#☿ || Asks.

[astarab1aze]

👕 POLO SHIRT - kaede

send a symbol for an aesthetic polo shirt - appearance/fashion preferences

[sleetsong]

This enemy was far too strong, although it was thanks to an old bout with Toguro that inspired an idea in Yusuke. He needed to sacrifice himself to give his friends the rush in power that they needed to take this man down..at least then this world would be safe. Safe for his mother who loves him, Genkai that save him direction, Keiko for her kindness and friendship and then Ami..someone that surprised him more than anyone, a friendship that he truly wanted to see if it would turn into something more. Before Sensui delivered the final blow against him his eyes found Ami's as they arrived in time to see Yusuke be struck down. His lifeless body was on the floor, breathless and completely silent.

                                   SHE HAD TO HURRY! How could he rush off alone! Ami was willing to handle & deal with alot when it came to Yusuke. The fight against HUMANS & YOKAI alike, having to witness the CARNAGE that was the Dark Tournament & somehow, someway keeping hold of her own mental sanity & becoming a cheerleader for Yusuke & all of team Urameshi as whole; helping whenever she could after fights with her own medical knowledge for the humans of the group while also going over strategies for fights given the fact that in her own group, she was the TACTITIAN. She never pushed her ideas, only gave advice while helping to keep both Kuwabara & Yusuke walking. Services was offered to both Kurama & Hiei as well, but only Kurama took the senshi up on it when needed. 

                                     & when she finally had to CONFESS to the other senshi who couldn't understand why Ami was spending so much time with someone who was the opposite of her, just WHY & how they were interconnected with the Yokai, with even some of them having dark moons on their heads, the consensus was clear. If NEEDED they too will answer the call. Hence why all five of them ran through that cave with Ami at the helm having a read on the large amounts of spiritual energy. 

             ALMOST THERE--WE'RE COMING! HANG ON!

                                    Being just close was not enough. The girls tried, they really did & had their own run in with Yokai instructed to keep out anymore intruders. They were SCRAPPED, BLOODIED, TIRED YET STILL PRESSED ON. The light from where they needed to be got closer & closer with the sounds of battle to accompany it. Her heart paced faster than her feet just knowing they were closing in & then, they did. They got there....just in time to watch him die. Their eyes locked as if a non-verbal apology between them was said.

                                   𝑰'𝑴 𝑺𝑶𝑹𝑹𝒀.

                                   Her eyes were wide. The world stopped. Everything was muted. All she could see with the LIFE ENDING WOUND in his body & eyes that held such a fire in them...go out. They were out. Blank. Knowing what they both do the topic of death came up between them many a time & Ami always found herself unable to keep up with the MORBID conversation.

                       '𝑊𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜 𝑖𝑓 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑑?'

                                        Ami could never answer him for the question would cause her to CONFRONT how she felt for him. It force to her to ADMIT there was more than friendship there & the FEAR of acknowledging that was too much. She could never answer. & now, here it was, in front of her, & she had to answer. 'What would you do if I died?' Her being stiffed. Her tears feel. The sign of mercury BLAZED on her forehead & the soilder had her answer.

                              SHATTER.

                            ❝ 𝒀𝑼𝑺𝑼𝑲𝑬  !   !  !  !  !  !  !  !  ❞

[tangerinesour]

i know i said it before, but thank you for all being here and for enjoying whatever the hell it is i'm doing with tange. it means a lot to me that you want to hear my opinions abt another of my funky lil dudes.

[novy2sirius]

MERCURY HOUSE CORE ©novy2sirius

trigger warning: mental health issues, pedophilia, killing, physical health issues ☘️

this is just a random post abt things ppl with these placements could experience ☘️

these r only abt isolated placements so take it with a grain of salt bc the whole chart matters ☘️

a lot of these r experiences i’ve heard from my friends and ppl who’ve purchased readings from me directly ☘️

☿ mercury in 1h core

being diagnosed with more mental illnesses than u can count, being very intelligent which leads u to be anxious just by existing bc of all ur knowledge, saying things u don’t mean cuz u were angry, being told u have a youthful face, knowing a bunch of random facts abt things and telling ppl and them asking why tf u know that or care, hyper-fixating on things u can’t control, getting internet hate by simply existing, getting dmed sexual stuff by random weird dudes trying to prey on u (especially when ur younger), getting nauseous bc ur anxiety is so bad (especially before school), having sexy hands, skipping school to be on ur phone all day and do nothing, asking way too many questions bc of ur curiosity abt everything and annoying ppl (especially as a kid), giving ur opinion when no one asked for it, being told u could be a good rapper/singer, being rly good at flirting bc of ur charm, cussing a lot

☿ mercury in 2h core

being obsessed with mukbang/eating videos and then making urself rly hungry and being frustrated bc u can’t have the food they’re eating in the video, valuing ur own opinions more than others, not answering texts or calls bc ur too lazy to but then liking those same ppls posts on instagram, saying “um” too much or having a lot of pauses in between words bc ur a slow thinker, talking to ur toys as a kid when u were lonely, getting all ur food recipes from pinterest, buying online gift cards for ppl instead of putting effort into an actual gift/on the flip side if ur a more creative person putting a lot of thought into gifts, being good at making things from scratch, being more wealthy in online games than in real life, being obsessed w the papa’s food games on cool math as a kid, holding grudges against ppl who kill u on roblox, liking scents that smell like food or scents that make u smell rich/boujee, always making money, making money online

☿ mercury in 3h core

double texting bc u have sm to say and will forget abt it if u don’t type it immediately, being able to get lots of followers on social media, being gossiped abt online, being a huge reader, enjoying hearing abt other ppls drama but not wanting to be in any, having a child-like energy (this can be in a positive or negative way depending on what vibration ur at in life), saying childish things in arguments when ur at a lower vibration (example: meh meh meh :p), drama following u wherever u go, aging well, being obsessed with sims, not believing things unless there’s very good reasoning to back them up, being able to communicate well, being a talented writer, forming all ur opinions from ur older siblings (if u have any), math or literature being ur favorite subject, being a good driver, enjoying traveling but not for too long bc u get tired quickly of it, being charming af, being witty and quickly thinking of good jokes

☿ mercury in 4h core

posting all ur feelings on social media or going thru that emo phase in middle school where u would post those sad lyric vids on ur snapchat, ur family gossiping abt u a lot and u overhearing it in the next room, having a super low pain tolerance, enjoying watching self care vids, getting baby fever after seeing tiktoks of cute babies, being a rly good person to come to if someone needs a comfort person, living in an rv/camper at some point in ur life, telling ur mom everything and her giving u advice abt certain situations but then u don’t listen and she ends up being right abt the whole thing, coming to ur mom for advice on everything in general, ur mom being more childish than u, being able to write stories that readers rly emotionally relate to a lot, ur mom having videos of u still up on her facebook from when u were little that still haunt u to this day

☿ mercury in 5h core

being creative as hell, being a natural performer, having a fun childlike energy, being a huge risk taker and thrill seeker, being a talented actor, being rly good at video games and possibly becoming famous from playing them, living for the drama but not wanting to be a part of it, downloading tinder and not knowing y u don’t just delete it, being sassy, being told ur trying to hard to be the main character but u literally r the main character and can’t help that, not having ur first love until ur an adult and only experiencing puppy love in ur youth, going to a bunch of concerts, being turned on by wattpad stories and feeling like a whore bc of it, flirting w ppl online and then being scared to say anything to them in person when u see each other, being a good driver

