fryer things people keep talking about. But as Callan stared the boxes of kitchen appliances down, he couldn’t help but think one thing...

An air fryer is fucking boring.

Yes, sure, it’s the perfect gift for someone like him. He’d appreciate it! He’d appreciate it a lot more than the corner store chocolates he received from the greenblood for Quadrants’ Day, or the reindeer antler hat from 12th Perigees. He’d probably get a lot of use out of it too, if what the recipe books conveniently placed next to the display says is true. You can cook chicken, vegetables, brownies and muffins, fish and chips, mozzarella sticks… But, it may be a gift from Callan, but it’s not a gift from Callan. There’s no pizzaz, no style, nothing that screams “This is a gift from the one and only Callan Ranpoe, the best troll you’ve ever known! Accept no substitutes!''. It’s a gift someone would buy for a hivewarming party, or something his rich boss would slip in with the weekly wages just to remind everyone of how much money he has. Not a gift from someone known for their sense of humour and great taste in, well, everything.

Callan’s train of thought is interrupted by an employee asking if he needs a hand. Some tired-looking brownblood who knows that if they don’t ask every customer who has spent more than thirty seconds standing on one spot this question their boss will have them thrown out on the streets. He dismisses the employee with a wave of his hand, who only responds by parroting that the tea towels and oven mitts have a two-for-one deal tonight only.

Two-for-one… That’s it! Cheap and more fun than some boring appliance!

Not wanting to make it seem like he was inspired by the employee’s suggestion, Callan continues to mull about the appliances section pretending to be interested in the breadmakers and slow cookers before stealthily slipping over to the kitchen accessories section. Sure enough, the tea towels and oven mitts are already looking more to the greenblood’s liking. There’s the towels with funny cooking-related puns (Haha, “Let’s give them something to taco ‘bout”! It’s funny because it’s got tacos on it!), towels covered in cute animal prints (and a very un-cute one covered in horses. Sorry Gerrel, but you truly have the worst lusus), and towels covered in sayings one would find on a Facebook Minions group (which unfortunately, would probably appeal to the redblood’s sense of humour more than anything else…). There’s oven mitts shaped like crab claws and dinosaur heads, some pop culture-themed mitts with references that’d definitely fly over his head, and one that just says the word ‘butter’ repeated on every inch of the fabric. Callan starts picking a couple off the rack, already congratulating himself on his head about how genius this gift is.

But… As he stares down at the dinosaur oven mitt and the tea towels with food puns, the gift still didn’t feel right. There should probably be something… More? To this? If the last present idea was thoughtful but lacks ‘Callan vibes’, then this idea is more Him but less thoughtful or really, wanted. Who wants tea towels for their wriggling day? That’s like giving someone socks and underwear. Callan sighs, dumping the chosen items onto the shelf below instead of hanging them back onto the rack. Putting in the effort for a perfect gift sucks.

Why is this so important? Why does a gift need to be thoughtful, personal, and most importantly, something that would make him think of Callan every time? Maybe it’s to make every moment as memorable as possible to combat the reality that all of Callan’s relationships are fleeting at best. Gerrel seems to be able to recognise him through his psiionics, most likely because altering one’s voice, speech patterns, and quirks in their posture and body language are difficult without specific training that Callan doesn’t have. But a friendship cannot be perpetuated on vaguely familiar quirks alone. What if one night Callan decides he wants to cut his hair? Change the way he dresses- hell, just happens to wear a waistcoat with his symbol printed on the opposite side? Doesn’t tie the bow around his neck correctly? Gerrel would fail to recognise him, and they’d be back at square one. And that’s not to mention the major elephant in the room being Callan’s stints as the prolific Phantom Thief. That wouldn’t be something he could just shrug off and accept, especially when his boss has been one of the thief’s major targets. He doesn’t come across as someone who would be angry to find out about this secret, but… He’s very honest and loyal. It would make sense for him to dob Callan into his boss, someone who values working as much as he does would definitely put his own job over anything else.

But then again… He’s selfless, in that way that makes Callan almost feel bad at letting him take over all the chores in his hive when he probably could do them himself if he could be bothered. Almost. Thank god he doesn’t have to wash dishes any more, and the food Gerrel cooks is way better than anything he could ever make even if he put his mind to it. So maybe he wouldn’t do that. Of course he wouldn’t do that! Even if it doesn’t last, he’s Callan’s friend now. And maybe they might continue to be friends, and- If the greenblood’s ego allows it- Gerrel could learn the truth of his psiionics, and try to work with it. Just as he works with every other eccentricity that makes up Callan’s personality.

… Nothing in this long moment of introspection has given him any more ideas for the perfect 10th wriggling day gift. Goddammit. 

The brownblood continues floating around the aisles, keeping an eye on Callan in the way one would monitor a known shoplifter or rowdy group of teenagers. Now’s probably the best chance to get that advice they’re paid to give out.

“Hey,” Callan addresses the employee with a nod, “Got any ideas for a 10th wriggling day gift? I need one for a guy who’s into like, cooking and shit. Practical, but fun, y’know?”

The brownblood silently casts their eyes over to the appliances, and settles on the most expensive item they can spot.

“Air fryer.”

Of course.

