#i don’t really play fighting games but i really love testament they are everything to me they are so gender

[daeyumi]

Bone and blade 💀☠️🩸

[2023]

[thebunnednun]

Whispers of the Heart Dracule Mihawk x Fm! Reader (Part 1)

I could eat this fucking man up with a golden spoon.

Art by @xuchuan25 I hope you don't mind I really love your artwork!

ITS FINALLY GETTING POSTED

You've been Dracule Mihawk's personal maid and housekeeper for what feels like an eternity. Let's cut to the chase – you're a badass, sweetheart. Sexy, cool, and confident, with a reputation that precedes you. Been friends with the stoic man for eons by now.

Everyone knows you or knows of you, and it's not just because you keep Mihawk's castle running like a well-oiled machine.

So what happens when you develop feelings for your old friend and boss?

What does he do when he comes home to find you in his room without your panties?

__________________Chapter 1: Veiled Emotions___________________

You've been Dracule Mihawk's personal maid and housekeeper for what feels like an eternity. Let's cut to the chase – you're a formidable force, with a demeanor that's as captivating as it is commanding. Sexy, cool, and confident, your reputation precedes you wherever you go. It's not just because you keep Mihawk's castle running like a well-oiled machine; it's because you're a legend in your own right.

You and Mihawk share a history that stretches back to the tumultuous days of your youth, when you roamed the seas as a pirate queen. Despite the allure of power and prestige, you turned down an invitation to be a warlord, realizing that it wasn't the path for you. Sure, you could bring anyone to their knees with ease, but you craved something more than mere conquest.

Don’t get it twisted, you could still fight with one arm tied behind your back and you kept a blade on you at all times. But you wanted to live your life and until you figured out what to do, you were on hiatus. You wanted adventure, companionship, and a sense of purpose beyond just being a good pirate. So, you took a pause from piracy, sending your crew back home with ample spoils and staying in touch through letters that serve as a testament to your leadership.

(Who can blame them? Good bosses are hard to come by!~)

As for you, you couldn’t bear the idea of sailing alone aimlessly through the grandline. What would be the point if there was no one there to share it? It would kill your love of adventure and you’d capsize your own ship before that ever happened.

You also saw the way the world was slowly going to shit and just needed a break. Over time, as a favor to your old friend, you began to take over the castle duties while he was out, handling everything from the cleaning to the paperwork with effortless grace.

You’ve been at it for about three years now.

Mihawk was a very particular man and at the same time he wasn’t. Old eagle eyes likes his wine just so and his jackets to be put away according to color. But he won’t play the worlds game on anyone else's terms but his own. That, you both have in common.

As for the warlord incident, your notoriety stemmed from an encounter with the infamous battle ax Morgan. His bruised ego led to a reckless attempt to have you arrested after you turned down his advances and refused to entertain his delusions of an exclusive relationship. Morgan couldn't handle rejection, especially from a woman as striking as you. However, you swiftly dealt with the situation, turning the tables on him in a manner that became the stuff of legends among pirates and marines alike.

In retaliation for his embarrassment, Morgan unleashed a storm of accusations, plastering your face on wanted posters across every marine outpost. Your captivating appearance, with your (H/c) locks and (E/c) eyes, only served to amplify the fervor surrounding your bounty. Despite the chaos that ensued, you stood your ground, refusing to let Morgan's vendetta dictate your fate.

It was during this tumultuous time that Mihawk extended a lifeline, offering you a sanctuary within the walls of his castle.

Having just laid off your crew, this job offered you somewhere to stay and he could provide some sort of protection while you figured things out. All in all, it was a very sweet deal.

But beneath the surface of this professional arrangement, there are tensions simmering tensions of the sexy variety. You've noticed Mihawk's lingering stares when he believes you're not watching, and felt the subtle brush of his touch as you pass each other in the grand halls of his castle.

And yet, despite the undeniable chemistry between you, neither of you has dared to act on your feelings. After all, you're the maid, and he's the master of the castle. But as the days go by and the tension between you reaches its boiling point, you find yourself wondering how much do you and your boss really care for each other?

Whether it's a late-night encounter in the dimly lit corridors of the castle or a trip to the market in the bustling streets of the nearby town, each moment serves as a reminder of the unspoken bond that exists between you. The man could live in silence if he wanted to.

But you would miss that lovely deep voice.

On a crisp morning, as Mihawk made his way through the halls of his castle, he couldn't help but notice you weren't bustling about, but your vibrant laughter was echoing through the corridors. oon, he found himself standing in the doorway of the kitchen, where you were engrossed in the task of sorting through a stack of mail, undoubtedly from your former crew members.

With a pen poised in one hand, you worked with practiced efficiency, your every movement is a testament to your grace. Across from you, a forgotten cup of coffee awaited, a silent companion to your morning routine and some left over pie from last nights dinner.

"[Name], do try to be more discreet with your antics," Mihawk remarked, amusement lacing his tone as he observed your playful demeanor. You turned to face him, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you met his gaze.

"Oh, but where's the fun in that, 'Master' Mihawk?" you retorted, a playful smirk gracing your lips. Today, you were adorned in a cute black top paired with low-rise flared acid wash jeans, the lace crosses on the back pockets adding a touch of sexy to your ensemble.

Your ears sparkled with golden hoops and diamond studs, a testament to your bold sense of style. Around your neck, a delicate chain held a gold and slider cross, a thoughtful gift from Mihawk himself. Your fingers were adorned with an array of rings, each one a testament to your unique personality and taste.

With a touch of sparkly nude eyeshadow and deep pink lip gloss, you exuded an air of effortless beauty. Even your nails, with their French tip design and hints of pink and sage green, spoke to your attention to detail and love for all things glamorous.

Look, you’re an ex-pirate but still a pirate. You like gold, okay!

Mihawk couldn't suppress a subtle eye-roll at your retort, his stoic demeanor momentarily softened by your infectious energy. Despite the playful banter, there lingered a mutual respect in your exchange, a testament to the genuine friendship that had developed between you.

Of course, he certainly didn't allow his thoughts to wander to the sensation of your lips against his skin, despite the tempting notion.

His eyes totally didn’t flick over your lips and wonder what it would have felt like to have your sticky kisses decorate his body.

Instead, he held his typical emotionless expression and took a seat across from you. Looking at the counter he noticed you only had coffee and leftover pie for breakfast.

“Not very hungry, my dear?”

You waved your hand dismissively, eyes glued to the letter before you. “I felt kind’ve sick last night. But don't worry, Perona had a proper breakfast.” You and his young ward had become instant friends when you first arrived. She was happy to have some real company and you even gave her a key to your chambers for emergencies and late night cookies.

Mihawk acknowledged your words with a subtle nod before returning his attention to the newspaper in his hands. It was a habitual gesture that never failed to amuse you, considering his apparent disinterest in the affairs of others. Yet, despite his indifference, he maintained the routine with unwavering consistency.

As his intense gaze bore into your face, you deliberately focused on the task at hand, busying yourself with another letter and the remnants of your pie. Ordinarily, the weight of his stare might have unsettled someone, but you recognized that beneath the facade of the "greatest swordsman in the world" lay a man with his own quirks and idiosyncrasies, much like anyone else.

Spooning another bite of your pie, your cheeks offered a very pleasant rosy glow in the early morning light. When you arrived at Kuraigana Castle, you told Mihawk to ditch the darkness. Straight up refused to live in the depressing atmosphere and threatened to throw out his old dusty ass curtains if he didn’t get his shit together. Mihawk had initially resisted the changes but told you to do as you pleased when you threatened to give him and Shanks matching arms.

(That would be some Naruto and Sasuke shit right there.)

However, he was all the more glad to see your features in the light. You weren’t unbearable to his feelings either. You respected that he needed some shade and allowed the dining room to have a night blend of night. The whole of the castle was like that now with some areas being bright and cheerful and others more dark and deserted. Even Perona gravitated towards the lighter rooms to find you cleaning or simply wanting your attention.

In the quiet moments between your duties, you find yourself reflecting on the depth of your connection with Mihawk. You remember the countless times he's shown you kindness, the way he's trusted you with the inner workings of his castle, and the rare glimpses of vulnerability he's allowed you to see. And as you ponder these memories, you can't help but wonder if there's more to your relationship than meets the eye.

The man truly does value his space. Even when you would bump into old friends like a certain clown he insisted you did not swap addresses for the sake of, "That Blue haired freak," not popping up unannounced. Or how he'd always been close by when you were teenagers and running rampant with a red haired young man. The times where he would escort you to social events only to slip away with you before the party was over. It was him offering you a place to stay after becoming a wanted woman for crimes you did not commit.

Moments where you found yourself bathed in the golden warmth of his eyes.

But just as you begin to contemplate the possibilities, your mind intervenes once again. Flashing you back to a few months ago. It was a frigid winter evening when you found yourself ensconced in the castle's library, surrounded by the flickering glow of candlelight and the comforting scent of weathered tomes. The air hummed with an unspoken tension, each movement you made sending ripples of awareness through the stillness.

Winter was always harsh on you, coming from an island that never really subscribed to the notion of cold weather. You were more built for tropical weather and humid conditions. Where on one side of your island it could be raining and the other could be sunny and dry. You'd never even seen snow before until you set out as a young pirate.

The old castle was too large to light fires in all the rooms, so it made more sense to keep them limited to the common areas like the kitchens, drawing room, your bed chambers, and (of course) the library.

You were laying in the warlords lap, actually. A thick book in his hand and a left over crossword puzzle in yours. Every now and then, he would softly stroke your spine as if you were a freighted cat. You'd taken to curling up like this out of habit and because of your dislike of cold weather.

Mihawk loves personal space but you'd taken to perching on him for years. If you asked to rest your head on his shoulder, he would respond with a soft hum of agreement, though he pretended not to notice as you snuggled closer, seeking the warmth of his embrace.

Even at social gatherings, you had no qualms about stretching out your legs across his lap, feeling his big, strong hands gently resting on them for all to see. And if luck was on your side, he might even share a dance with you, his presence grounding you and filling you with a sense of contentment amidst the chaos of the party.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Mihawk breaks the silence, his voice a low, husky murmur cutting through the quiet. "You know," he begins, his words carrying a weight of sincerity, "I've always admired your compassion and resilience."

His unexpected admission catches you off guard, your breath hitching momentarily as you process his words. Gathering your composure, you respond in kind, your voice a mere whisper against the backdrop of the library's hushed ambiance. "And I've always admired your grace and composure, Master Mihawk."

For an instant, the air between you crackles with an electric energy, the unspoken truths hanging palpably in the space between you. As if drawn by an invisible force, you sit a little taller, the weight of the moment pressing down upon you. Then, without warning, Mihawk reaches out, his hand enveloping yours in a gentle grasp.

A rush of warmth floods through your veins at his touch, a silent reassurance amidst the quietude of the library. His thumb traces soothing circles on the back of your hand, a gesture both comforting and intimate, before he releases you, returning to his book as if nothing had transpired.

You 'playfully' bit his large thigh over that.

Moments like that with Mihawk were rare but not uncommon somehow. You were always respected by him for your personal strength and reliance. Mihawk respected dedication and honor. You had a multitude of qualities he secretly liked, not that you were fully aware, anyway.

His voice intruded on this memory to snap you back to the present.

"Perhaps it's time we ceased this dance, [Name]," he murmurs, his gaze smoldering with a flicker of desire. "Perhaps it's time we embraced what has lingered between us all this while."

Your heart quickens its pace within your chest as you lock eyes with him, a whirlwind of thoughts cascading through your mind. In that pivotal moment, teetering on the edge of something unknown and exhilarating, you recognize the undeniable bond that binds you to Mihawk—a connection that defies the constraints of social hierarchy and ignites with an intensity that cannot be suppressed.

Or so you envisioned, until he swiftly swipes the last piece of your pie and runs from the kitchens, prompting you to vault over the counter in a spirited attempt to stab his trachea with your fork as he began running down the hallway.

“I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON IT, ASS-EYES!”

Making to the stairs, Mihawk closed his eyes and let out a soft hum before delving into his (your) pie, savoring each bite with a sense of contentment. Your presence offered a refreshing reprieve from the weighty responsibilities that burdened him, your playful banter injecting a lighthearted energy into the morning. You trying to stab him was thought of affectionately, as well.~

What a delightful breakfast it was within the walls of Castle Kuraigana!

Later, as Mihawk retreated to his chambers, a persistent curiosity lingered within him, tugging at the corners of his mind. What was it about you that captivated him so, he wondered? And why did your essence linger in his thoughts long after you had disappeared from his sight?

Lost in contemplation, Mihawk was roused from his reverie by a soft murmur that drifted through the open window, drawing his gaze downwards. There, he spied you and Perona engaged in conversation, your voices carrying on the breeze.

"...and I heard that he's quite taken with someone," Perona remarked mischievously, casting a glance towards the castle. The pair strolled through the tall grass grounds hand in hand, a scene that elicited a faint smile from Mihawk. He could tell from your firm steps that you had decided to go barefoot. Your quirks never failed to amuse him.

In the spring and summer, you had a steadfast refusal to wear anything other than cute heeled sandals or durable tennis shoes. This wasn't just a matter of practicality; it was a reflection of your upbringing on an island where both children and adults embraced the freedom of going barefoot during the hot months. The fact that Mihawk effortlessly recalled these details about you spoke volumes about the depth of his observations, even if he didn't consciously realize it.

Unconsciously, he found himself craning his neck so you may take up his vision.

As Perona guided you through the tall grass, she paused at a patch of wild daisies, prompting a soft chuckle to escape your lips. Your gaze drifted into the distance as you replied, "Well, I suppose we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"

Mihawk felt a sudden skip in his typically cold heart at your words, a glimmer of hope stirring within him. Could it be that you harbored feelings for him as well? The mere thought sent a rush of warmth through his veins, fueling his resolve to uncover the truth behind your feelings.

With a newfound determination, Mihawk silently vowed to delve deeper into the enigma of your emotions, eager to unravel the mysteries of your heart.

______________________________________________________________

Part 2: Posted Here Part 3: Posted Here

Part 4: Right here baby!~

Part 5 now posted.

The coffee and leftover pie part are a nod to Laufys ,"Let you break my heart again," give it a listen as it goes well with the story.

This is also posted on the a03 account by the same name. A new update post will also be out tomorrow regarding updates and new stories.

Please check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. Drop a follow as well if you please.

Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

[vitos-ordination-song]

There’s lots of things I could note about my Evangelical upbringing but I’d say one of the ways that adults demonstrated their authority was by restricting normal child behaviors and enforcing boredom. That’s true of child socialization in many places around the world, especially in school contexts, but mine had that religious dimension. And it was something my parents enjoyed doing.

It wasn’t until the last few years that I realized that other churches didn’t have hour+ long sermons. And mine were always boring. I actually loved the music, I think my church had good music esp for the type of church it was, its parent church was way more megachurch shit. But the sermons were devoid of meaning or always on the same 2 facile themes, always a white male 40s-70s preacher. I don’t remember any hate spewing from the pulpit or anything much political, but I could be forgetting things bc 1) I was young and indoctrinated myself, 2) I just don’t remember the sermons at all bc there was nothing to them! Not a one was memorable or stuck with me. So every church service turned into me sitting and staring at the ceiling. I remember some people came and went from the auditorium but my parents judged them and forced us to attend even tho most other parents allowed their kids to go to the kid services (I went to them sometimes but I remember a particular episode where my dad forced me to stay in the service even tho it started snowing and all the other kids went outside!! It barely snowed where I grew up I was so pissed).

School had its normal boringness and in elementary/middle school i only had occasional religious services in school. But then in high school I went to a MUCH worse school, both educationally and politically. And my first school taught young earth creationism so that should tell you something. The religious service was held weekly, had AWFUL modern Christian rock, and featured manipulative youth pastor speakers or testaments. Their speeches were usually at least 30 minutes and sometimes strayed into hate or politics or shaming. Then at this school I had to go to Christian retreats where they tried to psychologically break you down through music and manipulation, they made us do awful games and “team building exercises,” and the sermons were THREE TO SIX HOURS A DAY. One of the preachers my first year went on a rant about how God knew if you were “in this room right now” and didn’t believe in him. It freaked me out because I wasn’t a Christian by the end of middle school and I’d gone to this school against my will, which made everything worse! I had mental a breakdown every time I was on that trip.

My parents would do stuff like make us sit and watch long boring movies or Christian/political propaganda. I was taken to an anti-Obama movie which played into the “he might be Muslim” thing, I was forced to watch PragerU at the dinner table, I was forced to watch a creationist movie, I had to listen to Rush Limbaugh until I literally cut my parents off bc they were obsessed w him, and I saw Dennis Prager himself live with my mom, against my will, with one of her ghoulish friends! Beyond all that boring and stressful waste of time, my parents also forced us to sit at the dinner table “as a family” most nights. We had to eat even if we didn’t want to and sometimes talk if we didn’t want to; other times we were expected to stay silent. Usually dinner was longer than an hour, often marked by adult outbursts or childish fighting (w each other or parents). You had to sit at the table until you finished everything they told you you had to finish. So more just sitting around because someone has arbitrary control.

It’s no wonder i had to completely remake my personality, learn everything over again, and get out of that environment to be who I really wanted to be. And also no wonder that I now try to keep myself occupied if not always plugged in.

[rcksmith]

Lust — Kaz Brekker

Gif by @kitsyoung

Request: “Hey. I really like your writing and I was wondering if you would consider writing a Kaz piece with the smut prompts 76, 1 & 33. Obviously with your au rules. If it’s too much I completely understand tho”

“7, 17, 36, and 73 from the smut list for Kaz Brekker please? If not, no worries! 💖 Thank you!”

“Holy shit that last kaz brekker smut- AMAZING. Was wondering if you could write another smut with smut prompt #6? Of course if this bothers you just ignore it. Thank you so much 🥰”

Smut prompts:

1. “You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat.”

6. “Do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

7. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

17. “after that little stunt? you’re not getting off that easy”

33. “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to.”

36. "If I have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.“

73. “You know, you look real pretty when you cry.”

76. “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, explicit smut, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, nsfw, jealous, mention of fight.

Word count: 5k

A/N: All smut requests for Kaz must follow these rules.

Thank you so much for the requests and for all affection 💖 I decided to compile these requests, since they were the same central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. I hope you like it and good reading.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — — —

There is a theory that always, somewhere, there will be a person capable of making you lose your breath, and your reasoning, whenever he appears on the scene. Someone who robs you of your breath, your heartbeat, your ability to think clearly and your control to keep your hands not shaking.

And Kaz Brekker would always be that person for you.

From the first time you laid eyes on him, it's been a feeling of dying and going to heaven. Except that Heaven was, in reality, a hot, burning hell. Where your greatest punishment was being forced to watch his tall figure, who exuded masculinity by every inch, walking in front of you like a Renaissance painting very superb.

Nothing that Van Gogh, Da Vinci, and Picasso created has bordered on the personification of beauty that he was.

Kaz was beautiful in a very mysterious, dangerous and chilling way. You would describe his aura as the height of midnight in an enigmatic city, his hair the color of the core of sin and his features as lines that the god Ares would have drawn. Everything about him reeked of the fog of suspense stories, with a touch of lust.

All the looks he directed at you were caustic, flickering and intense as a candle flame, reverberating through your veins like angry eels and always make the room feeling charged with electricity, like the ground after the fall of a lightning. Everything between the two of you seemed to be filled with something fiery and arcane. From the gazes, the rubbing of shoulders, the times when the skins touched. Everything was a compilation of sensations that make you catch your breath whenever Kaz Brekker appeared.

He was your kryptonite. In all senses.

And that was exasperating in the extreme, at staggering levels. You felt your center of your sex vibrate whenever he directed you that voice whit baritone intonation and predatory looks, whenever the button-down shirts were tight enough for you to revel in the contours of his body, or sometimes when he wore the cane to signal or stopper something. This was the worst of them. His cane.

Have you lost count of how many times Kaz stopped you as counting money, by putting the tip of the cane over your hands, or stopped you from going somewhere by blocking your path with the cane, lifting the object horizontally in front of your belly. And every time you felt your legs tremble, your breath fade and a very dirty part of your brain whisper that you wanted him to use that object in you in more fun ways.

Your body was so responsive that there were times when you knew, with every fiber of your soul, that Kaz was able to read the paths in which your thoughts wandered. He lowered his gaze to you, in that breathless connection that promised to contain the most nefarious paths of sin, and maliciously curved the left corner of his lips in an arrogant, oblique expression. At such times, you could feel in your soul the words he did not say:

I know the perverted things that you are thinking.

And the truth was, he really knew. Kaz memorized every change in your breathing, every blush on your cheeks, every trembling of your hands, every your trembling look whit a frightened girl who had been caught thinking of something impure. He knew how your body was responsive, needy. And he himself had to control himself not to push you over the desk in his office and fuck you like an aggressive animal, bringing all your perverted thoughts to life.

It wasn't his physical reactions that kept him from taking action, but an even more visseral reaction than the pulsing desire he felt for you. Mine. The primal, determined, burning sensation of possession. That it ran through his veins like hot, bubbling lava. The desire was familiar, but this statement, not. Like the jealousy he felt for you, he quickly recognized the danger he was in.

If Kaz touched you…he knew he would never be able to let you go.

Mine. A statement that resonated spontaneously whenever he saw you, a testament to the reactions the two of you triggered in each other. However, not even the awareness of the dangerous game that was between you was able to dispel the climate of provocative sensuality that pulsed in the places whenever the two of you were together.

It was like playing with a powerful drug. One slip and he would be addicted forever.

On days like this, when Kaz had just come out of an exasperating meeting with Peka, a businessman and mobster who was always looking for ways to try and bring Kaz down, his already bad temper turned to terrible. He felt compelled to break something, drink a whole bottle of the best English whiskey in that club, and punch someone. Kaz felt the anger pulse through his veins, in a pure and perfect way.

He left the office, turning off his cell phone so he wouldn't be disturbed and descending the stairs to the center of his Crow Club, mind buzzing and anger seeping in his blood. He needed to unwind, maybe get into the car and head home. Maybe actually drink that whiskey bottle. Maybe both.

Kaz was about to take another step down, running a gloved hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes, when his gaze met your figure. And that was when the already terrible temper rose to the very badly.

Normally, a vision like that would have just bothered him, a compulsion to do something. But that day, Kaz was at the height of his angriest feelings. And seeing you, bold as a goddess in that little black dress, next to Jesper at the gambling table and flirting with a guy to your left, did things with every last bit of patience and self-control he had.

His eyes never left you as he took another step, running his hand through his hair again to contain the unruly strands. You were laughing, downing another drink and placing a card on the table. You turn back to the man to your left, your eyelashes fluttered gracefully in a promise to allow him to guide your rein tonight.

But there would be no goddamn rein for that fucking guy to guide.

Kaz gripped his cane tightly, descending the other short stairs and advancing toward your with dangerous, determined, and angry steps.

"...in this part of the year, criminal law cases drop a lot." The damn guy was telling you, his boring blond hair falling over his blue eyes in a way Kaz found annoying.

To fucking hell with that blond-haired Dande.

“Y/n, Jesper!” Kaz tapped the end of his cane on the table, stopping the cards under the polished wooden end.

Everyone at the table looked at him startled, their actions frozen. He saw you swallow hard, a soft tremor sigh in your shoulders.

Good!

“Shouldn't you be at the door?” Kaz turned to Jesper, his eyes sparks with annoyance.

“Right now, Boss.” He stood up, giving you a strained smile and heading towards the door.

“Kaz…” You started, voice softly intoxicated.

You knew you weren't supposed to be at the gambling table, let alone so late at night and drunk, even if Jesper was by your side. You had the ability to win every play, in any game, and that ended up not only driving the others away, but leaving the men, already drunk and irrational, aggressive and with an extremely bruised ego. And they almost always wanted to retaliate physically. As much as there were security guards and cameras everywhere to keep something bad from happening, Kaz couldn't stand the thought of someone hurting you. Not even blinking insultingly in your direction.

He sent you an icy, sharp, steady look. A clear warning for you to stop there any excuse you were about to give. To be careful with the next words you would say. You swallowed hard, looking away and getting up from the table. Slightly wobbly from the drink, you fished your coat from the chair next to you, giving a strained, apologetic smile to the guy you'd been flirting with so far.

“I better go home and call an uber and…” You started, but Kaz cut your sentence.

“I'll driver you.”

His tone exuded annoyance and impatience, giving no opening to any objections, demonstrating that he was in no mood for games. Much less defiance of his orders. You knew him too well to recognize that that night had pulled his nerves beyond what he could handle, the strain and irritation in his eyes told you something had happened beyond what you knew. His jaw, straight and strong as glass, was clenched tightly, his night-colored hair was disheveled in an overwhelmingly attractive way, and his black robes sinfully marred every line of his body.

You should have become wary of the dangerous energy that he exuded through every pore at that moment. However, to your inebriated and excited brain, Kaz Brekker has never looked so fucking hot! Your underbelly vibrated in response to the personification of sin that Kaz was, your heart racing at alarming levels as you followed him out, walking over to his car.

Like every piece of Brekker's clothing, his car was sleek black, with big black wheels, tinted glass and dark leather seats. Hades' chariot. You felt your breath catch when Kaz opened the passenger door for you, his eyes avoiding yours, his jaw still clenched and dangerous energy exhaling through every fiber of his tall, lean body.