☿ mercury in 6h core

ppl saying u come off super innocent (even if ur not), constantly doing things for others even when they don’t give the same energy in return, being obsessed with improving ur health or with videos online abt being healthy/fit, feeling awful before going to school bc it gives u horrible anxiety and makes u feel like ur gonna puke, thinking ur gonna get a stroke every time u have a normal headache (and being a hypochondriac in general), not functioning without consistency in ur life, having an entire pinterest board of cute animals, being good with animals, being obsessed w ur hygiene and feeling nasty when u don’t shower everyday, weirdly loving medical shows such as greys anatomy, having a lot of stomach issues

☿ mercury in 7h core

convincing ppl to do things with ur charm, wanting to tell ppl something and be honest with them but being too scared bc u don’t want them to hate u and r constantly afraid u’ll hurt them, copying ur romantic partners slang/ur partners copying urs, meeting lovers online, dating or marrying gemini/virgo placements, having age gaps in ur relationships, getting into a lot of conflicts online, ur ex partner/ex best friends posting abt u and subbing u (not saying ur name directly but talking abt u) online after u have a fallout, flirting with ppl on club penguin or roblox when u were younger, changing ur opinions easily based on what ur partner or close friends think, dating ppl when ur too young to even drive, posting a lot abt ur relationship online

☿ mercury in 8h core

analyzing ppl well and understanding them before anyone else does, ppl randomly telling u their deepest darkest secrets when u didn’t even ask, being interested in the way ppls minds work which leads u to become obsessed w books abt psychology/astrology/tarot/etc, starting to masturbate from a rly young age that’s almost concerning, having a lot of mental health issues bc of ur childhood trauma, using dark humor as a way to cope with ur trauma, not realizing how much trauma u’ve went thru until someone verbally tells u that u’ve been thru a lot (usually a therapist), being a tomboy as a kid, being obsessed with true crime, being told ur mysterious, saying out of pocket shit that has high shock value, being stalked online

☿ mercury in 9h core

having a more optimistic mindset than everyone around u, enjoying traveling a lot, wanting to leave ur hometown as soon as possible, driving when traveling instead of taking a plane cuz u don’t wanna pay for the flight, majoring in communications or something involving technology or literature, having an interest in other cultures more than ur own, coming off as intelligent bc of the way u talk and ur mannerisms, being told that u could be a good lawyer from a young age, being a good interviewer, knowing multiple languages, having logical ethics, being a comedian, being an amazing story teller

☿ mercury in 10h core

trying to keep ur daily life private and ppl still getting in ur business, being able to influence the public easily bc they seem to care a lot abt what u say, being famous on social media, being a famous singer, rumors being spread abt u to the public, having a talent for teaching others, having goals that u set as a kid that u feel u must fulfill, having a career involving cars, having a career involving technology, having a career involving writing/literature, being seen as someone who’s intelligent (especially in ur workplace), having dad humor, coming off as a know it all (10h is associated with experts and mercury is the thinking/the mind), being known for ur humor and how funny u r, playing online games that involve having a job such as papa’s freezeria

☿ mercury in 11h core

having random bursts of creative ideas and doing crazy stuff like writing an entire movie and then literally forgetting abt it the next day, ur best friends being ur siblings, having the most random thought processes, being able to make friends easily, having lots of online friends, being clumsy as hell, having a fan page/editing page when u were younger, being known as “the weird kid” in school (this doesn’t mean it’s always in a bad way tho it can mean in a unique/fun way), being popular online, having unique mannerisms, having a unique voice/unique speech patterns, being a good rapper, being dragged into online drama, cussing a lot, saying random things out of nowhere like ice bear from we bare bears, having a lot of ideas that r unique bc u think outside of the box, having unique perceptions, constantly changing ur mind abt things

☿ mercury in 12h core

speaking/writing things into existence with minimal effort, being obsessed with the feeling of nostalgia and making urself feel it then regretting it bc it hurts, ppl interrupting u and talking over u a lot, ppl ignoring what ur saying and making u feel like a ghost, having a huge interest in spiritual things, manipulating and lying a lot when at a lower vibration, being bullied (especially as a kid/in school), feeling lonely even when ur literally socializing or at a social function, having an astrology account, having more online friends than friend’s in person, daydreaming a lot in social settings (and in general), gaslighting ppl when at a lower vibration, being able to speak to the dead thru ur dreams, hearing ppl talking when ur half asleep, sleep walking, being sensitive to things ppl say but trying to hide it, healing ppl through ur words, hiding ur true thoughts abt someone, hiding ur true intentions, having strong emotional intelligence when at a high vibration, easily figuring out what someone’s feeling, being able to do rly good impressions

[multiicolor]

Ⓐ - addison @ caelan (for the heck of it X3)

send me Ⓐ and my muse will rate yours / accepting !

Attractiveness:

repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words

Personality:

grating || irritating || frustrating || boring || confusing at best || awkward || unreasonable || disturbing || interesting || engaging || affectionate || aggressive || ambitious || anxious || artistic || bad tempered || bossy || charismatic || appealing || unappealing || creative || courageous || dependable || unreliable || unpredictable || predictable || devious || dim || extroverted || introverted ||  egotistical || gregarious || fabulous || impulsive || intelligent || sympathetic || talkative || up beat || peaceful || calming || badass || flexible

Level of Friendship:

never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends || good friends || best friends || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends || my only friend ||

First impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

Current impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

How good of a kisser:

worst kisser ever || terrible || bad || awkward || just okay || alright || pretty good || good || excellent || exciting || oh god they’re good || I dream about it || fucking amazing || absolute perfection || we haven’t kissed

[hoodreader]

Mars asks:

“Why do you struggle?”

read for mars within a persona chart to learn how u may be challenged in that persona chart. mars is the planet representative of struggles and hardship, things not being achieved without a little strife or resistance. within persona charts, mars thus can represent how we may struggle to the core of the planet. remedy the planet to offset the malefic influences of mars. enjoy.

✶ ASC PERSONA CHART ✶

this shows challenges with the native's health, sense of direction, self embodiment/sense of self, spirit, and overall life, as the ascendant represents the moment the native came into existence. as the ascendant also tells us how we enter new environments; how we are "born," it can show those metaphorical ‘labor pains’ associated with that.

✶ MOON PERSONA CHART ✶

how u struggle to find security. it also tells u of what things may cause u to revert back to survival mode: like u have to protect or guard urself. things that challenge ur sense of comfort. it can cause a struggle in emotional relation, regulation, and belonging in community. it can show u ways u may struggle with ur mother, women around u, older sibling(s) if the native has one, or family/home environments as well. things that challenge ur ability to emotionally regulate. with fertility or hormonal balances.

✶ ☿ MERCURY PERSONA CHART ✶

how u struggle to communicate, think, write, process information, or relate to community as well. it can also show struggles with ur siblings. challenges ur ability to adapt to environment. and it causes struggle within the mind. struggles relating to focus, can show distractions.

✶ ♀ VENUS PERSONA CHART ✶

mars and venus are each others' detriment. in the venus PC, mars shows what challenges ur sense of peace. it also represents challenges/tension in romantic/sexual relationships (this could range anywhere from lowered libido to hypersexuality to abuse, sadly) venus is also the planet of our aesthetic and artistic expression, so mars in the venus PC can show how our creativity is challenged or how we struggle with it. how our pleasure, companionship, is challenged. it also tells us our struggles with femininity and/or women around u. challenges relating to forgiveness or reconciliation.

✶ ♂ MARS PERSONA CHART ✶

mars within the mars PC is the deeper expression of the natal mars. but since mars is a malefic, my theory is that this doesn't necessarily cancel out the malefic influence as much as it exposes the weakness of it. this can show a challenge with how u advocate (for urself & others), ur drive, ur libido. as mars is the warrior, it can also show generally how u struggle to triumph. struggles relating to health issues, with being subdued or authority figures; what "tortues" u. struggles to masculinity and/or men.