Once again, we’re back to square one. This is going to take more than an hour’s worth of thinking, which is well more than Callan has ever done in his life. But, that’s fine. He’s got time, and it’s for someone worth spending time on. And there’s still the entirety of the department store to meander about like what everyone else does at this time of night. Maybe he could look into finding some outfits so Gerrel can be at least half as stylish as him, maybe some instructional books on building projects that would normally bore Callan to death because they lack funny pictures, maybe some crafts to make something (he can paint a mean self-portrait, so a portrait of someone else wouldn’t be that much more difficult)...

Now, if only Gerrel didn’t steal his other non-kitchen appliance idea of putting together a photo book already, that could’ve been perfect. Who wouldn’t want their own collection of Official Callan selfies?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took another couple hours and some trips to a few nearby shops, but finally the search for the perfect present was over. Callan stood at the kitchen table, putting together the finishing touches on the now-wrapped gift’s presentation. The homewares idea was thrown out the window in favour of something just as practical, but in a way that feels more personal. A blazer sits folded on the table (Callan made sure to not unfold it after the cashier slipped it into the shopping bag, there’s no way he’d ever be able to get it right), in a similar style to the one usually worn by Gerrel albeit with gold buttons and a green trim on the collar and cuffs. A voucher to get his symbol printed on the jacket has also been slipped into the breast pocket. It felt right to give something with his hue, it’s a common sign of friendship between a higherblood and a lowblood. He may not have a particularly intimidating shade of blue or purple, but it’s still an indication of protecting a friend. And, it’s something picked out by Callan himself so clearly it’s peak fashion.

There was an attempt at tying up the gift in a bow - one of the spare green neckties identical to the one he wore, to be precise - but there was certainly little effort into making it look perfect. The bow was uneven and sat nowhere close to the centre, and Callan couldn’t figure out how to do that fancy criss-cross tie most presents are wrapped in. Not that the presentation mattered to him, and he’s sure that’s the level of effort Gerrel would expect from him. He probably doesn’t expect much from the greenblood, honestly, so perhaps this modicum of effort will make this gift even more special. 

[cno-inbminor]

adsentio - the masque

a/n: it’s royalty!au once again! i would recommend reading adsentio AND bonus letters for the full context. thank you to those who were waiting patiently! did i rewatch ‘ever after: a cinderella story’ for inspiration? of course. 

genre: royalty!au ft. fem!reader, angst, fluff; warnings: terribly written sword fight, somewhat unedited.

summary: You’re starting to wonder if an impostor wrote those letters instead of Prince Akaashi, but the show must go on. 

wc: ~7.4k

royalty!au: adsentio (pt. 1) | bonus letters (pt 1.5) | the masque (pt. 2)

“Are you sure everything is packed?”

“Yes, mother,” you reply, voice laced with exasperation.

“Is your dress for the ceremony there as well? We absolutely cannot leave without that gown!”

“Yes, mother, it’s in there,” you reassure, pointing to a trunk that’s already in the carriage. An audible sigh of relief leaves your mother’s lips. Even though your mother’s fretting was starting to grate at your last nerves, you still felt the excitement of going back to the Fukurodani Kingdom.

After all, Prince Akaashi is waiting for you.

Akaashi’s Christmas gift had come a month and a half before the holiday it was intended for. Soon after, the two of you agreed to refrain from sending any letters during the months of frost, wanting to lessen the burden on the delivery man. He needed to be home with his family when possible, and the journey could be treacherous during those times. As warmer weather rolled around in mid-March, his familiar face had arrived at your castle steps with a small bundle of letters tied with parcel string. They were all addressed to you in a handwriting that you had grown extremely fond of.

If it were up to you, you would be adorned in your most comfortable riding attire and charge full speed ahead. You would probably be able to cut the journey time by about a third, and though it wasn’t much, it would still mean that you would see Akaashi sooner. With how forward he was in his letters, you could only bubble with enthusiasm at how different this summer could be.

Nevertheless, time passes as it does, and you’re once again at the entrance of Fukurodani’s castle. As always, the king and queen stand side by side at the bottom of the steps, the prince standing politely by them. It seems that Prince Akaashi has only grown more handsome since last summer. If you had to guess, he would be more than a full head taller than you. Besides height, Akaashi’s face seems to have lost any remaining baby fat, leaving nothing but a pointed chin and a sharp jawline. Whether or not it be a result of your newfound attraction towards him, there’s no room to deny just how handsome he truly is, bordering on ethereal beauty.

His piercing blue orbs seem to sparkle in delight when you step out of the carriage. In fact, he’s quick to take place of their usual footman and hold out a hand for you to grasp, securely ensuring that you don’t lose your step. Your grip is tight, and you can only hope that he sees the joy reflected in your own eyes. With intention and purpose, he presses his lips to the back of your hand, needing no reminder from his mother this time, and never removes his gaze from yours. Your breath seems to have escaped your lungs, even more so when he straightens and takes one daring step closer to you. Both of your parents must be brimming with satisfaction at this interaction, but all of it is ignored and disregarded. Akaashi still keeps your hand in his as he slightly leans down to whisper in your ear.

“You look beautiful as always, Princess (y/n).”

Your title had always moderately annoyed you over the last 18 years, but you decide then and there that there would be no complaint if he addressed you as so for the rest of eternity. Furthermore, if it weren’t for your dignity and pride, you would kiss him right now in front of everyone. As he pulls away, you do your best to compose yourself. After all, two can play this game.