Holy Mother of God, this man was a perdition!

Kaz contained an instinctive desire to go back inside and tell that aspiring Dande that you weren't available. Instead, he closed the door when you got in and turned around in the car, closing his own and squeezing the steering wheel harder than he would have liked.

Midnight height light streamed in through the darkened car windows and gently illuminated the curve of your cheek, highlighting your skin that Kaz might have named the color of the gods. So much attention was too seductive. Emotions and reactions still bubbled through each his vein like scandant water, mingling with months of frustrated desires and burning sexual tension.

At that moment, jealousy laced him. Mine. Amazing and at the same time propelled by dangerous strength, Kaz tried to trap that feeling back into the dungeon of his soul. He controlled his fury, yet he couldn't completely tame. Annoyance turned to anger. Starting driving the car forward, Kaz tried to think of anything but how you looked like the Goddess Aphrodite on that dark bench. Splendid as a heat ray in a winter day.

“Kaz…” You started, that gentle, repentant tone that stirred every spark in his soul.

He hated how his name on your lips sounded so sensual, so right and so delicious. He would give everything he had to hear you moan his name.

“Don't start” he warned, now not because of latent annoyance, but because he didn't know if he could stop himself if he heard your voice.

However, you didn't make things any easier for him.

"You don't have to be so angry." You go "I wasn't even using all my intellect on the game, I wasn't trying to win."

Kaz didn't even know if that was the core of the problem anymore. Was he angry that you went to a table where it was dangerous? Yes. But the waters were much deeper than that, much more dangerous. The way your smile, sweet and sensual, was directed at that guy, reeled in Kaz's mind, impregnated with the plague. He felt the blood burn in his veins just remembering how melted you looked for that man. And as much as he couldn't blame you, because you were free and single, the primal, irrational part of him screamed so much louder now.

Mine.

“This does not matter anymore.” It was the only thing he managed to say, the very sensations drowning him.

“And it wasn't even that dangerous.” But unlike him, you were obliterating the burning emotions that Kaz exuded. “There were only a few players drunker than a door, and Jesper was on my side, and also James, who was very charming and...”

Kaz almost lost direction, making the car bounce smoothly. He staked his eyes at you, puzzled and bubbling.

“James?”

“Yeah, the blond guy who…”

"I don't want to know, Y/n." He cut you off "I don't want to hear about the guys you allow to drool around you like mangy dogs."

The distilled rage was impossible to contain, and before Kaz knew it, the words were out. He turned forward again, his hands tighter on the steering wheel.

“Wait…” Your tone was slightly smug, and the way you rubbed one thigh against the other was impossible for Kaz to miss.

The grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“You are jealous?” Your intonation dropped to a low, sensual, provocative level.

Suddenly, Kaz's entire body became very aware of your body inches away. He could feel the heat that you radiated and the lyrical, sweet and sinful scent of your perfume flooded all his senses. The air grew thin, puffy and stuffy, and if it had been December cold outside, Kaz would still feel the height of summer in that car. Flashes of excitement and danger rippled through the car, and the brief silence grew even more charged with sexual tension and lustful anticipation that stirred every fiber of Kaz's being.

He made the mistake of looking at you again, and your softly mischievous smile that promised a lifetime of satisfied desires only served to incite his madness. Kaz had never understood how a man could want a woman so badly that he acted irrationally and carelessly. But now he understood. And when he realized you tried to stifle a sensual sigh from the way he was looking at you, his body won the fight against his mind and Kaz stopped abruptly the car at the red traffic light.

The sexual tension between you had become unbearable. In one moment, Kaz was fighting the series of overwhelming and disturbing emotions that dominated his entire being, and in the next moment, he had taken your mouth with his in a fiery, fierce, animal kiss. Stealing all the air from both of you, his thoughts, and his sanity.

He held your face firmly in his hands, his fingers going down to the strands of hair at the nape of your neck, turning everything into something more caustic and desperate. Yours hands went to his arms, moving up to his shoulders and cupping the sides of his neck, pulling him closer. Kaz's tongue inched into your mouth without waiting for permission, conquering and claiming every fiber of your body, of your soul, in a continued of kisses you couldn't tell where one ended and another began.

The moan of satisfaction you let out gave him a lust and desire unlike anything Brekker had ever felt. Like hot, addictive honey down in his throat. He was still gripped by jealousy, annoyance and possessiveness. With the desire for you pulsing in his body just like his heartbeat.

Kaz pulled back millimetrically, his blue eyes overshadowed by the heat of the moment, his lips red and swollen from the sinful kisses he gave you. At that moment, Kaz Brekker looked like an angry young God, and you've never felt more attracted to someone in your life than you are now.

You looked at him, panting and needy, wishing with all your might that he repeat the same actions. And you knew he realized that. Perfectly. You saw the spark of male satisfaction ignite in his eyes as he absorbed your desire. He was so close... so very close, and you couldn't stand the enormous anxiety for a caress, a kiss, anything.

His cocky smile intensified as you put more pressure in your touch his skin, your fingers trailing down his neck and back to his shoulders, silently pleading for him to do something with you. Anything he wanted.

Kaz lowered his one gloved hand to your jaw, thumb and forefinger squeezing your chin and making you look at him directly, you staring into the deep, shrewd blue of his eyes. He pulled you closer by the grip on your chin, the husky, erotic words hitting your lips like a promise of sin as he said:

“Maybe I should get you a collar so you don't forget who you belong to.”

It was impossible to control the loud, needy sigh that escaped, your center throbbing in despair and wetting the thin cloth of your panties. You wanted he to touch you more, pull your body against his until there was not a single sigh left, claim your soul and your body as his. You had parted your lips to say something, most likely a plea for him to continue, but the traffic light turned green and Kaz took his hands off you, straightening up on the bench and putting the car move.

In the absence of his warmth, his body, you felt cold, empty and frozen. As if Kaz were your sun and you were Icarus. Feeling the compulsion to need to get closer, complete its magnitude and bask in his rays. Every cell in your body begged for him, in needy and submissive requests, telling you to accept anything he told you, that he gave you, as long as it touched you.

“If I knew that to make you kiss me I would have to flirt with someone else, I would have done it a long time ago.” You teased, a satisfied, malicious smile on your lips.

Kaz looked at you in annoyance. In a clear warning that you should never more do that again.

"If you wanted me to kiss you like the brat you are, you just needed to have asked." He countered your game to the full.

"But if I want more than that?" But just as he knew how to play, so did you.

You swiped the tip of your tongue across your lips, kicking off your shoes and pulling your legs over the dashboard of the car, exposing your nearly bare thighs through the thin black fabric of your dress. Your actions instantly caught Kaz's eyes, and his grip on the steering wheel grew stronger and his breathing heavier.

The air inside the car became more ardent, burn, charged with eroticism and lust that left both of you breathless. An electrifying energy coursed through their bodies, as if they had been struck by a bolt of fire. You wanted him in a way you never thought you could want anyone.

Kaz took a deep breath, and looked at you with dangerous predator eyes as he said:

"If I have to pull over, you won't be able to walk for the next week."

The words made your body tremble. But if Kaz was trying to dissuade you, that was the last thing he should have told you. Instead of taming the fire inside you, it threw gasoline into the aggressive fire. You pressed your thighs together, your body sensitive to his words filled with burning promise.

In five minutes of insane courage, you took your feet off the dashboard, leaned toward Kaz, and brushed his neck with your lips. In slow, burning, hot kisses, you traced a path to the pulse in his neck, opening your lips slightly to brush your tongue over that pulse point.

“Please.” You beg.

Kaz's moan was low, but loud enough in your mind. You were being his undoing and you knew it. Suddenly, the car veered to the right and came to an abrupt stop. You would have lost your balance if Kaz's hands hadn't clung to your waist, pulling you in one movement to his left thigh, pressing your soaked core into the black fabric of his pants.

You gasped loudly, or he, or both. And in the next moment, his mouth was on yours again. The kiss was more aggressive, possessive, angry and ardent. Kaz kissed you as if he wanted to decree you his, proclaim his possession. You didn't see when he removed his gloves, but the touch of his skin with on your thighs was all you could think of.

“Kaz…” You moaned into his mouth, and the grip on your thighs moved up to your hip, digging his fingers into your thin dress-covered skin with such force it was sure to leave marks tomorrow. "Please."

You knew what you were begging for, but the moment Kaz forced your waist to move against his thigh, rubbing your pulsing core against his thigh, you forgot even your own name. And Kaz knew it. Then, like dominant man who wanted to see you surrendered to him that he was, his mouth went to your ear as he whispered:

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Kaz wiggled his thigh against you, making your clit roll against the soggy fabric of your panties.

You moaned loudly, your hands tightening on his shirt, your face hiding in his chest as an overwhelming, aching pleasure invaded your system. It felt good, but unbearable for being so little, churning something in your belly that made you despair for more.

"Y-yes." You whimpered, rolling your hips on his thigh.

Kaz's bare hand crept up the slit between your thighs, your dress already balled up at the top of your waist, and dipped his fingers into the juncture of your pussy and his thigh, pulling your panties to the side and making you feel the fabric of his dark pants against your wet, hot flesh. You moaned louder, your grip on his shirt tighter and your hips rocked harder for have any friction.

“Do you want me to fuck you like the little slut you are? Is that what you've wanted all this time?” His words, husky and strong, in that intense, dominant intonation, sent all your self-control to hell.

"Yes." You sobbed. “I-I need you."

But his hand in your panties went up to your chin, and he forced you to look him in the eye once more. The electric intensity of that look turned you on even more, making you gasp as his thigh still rocked against your throbbing clit.

“After that little stunt? you’re not getting off that easy” It was very hard to think with all the stimuli he was giving you, but the thunderous blue eyes warned you to pay attention to his words “Do you think you deserve me to fuck you?”

His gaze invaded you so deep and so warm and intense that you wondered if he was trying to leave a burning imprint on your soul. All over your body, overwhelming desires resonated, and you gave in to the compulsion to roll his thigh further, whimpering from the pressure on your clit.

"I'm s-so sorry." You whimpered, eyes pleading with he "It won't happen again."

"Won't happen what?" He tightened his grip on your chin, not painfully, but firmly to get your attention.

"It won't happen again, Sir."

The reward for your obedience came in an aggressive, hungry kiss, his hand in your chin dropping for your hip and wiggle his thigh at your needy pussy.

"Do you want to cum?" He teased you.

"Yes, S-sir."

"The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."

Then, as if to reiterate his statement, his mouth clutte to yours once more, his thigh swayed with more vigor and his bare hands moved up to the neckline of your dress.

His warm palms and long fingers lowered the straps of your dress and released your braless breasts, your nipples hard with pleasure and your breasts swollen with arousal.

Your moan was muffled by Kaz's, and he just released your mouth to lower his lips to your left breast, capturing the innocent nipple with his mouth and rolling his tongue across your flesh. You moaned louder, your waist twisting desperately against his thigh as your hands tangled in the strands of his black hair.

Kaz delighted in every inch of you, his hands going back to your waist as his mouth attacked your other breast, leaving a trail of hot saliva on his tight, needy nipples. Brekker was consumed by a fierce hunger and need, so overpowering that he pressed his fingers to your skin as if you were his last meal. He'd wanted for so long to do all that, to dive into your body like a starving man, savoring every inch of your warm skin.

Letting out a loud, delighted moan, Kaz increased his thigh movements as he suckled on your nipple, feeling flung to hell heaven as you squealed softly and collapsed onto his thigh, smearing his black fabric with your hot cum. But Kaz couldn't care less about the fucking pants. His cock hard and rigid as a sword hilt throbbed desperately, commanding him to sink into the heat of your slippery walls.

"This is much better than I dreamin." You whimpered softly, your face still buried in his neck, your waist wiggling slyly in his thigh.

"Do you think of me when you touch yourself?" He teased you, taking his hands to your panties away from the center of your pussy and pulling them between your legs, tucking them in his pants pocket.

You nodded, your mouth dipping into his neck in broken kisses as your hands went to his pants belt, trying to get rid of any barrier between the two of you as quickly as possible.

"Please, please." You begged, flustered as Kaz stopped your hip movements with his hands "I need to feel you inside me."

Your plea was sated with an arrogant kiss as Kaz reached for his pants, pulling the fabric of the boxer together and letting pop out his dick throbbing, pulsing and his swollen head, brushing in your pussy with lazy strides.

"S-sir!" You cried, trying to earn more.

"Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you."

The strong, long arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your chest against his chest as Kaz guided his dick to the entrance to your pussy, with one hand. He play whit you, pressing his head into your entrance just enough to make you feel the pressure, recoiling when you swayed frantically for more. The painful pleasure sent tears to your eyes, and you sobbed loudly as you were just toy in his hands.

A few hot tears ran down your face as you whimpered, helpless in his arms to get what you wanted.

"You know, you look real pretty when you cry." Kaz pressed his mouth to yours.

In that second, he completely sank his dick into you, swallowing your loud scream as the thickness of it widened you and hit the bottom of the well. The grip of his arm around you tightened, and Kaz lifted you and brought you let down badly, drown his dick even more deeply inside your hot, wet, desperate walls.

"S-sir!" You moaned loudly, his mouth leaving yours, but not pulling away enough and letting you feel his hard breath hit your lips.

You followed his thrusts, bouncing your waist up and down hard and letting his dick beat frantically inside you, robbing you of your breath and your ability to think. Your moans mingled with his, the pornographic sounds of their bodies crashing together were loud and you thanked God the car windows were black and the street was deserted.

"So fucking good slut!" Kaz growled against your lips, one hand leaving your body to snake down to your throat, maintaining a firm, dominant grip.

You moaned his name and his title between loud moans and broken sobs. Yours hands closed around the shirt off his shoulders and the waist shimmied between the thrusts, making sure his dick was completely inside you.

“You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat!” Kaz tightened his grip on yoir neck, watching you tilt your head back and expose your entire body to the delight of his eyes.

He growled louder, spurred on by that sinful sight, and increased the rhythm that pounded inside you, filling every inch of you and sinking down as anatomically as possible. Kaz felt possessed by a wild beast, insatiable and euphoric, and each thrust he gave you was more force he inflicted on you, marking you as his.

Kaz pulled your neck to him, pressing your mouth to his as he growled against your lips: “Mine.”

You nodded frantically, the apex bursting in a burst of pleasure as his dick came out and sank in hard, desperate, urgent strokes.

“Yours”

You promised, kissing him urgently and swallowing a low cry as his dick shuddered inside you, flooding you with the hot liquid until your walls overflowed, giving you a feeling of being incredibly full. You whimpered into his mouth, exchanging a sloppy kiss as Kaz gave you a few more thrusts, making sure his cum would fill your every inch, not letting you dare waste a drop.

“Mine” he repeated through the kiss.

so, the weather??? HAHAHA, anyway friends, i hope you enjoyed. Don’t forget consult the rules if you want to request for some Kaz smut. Love u. O

[qitwrites]

breaking ground

Fandom: boku no hero academia 

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou / Bakugou Katsuki 

(AO3) 

The thing about your best friend/roommate/long-time crush/probably the love of your life being in a coma is that it sucks. Like, a lot.

‘Kats, if you don’t wake up, I will hide a dirty sock somewhere in your room. Somewhere you’ll never find it. And you’ll just have to live with that.’

The machines beep in the back, like a ghastly metronome.

‘I will move your desk 3 inches to the left.’

The soft rise and fall of the blonde’s chest is uniform, lungs contracting and expanding and contracting over and over.

‘I will literally stop watering the orchid Kats, I swear to god.’

Bakugou’s hands are by his side, nails longer than he’d ever keep. Kirishima makes a mental note to trim and file them later.

‘Ok, that’s going too far. I’d never kill Lucy, at least not on purpose.’

Bakugou continues to breathe with the help of a machine too complicated for Kirishima to understand, and the redhead just wants his best friend back. Because it’s been 16 days of Bakugou being fed and kept alive by a machine, it’s been 16 days since he heard his voice, saw his feral smile, looked into his bright, bright, bright eyes. And Kirishima is so ready for this nightmare to be over.

‘Come on Kats,’ Kirishima mumbles, laying his head down on the hospital bed and gently lacing his fingers with Bakugou’s, ‘you gotta wake up man. Our kitchen misses you. Our plants miss you. The neighbour’s cat misses you. Your mom misses you. I- fuck, I miss you.’

The machines continue to beep, his chest rises and falls uniformly, and Kirishima really just wants his best friend back.

    The Bakusquad (the official immortalized name of the gang) lets Kirishima stay in the hospital in 3 days bursts, following which they bodily throw him out. For fresh air and some sunlight, they say, like he’s a dying plant.

‘You need to shower in your own home,’ Kaminari grumbles, stuffing his dirty clothes in a bag.

Sero pulls a beanie over his head. ‘And also water the plants in the balcony.’

Ashido stuffs his wallet into his pant pocket and slips his phone into his hand. ‘Also, don’t forget to dust the bookshelves! And leave some fresh water for Queens.’ She pulls him down for a soft kiss on the cheek.

Jirou pulls the phone from his hand, fiddles with it for a moment before slipping it back into his palm. She places a pair of wireless Beats headphones over his beanie, and he hears the first notes of a piano piece, calm and really lovely.

‘Playlist is on there,’ Jirou says, pointing at his hand.

And so Kirishima goes home, the home he shares with Bakugou, and he waters their plants, and dusts the bookshelves, and does some laundry and cooks easy fried rice the blonde had drilled into his brain.

He doesn’t look at Bakugou’s room door, doesn’t venture inside, doesn’t touch his space. He sticks to the common areas and his own room, and he keeps it clean and tidy, the way Bakugou likes it.

He’ll get to the blonde’s room eventually, just not yet.

    Red Riot and Ground Zero are a hero pair. What this means is that they work individually when they want, and they pair up for bigger, more difficult missions.

And what a pair they make.

Riot is a wall, a shield, an unbreakable defence, always the last man standing. And Ground Zero is an explosion, a burst of light, an offence so quick and forceful the villains never stand a chance. They’re one of the best pairs out there, and they’ve done some amazing work.

It's almost stupidly ironic that Bakugou gets hurt during one of their paired missions.

The case involved several strong villains that attacked schools, and between rescue and evacuation and dealing with villains, Red Riot and Ground Zero had their hands full. Riot was mostly with the civilians and Ground Zero was keeping the damage to a minimum, but before Kirishima could go to Bakugou’s side and assist him, the damage had been done.

Because the last villain Bakugou had to deal with had decided to implode, killing himself and taking Bakugou out with him.

The damage had been immense.

Several concussions and broken ribs, bruises and internal bleeding that could only be controlled with a mix of surgeries and healing quirks. And finally, a waiting game. Bakugou had to wake up, his body had to heal itself and decide when and if he was going to wake up again.

And so Kirishima waits with him, silently supporting him from the side, ever patient, brimming with love.

    25 days after the attack, Kirishima finally walks into Bakugou’s room.

The air smells faintly like sugar, like his quirk. The walls are bare but for the few polaroids Kirishima tacks on the wall above his desk. The laptop and file folders are sitting atop his table, a thin layer of dust coating them, and the only messy thing is his unmade bed.

Kirishima crawls under his sheets, breaths in his scent, and for the first time since Bakugou had decided to be an ass and slip into a coma, the redhead cries. Giant sobs that seem to come from his core, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, snot dripping out his nose.

Kirishima cries with the force of a thousand suns, and falls asleep right there, twisted in Bakugou’s sheets, in his unmade bed, in the middle of a room covered in a thin, fine layer of dust, smelling only slightly like burnt, warm sugar.

    A month after the attack, Kirishima finally cleans Bakugou’s room.

Mina had made a good point. ‘If you don’t clean his room, it’s like you’re saying he’s not coming back so there’s no point. So, clean his room Eijirou.’

He appreciates that they don’t offer to do it. It’s usually impossible to keep them out of their apartment, impossible to keep them from getting belligerently drunk and playing monopoly on the living room floor while blasting 2000’s hits and throwing pieces of pepperoni at each other. Impossible to not love them.

But right now, the apartment is off-limits, and they seem to understand this. And respect it. And they understand that he needs a push here, a nudge there, and a gentle shove here to get his ass moving, to do the things he’s scared of doing, the things that just need to be done anyway

Kirishima loves them, so so much.

And so, he cleans. He dusts everything, puts Bakugou’s sheets in the wash and hangs his comforter out to dry. He fluffs up the All Might plushie and makes the bed, vacuums the floor, and puts his folded laundry back where it belongs in the closet.

He finds the box when he’s reorganizing Bakugou’s hero gear drawer. It’s a black box, smooth to the touch, no bigger than Kirishima’s palm, with just 2 words printed on top.

Death Box.

Its existence isn’t shocking to Kirishima. After all, he has one of his own, tucked neatly under his hanging jackets, pushed to the very back.

A Death Box is a pro-hero thing. It’s no secret that the life of a hero is riddled with danger and that one bad day could be the end. Every pro knows this. And most pro-heroes have a Death Box.

The contents of the box vary from person to person. Some leave behind letters addressed to friends and family. Others leave wills and assets and final testaments. Some leave behind cryptic messages or dramatic last words.

Kirishima never wondered about Bakugou’s box, and Bakugou had never asked about his own. But today, 31 days after the attack, 31 days of no Bakugou, 31 days of waking up with an ache in his chest because Kirishima’s heart is literally breaking, he finds himself gently pulling the box out and sitting on Bakugou’s bed, turning it over in his hands.

It’s really simple- no patterns or designs or anything. It's black as midnight, the lettering orange. Kirishima gently pops the box open and inside lays a single pen-drive. Nothing else.

Kirishima stares at it for a long, long time. He almost puts the box back in the drawer with the pen drive safely nestled inside, he almost forgets what he ever saw, he almost acts like he’s fine.

But he’s not fine. He’s so far from fine he can’t even spell the word. And he misses his friend with a pain so sharp he feels it in his bones. So Kirishima picks the pen drive up and takes it to the laptop. He switches the system on, plugs the drive in and waits for the program to load up.

Surprisingly, it isn’t password protected. He skims over the contents briefly. There’s a folder named Will and Final Testaments that he ignores completely. There’s another folder named Personal Project that he also leaves alone. The third folder is titled for everyone, and Kirishima clicks on that.

The folder is filled with video files of varying lengths. Each video is named after a specific person, and Kirishima smiles when he sees one for Bakugou’s mom, his dad, each of the Bakusquad, one for All Might, and one for Midoriya. The Deku video is easily bigger than all the others, all except one.

Because the one titled Shitty Hair is close to 45 minutes long.

Kirishima inhales shakily, and for once, he hesitates. Because once he watches this, he knows Bakugou will well and truly kill him. These videos, this content, it’s meant to be consumed after he dies. Not when he’s in a coma, not when he’s alive and fighting for his life. Not when he’s doing his best to come back.

But here’s the thing- Kirishima isn’t watching this because he thinks Bakugou’s as good as gone. He doesn’t believe that one bit. No, Kirishima is watching this because he misses Bakugou so much, so much that his insides feel like they're shredding up into little bits and pieces, and Kirishima just wants to hear him bark out his ugly laugh, he wants to see his eyes dance with mirth, he wants to watch Bakugou dump too much chilli into the curry and wrap himself into a blanket burrito on their couch in the dead of winter, cursing the weather viciously. He never thought he’d miss the way someone said fuck so much in his life, yet here he is.

So Kirishima inhales shakily, breathes out in a whoosh and hits play.

    2 years ago

Bakugou had put off recording Kirishima’s message for years.

The one to his parents was simple enough. Dad, thank you for being some kinda balance in the house, and for loving me ridiculously unconditionally. Hag, ma, we’ve always had our own issues and we love so violently, but I do love you. I always have. Thank you for making me the devil spawn I am, couldn’t have been so great if it weren’t for you.

The Bakusquad (ugh, what a dumb name) had a video each. They weren’t super long, but he loved them all, more than they’d ever know when he’s alive, and he thought they deserved to know if he ever died before getting around to drunkenly confessing it or something.

Sero, your stupid fucking jokes have made some shitty days so much better.

Jirou, you’re insanely strong and you’ve had my back on more occasions than I can count.

Mina, my girl, you’re the OG. Thank you for never giving up on me, for always pushing me to be part of the gang, for becoming my friend.

Kaminari, you’re always gonna be hella fucking stupid, but you’re my stupid friend, one of my closest buddies, and it was a pleasure knowing you.

He might actually die if they find this when he's alive, but that’s the whole point of Death Box- it's to say the things you can't when you're alive or to remind people of the things you felt after you’re gone.

Midoriya’s had been hard. Midoriya’s had been really hard.

Unpacking so many emotions, talking about the past, UA, the present; it made his blood boil but also made him immeasurably sad. After their first year, Midoriya and he had grown close. They still found it difficult to communicate like normal human beings, but they always had each other’s backs, no matter where or what. And even as pro-heroes, they worked together wonderfully, competed for #1 fiercely, pushed each other to incredible heights, and picked each other up after terrible missions.

Deku, I know so much of our past is water under the bridge for you, and that’s been great for us because it lets us have a sort of friendship. But I haven’t forgotten. I will never forgive myself and all I could do is be better.

For all the fucked up shit that we’ve been through, for how much I still get angry when I see you and how much I want to be better than you all the time, you are the brother I never had, the comrade that never left, the friend that I’ve never deserved.

Izuku, thank you. I’m sorry.

