#It died on impact at least... I checked.

[prolibytherium]

Bro I just roadkilled something for the first time in my life (a young deer no less) AND it was while I was singing along to my favorite The Who song, so now I'm going to forever associate their classic anthem about how uniquely harrowing it is to be a man who is sad while having blue eyes with needless and wasteful deer slaughter

[wintersettled]

i am once again thinking about the hilichurl rogue :(

the first time i fought it was actually yesterday after climbing a mountain in fontaine cause i wanted to see what it was and the drops really reminded me of neanderthal flower burials + how both neanderthals and hilichurls are/have been seen as primitive beings despite tons of evidence to the contrary (ignoring what we know about khaenri'ah since the curse of the wild seems to cause them to be catatonic for a period of time).

theres tons of literature on how neanderthals actually appear to be similar to homo sapiens and have higher mental functioning as evidenced through their tools, their presumed social structures (taking care of injured/disabled neanderthals rather than abandoning them as would be thought of beings focused only on survival), but most notably for this the evidence of "flower burials" at Shanidar.

Basically, two neanderthals were found buried in primarily medicinal flowers (indicating their possible role in their group). I believe there were 11(?) other neanderthals found there who appeared to have been crushed by rockfall whos ages (if my memory is correct) were from around 7 to mid 40s. The reason i bring this up is because of one of the flowers found at Shanidar: Achillea/Yarrows. I find these flowers to be fairly similar in appearance of the petals (excluding size) to the hilichurl rogues drops

Now, each drops description:

A Flower Yet to Bloom "a wildflower that a hilichurl rogue treasured. it was plucked before it could bloom. the hilichurl takes nothing with it in its sojourn across the wilderness save this flower."

Treasured Flower "a wild flower that a hilichurl picked bereft of any special qualities. flowers can be used as gifts or offerings to express ones feelings in many cultures"

for this description in specific i would actually like to quote Ralph S Solecki's "The Implications of the Shanidar Cave Neanderthal Flower Burial"

"Under normal circumstances, today, in many cultures, flowers and death go together, as one can see a funeral corteges and burials. The association of flowers as tokens of esteem, respect, or for the joy of looking at [...]. According to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, 'the flower has been a universal symbol of beauty in the civilizations of the world. Confucius included its cultivation among the arts that were essential to a man of culture.' We pride ourselves thinking that we know a lot about Neanderthal man, but the association of flowers with Neanderthals adds a whole new dimension to our knowledge of him, and his humanistic nature."

Wanderer's Blooming Flower "a blooming wild flower that a hilichurl rogue treasured, bereft of any special qualities. the eternal outlander asks not for reward, but only to see their deeds come to fruition"

TLDR (abstract lol); hilichurl rogue drops remind me of the neanderthal flower burials found at shanidar

below the cutoff are some sources if you want to do further reading on neanderthals

(im not an anthropologist or even studying it btw but here are some articles on neanderthals i used for a bibliography on neanderthal spirituality in an anth class last winter in case you want to read up on it, theyre formatted in SAA kinda)

Appenzeller, Tim

     2013    Neanderthal Culture: Old Masters. Nature 497:302-304. 

Hochadel, Oliver

     2020    The Flower People of Shanidar: Telling a New Tale of Neanderthal Brothers. In 

Narratives and Comparisons, edited by Martin Carrier, Rebecca Mertens, and Carsen Reinhardt, pp. 99-122. Bielefeld University Press, Bielefeld. https://doi.org/10.14361/9783839454152-005

Mitchell, Mary Shirley

    2021   Geoarchaeological Methods and the Intentionality of Neanderthal Burial. Furthering

Perspectives 11:29-41. https://mountainscholar.org/bitstream/handle/10217/233626/JOUF_FurtheringPerspectives_vol10.pdf?sequence=1#page=29

Morris-Kay, Gillian M. 

    2010    The Evolution of Human Artistic Creativity. Journal of Anatomy 216:158-176. 

Pomeroy, Emma, Paul Bennett, Chris O. Hunt, Tim Reynolds, Lucy Farr, and Marine Frouin

    2020      New Neanderthal Remains Associated with the ‘Flower Burial’ at Shanidar

Cave. Antiquity 94:11-26. http://dx.doi.org/10.15184/aqy.2019.207

[chocogoldie]

Love Slip

bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contains: established relationship, a bit suggestive at one point

short continuation of Nip Slip 18+

It's been a while since the two of you started dating. Approximately three months, two days and forty-three minutes. But who's keeping count?

During your time together, you've come to learn many things about the blond ticking time bomb:

One, he's a very organized and clean guy. He has to-do lists separated into categories in his phones' notepad app, a strict schedule he follows everyday to stay in shape — not that he needs it, but getting to brag about being able to lift you up certainly strokes his ego — and an extremely neat room that stays neat no matter what. He brushes his teeth three times a day, eats healthy meals, has a proper skincare routine and smells of sweet caramel even when he's dripping with sweat coming back from the gym or from an intense training session with your classmates. ln short, his hygiene is top notch.

Two, he's a little bit of a gym freak. Not that you'd ever mind, you even find it hot most of the time, but sometimes he gets provoked by his other gym buddies, mainly Kirishima and Kaminari, to try out all sorts of exercises with you on his back. Push-ups, squats, even yoga poses, literally anything they can think of just to see if it'd work. You've fallen on your ass more than he'd like, or care, to admit. Not because he wasn't strong, no, but because you cannot concentrate on holding onto him for the life of you, always getting distracted by the way his muscles flex and how he grunts from exertion. It's a sight for sore eyes, strands of hair sticking to his forehead while his usually spiky hair dampens and falls down beautifully, framing his face. It reminds you of your first night together, so of course you wouldn't be able to pay attention to anything else. You don't mention how incredibly good he looks in his compression shirts. Yes, he bought multiple after you oggled him up and hinted at loving the way they fit muscly men.

And last but not least, he's clingier than anyone you've ever met which is a stark, and quite frankly adorable, contrast to his sharp appearance. You're working on some assignments? He's bringing you food and making himself comfortable on your bed while putting on a weird dating show on the TV, occasionally checking up on you to remind you to take breaks. You're going for a quick grocery run? He doesn't waste a second to throw on whatever clothes he can find and join you, walking around the store with the shopping cart and imagining you two as a married couple well into your marriage shopping for your little family. You're taking a bath? Scooch over, he's helping you wash your hair and back. You're feeling sad? He's bringing your favorite ice cream and listening to you vent while gently running his hands over your face, back, thighs, arms, anywhere to soothe you. He cradles your face when your sobbing gets louder, pressing his forehead against yours to help ground you into reality, to snap yourself out of your worries by murmuring “I'm here, baby,” or “I got you”. All in all, he's a big softie for you.

He often shows his affection through his actions, but sometimes when the two of you are alone and in the silence of your bedrooms, he pushes his embarrassment aside and spills his heart out. He vents about hero work, about how he doesn't think he's good enough, or rather, nice enough to be a hero, always ending up berating people to hide his true intentions and words. It's something he's always struggled with, but he's been working on it constantly with you, his friends, and in therapy. He tells you everything about what happened during his time in highschool, how the man literally died for a minute, and how much that impacted his life onwards. You listen intently and comfort him through it, crushing him into a tight embrace to remind him you're there for him as well and that you'd do anything to make him happy. He tells you that your presence is enough.

He whispers soft “I love you”'s each night before you two drift off to sleep, letting his hand rest on the small of your back underneath your shirt, needing to feel your skin against his to be able to sleep. The warmth your body provides gets rid of his reoccurring nightmares and allows him to sleep soundly throughout the night with you by his side. And he very quickly realizes he never wants to lose you. Ever.

Because he might've slipped into having a little crush on you, but he willingly chose to fall in love with you.

© chocogoldie 2024. do not translate, copy, or repost.

a/n: a little smth i came up with while waiting for the poll to finish :3 hope u enjoyed it! not proofread

[sttoru]

toji making suggestive comments towards reader infront of newborn megumi, then reader getting mad at him telling him to never do it again 😭😭

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff + suggestive themes. reader gets called ‘mama’.

“don’t start.”

you knew it — just by taking one glance at your husband from your seat at the couch — you knew toji was up to no good. his hands in the pockets of his shorts, eyes half lidded whilst checking you out and the corner of his lip curled up into a menacing grin; he was seconds away from making inappropriate comments about you, to you.

“ain’t said nothin’ yet.” toji shrugs, smirk still in place. he sits down next to you on the couch and looks down at the baby who was curled up on your chest.

it was an adorable picture; to see the mother of his child being so nurturing and caring, so loving and content. it was an every day sight, yet those mundane moments intensified the urge to take you to the bedroom and shower you with his. . . affection.

megumi babbles something in the meantime, his saliva creating a wet spot on your shirt — which you don’t mind since you’ve gotten used to it, “what is it, ‘gumi? hmm? cutie.”

you giggle and tickle your little son gently. your focus was entirely on him instead of toji, who had already snuck an arm around your waist by the time you realised the proximity. his breath tickled your ear;

“you look so fuckin’ sexy right now, mama.”

you gasp in response. not at the seductive and flirtatious words your husband had whispered, but rather at the fact that he cussed in front of megumi. you made it a household rule — to try and swear less in front of your child. and yet there toji goes, breaking that rule a week after its made.

“toji. what’d i say about cussing in front of your child?” you warn with a glare, but that does nothing more than turn toji on more. he loved it when you bossed him around or had an attitude.

megumi’s babbles and coos had died down eventually. he was more engrossed by the way his parents were interacting in front of him. you didn’t seem as ‘happy’ with toji’s words, however, and that made the emergency alarms in the little baby’s head go off;

“bwah! bwah!” megumi’s smacks toji’s thigh with his tiny hand. the impact wasn’t rough, but the sound of the slap on toji’s bare skin sure made it seem like it was.

you grin as megumi comes to your ‘rescue’. the small slaps didn’t seem to stop until toji gave up and defeatedly redrew from you—scooting just a few inches away from his son and wife.