✶ ♃ JUPITER PERSONA CHART ✶

struggles of fertility/the womb/the semen/the liver, marriage (chiefly, fidelity), of attaining freedom and liberation. struggles with accepting blessings, gifts, fortune. hardships and challenges relating to trusting. to generosity. to alliances.

✶ ♄ SATURN PERSONA CHART ✶

the development of ur struggles and challenges as u age, karmic struggles, struggles with authoritative figures. challenges with shame and humility. how u are challenged by authority. ways u are troubled by reputation. challenges of the spiritual entities u possess. infertility. discipline.

[moonlitrogue]

hi

can i ask about mercury in the 8th house?

Hi! Of course ~~~

 ☿▪️ Excluding other factors and aspects, Mercury takes on a Plutonian intensity when it resides in the Eighth House.

 ☿▪️ The house of transformation and slow, inevitable changes clashes with Mercury, the fastest planet overseeing our relations with the realm of ideas.

☿ Mercury in 8th House ☿

‧₊˚🖇️   Mercury in 8h is a mental scalpel interested in extracting spiritual and psychological insights.

‧₊˚🖇️ Natives are driven with the tendency to get to the bottom of things.

‧₊˚🖇️ Mercury in the 8th house gives me gothic academia vibes.

‧₊˚🖇️ Except these natives aren't just learning from books. The way they think, communicate and understand the world is often through intense life experiences.

‧₊˚🖇️ Alternatively, simple conversations, or casual reading, or day-to-day operations can result in the natives having profound realizations

‧₊˚🖇️ This placement bestows an insatiable curiosity on life's hidden mysteries - a bent towards the occult and the esoteric, as well as taboo subjects is quite common.

‧₊˚🖇️ As curious as they may be they can end up spooking themselves at times with what they unearth 🤭

‧₊˚🖇️ Communication style - often go straight to the heart of the matter, probing and inquisitive, choose their words carefully and selective about what they share.

‧₊˚🖇️ Their words have the ability to cut you. Some of the natives can be harsh or shrewd in their communication.

‧₊˚🖇️ They're either impressive or incomprehensible speakers.

‧₊˚🖇️ Excavators of information and insight - they may be attracted to forensic investigation, psychotherapy, investigative journalism, neuroscience, archaeology, paleontology, foreign travelling/research/hidden cultures, financial and risk analysts, estate attorney and legal advocacy, human rights, public-speaking, filmmaking esp. thriller fiction (+writer/researcher), strategy based sports to name some.

‧₊˚🖇️ Could also be a skilled entrepreneur, or political analyst, or negotiator due to their ability to quickly read between the lines and anticipate moves in a high-stakes situation

‧₊˚🖇️ They have a survivor's mindset driving them to achieve in areas of mental endurance and transformations. Adversely, they could be arrogant and boastful.

‧₊˚🖇️ Natives may struggle with emotional processing of grief as they're quick to intellectualize life's mysteries and pain, faster than their emotions can keep up.

‧₊˚🖇️ May have had secrecy or taboos surrounding their early childhood learning ( eg. going to an isolated school); could be private in their learning methods

‧₊˚🖇️ Sibling dynamics could have involved secrecy and betrayal, making them attached to psychological observations

‧₊˚🖇️ Natives will benefit from deep-breathing exercises and outdoor activities ( doesn't include exploring foggy meadows, cemeteries, abandoned houses or crime scenes 🤨)

[astarab1aze]

☕️ HOT BEVERAGE - faith

send a symbol for an aesthetic hot beverage - my muse's favorite foods/drinks

[astarab1aze]

A silent, perhaps mutual agreement to set the subject of Fumis and his trespasses aside for the moment - she could only breathe a sigh of relief; Of course, she knew better, that she wasn't quite out of the woods as far as their talk was concerned. A concensus would need to still be reached between them, whether she relished the thought - and she most certainly did not. It was, admittedly, a lot to impress upon her in her mind, old and new anxieties playing her for a fool sat on the sidelines and not the lady who survived and conquered a piece of Hell. She hadn't wanted to broach Fumis' behavior, not really, not until after breakfast.

"I'll go with you." But a walk sounded promising, a bit of extra peace in their morning before needing to sit down and figure out what to do with Fumis - she hoped she could change his mind, but there was still a chance he'd do the same. She'd never quite been able to resist him in full, always one to make her concerns and frustrations known yet still always stood by him through whatever choices he'd made and the consequences they wrought. Faithful, truly, to the only man she'd ever felt safe with, the only other half-blood that accepted her for as broken and intollerably powerless as she was, given a seat at the table and properly considered, respected and beheld with reverence and devotion when what was separated had at last been reunited. Faithful, despite the terrors of their shared beaten path, of choices made she loathed, actions taken she despised, consequences earned not by her hand - though, that was not to say she hadn't done her own mucking.

For many years, she was frightened of herself, of the world spinning around her and how it spitefully chewed her to pieces and spit her out, and she was a failure by rights; She couldn't learn to fight, to stand on her own two feet, frightened, then, of what she could do, and worsening circumstances for all around her because of it. And when at last she found her footing, she abandoned her mate to the grounds of Paradise, thrusting herself into the fires of Hell in some vain, juvenile attempt at solidifying her place, breaking an already fragile piece of him in her selfishness. She never could believe in herself. But he was there, in the end, he was there every time she bled, every time she fell to her knees, every time she couldn't get back up again. He was there to prevent any of it from happening once more, even when he was a bloody bastard he would stand and fight at her side, tend to her wounds when it was over - but he trusted her to fight for herself, too.

She really couldn't deny him, could she? Too much she owed, too much that'd been earned, too much she would give freely, and so much more besides... Love was about compromise, give and take, and perhaps she'd taken more than she'd earned. Perhaps she could fold this once.

Bianca had decided, after breakfast, she was going to abstain from washing the dishes; Of course, she would still rinse and organize them neatly for when she and Vergil returned from their walk. Dry her hands and toddle away, intent on dressing appropriately for the weather - the sky had been overcast, a mix of shadow and light to curtain their trek, which would've been nice if it didn't also mean a potential for rain. She pulled a black sweater over her head and stuffed her feet into and laced her boots, ready to go before Vergil could round the corner and join her by the door, strings of half-dried roses contrasting with white paint.

"Did you have any place in mind?" she asked gently, hoping for some clarity before they set out. "We could walk along the trees, or head into town- I'm sure there's a park nearby, somewhere."

Her gaze met his briefly, but she was quick to turn away and scuttle out of the door; It wasn't a cold shoulder, but a readiness to depart and make their way as they would. She would wait for him outside on the steps, hands patting the tops of her thighs before awkwardly jamming into her pockets, wreathed in morning light that made her hair look a bit less yellow. She wondered if he'd noticed, just as she wondered if he'd bring that up again. She hoped he did, hoped he wouldn't, hoped and hoped and hoped. Oh, why was she - like this?

Sometimes, oftentimes, Vergil could be too perceptive for his own good. In Bianca's hesitation to answer, he saw the challenge in what he was proposing. But, of course she wouldn't agree. She wouldn't want to shoo away someone who was a stand-in father figure for the biological father who'd virtually abandoned her. He had made that choice, and it hurt Bianca, but it also allowed someone with more compassion and a stronger sense of obligation to step in and give her more, better. Vergil wasn't so much of an asshole that he would blame her for any of that, or try to use it against her. He had a heart, even if it wasn't a very good one (anymore), and it was weakest where she was concerned.