Admitting to most of these things isn’t difficultly because it’s all true. And honesty has always come easily to Bakugou. As an adult hero, he’s learned things about himself, his own feelings, his own version of love for the people around him. And he can’t bring himself to say those exact words to Izuku, but he hopes his actions (Bentos pressed into Midoriya’s hands after long patrols, sharing beers on rooftops, patching each other up after shitty missions) are message enough.

But Kirishima? How is he supposed to find the words to tell Kirishima how he feels? How much the redhead means to him? Where does he even begin?

Bakugou huffs and slaps himself on both cheeks. Kirishima is out for the day, taking Mina shopping at the mall and catching a movie with the gang, a plan Bakugou had gotten himself out of just so he could sit here, in the apartment he shares with the only person he has ever had the good fortune of being in love with, to record a final message. What a happy thought.

Bakugou thinks Fuck it, takes a seat in front of the camera, ruffles his hair, and hits record.

‘Hey Shitty Hair.’

    Hey Shitty Hair.

There are handprints on Bakugou’s face. His hair is a ruffled mess, his bed is unmade behind him, and his face looks almost nervous.

Kirishima doesn’t think about any of that.

Because seeing Bakugou on-screen with his red eyes boring into Kirishima, and hearing his voice, rough and loud and well-worn feels like the first breath of fresh air the redhead has gulped down in a month. It feels like a well-placed punch to the gut, and Kirishima almost bowls over, overwhelmed beyond comprehension.

He misses him so much.

Fuck, making this video is fucking hard, I’m not even sure where to start. Also, you better not be crying like a baby Ei, I sweat to God, I might be dead, but you still need to go out there and kick ass cause someone needs to take care of all those shitty villains.

Kirishima makes an aborted sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, because this is his best friend in the entire universe, the man he knows better than he knows himself. This is his person.

Anyway, I made a bunch of other videos for all the other losers, but yours has been the biggest pain in my ass. I guess the closer you are to someone, the harder it is right?

First off, I need to say thank you. For like, so much shit. Thank you for taking those first few steps in our friendship. For constantly pestering me and inserting yourself into my life. For training with me, including me in all kinds of stupid activities, and getting me into the gang. My time at UA would never have been so fun, so memorable, so amazing without you. You made it great, despite all the shit that went wrong.

The blonde sucks in a deep breath and his eyes pierce straight through Kirishima, peering right into his soul.

We don’t talk about Kamino because there’s never been the words. Ei, I was so scared. Fuck, I was so scared I couldn’t stop shaking. And then there you were, flying above me, hand outstretched and yelling at the top of your goddamn lungs ‘Come!’ And that’s it. I knew I’d be ok. I knew I’d be just fine.

And yeah, I mean, the pros were there and maybe we could’ve figured something else out and maybe things would’ve worked out a different way. But you guys coming for me, YOU reaching out to me? It was the first time I felt like I had friends. I had comrades. I had people. Of course, my emotionally stunted ass refused to accept these feelings, but they took root then. And continued to grow.

Bakugou sighs deeply and sits back in his chair. He looks at the ceiling and continues.

I’m not sure I know what love is. As a feeling, I don’t know how to categorize when I’m feeling love and when I’m not. At least, I didn’t for the longest time.

Bakugou looks back at the camera, and Kirishima’s vision is starting to blur dangerously.

I know I love my parents, but it feels different than the love I feel for the idiot brigade. It’s different from what I feel for Izuku. And it sure as hell feels different from the love I feel for you.

Bakugou sighs again, and his face breaks into the softest smile Kirishima has ever seen and everything hurts.

A few years ago, I think weeks after we’d moved into this place, we were making breakfast and you looked me dead in the eye and said ‘I think the morning glories are trying to kill me.’ And I laughed out loud and you looked so proud of yourself and I thought, ‘Shit, Ei is such an idiot.’ That’s when it hit me.

Bakugou’s smile grows fonder.

I don’t call people by their names even in my head Ei. You were Shitty Hair for most of our first year at UA. Then you became Kirishima, and then somehow it became Kiri, and then Eijirou and then Ei. Nobody, and I mean absolutely nobody else, is the same. Not a single fucking person.

The first time I called you Ei in my head, that’s when I realized I was in love with you.

Kirishima hits pause immediately. He closes the window, safely ejects the pen drive, puts it back in the box and returns it to its spot. He shuts the laptop down, walks out of Bakugou’s room and sits on the couch in the living area, the same one they’ve passed out on countless times, the same one they bought together with their first paychecks, the same one that’s stained with coffee rings and spaghetti sauce and pepperoni grease.

He picks his phone up on autopilot and dials a familiar number.

‘Kiri?’ Mina sounds like a hot cup of coffee on a chilly Tuesday morning.

‘Please come home.’

He hears some rustling and yelling in the background before Mina says, ‘Stay right there, we’ll be over as soon as Midoriya gets here ok?’

Kirishima hums out an affirmative and hangs up. It’s time they come home.

    67 days after the fight, Kirishima gets a call.

‘He’s awake.’

Red Riot is back on the streets, patrolling during the day, staying with Bakugou in the hospital at night and barely keeping his shit together. But it’s ok, it kinda works. Works well enough that he can do his job and do it well, and his friends are always there, picking up his pieces, keeping him sane.

Before Kirishima can say anything, Midoriya continues, ‘Chargebolt is almost at your location to relieve you, so go.’

He takes off running. His lungs burn and he can barely see where he’s going but he’s made this walk so many times he can do it in his sleep. He runs as fast as his legs can take him and makes them go faster.

Kirishima bursts into the hospital and takes the stairs 3 at a time. He finally gets to Bakugou’s floor and sprints to the door, and he can barely pull in enough air. He’s lightheaded, his heart is palpitating, and his vision is blurry but he slides the door open anyway.

Carmine eyes snap over to his and time just comes to a complete standstill. There are no doctors, no nurses. There’s no Bakugou Mitsuki, no beeping machines that breathe for him, no beeping machines that feed him, no white sterile walls and ugly hospital gowns. There is only Bakugou Katsuki, his bright, bright, bright eyes and a hand outstretched at Kirishima.

‘Ei-‘

And that’s it. One moment he’s standing in the doorway, the next he has Bakugou gathered in his arms, and he’s so warm and alive and it’s absolutely everything.

‘Kats,’ Kirishima mumbles. ‘Kats.’

‘Ei, if you start crying, I will smack the shit out of you.’

Kirishima’s laugh is watery. He pulls away and cups Bakugou’s face, smooshing his cheeks a little.

‘Kats, for once, shut the fuck up and let me feel my feelings. Do you have any idea how much the plants missed you?’

Bakugou’s mouth twists in a grimace but his eyes soften till they’re just liquid ruby and Kirishima falls a little more in love.

‘Just the plants?’

‘Shut the fuck up Kats.’ And Kirishima hugs him again, presses Bakugou’s face firmly into the crook of his neck. The blonde’s arms tighten around his middle, and the world feels whole again.

    A week after they return from the hospital, Bakugou finds a white envelope in the morning glories, the very same ones that Kirishima had insisted were trying to kill him.

To Kats it says in Kirishima’s untidy scrawl. Bakugou puts the watering can down and picks the letter up gently, opening it with trembling hands.

Dear Katsuki,

My Death Box has a bunch of letters in them. I wrote one for mom, one for mama, one for all our friends, I wrote letters to all of them.

Yours was the hardest because even after writing and rewriting it 5 times, it was always the same- all I can write to you is a love letter.

Bakugou doesn’t read the rest, just snaps his head up and looks around wildly.

‘EIJIROU, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YO-‘

‘I love you Kats.’ Kirishima is right there, standing by the balcony door, eyes wide and hopeful. He’s wearing sweatpants low on his hips, and in each hand, he holds a mug of steaming hot chocolate spiked with chilli. Mexican cocoa. Bakugou’s favourite.

He puts the mugs down on the balcony ledge. ‘I’ve loved you for so long, I don’t remember what it’s like to not be in love with you.’

‘Eijirou-‘

‘I love you.’ Kirishima steps forward and frames Bakugou’s face with his warm, calloused hands, and smiles big. ‘What about you?’

Bakugou scoffs. ‘What do you think, Shitty Hair?’

‘Gotta hear you say it, Kats.’  

‘You’re a pain in my ass.’

‘I know.’

‘You’re so annoying.’

‘I agree.’

‘Your hair still sucks.’

‘Your nose twitches when you lie.’

‘And I love you so much anyway.’ Bakugou finishes and places his hands over Kirishima’s and squeezes.

‘Don’t start crying Ei.’

‘Let me feel my feelings, Kats.’

‘I’m not kissing you if you’re covered in fucking snot.’

Kirishima laughs at that, pulling Bakugou close. ‘Your nose still twitches when you lie.’

Bakugou doesn’t deign that with a response, just smirks his trademark smirk, looks at Kirishima with those bright, bright, bright eyes and kisses him stupid.

‘Again,’ Kirishima mumbles.

Bakugou does just that.

[luffles424]

Theory into Practice

☼ Pairing: Yoonji x reader x Jungkook

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, pwp (with some plot), teeny bit of angst, f2l, college au (technically more so grad school au)

☼ Count: 10.2K

☼ Warnings: 18+, drug use (pot), mentions of alcohol use, threesome, dom!Yoonji, dom!reader, sub!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, teasing, dirty talk, one thigh smack, thigh riding, fingering, hair pulling, breast play, oral (f & m receiving), face sitting, unprotected (pls stay safe), aftercare

☼ Summary: A normal night in with Yoonji leads to some interesting revelations with her and surprisingly, Jungkook.

☼ a/n: lmao it’s been a while. Hope you enjoy the Yoonji thirst, my girl doesn’t have enough fics out there. Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~

———

“Who of our friends do you think is the subbiest?”

You blink. It’s really a testament to how much you and Yoonji have smoked tonight that your immediate reaction isn’t to splutter at her question. Instead, you just blink slowly, the question slowly making its way through your synapses before you can articulate a response. You take another hit, using it to buy yourself a little more time. Holding the joint back out to her, you let the smoke slowly seep from your lips. 

“Who says I’ve thought about it?” 

You know exactly who you want to be subbiest. But you’re not going to reveal that. Maybe not yet. You might be high, but you still have enough of your wits to keep from spilling things you want to keep hidden. You’ve had good practice at that, smoking often with her and never divulging your crush, even when the topic of partners has come up. Which does come up fairly often as you both attempt to navigate dating while in grad school.

There’s a snort from the other end of the couch and Yoonji’s head lulls against the back of it so she can fix you with hazy, unimpressed eyes, though there’s a smirk just barely tugging at her lips. “I didn’t. But we’re talking about it now.”

Pursing your lips, you think of how to respond. In truth, you’ve thought about it a little, but not particularly in relation to your whole group of friends. Maybe just a person or two who you were particularly interested in that are in said friend group. Most notably, the women sitting on the other end of the couch from you currently. 

Yoonji laughs, foot kicking out to nudge you, and you grin at the flood of happiness that always accompanies hearing her laugh. “Damn, it’s not that deep. Why are you thinking so hard?”

Catching her foot, you dig your thumb into the sole of her foot, causing you both to dissolve into giggles. “We have a lot of friends,” you shoot back. An excuse and you both know it. 

You and Yoonji have been friends for too long for you to really be able to avoid answering a direct query. It’s only been luck that has kept your crush hidden from her. You’ve been friends since you met in 2nd year of undergrad, paired randomly as roommates and then continuing to remain roommates until even now when you live off campus in an apartment together. And many of your friends have come together and you both now share a common friend group.

Once Yoonji wrestles her foot free of your tickling grasp, she shifts in her seat, face far more serious than the topic at hand should really call for. “Fine, fine. I’ll accept your excuse,” she gives you a look that’s hard to interpret, though you mostly just don’t want to think too hard about the calculating look she’s giving you. It leaves you feeling exposed, like she can read your thoughts and knows all of your deepest secrets. Which is partially true, you and Yoonji share everything, save your feelings for her. “Which way do you think Jimin goes?”

She’s really going to make you do this? Well, you might as well give some actual thought to this. “With his praise kink? Definitely more sub leaning?”

Yoonji raises an eyebrow. “Leaning?”

“Well yeah. He’s definitely a switch. You’ve seen how he is when he’s focused. But he also likes helping others. Plus,” you pause, mostly just to be dramatic as you smirk knowingly, Yoonji leaning closer as she waits for what you’re going to say next, “Siyeon said he’s as good a dom as he is a sub.”

Scoffing, Yoonji reaches over to give you a little shove. “That’s cheating!”

You giggle, catching her hand before she pushes again. “It’s not!”

“It is! That’s insider information! This is supposed to be our opinion.”

Waving her off, you settle back onto the couch. “I gave my opinion. I would’ve had that before Siyeon told me. All she did was confirm.” You pause thoughtfully for a moment. You don’t want this to be all you, so you pose the next friend to her instead. “What about Seokjin?”

Yoonji drums her fingers on her bare thigh and you have to fight the urge to get lost in staring at the vast expanse of smooth, exposed skin she’s subjecting you to tonight while you’re impaired like this. You want to know if they’re as soft as they look. You know her hands aren’t, not anymore since she started learning guitar, finger’s growing rough and calloused. The first time she had held your hand after had startled you, now you love feeling the slight roughness brush against your skin. Dragging your gaze from her fingers to her face, you watch as she starts to speak, trying to remain focused on her words and not the way her pretty pink lips form them. 

“As much as I’d love to say sub because he would be just absolutely gorgeous all tied up and begging. I think he’s a bit more dom-ish.”

Mulling it over for a moment, you nod. He likes caring for all your friends, you can certainly see that transferring over into the bedroom. You add, “Yeah… But like, a soft one, ya know? He’d be so gentle and caring about it. I bet his aftercare game is amazing.”

Shifting, Yoonji stretches her legs out and echoes your thoughts. “Definitely. You’ve seen the way he cares for all of us, but definitely the younger guys. He’d be so amazing at that. What about Taehyung?”

“Hm, a dom. Maybe a little less gentle than Seokjin, but still a soft-ish dom. Namjoon?”

“Dom leaning switch. Sometimes he just really needs to get out of his head and let go of control. Hoseok?”

“Straight up switch. I think he probably doms more often but he’s all too happy to go with whatever his partner is in the mood for. Jungkook?”

Yoonji’s face lights up. “Oh,” she coos. “The sweetest sub ever.”

You stare at the way her eyes seem to glaze over with her words and something like jealousy swirls with heat in your belly. You can’t tell if the spike of jealousy is about the way she sighed her answer so sweetly, like she’s thought a lot about this. Or if it’s because you have the same thoughts and some part of you feels possessive over Jungkook. “Why’s that?”

She shoots you a coy smile that leaves you feeling slightly uneasy. “He’s just such a sweet boy and always so eager to please.”

You can’t deny that you’ve also thought that, dreamed that were true. You’ve heard rumors of how Jungkook is in bed. Domineering, cocky, rough. But it doesn’t stop you from imagining him beneath you, whimpering and begging. Yoonji nudges you and you blink at her, realizing that you must’ve zoned out for a moment. She purses her lips, barely hiding her knowing smile. 

“One more,” she declares. 

Frowning, you think through your shared friends, but can’t imagine who she might be referring to. “Who?”

Her answering smirk has your heart stuttering in your chest, equal parts dreading what’s about to come out of her mouth and anticipating. “Me.”

You swallow. She’s really going to make you answer that to her face? While you’re both high? You chew your lip, looking her over slowly. You know exactly how she leans, the benefit and downside to living together for so long. The words stick in your throat though, not quite able to bring yourself to voice your knowledge. To give yourself away like that, to show just how much you’ve paid attention. Yoonji says nothing though, looking at you expectantly as she waits for your answer. 

Taking a deep breath, you rationalize that this is just a game. You’re just giving opinions. It doesn’t have to be incriminating to anything deeper. You just won’t give reasons, just an answer which way she leans. “Dom.”

She grins, looking pleased with your answer. “You too.”

“What?” you blink at her, confused by what she means. 

“I think you’re a dom too.”

Your breath catches. You hadn’t thought about the fact that if you knew her preferences then she likely knew yours well. You’ve both talked about your sex lives with each other, but you’ve never delved deeply into what happens when you’re in your room with others. Staring at each other, your mind races. How much has she heard? How much does she truly know? Her gaze drops to your lips for a moment.

But before the conversation can go any further, there’s a knock at the door. The tension that built between the two of you suddenly breaks as Yoonji crows happily, jumping from her seat to go retrieve the food you’d ordered. Burying your face in your hands, you take a few deep breaths, trying to get your thoughts under control. You really can’t be sitting here, high and horny and thinking about Yoonji and Jungkook. Especially not while one of those people is sitting here with you.

By the time she’s back with food, you’ve got your tangled thoughts mostly controlled and the previous conversation isn’t brought up again. Yoonji complains about something Namjoon did while they were studying earlier in the day and then you’re both complaining about school and theses and classes and thoughts on doms and subs is forgotten about entirely. And you’re all too happy to just forget it happened at all. 

At least for the most part. You can’t help it if in the late hours of night, when exhaustion reigns and sleep eludes you, if you let your thoughts slip to less pure things as you hand slips into your panties. If when you’re alone, you think of you and Yoonji knelt over Jungkook as his big, shiny eyes shine brighter with overwhelmed tears and begs his noonas to let him cum. You don’t let it leave those times though, left in the dark and forgotten in the daylight hours. You ignore the thoughts when you go to lunch with Jungkook, have dinner with all your friends, go grocery shopping with Yoonji, let yourself act as if that conversation never happened.

You assume Yoonji has forgotten it too. Or at least chosen to leave that conversation with that night. 

Until you come home from buying snacks one night for the weekly smoking session to find Jungkook there too. Which in and of itself isn’t too strange. While you and Yoonji are the primary partakers of this night, all of your friends rotate in and out when the mood strikes. Most of the others usually go out drinking. Or study. And everyone rotates between the three activities with whatever strikes their mood (or is required by their grades). 

But Jungkook had said earlier in the day that he was going out with Tae and Jimin. He’s not even dressed for it, like he was just stopping by for a moment and then going to meet up with the others. Instead dressed comfortably in loose gray sweats and a matching sweatshirt, his blond hair still slightly damp from a shower under the hood he still has pulled up. 

You give him a smile as you set the snacks on the coffee table and move to sit on the couch. “I thought you were going out to drink?”

Jungkook shuffles from foot to foot nervously, glancing from you to Yoonji, who’s sat on the other side of the couch. “I uh… changed my mind?”

You frown, unsure of his odd behavior. He’s acting as if he’s never been to your apartment before, despite the fact that besides the two of you, he’s here the most. But Yoonji simply beckons him to sit, which he does so after a moment of hesitation, nervously tugging his hood off his head. Once he sits, you expect Yoonji to pull out a blunt and get the night started, but the silence stretches and she makes no moves to do so. You reach out to nudge her, head tilted questioningly. 

She gives you a quick glance before looking at Jungkook. “I have a proposition. For you both.” Brows furrowing, you’re about to question her when she continues. “Your noonas have a little theory they’d like to test.”

Your heart stops. There’s only one possible thing she could be talking about that would involve both a proposition and a theory that you both had. Is she just planning to ask him? But that wouldn’t involve a proposition…

Oh. 

She’s planning to ask him to let you both dom him. Stomach knotting uncomfortably, you worry that this could ruin the friendship the three of you share. That it could ruin the entire friendship dynamic of the whole group. You could lose a roommate, friends. But even with the bad scenarios running through your mind, you can’t deny the bolt of heat that sears straight to your core at even the barest hint of possibility of getting the pretty boy before you underneath you instead. 

Jungkook swallows, gaze darting from Yoonji to you and back. You wonder what Yoonji said to him to get him to come tonight. “What… What’s the theory?”

She gives a soft smile, but there's a predatory edge to it. You’ve seen it on her when you’ve gone to bars and clubs, wielded against unsuspecting people that she wants to spend the night with. You’ve seen the effects of that look on people and Jungkook is no different, already looking like he’s hooked on her every word, even if there’s still a touch of nerves in the tense line of his shoulders. She gestures for Jungkook to move from the chair to sit between you both on the couch. He hesitates before shuffling the short distance to sit where directed. You can’t help but note that he’s good at following instructions. It makes something hot twist in your belly. 

Yoonji shifts, kneeling on the cushion so she can press closer to Jungkook, close enough to whisper in his ear, though her tone is loud enough for you to hear too. “Your noonas have a theory that you are just the sweetest little sub ever.”

Jungkook tenses up at the words, and though it’s hard to tell if it’s from discomfort or just shock at Yoonji’s bold statement, you slide closer to be a reassuring hand to counterpoint Yoonji’s boldness.  

“If anything makes you uncomfortable, Jungkook, just tell us. We don’t want to cause you any discomfort, okay?” you murmur soothingly, hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. Yoonji peaks around to give you a grateful smile, although you’re unsure if it’s because you are joining her in her proposition or if it’s because you know enough to ensure that Jungkook’s comfort is the most important thing here.

Thinking for a moment, Jungkook gives a small nod and Yoonji takes that as her sign to continue. “Would you let your noonas find out if they’re right?”

“B-both of you?” he swallows, gaze darting between the two of you.

Leaning closer, you let your lips brush his ear, relishing the shiver you feel run through him. “Your noonas have seen the way you look at them when we dance together on nights out.” 

He stiffens beneath you and you pull back just enough to see the flush starting to color his cheeks. In truth, you know he’s not the only one that does. Jimin and Taehyung fairly regularly comment on how you both steal the show. And you and Yoonji aren’t blind, you know the way you both captivate an audience when you’re together, dressed up and putting on a show just for the thrill. But you’ve definitely caught Jungkook staring the most. Eyes hooded and lips parted like you and Yoonji are there solely for his entertainment. The way you’ve seen him have to restrain himself from approaching the both of you. It’s even more thrilling than the eyes of strangers on you. 

Yoonji coos. “Do you like watching your noonas together, baby?”

She doesn’t allow him a chance to answer though because as soon as the question has been asked, she’s nudging him back so he’s more reclined, leaving the two of you staring at each other over his chest. A moment passes, where you just stare at each other, as Jungkook looks between you both. 

There’s a wry twist to her lips and then she’s reaching out to pull you in for a kiss. The sudden press of her soft lips to yours has your brain short circuiting. All thought and reason leaving you, focus narrowed entirely down to the pressure of her mouth on yours. She tastes like strawberry and the sudden, lightest brush of her tongue across your lip has your brain kick starting again just as she starts to pull away. That simply won’t do. Hand tangling in her hair, you keep her close, keep the kiss going as you deepen it and you relish the slick slide of her tongue against yours.

You’ve imagined kissing her so much, but it’s nothing compared to reality. Yoonji is demanding, just as demanding as you are, and there are moments where the kiss turns a little rougher as one of you tries for the upper hand. It’s addicting, the feel of her, the rush, that you get lost in the kiss. So much so, that you entirely forget about Jungkook beneath you until he lets out a soft whimper. Pulling away from Yoonji, you both glance down at him and you nearly coo at the sight. He looks much like he does on nights that you’ve caught him watching you dance. But up close like this, you can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the way his tongue darts out occasionally to lick at his pink, bitten lips, how blown his eyes are already and he hasn’t even been touched yet. 

Disentangling yourself from Yoonji, you run an affectionate hand through Jungkook’s hair. “Do you want this, baby?” When he starts to nod again, you tighten your hand in his hair, halting his movement. “We need your words, Jungkook.”

His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He clears his throat, eyes darting down in embarrassment before trying again. “Yes, noona. Want this… Want you both…”

Pleased, you let your hand drift down, cupping his cheek and thumbing gently along his cheekbone. “Yeah? Have you thought about this a lot? Have you thought about your noonas often?”

Swallowing, his gaze darts between the two of you nervously. And oh, you had just been teasing. But the nervous flit of his gaze, the way he won’t focus on either of you for longer than a moment. He has thought about the two of you. You wonder what he’s thought about, for how long. Has he touched himself while thinking about one of you? Both of you? Yoonji seems to pick up on the implication of his nonanswer too, because her lips are curling into a teasing smirk.

“Have you, baby? What a naughty boy. Thinking about your noonas like that.” Jungkook squirms, mouth open like he’s about to protest the statement, but Yoonji continues speaking. “Noona has too. Thought about how pretty you’d look and how good you’d be.”

Jungkook falters, blinking big eyes up at Yoonji with wonder. Like he never imagined that either of you would think of him the way he thinks of you. A breath shudders out of him as his eyes squeeze closed. You make the decision to move this from the couch if you’re going to go through with it.

Shifting, you push yourself to your feet, glancing at Yoonji to see that she follows your actions with a questioning furrow to her brows. Jungkook blinks his eyes open at the movement, blinking up at you both. You hold your hand out and after a moment, he takes it. Pulling him to his feet, Yoonji grabs his other hand and takes charge in leading Jungkook down the hall to her bedroom. 

The air in Yoonji’s room feels thick with heat. She flips a light on, letting soft, purple light fill the room and leaving it cast in subdued shades. You both release Jungkook’s hands, moving in near perfect synchronicity despite the fact that you’ve never done this before. There’s something unspoken that moves you both together. Standing side by side, you both face Jungkook, gazes slowly trailing over the younger man. He shuffles on his feet under the scrutiny, hands clasping in front of him like he’s a child about to be scolded. 

Yoonji’s head tilts, finger coming up to tap her chin in thought. “Something seems wrong here, doesn’t it?”