“got what you deserved.” you lightheartedly comment to your husband. megumi didn’t seem to stop there; the kid sticks his tongue out towards his father’s direction for a split second—rubbing salt into the wound.

“watch it, megumi. i’ll fight ya if it means i get y’r mommy’s attention.” the dark-haired man jokes with a smirk tugging at his lips, his fist gently and carefully making contact with megumi’s chubby cheek. the little boy huffs and instantly tries to nibble onto toji’s knuckles, which was incredibly adorable.

“oh-ho? seems like i finally have an opponent worth fighting. .” toji comments before lifting his hands up in the air, fingers bent at the knuckles, teeth bared — re-enacting a scary monster creature of some kind,

you watch the two with amusement; megumi wasn’t backing down at all and was flailing his arms in the air as toji slowly approaches him again, making tiny noises in protest. your husband was also making some noises, though less. . . cute. his were more growling like—it showed the dedication to his role, at least.

“got’cha! c’mere,” toji grins as he suddenly grabs and lifts megumi up in the air; putting him in air-jail as he likes to call it. the baby kicks and squeals, trying its best to get out, “now—are ya gonna let me show mama some affection or should we do this the hard way?”

megumi protests once more like he actually knows what was said to him and kicks his legs frantically, causing both toji and you to laugh at your baby’s antics.

you sat back and watch the two go back and forth like that for a good while, enjoying the moment. you felt all giddy seeing them interact and wanted nothing more than to kiss and cuddle with both.

and of course, you wished that precious moments like these would never come to an end any tjme soon.

[hoodielord]

Green eyes in the fear fog.

For half a second, Steph thought today would be a decent day. But no, not in Gotham.

Steph's current events professor, who was also the head of student affairs, had offered extra credit to help give college tours. Look, she had to take the extra credit she had to, even if it meant that she had to be a tour guide. It wasn't hard, just annoying.

The group was small, only five people, but two of them stuck out. A brother and sister. The brother was the definition of adoption bait blue eyes, black hair, vigilante tendencies withholding. The sister was at least as tall as Jason. She had orange hair just like Babs, you'd think they were related.

Anyways, Steph's new mission was to make sure the kid and Dick never met. The kid would not stop making puns. Some of them earned him a laugh but some earned him a smack from his sister.

"Aw, come on, Jazz, it was funny."

"You can do better." she shrugged.

" Sounds like a challenge." A wicked smirk appeared on his face.

" Danny, please don't."

"Challenge accepted."

Yep, I'm definitely keeping him away from Dick.

But something was off about them other than looking at the crime capital's university. They could probably be metahumans. Their eyes seemed to slightly glow blue. They carried themselves as they had already expected danger. I mean, it pays to be prepared, especially in Gotham, but they aren't from here.

If the siblings weren't already on a list B has they should be now. Jazz had been almost ecstatic when we were moving through the psychology department. Danny was practically bouncing off the walls when it was time to go through the engineering and physics departments. Definitely should keep an eye on them.

It was reaching the end of the tour in the cafeteria. Another weird thing about the siblings was their reaction to food. They seemed to have this sort of optimistic curiosity like they were happy to have food to eat, but at the same time, they were poking to make sure it wouldn't attack or something.

Talking with the siblings was interesting too. Danny was buzzing about the engineering department. He went into a great rant about a project that Wayne Enterprises was working on in the aerospace engineering division. Maybe she should keep him away from Tim, too.

The conversation died quickly when a shriek rang out from down the hall. Steph turned quickly to see green fear toxin fill the cafeteria. Swarms of people ran for the exits knocking each over. She quickly dug through her bag and pulled out her gas masks, one for her and her backup.

"Jazz? Jazz, where did you go?" Danny called. They must have gotten separated.

Damn, she needed another one for the siblings. She shoved her spare into Danny's hands.

" Put the mask on and head for the exit."

"But I need to find Jazz."

"I'll find her. Put the mask on and go." Steph yelled as she went further into the fog. Quickly, she sent an alert to Oracle. Signal is on patrol right now, but more bats might show up.

It was dense she could barely see in front of her. There was some noise up ahead. Someone was screaming. The yelling grew louder as she rounded the corner.

"Stop! Get away!"

It was Jazz. She was practically growling. Her fist slammed into the concrete wall, leaving a deep impact. She was clearly affected by the Fear gas. A meta affected with fear gas, not good.

"Stop! Don't hurt him. He's not a monster! He's my little brother!" Jazz had gone from fury to sadness as she practically begged for her hallucination to stop haunting her.

If it wasn’t the meta thing it was whatever she was hallucinating that caught Steph’s attention. Definitely on B's list now.

"Isn't it interesting what fear does to the mind?"

Steph saw Scarecrow emerge from the fog.

"I saw you in the psychology department. Your eyes lit up like a fire. But now they are clouded with fear."

A chill went up Steph's spine. She quickly checked her mask for leaks but didn't have any. Turning her attention back to Jazz and Scarecrow, she saw something. Green eyes shifted inside the fog. They looked like a predator hunting its prey. For a second, they look like Jason's.

From behind Scarecrow, the eyes stopped, and a figure emerged. A baseball bat slammed into Scarecrow's face, knocking him to the floor. The figure came into full view now. It was Danny his eyes were glowing green.

He knelt down to Scarecrow.

"You really don't have any brains. Do you Scarecrow? If you did, you wouldn't have hurt my sister." His voice was downright, frigid.

He turned and rushed over to Jazz who was still trying to convince her hallucinations to stop.

"Jazz, it's okay. Come on, I'm fine. It's okay." His voice was soft and gentle as he helped her up. Jazz mumbled a little as she stumbled down the hall.

Steph quickly caught up to the siblings slinging Jazz's arm over her shoulder.

"Sorry, I couldn't help earlier," Steph spoke quietly.

"It's fine. Not everybody can be a hero."

Steph wanted to laugh at the irony of that statement, but she just nodded.

"Sorry about the tour too."

"It wasn't all bad."

" Oh, the rouge attack and poisoning wasn’t bad?" Steph asked sarcastically.

" Our hometown is haunted and our community college is funded by my godfather. And he is a rich fruit loop.”

‘Ghosts?’

“You know Gotham University is funded by Wayne Enterprises right?”

“Annoying crazy fruit loop or weird himbo? Hmmm. Yeah, I’m going to have to go with the himbo on this one.”

Steph laughed at that one. Bruce is going to want to hear about this but she’ll keep him away from these siblings for a little while.

[crystalflygeo]

Kinktober Day 2 - Shibari ft Alhaitham (Genshin Impact)

Google hishi karada under your own risk. That's it. That's the inspiration and GODS I want that hello????//HIT This one ended up longer than expected but also can you believe I wrote almost all of it on the bus/train omw home?? NICE

“Just saying, it’s an interesting use of the House of Daena’s resources. Coming from you, at least.” Alhaitham speaks nonchalantly, eyes glued to the book he’s holding in one hand as the other is currently held by you, crisscrossing red rope in a rather complex pattern as you glance back and forth at the book in your lap.

You give no answer, concentrated in your work. The rope draws lines and presses knots along his bicep, crossing over around the elbow and following down to his wrist.

Not too tight as to hurt.

Your brow frowns with little expression lines as you maneuver the rope into the last knot. This goes here, then pull there, cross here and tighten a little…

“There we go! What do you think?” You smile proudly scooting back a little, hands by your hips.

The Scribe finally diverts his attention from the calculus book he’s reading and looks at his arm with genuine interest, his green and terracotta gaze appraising. 

He flexes his arm a little, testing the give, and tilts his head just slightly as he looks at the pattern from different angles.

“How honest do you want me to be?” He asks simply. It’s a little game you two have.

“Um… 7? 8? It’s my first time, don't be too harsh” You reply with a little pout and puppy dog eyes.

He sighs. As if he could ever live with himself if he made you upset. “It’s not bad at all for a first time. The rope feels a little loose at some parts and the design is not fully uniform but the knots seem sturdy and well-executed. Perhaps you could have picked a simpler design however this one came through really well.” He assesses, sounding a little too much like a teacher but that’s why you find him endearing. Alhaitham is honest and direct. 

“Really? I’m happy then” You beam. “I picked this one because I thought the diamond pattern was pretty… and it kinda fits you” You giggle, turning to the book and gesturing at the drawings and diagrams, blushing a little.

Alhaitham knows how to read between lines. Clearly, you have pictured him tied up like this.

Or perhaps… yourself?

“May I try now?” He asks suddenly, closing his book and setting it aside.

“H-huh?” 

“A fair trade, I was your guinea pig, so now you’ll be mine. And you’ve caught my interest with this.” He says with a casual shrug. His expression as stoic as ever, in a way that no one could read his thoughts.

But you know him better than anyone, and you catch that little glint in his eye. 

“Sure… of course.” You nod dumbfounded.

The two of you undo the knots around his arm and you gather together the strings of rope. Alhaitham picks up the book and quickly flips through the pages with a certain decisiveness. 

He suddenly stops, thinks for a moment, his hand smoothing out the page. “Are you ok with a full chest harness?” 

“Um?” You scoot over and glance at the book. It’s a beautiful design. Doesn’t look too overly complicated but you have learned they can be deceiving in practice. 

It has a diamond design too.

“Ok, I have no issue.” You nod. 

He places the book close by, picks a rope checking the length and starts working. He first loops it around your neck and slowly starts weaving the strands. This one requires almost no knots it seems, just the rope pulling on itself from different angles to keep it balanced and create the diamond shapes.