The way she told him that this house was his, however, formed a small lump in between his stomach and his esophagus. He didn't like the tone of it; as though to imply that she had no real power here, or that she might prefer to wash her hands of a potential problem because it was one she couldn't face. But Bianca wasn't that cowardly: he had seen her voice her principles and stand by them when it mattered, and little else was more personal for her than the matter of Fumis. In truth, that lump in Vergil's abdomen was beginning to feel sourer. It was also tasting of regret.

What that old demon did was wrong, but was it punishable by exile? Vergil needed to be rational, logical; not recklessly emotional, and much of what he'd just gotten through saying was carried by emotion and not much else. Sometimes it was difficult to strike a balance. Sometimes he wasn't sure which side to lean harder on. Perhaps he judged too rashly, too soon. He propped one elbow up and rested his cheek on the closed fist at the other end of his arm, and he sat quietly as he mused, perhaps hoping to discover some clarity within the steam that billowed upward from his cup.

Was it really such a big deal? Fumis had handily proven himself a nuisance whenever he was in the mood to be one, but it would also be unfair to accuse him of being a frequent offender. Most times, he let them be...

Vergil couldn't help sighing, tangling himself further in his web of thoughts. It would probably be a good idea to eat, then maybe step out for some fresh air. Yes, fresh air suddenly seemed a fantastic idea. Blessed by senses greater than most, Vergil picked up on the indistinct muttering through the beating of eggs—at least, he'd made out most of those words, and it was enough to have him straighten his posture. "Bianca." Not having uttered a word so far, he chose now to do it. With his usual strength, he offered, "When we're finished here, I'm stepping out. Just for a walk. Would you want to join me?" If he didn't want her along, he wouldn't have asked.

The parasitic fiend snacking on his psyche almost teased him with words, but sent a feeling shooting through his gut instead, and Vergil was very well aware of what it meant to suggest. 'Now who's avoiding?'

[sleetsong]

The other students were silent the moment they spotted a boy from another school boldly enter their classroom. The boy's face held a rather stoic demeanor as brown hues began scanning the room. Looking for someone and then..BOOM, there she was. Yusuke approaches Ami with his expression not faltering once..because this was incredibly embarrassing. Out in public doing something 'NICE'. Gently he places the box onto her table. "I'm not much of a cook, but I figured it's yer birthday so I made ya something." The comment about him not being 'much of a cook' would soon betray him. The moment she tastes this meal she will be overwhelmed with flavors, even the presentation was great in itself. The bento itself was a little warm to the touch which meant Yusuke had recently prepared it. "Happy Birthday."

(skipped class to use Yukimura's kitchen, skipped the day to travel to her school)

                                          The day started just as it would all the other days of the week & that was quite ok. Ami had thought about taking the day to herself & enjoy the anniversary of her birth yet, she had nothing planned until the evening with friends. Besides, just because it was her BIRTHDAY didn't mean she could slack on her work---she DID call out of cram school though; that can wait until tomorrow. As the lesson was underway, she found herself just ENTRACE with her book, absorbing the information while praying for the class to finally end. But, she snapped out of it when the door of their classroom FLUNG! open and a familiar green suit caught was caught out of the corner of her eye. Yusuke? ❝  Urameshi  -  san  ?  ?  ❞ She mouthed quietly ready to be in PANIC about why he was here. What he OK? Did he get into another FIGHT with a Yokai? He knew where to find her but he had never done THIS--he usually waited. 

                                         But then, the reason why made it self known & ami's words were caught in her chest. Students were staring, as well as the teacher who was taken aback by the disruption. What was she gonna do? Yell at him? Smack him? Scold him? No. Nothing of the sort. In fact, ami couldn't even bring herself such a thing, she was TOO BUSY attempting to hold back her tears of happiness. Finally, she found strength within herself to stand, her face alittle red & eyes tear stained. But----with a smile. A sweet smile. A GRATEFUL smile. Without thinking, Ami found her arms wrapped around Yusuke's neck, squeezing as tight as her noodle arms could. 

                                    ❝  Thank you  ,  Yusuke  .  ❞

[tangerinesour]

@lemontart fucking murdered me at 2am : it is the hospital. the woman who did her best to raise them will pass before lunch. one of the last thing she says to him, with her frail shaking hand overlapping one of his, is that she is proud of him. ''you have grown into a fine young man.'' her voice can't raise above a whisper, these days. it grows weaker, too. ''i'm sorry i couldn't protect you, either of you, but you never really needed protection, did you, art?'' a last attempt at a joke. her lips grimace with an attempt of a smile. ''now i ... i need your help this time, alright? i'll keep watch, but you... mal,'' mal, who is asleep in the chair across the room. who knows nothing. ''you have'ta look out for him a little more from now on. you'll need each other. he'll need you to ... protect him ...''

they've been at her bedside practically since she'd been admitted, but he's been strong for her and for mal. she's always been malachi's mum, hasn't she? he could probably count on his fingers the number of times he's called out to her, rather than just striking up, already mid-sentence. but she raised him after his own mother handed him off and after their dad had had enough. she was there. she's supposed to be here for them — what'll they do otherwise?

a closed fist swipes at his cheek to catch the tears there as he nods. of course he'll help. that's his job. he's a pretty good helper when he isn't picking fights. maybe if he promises to stop getting into scrapes, maybe then... ❝ please don't go, ❞ arthur's hand falls to cover his mouth, trying to keep quiet so mal don't hear him crying, ❝ mum, please. ❞

[kuunibal]

Planetary Yandere Asks

Sun (☉): Do you identify as/with any other -dere types? How about your darling? Would you want your beloved to have similar tendencies as you?

Moon (☽): Which yandere aesthetic(s) do you resonate with? Pastel? Guro/gore? Dark?

Mercury (☿): How did you discover yandere/obsessive love/etc. community? What has your experience of having a yandere blog been like?

Venus (♀︎): What is your relationship with your darling(s)? What initially drew you to them? Were your feelings sudden or gradual?

Mars (♂︎): How do you deal with "rivals" or those that wish to covet your beloved, if at all?

Jupiter (♃): What nicknames or terms of endearment do you enjoy using for your darling, if any? What pet names do you like for yourself?

Saturn (♄): What sets off your obsessive and/or possessive feelings?

Uranus (♅): How do you personally define "yandere" as it relates to you?

Neptune (♆): Would you say you are more dominant or submissive to your darling? Also, god complex or inferiority complex?

Pluto (♇): Have you always had obsessive/possessive inclinations or did you develop them from your current darling? When did you to realise you were a yandere?

[sleetsong]

                        The BRASH nature on this man was truly the most OFF PUTTING thing Ami has had to deal with up to date. Not to mention the fact that Inuyasha had been CHOOSING her home as a place of SANCTUARY. With her mother not being around as often as other teens, it made it easier to hide him out there, much to her DISMAY---especially if this was the attitude she was going to be subjected to. ❝  My  natural  reaction  to  seeing  a  face  staring  at  me  while  sleep  is  something  anyway  one  do  .  Such  a  thing  does  not  constitute  me  as  a  wimp  .  ❞ Ami had finally stand up; ANNOYANCE drawn upon her face. There was a conversation to be had with Kagome was going to have to happen. There was no telling just HOW MUCH MORE of this she could deal with. Her annoyance faded to that of ALERTNESS. ❝  A  cat  ?  Wh  -  -  what  color  ?  Where  is  it  ?  ?  ❞

“ That’s not funny! You scared me half to death! “

❝ i wouldn't of scared ya if ya weren't such a wimp ! ❞ he stands up from his crouched position by her bed and shoves his hands in his sleeves. inuyasha has been trying to figure her out for weeks now. that odd scent that seemed to cling to her reminded him too much of shippo's magic for his liking. it wasn't the same, but it was close enough to spark his curiosity. the half-demon huffs and fixes her with a hard stare. ❝ a weird ass cat was hanging around outside your window this morning, know anything about that? ❞

halloween ask meme

[moraxsthrone]

☿ title:: desperate measures

☿ pairing:: mafia boss!arataki itto x f!reader

☿ wc:: 1.2k

☿ warnings:: nsfw. mdni. mafia au. gangsters. thigh riding (if you squint). public sex/exhibitionism/voyeurism. itto calls you a slut (endearing). mentions: mob front, extortion.