Humming, you nod in agreeance. “Yes, yes it does. Jungkook,” the boy starts at the call of his name, head jerking up to stare at you, like a deer caught in the headlights. 

Yoonji snaps her fingers. “You’re right. Jungkook, baby, strip for your noonas.”

“N-now?” His fingers twitch where they’re clasped before him. 

It’s cute how shy he has become. You’ve seen him shamelessly strip his shirt off at parties to do body shots, confidently pick up women at bars, boldly barge into rooms and capture everyone’s attention. You’ve only seen him this shy once, and that was when you all had first met him, before he had come out of his shell and grown close to you all. 

When he makes no move to start undressing, you speak up. “Jungkook,” you wait until he’s looking at you. “Do you know the stoplight system?” He thinks for a moment before nodding, face clouded with confusion. “Color?”

Gaze darting from you to Yoonji and back again, his tongue peaks for a moment. “Green.”

Yoonji grins proudly at the answer. “Aw, are you just shy then, baby? Nervous about being naked in front of your noonas for the first time?”

Ducking his head, Jungkook gives you both a quick nod that you just want to coo over, however inappropriate that reaction may be right now be damned. Instead, you shoot for comforting. “How about we start slow then? Just your shirt. You can do that, can’t you, baby? We’ve seen you shirtless plenty of times before.”

Jungkook fidgets for another moment before his fingers grip the edge of his baggy sweater. Eyes squeezing shut, there’s only only a second more of hesitation before the sweater is being pulled up and off. He clings to it, the fabric hanging in his hands in front of his chest, but doing very little to hide anything. He peaks an eye open and sees the way Yoonji quirks an eyebrow at him and the sweater drops from his hands to the floor. 

You’ve seen Jungkook shirtless plenty of times. Your entire friend group has. There was a period of a few months back towards the beginning of your friendship after he had gotten comfortable with you all that you would’ve sworn that he was allergic to shirts with how often you saw him shirtless. You know how toned he is, have been subjected to his ridiculous workouts on occasion, how diligently he works out simply for the fun of it. Muscles that shift under golden skin that you’ve seen at parties and on beach trips, that you’ve allowed yourself to glance out, appreciate and take in, but never to stare for too long and get caught. 

Now though, you drink your fill of the sight before you. Jungkook is tall, and when he’s shirtless he exudes a cockiness born from the hungry looks of others; his posture always making him seem taller, take up more space. But now, now his shoulders are hunched, like he’s trying to make himself smaller, seem less big even though his muscles make that nearly impossible. 

He glances up at you both through the curtain of blonde bangs and you can see the way the flush from his cheeks starts to spread down his neck and chest. It makes you itch to mark the pretty skin up, stake a claim on the sweet, shy boy before you. 

There’s a pleased hum from beside you. “Such a good boy, Jungkookie. You’re so good for your noonas, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly, eyes positively shining at the praise. Well, you both certainly pegged that one right. Oh, now there’s an idea. That might have to wait though. You don’t want to completely overwhelm him right at the start. 

“Now the pants, baby,” you grin, watching the way he swallows at the command.

Hands trembling slightly as he reaches for the waistband of his sweats, his nerves seem to grow now that he’s about to be fully exposed before you both. He takes a deep breath and then shoves his sweats and underwear down his legs. Your breath catches in your throat and you know Yoonji must be having a similar reaction given the sharp inhale you hear from her. 

Jungkook is absolutely stunning naked. You’ve known that his thighs were thick and just as toned as the rest of him, catching glimpses of the thick, corded muscles whenever he ditched sweats and his baggier clothing for jeans that looked like they’d been painted onto him. His hands immediately come together again in an attempt to cover his cock, already hard and leaking. But his hands do little to cover his long, thick cock, but it’s endearingly adorable that he tries. 

“So pretty,” you murmur, eyes tracing over every inch of skin. You don’t know what you want to do first to him, so many ideas flash through your mind as you stare at him.  

“So good, too. Can you lay down on the bed for us now, baby?”

Shyness seemingly forgotten for a moment, Jungkook nearly launches himself onto the bed, landing with a little bounce before he’s shuffling around so he’s stretched out in the middle of Yoonji’s bed. His eagerness is a good sign, showing that even if he’s nervous, that he very much wants to be here. The dark bedspread makes his skin seem to glow more and he looks absolutely gorgeous spread out for you. 

Yoonji moves closer to the bed and you move to follow suit and stand beside her at the foot, both of you just taking a moment to look at Jungkook. His cock twitches where it rests against his belly and heat pools in your belly at the knowledge that it’s yours to touch. At least for tonight. 

She turns to you then, hands landing on your hips to pull you closer. Chewing her lip for a moment, there’s an emotion that briefly flits across her face but before you can pin down what exactly it is she’s leaning in to press her lips to yours once again. Not letting yourself dwell on her expression, at least not now when there’s a very eager boy spread out for you both and Yoonji’s tongue slipping into your mouth. You can overthink later. Right now, you should just let yourself fall into the feel of her.

Her fingers dig into your hips and you let her get away with it only because you take the opportunity to slip your hands beneath her shirt, gripping her waist just as tightly for a moment before you’re tugging her shirt up and off. Kiss momentarily broken, you take the brief pause to look her over. Her bra is black and lacy, pushing her breasts up in a way that makes you want to get your mouth on them . You also know for a fact that it’s her ‘getting laid’ bra. Meaning she must have been pretty confident that the two of you would agree to this. You’re a little mad that she didn’t give you any sort of heads up to let you wear something better than just a comfy, colorful bra you use for daily wear. At least it’s cute. 

Leaning in, you nip harshly at her bottom lip in retaliation and you know by her giggle that she knows exactly what it was for. What a cruel tease, you’re definitely going to get her back in the future. You don’t know how just yet, but you will. You sooth the bite with your tongue, but you don’t get a chance for another proper kiss because Yoonji takes the opportunity to tug your shirt off as well. She pulls away after dropping your shirt to the floor, hungrily eyeing you up as her tongue wets her lips. You feel a heady rush at being able to pull such a look from the typically collected Yoonji. 

A moan pulls your attention back to the bed, where Jungkook has taken it upon himself to start lazily stroking himself, muscles shifting as his hips flex up into his grip. Exchanging glances, you and Yoonji quickly rid yourselves of your bottoms before climbing onto the bed on either side of Jungkook. This behavior simply won’t do. 

Sitting on your knees beside his thigh, you're quick to let your hand smack against the skin there. The sound echoes in the quiet room and Jungkook jerks, though you don’t know if it’s more from the sudden sound or the heat that blooms across his thigh even if the smack you gave him was fairly mild in terms of punishment. But it has the desired effect, his hand halting on his cock, though he doesn’t remove his hand from himself. His expression morphs into a mix of betrayal and confusion.

“Oh, sweet boy,” Yoonji coos, hand wrapping around his wrist. “Have you ever done this before?”

Swallowing, he looks nervous again, gaze darting around the room, but never landing on either of you before he minutely shakes his head. Yoonji gently pulls his hand from his cock, letting it slap wetly against his belly. 

“Aw, you poor thing. Have you always had to be the one in charge, huh? Do those girls see your big, pretty muscles and tattoos and just assume that you’re going to be domineering too? No one’s ever taken care of you like you deserve?” Yoonji murmurs, eyes burning as she speaks. 

Jungkook’s breath hitches as he blinks up at Yoonji. He shakes his head slightly and you can see how deeply he wants this. Wants to try, to let go and have someone else take control for once. Letting your fingers trail up his thigh, you trace a single fingertip up his cock with a featherlight touch, drawing a delightful gasp from him. He’s so sensitive to touch, it’s going to make this so much more fun. 

“Lesson number one, baby. No touching without permission. That includes your pretty little cock. Bad boys get punished.”

“And punishment can get much worse than a little slap on the thigh, sweetheart.”

His eyes widen. “I-I’m sorry! I d-didn’t know!”

Shushing him, you rub soothingly at the red mark you left on his thigh. It’s light and fairly small, a testament to how tame the smack was, but it makes you want to leave more, make them darker. Marks that remain for days, that remind Jungkook of your hands on him. “It’s okay, baby. You’re still learning. You won’t be punished.” You smirk teasingly. “This time at least.”

Licking his lips, he looks between you both. You can tell he’s thinking about something, but you can’t tell if the thought of punishment might actually be enticing to him or if he’s trying to figure out the rules without being told. Always the overachiever. 

Yoonji releases his hand, letting it fall to rest against the bed once more. “We’ll go easy on you, baby, don’t worry. You’ll be a good boy for us, won’t you?” Jungkook nods quickly, hands clenching at the bedspread. “What do you want, baby?”

“Want…” he licks his lips, seems to think slowly over his wants in this moment. “Wanna see you kiss again.”

You giggle. “Aw, sweet thing,” you glance over at Yoonji, “doesn’t even want a kiss for himself.”

Yoonji tsks, wide grin matching yours. “Someone must really enjoy watching.”

Planting a hand high on Jungkook’s thigh, Yoonji mirrors your actions as you both lean closer to meet over Jungkook once more. This kiss is slow, you take your time and enjoy the feel of her soft mouth against yours. You could easily get lost in the kiss again, it would be so easy. Jungkook’s thigh twitches beneath your hand and you give him a small squeeze, acknowledge that you haven’t forgotten about him and it draws a soft moan from him. 

The sound seems to spark something in Yoonji, as she surges closer, deepening the kiss. Her free hand comes up to rest on the side of your neck, thumb brushing along your jaw. Not wanting to be outdone, you reach out and let your fingers trace her collarbone before following her sternum down until you can palm at one of her covered breasts. That draws a soft gasp from her that you greedily swallow down. 

Her hand tightens on your neck, pulling like it’s possible to pull you closer and her other hand abandons Jungkook’s thigh to grope at your breast. You both get greedy for the feel of each other. Your hand quickly leaves Jungkook’s thigh as well, slipping behind Yoonji to undo her bra. It falls slack on her shoulders, hindered from coming off by her hands on you. Bumping her hands off for a moment, you tug the offending article free from her and toss it off the bed. Yoonji wastes no time in getting her hands back on you once you’ve removed the bra and you’re now free to palm her tits in your hands. 

Jungkook whimpers below you both, his hand bumps your thigh before it’s being jerked away. “N-noona…”

Parting with a gasp, you both look down at Jungkook, his hands fisted at his sides, knuckles nearly white. Your hands fall from each other as you give the prone man your attention. You’re impressed with his restraint, you hadn’t expected him to be so well behaved the very first time. But that’s actually pretty typical of Jungkook, excelling at anything he tries. 

His pupils are blown with lust and he swallows his nerves as he speaks. “C-can… Can I touch too?”

“You wanna touch your noonas while they kiss, baby?” Yoonji asks. He nods, eyes wide and Yoonji’s answering smirk is bordering on mean. “Why?”

“W-what?”

“Why do you want to touch your noonas while they kiss, baby? I thought you just wanted us to kiss and touch each other?”

He looks to you, seemingly lost by the question. But you simply raise an eyebrow and wait for an answer. He squirms a little, cock twitching. “Um… I… I…”

“Have you thought about touching us before?” you murmur, reaching out to cup Yoonji’s breast, thumbing at the nipple and drawing a sigh from her. “Have you thought about noona’s pretty tits and how they’d feel in your hands?”

Whining, Jungkook nods his assent eagerly, eyes fixed firmly on where your hand plays with Yoonji. Yoonji presses a quick kiss to your lips, casting a teasing look to Jungkook before she’s reaching up to unclasp your bra and tug it off of you to toss it behind her. Yoonji raises herself up onto her knees, pulling you with, and she leans you both together until your breasts press together. They’re just as soft against you as they were in your hands. If you weren’t focused on teasing Jungkook, you’d pin her down and get your mouth on them.

She glances to the side to look at Jungkook. “How do you wanna touch, baby?”

His eyes drag down your bodies slowly, gaze darting so quickly like there’s so much he wants to touch and he doesn’t know where to even begin. “Noona…” he whines. 

You chuckle. “Aw, baby. Do you need your noonas to help you?”

“Please.”

“Put your hands on our hips.”

He’s eager and quick to comply, hands coming up to rest hot and heavy against the curve of your hip. His fingers flex against you, like he wants to move his hand to touch more but they remain in place. Yoonji leans in to kiss you again and you think you could kiss her forever. After a moment, you break the kiss, trailing your lips along her jaw and down her neck. Laving your tongue over her pulse point, you relish the shiver that runs through her. You’re overcome with the urge to mark her and so you let your teeth sink into her skin before soothing it with your tongue and sucking kisses. Yoonji groans in the back of her throat and you move down her neck to suck another dark mark and draw more noises from her. 

You know logically that she’s been as affected by all this as you, but hearing the proof is intoxicating. It goes straight to your pussy and the longer you go on, the more you feel drip from you to soak your panties.

“What do you want next, baby?” Yoonji pants, hand reaching to cover the hand on your hip. His gaze drops to where your breasts are pressed together, but he doesn’t say anything. “Do you wanna touch noonas’ tits? Greedy boy,” she chuckles breathlessly, ending in a gasp when you nip at her collarbone. 

His hands twitch against you like he is fighting the urge to just do what he wants, to do what he’s always done with women. But he remains diligent and keeps his hands where he was told too. Pressing one last kiss to Yoonji’s neck, you pull away, staring at the darkening marks while a possessive heat curls in your belly. You shift then, nudging Jungkook’s thighs slightly apart and then you’re throwing a leg over to straddle his thigh, dropping down to press your clothed pussy against the corded muscle. The damp material drags deliciously against your pussy and any other time, you would ride his thigh until he was begging you to touch him or let him touch.

Gasping, Jungkook’s hand tightens enough to bruise and you grin down at him. “Can you feel how wet noona is for you, baby?”

He nods a little dazedly, looking down where you’re pressed against his thigh like he can’t believe what he’s feeling or seeing. Giving a little grind, you feel a rush of desire run through you at the breath that rushes from Jungkook’s lips. 

“Baby,” you purr, “didn’t you want to touch noona’s tits?”

“Please…”

“Go ahead, baby.”

His hand quickly abandons your hip once he’s given permission; big, warm palm cupping one of your breasts like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever touched. You have to fight down the urge to giggle at the unexpected tenderness. Yoonji moves beside you, straddling Jungkook’s other thigh and she takes the opportunity to move Jungkook’s other hand for him, placing it over one of her breasts. 

Gaze darting from one hand to the other, his hands remain frozen for a long moment before he’s tentatively squeezing. Then he quickly grows more confident, seemingly more familiar with at least this part as his fingers tease at your nipple. Leaning slightly to the side, you press a kiss to Yoonji’s shoulder until you have her attention and then you’re pressing your lips to hers once more. Letting your hand slip into her hair, you tilt her head, deepening the kiss. Her hand lands on your waist, fingers tracing a burning path down until they can grope at your ass. 

Your hips jerk, clit dragging across Jungkook’s thigh and a moment later, you feel his muscles shift as he flexes. Breaking the kiss with a gasp, you glance down at him with a smirk. Jungkook looks perfectly debauched beneath you both. The flush dusting his cheeks stretches down his chest, his bright eyes burn with want as his hands work on both you and Yoonji. His cock rests heavy against his belly, tip dark with neglect, but he seems wholly oblivious to it even as your attention zeroes in on it.

“What a good boy you’re being. Giving noona something to grind against?”

His dick twitches at that and you let a finger brush gently down the length. A loud gasp leaves his lips, hips straining upward but he can’t get very far with the combined weight of you and Yoonji pinning his legs down. You give a deliberate grind down, Jungkook’s eyes quickly zeroing in on where your clothed pussy meets his bare thigh. Hands falling still on your breast, he licks his lips before his hand is slowly sliding down to timidly tug at the waistband of your panties.

“Can… Can these come off?”

Yoonji hums. “Wanna see noona’s bare pussy, baby?”

Nodding quickly, he looks up at you both with wide eyes. “Yes, please. Wanna see.”

The hand on your ass slides around to rest just on the waistband of your panties. “You wanna see just how wet our pretty baby boy has made us?”

Breath shuddering, he nods again, eyes trained on Yoonji’s hand as it finally slips into your panties. You groan as her fingers slip between your folds, fingertips teasing across your clit before dipping lower to gather your wetness. Before she can do much more than leave a few teasing touches, she’s pulling her hand from your panties and holding her hand up for you all to see. Jungkook’s gaze bores into the glistening digits, licking his lips slowly. 

“Open,” she commands and his mouth falls obediently open, hope shining in his eyes when her fingers inch closer to his lips. “Do you want to taste noona?”

“Yes,” he breaths out, tongue extending like it’ll get Yoonji’s fingers to his mouth faster. 

She stops just before she reaches his tongue and when he strains closer in an attempt to touch, she pulls her fingers away, keeping them teasingly just out of his reach. “Answer noona’s question first, baby. Good boy’s always answer when asked a question. And you wouldn’t want to be bad, now would you?”

Blonde hair flies as he quickly shakes his head no. “No! I’m good! I promise! Please, I wanna taste noona!”

Yoonji’s smile softens. “What a good boy.” 

With that, her fingers press against his tongue. Moaning, Jungkook’s lips close around the digits as he sucks enthusiastically. You wonder if he’s as enthusiastic when he’s eating someone out and your pussy clenches at the thought. A few moments later, she pulls her fingers free and Jungkook’s lips purse in a pout, drawing a laugh from both of you. You shift, finally tugging your panties down to discard over the edge of the bed. Jungkook’s eyes are drawn back to your pussy, now bared for him to see. 

His hand twitches where it rests against your hip, but it doesn’t move and there’s a rush of heat that accompanies the fact that he’s doing so well already. Turning to Yoonji, you begin to tug at her panties, earning a laugh from her as she moves to help you get them off of her. 

As much as you want to take in Jungkook’s reaction to you both being naked before him, you can’t stop the greedy part of you that reaches out to slip your hand between her legs to touch. A soft sigh leaves her lips and you can’t help but lean in to smother the sound with a kiss. Your fingers find her just as wet as you are yourself and you relish in the moment to tease your fingers along her pussy. 

Whining, Jungkook squirms beneath you both, thigh inadvertently bumping your hand harder against Yoonji and further smearing her wetness across your palm. You pull your hand away and Jungkook follows the movement with laser focus. 

“Want to taste your other noona, baby?” you tease. 

“Yes, please,” he murmurs.

Biting your lip on a smile, you move your hand slowly closer to his open mouth, watching the way his eyes light up with excitement. But before you reach his lips, you stop, drawing a pretty pout from the boy. Then you wink and you quickly bring your fingers to your own mouth instead. Twin gasps greet the action as you slip two fingers into your mouth and moan at the taste of Yoonji on your tongue. Your eyes slip closed as you suck your fingers clean and when you pull your fingers free and glance down to Jungkook, you’re met with a look that is equal parts jealous and hungry. 

Hand dropping to the bed beside him, his eyes widen as you lean over him. “Still want a taste, baby?”

His gaze darts to your lips as he nods. You seal your mouth over his, taking advantage of the surprised part to his lips to slip your tongue in. He whimpers, hands coming up to rest on your hips as he chases the taste of Yoonji on your lips. 

Kissing Jungkook is nothing like kissing Yoonji. He’s like putty beneath you, following your lead where Yoonji fought you for control, kept you on your toes. Not necessarily aggressive, but Yoonji kisses you with a consuming hunger, burning you from the inside out. Jungkook is like a breath of fresh air, he’s soft and needy, making these quiet little huffs with each brush of your tongue. You wonder if he realizes that he’s moved his hands, that he’s touching you when he’s not supposed to be, but you decide to let it slide just this once. You’re much more interested in drawing out more of those sweet, little sounds from him.  

A moment later though, his hands are being pulled away and Yoonji is tutting him as she leans against you to pin his hands to the bed. “Naughty boy, what did we say about touching?”

With a whine, he pulls away from your mouth. “‘M sorry... “

You snicker. “Is noona so good at kissing that you forgot the rules, sweet thing?”

Jungkook lets out a low whine again. “Noona.”

Yoonji shifts against you, hands adjusting her grip on Jungkook’s wrists and you’re momentarily distracted by the press of her breasts against your back. Pressing again, she forces you to drop fully against Jungkook as she hooks her chin over your shoulder. 

“I’ll just have to hold you while noona kisses you, hm?”

He squirms beneath you and you see him strain feebly against Yoonji’s hands. You all know that he could easily break her hold; that the strain he shows is feigned and exaggerated. But his acquiescence to her grip, to you both taking control, is the most telling thing to his desires. He wants this, just as much as you both. Even if he’s new and inexperienced in this aspect, he wants. 

His lips part with small huffs and you can’t help yourself when you dip back down to kiss him. He squirms again before melting entirely into the kiss, letting Yoonji hold him still while you lick into his mouth. A heady rush fills you at his pliancy, you always imagined him submitting, but it was nothing like this. Jungkook behaves like he’s been subbing for you both for ages, like he knows the routine, that the momentary lapses in following the rules is nothing more than being a little bratty to provoke a reaction. 

The kiss stretches, you don’t know for how long, getting lost in the feeling of Jungkook beneath you and the softness of Yoonji’s breasts pressing into your back. Jungkook’s hips twitch, his cock brushing wetly against your side and you finally decide to have some mercy on him. Lifting slightly, Yoonji gets the hint and sits up fully, allowing you to do the same. You smile at the way Jungkook is laid out, eyes lidded, lips kiss swollen and flush sitting high on his cheeks. He looks fucked out already and barely anything has happened yet. 

Taking Yoonji’s hand in yours, you lift it to your lips to press a soft kiss to the palm. “I think it’s time to reward our baby, hm? He’s been so good for his first time.”

Her fingers brush your cheek as she smiles. “He does.” She turns her attention back to Jungkook. “How do you want your noonas, baby?”

Swallowing, his gaze flicks back and forth between the two of you. He takes a long time to answer, seemingly nervous. “I… I don’t know… I’m s-sorry…”

“Aw sweetheart, there’s no need to be sorry. You’re just overwhelmed, huh?” He nods, lips pursed in a pout, and you continue. “Do you want your noonas to pick something for your reward for you?”

“Yes, please… There’s too many things… I can’t pick…”

You pat his side affectionately. “It’s okay, baby. Noonas will take good care of you.”

His eyes shine at your praise as he nods eagerly. You and Yoonji exchange looks and seem to be thinking the same thing as you move off Jungkook’s thigh to move further up the bed and Yoonji shifts to fully straddle his hips. 

Yoonji grins as she sees the way Jungkook follows your movement. “Ever had someone sit on your face, baby?”

Eyes widening, his gaze darts to Yoonji before turning back to you and you raise an eyebrow when he doesn’t answer. “N-no…”

“Pinch my thigh if you need to stop for any reason, okay, baby?” You wait for him to murmur a quiet ‘okay’ before moving to throw your leg over his head.

You feel his breath hot against your wet folds and when you glance up at Yoonji, you see her focus is trained where you sit just above Jungkook’s mouth. With a lick of your lips, you lower yourself until your pussy presses to Jungkook’s mouth, which instantly falls open, tongue darting out to lap at your slit. Groaning, you grind against his tongue, giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy the pleasure sizzling in your belly. 

Then you’re reaching up for Yoonji, grabbing her hips to tug her until she’s hovering over Jungkook’s cock. One hand slides from her hips and you let your fingers trace lightly along her slit, knuckles brushing his cock as you do. 

You hold Yoonji’s gaze as you begin speaking, fingers dipping between her folds to tease at her clit. “Gotta get noona ready for you, baby. Get her nice and stretched for your big, pretty cock.” 

Jungkook whines against you and Yoonji lets out a low moan as you slip a finger into her. Yoonji is warm and wet and tight around your finger and your breath stutters as she clenches around the digit. Letting your finger curl, you rub against her walls, searching for that spongy bundle of nerves. 

It takes a few seconds, your attention being pulled by Jungkook’s tongue as he enthusiastically eats you out. But you find it quick enough, signaled by the sharp gasp that leaves her lips when you finally brush against it. Grinning victoriously, you tease at the bundle until her thighs begin to quiver, pleased to have wrung such a reaction from her.

Her hand darts out suddenly, gripping your wrist tightly. Her gaze is dark when it meets yours and she arches an eyebrow at you. “I think you’re enjoying yourself more than getting me ready for our baby,” she teases.

Your body heats. She’s not wrong, you maybe did forget what you were doing a little bit. Grinning, you slide your finger out until just the tip remains before thrusting back in with two. “Guilty.”

She opens her mouth to speak again but you let your thumb brush her clit and it effectively silences her retort. She glares for only a moment before letting her head fall back with a groan and letting herself enjoy the slow pumps of your fingers. 

Slipping a third finger in, Yoonji’s hips start to move, little grinds that push your hand against Jungkook’s cock. You lift your hips slightly, giving Jungkook a moment to breath. 

“Are you ready for noona to ride you, baby?” you ask as you pull your fingers from Yoonji. 

All you get in response is a whimper as you grasp his cock with your wet fingers, other hand settling on Yoonji’s hip and you guide him to her entrance. You give her hip a squeeze and she lets herself drop, pulling your hand away so her hips can settle flush to his. You can feel Jungkook’s breath panting hot against your pussy, his hands squeezing tightly at the sheets.

“How does noona’s pussy feel, baby?” you murmur. He whines and you give his nipple a pinch, making his hips jerk. “When noona asks a question, she expects an answer.”