“Thank you, Your Highness. You’ve grown more handsome since I last saw you.”

“Have we returned to formalities again?”

“Please forgive my old habits, Prince Akaashi.”

“(Y/n),” he murmurs darkly, metallic blue eyes full of warning and mischief. “Need I remind you of my given name?”

You register the tightening of his grip. Don’t even dare, his eyes seem to caution, not when so much progress was made through paper and ink. But you know he will rise to a challenge for his desires when he sees one – it’s only in his nature.

“Perhaps I need a reason to address you as such,” you quip, watching his eyes flash with an emotion you are unable to pinpoint. Nevertheless, you remove your hand from his, ignoring the yearning for the warmth that he had provided. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must greet the king and queen or they’ll have my head.”

Akaashi only watches with longing as you trek away to curtsy before his parents. Could your birthday celebration come any sooner?

-

You’re beginning to think that someone other than Prince Akaashi wrote those letters to you, that someone else had just forged his handwriting to a tee and perfectly replicated his writing style. Since the little interaction between you two on the day of your arrival, Akaashi was acting as if this were any other summer. Very little was said to or done with you – even last summer, the two of you had often strolled through the gardens while discussing various topics. Yet now, it was five summers ago all over again: the two of you at opposite ends of the castle reading your desired books.

You only ever saw him during mealtimes or in passing – even then, he would simply nod in your direction or only speak to you when he had to. Your efforts to narrow the gap diminished significantly by the third day, and by the end of the first week, you decided to completely give up. The prince has constructed a wall between you two and you possessed no ability to strike it down.

On days you weren’t reading, out of boredom and the need to fill your mind with thoughts of anything other than Akaashi, you would help prepare for the ball and your coming-of-age celebration. A private, proper ceremony would be done in your own kingdom once you returned, but it had long been determined that the festivities would be held here. Invitations and RSVP’s had steadily increased over the months, indicating that this would be a grand occasion. All the lessons on design and party-arrangement were finally paying off in its fullest, but your mother could not ignore the lack of life in your eyes.

It’s two weeks before the ball – you’re currently sitting in your chambers, lounging in a chair on your balcony with a book in your lap. You’ve recently taken an interest in philosophy, first starting with the works of Aristotle and Plato. A faint rap of knuckles on your door breaks your focus. “Come in,” you call out loud enough for your visitor to hear. The door clicks open and shut, and you’re mildly surprised to see your mother turning the corner to search for you.

“Mother, what a surprise,” you express while standing. She pulls you in for a hug without a word, only confusing you in the process as you return the embrace. After removing herself, she guides you back inside until the two of you are sitting on the edge of your bed, still holding your hands.

“Something has been bothering you, my child. Is there something you wish to tell me?” Your mother doesn’t want to push – she knows of the letters, your developed affection for Akaashi, and the lack of interaction between the two of you this summer. It’s hard to miss the lack of your figure by his side when he’s wondering around the castle, the ever pensive, calculating look on his face never fading. It’s hard to miss the way you often pick at your food, even going as far to request smaller portions for all your meals.

But it’s even harder to ignore the worried look in the prince’s eyes that’s cast your way when you excuse yourself after every meal, leaving earlier than everyone else.

You can only sigh before your teeth begin to gently gnaw on your bottom lip. “Mother, how angry would you be if this engagement doesn’t proceed as you’ve planned?”

“To be quite honest,” she begins as a small smile forms on her face. “I wouldn’t be angry at all. Not if the cost of it was your happiness.”

“But what about the merger?”

“With all these years between our kingdoms, engagement or not, a merger of sorts would only be inevitable. We only hoped that naturally, you and the prince would be drawn towards each other. But to force the two of you together would be unfair – your father and mine, as well as his parents, main concern is the happiness of our children.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course,” your mother emphasizes, a hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. “In fact, if you would like…

“We don’t have to come here next summer.”

Your eyes widen. Your mother was giving you a choice in this?

“Are you...sure?”

“I’m absolutely positive, (y/n). I will not force you and neither will your father, especially if forcing you would only make your pain greater.”

“Very well then, mother. We shall see.”

“Keep your chin up, my dear. We must keep you in your best shape for the ball, and…” she pauses, her smile turning somewhat mischievous. “Perhaps remind the prince that he should be properly courting you by now.”

“Mother!”

-

“Is it proper for a princess to be sparring?”

“Bokuto, you’ve known me for so many years, yet you still ask me this question every time. Do you really think my father would allow me to marry without knowing how to defend myself?”  

“I can’t really say, Princess. At least, not without possibly offending the king.”

Every summer, you make it tradition to leave time for sparring. When you turned fourteen, many of the younger guards in training had been terrified of practicing with you, fearing that they’d be punished for engaging in behavior that could possibly harm the princess. But after much coaxing and convincing (as well as written promise from King Akaashi), they finally felt comfortable in sparring with you. Back at home, you had a few designated training partners from the royal guard, but it would do no good if you didn’t keep up with your skills.

