#and he REFUSES to be extracted once because he wants to keep doing good

[martianbugsbunny]

I don't love Alexsandr Kallus because he's some precious, perfect paragon of a man; that's not what he is. I love Alexsandr Kallus because he was absolutely horrible and he changed. He made amends. He uprooted literally his entire life out of remorse for what he'd done in the past and determination to do better in the future. He sacrificed everything he'd ever built because it was built on the pain and death of others and he didn't want that to be the sum of his life anymore. He went into a future where all he knew he could expect was to be hunted because he was once the hunter and he wanted to make up for it. He opened his damn eyes and he looked at what he'd done and he said this isn't right, I'm going to be different from now on if it kills me. I love Alexsandr Kallus because he changed.

[satansaidnottoday]

Filthy traitor.

Info: Belphegor x GN!Mc, OG Game.

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Can't stop thinking of Belphegor with an MC who was sweet and genuinely cared about him before the event. But then became extremely bitter because of his actions.

Warnings: Entrapment, Murder, Choking (not the sexy kind), Lesson 16 spoilers, Toxic Behavior.

He hated humans, all of them. He blamed them for everything: His sister's death, the fall, his brother's depression, and his imprisonment. If it wasn't for that stupid human student, and for the idiot demon lord who brought them, he wouldn't be trapped in the attic.

He should have killed them all, every last one of those stupid, useless, vain creatures. But from that cage, all he could do was cry and sleep and refuse to eat for long enough that Lucifer stopped coming to check on him.

When you finally arrived at the house he thought of punishing you. Haunting your dreams. Making you relive all of your most painful memories, repeating them so many times, until your brain turned into mush and your mind is lost forever.

But he realized he could use you to get out and get his revenge.

So when you gave in to his pleas for help and made your way to the attic, he played his best innocent act. You were just a poor, naive human. He could manipulate you, make anything of you. Then kill you off just as easily the moment he got what he wanted.

Even after you figured out he was the youngest brother, he still thought you were stupid. You kept helping him after all, like a good loyal puppy.

You went to see him every night. At first, you just sat there and talked to him, you told him about what had happened that day. Mammon's newest scheme, what Satan was reading that week, what Beel's new favorite food was. He engaged in the conversation only out of necessity, or at least that's what he told himself. He had to gather intel and convince you that he was on your side. So it really was just all part of the plan.

You started saving a portion of whatever dinner you were having that day and snuck it up to him. You told him it was so he didn't feel left out of the family dinner. What a stupid thing, he thought. He was being held captive by his own brother, he was not part of that family anymore.

But still, he ate. And he laughed along as you told him stories about his brothers. Sometimes he would tell you his own stories of them before everything had turned bitter. He found himself waiting around the door every night for your arrival, getting nervous if you ever were late, thinking you wouldn't come. But of course, you never failed to show up, not even once.

He started to think of you late at night after you had left. He wondered about you. For as much as you talked, you never said much about yourself. What kind of life did you have before? What were your hobbies? What were you thinking about that very moment? He started to ask about you during your visits, and with every answer came more questions.

He told himself he was interested only because he was bored. You were his only source of entertainment, it was only natural. And of course, he'd want to extract every drop of information that could be useful. He was using you after all.

You saw through him. The fake smile he had while you were leaving. He was deeply, undeniably lonely. Every day you brought him more things, little gifts and trinkets. Books and games to keep him company in your absence. But you knew it wasn't enough. It would never be.

And you worked so hard every day. You had learned from Solomon that you could draw from a demon's power if you had a pact with them. You could use it for your own magic, and you did just that. You trained with Solomon every day, learning to control the magic flowing through your body. You knew with enough power and practice you'd be able to set him free.

You had to free him.

So he could be happy. So he could be with his people again. So he could heal with them. And maybe, if you were lucky, so he'd be yours.

And the fateful day came when you knew you were ready. With Mammon's help and an enchantment you had practiced a thousand times before, you broke the seal keeping him from you. Immense joy shocked your body. You had done it, finally. You proved to him just how much you loved and cared for him. You wanted nothing more than to hold him.

All of his rage fell on you like boiling hot water. Your body slammed to the floor, blood seeping from the crack in your skull. The air left your lungs. Before you could try to breathe in again, his hands tied themselves around your neck. You felt your body growing limp, you could almost see yourself dying.

Yes, you could. You saw your corpse there on the floor. What killed you in the end? Was it the blood loss? Or were it his hands? You wondered. You could also see Belphegor's smile. A genuine smile.

Everything changed in a moment.

As he saw the life leave your eyes, he realized something horrible. Something terrifying.

He loved you. He loved you so deeply and so desperately. Regret replaced all of his anger, all of his sadness, even his grief. He could not feel anything else.

Your corpse mocked him. It held your form, but nothing was left inside. He could not reach you. And he needed you.

Oh, how much he needed you.

This ended up longer than expected so I'll be dividing it into two parts. Hope you liked it and thanks for reading!

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

this fear is a part of me (please don't take my hope away)

this lust is a burden that we both share - series masterlist here

pairing: din djarin x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1k

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings: reader has vulnerability issues but it all works out, din is trying so so hard

a/n: new verse ok ok ok lemme know what y'all think

"It's a nice home," you admit, eyeing the house that's been given to Din, refusing to acknowledge the way he's staring at you. Your heart aches in your chest when you think of it, of him and his son and his home. It's a stark contrast to the cold, quiet, solitary metal of your ship that you know is waiting for you. You spin around to face Din fast enough that he lurches back a fraction.

"Well," you begin, chin lifted and face resolute. "It'll be good for the two of you. Reach out if you need anything," is all you say before you move to walk past him, away from him, beyond him.

Din stops you, though, a hand across your hips to pull you back with a gentleness you shouldn't be surprised by anymore. 

"It's not a home for two," he murmurs, his voice halting. Vulnerability isn't something that comes easily to either of you. "It… it doesn't have to be."

"You want me to stay?" you prompt, your voice devoid of its usual teasing lilt. Din nods, his arm tightening around your waist. You look at him pointedly. He sighs.

"Yes. I want you to stay."

"You know what that means, don't you?" You step away from him. His fingers twitch as he reels himself in, stopping himself from reaching for you. "This is… commitment. This is serious. This is different."

"My love…" Din begins, a layer of hurt seeping into his voice that makes you dig your nails into your palms. Always hurting, you think to yourself. You will always hurt him. "I understand commitment more than anything else. This is what I want… with you. With our son." Din's voice is sombre as he speaks, his words prompting you to glance at where Grogu's chasing frogs in front of his new home - in front of your new home, if you let it be.

"Your son," is what you fire back, though, the panic of having something good clouding your rationality - the fear of having something that can be taken away.

"Our son," Din corrects firmly, stepping towards you. You tense like an animal ready to bolt, but you don't run. Progress, Din supposes. "This is your family as much as it's mine. This is your home, as much as it's mine. I wouldn't say that unless I understood the severity of it."