“‘M sorry… Noona feels good…”

You let your free hand settle on Yoonji’s other hip. “How’s he feel?”

“Fuck… so good. He’s such a good boy.” 

Jungkook’s hands suddenly wrap around your thighs. You jerk in surprise, ready to reprimand him, but before you can say anything, he’s pulling you back down onto his mouth. Yoonji laughs breathlessly, hands coming to rest on his belly as she starts to lift her hips. 

“How’s his mouth?”

Giving her a groan in response, you grind against his tongue, toes curling as his fingers tighten against your thighs. Both of you fall quiet, save for pants and moans, letting yourselves be consumed with chasing your own pleasure for a moment. Heat simmers in your belly, building with each swipe of Jungkook’s tongue and teasing suck to your clit. Jungkook’s efforts combined with the view of Yoonji riding his cock has your orgasm building until one harsh suck pushes you over the edge. 

Head falling back, you moan as your orgasm spreads through your veins, igniting like fire and leaving you shuddering as Jungkook seems to get even more enthusiastic below you. You vaguely hear Yoonji swear under her breath, but you don’t have it in you to look at her as Jungkook draws your orgasm out. 

Finally you lift your hips, overstimulation beginning to creep in, and you and Jungkook pant together as your high slowly ebbs away and you come back to yourself. Blinking your eyes open, you see Yoonji’s have slipped closed as she moves and you find your gaze glued to the way her tits bounce with each movement. 

Seeing an opportunity, you reach forward, letting your fingers find her clit and her eyes shoot open with a gasp at your touch. You grin, shifting so you’re knelt beside the pair. “Baby,” you coo, “look how pretty noona looks sitting on your dick.”

It takes him a moment, but Jungkook’s head lifts and your pussy clenches at the sheen of your slick covering the lower half of his face. His lips are parted as he makes sweet, little noises, soft moans and whines, and his hazy eyes trail over you both like he doesn’t truly know where to look. You swirl your fingers, drawing a wheezed gasp from Jungkook and you can’t help the teasing grin that forms. 

“Aw, baby. Did noona tighten up? Is she close? Are you gonna be good and let her cum on your cock?”

Jungkook’s nodding before you even finish speaking, hips twitching in small little thrusts and you pick up the pace on her clit. Leaning forward, you take one of her nipples in your mouth, teeth teasing the bud before you sooth it with your tongue.

“Fuck… gonna-” She cuts off, moving faster until her hips slam down as she starts to cum. 

You keep your fingers going, gradually slowing down as her orgasm shudders through her. Jungkook whines and squirms beneath her, but remains more still that others would. She tugs your hand away finally as she continues to shiver with aftershocks. You bring your fingers to your mouth with a teasing glance and lick them clean as she watches through hooded eyes. 

Jungkook whimpers, drawing both of attention to him and Yoonji lifts herself off his cock, drawing an even louder whine from him. 

You pat his side soothingly. “Don’t worry, baby. We’re gonna take care of you. Want your noona’s mouth?”

He blinks wet eyes at you both, cock twitching where it lays against his belly and Yoonji laughs. “I think that’s a yes.”

She takes him in her hand and his hips strain up into her grip. He’s so desperate already and you have barely even teased him or drawn this out. He’s definitely going to be fun in the future. Leaning down, you let your tongue swirl around the tip, licking up the taste of Yoonji and Jungkook together. They taste wonderfully divine. His hips strain upwards again and you and Yoonji each use a hand to hold his hips down as you continue your slow, teasing licks. Once you’ve licked all traces of Yoonji from him, you take him into your mouth, humming in content at the way he stretches your lips.

“‘M g-gonna… please… please can I?”

“Aw, you’re asking permission? You’re such a good boy. Of course you can cum, baby. You’ve been so good to your noonas.”

It takes only a couple bobs of your head for his back to bow as the first spurt of salty fluid hits your tongue. He cries out, body strung tight as he cums down your throat. You let your tongue rub at his frenulum as you and Yoonji work to draw out his orgasm as long as possible. When he begins to tremble and whimper, you finally pull away, licking your lips clean as you do. 

Jungkook’s eyes are shut tight, shuddering through the last aftershocks and he looks beautifully debauched. Glancing at Yoonji, you see the same fond look on her face that you know to be on yours. Leaning down, you pepper a few kisses to his lips and cheeks before stretching out beside him and cuddling up to his side. 

“You did such a good job, baby. You were so good for us,” you murmur, letting your hand rub his belly. 

Yoonji mirrors you and after a moment, halts your rubbing by interlacing your fingers with her. The look on her face is hard to read, but she gives you a reassuring squeeze. 

“The best baby,” she agrees, turning to Jungkook and giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

Jungkook gets a goofy grin, seeming to melt between the both of you at the praise. At the rate he’s going, he might have a bigger praise kink than Jimin. You all fall silent, breath evening out and simply enjoy the afterglow. You assume Jungkook at the very least has fallen asleep as your mind begins to swirl with the implications of what just happened. 

Leave it to your overthinking to ruin a nice postcoital cuddle. But you can’t help but wonder where this leaves the three of you. Was this just a one time thing? Does it mean anything deeper? You want so badly for it to mean more, but you also know that getting your hopes up leads to more hurt in the end. 

Jungkook surprises you by breaking the silence, voice rough like he’s fighting sleep. “What does this mean?” 

He sounds so small when he says it, it makes your heart ache a little. You’re not sure how to answer him though, because you also don’t really know what this means. You know what it means for you, but you can’t speak for Yoonji, or even Jungkook. 

Yoonji pushes up onto her elbow so she can look at you both and you see that same fond look in her eyes again. It makes something warm and content twist in your belly. “I thought I had made my intentions clear, but I guess not. I like you.” Before the hurt you feel can stretch too far, she looks at you. “Both of you. I had intended to get that done first tonight. But, uh, well things got a little carried away.”

Jungkook snorts. “Only a little?”

She pulls her hand from yours, giving him a quick pinch. “Hey! Don’t go getting mouthy now.”

Grinning in response, he wraps his arms around you both, tugging you somehow closer. “I like you both too… I have for a really long time…” he pauses, seeming to think for a moment before continuing. “And I really liked tonight… What we did… I’d like to explore more of that…”

They both look at you and you can’t help the giddy grin that spreads across your face. You push yourself up just enough to lean across to give Yoonji a kiss and then turn to give Jungkook one too. “Of course I like you both. God, who couldn’t? You both are so wonderful.”

Jungkook giggles happily and then in the blink, he’s managed to get you and Yoonji pushed together as he hovers over you both. He gives you each a kiss to the forehead. “So does this mean you’ll be my girlfriends?” Laughing, you give him a nod and he glows with happiness. “I have the prettiest girlfriends.”

You and Yoonji both reach up, each cupping one of his cheeks. Warm floods you, feeling happy and content with them both. 

“And we have the prettiest boyfriend.”

[swaps55]

How would you have made the final mission and endings for ME3?

Ahahahaha, boy is that the million dollar question. The short answer is below the cut. The long answer involves going back to ME2 and gutting all kinds of things in order to reshape ME3 so a lot more things make sense.

There’s no easy way to fix the ending, but if I had to make lemons out of lemonades with only the battle for Earth to work with, this is what I would do:

Off Kai Leng on Sanctuary, or better yet, let Miranda do it and have a big moment. Fight TIM on his base and get it over with. Let Earth be about the reapers.

Rip out the star child. This entire trilogy has been about making choices. All of those choices lead to the final battle. At that point, the ending should be shaped by the choices you have already made, not negated by a final surprise choice in the final 10 minutes.

Without the Star Child, the Crucible fires a la the MEHEM mod, Shepard is rescued, woo, we win. Or lose, depending on your choices. It should be possible to lose. There’s a lot at stake here, and it should feel like it at the end.

We have spent three games making choices. In that time we’ve forged alliances, alienated allies, etc. etc. All of those choices should come home to roost. The way the final battle unfolds should be shaped by the things you’ve done – and the things you have not done – across the entire trilogy.

There is a thread on Reddit, a magic yet depressing thread, in which, people threw out their fantasies of what should have happened during that final battle. It brilliantly showcases what could have been. A few of my favorites:

“I had some man tears going when Admiral Zaal'Koris and crew flew Qwib Qwib into a suicide run ramming and taking out a reaper vessel. It really captured the desperation of the space battle. Keelah se'lai.”

“That confrontation with Harbinger was crazy! When you had to fight off Indoctrination with Paragon or Renegade interrupts after your squad mates were taken down, I was on the edge of my seat trying to get the timing right. After you set off that bomb right on Harbingers core, I was so lucky that I talked Garrus away from renegade decisions in the first two games, I don't think he would have saved Shepard.”

“Favourite: The scene with Shiala and the Zhu's Hope colonists was unbelievable! It was like watching a perfectly choreographed dance on the battlefield; they way they just mowed through that Reaper force was fantastic. Most emotional: seeing Kolyat show up on the battlefield in Thane's coat. Sniff.”

“I loved the bit where that reaper swoops down and is about to obliterate everything, but then the Destiny Ascension arrives and rams it into the ground. Then the subsequent section battling through the crashed destiny ascension, then transitioning through into the interior of the reaper. Great contrast in architecture. No idea how it would have played out had I not saved the council in ME1.”

“It would be an alliance ship that does that, with Rear Admiral Mikhailovich on the helm. You know, that dick that criticized your ship in ME1.”

“He was a good guy though, sacrificing himself to hold off that Banshee swarm so you could keep going. Pure gold.”

“I actually laughed out loud at Conrad Verner's antics with the Volus Biotic God and how they unwittingly took out a Brute.”

“I liked the part where Javik held off the approaching Destroyer alone, giving Shepard and Co. enough time to fire up the missiles. God, when Javik yelled, "I stand in living testament to your failure, Reaper! I am the Empire that would not die! I am the people who would not falter! I am the last of the Protheans and my people cry for vengeance!" Gives me chills every time. R.I.P, Javil. You sacrificed so much.”

“If you amass enough Hanar/Drell fleet, you can actually get him to survive. He'll say all that, and just before the red beam gets to him, the Hanar/Drell fighters would distract the destroyer, allowing Javik to get a clear shot with his Cain.”

Those are just a few of the inspirational moments that grew out of that Reddit thread. I encourage anyone to go through that archive. It’ll give you chills. Imagine what we could have had.

Would these kinds of options be ungodly expensive and time consuming and complicated to program? Yes. But quite frankly, the final, climactic battle is where the money should have gone. Cut other stuff. This is what players have been working towards. This is what it all comes down to. Thisis what you need to get right. A lot of it could come down to audio chatter and ending stills or whatever, rather than cutscenes. Finding a way to make it happen would have been worth it.

These kinds of things would not have fixed the weird shit like the beam and the Citadel moving, and the Citadel as the catalyst making no sense at all, but it would have felt so much better.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I was wondering if I could ask for your input in regards to the Mandalorian. I've seen quite a few people accuse Favreau and Filoni of being "bad writers" because they took everything away from Din (his creed, his ship, his kid) and gave him a responsibility he didn't ask for (the darksaber) all for the sake of fan service. I feel like the audience has forgotten this was always going to happen. I just think many of us weren't ready for them to say goodbye so soon. What do you think?

First of all, no. Favreau and Filoni are some of the best writers working on Star Wars, y’all just don’t understand basic story structure.

We’re in the second season.  We’re going to get a third season.  This is Din at his lowest, fully questioning who he is and what he has been taught to believe.  He didn’t lose the code, he’s reorganizing his priorities and forming his own path.  As we’ve seen this season Din was part of an extreme subset of Mandalorians.  Mandalorians are notorious for in fighting, redefining what it means to be a Mandalorian based on their own beliefs and priorities.  Din is forging his own definition, which plays into why he has the darksaber and not Bo-Katan. 

The loss of the ship also plays into this.  It’s been his home, his status quo and by extension the audience.  By destroying the ship, his nomadic life isn’t really something he can fall back on.  He had connections now and different responsibilities. The ship gave him the option to walk away and now it’s gone.

As for the darksaber, Din is constantly walking ass backwards into responsibilities he didn’t ask for, it’s kind of the whole premise of the show.  And considering how may times Bo-Katan has lost Mandalor, she doesn’t have the claim to it she thinks she does.  Din, through not only his capabilities as a warrior, but clear kindness and focus of helping the helpless, is a much better suited model to unite Mandalor than Bo-Katan.  And considering how much Filoni clearly love writing about Mandalor, I’m sure he’s going to do some fun stuff with that.

As for Grogu being taken by Luke, there was no other way to do it.

Grogu was going to join the Jedi, it was the goal of the entire season.  He wouldn’t have been able to train with Din. Ahsoka, for obvious reasons, was hesitant to train him. Just because you didn’t like it was Luke didn’t mean it was bad writing, you just didn’t like that particular kind of fan service.  Because, guess what, if Cal or whoever showed up for the big damn rescue, it still would have been fan service. At least with Luke it was a familiar face for people who haven’t played the games or invested time in Star Wars media outside of the movies. 

It’s sad, but it was always going to be. The fact that people were upset that Din and Grogu had to separate is actually a testament how just how good the writing actually is.

The Mandalorian is good Star Wars, let people enjoy themselves.

[smol-bee-stories]

At the End of Our Lives

Akaashi Keiji sits alone on the engawa overlooking Osaka. It's an awfully quiet day, nothing like the life he's grown used to over the last 70 years. He misses him. After all, Bokuto Koutaro is a man who knows how to leave a mark.

Notes: my second fic! Please leave constructive criticism and comments~

You can also find me on Ao3 at https://archiveofourown.org/users/smol_bee_stories/pseuds/smol_bee_stories

Summers in Osaka are quite warm. They always have been - in the many years that Akaashi Keiji has spent there, there has never been a cool summer. Summers are always warm and humid, filled with the hums of cicadas and grasshoppers alongside the slow trickle of the river. And for the last 70 years, it had been filled with the booming voice of Bokuto Koutaro. But for the first summer in 70 years, that sound was missing.

Bokuto Koutaro died earlier that year. After a well blossomed professional volleyball career and colorful life filled with joy and laughter, he died as all men oneday will. He died in the winter, at the ripe old age of 91 - a peaceful natural death, hand gently placed in Akaashi’s and a smile on his face. Even as Akaashi’s heart shattered in that moment, he couldn’t help but mirror Bokuto’s smile. Spring came late that year.

For the first few months after Bokuto’s passing, Akaashi hadn’t felt too lonely. He supposed it just hadn’t hit him yet, the true weight of being alone. He hadn’t really thought that Bokuto was gone - after all, throughout Bokuto’s career as a star volleyball player turned renowned coach, he was often away from home for months at a time. But now, as Akaashi sat on the engawa, facing towards the lush bloom of his first summer alone, Bokuto’s passing hit him harder than it had yet in all those months since he’s been gone. It was too quiet. The crickets sounded too lonely. His heart felt a little too empty. He missed him.

Bokuto and Akaashi’s lives together had been a rambunctious one. How could it not have been, with a personality like Bokuto’s? Despite Akaashi’s placid nature, there was never a moment of silence. Like all couples, they had their ups and downs. When Bokuto first moved all the way from Tokyo to Osaka to play for the MSBY Jackals, Akaashi thought that that would be the end to his chances with the energetic man. But Bokuto called every night precisely at 10 o’clock - for a whole year and a half he didn’t miss a single call, up until the night Akaashi finally confessed. Bokuto cried (and whined about how long it took) for about an hour that call. Akaashi couldn’t stand to hear him whine then, but only thought fondly of it now. When Akaashi first made the move to Osaka, he was appalled at the state of decay Bokuto’s apartment was in - he knew the man was messy, but the level of mess that Bokuto was living in truly was beyond human comprehension. Akaashi almost left that moment. But they made it through (well, he made it through), and they got married the year after, moving into a home of their own that Akaashi had put quite a bit of effort (and for years to come, continued to put quite a bit of effort) into keeping tidy. The next 60 years were just like the last 10, their relationship like the rivers of Osaka that their home overlooked - full of push and pulls, but constant and steady. They spent their lives loving each other through the storms, holding onto each other even as other constants disappeared. And now that Akaashi was without the one constant that’s anchored him for the last 70 years of his life, for the first time in decades, he didn’t know what to do.

For the first time, as Akaashi’s old and aging body looked out into the warm summer fields of Osaka that he had grown so familiar with, he didn’t feel any joy. He felt an ache in his chest that was quiet, yet it raged through him without any end in sight. He missed Bokuto stomping through the house with their grandchildren on his back. He missed Bokuto asking him to play volleyball with him, despite the fact that neither of them could move very well anymore. He missed Bokuto spilling the tea in little droplets on their guests as he served it to them. He missed Bokuto’s loud snores as Akaashi sat on the engawa and read. He missed Bokuto so much it felt as though he were being swept away, no longer anchored to the blissful reality he had grown so used to and instead drifting in a sea of anguish. He wished so badly to hold Bokuto once more, to see him once more - even if just to whisper one last “I love you.” Akaashi was hurting.

But even as he sat on the engawa, visibly alone and heart aching, all around him Akaashi could still see Bokuto. Along the length of the engawa, he could see multiple stains left by the various spills Bokuto often made. In the yard, he could see the tree where Bokuto had carved their names and the names of their children. Just past the tree, he could see the river where Bokuto almost drowned their former Fukurodani teammates on a disastrous fishing trip. Love is not perfect, and almost everyday Akaashi was reminded of this. Even now with Bokuto gone. But love is good, and it is constant. Bokuto had been his constant, and Akaashi knew that he would always be his constant. Love is a fickle creature, and it refuses to be forgotten.

He would remember Bokuto in the starlit sunset and cool summer nights. He would remember him in tempura dinners that he now ate alone and loud conversations by the dinner table. He would remember him in the gleaming eyes of their grandchildren and the volleyball courts that they passed down to them. He would remember him as strong arms holding him through the storm and quiet breaths of “I love you.” And there was no way he could ever forget him - Bokuto made sure of that when he engraved himself into every piece of Akaashi’s soul. Bokuto was and is every part of Akaashi’s being, and even if he were somewhere far away Akaashi knew they would find their way to one another again. They always did.

“I always knew I would go first. Always wanted to be first at everything, used up all my energy instead of saving it like you told me to.” “And yet you continue to waste the last of your energy making stupid jokes.” “Akaaaaaaaashi, c’mon, I’m literally on my deathbed, say somethin’ sweet.” “Koutarou, we’ve been married for years now, stop calling me Akaashi.” “But it’s the name I called you when we first met! Remember how you promised to set for me? Haha, look at us now. To me, you’ll always be Akaashi.” “Koutarou…” Akaashi hadn’t meant to, he had been trying really hard to fight it, but his voice cracked before he could stop it. “C’mon Keiji, don’t be sad, it happens to the best of us, obviously, seeing as *I’m* dying.” “Stop speaking so loudly, you’ll wear yourself out faster.” “But there’s still so much I wanna say…” "There's always something you want to say, Kou." Silence falls between them for a moment as Bokuto’s spirit falters. He’s fading away, going somewhere Akaashi can’t reach yet. “Hey Keiji..” “Yes Koutarou?” “I don’t know what’s waiting after this life. Heaven, reincarnation, whatever - I don’t really care… but promise me.” A shaky breath. “Promise me that no matter where we end up, you’ll find me again. Cuz this may be the end of my life, but it sure as hell ain’t the end of ours.” Akaashi was sobbing now. Of all times for Bokuto to suddenly become eloquent. “I promise. I promise, Koutarou.” Silence fell on them as Bokuto’s breaths shallowed. “What a shame. We almost made it to 71.” A grin. “70’s a pretty good number.” A soft smile littered in tears. “I love you, Koutarou.” “Love you too, Keiji. See you soon.” And with that, Bokuto was gone with a smile on his face. And despite the tears falling from Akaashi’s eyes, he couldn’t help but smile back.

When they made their vows at the altar that day - no, even before that day, long before they made their vows - when they were just two high school boys playing volleyball together, they had known that their lives would be inexplicably intertwined. From the moment his name left Bokuto’s lips, Akaashi’s life was Bokuto’s just as Bokuto’s was his. Even now, as Akaashi sat alone on the engawa without Bokuto’s booming presence, he knew through the aching pain that he would never be truly alone. The ring on his finger was proof of that much, and the world that they had built in the last 70 years spent together was its testament. His life was no longer his alone - it hadn’t been for a long time now, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Akaashi gathered up the book that was sitting on his lap, heaving through old bones as he got up from his spot on the engawa, making his way inside. After all, it was almost time to go watch their granddaughter’s volleyball game.

Notes:

[gamersonthego]

Chase Koeneke's Top 25 GBA Games

There’s an argument to be made that the Game Boy Advance is where handheld gaming peaked. Its successor, the DS, represented a massive shift, with its two screens, accelerometer and touch capabilities. In contrast, the GBA is simple and pure. It’s a Game Boy, just…well, advanced. And the games also had a simple purity to them, pushing pixels and innovation within the games themselves, not relying on hardware gimmicks to keep players’ attention. Don’t get me wrong: I love the DS (read my top 25 games for it for proof), but the GBA’s library represents, in many ways, the pinnacle of what handheld gaming should be. And this list will show you why.

1. Golden Sun

I love Golden Sun for so many reasons: It’s memorable cast, strong music, gorgeous locations and challenging puzzles. But it’s the game’s variety in combat that has cemented it as my favorite GBA game ever. Golden Sun is a JRPG, and it most games of the genre, you tend to have attacks with weapons and attacks with magic (and potentially a special skill or two). Golden Sun gives you so much more. Your most basic weapon attacks have a chance to “let out a howl,” creating secondary effects, often with incredible animations. Your magic is customizable and ever-changing. And the game adds a new system of collectible djinn that lead to devastating and jaw-dropping summons. It’s the most complete JRPG combat I’ve ever experienced.

2. Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones

It wasn’t until Fire Emblem Awakening on the 3DS that I really fell in love with the franchise, but coming back to the GBA games, I see the roots that make these games so special to me. Sacred Stones has a colorful and varied cast, and you’ll quickly find favorites within your army. It’s one of the easiest entries in the series (you could pretty much solo the game with one, particular unit,) but in my eyes, that makes it a perfect starting point to learn what makes Fire Emblem amazing.

3. Pokemon FireRed/LeafGreen

I grew up with Red and Blue, so the idea of coming back to Kanto — now with a fresh coat of paint and updated mechanics — sounded like a dream come true. And you know what? It absolutely was. As much as I still love the originals, these games are just better, and are probably the best Pokemon games I’ve ever played.

4. Advance Wars 2: Black Hole Rising

Before I even knew what Fire Emblem was, I have loved Advance Wars. Its vibrant graphics and sharp strategy mechanics make it one of the best the GBA has to offer. And while the first game is great (check a few spots down below to see), the second game just gives you more to love with new units and a new characters to deal with.

5. WarioWare Twisted!

I know I talked about GBA games not needing hardware gimmicks, but Twisted is the exception. The second game in the WarioWare franchise, Twisted’s built-into-the-cart accelerometer gameplay is fast, responsive, clever and most of all, zany as hell.

6. Fire Emblem

The first game of the series we got in the West, Fire Emblem 7 is another great entry point. It’s so quintessentially Fire Emblem, that it’s almost a little bland for how vanilla it feels these days. But that’s only because of how much other games in the series have used it as a foundational text, a testament to everything it gets right.

7. Golden Sun: The Lost Age

The second half of the Golden Sun story, The Lost Age gives you a new crew and has you seeing a new perspective during the events of the first game before meeting up and combining forces with the original party to finish the fight. It’s not as endearing as the first title, and by the end, you might even feel overwhelmed with how many options you have, but at its core, it still has that Golden Sun magic, and that’s more than good enough for me.

8. Advance Wars

Not much more to say about Advance Wars I haven’t already covered when I wrote about its sequel. It’s still great. And you really can’t go wrong with either game.

9. Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 2

This might be the most impressive achievement on the GBA. THPS2 adapts the cutting edge and frenetic gameplay of the Tony Hawk games on a portable platform, and does so without really losing anything. Outside of an isometric camera perspective, it’s hard to see where compromises were made. It’s an amazing game, one made even more amazing when you realize this was a launch title for the system!

10. Pokemon Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald

It’s saying something when one of my least favorite generations of Pokemon is still cracking my top 10. I dislike R/S/E for its reliance on pacing-killing water sections, but it brings the goods when it comes to new mechanics and new monsters and a better story than any Pokemon game that had come before.

11. Kirby: Nightmare In Dream Land

12. Final Fantasy V Advance

13. Super Mario Advance 1-4

14. Mario & Luigi Superstar Saga

15. Rock N’ Roll Racing

16. The Legend of Zelda: A Link To The Past and Four Swords

17. Mario Golf: Advance Tour

18. Sonic Advance 2

19. DK: King of Swing

20. Mega Man Battle Network

21. Fire Emblem: The Binding Blade

22. Super Puzzle Fighter II Turbo

23. Super Dodge Ball Advance

24. Mario Vs. Donkey Kong

25. Metal Slug Advance

[aja154ever]

Haikyuu To the Top New Year’s Online Event! Inarizaki High School Special Team Meeting~ Karasuno Still on to the New Year’s Vibe~ 01/10/2021

The report is late, but still posting this for the record!! It’s long and detailed but the talks were really interesting so please read until the end! I promise, you won’t regret it! I also put Haikyuu pictures for easier understanding (but no seiyuu pics from the actual event besides those from the official accounts).