You watch silently, the scribe checks with you on every step, if it’s too tight, hurting or pulling at something. You shake your head every time. He diligently creates the wrapping around your chest and down your tummy and hips. 

It’s hypnotizing, soothing in a way, but also has your nerves alight. 

Finally he reaches the spot around your crotch and you suddenly feel hyperaware as he loops the rope around your inner thighs, digging on the delicate skin of your groin. The ropes crumple at the skirt of your dress.

You squirm a bit as he ties the final knot behind you. Bringing everything together and securing it. “There, all done.” He declares pulling back a little. “I must admit I’m impressed, looks even better than I expected.” 

You move around and test his handiwork. The rope is snug on your skin, thigh enough it will surely leave light marks for a while, but not enough to be painful or chafe your skin. The sensation is… comfortable, flexible. But also so… noticeable. You feel the slight pressure of them, the teasing pull. They’re just there, impossible to ignore, binding you. And you can see the erotic appeal.

Reverent hands ghost over the patterns of ropes going around your body, teasing you with feather-light touches. ‘Adjusting’ here and there, meticulous, bushing at your chest or pulling at your neck. 

“Alhaitham…” You whine. Keenly aware of your nipples hardening.

“You know, I could loop some more rope going from the back and bind your arms too. Or… add a similar tie at your legs… keeping your thighs and calves together and your legs spread. This diamond pattern has many varieties.”

And so, it dawns on you.

“Y-you… have you read about this before?” 

He chuckles, hands smoothing over your legs as he leans closer to you. “Yes. In fact… I borrowed this exact same book once.” He smirks “When I saw you with it, I knew I simply had to try this tie on you. It rather captivated me back then… but it captivates me much more on you.” 

His thumb rubs over the damp spot in your panties and you squeak, hips bucking.

“Bastard. Mean. Evil. Y-you lied to me!” You sputter, flushed and worked up at having fallen in his trap. Clearly he had planned this from the start and here you are now, all tied up like his prey. His little prize. 

His hand tilts your chin up towards him, his face close making your cheeks even warmer. “I did no such thing.” He says, sounding a little playful even. “Nothing of what I said was untrue, and especially not the part about you looking absolutely enthralling like this.” His eyes roam over your figure, and this time, you see the hunger. 

his fingers hook on the rope between your breasts and he pulls you into his lap.

“Perhaps I should keep you like this for a little longer…”

[fancyfeathers]

Yandere Capitano thought

Genshin Impact 5.1 Archon Quest Spoiler Warning

So in act four of the Archon Quest we see that whole war and just the devastation it has on Natlan, over two thousand people who could not be resurrected. With Capitano lending his and his subordinates strength to the Pyro Archon it is only natural that he sees some of the most terrible of things in this war, including a very harrowing sight after he cleared out another group of monsters from the Abyss. It was near a remote farm house and he was going to help them evacuate to the stadium but he was far too late. When he goes to check the house everyone was dead, not a soul around except a young woman.

She was clearly not a fighter, crying, shaking and curled up in a corner while covered in the blood of her family. The image of this just sends him back five hundred years to all the people he could not protect, and this poor thing did not ask to be born in the nation of war and she clearly wants little to do with the traditions of her people with the pilgrimage and the night warden wars, so why should she be here?

The Captain does not have much time to dwell on her in the moment, just picking up the shocked girl and handing her off to his subordinates to get her to safety. Capitano had saved hundreds of people by that point but the people of Natlan had courage and she clearly did not, it just struck a chord with him.

He does not see her again until it is all over, while people are celebrating their victory, she is alone with no where to go and no one to be with, they were all dead. She is just sitting by herself while everyone else who fought is at least somewhat happy with their victory. Then Capitano overhears the words she speaks to another, one of the new heroes or perhaps the Archon herself…

“I wish I died with them.”

Her friends had started their future…

Her brothers and sisters were married or had their partners…

Her parents had each other…

But she has no one…

She is the only one left to mourn what happened to them, and no one there is there to truly comfort her because everyone else is busy or counting their own losses.

The Captain is able to recognize her potential self destructive behavior and is smart enough to have his subordinates keep a close eye on her after he heard that because there is just something about her…

Then the next time he sees her is when one of his subordinates drags her to him, she is crying and yelling at them to let her go and at first the Captain is irritated that his subordinate would handle her like this, well that is until he is told what happened.

She tried to join her family…

In death.

In her mind she has nothing left to live for, but thanks to this the Captain has found his something to give his life true meaning again, to protect her from rotting away.

(Just when I was adding the tags to this I remembered the song Flowers from Hadestown and it just fits so well with this idea)

[the-modern-typewriter]

Weapon. They needed a weapon. Unfortunately, all they could come up with was an ancient torchstick that wasn't even on fire.

They hefted up the torch anyway, heart trapped somewhere in their throat, and backed up another step.

Three of the undead lurched towards them. They had the swords, the bastards. They were probably actual fighters too, once, not little idiots who should have died before ever being dragged to this nightmare place.

Maybe they'd get lucky. Maybe the torch would be sufficiently stake-like.

Given the terrible slurping noises the protagonist had heard behind them as they scrambled out of the ancient temple, the screaming that went quiet, they didn't think they'd get lucky. Maybe it was karma.

"Careful now," came a voice. Less raspy, more silken, more alive - but not one that the protagonist recognised. "If you back up any further, you're going to tumble right off the cliff. And wouldn't that be a waste?"

The protagonist didn't dare glance behind them to check if it was true, but they couldn't stop their attention from flicking up.

The beautiful stranger lounged a top of the great door, hastily locked again, watching. They waggled their fingers in a 'hi'.

Maybe falling off a cliff wouldn't be so bad, given the alternative. The protagonist still didn't want to die. Stupidly, they didn't want to die.

The undead lunged for the protagonist's throat.

The protagonist swung the torch wildly. It impacted. It just...didn't do anything. It would have at least winded and doubled over an actual person. But the undead...

The stranger leapt down, landing cat-like in the fray. They had none of the frantic movements of some of the lesser undead; ravenous and rabid.

They clicked their tongue and the undead all stopped, eyeing the two of them warily. They skittered back from the stranger.

The stranger pulled the sword from their own belt and offered it, hilt first, to the protagonist.

"Duel wield?" they offered. "Bit more of a fair fight."

It wasn't remotely, but the protagonist would still take it, with trembling fingers.

The stranger smiled at them. all sharp teeth and searing crimson eyes. They bowed their head. Then they stepped smartly out of the way again and the undead once more advanced.

It went a little better with an actual sword. The three undead were - if not dead - no longer capable of mauling the protagonist's throat. It wasn't good enough.

The protagonist crumbled to their knees, gasping in pain. They clutched the sword loosely in their hand. They touched a hand to their shoulder. Bloodied. Burdened with teeth marks. Their vision swam.

The stranger stopped in front of them, still smiling.

The great door rumbled with the force of bodies slamming against it, trying to get out. The protagonist very much doubted anyone in there was still alive in the traditional sense.

"This is fitting," the stranger said, gesturing at them. "I like this."

Dizzy, the protagonist lurched off their knees and lunged again, as clumsy as the undead had been. They certainly couldn't just wait to die.

The stranger merely stepped aside and let the protagonist stagger a step, before swiping their legs out from beneath them.

The protagonist hit the ground hard. The sword clattered out of their hand. The stranger plucked it up, tucking it neatly back into their holster.

"Who are you?" the protagonist managed. They began to push themselves up again.

"You woke me up. In the temple."

The protagonist swore quietly. "Yeah - about that -"

"-I thought the prophesied one would be a better fighter. Less willing to spill their magical blood. You are them, aren't you?"

"No."

The stranger laughed softly, delighted, and grabbed the back of the protagonist's neck, like scruffing a misbehaving kitten. "You're pathetic." They sounded entirely too endeared by this fact. "Come on." They dragged the protagonist bodily away from the cliff edge, past the bodies of the undead, back towards the terrible, terrible door.

The protagonist thrashed.

Predictably, it did no good. In fact, it did the precise opposite as they left blood in the dirt and the three bloody undead began to heal before their eyes.

The stranger deposited them with startling gentleness on their knees again. They stroked their fingers through the protagonist's hair, taking a moment to calm them, all soothing noises and shushing sounds. The other arm hooked around the protagonist's throat, cradling them securely against them. Trapped.

The two of them looked at the door.

The protagonist could still hear the undead behind it. They wailed and clawed - nothing like the figure behind them.

The other undead kneeled in a circle around them and the stranger. The protagonist didn't like the way they looked at the stranger - like they were everything, like they were god. It was far more lucid than they had been before. They looked less zombie-like too. More real.

"Don't do this," the protagonist said into the silence. "Please don't do this."

They already knew what would happen if they touched their blood to that door again.

"Our people are hungry," the stranger replied. "They have spent so long in the dark and the slumber, waiting for you. You can't abandon them now. We can't abandon them now."

The protagonist shook their head. They wanted to say something daring and clever, but there was a whimper caught in their windpipe.

"It's not so bad." The stranger held them a little tighter. "You're going to help them. They won't be quite so brain dead once they've had a bit of you. They won't slaughter everyone."

"Just most people?" It came out choked.

"Depends entirely on if most people are willing to accept my rule, my saviour."

"I'm not - I didn't - I didn't want any of this."

A week ago, they hadn't even known.

"I know," the stranger murmured. "I know you didn't. Children of fate rarely do. That's why their hands must be forced by destiny."

"My hands were forced by cultists."

The stranger shrugged. "Destiny takes many forms."

"You killed them. Let them-"

"-My people were very hungry. Who was I to deny them? Besides." The stranger bowed their head, so their lips brushed the top of the protagonist's head. "They hurt you."

"You hurt me. Your people-"

"I wouldn't have let them get too rough. I just wanted to see what you could do. I don't think anyone expected you to escape the temple and seal the doors again in the first place. Lucky I was around!"