You’ve won your fair share, as well as lost a few handfuls. But you were never a sore loser and only thanked your partner for their time, even asking for pointers. On a few occasions, you would duel with Akaashi, though for times when you were at an advantage, you would purposely lose. The prince needed faith and trust from his men, and many would be dimwitted enough to let a few losses to a woman diminish their view of him. Akaashi was very well aware of your generosity, as well as Bokuto, which only caused him to tease the prince relentlessly in private.

For the sixth time this summer, just one week before the masque, you had pleaded with Bokuto for his time. At this point, you prefer to not ask for anything from Akaashi, especially when you’re so obviously kept at arm’s length. Bokuto is much more agreeable and doesn’t treat you like a glass figurine, thanks to the many years of roughhousing during your childhoods. He isn’t afraid to use his full force behind the strikes of his sword and you could always guarantee a few good rounds from him. Additionally, he always offers a lot of good advice after each duel. When you incorporate his teachings into your skill set, he recognizes it immediately and howls with pride, praising himself for being such a wonderful instructor.

“Why haven’t you asked Akaashi to spar with you yet?” Bokuto asks while tightening his gloves. The training grounds are empty at this time, though to be fair, it’s still quite early in the morning. You wanted to spar comfortably without the overbearing heat of the summer afternoon sun. A sigh leaves your lips – it’s not as if he doesn’t know already.

“I believe you’re well aware of why I haven’t, Bokuto. He’s barely spoken to me in these weeks. In fact, I’m sure he has better things to do than to indulge me.”

“He still cares for you.”

“Well, he has a funny way of showing it,” you reply bitterly and draw out your sword. “Come on, no time to dawdle.”

Disobeying your words, Bokuto bides his time with some extra stretching. “I’m his closest friend, I would know.”

“Then he can tell me himself. Can we please start?”

“Very well then.”

His words have riled you up significantly, Bokuto notices. Your attacks are relentless and your senses seem sharper than ever, easily dodging and parrying with the footwork of an experienced soldier. In fact, your movement is breathtakingly graceful, almost as if you were dancing. The duel goes on for minutes until Bokuto accidentally hesitates and can only surrender when the tip of your sword is millimeters from his neck. He drops his sword and a big grin forms on his face.

You lower your weapon and step back as the both of you catch your breath. Behind you, Bokuto spots a familiar figure leaning over the edge of their balcony. They’re too far away to hear what you’re saying or what expressions you’re wearing, but that doesn’t stop Bokuto from coming up with a devious plan.

“(Y/n), don’t look behind you, but he’s watching.”

You freeze – you completely forgot that Akaashi’s room faces the direction of the training grounds. Naturally, he has his own balcony, but you didn’t think he’d be watching. Had he been observing all your other sparring rounds? And how was he awake now? He’s usually never up this early.

“I have an idea,” Bokuto continues. “But you have to play along, all right?”

“I’m not liking the sound of this…”

“You just need to follow my lead. Now, pretend you’re about to start another duel.”

With all the confusion displayed on your face, you warily adjust yourself into your preparatory stance. Bokuto steps closer to you while sheathing his sword, eyeing your position with his hands behind his back. He quickly checks to see if Akaashi is still paying attention, and after confirming so, he enters your bubble of personal space.

“If you begin to feel uncomfortable, tell me. If I’m right, it’ll only take a few minutes before he’s down here.”

“But I don’t want—”

“Shh,” Bokuto interrupts with a gloved finger on your lips. He smirks when he spots Akaashi suddenly straightening himself, his posture turning stiff and guarded. You watch as he reaches for the hand holding your sword, wrapping his own around your grip.

“What are you doing?” You hiss at him.

“Wait a few seconds…okay,” Bokuto removes himself from your personal space. You relax and put down your guard, resisting the urge to punch him in the arm.

“What ever was all that for?!”

“Look,” he replies, pointing in the direction of Akaashi’s balcony. “He’s gone. I guarantee he’ll be here in the next five minutes.”

“Bokuto—”

“Now, now, let’s have another round to pass the time.”

“But—”

You’re interrupted when Bokuto swings his sword towards you, your own blocking his instinctively. You could try to protest all you want, but he wasn’t going to let you have it. You would make sure that he regrets it. Much like the first round, you put your all into the sparring session, fury growing as Bokuto’s grin widens over time. He’s taunting you over and over, leaving you so focused that you’re completely oblivious to the third figure currently making their way towards the two of you. Once within earshot, Akaashi clears his throat and you whip towards him with horror in your eyes.

“Ah, Akaashi, excellent! So glad you could join us!” Bokuto yells, walking away from you to clap him on the shoulder. “In fact, would you mind taking over from here? I just remembered I needed to attend to something back inside the castle. Thank you, Akaashi!” And then Bokuto just…leaves.

A shroud of silence covers the two of you – your attention is directed at anything but the object of your affections, choosing to focus on the dew of the grass, the glint of the light on your sword, the light morning breeze blowing past your stray hairs, the loose threads at the waist of your pants—

“Shall we begin?” He asks, breaking the tranquility.

Akaashi is infuriating; infuriatingly handsome, infuriatingly good at stripping down your defenses, infuriatingly adept at raising your heartbeat to an alarming rate. It’s simply unfair, and it angers you.

You say nothing while taking a few steps backward, your feet adjusting yourself in the same position that Bokuto had you stand in just mere minutes ago. Akaashi observes and also readies himself, his stance very similar to yours. Only seconds pass before he’s charging towards you, and the fight begins.