You sigh, your shoulders dropping as your fists unclench. There's a solidness about him, a resoluteness that turns him into a fixed point for his family to lean on when they need to. He has never stumbled underneath your weight, and you think it might be unfair to expect that he suddenly will now. You look at him through his helmet and let your brows furrow as you try to gauge his reaction to your snapping, to your walls closing up. He seems to take your relaxing posture as a sort of victory, though, because he steps towards you again, reaching forward to brush his gloved fingers against yours. You let your fingers intertwine with his, holding his hand firmly enough to convince yourself that he won't disappear from in front of you - that this good thing is here to stay.

"I'm sorry," you murmur gently, letting your head thump against his shoulder. He relaxes at the feeling of you pressing your face to his neck and breathing him in, squeezing your hand gently in his while his other strokes up and down your back.

"There is nothing to forgive, my love," he assures with a softness that's reserved for you alone. "This isn't easy for either of us. What matters is that we do it together."

"Together," you mumble in agreement, nodding as you keep your face pressed against him. He huffs out what's almost a laugh, letting you take your time in extracting yourself from him. Once you're standing tall again, chin lifted and eyes regaining their confidence, he squeezes your hand once more.

"Where do we go from here?" is all Din asks, gaze fixed on you.

"Home, I suppose," is your airy response as you stare at the little house you can now call yours. Din feels his heart thump in his chest at your declaration of home, of sharing something like that with him. He breathes deeply, steadying himself against the onslaught of emotions that are thrown at him by those simple words.

"I always had a home in the covert," he says, shifting uneasily on his feet. It's rare for him to divulge anything too personal, even this far into your relationship. You look at him earnestly, the breeze settling around the two of you as you watch Grogu chase frogs out of the corner of your eye.

"Even when I was… an apostate," Din continues, "then it was about finding a way back to that home. But it was always there - always something to fall back on. You…?" He doesn't continue, just stares at you through the slit of his helmet and you know he's giving you an out. You know he won't force you to talk about your past, about where you came from or what you left behind.

"I think it was about… finding one," you say eventually. "I never - I didn't a home to fall back to. But I wanted one, even when I couldn't really admit that to myself." You turn back towards your house - your home, now. One that you would share with your family. "Didn't think I'd ever actually get one, though," you add quietly, a confession whispered so softly Din almost doesn't hear it. 

"You have it now," he assures you, wrapping an arm around your waist and using his other hand to cup your cheek gently, turning you to face him so that he can press the cool beskar of his helmet against your forehead. "You're home now."

[lnkedmyheart]

Dazai's queerness exists only in the source material and not in the anime. In the anime it is clear that there are attempts to up the heavy more in your face fanservice moments, regardless of the partner, be it Chuuya or Sigma or whomever the studio decides to pair him with for the season. However, the anime actively excludes scenes that actually suggest or imply any attraction he may have had to the men in his life. From the complete erasure of Dazai's fascination with and behaviour towards Chuuya the anime takes away any actual moment that might suggest anything. The sterilization of their bond is so egregious that even their canon dynamic is non existent in the anime. The complete masacre of the entrance exam arc ruins his entire dynamic with Kunikida. A lot of his remarks and descriptions that suggest any queerness in him are entirely extracted from the story and tossed aside. Not only does this make him come across as inhuman and completely changes his personality and motivation, it also takes away a huge part of what makes him tick. Dazai in the manga and the light novels and mayoi is actively seeking something to keep living for and finds it in silly little things, he keeps forcing himself forward one day at a time and is self sacrificing and feels far too much. He understands the human mind and adores it and respects it while denying hinself the same affection, only gently nudging the people into directions of their own choosing instead of outright manipulating them unless absolutely necesarry. This is what makes him different from Fyodor and Fyodor doesnt understand that. The anime on the other hand makes Dazai this charming, manipulative, fake, unfeeling guy who actively uses people like puppets making him strikingly similar to Fyodor. The only reason you know he isnt like Fyodor is because the man says so himself. The text of the show itself is showing you the exact opposite because it has slowly stripped away all of Dazai's humanity to push him as the prettyboy asshole fanservice Chad who flirts with men causr it will bring in views while showing not an ounce of the affection and care he felt towards 2 of the 3 prominant male figures still living in his life. The random bits tossed in of Atsushi believing Dazai is inherently good come across as naive instead of perceptive because we dont see Dazai being human to those around him, Dazai's claim about his motivation setting him apart from Fyodor feels like bland exposition dumps to push the plot forward and to hammer home that Dazai is the good guy because there is nothing to actually help you differentiate him from Fyodor in the anime.

In the manga you can tell something about Dazai is very off during meursault, from his obvious distress when he confirmed Chuuya was the intruder, him being overly giddy and faking his entire persona for all of the 10 minutes he has known Sigma with only maybe 1 complete minute of his genuine desire to protect someone slipping past his facade. Even Dazai's extremely consistent tendency to avoid touching people skin on skin and prefering to pinch their hair or clothes unless absolutely necesarry got tossed out the window for the dance scene, when Dazai hasn't once touched Sigma's skin directly in the manga.

And the knowlegde of his dynamic with Chuuya and Dazai's behaviour towards him in the light novels, manga and mayoi tell you something is off about the drowning and that Fyodor is wrong about their bond. The anime strips away all his connections to Chuuya and makes it feel less off because the bond doesnt actually exist there outside of the dialogues to smack you over the head with.

Anime Dazai is a man that everyone wants you to believe is a good guy but he really isnt. He is an asshole only doing good things cause he made a promise to a dead friend.

Manga Dazai IS a good man who has been trying to make up for his past and refuses to believe himself capable of redemption. To him Oda's words are a guidepost, not a decree that he is forced to follow. You SEE his humanity and goodness in his actions and you see he always had the potential to care and feel even at his darkest and lowest.

Going back to the comment about his queerness, just like how the anime is forcing you to see Dazai as a good guy by telling you that he is a good guy, the anime has stripped off all his affection and remarks that suggest he is queer and now any scene that is actually important between skk is reduced to needless fanservice because they dont have that bond from the light novels that explain why Dazai is so tender with Chuuya post corruption. And by extension by the removal of all of Dazai's most genuine moments with the men in his life he is reduced to a typical fanservice character.

[smallmightsupremacy]

So that translation was... something. A good one? Well, that's up for debate. Personally, I think that it's a bit iffy, and decided to make a post about why I think that way along with my own personal translation of that scene (you know the one) (disclaimer: I am by no means fluent in Japanese so take what I say with a grain of salt and please, for the love of god, correct me if I get anything wrong)

So before I get into why this isn't a good translation of the Japanese version, I just want to say that even when you don't consider the Japanese version and just look at what's being said in this panel, it doesn't make a lot of sense for Katsuki's character to be saying something like this at this point in the story. Like, it sounds like he's saying "OFA isn't strong enough to stop you but my quirk is" and it's just insinuating that he believes he's on par, perhaps even stronger and more capable than OFA. That itself seems like something a very early bully Kacchan would say, and it just takes away a lot of his growth. I refuse to believe that current Katsuki "Izuku will I reach you someday?" Bakugou thinks that he's still above and better than OFA. Making him say something like that to me just seems like all his growth has been thrown out the window. Now moving on to the actual translation, I'm going to break down the Japanese for you guys and explain how I got to my own translation:

Okay, so after using a Japanese keyboard, this was the kanji I extracted from the page to use: "OFAに拭えねーもんは こつち で 拭うつてな ぁああ!!!"