Lucky was not the word that the protagonist would have used.

"Just reach out a hand," the stranger murmured. "And all this can be over. You will be a hero."

"To the undead."

"To what is yours. To what you belong to."

Maybe it made no difference in the grand scheme of apocalypse, but the protagonist didn't reach out a hand that time. They expected the stranger to bark out an order, for the undead to wrench their palm forward and bleed them like the cultists had. A lamb on an altar.

The silence stretched.

The stranger couldn't make them.

The realisation struck the protagonist heady, impossibly light-headed with hope. They didn't understand why, or how, or much of any of the horror. But if the stranger could make them, they would have already done so.

The protagonist laughed. Wild. Delirious. Their head tipped back against the stranger's chest.

"They suffer in there," the stranger said. Less amused. More quiet. "They are trapped. Help them."

"No."

"This is what you were made for. Promised for."

"Then maybe," the protagonist said, "destiny should have asked for my opinion first."

"Please," the stranger said, and the protagonist didn't know what to do with that. "Please."

It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. That begging wasn't how the story went, was it? Ancient evil didn't beg.

"No," the protagonist said, a little softer. "Sorry."

The stranger let go.

The protagonist crumbled, gasping, on the door stop.

"Then I suppose." The stranger stepped up to the door, pressing a longing hand against the stone. "We're doing this the hard way."

[r0entgen]

"Why won't Venezuelans just address the blockade?"

If you're wondering why, read below.

Let me start by saying that I wrote this after I finished work, with less than three hours of sleep and a single meal in my body, so if you find any grammar mistakes, my apologies.

This is the comment that kickstarted this post. I believe I've mentioned this before, but when you're living in a country that weaponizes propaganda and hijacks every single media outlet, you have to master the fine arts of fact checking and cross-referencing. Which is exactly what we're going to do right now, addressing the claim that 40,000 Venezuelans have been killed by the US sanctions, and why We Won't Engage with You In This Particular Argument.

*Note: click the underlined text for links and sources.

In the paper Economic Sanctions as Collective Punishment: The Case of Venezuela by Mark Weisbrot and Jeffrey Sachs (who will be referred to as WS in this post), WS mention that between the years of 2017-2019, the economic sanctions caused a 31% increase in the general mortality rate in Venezuela, a number that they calculate may be of about 40,000 deaths. While they cite ENCOVI and a UN report from 2019 as the sources of this statistic, they clarify the following in the footnotes:

The ENCOVI 2018 survey has not been made public, the mortality statistic cited here is from the UN Report (2019).

As of this date, WS has not made public the data source for this estimate, and the UN report used as a source (Venezuela: Overview of Priority Humanitarian Needs, March 2019) is not publicly available.

So let's take a look at some sources that ARE publicly available.

The World Bank Group World Development Indicators registers at least a 30% increase in the infant mortality rate in Venezuela from the dates of 2013 to 2016. Similar numbers are reported in this paper, seeing a 40% increase in the infant mortality rate in Venezuela between the dates on 2008-2016. Here's an excerpt from the paper Impact of the 2017 Sanctions on Venezuela:

While different than other overall mortality rates, increases in infant mortality rates are generally interpretable as a preventable consequence of inadequate pre- and post-natal care for otherwise healthy but vulnerable infants. Thus, infant mortality is often recognized as a good proxy measure of the quality on overall public health provision.

What this tells us is that THERE HAS BEEN an increase in general mortality rate - one that started long before the 2017 sanctions.

However, this doesn't mean that in the periods of 2017-2019 there wasn't a high death toll. Let's look at another publicly available source.

The National Hospital Survey (2019) found that between November 2018 and February 2019, 1557 people died owing to the lack of supplies in hospitals [...]. 40 patients died as a result of the power outages in March 2019.

We see the first mention of a number in the 2019 Report of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights.

Something interesting this report mentions is that 40 deaths were caused by the blackout in March 2019. A blackout that lasted 7 days and affected our 23 states.

The energy crisis which caused this nationwide blackout started in 2010. The Wikipedia article is a good summary, if a bit simple, of the events that led to and took place during and after the energy crisis (which affects us Venezuelans living in the country to this day)

Back to the UN Report. Something else this report indicates is the following:

In 2018, the Government registered 5,287 such killings, while the non-governmental organization Observatorio Venezolano de la Violencia reported at least 7,523 killings under this category. Between 1 January and 19 May 2019, the Government reported 1,569 killings for resistance to authority. The Observatorio Venezolano de la Violencia reported at least 2,124 such killings between January and May 2019. Information analysed by OHCHR suggests many of these killings may constitute extrajudicial executions.

[...] Six young men executed by the Special Action Forces (SEBIN) in reprisal for their role in anti-government protests in 2019.

This means that between the dates of 2018-2019, there have been approximately 9,647 deaths in the context of security operations - which includes Venezuelans that took part of the protests in 2019. Very similar to what we have been reporting since after the elections in July 28.

2017 to 2019 was one of the most difficult periods in Venezuelan history, marked by the sanctions imposed by Trump which affected oil export, access to diesel, and food and medicine imports. Some people argue that the economic recession in Venezuela was caused by the sanctions - failing to notice the negative trends in the years prior to these.

Bahar, Bustos, Morales and Santos (who will be referred to as BBMS in this post) conclude in their paper, Impact of the 2017 Sanctions on Venezuela, that while the sanctions had a negative effect in the oil production, "it is quite impossible to attribute the fall [...] to one single event (i.e., the sanctions), when many other confounding events were happening at the same time."

Oil production: Oil prices dropped during 2015, and oil production decreased as a result of lack of maintenance and investment.

Energy crisis: By 2009, when the energy crisis was first declared, the electrical grid had already been suffering from the lack of maintenance and investment since 1998. The Chávez administration distributed million dollar contracts [...] that enriched high officials of his government and the works were never built. [1] [2] [3]

Economic decline and hyper-inflation: Actions taken by the Chávez administration such as expropriation and price control, as well as the PDVSA purge in 2002 led the country to depend almost entirely on its already declining oil industry, causing shortages and price rises in common goods, food, medical supplies and so on. By 2015, 60% of the Venezuelan population was living in poverty. [1] [2] [3] [4]

From only these three points, we can establish a negative trend starting way before the first US Sanctions. Thus, we can conclude that by the time the devastating 2017-2019 sanctions took place, Venezuela was already deep in a state of generalized crisis.

WS conclude in their paper:

[...] One of the most important impacts of the sanctions is to lock Venezuela into a downward economic spiral. [...] An economic recovery could have already begun in the absence of economic sanctions.

While Bahar, Bustos, Morales and Santos declare:

[...] Our analysis finds insufficient evidence to conclude that they [sanctions] were responsible for the worsening of the socio-economic crisis. [...] The weight of evidence seems to indicate that, rather than being a result of US-imposed sanctions, much of the suffering and devastation in Venezuela has been, in line with most accounts, inflicted by those in power.

In conclusion - both papers seem to agree that the crisis in Venezuela started before 2017, but where WS claim that it worsened due to US sanctions, BBMS place a higher blame on the deterioration caused by the Venezuelan government.

Now, you may keep whichever analysis you prefer, but one thing we know for sure: the 40,000 Venezuelans that WS claimed died due to the sanctions cannot be found in any public report, while the death toll of protests and extrajudicial killings has been extensively reported.

Why is this relevant?

Contrary to what some people on this site would say, Venezuelans generally agree on the negative impacts of US-imposed sanctions (note: this poll accounts only for Venezuelans in Florida, as polls aren't often published inside Venezuela). However, the general consensus is that US-sanctions only added up to a crisis that had been building up since Chávez rose to power, and rather than the cause, it was yet another symptom.

Yes, the US is the Big Bad, but placing the blame solely on the sanctions only takes the responsibility away from the government and diverts the attention from the poor governance, rampaging corruption, violent repression and denialism that we've grown used to in the last 25 years.

So if you ask "why don't you address the blockade?", my response is: why don't you address the 9,647 extrajudicial killings, the 40 deaths caused by the energy crisis, the energy crisis itself, the economic decline, the lack of maintenance in the infrastructure, the violent repression, the forceful abductions and the censoring?

What we want you to understand is that when you center the US as the cause of the crisis, you are actively participating in our state-funded propaganda and knowingly turning a blind eye on the suffering of all Venezuelans. You are no better than imperialists - you ARE participating in imperialism.

Remember:

Last, but not least - be careful with your sources. This Venezuelanalysis article was written by Andreína Chávez, former editor-in-chief of TeleSUR, a government-funded news channel known for spreading Maduro propaganda. One of their most recent claims: dead Venezuelans are shown as having voted in the ballots shown in resultadosconvenezuela.com. Needless to say, this is false. This news portal is what some people would call, BIASED.

For more information, please read the amazing analysis written by @systhemes HERE.

A more direct response by @achillesmonochrome HERE.

For other sources, check HERE.

*Fellow Venezuelans, feel free to include anything I might have missed.

[jaqofalltrades]

Work From Home

Anakin Skywalker x F!reader

Warnings: Smut!!, oral f receiving, fingering, voice control?, low-key edging, sub!reader, sweet Ani:), secret relationship.

Your day started as any other, waking up in the Jedi temple to do your duties and practice your training. Anakin had gone on a mission off planet. Somewhere on Kashyyyk, not the safest of planets. Even though you had been worried for him all day, you could not voice your opinions, seeing as any romantic relationships were strictly forbidden for Jedi. 

The two of you had started your secret meetings a few months ago, at first it was just to relieve stress and pent up excitement. A mutual agreement, as long as no one caught feelings. Obviously that didn't go as planned, and now you were dating. Only for the past month and a half, but it was still longer than anyone else in the vicinity.