☿ a/n:: okay but arataki mafia boss!itto fucking you on the conference table during a gang briefing. you knew you’re not supposed to interrupt his meetings, but you just couldn't wait, could you? 

you know itto is in an important meeting, but you haven't seen him since he rolled out of bed early that morning - his big, naked body dipping the mattress made you stir just for him to kiss your forehead and shush you back to sleep. you had awaken a little while later, aching with a need, so intensely craving your man’s attention - his touch, his weight, his cock - that it drove you to desperate measures.

you walk inside the dimly lit conference room, all the men stopping to look at you and it’s not lost on itto the way they all ravish you with their eyes. as you make your way to the head of the table, itto stops talking and leans back in his big wingback leather chair with his fingers steepled, stalking you with his gaze. "i thought i told you not to interrupt me when i'm in a meeting…" 

stopping in front of him, you clasp your hands behind your back and poke at the floor with the toe of your shoe while biting your lip. "m'sorry, itto. i'm just so lonely. can i sit on your lap? i promise i'll be a good girl and be quiet." 

he rolls his amber eyes and spreads his legs before patting his muscular thigh. "come. sit." 

you obey and itto gets back down to business with his boys when he feels a warm, wet spot forming on the top of his thigh - right beneath where your cunt sits. 

as you squirm to get comfortable, the fabric of itto’s black slacks provides just enough friction to make your clit throb harder, but not enough to give you any relief. if anything, your pussy aches even more now that you know his dick is only a few inches away. you subtly roll your hips, rubbing your butt against the head of his clothed cock - so thick and spongy even when it’s soft - and you feel him twitch beneath you. 

the topic turns to legalities concerning his gang’s latest front when itto picks one of your legs up and situates you such that you’re straddling both of his thighs. he thinks it’s comical the way the other men respectfully look everywhere except the space between your open legs when your skirt rides up to your hips. one by one, however, they can’t help but glance back when a soft mewl escapes your lips and your head lolls back to rest against itto’s broad shoulder. 

their boss’s large fingers have your panties pulled to one side, the tip of one slipping between your folds to spread your slick over your clit. he’s got you on full display, almost daring the other men to watch as he claims you. it’s impressive really, the way itto doesn’t miss a beat when he addresses his legal consultant, who, at his boss’s request, nervously places the licensing papers that require his signature on the table in front of him. you bite your lip to stifle your whine when itto pulls his fingers from your slit and sucks them clean before picking up his pen and signing his name on the dotted lines. with your glistening pussy on full display the men shift uncomfortably in their chairs.

the discussion continues as itto picks you up by your hips and sits you down on the mahogany conference table, your barely clad butt making a subtle slapping sound against the wooden surface. he's still engaged, asking one of the other men a question about logistics when he pulls your panties off and stuffs them in his pocket. the other men watch, gulping hard as their boss yanks you right up to the edge and throws his tie over his shoulder before wedging his hips between your open thighs. when his colleague fails to answer his question, itto clears his throat to reclaim his attention like he's not unbuckling his huge belt right in front of them. 

you're keening, too horny and needy to care who watches when itto reaches between your legs and spreads your folds open to expose your winking cunt and tease your clit. he pauses and looks expectantly at one of the gentlemen who can hardly tear his eyes away as your back arches off the table. for itto and a couple of his more seasoned gangsters, it's business as usual. but the rest are all guests, watching with morbid fascination as their host unfastens his pants and pulls his thick, veiny cock out, still stroking it to a full erection. 

itto asks for confirmation that the organization’s current extortion scheme is still going as planned as he guides his beefy member between your labia to drag it back and forth over your clit. he knows you're plenty wet for him - he can see your slick pooling on the dark wood between your plush ass cheeks - but he takes quiet delight in making you choke back a whine when he slaps the leaking head of his cock against your hardened bud. 

"yes, sir. nearly all the arrangements have been made," one of the men stammer as itto carefully lines himself up, his plump cockhead pushing against your greedy hole. "just a couple more phone calls - perhaps a little extra incentive - should win them over," the man says, clearing his throat when itto grunts at the sensation of your wet heat engulfing him as he forces his weighty dick through your tight opening.

itto proceeds to fuck you right there on the conference table, only having to remind you once to keep quiet. your pussy squelches, audibly sucking on his fat dick as a ring of your cream forms near the wide base of it, but that can't be helped. a couple of the guests squirm as their erections take hold, watching this powerful mob boss fuck his girl right in front of them. 

the discussion goes on, itto only having to redirect the attendees’ attention a couple of times before he himself begins to struggle with staying on the topic at hand. one of the gentlemen is in the middle of explaining how an upcoming charity event could help the organization’s image when itto puts a finger up. "h-nn-hang on a sec-" he breathes, the sensitive head of his cock swelling inside you as it nudges your cervix. 

the snapping of itto’s strong hips comes faster and harder as he leans over you, forcing your back onto the hard surface. he presses your knees back, drilling his cock with increasing stutters of his thrusts. "nhh fuck," he swears under his breath, tapping your thigh. "cum for me, slut. say my fuckin' name. tell the boys who fucks ya this good." 

“y-you do, itto! fucking my pussy so good with your fat cock.” you cry his name out again and again as your walls spasm helplessly around his abusive girth, milking him. he pulls out, fisting the angry red tip of his cock, the other men all watching with sick anticipation and hard dicks as arataki itto's cum spurts out in long, thick ropes onto your spent pussy and creamy thighs.

itto mlist

if you reblog and/or interact i give you kisses !! please spread the love and help my new blog grow in the process !! 💜

[roosterbruiser]

𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬 ☿ 𝟏𝟏

☿ 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 "𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫" 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮 (𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞: 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐀𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐧) ☿ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The aftermath. ☿ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.8k ☿ 𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲 ☿ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬 ☿ 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ☿ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭--𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝟏𝟖+. 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟕𝟎𝐬--𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐫𝐚. 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲! 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 (𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥) 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟓𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟗 𝐋𝐨𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐂𝐀

Rooster hurries over to the sofa and lays your body down carefully--as carefully as he can when he’s shaking this bad. Your dress is wrecked: torn at the thighs, muddled with tequila and vomit and tequila-scented vomit, wrinkled. Now Rooster is panicking as Jake paces behind the sofa, watching the scene before him helplessly. 

“Rooster, fuck, I--!”

“--The fuck happened to her dress?” Rooster asks, fingers shaking as he tugs on the skirt, desperate to cover the lower half of your body besides the obvious.

“I can’t, I don’t--I don’t know, I can’t fucking…I don’t even, like, we-we were fine, we were together and then--and then…” Jake stutters, sobbing into his fist. The scent of your vomit is hot in his nostrils--and your bile running down his back is hotter than that, heavy. “She just--she, she fucking…”

Jake doesn’t remember the last time he had a bump--he needs one. He knows now isn't the time--but he’s fucking freaking out. Your only sign of life is the involuntary lolling of your head, the bile pushing out from between your lips. 

“Spit it out, Goddammit!”