The first round falls in his favor, his face showing little reaction throughout the whole clash. You demand another round, barely giving time for a break because you’re brimming with the need to have some semblance of a victory. Weeks of pent up furious confusion make themselves known in the way you fight – you no longer move with the grace seen earlier with Bokuto. Instead, traces of sloppiness are there in your footwork and Akaashi takes advantage of this, though he begins to worry. If this were a real duel, you would’ve long fallen victim to his sword.

The second round lasts much longer than the first due to your obstinate refusal to back down and give up. Your braid had long come undone and Akaashi can’t help but think about how beautiful you look, even with your hair seemingly flying wildly every time you spin to try to catch him off guard. His split focus costs him when your weapons meet in the middle, allowing you to push and twist his hand around to force him to lose his grip. The metal is flung towards the side and he’s met with the shimmer of your sword that’s dangerously close to his jugular vein. He slowly brings his hands up in surrender and you falter.

Both of your chests rapidly rise and fall, lungs desperate for oxygen. Akaashi struggles to remember the last time you had put so much effort into a duel, your desperation to win screaming itself into the air. He notices how much thinner your face has gotten, how your arm slightly trembles with exhaustion. You need to rest and eat more, Akaashi concludes with furrowed eyebrows. Your well-being is of utmost importance to him.

You feel yourself begin to quiver under Akaashi’s stare, yet long to know what could be going through his mind. Even though you’ve won this round, Akaashi still has your heart and the thought somewhat embarrasses you. You’ve always prided yourself in being level-headed, yet you just spent the last thirty to forty-five minutes taking out all your frustrations on him.

“Have you been getting enough sleep, (y/n)?”

Don’t say my name like that.

“I don’t see why it matters,” you sigh, moving away to pick up his fallen sword.

“You need to look after yourself,” Akaashi replies, following after her with a slight sense of urgency. You whip around too fast for him to react, only groaning from the impact when you practically shove his weapon to his chest. Nothing prepared you for this conversation – you aren’t ready to have it, and you’d rather not have it with swords nearby.

“I am looking after myself, your highness,” you bite through gritted teeth. Your feet carry you as fast as possible towards the entrance back into the castle, but a hand latches onto your wrist and demands your attention. You have no choice but to turn your body towards him, denying that his eyes are flashing nothing but concern and frustration.

“You’re eating less. You’re always awake at odd hours. Your corsets are too tight – they look as if they’ll squeeze the life out of you. You keep pushing yourself too hard during sparring sessions. It takes you longer than usual to finish books. You’re under the sun too much—”

“You have no right!” you accuse, attempting to wriggle your wrist from his grip. Why does he speak as if he’s been keeping a watchful eye on you when he can barely meet your own over the dinner table?

Akaashi refuses to relent, even pulling you closer to him under the shadows of the doorway. “Please (y/n), you must know how much I worry—”

“Then pray tell, why have you ignored me since I stepped foot into your castle?!” You cry out, tears of vexation beginning to form. “Why have you ignored my very existence, as if we are twelve again and trying to escape something seemingly inevitable?! How could—how could you build me up for months and months, only to tear me down without a second thought?”

Akaashi knows his reasoning is botched and full of fallacies – he’s beginning to understand the extent of how much his actions have affected you, but he can’t help but try to save some face. His cool, collected façade and wisdom had long taken a backseat towards matters concerning you, and he feels like a fool. A big, bumbling, inexplicably irrational fool in love.  

“Princess—”

“I would have no qualms if you had just outright told me that you didn’t care for me,” you interrupt once more, though in a calmer tone. Your body is still shaking from the emotional downpour, tears streaking down your cheeks unattractively. You wish you could just take a horse from the stables and ride home, away from all this nonsense. “But you can’t write me those letters, the very ones that I’ve so deeply cherished this passing year, and treat me as if it were all some dream that my brain so desperately sprung together.”

“I have my deepest regrets – I’m so sorry, it’s just…with the way we greeted each other on the first day, I somehow convinced myself that you didn’t mean what you wrote—”

“Keiji,” you interrupt softly. How he wishes you were saying his name in a different context, in a tone that was full of love than disappointment. How he wishes there were no salty tears tracking down your cheeks. “You have known me for almost thirteen years. Thirteen long, playful, revealing years. Nothing ever escapes you, and you said so yourself; we are old friends. Therefore,” you pause, gulping.

“Shouldn’t you know that I would never pen those words to just anyone?”

And you disappear into the castle.

Akaashi feels that there’s nothing more appropriate than beating his head into the wall, cursing himself for being so stupid.

What have I done?

-

“I must say, in the most appropriate sense, you are truly, royally fucked.”

“I know, Bokuto. I know.”      

-

Akaashi tries to make up for his mistakes in his classic fashion: silently, with small thoughtful gifts.

He has resumed leaving flowers from the garden in your chambers again: some days, you return to a peony. Other days, you return to the addition a single rose in the ardent shade of passionate love. They accumulate on your dresser, your room becoming filled with the floral scents. The lingering fragrance haunts your dreams, filled with flashes of childhood memories and anticipated encounters at the masque. You often wake up feeling as if there’s a lead weight on your chest, and even though you physically slept for eight hours, the fatigue in your eyes vehemently argue otherwise.