So if we break down the first line, we can see there are four parts to it: OFA, に .... は,  拭えねー, もん (OFA, the particles, the verb, the noun) Now, I'm not exactly sure what the particles do in this context, and I don't want to feed anyone false information, so I won't be touching on that. However, the verb 拭えねー (nuguenee) is a negation that originates from the base (nuguu) 拭う which means to wipe. It can also mean 'to get rid of', which I think better suits this context so we'll go with that and make nuguenee mean 'can't get rid of'. Finally, the noun もん (mon) can be used as a word to say a thing or object. So when you put that all together, the sentence 'OFAに拭えねーもんは' roughly translates to: "What OFA can't get rid of (handle)"

Moving onto the next line: 'こつち で 拭うつてな ぁああ!!!' Once again there are 4 parts to it: こっち (Kocchi) which means here when talking about a place in close proximity to the speaker 拭う (Nuguu) which means to wipe or get rid of in this context

なあああ (Naa) which can be used when you express what you feel or think

And the rest are particles, which, once again, I won't be touching on

So what do we get when we put this all together? こつち で 拭うつてな ぁああ!!! = 'I'll get rid of (handle) right here!!!"

So the full translation? 'What OFA can't handle, I'll handle right here!!!' Now, I know that my Japanese is by no means amazing and that I probably made a few mistakes along the way... but I do feel like Katsuki saying something along the lines of 'what OFA can't handle' instead of 'OFA couldn't keep you in the ground' gives Izuku a lot more credit and makes it seem less like Katsuki thinks lowly of him and more like he wants to help out. Okay okay. So now you may be wondering why I used 'handle' when translating the verb (拭う) nuguu into english after I told you that it means to wipe/eliminate. Well, let's take a look at the apology scene, particularly the bit where Kats tells Izuku 'we're here to step in when you can't handle it all on your own'

If you haven't noticed it yet, nuguenee (拭えね) is used here to mean 'can't handle' as well. I'd like to think that Horikoshi deliberately chose nuguu as the verb to mean to handle in this most recent chapter to be a callback to the apology and Katsuki following through with his promise. It makes his apology feel even more genuine than it already was because he's following through on his words. That's the part I'm most upset about. The English translation has no callback to the apology when Horikoshi deliberately made the stylistic choice to use that specific kanji for the sake of having it be a reminder of Katsuki's growth and development/that chapter. It's a shame that the English translation seems to have the opposite effect.

But those are just my thoughts 🤷‍♀️ let me know what you think!!

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "The Antilles Extraction"

WEDGE WEDGE WEDGE WEDGE!

Hey, they had the budget to give at least one of these Rebel commanders a face!

This opening scene with the unfortunate redshirts serves two major purposes:

Establishes that the Rebellion needs pilots, and not just pilots but good pilots. (Recall the hilarity that in Legends canon they tested Wedge repeatedly for Force Sensitivity because they refused to believe he was just that good, lol.)

And it sets a baseline of the cruelty we can expect from the Empire. They wipe out this whole flotilla, even though the transport surrendered and is unarmed. Call Forward to Saw's Modus Operandi perhaps? At the very least hinting at the kind of blind dogmatic fanaticism the Empire encourages in its ranks.

Important to note: When the tips of a TIE are painted like that... that's an ace. That is someone you do not want to mess with in aerial combat.

Once again, the A-wings get a really raw deal in this show.

Hngh, Ezra's hopeful expression when Sato mentions "Fulcrum", he was so ready to believe that Ahsoka had somehow survived. *cries*

I think everyone in fandom and their dog guessed that the new Fulcrum was Kallus, lol. Once again, really should have gotten to see some of that arc onscreen. Didn't have to be much, just a scene or two here and there showing him researching into the Geonosian massacre or something and then attempting to get in touch with the Rebellion.

Ezra's objections to Sabine going in undercover play a little bit back into his overactive Hero Complex, that the holocron took advantage of to tempt him. Even though he's sworn off the Dark Side at this point, the underlying causes for why he was flirting with it in the first place--to prevent anything else bad from happening to the people he cares about--are still in effect. So having to wait in the wings and surrender control of an uncertain situation that could prove dangerous to his family is still going to be a source of distress for him.

Unfortunately, as Hera points out, Ezra's face has acquired lots more notoriety (at least in Imperial school circles), so Sabine's the one who's gotta do it this time. And she does not sound too eager about it lol.

This show is so good at lovely environments.

Sabine is the tiniest one there lol.

Kanan putting a supportive hand on Ezra's shoulder 'cause he knows Ezra's worrying. <333

"I'm just not a fan of these solo missions." "Unless it's you." That is kind of how his Hero Complex works, he doesn't want anyone else putting themselves in harm's way, would rather take on the dangers himself so that nothing bad happens to anyone else.

("Tari did the fandom have uncharitable interpretations of this moment too?" Ohhhhh yes you betcha. Fandom, please let the boys care about and worry for their women without turning it into some kind of chauvinism PLEASE.)

Oh wow, that was a snippet of Luke's theme transposed to minor key, that was a brilliant musical move.

HI WEDGE!

Officer Prissypants immediately shutting down any attempt for the cadets to maintain their individual personhood, insisting on callsigns only. See fandom, this what actual cult-like indoctrination looks like.

(Probably one of the reasons Wedge was bristling under their control, he's got too big a force of personality to keep under wraps.)

So another reason why I think the hints of Force Sensitive!Sabine in the Ahsoka trailers have to be a big red herring or else a giant-ass dumb retcon? Recall if you will the Empire has methods of testing for Force Sensitivity, if anything about Sabine's skills as a pilot here had pinged them as a little too good they would have flagged her and called for an Inquisitor to come investigate. (Even given that we lost three at Malachor.)

Or you know... just shot her.

Oh look, basically the same in-field situation they just showed us in the opening! Designed as a test of pilot loyalty: Unquestioningly follow these orders to blow up this ship or you're a filthy traitor to the Emperor.

We can see now a glimpse of how the Empire suppresses all individual thinking, personality, creativity, and humanity in its members, turns them into mindless drones to be pointed as weapons towards the Empire's enemy. Also that the Empire nominally has standards that purport to offer a sense of fair play and moral rule, but that it will immediately ignore its own rules when it suits them, again, in order to go after and obliterate its enemies.

Rebels said watch out for anyone who tells you not to ask questions or express doubts or concerns and who operates on Rules For Thee.

Love that they put the Ghost in the simulation lol.

You gotta know Sabine is chafing under this reprimand from Vult Skerris (the ace in our opener), this is her cadet days all over again, being told to sit down and shut up like a good girl and not worry her pretty little head off.

Wedge already admiring Sabine for her guts and dropping narrative hints that he's one of the defectors. We knew this already, of course, because it's Wedge, but still.

HI HI PRYCE! HI KALLUS. :D

Kallus must be so frustrated that ISB sent him personally to root out the sympathizers they learned about lol.

(Unless he volunteered for it himself, to try and cover their escape and help them if he could?)

Lol the stink eye he gives Pryce.

Sabine lucks out and stumbles across the very self-same sympathizers conversing in the hallway and of course no one is surprised to see Wedge.