Jake presses his palms to his chest--wonders if he’s having a heart attack--and sniffs hard, wiping his face off and putting his quivering hands on the back of the sofa. 

“Jake,” Rooster warns, voice lethally quiet and serious. “Spit it the fuck out!”

“We were fucking fine! We-we were dancing and then she wandered off for, like, fuck--one fucking second and I found her by the bathrooms, man. She was like this already! I think someone--fuck, I think someone slipped her something.” 

Rooster’s blood runs cold. 

“We’ve gotta take her to the hospital,” Rooster says. If he was closer to Jake, if he had the ability to leave your side, he’d be shoving Jake’s chest hard. “The Hell you doing bringing her here? You fucking idiot!”

Rooster knows it wouldn’t make him feel any better--if he got a frantic phone call from Jake and had to drive to the hospital. But it would be better than this. Anything would be better than this. 

Jake shakes his head. 

“We can’t,” he insists. 

Rooster’s blood is boiling. 

“Fuck you mean? Look at her, Jake!” 

The strangled noise that falls out of Jake’s mouth is almost indistinguishable from something primal--feral. It’s a terrified sound, the scream of prey as it is mauled by predator. He knows he’s fucked. He knows he’s fucked you, too.

“‘Cause if they screen her, man…they’re gonna find more than just tequila and coke,” Jake admits, running his hands down his face. “Fuck.” 

“What’re they gonna find?” Rooster asks. He’s staring at Jake, his eyes bloodshot. “Fucking tell me!” 

“Acid, man,” Jake admits. “California Sunshine or some-some shit like that. Fuck, man, I took it, too. But I’m fine! We split one! But she’s gonna be in a whole lot of trouble if they find her pumped full of that shit.” 

“Bullshit!” Rooster hisses. “Everyone and their old lady does fucking dugs! Dennis knows that, he lets people--!”

“--Yeah, Dennis lets you take drugs on set in a controlled environment, man. Where you’re, like, under his supervision and authority! That’s the thing, man, that’s the fucking skinny--he don’t want other people to know about it.” 

Rooster’s back molars nearly crack under the wrath of his clenched jaw. 

“And, like, what’s gonna happen to some fucking bunny like Cherry if she’s gotta get her stomach pumped, like, four months into her career?” Jake argues. “No one’d fucking hire her again, man.” 

“No one has to!” Rooster argues. “Dennis has her on a--!”

Jake points an accusatory finger at Rooster. 

“--You know how he is, man! He don’t like you, well, you’re only filming four times this year! He’s got the fucking dough to get out of his contract with Cherry! She don’t! You know Dennis’d kill us if it leaked. And if he didn’t kill us, he’d kill her fucking career! And if, by some cosmic fuckin’ miracle, he was being a real coolhead about it all--yeah, he lets her finish it out. Then leaves her high and fucking dry! Who’ll take her then, huh? No one wants to hire a burnout!”

Rooster’s in a state of dysphoria. 

He can’t believe how much sense Jake is making right now, how sober these thoughts are--which is a sheer contrast from his appearance. Everything feels twisted, convoluted. Rooster’s supposed to be the one making sense right now. He’s supposed to be the one figuring it all out. But he can’t think about anything else when you’re shivering on the sofa.  

With a sense of dread seeping across his skin, he realizes that this is the closest he’s ever felt to when he was on the brown tabs at Woodstock--when he was living tangible nightmares every waking and non-waking moment, when nothing made sense. 

“We’d be fucking her,” Rooster says under his breath, eyes untrained. “Fuck.” 

So, without another word, Rooster falls to his knees beside you. You’re crumpled up, your body boneless and malleable in a way that makes his stomach turn. 

You’re still not really in your body--your body is tissue-thin and the color of fruit juice, waving in the wind like a paper kite. 

You’re not really here. 

“Cherry,” Rooster tries, holding your face firmly. “Cherry, wake up.” He pats your cheeks a few times, biting his lip hard, but you don’t come to. You’re thoroughly unconscious, being punctured by rays of sun wherever you are. “Cherry, baby, wake up. C’mon, babygirl, c’mon--open your eyes. Open your eyes, baby. Please, babygirl, you gotta.” 

He’s waiting for you to open your eyes like this is all some sort of joke. He wishes, for the first time ever, that you and Jake are pulling his leg. He doesn’t wanna be in on this joke at all. He wants, so desperately, to be on the outside of this for once. 

He knows he’s being desperate right now. This is what he did when his ma went--when he was still high as he came to, when he swore he’d only been asleep for an hour, just an hour, sitting up in that wooden chair, when the veins in his eyes throbbed, when he woke up and she was still--

“She won’t wake up, man,” Jake cries, chewing on his fingers. “Fuck, man. Fuck! Is she gonna fucking die? Oh, my God. Wait, fuck--is…is she dead?”

Rooster snaps his gaze at Jake, pointing at him tersely. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he bites at Jake. “Get your shit together. Take another fucking bump and change your threads. Go turn on the shower--cold water, alright? Then wait there for me.” 

Jake does as he’s told, sobbing as he runs down the hall, tugging his hair like an upset toddler.

“Cherry, I’m gonna grab you, alright?” Rooster says softly as if you can hear him. There’s not so much as a crease, a freckle, a dot of response across your features. “I gotcha, babygirl, c’mon.” 

And then he’s holding your form in his arms and you really do feel like deadweight--so much so that his knees feel weak, so much so that he almost cries out. But he can see the faintest twitch of your lips, the quietest words uttering from your mouth. He can’t make any of them out.  

“I gotcha, babygirl,” he promises again, starting for the bathroom. 

He won’t take his eyes away from your face, afraid to set his gaze anywhere but you, because when his ma left he wasn’t looking at her, because he fell asleep and he was so tired--

“C’mon,” Jake says shakily, grabbing Rooster’s shoulders and pulling him all the way into the bathroom--the light is golden in here, so bright that Rooster is blinking away tears. “Shower’s on.” 

Rooster, because he doesn’t trust the universe or guardian angels or fate or ancestors or luck to protect you like he can, steps into the frigid water as he is. The cold is a shock to his system, which he knows is the point, and he turns so the stream pelts your belly. 

“Cherry-berry,” Jake tries from outside the shower, reaching in to pat your cheek a few times. The only response is your limbs twitching from the cold, your body still totally slack in Rooster’s arms. “Get up, honey. C’mon, get up.” 

Bradley sinks to his knees, still holding you against his chest, his curls soaked with ice water and his clothes not far behind. He strokes your hair, his fingers numb with the cold of it all. 

“I’ve gotta make her vomit,” Rooster says sorrowfully, shaking his head. “She’s got too much shit in her system.”

“Fuck, man, she already hurled--!”

Rooster looks up at Jake, interrupts him with nothing but his blown pupils. 

“If you don’t have the stomach, get lost for a minute, okay? Get towels.” 

Jake listens at once, considering Bradley to be somewhat of a homebase right now. 

“Towels,” Jake mutters, wiping his nose again, turning towards the door and leaving the bathroom as he unbuttons his soiled shirt. “Fucking towels, man, towels.” 

Rooster presses desperate kisses to your temple, to your forehead in apology. He’s sorry that he didn’t go out with you, sorry that he’s got you under frigid water, sorry that’s about to do what he’s about to do. 

He props your body forward, droplets of water wetting your hair. And then he holds your cheeks, presses his thumb between your teeth, and shoves his fingers down your throat. 

☿

You’re not in your own bed. Without even opening your eyes, just by moving your bare feet on the sheets, you know that you’re in Rooster’s bed. It smells like him: expensive cologne, nice hair gel. He prefers silk sheets, too--you prefer velvet. Silk is always so cold--that’s why you have goosed skin right now, right down to your toes.