Akaashi becomes insistent on escorting you everywhere, always offering his arm for you to take. At first, you’re hesitant, but just a day later, it becomes second nature. Akaashi joins you again when reading – if he can, he’ll take a seat next to you. If not, he’ll be sure to be across from you, though he’s not reading most of these times. He often carries a journal with him, assistants always prepared to provide him with a writing utensil and ink, and scribbles away. Akaashi has never held back his admiration for the world’s literature, and four days before your birthday, you pause in your reading to feed the curiosity.

“What are you scribbling in there, if I may ask?”

“A…personal work of sorts.”

“Your Highness, an author? I must say, it suits you. Is it a work of fiction?”

“Not this time,” he says with the ghost of a demure, secretive smile on his face. “You could consider it a memoir.”  

“If you say so.”

-

It had been decided some time ago that the ball would be held the night before your birthday, rather than the day of. These events were known to last well into the night, so at midnight, they would make an announcement in your honor and present you before everyone invited. With these change in plans, your original deadline for Akaashi to find you had to be moved ahead, and he was less than pleased to hear this the day before the ball, even though it was anticipated.

“Fifteen minutes is precious time, Princess,” Akaashi expresses with displeasure. “Could you permit me at least five ‘til midnight?”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, milord. I must have enough time to prepare myself.”

“Have I only been upgraded to being called ‘milord’?”

“How is it that your title irks you so?”

“Only when it’s coming from you, Princess. And I must say, you’re one to speak – don’t think I’m unaware of how much you greatly dislike it when you’re addressed as such. You’ve never bothered to correct me though. Why is that?”

“Perhaps…” you say, giving him a side glance full of mirth. “Perhaps you’re just an exception.”

Akaashi’s eyes widen a bit before crinkling with delight. You never cease to amaze him, reminding him at the most unexpected times that you are also invested in this growing relationship with him. He quickly looks around him before gently dragging you to the nearest empty bedroom, hoping that even though the walls have ears, they don’t have the eyes to witness this. Once the door is quietly shut behind him, Akaashi begins to take slow steps in your direction, towering over you and crowding you until your heels hit the wall. You struggle to maintain eye contact as well as keeping your breathing under control. Akaashi continues to pin you down with his piercing gaze, gradually bending down until he’s at eye level with you. Thoughts run amok in your brain as his face nears yours. Is he going to—

Your internal process ceases when he tenderly places a kiss at the corner of your lips, then moving until his breath is right by your ear. The sensation triggers a shiver down your spine, causing him to chuckle.

“To give you an idea of what I’d like my reward to be when I catch you tomorrow night, Princess,” he murmurs before moving away.

You’re blushing furiously no matter how much you fight it, barely registering when he lifts both of your hands to place a similarly gentle kiss on your touching knuckles. Part of you wants to protest when he steps towards the door and cracks it open, peeking out to see if anyone is lingering in the corridors. Akaashi keeps a hold on one of your hands, quickly leading you out and folding it into the crook of his other elbow. He fixes his gaze in front of him to bring on an air of normalcy, as if he didn’t just sneak you into a spare bedroom to do something that many would somewhat frown upon. Akaashi had yet to ask to formally court you, but he has full intentions to change that tomorrow night.

“Perhaps you’ll give me an insight on what you’ll be wearing tomorrow night?” He inquires cheekily and you send him your dirtiest glare.

“Only in your dreams, milord. Did you not read the part about making this harder on you so I could have some fun?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to have fun with each other?”

“Do you mean to tempt me?” You tease, chuckling into the back of your free hand.

“There was no guarantee that you’d refuse – am I not allowed to grasp onto any remaining hope?”

“Whatever satisfies you, milord.”

“Then let me find you tomorrow night. I don’t believe I’ll stand for any of the other suitors attempting to whisk you away with baseless words and ill intentions.”

“What would you know of their intentions?” You ask curiously, looking up towards him. His eyes darken and harden with an emotion you’re not familiar with. It’s one that is never directed towards you, almost dangerous in a way.

“More than you should know, Princess,” he replies gravely.

Before you realize it, you’re sitting in front of your vanity, sitting as prettily and patiently as you can while your handmaiden, Yachi, does her best work on your hair. You observe your current features – a faint blush had been dusted on your cheeks and a deep rouge painted on your lips. Your mask would be similar to many those of the other attendees, one more thing to pull in your favor in this game of cat and mouse.

Your heart begins to beat faster as the seconds tick by – there’s no doubt that Akaashi is already by his parents’ side, carrying a princely aura and politely greeting all the guests. The ball began at 9PM and it was already thirty minutes after. You can hear the faint sounds of the musicians playing up a lively theme, imagining that the festivities will be in full swing soon. Soon, your handmaiden is patting you on the shoulder, notifying you that she was done. In the mirror, you turn your head left and right and nod appreciatively, thanking her for her hard work. Your fingers shakily pick up your mask and Yachi ties it securely behind your head and underneath your hair.

“Do you think he’ll recognize me?” You ask nervously, fiddling your fingers in your lap. Yachi knew almost everything about the ordeal and had even come up with some good ideas to make things harder on the prince.

“If he keeps in mind that you’ll be the most beautiful maiden at the ball, then I’m sure he will,” Yachi giggles, tucking in some stray hairs.