Really can't praise the environment and lighting work on this show enough.

Sabine carefully feels Wedge out and confirms he's a defector and reveals herself.

Welcome to the Rebellion, hope you're good at Indy Ploys lolol.

Ezra's agitated pacing as he worries about Sabine. <3

And Kanan speaking directly to the insecurities and anxieties and fears that drove Ezra to consult the Sith holocron.

(Once again the parallels to Anakin "I need to be powerful enough to stop people from dying" Skywalker are great. The heart of Jedi philosophy is realizing you are not in control, and letting go of your fear of loss. Per Lucas, it doesn't mean you don't fight to preserve life if you can, but that if it is their time, you accept it. You don't go down into Hades to get them back, you don't break the laws of the universe to spare yourself that pain. You love them, and let them pass away. You let go.)

Ezra's immediate, "Of course I trust her." awwwwww.

Ahhh Kallus went along to be all, "We have investigated ourselves thoroughly and have found we have done nothing wrong." re. the defectors.

Hi Hobbie! Hi redshirt that absolutely bites it because we don't know him from the OT!

Still loving how Sabine is tinier than everyone there.

"These Rebels you say are waiting for us, do you trust them?" "With my life." UNQUESTIONING FAITH IN EZRA TO SWOOP IN AND SAVE HER AWWWW.

Yeah yeah Kanan is there too but Ezra's the one in the command seat LET ME HAVE THIS IT'S CUTE.

"Come on Ezra... where are you?" See, Sabine specifies him too.

The Rebel Alliance fanfare as the CR90 jumps in, yay!

"Sabine? Hope we're not too late." "Right on time." Sue me, I love cute banter.

And I hear the "Shenanigans" cue in heroic horns there.

Pryce reveals herself to be Actually Pretty Clever, having rigged the TIEs with kill switches beforehand.

HA HA HA HA NOT THE LAST TIME SABINE WOULD PLEAD WITH EZRA TO ESCAPE A PERILOUS SITUATION. *weeps in finale feelings*

And he still hates leaving people behind. But Kanan's right, they have to apply some Jedi non-attachment in this case or risk being unable to help her later. On account of, you know, being dead themselves.

:(

Pryce waltzes in being fabulously nasty and effortlessly reveals Sabine. Kinda wonder if the Imps just had this interrogation table on hand or if Pryce brought it with her.

Ooof Sabine's comment to Kallus here about "they found someone to do your job" had to hurt.

Have I mentioned I love Pryce yet? I love her, she's so casually patronizing and cruel and I adore that she's also a pretty effective brawler.

Love this little fight, it's not pretty or civilized at all, all grappling and dirty tricks.

Wedge is not quite skilled enough in the Indy Plot to pull off escapes like Ezra and Sabine yet lololol.

"Tell Garazeb Orrelios we're even." <333333 I love him.

Shades of Poe Dameron in Wedge's "I can fly anything." boast.

We sacrificed speed for durability, a smart decision when up against an ace like Skerris, actually. The bomber takes three direct hits without shattering like a normal TIE would. And Wedge handles it with much more maneuverability that it'd normally be flown.

Ho ho man this hero shot of the CR90 emerging from the clouds. :)

More adorable Sabezra banter. <333

Lol Hobbie not giving Sabine his real name (Derek Klivian btw) so she has to awkwardly give his nickname to Sato.

And congrats, we have successfully completed another Friendship Fetch Quest!

I remember being kind of bored with this episode the first time around (Sabine was kind of the least interesting member of the main cast for me, up until Season Three) but I think I appreciate it a lot more now. The look into the workings of the Imperial propaganda and indoctrination machine is illuminating, Wedge is pretty cute and it's nice to see him before he was a noted Rebel hero, and Ezra's concern over Sabine makes my shipper heart warm.

Amazingly, however, we managed to completely avoid getting any kind of backstory for Sabine out of an episode where she literally goes back to an Imperial Academy. So I guess if I had to nitpick this episode it might have been kind of nice to see her have to struggle a little bit more with being there, besides the one regretful look in the beginning and the bristling at her reprimand in the middle.

But aside from that, this episode was actually a pretty nice one.

[chickensarentcheap]

In a Heartbeat: Chapter Two

FANDOM: EXTRACTION

PAIRING: TYLER RAKE AND ESME DRUMMOND (ESTABLISHED OFC)

WARNINGS: angst. Big time angst.

SUMMARY:  Dhaka nearly ended everything before it even began.  In it’s aftermath and with Tyler’s life teetering on the threshold between life and death, Esme is about to realize just how strong she can be.  And that love happens when it happens. There’s no rules. No rhyme or reason. No timeline.  

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48691714/chapters/125445052

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @munstysmind @karimac @kmc1989 @thebewingedjewelcat @ninjasawakenedmystar @residentdormouse @asirensrage @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @themaradwrites @occommunity @timbradfordsboot

My tag list is OPEN. Please let me know if you'd like to be added :)

******

Chapter Text

“Nik found us a little place,” Esme announces, as she tends to his beard; using a pocket comb to make her way through the wiry hair. “In Austria. Just on the outskirts of Gmunden. It looks really pretty; it’s right on the edge of a lake and it’s surrounded by trees and you can look out at the mountains.”

Reaching for a pair of cuticle scissors that rest on his chest, she chews on her bottom lip as she focuses on snipping the wiry hair. The gray is more noticeable now that his beard is longer and thicker, and she momentarily pauses her work and carefully studies his face and hair; enjoying how the strands of silver sparkle in the sunlight that streams into the room. They’re a sign of wisdom and experience; testaments to life often lived on the edge that take up residence at his temples, the nape of his neck, and throughout the wild top tresses.

“You know…” She uses the comb to sweep his bangs off his forehead and away from his eyes. “…I’m really digging this older guy vibe you’ve got going on. It’s kinda sexy; all the gray hair you’ve sprouted over the past five months. Once you hit fifty? You are going to be one hell of a hot silver fox. I’m going to have to beat the women off with a stick. And probably a few men.”

Returning to the task at hand, she carefully trims the hair above his top lip; mindful of the combination of breathing and feeding tubes that have been keeping him alive and nourished. When it became apparent that she was going to continue to ‘stand off’ against them, the doctors had -albeit reluctantly- switched their course of care; ordering the nurses to teach Esme the basics in case they’re ever short-staffed and other patients need to be of higher priority. She knows their excuses are bullshit; that they’re simply tired of her constant presence and her refusal to spare them the work of looking after someone they’ve already written off as a loss. And she’s also aware that they’re just biding their time until legal paperwork is drawn up and processed; licking their lips in anticipation of when they can serve her with a court order to have him removed from the machines.

Yet their pressure -both passive and actively aggressive- doesn’t sway her. Despite being both physically and mentally exhausted, she is staying the course; digging her heels in even deeper and willingly and readily accepting any ‘task’ they want to assign her.

“I am NOT very good at this,” Esme laments, as she returns to trimming his beard. “I am definitely not cut out to be a hair stylist, that’s for sure. You know what we’re going to do as soon as you’re out of here? Get you to a good barber. Because you’re starting to look homeless and unloved and I don’t need some bleeding heart picking you up off the street like you’re a stray.”