So now you were winding down, freshly out of the shower with a towel covering your body, rolled at the top to keep it from slipping, and one wrapping your wet hair. You had a small room, connected to an even smaller bathroom. It came fully equipped with 1 table, 1 chair, 1 bed, and 1 pillow. Over the time you had been here, you acquired more. Like the extra robes in your closet, too big for you, but a perfect fit for Anakin. An extra pair of mens boots were tucked behind a hanging jacket, and extra pillows thrown on the bed. Every now and again you’ll have company, and spot one of Anakin's things lying around. You are quick to redirect them as you used the force to flick them away.

You were in your dresser, about to pick out something comfortable to wear to sleep. The door opened with a mechanical sound, that made you jump slightly and grip your towel harder, “Who the hell do you think you are?!” You called out as you turned, expecting someone in your business. Your voice died out as you saw the six foot figure standing in front of your closed doorway. A smile immediately graced your lips as you rushed forwards to hug him. 

He stumbled back at the impact and chuckled as he wrapped his arms around your back. He started with a chuckle, “Geez sweetheart, thanks for the warm welcome. At least I know you don't have anyone else sneakin’ around in here.” He lifted you slightly off the ground as he squeezed you tightly.

“Mm, you know I would never. And maybe if you knocked, or even just let me know you were coming I wouldn't have yelled.” You ended your sentence with a more stern look. As your feet went back on the ground you pushed yourself off him, looking up at him with a scrunched nose. “And anyways, I should be mad at you for not checking in all day, how am I supposed to know if you've died?” You crossed your arms as you walked back to your dresser. You took the towel off your head and grabbed a brush, looking in the mirror above as you started to brush through your hair.

Anakin's eyes were glued on you as you brushed your hair. Specifically the water that was dripping down your neck, over your collar bone and.. Soaked into the towel wrapped around your body. 

He had been thinking about you all day, and to have you in front of him now was like a sweet treat for his eyes. He let a smile grow on his face at your attitude. He found it more endearing than anything. “Oh, did I worry you? Don't let it sweetheart, I’m always careful, I’ve got you to think about.. But I’ll do my best.” As he spoke he removed his heavy boots, and his cloak; leaving him in his pants and your favorite fitted black shirt, not bothering in taking them off.

But he didn't for one second, take his focus off you. Your clean scent filled the air and it was making him woozy. He had already had a long, and extremely tiring day, he just wanted to relax, and do something he enjoyed. You had finished brushing your hair and you stood with your arms crossed, looking at him through the mirror. “Thank you Ani. But you aren't invincible okay?” Your eyes followed him, turning around to look at him directly. He sat idly on the edge of your bed, only 2 feet in front of you. He looked tense almost, like he was thinking really hard.

In his own perspective he was simply watching you. The way your mouth moved as you scolded him, how drops of water skimmed down your collar from your hair. The small puddle around your feet, and how your towel was starting to slip. He reached his arm forward, grabbing your waist gently and using his foot to pull you closer. 

You moved between his legs where he sat on your bed with a light gasp. He looked up at you and his pupils were blown, and he looked like a puppy. His hands gripped the back of your thighs, massaging them lightly. “I know baby, trust me. I’m always careful.” You have tingles running all over your body, starting from where Anakin's skin came in contact with yours and out. His eyes roamed over your covered body as his hands stayed where they were. He breathed you in as he pulled you closer, sitting sideways on his lap. “Have you been missin’ me?” He asked airily, placing his lips against your neck. He kissed along it gently, moving towards your jaw. 

Sparks flew across you skin, making you shiver. You leaned into him and you felt your thoughts melt away. “Mhm…” You hummed in response, “All the time.” Your brought your hands to cup his jaw, gently pulling his face up to yours. His eyes flicked between your eyes and lips, smashing them against his, quick and hungrily. He had been waiting for you all day and there was no stopping it now.

Your lips pressed against his in unison. His lips were chapped from being out all day, but you kind of liked it, it added extra roughness to his touch. Your hands started to roam over his shoulders, squeezing them tightly. You felt him smirk into your lips as you makeout on the edge of your bed. Soon you started to feel his hands groping you, partially over your towel, some not. His mechanical arm trailed up your back and into the bottoms of your hair.

Anakin's metal hand secured a grip in your hair, pulling you down onto the bed, hovering his body on top yours. He has a big grin on his face as his other hand rubbed up and down your side gently over your towel. You were looking up at him, a warm blush spreading across your cheeks.

His smile lines shone deep in his face, making him even more handsome in your eyes. “You look so pretty for me baby…” He spoke against your jaw in a hushed tone, leaving slow kisses on it. It sent shivers down your spine and made you smile flusteredly. “All squeaky clean,, and you smell so damn good.” Anakin let out a quiet and airy chuckle as he spoke to you. He buried his face into you and it made you laugh at the tickling sensation.

You playfully pushed his face back and spoke with a laugh, “Stop it- that tickles!” The laugh cut off and was replaced with a pleasured gasp leaving your lips as Anakin bit down and sucked on the skin. Not enough to leave a dark bruise, but just enough that the two of you could recognize it.

His hands roamed your body, gently tugging the towel off your still damp skin. The contrast of your soft, plump skin on his calloused palms felt like his personal heaven. He continued to massage, kiss and seer every bit of you into his mind. You had started to feel hot with need for him, arching your body up onto his.

“C’mon Ani, do something before I have to take this into my own hands,” you huffed at him in a whiny tone. His eyebrows raised and he gave you a look that made you want to pounce on him. His eyes had gotten heavier, and the tension felt ten times more real.

Anakin dragged his gaze down your bare figure, then back up to your big, sparkling, needy eyes. “I’m sorry angel, are you saying you can do this yourself? Because I can let’ya do that…” He smirked as he retracted his hands from your body. 

His smirk grew as he watched you immediately start shaking your head. “No, no- thats not what I meant! Please, Ani, I need you.” You pulled his hands back onto your waist and ran your fingers over his shoulders, looking at him with you bottom lip between your teeth; knowing how it drove him crazy.

His head shook with a smile as he kissed your forehead, “Only because you asked so nicely.” His mechanical hand traveled down your stomach, towards the growing heat in your abdomen. The coolness of the metal made your skin flinch under it.  

He landed a few kisses on your stomach and looked up at you with a devilish smirk. His cool hand massaged your inner thigh before making contact with your wet folds. Your jaw fell open at the coolness of his fingers, then biting your lip in anticipation. Anakin slipped his middle finger into you agonizingly slow, knuckle by knuckle. A subtle whine left your lips when he added a second finger, pumping teasingly.

Anakins’ eyes were glued to your dripping pussy, pupils blown with lust. “Maker you’re gorgeous… Cant wait to fuck you how you need,” his voice was low and gravelly, making you shiver. He curled his fingers in just the right way, making you moan abruptly.

“Fuck Ani-” his other hand clamped over your mouth gently, restricting you from making anything more than a muffled groan. 

“Shh- shh. Gotta stay quiet for me princess. Okay?” He didn't let up his pace, pushing knuckle deep. You nodded your head hesitantly, concentrating on holding yourself back. His hand slipped down your jaw and then hooked his arm under your thigh, reaching around to your side, holding you in place. 

His metallic fingers felt so right inside you, hitting all the spots you cant. He sped up his thrusting, the sound of your wetness filling the room. The sight of you crumbling beneath him made his pants tighten painfully. 

Your back arched off the soft sheets, and your lower half wiggled with pleasure. His hand pressed you down onto your lower stomach, and into the bed, thrusting his fingers into you faster, but left you unsatisfied when he suddenly pulled them out. You trained your eyes on him as he lifted his fingers to his mouth, sucking in his cheeks as he cleaned your juices from them, that dark look in his eyes.

Your cheeks flushed at his actions, butterflies erupting in your stomach, the dull ache becoming stronger. “Ani! Why’d you stop?” your voice a low whine. 

He spoke as he lowered his head towards your core, “Don't worry baby, m’just gettin started.” His metal hand wrapped under your other thigh, holding down your other hip. He licked a slow stripe on your aching pussy, relief rushing through you. 

Before you could give him a physical reaction, Anakin started eating you out like an animal starved. His tongue massaged inside your walls so good. He was practically a god in this area. You tried to keep it down, but you couldn't help but let small whines and moans escape. “Mmmf.. fuck, just like that Ani, you're so good to me,” your words came out airy and high pitched, making Anakins dick twitch in his pants.

He groaned against you, the vibration sending a wave of pleasure through your tummy. You let out a sudden moan when his flesh thumb started to circle on your clit, an acutely slower pace compared to his tongue inside you. Your pussy gripped his fingers like a vice.“Y’so sweet Princess… like fucking candy,” he mumbled as he continued to ravish your cunt.

You felt your high approaching quickly, his vulgar words urging you closer. Anakin removed his thumb from working your clit, and you were going to say some bratty quip about it when he pressed his two fingers back inside you and set a rapid pace. You couldn't stop the pornographic noises leaving you, consumed in pleasure.

His fingers immediately slowed their pace and you groaned at the sudden drop in pressure in your stomach. Anakin looked up at you, lips and chin glistening with your arousal, “You gonna stay quiet, or do you want everyone to know you're a slut for my fingers baby?” 

You squirmed under him, trying to get more friction. “I’ll be quiet I promise, just please keep going Ani m’so close!” Your toes curled when his fingers just barely scraped that squishy spot deep inside you. He pumped them slow and deep, making your eyes flutter shut.

Anakin kissed your inner thigh, his voice deep, “Thats my good girl… Now eyes on me. Want you to watch me make you cum.” Your pussy clenched around his fingers, your slick making lewd noises. 

You opened your eyes, to be met with Anakin already looking at you, his eyes dark and concentrated. His mouth attached to your clit, sucking and licking feverishly. He thrusted his fingers in an uncontrolled manor, curling them at just the right angle. 