“You’re not here to lie to me,” you whine, pouting slightly. “In all seriousness…”

“I have no doubt, milady,” Yachi says, her eyes and tone softening. “If His Highness likes you as much as he says he does, then he will certainly find you.”

You let out a deep breath before standing from your chair, the nerves beginning to course through your system. In the reflection, you gaze upon the line of flower-filled vases on your dresser, their presence somehow bringing you some serenity. Yachi is right -- with how much he boasted in letters about studying every memory he has of you, there should be a reasonable level of certainty that he would catch you by your deadline.

But now was the time to be festive. After all, the guests were here in your honor (and to have a joyous time) and you’d be rude to not partake in the activities. Some of the maids are bustling around, ensuring that drinks and food are readily available, never running low. The sound of your heels clicking along the granite echoes against the walls, yet your heartbeat seems louder and louder as you near the ballroom. The castle beholds two specific large ballrooms with double doors towards the courtyard, allowing the cool summer air in. You take a quick detour and choose to enter the ballroom from the outside, much less likely to arouse suspicion.

At least everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, you think to yourself with a smile. It’s easy to spot Bokuto in the crowd with that hair of his, just as you predicted. The band just finishes a song when you sneak in, yet starts up a familiar tune not long after. The piece calls for a large group to dance together, and wanting to join in, you make your way to the center. Luckily, one more female was needed and you are welcomed, as well as gently shoved to a tall man who seemed to be lacking a partner. It’s not hard to guess who it is, however. Even with a mask, you could recognize that crooked grin from anywhere.

As per tradition, he bows to you and you curtsy, then routinely placing your hand in his. He draws you close to him by the waist, but his grip is light and barely holds any weight on your back. Taking a quick once-over at the group, he addresses you.

“Should I be counting my lucky stars to be dancing with the princess in honor?” He teases just loud enough for you to hear. 

“I would advise against it, Prince Kuroo.”

A quiet laugh leaves his chest as he gives you a spin, flawlessly bring you back to him. “You can trust me, Princess. Bokuto has already informed me of the game in place, though I suppose it was more of a warning more than anything.”

“Oh, how so?”

“If I didn’t want to face the wrath of your dear prince, I should refrain from attempting to convince you that a merger between our kingdoms would be more ideal.”

“I must say, I’m a little surprised that Bokuto isn’t trying to stir up trouble.”

“I would advise against speaking too soon – he’s already on his third glass of mead.”

“Good gods,” you mutter in disbelief. Kuroo shakes with laughter.

“For my amusement, I’d like to see Akaashi be a clumsy fool in love. You have my word that I’ll keep this interaction secret for now,” he promises, rushing his words a little bit. Soon, the two of you will need to break apart and switch partners.

“But don’t forget to have a little fun. Happy birthday, Princess,” Kuroo says sincerely in your ear, sneaking in a quick kiss to the back of your hand before letting you go. You fall into the hands of another male, one you don’t recognize, and fall into silent routine until the dance is over. When the band comes to a stop, everybody bows to each other with a wide smile on their faces and cheeks tinted red from happiness. Momentarily, you had forgotten about your nerves and Akaashi, but now that there was nothing else to focus on, the shivers of being chased creep along your body.

In one sense, it’s almost thrilling. The thought has you questioning your own sanity, but perhaps it’s only because Akaashi is the one searching for you, finding the right time to pounce. As a result, you never stay in one place for too long, mingling into other crowds and making small talk. Very few have noticed who you were, and even Bokuto replaces his antics for a wink when he passes by you, knowing his usual behavior would give it all away.

The clock strikes eleven, each toll causing your heart to skip a beat. You grant yourself one more glance towards Akaashi.

Earlier during the dance, you had spotted him in the far corner of the ballroom staring in another direction. Now when you have the time to watch and appreciate, you can’t help but marvel at how beautiful this man is. Time boded well on him, his features and height resembling a strong, trustworthy young prince. He had the intellect and perceptive level worthy of being king, and even the atmosphere around him agreed. His head was fit to hold a crown, and any woman would fall at his feet in seconds. Tonight, he is donned in the kingdom’s colors, his own attire a regal show of ivory, ebony, and gold. The design is not overly ornate or flamboyant, yet regal enough to instantaneously remind others exactly who he is. Each hue makes him shine like a beacon of light in darkness.

Needing some fresh air, you slip out towards the courtyard and quietly make your way to the garden entrance. A couple of guards are standing watch but let you in once you untie the mask from your face. Your feet pad down a familiar path towards the rows of peonies and you’re thankful for the uninhibited rays of the full moon tonight. They’re cast in a soft glow of white and blue – you can’t help but tenderly touch petals of one half-open.

“I had an inkling that you would come here.”

The familiar tenor startles you out of your wits, your hand flying back up to your chest as you turn towards the perpetrator for your premature heart attack. None other than Prince Akaashi stands before you with his hands behind his back and a twinkle in his eyes. Then, the weight is lifted off your chest.

He had found you.

Once you catch your breath, you can only let out a suppressed laugh. There was nowhere to hide, not when your mask is grasped between the fingers of your other hand. He hadn’t even bothered to wear one, though you’ll scold him later for not participating in the festivities.

“I suppose you followed me here?”