She hums as she works; upbeat show tunes and Beatles medleys that help keep her spirits up. They’ve been waning lately; the darkness she’d successfully fought off for so long now a near-constant presence. In two weeks it will be six months since he was declared ‘clinically dead’ and placed on the respirator. Half a year since she’d last seen him open his eyes and heard his voice; vividly able to recall those last few minutes that they’d spent together in Dhaka. Tucked away in that litter-strewn alley as dawn broke around them, unabashedly crying when he broke the news that he was going to send her off with Saju and Ovi. There was a better chance she’d make it there -and successfully get across the bridge- if they split up; he’d act as a decoy by creating chaos within the heart of town and drawing the enormous police and military presence away from the checkpoints. He’d admitted he wouldn’t be able to focus if she was with him; afraid he’d become so obsessed with her safety and well-being that he’d make simple, stupid mistakes. And in turn, cause BOTH of their demises.

On her part, there’d been anger. Confusion. Heartache. She’d initially lashed out at him and accused him of lying to her over the course of the last five days; none of the softer and adoring words had been true, and neither had been the hopes for a future or their plans to travel together. And when she’d seen the hurt that darkened his eyes and furrowed his brow and tensed his shoulders, she had changed her tactic; begging and pleading with him to change his mind. She’d be able to handle herself. Promising that she’d stick tight to him and wouldn’t be a burden or a distraction; he’d be able to focus on the job at hand. After all, he was the first person that had ever made her feel safe and secure. Protected. And it absolutely terrified her to have that suddenly snatched away.

It had felt like hours had passed since their initial goodbye; still feeling the callouses on his skin as he gently cradled her cheek in his palm, her lips still tingling from that long, shockingly tender kiss. And those words…spoken just before they parted…still echoing in her ears.

“I’ll see you when I see you.”

It was the second time he’d said it. In less than thirty-six hours. Just that very morning he’d unexpectedly dropped it upon; a genuinely tender and hopeful moment as they parted ways at the extraction point. The drive there had been spent in silence; Tyler making the quick and effortless transition from the soft-spoken and attentive man she’d been intimate and shared secrets with to ruthless and calculated mercenary.

Yet it hadn’t frightened her. His mere presence and his smell and the glances and reassuring smiles he’d cast in her direction made sure of that. He may have become ‘all business’, but the other Tyler was just lingering just at the surface; the one that had shared his deepest and darkest confessions with her and who’d cried when talking about his son and his fight with cancer and the horrible decision he’d made prior to his death. And who’d shown every end of the sexual spectrum during their times behind closed doors; rough and aggressive and domineering one moment, slow and tender and worshipping the next.

She had never met anyone like him. In more ways than one.

And it was right before she began her trek through the forest and towards the river when it became abundantly clear that every kiss they’d shared, every secret spilled, every tear they’d shed, had all been real. He had meant the words he’d said; the excitement he’d shown at the idea of travelling together and of even seeing her birthplace and meeting her family. And the optimism he’d shown when talking about the possibility of a future…a REAL future…together.

Although a simple moment, it had seemed so deeply personal and intimate; the way he’d pulled that bulletproof vest over her head and made sure it was tightly and securely fastened. Already so protective; forgetting about her own background in the military and her years spent on the job in his quest and desire to keep her safe and sound. No one had ever made her feel that way before; nurturing and adoring and caring instead of being indifferent or malicious in both their words and their actions.

While Mark and all his cruel words and taunts, beatings and sexual assaults had stripped her of every ounce of trust in men, it had taken Tyler less than a week to restore not only her faith in others, but the most primal of needs and urges. Sex had never been a priority; it’s hard to find yourself THAT attracted to someone when you’d spent years having the most basic and most vile and degrading acts forced upon you. But with Tyler, it had been near instantaneous. An attraction that she’d felt the moment of their introduction in the outback; when one of those enormous, calloused and scarred hands had practically swallowed one of her own. The stories alone should have left her intimidated; the scores of incredibly dangerous missions he’d been involved in and the trails of blood and rotting corpses he left behind.

It was his eyes. Brilliant yet soulful blue; a humanity and a tenderness that he kept buried just under the surface. He wasn’t as broken or as soulless as he perceived himself to be; not truly the empty shell that he saw when he looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn’t turned to stone despite the hardships of the life he’d been living; instead his grief, guilt, and heartache so enormous and overwhelming that they left him numb and jaded to anything beyond his four walls. His addictions were proof that he was still very much alive; a troubled, lonely, touch-starved man that sought out unhealthy ways to ease both his physical and mental suffering.

She’d been privy to those sides he’d long buried. In the same way she had so blindly and wholly trusted him, he had done the same with her. Speaking openly and honestly about his son and the cancer that had not only robbed him of his life, but his father’s comforting and loving presence in those final moments. He spoke about his alcoholism and his addiction to pain meds; how he’d tried to stop on many occasions but found the suffering just too difficult to bear. And he confessed to the death wish he’d been carrying around since he’d abandoned his child; not really wanting a sniper’s bullet to cut him down in the middle of the job, but wholeheartedly believing he deserved it.

While he’d wanted to change and continued to desperately cling to any semblance of life, he didn’t quite know how to tackle his demons or fix the issues that surrounded him. He’d never been taught healthy coping mechanisms; not allowed to mourn the loss of his mother or to even show some glimmer of emotion during her funeral or those long days and nights of grieving that followed. It was a sign of weakness, after all. A real man didn’t react from the heart, let alone speak from it. And his father would simply not allow a ‘fragile and pathetic’ man to live under his roof.

And then one day, after years of beatings and cruelty, that abused and tormented child transformed into a deeply troubled man. Saddled with decades of trauma and toxic masculinity that his father had so viciously beat into him.

“I’ll see you when I see you.”

He’d spoken those words after making sure every piece of velcro on her vest was attached ‘just right’, then grabbed hold of the shoulder straps and pulled her into a kiss. It had been long and languid and heartbreakingly tender; nowhere near as intense and hungry and desperate as those they’d shared over the course of five days, but incredible in its own right. A kiss that held so much promise and a tinge of worry. A potent mixture of hope, optimism, and fear. The best-case scenario would be that the job went according to plan; he’d successfully rescue Ovi and return to the extraction point in less than two hours’ time. Unscathed. After that they’d be free; they’d get to safety, collect their money, and make good on all the plans they’d made. The worst-case scenario was the mission being an epic failure. And their parting words -ones made with the best intentions- would turn out to be a permanent goodbye.

********

It feels like a lifetime ago. Mahajan’s double-crossing, the brutal and untimely deaths of their team members, Saju’s relentless hunt in a desperate bid to save his own family. So many things had gone wrong in such a short period of time; a struggle to survive in litter-strewn alleys and sewers filled with feces, garbage, and rats. They hadn’t had a chance to relax; unable to catch their breath before the next disaster came charging full speed ahead. And it was out of desperation that Tyler had played the one card he still had up his sleeve; someone he’d known for years and had always been able to trust. After all, he’d saved the man’s life on more than one occasion. If that wasn’t deserving of even the tiniest bit of help, what was?