The event was held on 1/10 but there was an archive viewing on 1/23~24 so I watched it again <3

The event starts with a prerecorded video of a mini skit by the voice actors. The video shows the Inarizaki members at the club room at the start of the year (not animated, still images only moving once in a while).

Atsumu: I won this year, Samu! I got more New year postcards than you!

Osamu: But you’re also including the ones sent from business establishments! They don’t count!

Atsumu: Doesn’t matter! They’re addressed to my name, anyway! You’re just a sore loser!

Suna enters the room and they notice that he seems to be happy. Osamu assumed that it’s probably because he got a lot of money from New Year, but warns him that if he spends too much, Kita-san would scold him telling him to save money properly.

Atsumu: Ah! Must be nice to be you, Suna! Because we’re twins, we have to divide and share the money we get from our grandparents! I envy you!

Osamu: *sighs* If I were an only child, I'd get to buy delicious stuff and enjoy all the food by myself!

But Suna clarifies that it’s not because of the money he got why he’s happy, but actually because he got “excellent luck” from the fortune this year.

The twins didn’t expect him to bother about such things, and they said that they don’t actually believe in that because as twins they’re often told to share the same fate.

Kita enters the room and everyone greets him a Happy New Year. Kita greets back and tells them to get ready for the meeting and the practice. Osamu suddenly asks a question before they go though.

Osamu: I heard from Aran-kun before that Kita house’s “ozouni” (Japanese soup with rice cakes traditionally eaten during New Year) is really delicious. Is that true?

Kita: Ah well, it’s made by granny after all, so there’s no way it’s not.

Osamu: Please let me eat that next time!

Atsumu: That’s unfair!!! Let me too!

Kita: *chuckles* Oh, you’re pretty enthusiastic about this, huh. Well, it’s good to properly eat such food during New Year after all. I’ll let you next time.

Twins: Thanks a lot!!

Osamu: Ahhh~ Can’t wait to eat Kita house’s ozouni!

Suna: Osamu, you really do like eating, huh.

Kita reminded them to not get carried away and take care of their bodies. They then go to proceed with their meeting.

The seiyuu event starts with the Inarizaki members greeting a Happy New Year. They’re also happy that Inarizaki is the main focus of this event.

For convenience, they’ll be referred here as follows.

Miyano Mamoru (Atsumu’s seiyuu) - Mamo

Kabumoto Hideaki (Osamu) - Kabu

Nojima Kenji (Kita) - NojiKen

Shimazaki Nobunaga (Suna) - Zakki

They’re all wearing Inarizaki-themed kimonos for the occasion and showed it off with the camera tilting down to up, focusing on each of them, as they also turned around.

Kabu is wearing a matching arm warmer, which he mistakenly calls “warm armer” (Mamo corrects him laughing), that volleyball players apparently use during games. He also shares that he spent the New Year alone (due to the pandemic situation), meanwhile NojiKen went to the Haikyuu exhibit during the holiday and was really impressed with the experience.

There were also seiyuu events held last year but since the anime was still ongoing at that time they cannot fully talk about everything, but now they can go talk without any hesitation. This is also the first time that the four of them gathered for a Haikyuu event.

Zakki has been open about his love for his team in past events and this time he also expressed that with a full smile.

Zakki: I’m really very happy (that we’re all here)! *cute mini jumping/shaking gestures* Ah, i LOVE Inarizaki! I REALLY love this team, it’s the best! Even if I knew that we’d end up losing, I still felt like we were definitely gonna win.

Mamo: But we did lose

Zakki: Don’t say it!

The MC of the event entered afterwards and the seiyuus formally introduced themselves one by one (they almost forgot lol).

Karasuno was then introduced. They also appeared in a mini skit first.

Hinata arrives at the gym first. However, inside the gym Mt. Fuji appeared out of nowhere. He was surprised for a second, but then thought that he’d go climb it anyway. 

Kageyama enters the scene chasing a flying hawk.

Kageyama: Oy boke! Hinata! Catch that bird! Fly!

Hinata jumped and jumped but wasn’t able to catch it.

Kageyama: Oy! How dare you let it go! What was with those little jumps anyway? You wouldn’t reach it with that!

Hinata asked what was that all about and Kageyama said that the hawk matches Mt. Fuji. And with that, Hinata realizes that the only thing lacking for a good luck charm is an eggplant (“nasu” in Jpn).

Hinata: Kageyama! “Ore ni nasu!” (Tr: “Bring the eggplant to me,” but this is a play on the “Toss to me” line which sounds similar in Jpn “Ore ni tosu!”)

Kageyama refused, complaining about it and they started to argue.

The sound of alarm suddenly rings. Hinata wakes up from the dream*, and heads out to go to practice.

*Hatsuyume - the first dream of the year deemed to be important in Jpn culture. Dreaming of Mt. Fuji, hawk, and eggplant is particularly considered to be lucky.

The Karasuno seiyuus then join the rest in the studio saying their greetings.

Murase Ayumu (Hinata) - Ayu

Ishikawa Kaito (Kageyama) - Kaito

Haikyuu Back to the Top!

The seiyuus selected their most memorable scenes from the season.

Ayu and Zakki apparently chose the same: Hinata’s “Nice receive” scene.

Zakki particularly loves the silence that follows after the receive, and Kageyama’s “Nice receive” (he claps when it was shown on the VTR). 

He loves Inarizaki and really wanted to fight and win with them and felt very frustrated when they lost, but he can’t really help but admire this Karasuno scene. The people who were watching the game couldn’t believe what happened that everyone’s feelings synced and they all fell silent. The silence held so much meaning, he thinks that the events and all the drama that occurred for them to reach this turning point gave the scene life, despite the lack of sound, and it was really beautiful. It’s a scene made by everyone. It also happened that he was at the studio during the recording and he saw how Kaito and the director gave so much thought about how Kageyama would say the “Nice receive” line to Hinata.

Ayu adds that the Inarizaki match is indeed very important to Hinata’s growth and this scene is a testament that Hinata’s path was right, and all his efforts weren’t in vain. He also likes the monologue by Japan National Team coach Hibarida in this scene, saying that Hinata’s life as a volleyball player which would still continue from then on, was acknowledged.

Mamo and Kabu’s chosen scenes were also shown together - Twin’s Quick.

Kabu chose the last quick of the game, while Mamo chose all.

For the first quick, Mamo especially liked the moment when it zooms to Atsumu. The reverse quick was also impressive. 

Mamo: *pointing at the VTR* Isn’t this amazing? This is reverse, you know!

Kabu still doesn’t want to believe that their last quick got blocked.

Mamo chose all because of the build-up and growth that happened during the match. The quick attack was something the twins just tried on a whim, but their guts, playfulness, and talent were really amazing.

The last quick was particularly memorable to Kabu because Osamu can be seen as the more reserved of the two, and while the twins carry the same thing inside them their approach and expression of things differ. But in the last scene, Atsumu and Osamu gave their all and really synced 100% perfectly.

Mamo adds that the first and last quick had the same lines, but the tension was very different and he really liked the juxtaposition. As the actors they were also carried away and really let their voices go all out in the last one, and he even thinks that Kabu and him synced perfectly that their voices sounded very alike.

On the other hand, the Karasuno members were also asked for their opinion.

Kaito: Aahhh, no matter how many times I watch it, it’s really amazing. And because it’s the quick attack that we’ve been doing ever since, I still feel irritated, like *points at his face* this area below my eye really twitches unconsciously. That’s our attack! Don’t do it!

Ayu agrees and says that he really likes that last rotation in the game, that if it weren’t for that rotation, if it weren’t Kageyama and Hinata there, Karasuno would not have been able to block that attack. As he also shared in the Jump Festa last time, it’s theirs and they’re the ones who knew it the most so it’s only perfect that they were the ones who were able to stop that.

The next scene shown was the one Kaito picked which turned out to be unexpected to everyone - Atsumu’s happy scenes compilation.

Kaito explains that they might think that he’s just fooling around, but he actually has a serious reason for choosing this. Kageyama and Atsumu are both setters with similar personalities, they love volleyball, and are very straightforward to their dreams. And while he does like Kageyama’s demeanor, he admires Atsumu’s attitude towards volleyball so much.

Kaito: “I’m having so much fun right now!!” The way Atsumu expresses that, as a human I want to work and live a life like Atsumu who enjoys doing what he loves so much, and is able to openly express it to the world. Atsumu’s way of playing volleyball, those smiles, the voice that holds all the experiences he’s had - i REALLY like them.

Mamo was glad and grateful with the compliment and agrees, sharing that sometimes at the end of a hard day’s work he’s also like Atsumu who’d go tell himself, “Ah! Ain’t today’s me so amazing?!”

He says that Atsumu is so carefree and thinks that there’s nothing wrong with expressing how he feels at the moment, especially when he’s strong because he’s doing his best everytime. It’s the result of his efforts and he takes pride in it. That is why he can express that smile that loves volleyball very much.

The last scene was the one NojiKen selected - Kita’s “Aren’t my teammates amazing?” scene (starting from the “I don’t have any regrets” line).

While watching the VTR,

NojiKen: Ah, I’m gonna cry..

Mamo: This scene would really make you cry… I did cry during the recording.

Kabu: Aran-kuuunnn T.T

NojiKen: It’s very admirable.. Ah, I really wanted them to win..

Mamo: Ahhhh... He’s the best captain...

NojiKen shared that he was torn between choosing this scene or the scene when Kita got his uniform. During the recording the seiyuus, just like the Inarizaki team, fought with their all, only thinking about victory despite them knowing the end result.

So when the team lost, he really felt so frustrated and if it was him, he’d really want to shout and cry. But Kita-san doesn’t have any regrets, and his choice of words here showing the maturity of his heart really struck him.

NojiKen: Kita-san wasn’t crying in the scene, so during the recording I shouldn’t cry too. But after that, I did cry a lot. I think that in the corners of Kita-san’s heart he was really frustrated but hid it, and when he was left alone, he probably shed tears, too.

Mamo: Ahh, what a really nice talk this is..

NojiKen: So frustrating..

Zakki: I really wanted us to win..

For the next corner, the seiyuus were asked (beforehand) to

describe the Karasuno team and the Inarizaki team in one word.

Their answers were compiled and due to the short time allotted for discussion, only a few answers were discussed.

NojiKen: Karasuno = Turkish ice cream

They’re like that ice cream that unbelievably stretches a lot which he likens to Karasuno growing and improving consistently physically and mentally. Moreover, when you buy the ice cream, the vendor usually won’t hand it to you right away and you’d keep chasing for it, and just like that, Karasuno is a team that isn't easily “captured” by their opponents.

Zakki: Karasuno = Sticky sticky love volleyball (they were laughing at Zakki’s lack of vocabulary)

Zakki also defended his answer that well, Karasuno is sticky and stretches out too that no matter how far the opponents go they will stick to them persistently. And because they are sticky, no matter how much they stretch out they won’t get cut easily amidst difficult situations, remaining connected. And because they love volleyball, they don’t stretch out in pain, but happily.

Inarizaki = Go go go head-on love volleyball

Inarizaki has overflowing spirits and potential and they always go for any challenge, almost without limits. He thinks that if Kita-san wasn’t there to steady the hold they’d go flying too much and even collapse somewhere. And of course since they all share that love for volleyball, despite the differences they are able to face everything head-on.

Kaito, to Zakki: You’re saying something so good but because of the word choice it gets negated!

Mamo: Karasuno = comrades; Inarizaki = family

Inarizaki gives off a strong family vibe not only because the twins are literally brothers, but because of the role of each member like one is a responsible parent (Kita), an older brother (Aran), an inexpressive cheeky little brother (Osamu/Suna?), etc, and he likes it. Whereas Karasuno are more like comrades in arms fighting together.

Ayu: Inarizaki = Despair

This team has a lot of potential and it’s as if they don’t have any weaknesses. They can stop the good momentum of the opponent to get back on track, and when the momentum is on their side they also have Kita-san who can prolong that despair. He says that when he first read them in the manga, he was like “it’s impossible to beat them!”

Kaito: Inarizaki = Growth period

Inarizaki is always ever-growing all the while they're having fun, and that road to “ripening” is unstoppable, making this team a formidable opponent.

The next corner featured fortune-telling by a tarot card reader named A.M., which was then revealed to be Ayumu Murase. In private life, he revealed that he enjoys tarot card reading and does it almost everyday. He drew the cards of the other seiyuus beforehand to determine their luck in “battles” this year.

Since this corner isn’t about Haikyuu, I won’t report it in detail.

Basically they were ranked based on their luck, and Ayu explained the readings for each one of them.

Kabu

Mamo

NojiKen

Zakki

Kaito

Since Kaito ranked the lowest, he was given a lucky item - a golden volleyball.

New Year Postcard Pick up Corner

After that, they proceeded to the New Year Postcard Pick up Corner, where cards sent from fans were displayed on a board. This was led by Ayu and Kaito and two cards were picked which contained greetings and questions from the senders.

1st card - Share a moment when you felt like you got hooked on your job again (just like Haikyuu characters did to volleyball).

Ayu and Kaito both answered that it was getting to work in Haikyuu. Kaito expounds that Haikyuu reflects real life as they don’t always win, despite being the main characters. They continue to grow as actors too, and when they get to meet one another in the next seasons they all get to enjoy the new battles they face together.

2nd card - What do you think is Kageyama’s weakness?

Kaito thinks that Kageyama may be seen as strong but he’s not a perfect setter and is continuously supported by the people around him.

Meanwhile, Ayu thinks that as a setter Kageyama may be seen as smart who is good in studies as well, but then the fact that he’s actually just on the same level as Hinata in studying, is cute.

M-1/K-1/S-1/H-1 GranPri

The event then proceeds to the “Grand Prix” program, where three selected scene cuts (VTRs) for each character are shown. Each seiyuu would vote which scene they think represents the character best. After the initial voting, they’d engage in a discussion stating the reason for their choice (though because of time restriction not everyone can speak) where they can persuade others to change their votes. After that they make a final vote.

Miya-1 GranPri: Osamu

Scene 1: from Ep16

Scene 2: from Ep21

Scene 3: from Ep22

Initial Votes:

Zakki

Mamo, Kabu, Ayu

Kaito, NojiKen

Discussion: Kabu remembers that he wondered about how Osamu would talk in this scene, as he’s frustrated but chose to say such words. He talked to Mamo about it and since Mamo/Atsumu would strongly say his lines, Kabu/Osamu also settled to assert his point with more conviction (”Let me finish what I’m saying!”).

Since Kabu discussed his experience that way, other seiyuus were easily convinced to change their answer to 2. Though NojiKen states that his favorite number is 3 that’s why he voted for 3. (So yeah, this didn’t turn into a discussion at all lol)

Final votes: 2 - everyone

Miya-1 GranPri: Atsumu

Scene 1: from Ep4 

Scene 2: from Ep21

Scene 3: from Ep24

Initial Votes:

Kaito, Kabu

Mamo, Zakki, Ayu

NojiKen

Discussion: Kaito had a hard time choosing but ended up voting for 1. He says that scene 1 definitely gave a strong first impression of Atsumu. He got disappointed in Kageyama because he didn’t get thrilled on his by the book’s way of playing volleyball. Mamo adds that when they recorded this Atsumu really appeared as a strong, mysterious senpai character, and Kaito who watched it, honestly said that he’s scary. Kaito adds that there is more impact because he was on the receiving end of those words.

Everyone was a bit silent and looked like they got convinced of Kaito's answer, but Zakki begged to differ. He says that because of scene 1 being scary, people would wonder what kind of person Atsumu is, and once they see scene 2 they’d understand where he is coming from. They’d see that Atsumu is a very earnest person who goes straight forward to what he wants and has to do. In an instant, all of Atsumu’s appeal/charm as a person, as a player is shown.

Zakki: Won’t everyone begin to like Atsumu because of this scene?

NojiKen was about to defend his answer, apparently he has a proper reason this time for voting 3, but the time limit bell rang before he had the chance to do so.

Final Votes: 2 - Zakki, NojiKen, 1 - the rest

Kage-1 GranPri

Scene 1: from Ep7

Scene 2: from Ep19 (Kalm Kageyama)

Scene 3: from Ep24 (Setter Dump)

Initial Votes:

Kaito

Ayu

Mamo, Kabu, NojiKen, Zakki

Discussion: NojiKen says that scene 3 exhibited Kageyama’s sharp intellect as a setter that thoroughly thinks about the strategy. Kabu adds that with this, he thinks Kageyama was able to get even with Atsumu from the goody two-shoes remark.

Ayu thinks that scene 3 was indeed impactful on the opponent side (that’s why all Inarizaki voted for it), but for a teammate the presence of a ‘Kalm Kageyama’ is impressive as it shows a different side of him when playing so he went for 2.

Kaito finds scene 1 a very important turning point for Kageyama as Hinata makes him a king. A king is someone who can’t exist without his own people, so a king only becomes one because he is chosen. Up to now Kageyama has been nothing but a lonely king, so that act from Hinata for the first time ever officially made him the King of the Court. And from that, scene 2 is born showing a King, and then scene 3 shows that this King can also act like this.

Final Votes: 2 - Kaito, 1 - the rest

It was a surprise that after everything Kaito said, he ended up the one changing his answer but he didn’t give any explanation about it.

Suna-1 GranPri

Scene 1: from Ep19

Scene 2: from Ep19 (the old man discussing Suna’s ability)

Scene 3: from Ep20 (Suna wanting to find Kita’s weakness)

Initial Votes:

Mamo, Kabu, Ayu

Kaito

Zakki, NojiKen

Discussion: 

Mamo: 3 is Kita-san’s scene!

Zakki: And 2 is the old man’s scene!

Kaito defends 2 saying that core training is very hard and he looks up to Suna for being able to master that. But when he thought about 1 again, he says that 1 is indeed a good scene and considers changing his answer right then lol. Meanwhile, NojiKen actually wanted to choose 1 but Kita-san was in scene 3 so he voted for that.

Mamo: Well, that was Kita-san’s cute scene after all!

Zakki was about to explain about 1 but was cut by the time limit bell.

Final Votes: 4 - Zakki, 1 - the rest

Zakki explained that he likes 1 but the scene he liked the most was the exchange when Tsukki got back on Suna, so he chose 4. Mamo agrees and teases the staff that they should have chosen to put that scene in the selection instead.

Kita-1 GranPri

Scene 1: from Ep20 (scene cut starts from Aran and Kita going home until this “chanto yannen” scene)

Scene 2: from Ep20 (Kita analyzing the 2nd years one by one)

Scene 3: from Ep24 (“I’m a human invited to a monster’s ball.”)

Initial Votes:

1 - Mamo, Kabu, Zakki, Ayu, Kaito

3 - NojiKen

Discussion: NojiKen continues fooling around by choosing 3 even if he actually likes 1. Mamo says that he actually likes the scene before 1, the moment when Kita-san got his uniform and proceeds to tease the staff again to put that scene instead. But Kabu says that he likes that going home scene, surprised that Kita-san can laugh like that and Aran was also cute for getting confused at what Kita-san was talking about. Kaito adds that scene 1 also shows us the level of friendship that Kita-san and Aran have. Kita-san laughed but Aran didn’t look surprised, meaning that he has seen it before - Aran knows Kita-san’s smile.

Final Votes: 1 - everyone

Hina-1 GranPri

Scene 1: from Ep1 

Scene 2: from Ep13

Scene 3: from Ep24

Initial Votes:

1 - Mamo, Kaito

3 - Kabu, NojiKen, Zakki, Ayu

Discussion: Kaito was very hesitant in making a decision again but ended up with 1. Ayu starts the discussion saying that 1 and 2 are indeed very Hinata-like, but 3 left a big impression on him, seeing Hinata become someone who is able to give his teammates a moment to breathe in the middle of a game, showing how much he has grown. He was deeply moved when he read it in the manga and when he watched it in the anime again.

For a moment Kaito wanted to change his answer to 3, but then explains that 1 is the very starting line of To the Top. Because of that, not only Hinata but Karasuno was able to face and fight Inarizaki like this. Mamo comments on a different note. He wasn’t in the studio during the recording of 1 but when he watched it again now, he felt impressed and realized how along with Hinata Shoyo, Murase Ayumu the seiyuu has also grown a lot. That one short scene makes Ayu’s development very clear, for being able to voice act like that. Ayu was so happy and grateful he immediately changed his answer to 1. 

Final Votes: 3 - Kabu, NojiKen, 1 - the rest

New Year Postcard Pick up Corner 2

After the Granpri, they went to the New Year Postcard Pick up Corner again, led this time by Mamo and Kabu.

Mamo: Hi! We are Hyogo’s Miya twins!

Mamo reads the 1st card though there was no question, it’s from a mother writing about his 6-yr old son who loves Haikyuu, particularly Atsumu. Mamo is glad and thinks that people of different ages really do watch Haikyuu. Kabu adds that it would be nice if this can actually inspire someone in the future to play volleyball.

Mamo: Yeah, like hearing someone say that because of Haikyuu they became a setter, or a professional player.

2nd card - Do you have anything that’s like Kita-san’s concept of “Repetitive, Methodical, Thorough”?

Kabu answers that this applies to his work as a stage actor where they keep doing the same things properly everyday for months.

New year’s Play-offs

The next games that followed were more related to New Year but less of Haikyuu so I won’t be reporting them in detail too (also because it’s probably only funny if you get to watch them playing the game). The seiyuus were divided into two: Team Atsumu with Mamo, Zakki, Ayu, and Team Tobio with Kaito, Kabu, and NojiKen.

Game 1 - Guess the Situation of the First Dream: Sleep Talk Nuance Quiz

Mechanics: One of the members will sleep talk using a random line from the anime. There are four situations given where the line can possibly be used, and out of the four the other members will guess what kind of dream their teammate had. 

This game was played 4 times, with 2 turns for each team. Both teams won once.

Game 2 - Two-attack First Drawing

Mechanics: One member has to guess the word that his two other teammates will draw together. The challenge is that they can only draw using one pen stroke or without lifting their pen.

Each team only got one turn, and both didn’t get the correct answer.

With the two teams ending up in a tie, they were both declared winners and the prize is... Kita House’s Ozouni! A Hyogo-style ozouni was prepared for them. NojiKen led the serving of the food.

NojiKen: You have to do cooking properly, too. (“Oryouri mo, chanto yannen”)

The event now comes to a close. The seiyuus say their

last message to the fans.

Zakki: I hope it was made clear that this is how fun the atmosphere is during recordings. I really love Inarizaki and the Haikyuu team. I will continue to hope that there will be more chances to spend time with everyone again. Please continue supporting Haikyuu from now on too!

NojiKen: Due to the pandemic situation, voice recordings were taken separately, but still this kind of teamwork was born. During these hard times, please watch/rewatch Haikyuu a lot of times and exercise your hearts and mind. Thank you!

Kabu: I have been invited to participate in a lot of Haikyuu events since last year and then for the first time these 4 Inarizaki members have gathered, and I really had a good time. I hope you all enjoyed it too. Looking forward to your support.

Mamo: I’m really glad that I can experience youth again at my age through Haikyuu. With the current situation where the norm is no longer the usual, I’m really happy that we were able to finish and present this Inarizaki match to you, thanks to the efforts of all the staff who have carefully considered how we can work best while taking the necessary health precautions. From here on too, we will continue to bring entertainment to the fans like usual, and I’m hoping that we can work again and act for the future stories too of Haikyuu.

Kaito: Did you have fun watching, everyone?

*answers himself acting as a viewer* Yes! We had fun! Thank you!

Thank you for all your comments! It’s been more than a year since we started working for Haikyuu To the Top and despite all the difficulties brought about by outside influences (particularly the pandemic), I’m really happy that we are here now and were able to say, “That was fun!” with everyone. Let’s keep the flame burning for Haikyuu!

Ayu: As what everyone has also mentioned, the current situation has made me realize more the value of each and every episode we created. Precisely because the normal everyday things have ceased to become normal, being part of a work that can touch people’s hearts when they watch it and make them appreciate volleyball more, makes me feel really proud. I’m really grateful to the staff. Hinata and everyone’s path will still continue from now on and I really hope we can continue to work with this team until the end.

After their goodbyes, NojiKen was tasked to lead the last greeting as the captain of Inarizaki, which is the main in this event.

NojiKen: Thank you everyone for watching us ‘til the end. Thank you!

All together: Thank you!!!! *cute bye bye waves*

Photos/Posts from Official Accounts

And that’s it!! It was a fun fun fun 2.5 hrs event! I’m really glad that despite the current pandemic situation we can still have seiyuu events like this.

I just want to say that I’ve been watching Haikyuu all these years, but unexpectedly, the Inarizaki match is the moment I felt that I got hooked on Haikyuu *cries*

I just really really LOVE Kita-san soooo much, and the Miya twins T.T !!!!

I’m no longer active on tumblr nowadays, so may follow me on twitter instead @harukaja15

Though for long reports like this, tumblr is really perfect :)

For similar Japan-based original posts, you may follow me or track the #my original content tag on my blog.

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

i’m an idiot. i screw everything up.

Titans 3.03

still here, still doing this. these reviews take a fair bit of time that i cobble together across days (like, ten minute chunks during breaks, etc) and i tend to struggle to keep up with episodes as they come out. this means that by the time i’m done with one, most of my stuff is jossed (or geoffed in this case? idk) or outdated and the post sinks like a stone into oblivion. so! i’m going to change things up a bit with this one and write as i see the episode rather than collecting my thoughts later. in my experience with spn, that was a faster way to get them done. 

anyway. let’s see how it goes! *shadowboxes*

SPOILERS ahead.