“You could say that,” Akaashi replies with a smile, moving closer to stand right in front of you.

“It did take you over an hour and a half though.”

“(Y/n).”

“…yes, milord?”

“I noticed you the second you stepped into the ballroom.”

The statement baffles you and freezes you to the core. You find yourself unable to do anything when Akaashi grasps both of your hands in his, bringing them to his lips much like he did yesterday.

“Then why did you not come to me then?” You question after finding your voice again. Akaashi says nothing at first, only rearranging your limbs to a familiar posture for a waltz. He begins to step and lead, your own feet naturally following him as if you’ve been practicing this for a long time together. His silence makes you grow more unsure of all this.

“I wanted to observe, reconfirm my suspicions that I was already fully convinced on. In addition, I wanted you to enjoy yourself. You and our mothers have spent so many months preparing this – it’s only right that you enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

“Then you saw me dance?”

“Yes, and you were the best of them all,” he instantly compliments, always honest and straightforward to the point, sending blood to your cheeks.

“Thank you, milord,” you reply sheepishly.

“You’re welcome, Princess. Though I must say,” Akaashi’s tone turns dangerous, leaning over to whisper in your ear. He notices how your hands tighten their grips on his, perhaps trying to ground yourself. “Why did Prince Kuroo of Nekoma speak to you like this, so intimately? I thought, perhaps, this would also be left as a privilege solely for me?”

“He was doing just as you had warned before,” you chuckle, silently apologizing for pulling the wool over Kuroo’s eyes. Judging by the sharp inhale, Akaashi was less than pleased at what you were insinuating. “He may or may not have been attempting to persuade me into forming a more personal alliance with his kingdom.”

“Was he now…” Akaashi murmurs. In an effort to contain the green jealousy rising within him (and gain a little leverage), his hands slowly release yours to gently grasp your waist. For a moment, he wishes they were holding you this way in a different situation, but that doesn’t stop him from daringly ghosting his lips over the column of your neck, his breath sending goosebumps along your skin. You keep as still as possible, completely unsure of what to do. But if there’s one thing that is certain, it’s that no man could ever have an effect on you like Akaashi does.

“I have known you since you were young,” he proceeds. “And though we didn’t want anything to do with each other, we eventually grew accustomed to each other. Before I even realized it, I was watching your every move, listening to every word you said. Even when we were twelve, I found myself wanting to be near you. I wanted you to take notice of me just as I did you. When we were fifteen and you sat against me by the fireplace…there was the most wonderful sense of belonging, as if you were supposed to be right there by my side.”

Your heart might fail you at this point, aching for the man who was now lifting his head away to face you. The back of one hand lifts to caress your cheek, and your eyes catch the ardent passion in his, even in the moonlight.

“I penned those words to you with every intention of properly courting you. I wished for you to understand the lengths I would go to ensure your happiness. It was never about this merger between our kingdoms and hasn’t been for a long time. I only want you to know that should you allow me to, it would be my honor to court you and perhaps…be your husband.”

Unshed tears of joy are brimming in your eyes. Akaashi has suffered enough, you believe. A tear must have escaped because he catches it with his thumb, softly wiping it away. You can’t help but let out a breathless laugh, and Akaashi knows it’s a good sign. The smile on his face grows wider as you collect yourself to give your response.

“You do, after all, deserve a reward for finding me.”

Akaashi smirks and tilts his head forward, his lips millimeters away from yours.

“And what would that be, Princess?” He purrs.

Your heart takes a leap and you press your lips to his. Instantly, Akaashi cradles your face, refusing to separate from you. The first kiss is innocent and unmoving, allowing the both of you to revel in the sensation. A thrilling streak of adrenaline courses through your veins and sets your soul on fire as he puts more force, conveying to you his neediness and years of pent-up desire. You return it ounce for ounce until you can’t breathe anymore, pulling back to breathe in some much-needed oxygen. Akaashi doesn’t stop, sensuously kissing every available surface of your cheeks until he’s tired of waiting to kiss your lips once more. You give in and let yourself fall until the point of no return – even if Akaashi was the devil incarnate, you would gladly hand over your soul for an eternity of his love.

“As much as I want to continue this,” he states over bated breath. “We have a ball to return to.”

You sigh and nod, brushing your nose against his before allowing some distance between the two of you. Akaashi offers to tie the mask before taking hold of your hand, folding it into the crook of his elbow as he has done many times before. The two of you bide your time as much as possible, giving each other knowing glances when the courtyard is within your view again. Some of the ladies (and men) throw you nasty looks for having had private time with the prince, but none of it matters as Akaashi asks for a dance, spending the rest of the minutes until midnight with you in his arms.

After midnight strikes and being presented to the crowd, Akaashi keeps a hold on you again, ignoring the jeering and teasing gestures from Bokuto and Prince Kuroo. Kuroo, the ever honest yet playful man he is, sends you a wink behind Akaashi’s back and you bury your face into his chest. Whatever the cause may be, Akaashi continues to envelop you in his arms with a light and comfortable conversation taking place. As a natural silence passes over, he whispers into your ear, “Happy birthday, Princess.”

“Thank you, Keiji.”

Ecstasy fills his soul -- there hasn’t been anything more gratifying or more satisfying than hearing his name from your lips again. Finally, from now until death...he feels absolutely complete.