Everything hurts. This isn’t just a hangover kind of everything hurts--this is deeper, more serious. There’s a migraine pulsing behind your swollen eyes, throbbing your temples. Your limbs feel like they’ve been ripped off then reattached haphazardly with fishing wire. Your belly feels empty, which is usually how you like it to feel, but this is the kind of empty that frightens you--one that seeps into your chest cavity and sits there like a purring cat.  

Cracked lips parting just so, you open and close your mouth, the putrid taste of vomit sitting on your tongue like paste. 

Rooster’s been sitting in a chair beside his bed since five o’clock this morning, propping pillows behind you so you don’t roll onto your back and choke on vomit. He hasn’t so much as let his blinks linger, his gaze fixed on you entirely. 

Every thirty minutes, he leaned forward, set his index finger below your nostrils, and counted to twenty. Every hour, he rubbed his knuckles along your diaphragm to make sure your shoulders were still snapping forward like they should. Although he’s been out of practice for a long time, it still feels second nature to him.

Jake passed out sometime around noon, curled up around your feet like a kicked dog. He’s still asleep now, hugging your leg. He’s sober enough to feel guilty--but not fucked up enough to do anything about it.

You take a shaky breath, which feels stunted mid-inhale.

“Mm,” you mutter, swallowing hard. “Roo?”

His heart spikes--nearly busts through his chest.

Immediately, he’s crowding you. Kneeling on the bed, his heart pounding, he gives you a once-over without touching you. He’s almost afraid to lay a finger on you, just in case you don’t want to be touched, just in case you want to be alone in your body.  

“Cherry,” Rooster says, voice suddenly close to you, to your face. His breath wafts across your cheeks “You waking up, baby? C’mon--open your eyes. Lemme see ‘em, babygirl.” 

You know something’s wrong when you struggle to lift your heavy lids, when your lashes are matted with sand and tears and mascara. And it’s not the morning--it’s late in the day, maybe seven or eight in the evening. 

It’s an odd thing, waking up somewhere and realizing that you don’t know how you got there. It’s the first time it’s ever happened to you--you didn’t have a daddy that would carry you to your bedroom if you fell asleep on the sofa. Really, you didn’t have a mama that would let you fall asleep on the sofa. 

Before really even knowing it, you know that you’ve missed something crucial.

“Oh,” Rooster whispers, voice trembling. Your eyes meet his and there you are--his Cherry girl, alive. Your eyes are swollen and bloodshot but he can tell that you’re in there, can tell that you’re going to be okay. It’s the first time all day he’s known that you’re not gone for good. “Babygirl.”

His tongue is thick with tears that he won’t let out--not in front of you. Not until you’re okay and in your body and he’s alone. He doesn’t want to scare you. 

“Ow,” you just whisper. 

“S’alright,” he says softly. “I know, baby. I know.”

He wraps his hands around your fingers, which are cold. And with a sad, sad smile tugging on his lips, he brings your fingers to his mouth and blows hot air on them. You’re shaking still--probably withdrawing. 

If you had a voice right now, you’d ask what the fuck happened. But you can’t muster the strength to make those chords vibrate in your throat, can’t do anything except feel Rooster’s breath against your chipped fingernails.

Glancing down, you find Jake wrapped around one of your legs, blinking himself awake and groggily moving up to catch your gaze. 

“Oh, mama! Up and at ‘em!” Jake says, eyes widening when he realizes you’re lucid. “Oh, fuck, Cherry-berry. We thought you were a goner.” 

“Man, not the time,” Rooster hisses softly, kissing your knuckles. “Careful with her.”

Jake crawls up your body, careful not to put too much pressure on you, and peppers your warm face with some kisses. Rooster watches, still just holding your hand, still just relieved that you’re awake. 

Jake picks up your other hand, the one that is freezing to the touch. He kisses your ruby ring over and over again, like he always does in greeting, and you let your eyes slip shut again. 

Rooster’s just silently watching you, his lip tucked between his teeth, tears heavy on his waterline. There were a few moments throughout the night that he thought he was going to lose you--like actually lose you. He thought he was going to fall asleep, just like he did when his ma was sick, and wake up to your face entirely still and your heart stopped. 

He knows now--and he knew before, too, just couldn’t put words to it--that he won’t be able to live without you. Not in any capacity, in any universe, in any dimension. He knows it full and well as you struggle to swallow, as your brows knit, as your fingers tremble. 

“God, you were real nasty last night,” Jake says, muffled by your fingers. Rooster has half a mind to strike the back of his head, but then a pathetic and crackley laugh tumbles from your lips. “You hurled all over me! Ruined my shirt!”

Now you’re laughing a bit harder, wheezing, a few tears slipping from your eyes. 

Jake keens at this precious sound. It’s the only thing that can make him feel better right now, even as his fingers shake. This is the longest he’s been sober in months--and it’s just for you. 

“Made a mess on the entryway tile,” Rooster adds very quietly, an almost-there smile pushing his bottom lip. “And the couch. And the bed.” 

It hurts to laugh--there is a particularly deep ache in your diaphragm, like someone’s been punching you there all night long. 

“Ow,” you say again, pouting, but still giggling. 

It’s a pathetic sound. It makes Bradley’s chest ache. So, he nudges Jake and then shakes his head at him. No more. 

“Sorry, babygirl,” Rooster says, stroking your matted hair from your face. “No more goofing, huh?” 

☿

Jake leaves around midnight. He kisses your face all over, presses his forehead to your temple, attaches his lips to the shell of your ear and whispers, “Don’t ever do that to me again, okay?” And as he’s walking out of the house, he passes your ruby ring sitting on the entryway table--Rooster put it there while you bathed. Not confiscating it, but maybe hiding it. 

Jake palms it, stuffs it in the pocket of his jeans, and drives home in the quiet of the late night. If you ask him if he’s seen it, he’s not going to lie to you. He’ll give it back. Just not until you verbalize your want to him. It makes that pit in his belly fill up with tissue paper--dissolvable, fleeting. But still there. 

Rooster’s sitting up against his headboard, right underneath the Joni Mitchell painting, and you’re hugging his legs, cheek pressed against the familiar terrain of his thighs. You feel a bit better now after having showered and ate, hair still wet and belly full of chicken broth. But you still don’t feel good--not by a longshot. 

Rooster’s just about ready to keel over. It’s been over twenty-four hours since he’s slept and every follicle of hair on his head, every nerve in his being, can feel it. He’s absently stroking your damp hair, eyes drooping, heart lulling. 

But he won’t let himself fall asleep. 

“Did I scare you something awful?” You whisper. 

He nods--you feel it. 

It’s quiet for a few minutes. He’s just stroking your hair, relishing in the steady breaths falling from your vaseline-smeared lips. 

“My chest hurts,” you tell him quietly. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. He reaches down, lets his fingers just barely graze your diaphragm--your shoulders still come together anyway. There are bruises where he pressed his knuckles--he feels guilty about it, but not guilty enough to have changed anything. “Had to make sure you were still in there.”

“It’s groovy, daddy.” 

Another lull falls over the two of you. 

You’re thinking hard about what happened before it all went dark, before you were just a paper kite floating over black poppies. You don’t think you were in your body. You don’t know where you were, you don’t know how you got back, but you’re glad that you are now. You don’t know what you would do if you could never be here again, on Rooster’s lap, in his bed. 

“It’s what I did with my ma,” he says quietly. He doesn’t know why he’s telling you this--maybe because he’s on the verge of sleep, maybe because he just needs you to know. “Like, it’s how I’d figure out if she fainted or if we had to skitty on to the hospital.” 