1. an auspicious start with some grave-digging!

digging up a grave and breaking open a coffin is some serious, back-breaking work--that dick did it on his own, likely straight after that fight with red hood, is a testament to the sheer intensity, stamina and discipline that he’s capable of. like, we like to joke about dick cooking cauliflower crust pizzas and making gar and rachel spar and memorise sun tzu--and despair at the obvious consequences of some of bruce’s parenting skills--but imagine crime-fighting almost daily without any superpowers, performing some of the most intense parkour in bulky, uncomfortable armour, doing detective work, pushing through every last barrier of exhaustion and then getting up to repeat it all over again the next day. dick probably thought he was going extra-easy on rachel and gar.

1.5. then again, dick probably had a hundred different easier ways to confirm whether jason was still buried or not, from using equipment to merely asking connor to have a quick look with his x-ray vision. but, no, he’s too caught up in confusion and terror, not really having come to terms with jason’s death in the first place, leave alone the possibility that he could be alive after all. he can’t possibly let the others know until he’s confirmed it himself, even if it means digging all through the night until his arms are jelly, thinking over and over again about jason’s eyes, jason’s voice, from behind that red mask. 

... besides, dick has good reason to believe that he could’ve been hallucinating. wouldn’t be his first psychotic episode, after all.

that just imbues this sweaty, desperate, fingers-scrabbling-in-gravedirt scene with that much more poignancy, and a fair bit of bone-chilling terror. dick is horrified to realise that jason’s grave is empty, but a part of him is also probably relieved.

1.75 (... also it’s curious that we’re never shown any of the team asking to see jason’s grave after they come to wayne manor. i guess it’s because the writers--and the audience--know that jason is actually alive, but these people don’t know that. i don’t know if it’s sad or infuriating or both that they’re barely shown mourning him.)

2. oh GOD the sheer TENSION in kory saying, “i don’t want to say it, but--” and dick quickly interrupting, “it was jason. i saw him,” and hank giving him this loaded sidelong glance. i love how dick’s precarious mental health from last season is still this big elephant in the room but at least nobody’s blowing up in his face and questioning his every decision yet

2.25. i love the relative matter-of-factness with which they’re discussing a possible resurrection. and, of course, ra’s al ghul is brought up and quickly dismissed

(still wouldn’t put it past this show to bring him up at the very last second as the real real mastermind)

2.5. “maybe they can bring donna back” OH KORY

2.75. didn’t they have this same conversation about killing/not killing rose last season? man, the og titans make me tired.

and i don’t know if it’s just hank, but there’s a definite in-group/out-group vibe going on with the og titans, where they’re not only ready to consider killing anybody who threatens the group but makes it difficult for new people to fit in. donna and kory got along well with each other, but the dynamics between hank/donna/dawn and gar/rachel/rose were somewhat strained, and with jason, they were really fucking terrible. it makes sense when you think about how the titans started and how they broke up the first time--both were fairly disruptive events, i’d imagine, in that they probably got together to break away from their mentors and strike out on their own, and when they split up, it was the first time they felt directly responsible for the loss of an innocent life.

but the titans that dick is leading now is explicitly about mentoring a young generation of heroes, about second chances and found family. dick definitely wants to reach out to him first, and i have a feeling he’s going to be forced to make some sort of terrible Choice later on in this episode. 

2.8. (honestly tho, this also seems like hank struggling with his own guilt re: jason; if red hood is not the kid that he failed, it’d be easier to fight him.)

3.

HANK NO

4. honestly this season is already ticking off so many things on my wishlist, but i really wish dick would sit down with the newer members of his team and trust them with important information the same time that he’s telling them to the other members. gar searching for help and reassurance from a man who just dumped all of his responsibilities on his son overnight and went AWOL is a sad sight

4.25. has it only been just 48 hours????? wow! jason’s definitely been planning the red hood gig for a long time now...

5. ezekiel, my man! shady looking guy gets into your cab without a destination in mind... no problem, get right in! said guy gets a call to go to the observatory when he’s barely even looked out of the window so far at gotham... yep, a damn tourist! i want more ezekiel in this show.

5.25. (of course jason has upturned table lamps all along the floor... we have to *gritted teeth* balance the TEAL with the ORANGE don’t we?)

5.5. “dick’s a fucking psycho--he could be following you right now.” hank... has no objection to that lol

5.25. hank, hank... this is bad-decision-palooza. i can’t imagine that hank actually thought that jason was reaching out to him for help, given that the last time hank and jason had any substantial interaction hank had been one of the people accusing jason of sabotaging the team. but for him to go seek out jason and go along with his demands without any backup, weapons or equipment? not the best idea he’s ever come up with.

(add to that getting into the swimming pool of a condemned gym... oh yuck.)

((yes, i have enough self-restraint to not cap his ass.))

(((cap his ass! HA!)))

5.5. do you think jason has bugs/monitoring equipment planted in wayne manor to monitor the titans, or remote access to the cave’s systems? wouldn’t put it past him.

6. oh man, hank came back before dick and the others could meet ezekiel! this is TRAGIC

6.25. i mean, it’s plot-convenient that connor was able to give so much information about the bomb from just looking at it once, but i also like to think it’s the luthor-side of him coming to the fore. it also reminds me of that (in)famous scene from the new52 run of Nightwing comics, where a bomb was attached to nightwing’s heart and luthor disabled it by killing nightwing (temporarily). it’s a neat little callback. 

6.55. “where i come from, you go after family? there’s no mercy.” BUT THAT’S THE PROBLEM ISN’T IT

6.75. i mean, dick’s making sense: this is a game, and they need to get it off playing out on jason’s terms. but having a member of his team in his face, doubting his reasoning and every decision? a very familiar sight. 

6.8. krypto with an a+ sense of humour? also a very familiar sight.

7. wayne enterprises... providing the military with... bombs that can be implanted in humans? a BIIIIG yikes. i guess it’s not too many steps above developing clandestine intra-dermal trackers and implanting them in your own sons, and bruce probably thought they could be used as part of negotiation tactics, but still... YIKES.

7.5. on the other hand, conner being asked to build a deactivation advice seems part of a growth arc that started from last season... he knows so much, but part of growing is learning, and part of learning is using what you know to create something new.

8. oh man, my heart broke at hank going “i’m an idiot... i screw everything up.” like. for him to go like this, after being brought down to such a low last season? struggling with pain and addiction and his relationship with the love of his life? it’s so sad.

9. oh, oh, oh! ronnie from schitt’s creek! i love her!

9.5. “one of jason’s minions” took his body out of the morgue... how deliciously morbid that he planned out his own death like this!

10. TALK TO HANK, DICK

honestly, tho, i’m quite impressed with dick here. trying to think beyond just the most alarming part of the crisis at hand, keeping his cool, delegating tasks, frequently touching base with different members of his team... well done. 

10.25.... whoops, spoke too soon. i’m genuinely confused here, tho. where did the van full of gold bars come from? why did they stop there and get out? how did dawn even know about this?

on the other hand, it’s cool to know dove has bulletproof feathers!

10.5. eh... curran walters isn’t really selling red hood’s menace to me so far. but then again, if titans version of red hood is vulnerable-kid-with-father-issues-trying-to-overcompensate, then yeah! yeah, it makes sense. 

11. “when bats have sex, they gotta have something to hang from” OH GOD HANK

... because i want smiley!gar on my blog :)

11.5. awww. i feel sorry for hank but NONE of these fuckers deserve gar except maybe kory

12. ohhh FUCK! look at jason being exactly one step ahead of the titans at every turn. nice.

no really, i love the building stakes and the building mystery - i feel like the deathstroke arc from last season should’ve been more like this. the flashbacks about jericho and rose came too late and after too much build up, which resulted in a very underwhelming and confusing season throughline.

13. HANK AND DIIIIIICCCKKK

“you’re doing your best by me. always have.” WAILING HERE

it also kills me to think that hank thinks that his imminent death is because of his failure to keep the team together (when he was clearly struggling with his own issues and was spiralling towards rock-bottom) and his fear that he will once again be the cause of the team falling apart. 

also:

14. “i grew up... you can, too. you just have to face your fear.”

yep, got scarecrow’s grubby little fingerprints aaaaalllll over this. 

14.25. nightwing’s got specialised batarangs! yay! (somehow i can’t see this universe’s dick calling them “wingdings”)

15. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

oh man, that was devastating. well done, show. fuck, well done, jason.

this is going to bring up all sorts of “if onlys” for the team. i can’t wait for some fucking aftermath. 

[itsclydebitches]

Ah I so wanna play Hades, it looks so pretty. dont have a switch :(( how is it? it looks fun lol

It's also on PC and Mac! I have a switch, but I play PC — I've always been more comfortable with mouse and keyboard.

I love the game though. I've put about 230 hours into my first save and I'm still working to max everything out. (For those of you who play: 32 heat still remains elusive to me 😅) The story, characters, combat mechanics, gameplay loop, roguelike elements... it really is a perfect storm for me. Hours in and I still love running through the beautifully designed areas, still love combining different boons to try out new strategies, I still talk to all the characters despite being long past getting new dialogue, and it's a testament to the voice acting that I'm still eager to listen too. It's a game that I got so into finishing and now that I've "finished" it I'm still happy to do runs just for the enjoyment of it (plus amassing various currencies to, as said, max everything out).

I've got one friend who was excited for the game, only to realize she's not a fan of the subgenre:

"When do I get to a save point?"

"It saves each time you enter a new room. Don't worry, you're good."

"No, I mean I already killed this boss. Why am I fighting her again? Why do I keep going back to the beginning when I die?"

"That's the point. You're looking to get your character strong enough and yourself skilled enough that you can do the whole run in one try."

"...what."

So yeah, that was a shock lol. BUT the potential downsides of that preference aside, I can't recommend the game enough :D

[quentinbecks]

6, 11, 16, 24!! <3

Thank you, Trin! These were some really good questions! 💖

6) How (if at all) does your character change over the course of their story?

Charlie will definitely be changing a lot over the course of her story. When we first meet her she’s a scared young woman who has just accidentally killed one of Jacob’s hunters. She’ll become a bit more unhinged over time due to social isolation, some manipulation, and just the side effects of being John’s partner lol. Charlie will also be getting a bit of power in the project by the time the reaping rolls around and while I don’t think most of her empathy is going to just go away, even if it’s two years after joining the cult, I do plan on having her lash out because girl is a bit petty and vindictive.

11) How patient is your character? What will they tolerate in others? What won't they tolerate?

Charlie has more patience than she gives herself credit for, but I still wouldn’t say it’s that high. She can tolerate others better than you would think. The fact that she can deal with everything the Seeds throw at her is a true testament to that. She’ll tolerate the mind games, all of the cryptic underlying meanings to everything they say, and all the creepiness that surrounds them. But, just like Hannibal, she will not tolerate rudeness. But unlike Hannibal, she won’t eat you. She’ll just try to throw hands with you instead.

16) What is your character's greatest strength? Their fatal flaw?

Despite not being a nice girl, she is generally really empathic. Charlie’s empathy helps her understand the people she loves on both sides and why/what they’re fighting for. It’s why she wants to have her cake and eat it too, so to speak. But she can’t.

Wanting to play both sides should be her fatal flaw, but actually it’s the fact that she completely underestimates people all. the. time. Charlie thought John wouldn’t be that big of a threat compared to Jacob because she assumed he only gave out tattoos and wasn’t a murderer like his brother. It’s one of the first of her big mistakes.

24) What was your motivation behind making this character? What sort of story did you want to tell?

I made Charlie because there weren’t many non-dep OCs and I really wanted to read a story with one. Unfortunately, I had to make my own lmao. But, I do love her and the fact that creating Charlie helped revive my love of writing.

I wanted to tell a horror story lol. A story about a vulnerable woman getting trapped in a cult and becoming a whole other person because of it’s influence. I love corruption arcs and “unhappy happy endings” and that’s basically the route I’m going with Stillness in Woe. It’s for sure not a normal romance route, but for me that’s much more fun to write.

[nelllraiser]

the littlest pet swap | darwin & nell

TIMING: during the waking world potw (aka wonky magic times). LOCATION: the street outside darwin’s apartment + darwin’s apartment. PARTIES: @asranism & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: a summoning gone wrong provides ample confusion for both darwin and nell, but mostly a lot of yelling in the street.

The sun had long slipped below the horizon as Nell opened the gate to one of the swankiest dog parks in town, though her slight form wasn’t accompanied by a canine of any sort. In fact, she looked entirely alone, a singled out figure in the low light of the street lamps while she opened the chain link gate of the park, satisfied with the emptiness of the enclosure. On nights like tonight she liked to make her way here, far after any other owners and dogs had abandoned the park so that her own ‘dogs’ could have as much fun as they liked without her needing to fear of the ruckus they might make should anyone catch sight of three hellhounds playing a game of fire tag, maws alight with flame as they chased after one another and playfully singed at each others fur. Raising her thumb to her teeth, she bit it until it bled, reopening a scab on it that had yet to heal from the last summoning of the hellhounds she’d performed. In a quick motion, she swiped the offering over the tattooed summoning sigil on her arm, a piece of magic she’d designed as a specific shortcut that would bring forth the demons she’d befriended some years ago. Except as the magic swelled and then ebbed, it wasn’t three hellhounds that stood before her but...something much smaller than she’d been expecting and- was it wearing a tuxedo? “Ah- hello,” Nell spoke to the mysterious demon with bewilderment, wondering where the hell her dogs were. “You’re not who I was expecting.” Had the unpredictability of her magic bled into this as well? 

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Nell, a hellhound materialized in the middle of a strange and unfamiliar kitchen, and the young demon known to the witch as ‘Scrappy’ instantly began to growl at anything that dared to move within his vicinity. And perhaps the most concerning thing within his vicinity was a man foreign to him. Instinct was quick to take hold as his hackles rose, and it only took a small second before he was advancing on the man, a loud and threatening bark showing razor-sharp teeth as he wordlessly demanded to know what it was the interloper had done with his mistress. 

Afternoon naps have never been a thing for Darwin Asrani, formerly the heir to the Asrani family business of subjugating demons for a quick buck, but things change, they always do, with his own escape and self-imposed exile from Asrani family dinners a testament of how the outgoing but sarcastic charmer isn't afraid to welcome change. Oh, how that statement is going to bite him in the ass in a few seconds. That, and something else. While Darwin was fast asleep, knocked out but comfortably so, deep in a dream of a better present where he wasn't running around, going after his family's mistakes, correcting them like he was responsible for their terrible choices in life, which he clearly wasn't, his tiny demon butler Bertrand was in the kitchen preparing its master his evening alcohol. Bertrand is of course Darwin's most loyal summon, a strange little demon who had a thing for wearing butler clothes, which in this context is a pretty charming tuxedo, and for some strange reason taking care of its summoner like the “Alfred” to Darwin's less gloomy and more fabulous Batman. Unfortunately for the two of them, that evening alcohol would not come to be, as something else stirred nearby, and soon Bertrand disappeared from where he stood, summoned elsewhere, while in his place a more terrifying and less clothed demonic entity stood growling at everything and anything.

"Bertrand, where the hell is my morning cock..." Darwin groggily walked into the kitchen, having finally awoken, in a sour mood after his fantasy was revealed to be nothing more than just that, a fantasy, not the actual reality of his own making. If he didn't have his sense of morality, the disgusting piece of him he liked to hide behind drapings of sarcasm and veils of flirting, he would have remained with his family, making a quick buck at the expense of other sentient creatures. It would have been an easy life, yet even as he made his way to where Bertrand should have been, he could not fully accept that option. Demons are scary, sure, and they are capable of damning things. But demons still have their own will. For another to bend that will to their own desires... Darwin could never accept that. Although, he would have considered the option as he gulped at the sight of not Bertrand in his kitchen, no, but a hellhound that looked like it didn't want to be there. At least they had something in common. "...tail?"

Everything happened so fast. Before Darwin could summon his own senses to return to him, his mind to conjure a plan or strategy of defensive measures, the hostile creature was upon him, chasing him out of his own apartment and into the cold dark night. Darwin could do nothing else but run, screaming, as the thought of his bits and pieces getting bitten to shreds was not something he wanted to come to pass. Fortunately for him, as the chase continued into the nearby dog park, he found Bertrand standing with lovesick eyes directed towards another, a woman with textbook attractiveness. Another spellcaster? "Bertrand! Quickly, rein in this monstrosity after me! I'm not wearing anything under my robe!"

“Hello?” Nell repeated to the newly appeared demon as it simply stood there, apparently transfixed on the young woman before him. Maybe he was in shock? She’d witnessed a few demons who experienced cases of confusion after being unexpectedly Summoned. After all, it was certainly jarring to be one place one moment and somewhere entirely else in the next. “Sorry- I didn’t actually mean to summon you here. Were you doing something important? I can send you back to wherever you needed to-” 

Her sentence was cut short as a panicked sound cut through the air, and it took the witch a long second to make sense of the words. Bertrand? Who the hell was Bertrand? And what monstrosity was the guy speaking of? “Oh shit,” Nell uttered as Scrappy tore after the man and his delicately robed state, flames licking the corner of the hellhound’s mouth as he barked and sprinted in hot pursuit. In an instant, Nell was tearing after the hellhound’s victim and the dog in question, her strides fast as she left the unfamiliar demon behind. “Scrappy! Scrappy, don’t! It’s okay!” The poor pup was no doubt startled, having shown up in a stranger’s presence with no familiar face in sight. “Scrappy come back! I’m right here! I’ve got fingers!” she yelled as she continued to run, referencing the emergency supply of human fingers she kept as treats for her assorted demonic creatures in her pocket. The hellhound seemed to hesitate for a split second, his pursuit of the man slowing at the mention of food. As a precaution, he tried to herd the man into a corner, gnashing his teeth and growling all the way as he made his attempts.

Well, Bertrand certainly took his time. Even though Darwin was sure that he emphasized his immediate concerns regarding his endangered bits and pieces, the supposedly loyal demonic butler seemed to wait a minute or more before dashing to its master’s safety. They were going to have a talk about that later, much later, when Darwin was once again certain that his own bits and pieces were 100% safe. Bertrand is going to have a lot of explaining to do, though technically it’ll probably only take a mere mention before they both forget about it. It wasn’t like Darwin actually required a butler, and Bertrand, in its defense, was doing the whole schtick out of love and nothing else. It was a strange relationship but it was the only one Darwin was comfortable in trusting.

“Bertraaaaaand!” Darwin yelled again, as quietly as he could, which was a bit of a hilarious contradiction, even as the tiny demon ran to his aid. The other human was already doing her best to keep the hellhound away from Darwin’s precious jewels, which made him think that it was most likely her own Bertrand. “Is this your...pet?” Darwin immediately hated that word. Pet. Demons weren’t meant to be pets. They were meant to be respected as the intellectual and ancient beings that they were and— Oh, my god, it’s about to burn my bits and pieces! 

“I’m not sure what happened, but I found your Scrappy instead of my Bertrand in my current place of residence.” He gulped, backed into a corner, and heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Bertrand finally making its way to his defense from the corner of his eyes. “Bertrand! Oh, dear god (ironic, he knows), I’m glad you’re safe! What happened? Why are you out here? Who’s that with you? And for the love of all that’s good and sexy, can YOU please not feed your Scrappy my fingers?! I need them...for stuff.” Darwin fired the series of questions in quick succession, still barely awake to actually make a coherent plan of defense, having just woken up from his afternoon nap, though it was already late at night, and violently at that.

Bertrand just stood there itself, a little panicked, shifting its gaze from Darwin to Nell and then to the hellhound, unsure of what to do. On one hand, Bertrand needed to save Darwin. On the other, it wasn’t quite sure if Nell would appreciate if it tried to fight Scrappy. Besides, Bertrand still had hope in his tiny demon heart that the other human could rein in their own friend. The last thing it wanted was to start another demon-on-demon violence. That was certainly not part of their current deal.

“Scrappy!” Nell continued on with her authoritative tone when it came to making the hellhound stand down. “Scrappy, it’s alright, really.” Much of this particular hellhound’s aggression was actually caused by anxiety and fear, and a need to appear as fierce as possible in the face of a potential threat. The demonic dog finally seemed to pause its attack, though his teeth were still bared, not quite ready to let Darwin forget he was a threat. “Scrappy is…” Nell hesitated with an answer to Darwin’s question, also disliking the title of ‘pet’ when it came to the creatures she looked after. If it came to it, she’d use the word ‘pet’ as a cover, not needing normal humans asking strange questions about the less than usual animals that surrounded her. But as the witch’s gaze flickered from the other, smaller demon, and the man in front of her calling him ‘Bertrand’ with a voice that betrayed familiarity, it wasn’t hard to guess that she was being faced with another spellcaster. “I take care of him, and he helps take care of me when I ask him to,” she said truthfully, rolling up a sleeve to show the summoning tattoo that she’d gotten for the hellhounds, making it easier to Summon them at the drop of a hat. It was inked over the extreme scarring of her arms, the skin of them appearing mottled like a patchwork of flesh. 

“And this is Bertrand?” Nell asked curiously, giving the little demon another friendly look. “Does he...speak? I tried talking to him before you ran out here, but he didn’t seem to have much to say.” With a gentle eyeroll, Nell crossed her arms over her chest before digging into her pocket. Scrappy, sensing a treat nearby, finally sat calmly at her feet. “I’m not gonna feed him your fingers. And I’m Nell, who are you? Do you always yell about your bits in the streets?” she decided to jibe playfully. But she was uncertain if the lightness would last. If this man was, indeed, another spellcaster— there was no guarantee he wouldn’t have heard news about the three sisters banned from their coven for necromancy and demon summoning, Nell being one of those three. Witch society was generally less than forgiving when it came to raising the dead, but perhaps he hadn’t heard, or perhaps she’d dodged that conversation by not providing her full name. Finally, she leaned forward to offer Scrappy a very human finger, and the dog eagerly gobbled the treat before sitting properly once again.

Darwin looked her over as she explained herself, mostly just her relationship with the hellhound Scrappy, as he wrapped his robe tighter around him in an attempt to stay warm out in the cold embrace of the night. He was now feeling a bit calmer with Bertrand finally standing beside him while the woman reined in her own companion. It didn't take long to dawn on Darwin how familiar the other spellcaster's relationship with Scrappy seemed with his own with Bertrand. Although Bertrand took a liking to acting and looking like the former Asrani family heir's butler, Darwin himself never really saw their relationship as master and familiar. Bertrand took care of him, even saved his life at one point, and for that, he will forever be grateful. It was most likely that very reason why he could not take to the demon as lesser than himself. Darwin owed Bertrand more than he'll ever care to admit, if only attempt to show through quieter actions. Like sharing pizza and interacting with him like he would any other. To be honest, Darwin probably treated Bertrand better than he did most humans. Without Bertrand, there would be no Darwin to this day.

He instinctively raised an eyebrow when the woman showed him her tattoo, dark brown eyes immediately trying to make sense of the handiwork as if there would be something more hidden beneath what they could see. Darwin thought of showing her his own tattoo but wasn't quite sure if that would be a good idea. The placement was, after all, somewhere more intimate and they were currently outside. Although he was certain that appearing to expose himself to another would be less offensive than having demonic entities prancing around in public, that didn't make him any less wary about that scenario. Thankfully, the woman's curiosity saved him, like the school bell to his hapless problematic student. "Yes, this handsome fellow's name is Bertrand." He turned to the tiny demon with a smile, both born of pride and affection. "Bertrand's my most loyal friend, though he often speaks only through the mind, which I suppose he reserves with known friends, those whose names and consent have been shared with him."

Bertrand himself turned to Darwin, and when their eyes met, nodded with a smile on his face. That moment was quickly ruined when Nell mentioned him yelling about his bits in the streets. While Bertrand was quick to hide his amusement, Darwin feigned a cough as he tried to hide his bits and pieces within his robe, which was barely doing a great job. "Well, you would, too, if you had just awoken from your drunken stupor, only to find an aggressive hellhound in your kitchen instead of your most trusted friend, and then get chased by that same hellhound into the night..." It was certainly an odd choice to summon a hellhound outside, but Darwin was yet to become familiar with this strange place, with its strange love for mimes and stranger disappearances, so who was he to know what was odd and what wasn't in White Crest? One thing he knew for certain, however, was that his bits and pieces were getting cold. "...I am Darwin, and I don't know about you, Nell, but I'd like to keep my bits and pieces warm. My place is, well, you probably already know. Feel free to follow me inside. I rarely have any company, so it might be a little too gloomy, but I just woke up, and I will most likely be up for a few more hours, so feel free to join me and my gloomy company where it'll at least be warm and our friends safe from..." He looked around them, an eyebrow raised, both emphasizing his point and making sure no one was eavesdropping on them. "...curious eyes."

With a nod to her and another to Bertrand, Darwin began to walk away, back inside his place. Bertrand himself waited on Nell and Scrappy with a wide smile, exactly like a butler waiting to usher in his master's guests. The sheer size of that grin would reveal to anyone how much Bertrand wanted to have guests and how few they ever got any. Of course, with a demonic butler and a host that had just arrived in town, the strange pairing wouldn't find it easy to have guests. This was a strange new town for them, and they were a strange new addition to the rest of the town. Besides, Darwin wasn't here to make new friends, but he was at least certain that the other spellcaster would not be his quarry. Perhaps, she would even be of great help to him and his cause.  