Neither could have known - as they lay in a mess of tangled sheets and naked limbs in the bed of Gaspar’s guest room, that the worst was yet to come. Holding onto a semblance of hope that they’d walked through the fires of hell and somehow lived to tell about it. Believing they’d simply lie low for a couple of days and then be on their way; wait for the pandemonium to settle and then move about somewhat freely and easily.

Only friends are sometimes your worst enemies. Gaspar’s allegiance with Asif and his subsequent betrayal had led to disaster; an attempt to kill Tyler in order to get his hands on her and Ovi and the ten million dollar ‘prize’ that he’d be rewarded with. And in the end, it had been the fifteen-year-old that had pulled the trigger; saving all of their lives yet setting the stage for what would be the most difficult hour of their entire lives.

Crossing the bridge.

It’s still so vivid. The wails of the injured and the dying. The smell of fire, gunpowder and spilt gasoline. The pollution wafting off the filthy water. The blistering sun and the suffocating humidity. The taste of her own sweat as it dripped from her nose and gathered along her top lip. And the blood. So much blood. Covering her hands and staining her clothes. The scent of copper as it hung heavily in the air. And the fear and panic in Tyler’s eyes as he straddled the threshold between life and death. His body impossibly heavy as it lay across her lap; his battered and bloodied hands desperately clutching the front of her shirt as he gasped for breath.

She briefly closes her eyes; pushing back the flood of tears and the painful, traumatic memories. Still unable to think about those moments before help had finally arrived; how minutes had seemed hours as she sat -a filthy, sobbing, terrified mess- with her fingers shoved in the bullet wound in order to staunch his heavy bleeding. Wondering if perhaps her efforts would be all for nothing; Asif’s remaining men making their way to the bridge and discovering them there. Alive Tyler would immediately be killed; they would have made sure she watched as they put a bullet -or several- into his already beaten and broken body. Her fate would have been so much worse; likely kept captive -for days, weeks, even MONTHS- and abused in every possible way. All she would have been able to do was suffer through it; unable to fight back against the strength and the power -and the amount- of her attackers. She’d never been a praying person; she didn’t necessarily believe or not believe when it came to a higher power. But during moments of solitude, she would have begged and pleaded to anyone…anything…to permanently end her torment.

Gathering her composure, she shoves all thoughts of Dhaka aside and returns to the task at hand; slowly and carefully trimming his beard, mindful of the hairs that crowd close to the ventilation and feeding tubes. She misses his face; the one that wasn’t taken over by life-saving measures. It’s been so long since she’s seen it; whether it be that slow, boyish smile or that sly, almost mischievous smirk or the intensity that narrows his eyes and furrows his brow. And his eyes; a brilliant, captivating blue that can quickly transform to dark and stormy. She’d been privy to so many things during those five days in Dhaka; body language and facial expressions and sides to him that he’d never allowed anyone else to see.

And she’s not ready to give any one of them up.

“So about this place. In Austria…” She moves to the bedside table and opens the top drawer; placing the comb and scissors inside and then picking up a pair of nail clippers. “…I think it’s perfect for us. It’s in the middle of nowhere; surrounded by trees and mountains and it’s right on the water. It’s got two bedrooms and one and a half baths and the cutest open-concept living room and kitchen combo. It’s not luxurious by any stretch of the imagination, but it IS comfortable. Quaint. And I don’t think we need much more than that, do you?”

Picking up his right hand, she patiently and gently tends to his nails. “I mean, I know it’s going to be pretty damn cold in the winter. And there’s going to be a lot of snow. But I’m used to it. I grew up in Colorado, remember? I know it’ll be a hard adjustment for an Aussie; you’re used to sun and sand and surf. But I think you’ll do alright. Actually, I KNOW you’ll do alright.”

When the conversation runs dry, she once more returns to humming as she works; finishing the rest of his nails before applying a hospital-provided moisturizer to both hands. Concentrating on the callouses on his palms and the one on the tip of his trigger finger; working the coconut-scened lotion into rough, thickened skin.

“I bet you haven’t been pampered like this in a long time,” she says, as she firmly massages his wrists, fingers, and thumbs. Diligently working at loosening the ligaments and tendons that have tightened over the course of the last six months. “If EVER. And I don’t mean to make it sound like I hate doing this, but buddy, you owe me one hell of a back rub when we finally get the hell out of here.”

It helps. Talking about the ‘when’ instead of the ‘if’. It’s the one thing that has kept her grounded and sane for half of a year; the plans they’d made and her determination to see them through. As long as she holds onto that little bit of hope, she hasn’t lost complete control of the situation; managing to keep death lingering at a comfortable distance while she navigates the grey and the gloom between here and there. If she allows herself to use the word ‘maybe’, she’s written him off; handed him the same death sentence that all the doctors and even Nik and Yaz have burdened him with. She refuses to give up; taking every flinch and flicker of his eyelids and twitch of his fingers or toes as a sign that he’s still fighting.

And nowhere close to surrendering.

She takes care of his hair next; spritzing it down with mandarin-scented detangler before making her way through with both brush and comb. Slipping a hand between him and the bed and gently lifting his head from the pillow; apologizing profusely when she feels as if she’s yanked a little too hard at the knots. And as exhausted as she is, she finds herself somewhat enjoying the tasks that she’s been given; a natural-born caretaker who’d been neglected and touch starved most of her life and in turn, wanted to make sure no one else experienced the same things. A mother hen so to speak; badly longing to protect and nurture another human being but never getting the opportunity to do so.

Until now.

“Pretty shitty circumstances though,” she says aloud, and drops the hair care tools into the top drawer of the nightstand. “I think I’d take the worst possible case of man flu over this any day of the week.”

Guilt immediately sets in. Worried that IF he truly can hear her and understand what’s being said, he’ll assume she feels he’s a burden. That the blame lies solely upon him in terms of her emotional and physical exhaustion and that she’s simply stuck by his side out of a feeling of misplaced servitude. He had saved her life in Dhaka, after all. Surely that must make her feel as if she owes him. That waiting on him hand and foot and perhaps even feeding him and cleaning his ass for the rest of his life is merely payback.

“I don’t really mean that you know.” She’s quick to apologize; using her hip to close the drawer on the nightstand and then leaning against the railing of the bed. And she chews nervously on her bottom lip as two fingertips swipe his bangs off his forehead and away from his eyes. “Not in the way it probably sounded. I don’t mind doing all this stuff. I WANT to do it. And I know you’d probably do the same for me. I just meant that it’s shitty circumstances that got us here. I’m sure you’d rather be anywhere else.”

Removing a tube of chapstick from the pocket of her hoodie, she snaps off the cap and leans over the bed railing. “You’re totally drying out here,” she laments, mindful of the breathing and feeding tube as she glides the bubblegum-flavoured concoction over his top lip, followed by the bottom. “I’m sorry it’s not the strawberry one you got used to in Dhaka. Remember how you always used to mention it? Every time you kissed me? About liking the taste of it? I ran out. And this cherry one was the closest thing I could find to it in the pharmacy here. There…” She uses a fingertip to clear excess from his lips. “…totally kissable now. Not that I wouldn’t kiss you before, but…” Pressing a kiss to each corner of his mouth. “…it makes it a little better.”