The two combined with the eye contact you held has you coming undone fairly quick. Your thighs clenched around his ears, and he felt like he was in heaven. As your legs started to shake he increased his pace even more, which you didn't think was possible. Quiet moans escaped you, your hands grabbing at the sheets beneath you. 

“Ani- ah.. m’gonna… please, please- Anakin!” you begged in a raw and hushed moan. He sucked on your clit, keeping his eyes on you. The view of him below you, eating you out like a god had you cumming in seconds. Your thighs clamped around him and your tension filled legs spasmed and heels dug into his back muscles.

Anakin watched how your face contorted with pleasure, mouth hung open slightly and your eyes begging to flutter closed, but you kept them on him like he told you. The small sheen of sweat covering your face made it seem like you were glowing, his perfect little angel cumming on his fingers so sweetly.

Your juices flowed from you as he continued to fuck you through your high, his fingers only letting up slightly as you clenched around him. He shamelessly licked up your juices, taking his time as you started to relax. Your ears were ringing, vision black in the corners, and your voice was temporarily out of order. Your body melted back into the bed, legs going slack over Anakin's shoulders.

You started to come back when you felt his gentle hand stroking up and down your calf. You smiled at him cheekily, brain mush while staring at his pretty features. He crawled up to you, leaning down to kiss your forehead, then your lips. You could taste yourself on him, not complaining. He had your cheek cupped in his mechanical hand and he pulled back slowly. “Ready for more baby?”

Lmk if you want a part twoo, if you do i'll get to the GOOD stuff. I just need validation in my work lol cause I constantly question if its worth writing. Anyways tell me what u think, send requests or don't rlly whatever you want! want fanfic to start a comeback bc its been lacking lately in new fics so I've been getting to work

[weirdmorefics]

My Birdy Took Flight

A/N- I am aware I really need to write my asks and my Spencer Reid story but I am currently obsessed with Simon Riley okay!

Simon Riley x Sniper Reader

Readers pronouns- She/her

TW- Swearing, falling, injuries, and military inaccuracies but I mean it's COD and they have a zombie game so are going to attack them too? lol

Summary- Who knew the complete off-the-books mission would go off the rails and leave you with the worst rope burns of your life. The injuries however were not the scary part it was having to face Ghost and admit you fell out of the heli.

Word Count- 1991

This mission was completely off the books, asshole Shephard did not care at all that Kate had been taken hostage and would not send reinforcements for help. I've been working with Price and Kate since I was a recruit they are my family. There was no way I was leaving Kate to be killed. The plan was simple enough I stayed in the heli for overwatch while Price, Gaz, and Farah worked their way up the line. Things were going smoothly I've worked with Nik before he is one hell of a pilot. Things however took a turn for the worse an explosive hit the copter and I fucking fell out. I'm sure Nik and Captian thought I died for a moment but I was bloody hanging from the rope. I am lucky my sniper skills are still top-notch when I'm hanging upside down though I would prefer not to test it again. After that hiccup, we recovered Kate and she luckily had no physical injuries.

We returned to base that night and Price insisted I go to the med bay to get checked out. To quote his words, "You look like shit kid, get the hell to med bay before I drag you myself."

The medic rushed to treat me, but something told me that was Price's doing. They wanted to keep me here for observation due to my concussion from the explosion impact. I begged them not to I'd sleep way better in the barracks I hate the sanitary hospital smell, I even prefer the smell of gunpowder. The medic would not take no for an answer I wanted to fight them harder but they said they preferred my anger to Price's wrath. The medic left shortly after and would return sporadically to do random vital checks. At least I knew the concussion wasn't that bad as it didn't beckon me toward the darkness like other times. Though my raw skin kept me from finding any peace I honestly kind of miss the darkness. I spent the night tossing and turning the pain and clinical setting keeping sleep a far distance away from me.

The clock ticking was mocking me as I watched it hit four am. How are hospital settings supposed to help you heal when there is so much beeping and someone always coming into your room? Speaking of which I heard the door creak yet again didn't they just take my vitals ten minutes ago! I can't take this without thinking I launch the flat uncomfortable pillow at what I assumed would be the intern medic yet again only to lock eyes with Ghost looking as shocked as I did.

"That's one hell of a greeting darling," he says in his usual deep voice. My eyes are still wide with shock that I just hit my superior with a pillow but he takes this opportunity to speak again. "Heard you took flight today, Gaz was telling everyone."

I wince at the thought of everyone knowing I failed to hold on during the explosion and try to change the subject to avoid thinking about it, "Aren't you supposed to be on a mission with Soap?"

"Just got back. Johnny and Gaz are out celebrating," he responds.

"They are out celebrating at four am?" I question.

"You know Johnny no one can outdrink the Scott," he says like it's the most obvious thing the world.

"Well, why aren't you out there celebrating with them?"

"My birdy took flight and thought it only decent to check up on her," any other time I would have dwelled on the fact that he said 'my birdy' but he placed his hand on my welted ankle and I could not suppress the groan. His eyes quickly shift to concern and he rips the scratchy hospital blanket off me.

"Ghost!" I shout at him for having the audacity to rip the blanket off me. He has no right to barge in here and act like he's in charge, he may be the boss of me in the field but he is not my doctor and I do not care for showing off my nasty ass wounds to my team members.

He does not acknowledge my shout at him in the slightest instead his full attention is on my rope-burned ankles."What quack treated this," he growled.

"I'm fine," I try to yank my foot out of his grasp but he holds tighter.

"Yeah because the skin falling off your ankle looks spectacular," he says sarcastically.

"Wow you sure know how to treat a girl," I roll my eyes.

"Haven't heard any complaints," he says nonchalantly as if that innuendo wouldn't have Soap applauding.

"Seriously, it's fine. Go celebrate with the team," I assure.

"If you think I am letting you let your ankle get infected you are off your rocker. I am going to need names, sweetheart," he commands.

The nickname glides out of his mouth so easily it's as if he had said it a hundred times. I want to stay as calm and collected as him but I unfortunately stutter, "What names?" God, it's a good thing I'm a sniper and not a spy because I would be dead.

"Of the idiot docs who treated this," he speaks as if it's obvious.

I sigh, "It's not their fault... I didn't tell them. Price only knew about the concussion and I just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible."

"Ah so you're the idiot," he growls.

"Can you not be mean to me I did just fall out of a heli."

"Shut up you lived," he rolls his eyes, gently places my foot down, and turns to leave.

"Please don't take your anger out on the medics," I beg.

"Oh trust me darling I will be taking my anger out on you," he growls yet again.

I shiver, "Where are you going then?"

"To get some medical supplies for your dumbass. No one way I'm letting a medic treat you when you will just lie to them."

"What makes you think I won't lie to you?" I tease well aware that I am in no place to be teasing.

He chuckles an evil kind still it's one of the best I've heard, "Me and you both know you aren't capable of it."

He exits the room and I am unsure if I want to slap him or rip that mask off and kiss him... I am definitely incapable of either. I may be able to beat Soap, Gaz, and even Price on the mat but no one can best Ghost. I, unfortunately, hear him shouting at medics for a damn first aid kit... so much for him taking out his anger on me.

He returns rather quickly but does not speak as he meticulously places the first aid supplies by my bedside.

He pours some alcohol on my rope burn and I hiss loudly, "shit a little warning would be nice."

"You would have just fought harder. Need to clean the debris out who fuckin knows how old that rope was."

"Aw is Ghosty worried about me," I pout.

"Thought I told you and Johnny to stop calling me that, you want me to make this hurt worse than it already does?"

I roll my eyes at him and in response, he presses the gauze harder than necessary. "You asshole!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I can see his wicked smile through his balaclava.

"Yeah sure," I huff. "You know..." I smile mischievously. "This would go a lot faster if you just kissed it better."

"Oh really," I could hear the grin in his voice. I was expecting him to make some snide comment in return instead he finishes wrapping my ankle and lifts his mask to rest on the bridge of his nose.

I am sure my eyes widen to the size of saucers. I feel like a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankle. His grin widens it could only be compared to the Cheshire cat's smile. He gently lifts my ankle to his lips but does not stop there. He places delicate kisses all the way up to my thigh. I think I have officially stopped breathing. Then my heart decides to do the most embarrassing thing ever. It speeds up so atrociously fast that the monitors start beeping incredibly loud. That's it I have officially died there is no coming back my face is melting off from how flushed I am.

Ghost sits back and laughs and I mean properly laughs, I have never seen him like this. "This is a good look on you birdy all red and flustered, all for me too." He pulls his mask back down but I can still see the smile in his eyes.

"Shut up! I am a highly trained sought-after sniper, I don't get flustered!" I feel like that would have sounded better if I didn't stutter each word.

Ghost glances at my heart rate monitor, "Your heart says otherwise."

A medic comes in as the dumb machine won't stop beating, "Are you alright? You're looking quite flushed and your blood pressure is higher than it was when you first came in."

I swear I could see the smugness radiating off Ghost. God I want to strangle him.

"She's fine thanks to me," his eyes squint at me and I know he has a huge grin under that balaclava. He then turns to the medic, "Don't you know the 141 are notorious liars and the worst patients! Next time call me down here as soon as she is being treated."

The poor medic flinches at Ghost's rough voice and can barely whisper, "Yes, sir"

I mouth, 'I'm so sorry," to the medic he looks appreciative.

The medic flees as soon as my blood pressure normalizes. Ghost roughly throws his body onto the uncomfortable hospital chair and groans.

"What are you doing? Shouldn't you be going back to the barracks," I glance as he makes himself comfortable well as comfortable as one can be in a torn hospital chair.

"In a rush to get rid of me birdy?"