He had to know what the tattoo was based on his reaction as well as what it meant she was, and Nell wasted no time in pressing the matter of his own identity. “So you’re a spellcaster then, right?” There was a flicker of tentative hope in her words as she asked them, eager to meet another magic user that wasn’t a part of the coven she’d been banished from. Of course, there was no guarantee that news of her and her sisters' excommunication hadn’t reached other corners of witch society, along with the magic they’d done. Obviously demons most likely wouldn’t be a problem with this man, seeing as he had one accompanying him as well, but necromancy was a whole other can of worms, and one that was also heavily feared and frowned upon within magical circles. Not to mention there was the fact that Nell often utilized blood magic, another practice that was most often met with harsh judgement and heavy reservations when others heard she used it. For the moment being, she wouldn’t mention it.

Instead, she decided to say hello to Betrand once more now that she knew his name. “Hello, Bertrand,” she offered a proper greeting with a smile and small nod of her head. “It’s nice to actually meet you. And sorry for summoning you unexpectedly,” she apologized again, knowing it must have been confusing to find himself somewhere new and unexplained.” It was interesting that he preferred to speak mentally, and though Nell was very much wanting to speak with the little guy, she wasn’t quite so sure how she felt about letting him into her mind just yet. With her general desire to keep the inner-workings of her head private, and the consistent mind breaches she was courtesy of Ma’al’s demon cult...she had little desire to forfeit the scarce safety she had in her mind at the moment. But maybe the future would grant her the pleasure of having conversation with Bertrand, one way or another. “And hello Darwin,” she offered with another wry grin.

“I don’t know,” Nell began, once again adopting her teasing tone. “I think I’d be pretty excited to find a hellhound in my kitchen. A gift, really. Probably not running around like a madman while yelling about my bits and pieces and then still talking about them once everything had calmed down.” There was a mischievous sparkle in her eye that told of the levity in her words, no actual intent to harm behind them. She didn’t hesitate to follow behind him as he led the way into his dwellings, tilting her head to the side as she took in the practicality of the place. “How long have you lived here?” she questioned, curious as to how she’d missed another spellcaster that worked with demons. After all, they weren’t exactly common. Nell wasn’t entirely sure how to react to Bertrand acting as butler, feeling a little out of place as the demon flitted about. It felt...strange to use a demon as someone to wait on you, but for all appearances it looked as if the demon was enjoying his job, possibly even thriving as he did his work. If Bertrand liked what he did, who was she to question it? 

"Hmm?" The question didn't really surprise Darwin, as it would be pretty obvious to both of them that they shared at least an inkling of what the other was. Both of them had their respective demonic "partners", for a lack of a better term, and he just assumed that she, with that tattoo, was like him, if not better. She looked better, was better, because at the very least, she didn't just wake up, only to run away from a hellhound in just her robe. Speaking of robes, he wrapped his own tighter against himself, wary that his bits and pieces would be unintentionally exposed. He wasn't entirely into her, and all women for that matter, but it was still a matter of maintaining decency, the strange man in only a robe thought. "Just like you. Always good to find common ground with someone new..."

Bertrand simply smiled at Nell with an innocent, friendly sort of grin, the kind no one who wasn't well-versed with demons and their ilk would expect from such a creature. Yet so much would catch people by surprise, just by the fact alone that demons were as complex as humans, perhaps even more so. They were an ancient race, after all, and most knowledge about them barely scratched the surface. Type-casting didn't help. Darwin himself couldn't help but smile at her remark, her teasing, finding it a welcomed respite from the loneliness of having little to no other consistent human interaction, from Bertrand always saying yes and yes only to everything and anything. "That's fair. I did grow up with a hellhound. Sally. She was nice." Again, he tightened his robes against his skin. "Not long. We've just moved here." He answered without look back to her, already making his way to the makeshift bar in his living room. Bertrand, like the good and trustworthy self-appointed butler that they were, waited for Nell to get in before following after her and closing the door behind them.

Darwin was already preparing himself a drink when Bertrand appeared completely appalled at the vision of their master doing something for himself, while they were around. The demon wrangler, however, found their instinctive reaction as well as the horrified look on their tiny demon face somewhat amusing, waving Bertrand back to let them know he's fine with doing it himself. He pretty much didn't need Bertrand to wait on him every damn time but it was the demon's strange wish, a really confusing hobby that Darwin himself has yet to fully understand. He owed him his life, though, so he could never deny Bertrand whatever they wanted. Finally settled on a cocktail, a concoction of two different rums, a cherry brandy, a diet Coke, and Maraschino cherries, Darwin turned to Nell from behind the counter, grinning from ear to ear as he took a sip of his glass and offered her her own. "Bertrand doesn't drink." He raised an eyebrow, turning to the demon who grinned back, before continuing with a classic gender-based assumption that he didn’t wholly believe but thought was a pretty decent jumping point. "Tell me about yourself and your...coven. You're a witch, aren't you?" 

As Darwin confirmed the fact that he had magical abilities, Nell’s grin grew wider and more genuine, once again filled with hope at the prospect of having found a new spellcaster to take into her life. She had friends, of course. People she loved. And her sisters still knew what it was to wield magic. But to have a friend that was a spellcaster in her life again? That was something she’d missed more than she’d realized. Nell knew she was getting ahead of herself. After all, they’d barely even made one another’s acquaintance, but she couldn’t help the spark of hope that had lighted in her soul, nearly desperate to find someone like her that wouldn’t hate her. Just as quickly as the hope had blossomed, she watched it with a careful eye, trying to dampen it in the next moment as she reminded herself that she still didn’t know if he’d recognize her full name should she ever give, along with the ‘crimes’ attached to it. Still...she couldn’t help the excitement in her voice as she echoed, “Just like me. A Summoner and everything! Do you mostly do Summoning, then?” she asked, already burning with questions. 

Nell didn’t hesitate to return Betrand’s smile, and at the mention of a hellhound Scrappy whined from his place at Nell’s feet where he’d finally settled. To have a demon as part of the family in a household? Her mother and coven would have balked at the idea. “Really? All of your family likes demons, then?” It was a novel idea, and a reality she’d never thought to imagine based off most casters’ reactions to demons. “Oh- well, welcome to White Crest,” Nell offered with half the enthusiasm she’d had when asking about the hellhound. “You’ll find it’s...a very unique place the longer you’re here. And pretty fucking dangerous so just- watch you back, I guess.” It was only fair to warn the man what he was getting into. 

The witch accepted the drink with a quick, “Thank you” before taking a sip, and then promptly popping one of the cherries into her mouth. “Good for Bertrand,” Nell said with a chuckle. “Very responsible of him.” But the mention of a coven was quick to tense her shoulders along with her mouth. She should have expected it. How many times had she been told that a witch without a coven was barely anything at all? So of course another spellcaster would ask where her’s was. Nell opted to answer the simpler of the two questions first. “That’s me- a witch.” Her former excitement had waned, already dreading where this conversation might go. “And you’re…? Well- what do you call yourself?” Witch was generally thought of as a woman’s word in pop and normie culture, but she’d met plenty of men who went by the title as well. Now for the rest of her answer. “I don’t have a coven.” Anymore. She carefully opted to leave off the end of that reply, unwilling to ostracize herself so quickly. “There’s one in town, though. Mostly fire elementals.” It was her own former coven, and the very same one her mother had banished her from. “What about you? What about your coven?” Maybe she could turn the rides away from herself into his direction instead.

"Yeah, sure, mostly Summoning..." Darwin offered her a warm smile and a wink before taking another sip of his drink. Although he didn't feel like there was something about her that made her a little difficult trust, something suspicious, anything suspicious, the well-traveled demon wrangler had learned from his past experiences to keep unnecessary additional information from newly made acquaintances. At least at this point, he believed it was the right thing to do. "You could say that. We're all in the...business." He unintentionally turned to Bertrand, as if apologizing for the terms he used. Darwin had never wanted to be associated with the Asrani family name again, their savage and brutal business of wrangling demons and twisting them mentally to suit their financial needs, but he had yet to share who they were truly by name and he could still, in his head, pretend that he was from a better version of his own family. 

The momentary loss in thought, however, not to mention the more serious expression that possessed his face, might have hinted to the girl that there was more to his story, bits and pieces he'd rather not share for now, but he immediately tried to ensure to keep the conversation moving elsewhere. If it could even be a suitable distraction. "Thank you. So far, it's been, as you say, unique. I'll keep that in mind, though." At the sound of their name, Bertrand grinned before offering Darwin a quick bow and disappearing into the shadows. Truth be told, their makeshift master had no idea where they disappeared to whenever they were out of his sight, but Darwin would trust Bertrand with his life, as Bertrand themselves had been the only one responsible for extending it. 

"I fancy myself a demon wrangler. I seek out the more dangerous demons let loose by careless mages, intentionally or otherwise, rounding them up and settling them safely back home, wherever they believe that is." Throughout his explanation, his dark brown eyes maneuvered themselves onto the hellhound with her. Scrappy, wasn't it? The creature didn't seem like it was brought here against its will. In fact, it actually looked like it was enjoying the woman's company. Darwin grinned at that thought. "Well, isn't that another thing we have in common?" Darwin gave her a nod and ushered her towards the living room, sitting at the sofa, the unexpectedly lavish couch that took the middle of the room as its own. With another sip, he gestured for her to sit with him before continuing. "I'm not much of a coven kind of guy. I find them...stifling at times, suffocating even. I highly value my independence, though..." He gestured around himself, around them, emphasizing the loneliness of his place. "...it'd be nice to have some company every once in a while." 

For a moment or two, as their eyes met, Darwin considered poking around in Nell's head, wondering if she was hiding certain truths that he needed to know, if he should just take them for herself. It could be easy. She already had a drink in her hands. But then he got bored of pretending he was his damned father. He could never understand how that old bastard would ever think that was a good option, especially on his own son. What a fucking asshole. He heaved a sigh, mustered a weak smile, and took another sip of his drink.

His wink paired with the tone of voice and phrasing he’d used did little to assure Nell that Summoning was the only magic that Darwin did. It seemed that he was more inclined to withhold whatever other magic he was employing, and for a split moment she wondered if it might be blood magic. Perhaps the taboo nature of it was why Darwin was keeping the practice to himself. A year or so ago, Nell would have hesitated to ask, unwilling to reveal that she too was a practitioner of the questionable magic. But the year since then had taught her that if she were going to lose people for things she wouldn’t apologize for- it was easier to do so earlier in a relationship, to be cut loose before she got in too deep and their rejection would sting all the more. Beyond that she’d also learned that the bigger threat someone thought she might pose... the better. Perhaps if she’d been louder about her abilities, half the people that had tried to interfere in her life wouldn’t have done so in the first place. So it was with a straight back and almost daring air about herself that she said, “I also do blood magic.” Nell watched him for a long moment after that, looking for the familiar flicker of distaste of wariness that came over other spellcasters when she mentioned the discipline. 

A demon wrangler made sense based off the way he’d spoken of the otherworldly creatures, and the company he kept with Bertrand. Nell had done her own fair share of recollecting demons that were places they shouldn’t be. “That’s good. And trust me there’s plenty of demons to wrangle around here. Just a few months ago some highschoolers accidentally summoned Bloody Mary. Obviously she’s not a demon but- you get the idea.” Nell refrained from mentioning that two of the teens had died in the process of that entire ordeal. No doubt Darwin was well aware of the casualties that were practically guaranteed when inexperienced practitioners tried to Summon. “You don’t have a coven?” Nell asked again, her curiosity once again piqued. “You’re right about the rules, though. The one I mentioned before has banned any sort of demon summoning.” It had been part of the reason she’d been exiled, though only a fraction of it. 

Taking another sip of the drink he’d given her, Nell gave a half-grin at the mention of company, hiding the eagerness she was feeling at having found a spellcaster who wasn’t forbidden from speaking to her, and also wasn’t her sister. “Well if you keep making me drinks- I might be able to provide an answer to the occasional company problem you’re running into.” She still had so much to ask Darwin, but a whine from underneath the table told Nell that Scrappy was getting antsy, still not entirely comfortable with being in the presence of a stranger and his demon. “I should go take care of this boy, though,” she said before leaning down to give the hellhound a pat. “He’s not really good with company- which I’m sure you figured out when he was trying to bit your ‘bits and pieces’ off.” Her tease was accompanied by another grin, obviously taking amusement in using the phrase against him. “But maybe I could bring one of the more confident hellhounds by another time.”

Darwin almost choked on his drink when she revealed the other kind of magic she did. Hailing from a family of mental magic practitioners, which really never ends well when shared with a new acquaintance because humans have always been a paranoid lot, the demon wrangler had strangely little to no experience with actual blood magic and its practitioners. There was that one girl he befriended, the young single mother, but it was a disheartening affair, one that proved to be more dangerous to herself and to the ones around her. Right then and there, Darwin wondered if the same could be said for Nell. How lonely it must be then, and how painful, that one's magic can punish a practitioner beyond the rules of equivalent exchange. Then again, it must be the only appropriate rule for something as dangerous and painful as blood magic. Darwin took another sip of his drink to regain his composure. "That's interesting. I knew a girl who did that, too. She was...admirable."

"Bloody Mary? Really? High Schoolers?" Darwin shook his head, distancing his lips from the glass as they twisted into a playful smirk born out of disbelief that such young children could be capable of summoning bloody Bloody Mary but at the same time impressed of the act. He was also young when he started Summoning, though he focused mostly on smaller demons first. Then again, he was around their age, if he recalled correctly, when he first summoned a demon the size of a human, not unlike Bloody Mary herself in terms of height and number of limbs, though his was more fueled by lust than violent murder. That was also actually when he first realized he preferred men over women. "Did any of them survive?" His smile turned into a frown when he remembered the truth of the matter. Just because you can actually Summon, just because you got lucky in actually drawing someone else, something else, from their world to this one, doesn't mean what happens next will be harmless, profitable for you. Often, the novice, the inexperienced, dies from the ordeal or during the aftermath due to lack of assertion or impression. No one enjoys an unscheduled appearance, without their consent, in a lesser world.

Darwin simply shook his head at the question relating to his coven, the thought of his own family being akin to that to him...until his father tried to bend him, his mind, to their twisted capitalist bullshit. "Ah, but of course. Demon summoning and witchcraft don't always go hand in hand. Either often prefer to be focused on, unable to share their practitioners with one another." At this point, he was just blowing wind up his own ass. He didn't actually know if that bit was true, only that it made sense to him to be so. His grin returned at her tease, or at least what he perceived to be a tease, longer than before. Even though Darwin had his own preferences when it came to carnal pleasures, he enjoyed flirting, teasing, the art and science of which, most likely because it helped boost his ego, his confidence, in ways that he never could growing up, alone, without the familial support he subconsciously craved. 

"Of course, my love! Feel free to visit any time. Bertrand and I will always enjoy your company and that of your hellhounds." He offered her a grin as he stood, careful not to expose her to his bits and pieces, like the gentleman host that he believed himself to be. Gesturing towards the door, which Bertrand who just appeared from out of nowhere was quick to open, Darwin accompanied his lovely guest on her way out. He could've actually walked her home but it was getting too cold for his bits and pieces, and he was slowly getting too drunk. He did turn to Bertrand, though, and nodded, a gesture that meant the self-appointed butler would follow the witch back to her abode to simply ensure her safety. Not that Darwin believed she couldn't take care of herself, what with the blood magic and the hellhound at her arsenal. It was more like a routine that he half-remembered from his past before he had to escape, flee, a reminder his late mother always told him: Take care of friends and family, even if they never want you to. Well, Darwin was out of family, and Nell was the first friend he'd made in town. Might as well.

Nell waited with a steely gaze for Darwin’s verdict, ready to write off this newfound and tentative friendship here and now if he reacted negatively when it came to her blood magic. She didn’t need anymore people in her life that would leave her down the road, but it seemed that paranoia had been misplaced when he spoke of admiration. “She was?” Nell echoed, as if confirming she’d heard correctly. Obviously she had, and the thought filled her with another spark of tentative hope. “I’m sure she was, then. Admirable, I mean.” 

As for the highschoolers…”Just one,” Nell answered grimly, still holding some residual guilt for having been unable to save the entire lot of them. “Two of them died in the process, including the one who had the ability to Summon in the first place. I don’t think he knew, though- that he held the magic. He didn’t make a proper sacrifice and- well- the Summoning decided it wanted more. I’m sure you understand.” None of them were free of the chains of equivalent exchange, and sometimes the jailers demanded entire lives as a means of paying the price. 

But as Scrappy whined once again, Nell knew he was reaching his limit of being indoors and stationary, and in the presence of a man he’d chased down the street and was still not entirely certain of. “I really am sorry I have to go- there’s a ton more I wanted to ask. But I’ll probably also just message you once I’m home on the White Crest forum thing, and we can pick up where we left off. But I mean it about the drinks,” she reiterated with a grin, still wishful that this budding friendship might be a lasting one. “So be prepared for me to bother you about that within 2-5 business days.” Gathering up Scrappy, she made her way towards the door, giving Bertrand a nod of goodbye as well, not yet realizing that he’d be trailing her on the way home. “And I’ll see you, as well I hope.” With that she was making her way out of his apartment and onto the street, below, pausing with a small smile on her lips to let herself bask in the potential promise of another spellcaster in her life that didn’t hate her guts. Even though she still wasn’t sure how the demon mixup had occurred, that worry could be kept at bay for the moment being with the knowledge that she’d started something new out of it. 

[rabble-dabble]

The Cancer King's Court ~ The Holy Prince

Eridan Ampora/The Holy Prince

This Eridan is, in fact, the Eridan from our timeline. 

After his death at the hands of Kanaya, Eridan mopes around the dreambubbles in a self loathing haze. Without Feferi or Karkat around to try and keep him afloat, Eridan is left to wallow in his own pathetic self pity. He takes every excuse to dive deeper into his own self loathing. Alternate versions of himself who have it better than him just go to show what a fuck-up he is, and those that don’t just reinforce his image of how miserable his life is.

He eventually runs into the Cancer King, who is absolutely pissed to see him. Karkat verbally tears Eridan to shreads, lambasting him for continually burying himself in his own self pity.

“you’re right, kar. god, you’re alwways right. i really am just a-”

“DON’T YOU FINISH THAT FUCKING SENTENCE, ERIDAN AMPORA. WHATEVER IT IS THAT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY, YES, THAT IS IN FACT, WHAT YOU ARE. AN ASSHOLE, A DOUCH CANOE, A RAGING BIGOTED VOLCANO OF BULLSHIT. THE PROBLEM IS THAT YOU CAN’T BE ASSED TO BE ANYTHING MORE THAN THAT.”

“I’M WILLING TO BET THAT YOU’VE SPENT YOUR ENTIRE AFTERLIFE WALLOWING IN SELF LOATHING, HAVEN’T YOU? IT’S ALL YOU DID WHEN YOU WERE ALIVE. IF YOU CAN’T MAKE YOURSELF SOMEONE ELSE’S PROBLEM, THEN YOU’LL JUST SINK INTO A HOLE UNTIL YOU CAN THROW YOUR PROBLEMS ON SOMEONE ELSE’S SHOULDERS. YOU’RE A PARASITE. YOU FED OFF FEFERI, YOU FED OFF ME, AND NOW YOU’RE STARVING BECAUSE NO ONE’S LEFT TO DEAL WITH YOUR BULLSHIT.”

“YOU COULD’VE MADE AN EFFORT, EVEN A SINGLE ATTEMPT, TO FIX YOURSELF UP AT ANY TIME YOU WANTED. I’VE MET PEOPLE WHO WERE ASSBAGS, WHO WERE JUST AS BIG OF SHIT STAINS AS YOU WERE AT ONE POINT, WHO HAVE BECOME BETTER PEOPLE. I’VE MET A VERSION OF VRISKA WHO TRIED TO CLEAN UP HER LIFE. FUCKING. VRISKA.”

“YOU’RE RIGHT, ERIDAN. YOU’RE A TERRIBLE PERSON. YOU’VE NEVER EVEN TRIED TO BE ANYTHING ELSE.”

Eridan stares silently. Karkat sighs and leaves.

Eridan wanders the Dreambubbles some more, Karkat’s lines repeating in his head. At first, it’s just another ember in his smouldering fire of self-loathing, but he can’t keep himself from chewing on it a bit more. Eridan’s conflicted thoughts come to a head when he meets himself from the New Timeline.

The Eridan from this timeline sold out his friends to The Condescension. He’s the reason she rose to power. And everything she’s done is on his shoulders.

When Eridan confronts his alternate self, he starts spewing all the same excuses that Eridan himself has used before. He didn’t have a choice, it’s his duty as royal blood, what did you expect him to do? When pressed, his alternate self admits to regretting what he did.

So, Eridan asks why he hasn’t tried to fix it yet? He’s a Grand Admiral in the Condescension’s navy. He has plenty of resources. He could easily fund the rebellion, work as a spy, plot some assassinations. He could try to fix this. Alternate Eridan refuses.

He’s always been the bad guy. Why pretend he could be anything else?

Eridan leaves in disgust. Karkat’s words finally sink in.

Even when given every reason in the world to change, Eridan couldn’t be bothered. Well, that ends today.

So, Eridan sets out to make amends. He visits the dreams of players still doing their sessions and gives them advice. He gives them hope, listens to their problems, helps them reach God-Tier and guides them away from the mistakes he made. He isn’t very good at it. Not initially. He finds himself listening to them as much as they listen to him. But, still, he grows. And, in doing so, he saves several sessions from the brink of disaster.

Eventually, Eridan meets Feferi. His Feferi.

The two awkwardly catch up, dancing around the obvious. They compare notes on the Dreambubbles and Eridan explains what he’s been up too.

Eridan bursts the bubble first. He asks her if she can forgive him.

…Feferi looks forlorn, devistated even, as she confesses that she doesn’t think she can.

Eridan quietly accepts this as he leaves.

He’s moping to himself in a memory of his old hive when the Pirate Queen knocks on his door. She comforts him and they try to make light of what terrible people they were. Again, they dance around the issue a bit, even humoring a bit of roleplay for old times sake, before they finally talk about the main issue.

Eridan laments how much it hurts to not be forgiven. Vriska can relate, but only to an extent. “I can live with Tavros not forgiving me, 8ut I don’t know where I’d 8e without Terezi. That sounds a 8it closer to what you’re going through.”

Vriska offers that, sense he’s making amends, maybe he could join the King’s Court.

Eridan turns her down. He wants to make amends on his own terms first.

So, Eridan gathers all the Players he’s helped and unties them against his alternate self. Playing on the flaws he knows his alternate self has, Eridan orchestrates his downfall, proving to himself that he’s outgrown the pathetic leech he once was. Eridan sees his new friends off with pride, inspiring them to join the Rebellion and fight fir the freedom of the Multiverse.

With that done, Eridan tracks down the Cancer King. 

“i'vve wwon back my honor. noww i wwant to wwin back my friend.”

Eridan is the King’s commander in chief against the forces of Her Imperious Condescension. He intends to undo the damage done by his alternate self and win back Karkat’s friendship in one foul swoop. Like Vriska, his opponents tend to underestimate him. They expect the same arrogant manchild he used to be, which he uses to catch them off guard. In fact, his effectiveness was so great, that it took Karkat awhile to realize that he wasn’t God-Tier and was, in fact, still dead. Karkat rectified the issue soon after, but it’s a testament to how far he’s come.

Eridan spends most of his time with Vriska. The two of them forming something of a support group about being “the reformed bad guys” of the group. It never quite reaches the outright moirail levels that she has with Terezi though. 

Gamzee holds him in considerably high regard for doing such a 180. It’s the reason he gave him and Vriska such lofty titles. Rose speculates if that has something to do with Gamzee’s unwillingness to face his own issues, but that’s for another day.

Like Aradia, Eridan never forgets the weight of what they’re doing. In fact, he refuses to associate with the ‘sacrifice’ side of the Court’s buisness. He understands the necessity of it, but he’s a reformed man. He can’t bring himself to sink back down there.

For a similar reason, he tries to let anyone know that he's The Holy Prince. He can’t stand to think about what the Players might say if they knew what their mentor was a part of.

Still, Eridan makes a point of befriending those he dismissed. He shares hunting stories with the Purrdator, he relates to the Bard’s loneliness. He even buries the hatchet with Sollux.

Eridan trusts in Terezi to keep Karkat on the straight and narrow, but he still worries about him. Eridan knows exactly what it’s like to bury yourself in your flaws. Luckily, he tends to inspire Karkat to be more merciful just by his example. The King even took the time to learn some of Eridan’s favorite board games. 

In the end, The Holy Prince is a loyal man who holds himself to a high moral standard. A competent commander and a friend to all his students. Eridan Ampora is someone Karkat is proud to call his friend.

god I love that you just submitted this because I SCREAMED when I saw it. 

also????? eridan being a source of advice for KARKAT????? YES PLEASE

anyways you said figure and I went OF ANGELS??? because hell yeah I'm gonna incorporate more aspect stuff. also eridan being a voice of reason is concerning and funny at the same time. i respect that you had vriska relate to him but even then like she has terezi which is SUCH a valid point!!!! eridan has to get there for a LONNNNNNNGGGG while but I'm actually glad that he’s working towards being better seeing he always had that potential but never took it.