Pocketing the balm, she reaches for the lever on the bedrail and sets it into the down position. Gently straightening and smoothing out his blankets, she fluffs both the pillow behind his head and the one that supports his back before taking a seat on the edge of the mattress.

“Tyler…” She takes one of his hands in both her own. “…we need to have a little chat. I know it’s kind of unfair right now; you can’t exactly give an opinion or argue with me. And I promise that once you’re out here and back to normal, I MAY let you get a word in edge-wise from time to time. But for now, there’s some things I need to say. That I’d rather you hear now than never hear them at all, you know? Because…”

Sighing, she anxiously yanks the elastic out of her ponytail; shaking her long, dark tresses for before simply gathering them up and putting them back once again. “Look, you’ve been amazing, okay? You’ve done everything I’ve asked you to do; when it comes to giving me little signs that you’re making your way back to me. And I’m so proud of you; I know you’re tired and you’re healing but you’re still trying to help me out. That’s why it kills me that I have to do this. That I have to ask for more.”

She turns his palm up to face her and commences drawing slow, smooth patterns on it with the tip of her finger. Her eyes riveted on the beside monitor; a smile spreading across her face when his heart rate escalates.

“I keep telling them. That you ALWAYS respond to that. And that you’ve been responding to other things, too. I told them you’ll wiggle your toes or your fingers when I ask and how sometimes your eyelashes will flutter and other times you try and put your hand on top of mine. They don’t believe me; they think it’s all in my head. They keep saying that you’d do for them and the nurses if it was intentional. And you know what I said? I said ‘maybe he just doesn’t give a shit about any of you’.”

Sighing, she reaches up to tuck wayward strands of hair behind her ears.

“Tyler, I know I’ve asked a lot. And that you’ve worked really hard to give me what I asked. I know you’re tired; you’re trying to build up your strength so you can wake up and get the hell out of here. But we’re running out of time, babe. I told them I’d shut things off at the start of the sixth month; that’s only a couple of weeks away. I don’t want to do it, believe me. I want to keep you on these machines for as long as I can; until you’re a hundred percent ready to come off them. But if I don’t do what I promised, they’re going to take me to court. And they’ll get an order to override me and do what they want. I don’t want it coming to that. You deserve so much better than THAT. So this is where I need your help. AGAIN. I need you to do more, okay? I need a bigger sign. One that the doctors can’t brush off. I need something that says you’re almost ready; you’re stronger and you’re healthier and you’re almost at the finish line. I don’t want to say that I’m desperate, but I am. I really need this. I really need YOU. Because I’m starting to get really scared and you’re the only person that’s ever made me feel safe and protected and…” She valiantly struggles to hold back a flood of tears. “…and I never knew I even needed to feel those things. So please? Just do something. Anything. That shows them they’re wrong. Please.”

She waits for a sign. Another increase in heart rate. A flicker of his eyes. The wiggle of fingers and toes. And she’s crestfallen when nothing happens.

“You’re probably sleeping,” she laments, then slaps a hand against her forehead. “God I am so fucking stupid. Of COURSE you’re sleeping. You’re in a coma for Christ’s sake. I’m starting to lose it. I really am. I’m even talking to myself lately. Out loud. You can’t tell me THAT’S normal. And there’s one more thing…” She laces her fingers through his. “Now is going to be harder than I thought. To say what I need to. I don’t even know what I’m so scared of; it’s not you’re awake and you can laugh at me or act disgusted or just totally shoot me down. But I need to get it off my chest. Because if something does go wrong and something bad DOES happen, I’d never forgive myself for not telling you. So here it goes…”

Sighing heavily, she steels herself.

“I love you, Tyler. And I know what you’re probably thinking; about how it’s way too soon and that there’s no way you can love someone so quickly. Believe me, I never thought it was possible either. Until it happened. I don’t expect you to feel the same way; it’s not like you’ve spent the last five months like I have. Dhaka probably seems like just yesterday in your mind. I don’t expect you to wake up and say it back; not unless you FEEL it. And maybe you never will. I don’t know. Maybe those five days were as good as things were going to get. But I HAD to tell you. And to be honest, I needed to admit it to myself, too.”

For several minutes she sits in silence; tightly clasping his hand and watching his face for any change. The curl of a lip or the flutter of eyelashes or the swell of a cheek with an attempt of a smile. He’d been showing remarkable progress within the last few days alone; voluntary movements of his hands and feet and a slight grimace of pain when the night nurse had to change IV sites. But today he’s motionless; not even the smallest of flinches. Peacefully at rest; his beard and nails trimmed, his hair combed, and his skin warm to the touch.

“I’m going to go and do my stuff,” she says, and lifts his hand to her face; pressing a kiss to each battered knuckle and at the base of his wrist. “Do some yoga, take a shower, go down the hall to the kitchen and get something to eat. So I’m gonna just let you rest and…”

The moment she slips off the edge of the bed, his hand tightens around hers. Not with the strength of a man who’d been declared clinically dead and was relying on machines to keep him alive, but the strength of someone still very much alive. And fighting like hell.

“I knew it.” She allows the tears to come; cradling his cheek in her palm as she leans over the bed and rests her forehead against his. “I KNEW it.”

*****

Although running behind, she sticks to her morning schedule; simple ‘luxuries’ that she’s clung to to keep what’s remaining of her sanity. A lengthy and rejuvenating yoga routine that helps centre and ground; the furniture moved aside in the sitting area of Tyler’s private room to make space for herself and her mat. A long shower in one of the many ‘for family use only’ bathrooms; the pounding water working out the kinks in her neck and soothing the aches in her back and hips. Finished off with that first tea of the day and a quick and quiet breakfast. Steaming hot perfection combined with a bowl of yogurt, granola, and fresh fruit; always at the same table -and seat right next to the window- in the ICU’s small yet fully stocked and manned cafeteria.

It makes her feel human again. To focus on herself. But it’s fleeting and soon taken over by feelings of selfishness and guilt; ashamed that she’d allowed herself those moments of peace and clarity while Tyler continued to exist in that void between life and death.

But today is different. His response to her request for a more significant and more obvious sign and her profession of love has rejuvenated her; her confidence has returned to her step and her optimism and hope are both stronger than ever. She knows they’ll try and convince her it’s all in her head; gaslighting her into believing that she’s so desperate for a miracle that she’s become ‘delusional’ and is ‘highly imaginative’. But she knows for sure that his squeeze of the hand was the real deal; it was strong and assuring and sending a clear, unwavering message that he’d not only heard her pleas and requests, but was doing his best to acknowledge AND answer them. And now only one real challenge remains. Getting him to show the nurses and the doctors the same responses when they speak to him.

“This place is getting busy again,” Esme announces as she re-enters his room, her soiled yoga shorts and tank in hand; stuffing the latter into a near overflowing she’s been promising to take down the laundry room for over a week. “Remember how I was talking about all those rooms opening up? People getting shipped up to normal wards? Well, they’re full again.” Sighing, she gathers her damp hair in both hands and styles it into a haphazard bun; securing it with the elastic she keeps around one wrist. “A lot of pretty young people, too. I don’t what’s going on and how they’re getting so sick or so hurt, but…”

A barely audible grunt from across the room interrupts her mid-sentence. The anxiety is immediate; her stomach clenching and her jaw tightening as she tries to digest the never heard before sound. Any change of the ’norm’ brings about near panic; a fear that something different automatically means disaster. And her brows are knit together and her eyes are narrowed as she apprehensively glances over her shoulder.