"Is that name going to become a thing," I roll my eyes.

"Only for me, if anyone else has the nerve to call you that I'll gut them," he replies.

"Even Johnny?"

"Especially Johnny," He grins.

I smile, "Seriously Ghost you should go sleep in your own bed that chair cannot be comfortable. I'd be in my bed if they would let me escape."

"I know you can't stand hospitals, I won't let you be sleepless and cranky alone."

"Fine, then at least share the bed with me, I forbid you from sleeping on that fifty-year-old chair."

"The fact that you think you can forbid me from doing anything sweetheart is laughable. Are you sure you want me to be over there might make your heart monitor scream again?" He makes his way over to the bed despite his words.

I roll my eyes, "I'll manage."

He lays on the small hospital bed and takes up ninety percent of it but I don't mind it because it doesn't smell like hand sanitizer and blood anymore it smells like him.

"Goodnight birdy," he kisses the top of my head and my heartrate monitor instantly starts beeping annoyingly again.

"Goddammit," I groan and he just laughs.

"You would make a terrible spy with all those emotions, you're lucky the red face works on you." he chuckles.

"You're just jealous of my amazing sniping abilities you must point out my flaws," I poke his chest.

"You ain't got no flaws birdy except the fact that you're stubborn as hell. Now go to sleep before I knock you out myself."

"Yes LT.," I fake salute him and he rolls his eyes.

Sleep comes so much faster in the med bay when you aren't alone, I wish falling asleep would always be this easy.

[nalyra-dreaming]

hi nalyra, a couple of days ago i saw you answering something about the possibility of tr*mp being elected and that not being great for iwtv and shows in general i think. i'm not sure i understood what's going to happen now that the nightmare came true. would you mind explaining to me?

Well….

I mean, you heard about Project 2025, maybe?

If you haven't... well, I posted about it months ago, and ... it might be too late now, but the Trump administration and his enablers set up this nice little playbook. It's worth looking into, because that's what they want.

We'll see if they manage, but... remember how fast the environmental websites disappeared last time? The LGBT ones? Yep. I remember. First day. And it's easy to check the shit show that happened because of Trump's first term, and still...

Anyways, what does that mean for IWTV?

Let me be cynical for a moment - what do you think it means?

A show, addressing racial issues, with a color-conscious recast. A show, featuring more or less all queer characters. A show, about to feature non-binary and genderqueer characters. A show, not afraid of putting its fingers into wounds.

It is a good thing they're about to start filming s3 already.

I hope we will get s4.

For more I do not dare to hope for.

I ... don't think it's going to be cancelled immediately. And maybe we'll get lucky and AMC will continue to thrive through the people loving the show. Luckily AMC is situated in New York, too.

But if they implement legislation, like they plan to?

Then that will impact. You probably cannot quite fathom how much - yet.

If the Trump administration manages to implement half of what they're planning it will throw back the US for decades.

And with it the culture, and ... well. TV shows, too. Remember all the porn bans, and - even more benevolently - the cookie popups?? LEGISLATION. The wet dream of these people. And they just scored a major victory.

IWTV is the very antithesis for a lot of their beliefs. Queer, racially sensitive and highly critical.

It will be a thorn in their side, and they will seek to remove it.

It will be up to us to make it lucrative enough for AMC to put up with the backlash btw or even fight back against legislation/censorship. Like, seriously. Should IWTV get 10 seasons? YEP. Does AMC plan to do so? Yes. At this point at least they do.

Will they be able to fight against legislation? Debatable.

So maybe this fandom can fucking stop infighting about fucking fictional characters and maybe actually work to keep this friggin' show.

Hope dies last. -.-

Oh, and while we're at it: It's a good thing Ao3 is in CA, but please don't think that they are absolutely safe there. Four years is a long time, and I don't think Trump is going to hold any election after those four years.... -.-

[jaykorianddickkoriforlife]

One of the main reasons why there is so much debate between Team Black and Team Green with those who favor team green is because of how utterly horrific Blood and Cheese is in the book. So many people use that as an argument when they're trying to explain why they're team green, which is understandable, and so many of us, no matter what team we're on, were anxious to see it on screen because that would make the split so much more massive to those who never read the book and only know about it because of what the readers have said, and then you get to the moment and...

It was underwhelming to say the least. The reason why Helaena went so mad was because the scene in the book had so many details that the show missed that explained just how utterly insane that scene was and why she lost it with her overwhelming and crushing guilt, and I feel like the reason why I just didn't really even feel that much about the scene was because you see her run, you hear it, and then what do you get?

Alicent screwing Crispy in Rhaenerys old bed, and the moment is gone just like that. The impact tried to hit and missed so hard, and all because of some cringey ass addition to the show, like out of all the times, did they really have to put that right after one of the most important reasons why everything went so downhill so fast besides Lucerys death??? If they wanted to add a love scene between Rhaenyra's rejects, they could've had it at another point, but no.

The writing was massively disappointing, and idk what that was, but that wasn't creative or new in the slightest. The impact just didn't really hit for me as a viewer, and as a reader, I feel for those who will never be able to understand just how fundamental that scene really was to the story in the book. Many will definitely feel sympathy, but I feel like the reaction would've been far more massive if they had added the true intensity of her having to choose, or Alicent being there in the room as a hostage because Helaena and the kids always innocently stopped by her chambers before bedtime, but no, I guess letting us know Alicent now has a sex life is far more important than the tragedy that scene really was in the book because not only did Helaena have to go through that, but so did Alicent. She not only had to watch her grandchild die, but she had to go on every single day knowing that she was there to see the moment that her daughter really died, because physically, she was there, but mentally? Helaena checked out the second she lost her son.

But yay for Alicent I guess for getting laid. There's nothing better than watching Rhaenyra's two biggest fans go at it. The writers really have their priorities down. Like be so fr.

[starburts-addict]

Okay so, this idea was not 100% my idea, but I was allowed to use it, so let's go!

(I'm also using an idea from a manhwa so)

Also also, I usually do gn reader, but for the sake of hijinx, the reader is fem.

OKAY LAST THING, LILIA AND ORTHO WILL BE WRITTEN AS PLATONIC

You were a normal human on earth. Just another anime fan, you liked Twisted Wonderland, nothing out of the ordinary. That was until you died. Your life wasn't to be happy about, but you didn't think it was that bad. 

You woke up. That entire dream was your past life! You woke up crying and your two older brothers came to check up on you as you slept in the same room. Your parents came to check up on you. You now know who they were. They leech family from your favorite game, but… why do you exist? You were never mentioned as a character, there was never any mention that the twins had a younger sibling, let alone a sister. 

Growing up, you always questioned your existence, but you tried not to think too hard about it. Maybe it was just the celestial being's way of apologizing for your untimely death. You got to meet Azul the year you went into the equivalent of middle school. The year Jade and Floyd met Azul. You've met him before and you helped him! But after a very small handful of meetings, Jade and Floyd had purposely tried limiting your time with him. Sure he was odd as a younger version to the version you're used to seeing, but he wasn't that bad! Every Time you tried to hang out with Azul with your brothers, something always came up where you couldn't. It was strange, but you decided not to question anything. What's the point if it can ruin your happiness?

We were fine not being able to attend Night Right College, you were happy with your life! Besides you were a girl, it's impossible for yo- Your parents bribed the Headmaster to allow you to attend as a student? That's new. You never really expressed any desire to go to the school. Although Jade and Floyd do complain about not seeing you as much, must have been on their request. You didn't mind, just caught off guard. Besides! You get to see the cast! Upon realizing you needed to prepare for the story. The plot except the arrival of the protagonist was the only thing you couldn't remember. Drats, you remembered when you were younger, but now, you don't remember one bit. Guess you were going in blind. 

When the time for the entrance ceremony arrived, everything went upside down. Not only was the protagonist one of the protagonists with a face, Yuuka Hirasaka, but everyone's eyes were on the both of you as the only girls on campus. You know this school is an all boys school, but did they have to make a huge deal out of it? At least the main cast didn't seem to mind too much, although Azul's eyes on Yuuka and you were unnerving. (He was looking at Yuuka too right?) You knew things were going to change the second Yuuka and grim have been deemed students and we're under your care. You may not remember the plot, but you remembered details on the main character. Like how they were not granted the position of student as soon as they arrived. Especially the fact that they were supposed to be the dorm leader of Ramshackle, not you.

When you and Yuuka left after the conundrum called the entrance ceremony, you felt like you had become prey despite being a predator. Especially with the eyes on you. 

As the school year went on, you recognized that almost everyone's behavior was, even your brothers, but for different reasons. They kept driving you away from the main cast. Yuuka and Grim were the only normal ones. It wasn't until after the Heartslabyul incident that your dorm mates had revealed the reason for your brother's weird behavior and left you with more questions for the others. Apparently everyone in the main cast has been asking about you. 

Was your presence in this world so impactful? No, it probably wasn't that. It was probably the difference between you and your older twin brothers. Their curiosity should calm down especially with the fact they don't even really know you.

…. Right?

Tags: @bubbles-lounge

[ottosbigtop]

What Is Wolf 359 anyway ? Is it like a podcast ? And could you tell me all your favorite parts about it in great detail because it sounds really interesting and I trust your opinion :]

sits down across the table from you and slams a briefcase on the table so heavy it breaks it in half. Hey.

Wolf 359 is an audio podcast that came out in 2014. It opens up by asking the question “Would that be fucked up or what?” and its answers are really funny until they aren’t. Classic case of the funny story slowly becoming painfully real and dangerous for the protagonists.