Swallowing hard, you nod. 

“You didn’t take me,” you whisper. 

“No, we didn’t.” 

“Why?” 

Rooster inhales deeply--tries to feel anything but tired, but can’t seem to--then cups your swollen cheek. 

“Worried you’d wake up without a job,” he tells you. “Who’s gonna hire a bunny that got her stomach pumped less than a year in, huh?” 

It makes you feel very young. So young that tears start to well in your eyes. 

“Guess I was pretty much a space cadet then,” you say, sniffling. “Shouldn’t have done what I did.” 

“Everyone does shit, Cherry.” 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “But not everyone’s got a Daddy Warbucks to make them barf up all their mistakes.” 

For the first time in hours, Rooster smiles softly. 

“I told you I’m gonna take care of you,” he says. He clears his throat, takes a composing breath. “I should’ve taken a rain check with Nix. Shouldn’t’ve let you go out with Hangman alone.” 

God, Phoenix. You forget that’s how this entire mess started. When you were envious at the thought of them touching each other, when you went to the disco with a sore body and a hunger for anything that would make you feel better, different. 

“Nah,” you whisper. “Would’ve taken the tabs anyway.”

“I don’t think it was the tabs,” Rooster tells you quietly. “Think some chump slipped you something.” 

Wrinkling your nose, you glance up at him. 

“Like what?” 

You know that he must not be talking about coke--you already had a fair bit of it in your system. 

Rooster doesn’t know how to explain it to you. He doesn’t know how to tell you that someone slipped something in your drink in the hopes that they could finish tearing your dress, drag you off and away from Jake, and have their way with you. It’s hard for him to even think it--he’s frustrated, his jaw clenching, his knuckles white. 

“Nothing,” he tells you. “Forget it, huh?” 

You’re too tired to argue, so you nod. 

“Alright,” you whisper. 

If he closed his eyes right now, he knows he’d be asleep in seconds. So, he just keeps his gaze trained on you, on your sweet and sad form holding onto his legs. 

“What am I gonna do?” He whispers. 

He’s not even sure that he’s said it outloud. He’s not sure if he’s meant to say it aloud.

You don’t look up at him, your own eyes slipped shut now. 

“What’re you talking about?” 

“How am I gonna keep you safe if I’m not right next to you?” He asks softly. He doesn’t really expect you to answer him--but he has to say it aloud. “How am I gonna live with myself now?” 

Hugging him tighter to you, you kiss his thighs a few times. 

“Stop,” you whisper. “Don’t.” 

His tongue is dry. 

“Baby,” he whispers. “You were really sick.” 

“I know,” you mutter. “You got me.” 

He doesn’t know how to articulate to you that he would rather relive the worst day of his life--the day his ma died--a thousand times than not know if you were going to make it through the night. Not because he loves his ma any less than he loves you--but because her death seems predestined, even now. The cancer was always there, watching and waiting. But you’re so young, so full of love that it wedges itself between your ribs and underneath your fingernails. 

“But I didn’t,” he whispers. “I didn’t…Cherry, I didn’t have you.” 

Now you look up at him, your face sponged clean of mascara and vomit, and really see him for the first time since the two of you laid down together. He’s tired, like the kind of dead-tired your daddy used to be in the winter after doing barn chores. His eyes are red and drooping, there are purple bags touching his lower lashline, and there are very nearly tears rolling down his cheeks. His lips are twisted and his brows are drawn together.

 This is the purest expression of anguish you’ve ever seen on anyone’s face before.

Chewing on your lip, still feeling too weak to do anything but lay here, you reach up and carefully finger the gold chain he always wears. Your teeth have touched this--chewed on it, clamped down. It brings you comfort the same way a baby blanket would. 

“I’m good,” you tell him, voice thin. “We’ve got each other, huh?” 

He shakes his head, sniffling hard, ready to break down entirely. 

“I was so scared,” he tells you. His voice is wobbling, his fingers trembling. “God, I was so scared that-that I’d fall asleep.” 

Brows knit, you shake your head. 

“Why’s that give you the willies?”

Two fat tears stream down his face--he can’t stop them anymore, can’t take them back. He’s desperately stroking your face, sniffling. 

“‘Cause I was only asleep for an hour when she left,” he cries softly. He knows, really, that you probably don’t understand what he means. He knows that. But he’s so worked up now, so upset, so fucking tired, that he can’t stop. “I was right there. I couldn’t hear her.”

“Who?” You whisper. The fear in your bones tells you that you already know. 

“My ma,” he whispers. 

And then he breaks down entirely. It’s the kind of breakdown toddlers have when they’re over-tired. His cheeks are pink and his sobs are choked. There’s snot dribbling down his face and his tears are fat and hot. 

You’re holding onto him, kissing his skin, unable to get yourself to sit up. And he’s leaning over, hugging your torso close, pressing his wet face just beside yours. 

“Roo,” you whisper to him. “Roo, everything’s chill now, honey. We’re all good. It’s okay.” 

He can’t stop, though--a spigot that has broken. 

“Don’t ever fuckin’ leave me,” he mutters to you. 

You shake your head. 

“Won’t,” you simply utter. 

“Don’t die before me, okay?” He says very seriously. “Don’t fucking die before me.”

Your skin gooses. You’re not sure what to say, how to agree. So, you just nod. 

“Okay,” you whisper. “Swear it.” 

And because you’re not sure what to do, you wipe his face with your hands, not caring about snot or tears or heat or skin. And you kiss his hair, inhale all that familiar scent of his that you feel like you could drown in. 

Then you unclasp his gold chain take it off his throat. He takes only a moment to register that you’ve done it, lifting his head slightly. But then you’re handing it to him and turning away, silently signaling to him that he must put it on you. 

He does so silently, careful to move your hair out of the way before he clasps it. 

Then you turn back to look at him, holding his cheek. The chain is still warm from his skin and it sits loosely around your neck, falling into the hollow of your throat as you gaze up at him. 

“Your halo,” you mumble. “It’ll protect me, huh?” 

His heart squeezes. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, sniffling. He tries to compose himself as you wipe his face clean again, kissing his flushed skin. “It will.” 

The chain was his father’s. One of the only things he got of his, one of the only things that survived the arduous task of time. He wasn’t wearing it when he died--Rooster thinks that must mean something. 

“C’mere,” you insist. 

It’s the kindest thing you’ve ever done for Rooster. You move your sore body so you’re laying on the pillows, pull his large body up beside you, and spoon him. Face pressed against his neck, feet against his calves, hips connected, you press kisses down his shoulders. 

He hasn’t been held in a very long time. So long that it doesn’t really feel real that this is happening. But all the same, he sinks into the water bed, counts every single one of your heartbeats, and melts into the mattress. 

“Hold onto me,” you whisper quietly. 

Just the same, it’s been a long time since you’ve asked to be held.

He moves his arm behind him, wraps it awkwardly around your hips, and lets his grip rest on your lower back. 

“Don’t die,” Rooster whispers, slurred with sleep. 

It’s an odd thing to say--kind of funny, but also not at all. He’s being serious. You know that. 

“I won’t,” you whisper. 

“Don’t,” he says again, almost entirely asleep now. “I won’t live.” 

“Shh,” you mutter. 

And when he’s asleep, heat pouring off his body like a radiator and his body heavy against yours, you stay awake for a long time just being alive. 

You’re keeping your promise.  

☿ 𝐚/𝐧: listening to Halo by Beyonce brb

☿ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

☿ 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠

☿ 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐳-𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐬

[deadmallwasteland]

what's in ☿'s hand?

don't ask where he got that...