The basics of the plot is a crew of three people plus their space station’s AI are sent to orbit a star lightyears away from earth by some totally suspicious corporation. The show introduces you right in the middle of the mission, when everyone’s already been out there for months, so they’ve sort of abandoned decorum for gassing each other with chemicals as a solution for workplace discourse. I will put my in depth thoughts under a cut because frankly, I would very very much like you to check out this podcast, because I like it a lot and want to see more people talking about it. Stick through at least season one and the beginning of season 2, it’s about a dozen episodes and it’s a quick listen to help you decide if you want to keep checking it out.

ok so my favorite things about it (non spoilers edition.)

-Really solidly written female characters. Like it’s genuinely enjoyable how much they share the same narrative weight as the male characters especially for a 2014 podcast.

-Character focused podcast 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 I love a story that is first and foremost about dissecting characters and their actions and I think Wolf 359 excels in this section of its writing. Doug Eiffel is a wonderful adventure in finding out what happens when a comedic relief character is confronted with being more than just his archetype.

-Ai storyline. Do you like robots? You should like my friend Hera. Everything happens to her. She sees everything all of the time, she knows so much more than you do, and she is physically unable to insult you to your face but I think she should do it anyways. I like. Her. She gets to get up to weird gay people stuff with a character that shows up later on and it leaves her changed in so many ways.

-Fucked up little scientist that I like. He’s Russian and you should listen to the podcast for the sole experience of comparing his voice in ep 1 to any ep in season 3. It’s funny.

ok specifics under the cut if you dare to hear my detailed thoughts before listening to the podcast

-Doug Eiffel’s character is genuinely one of the most interesting things to me. I talked about it in an older textpost but I love how Wolf 359 is a media not unfamiliar with immoral and nuanced characters and chooses to make sure that applies to not just its antagonists. The reveal in season 3 that he was a dad? And he like? Brutally impacted his kids life forever because of His Own shitty mistakes? And now he has to deal with that forever? Big. Massive even. Also part of the reason I have such a gripe with the finale of the show but it’s okay I think the show itself is still really worth it in spite of my mixed feelings on season 4.

-Isabel. ISABEEEEEEL. Isabel Lovelace is really good and the entirety of minisode 4 (I believe it’s 4?) kills me dead. She’s died not once, but twice! And lived! She’s tormented! She’s miserable! She’s the final girl! she’s a clone! She’s the original! I need to finish my relisten so I can get as weird about her as possible because fuck me does she have a fascinating storyline.

-That fuckass scientist. Hilbert. Heart. I can and have gone into depth about him before because I hate him. He’s like, peak for me vis a vis Wolf 359 and character dissection. Hes a horrible horrible man but the way he justifies his actions and how he views himself and what exactly his apathy is driven by fascinates me. This man died at 6 years old and has spent the rest of his life dragging the dead weight of his own corpse around while he works toward his unreasonable goals. I love him.

-Lovelace and Hilbert have a shared connection from before canon that makes me insane in a way I literally cannot describe. Type of dynamic that makes you so fucking nuts that I don’t just need you to hear me I need someone to grab at my brain and match my freak. I need more people to talk about them. They were friends and then they were enemies and also they understand each other more than anyone else. He killed her entire crew, but he’s the only member of her crew that’s left. He’s everything she lost and he’s all she has. She came back to tell him he isn’t allowed to forget what he did this time. They haunt each other. Blow them up now.

-Marcus Cutter is a deeply unsettling little man and I find him fascinating.

[atarathegreat]

I'm Tired, Love. Takashi Mitsuya.

Draken's death was hitting your boyfriend harder than you'd ever seen anything affect him. He stayed holed up in his office, never answered calls, not even from his sisters. It was unusual. Mitsuya always, at the very least, texted you back. It worried you, so you decided to go and visit him to check in on him.

Mitsuya's office was a brisk walk away from your home, the same home he hadn't returned to for days. You dressed up in some clothes that he had made you, hoping that would at least bring a smile to his face. But there was no such luck. When you walked in Mitsuya was already yelling at his sister, Luna, to leave him alone. "Just get out! I'm a grown man! I can take care of myself!" Mitsuya, who was typically soft spoken, was screaming and throwing things. He wasn't concerned with the impact it had, nor with the way his sister left crying. He wasn't Mitsuya.

Luna stopped for only a second to get a quick, comforting hug from you, "Good luck."

All of you had been trying to get Mitsuya to stop locking himself away, with zero success. He was obstinate, set in finishing the piece he was working on. A piece he had been making for Draken.

"Taka..." Your cautious voice earned an if-looks-could-kill glare. He wasn't in the mood for another lecture, and he made that obvious by the way he ignored you. If it had been a few years earlier, you would've accepted his silence and let him be alone. This was his blood brother who had died, and you couldn't just let him be alone anymore. Mitsuya hadn't shaved nor showered, and his hair was unkempt. There was no way this was him even close to the right state of mind. "Takashi, please." You sat next to him as he kept working on the clothing piece, "Please, you aren't taking care of yourself."

"You expect me to? This needs to be done for his funeral, I made a promise!" Mitsuya turned on you, shoving you away from him. He had promised Mikey that the piece would be done, and Draken could be buried in it, but Mikey wouldn't want Mitsuya to be driving himself into the ground like this. "His funeral is in a month, Taka, and you work fast. It will be done. Mikey doesn't want you to tire yourself out, you know that." You tried to reason with him. But he didn't seem to care.

Once again you were ignored and Mitsuya went back to his work.

"Draken wouldn't want you to work yourself to death over him." You whispered. Mitsuya paused and the atmosphere grew heavy, like an overly stuffed weighted blanket. There wasn't any time for you to process his movements when you were slammed against the floor. "Don't fucking talk like you knew Draken at all! You didn't! So shut the fuck up!" Mitsuya screamed in your face. It was so out of character for your boyfriend to be so...aggressive.

Silence was the only right answer with Mitsuya being like this. So you did just that. You stared up at him, silent and loving as he glared back, beautiful lavender orbs narrowed in anger and mourning with tears starting to glisten in his waterline. "Don't talk about him like you understood him...you didn't fucking understand..." Mitsuya slowly let his arms give out so he was laying on you, "...don't say shit like you know what you're talking about..."

The simple act of him giving out, him laying on you and letting your body be a sense of comfort, was all you needed to know that Mitsuya understood you were correct. The walk home was quiet, but at least he was done fighting you.

Mitsuya stared around the apartment he shared with you as you closed the door. "Let's get you in a shower first, I'll make dinner after." Mitsuya was glad to hear your soft voice after he'd been so rude to you in his office. "Will you remind me to call Luna and apologize?" But even as he asked, he was trying to figure out how to apologize for his behavior that he was pretty sure resulted in you hitting your head a little too hard.

"Of course. I'm sure she understands, though." You started the shower for him, "Just focus on trying to relax right now."

"Shower with me." He trapped you between him and the sink. No doubt, no hesitation. You let him help you undress, "I'm glad you came back home with me."

"Would you have left me alone if I hadn't?"

"Of course."

If he had needed more time to be alone, you would have allowed him that. Sometimes people just needed to fully grieve and accept the things that happened. And he'd just lost the only family that he felt understood him like no one else did.

But you... oh the way you seemed to just get him. It was different. Like you didn't understand him completely, but you didn't need to at the same time. As if he was the perfect mystery. Soft hands washed his hair and body, careful where you knew he was most sensitive. He was a sucker for eye contact, and you granted that for him as you washed behind his ears.

"Turn around, love." Mitsuya whispered, kissing your nose, "Grab hold of that wall for me." Maybe he was disgusting for thinking sex would keep you around after he bounced your head off the ground, but when he saw how easily you listened, how readily you gave yourself to him, he didn't care. "You're so soft, you know that?" Mitsuya's eyes rolled back as he pushed into your hole, "Soft and so easy to get lost in..."

Paper thin walls had you both keeping your voices down, the bathroom sounded like a soft-core porno where both the actors were actually getting into their bit. It was obvious that Mitsuya had checked out of his senses long ago, but this was peak out of his mind. Your velvety walls holding him just as gently as your hands washed his hair nearly caused him to absolutely be gone. "Taka~" You stepped one leg out, spreading wider just for him. "Just feel me, love, don't do anything else." Mitsuya panted, fingers digging in harshly as he tried to be gentle in his movements, "Just feel all of me. Feel all of me like I feel all of you."

Fuck, he loved how firm your cervix was against the head of his cock, as if you were trying to keep him from going as deep as he could. "Feels like fuckin' silk..." Mitsuya rested his head between your shoulder blades, "Sewn together just for me..."

Mitsuya cleaned you up before letting you even think about getting out of the shower, he'd made the mess after all. He only bothered to wrap a towel around his waist as he dried you off, one towel wrapped perfectly around your hair as he made sure the rest of you was as dry as could be. He knew you hated how your clothes felt on damp skin.

"Come here, Taka." You were already getting the razor and shaving cream out. He should've guessed that you were going to do that, but he really didn't want you to go that far out of your way. "I'm okay." Mitsuya smiled, "I'll shave in the morning."

"No you won't." You knew him better than that, and he was stupid for thinking you would let that happen. Mitsuya watched the way your ass and thighs jiggled as you hopped onto the little sink. "Come here." And it was final. You didn't ask twice, hell, you hadn't even asked the first time. Once more, Mitsuya gave in to your orders and stood between your knees so you could get his appearance together.

While you were busy, carefully shaving him, Mitsuya tenderly massaged your breasts. They were soft, like the rest of you. "This soft body...like velvet and silk molded together." He mumbled, grabbing his cock and gently pushing into you again, "I'm sorry, love. I-"

"It's okay, Taka." You were so focused on the task at hand, "Just move slow so I don't accidently cut you, yeah? Just process everything in your own way."

It crossed his mind that he probably was really disgusting for processing his friend's death through your pussy, but at the same time, you spoke so confidently. How was he not supposed to believe you? He kept to agonizingly slow movements, keeping you steady by your hips and staring into your eyes as you focused on where the blade was.