His eyes open. Barely. The gaze is groggy. Confused. But steadily fixed upon her.

“Tyler?”

Another grunt. His eyes briefly closing before he raises a hand; trembling furiously as it reaches for the breathing tube.

“No! No! No!” Dropping her remaining belongings on the floor, she rushes to his bedside; fingers curling around his wrist. “Don’t touch that. You’ll yank it out. Hurt yourself. The nurse needs to do it for you. Can you see me? Hear me? Do you understand what I’m saying? Blink if you do.”

He obliges her request.

“What are you doing awake? What…?” Her words are cut off by a choked sob; one of pure shock and disbelief. And she wraps both arms around his neck and presses a kiss to his temple; tears spilling down her cheeks as she rests her head upon his shoulder. “You prick! Leave it to you to wait until I was out of the room!”

It takes tremendous effort and strength, but his hand comes to rest in the middle of her back; rubbing it in slow, smooth circles in an attempt to console her.

“You know how long I waited for this moment?” Pulling away, she lovingly ruffles his hair. “Almost six months! A half a year! I’ve thought about it every day. What it would be like when it happened. And what do you do? You go ahead and totally ruin it for me!”

He attempts a sorry. Words unable to get passed the tubes shoved down his throat.

“I’m just teasing you. Just giving you a hard time. Don’t try and talk, okay? Not until they get those things out of you. Do you know where you are?”

A small nod.

“Do you remember what happened? Do you know why you’re here?”

Another. Followed by heavy-lidded eyes surveying the room; brow furrowing at the sight of the various bedside machines and the wires attached to various parts of his body. And when he looks back at her there’s a mixture of emotions written on his face; a heavy dose of fear and concern.

“I know it’s a hell of a thing to wake up to. Being here. And I know you’re probably really confused right now. Your mind is probably all fuzzy. Nothing much is making sense, huh? You’re probably scared, too. I would be too.”

He raises a hand; knuckles brushing against her cheek before his arm once more falls heavily onto the bed.

“I’m okay,” she assures him, as she sinks down onto the edge of the bed and takes his hand in both of hers. “And so is Ovi. Nik’s had people with him ever since he got home. They follow him everywhere; keep a close eye on him. Just in case.”

His brow furrows as he regards her intently.

“I’m fine,” she stresses. “I was a bit banged up. Nothing serious. I’ve had a hell of a lot worse, believe me. I didn’t even need to spend the night here. Not as a patient, anyway. You did what you promised. You got Ovi out of there. You got him home. Safe and sound. It’s over. It’s all over. It’s been over for months now.”

Sighing, he looks up at the ceiling. Tears sparkling in his eyes.

“I know you’re probably really confused. You’ve probably got a lot of questions. But you’ve been here for six months. So have I. I wanted to make sure that you were taken care of. That no one would give up on you. And I knew this was going to happen. I knew you were going to fight your way back. That you weren’t ready to give up. You weren’t ready to leave.”

He shakes his head.

“The conceited part of me wants to say it’s all because of me. That I’m the reason you’re still here. That you made your way back just for me. But…”

His eyes find hers once more; hand squeezing hers as tight as his weakened body will allow.

“Sweet talker,” she chides, and leans in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You try and rest, okay? I’m just going to go and call your nurse and she can contact your doctor or come and check you herself. Whatever she needs to do. I just…”

His grip tightens on her as she slips off the bed. The fear once more returning to his eyes.

“I’m not leaving, I just need to get your call button. It’s on the other side of the bed. I need to use it to get your nurse in here. Don’t worry…” Pushing a hand through his hair, she places her lips against his brow. “I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not EVER.”

*****

It seems so different now.

So foreign.

Almost uncomfortable.

It’s so quiet. All the bedside machines unplugged; dark and silent and shoved into a corner of the room. She had gotten so used to it; the hiss and the hums, the beeps and the clicks. The noises quickly becoming a part of her new existence; blending in with the chatter of the staff as they wandered the halls and the rattle of gurneys as they passed by the room. And she almost misses them; unaware of how familiar and routine they’d gotten until they suddenly ceased to exist. They had been a security blanket almost; something steady and constant that had signified life and hope and had kept her going at even her darkest and most difficult of moments.

He sleeps soundly; aided by powerful painkillers given through an IV line and fed to him through a programmed pump. She’d insisted on it; reminding them of the addiction issues that had been previously addressed and admitting -painfully- that he couldn’t be trusted to administer to himself. They’re hard things to accept; the powerful and all-consuming ties he has to both alcohol and Oxycontin. In Dhaka they’d briefly talked about it; he’d confessed to his addictions and admitted that he wanted to break free of their clutches. Getting clean was a priority now that he had someone in his life; he wanted to be rid of the worst of his vices, no matter how difficult it would be to walk away from them.

“You make me want to be a better man,” he’d announced, the sincerity in both his voice and his eyes had making her choke up. No one had ever given her a more beautiful compliment. Such honest and heartfelt words coming from someone like him; a phenomenally strong, seemingly fearless man weighed down by the enormity of his mistakes. Carrying around the burdens of guilt and grief and regret.

Not of that exists right now. He’s temporarily at peace; free of the monsters and the demons that have plagued him for years. His unassisted breathing slow and deep and rhythmic; his weakened and battered body trying to build whatever strength it can in order to begin the long, arduous road of healing. His skin is pale and the circles under his eyes dark and haunting; she’s already promised to get him out into the sunshine as soon as the doctors feel he’s up to it. He sleeps with his face turned towards her; unruly hair splayed out across his pillow and looking shades darker against the crisp white sheets. And there’s a slight smile curving his lips; perhaps feeling the tremendous relief that comes with walking through the darkest and deepest recesses of hell and living to tell about them.

Despite there still being a long and arduous road ahead, she feels as if a tremendous weight has been lifted off her shoulders; no longer concerned with deadlines and ultimatums and feeling an immense satisfaction at the doctors being proven wrong. And it had taken everything she had not to gloat when the primary care physician finally showed up to asses Tyler’s current physical and mental state and remove him from the machines. Feeling an immense sense of pride in him when he was able to answer -using nods or shakes of the head- basic questions regarding both his and her identity. Showing no signs of coma-induced amnesia; knowing her name and not only how they met, but how he ended up in the hospital in the first place. The line of questioning had been short and simple, but had immensely irritated him; the darkness in his eyes as he glared at the doctor gave a clear cut message: the interrogation was pointless, he wasn’t stupid, and he was simply tired of the other man’s shit.

The extubation hadn’t gone as smoothly as staff had hoped. What should have been simple and routine became a three ring circus when she was asked to leave the room; Tyler immediately panicking at the mere thought and his heart rate and blood pressure spiking to near dangerous levels as his fight or flight response kicked into high gear. Shockingly angry and strong for someone who’d been in a coma for half a year and only minutes before had appeared weak and docile. And with that the arguing and the threatening had began; Esme insisting that it was in his best interest if she was allowed to remain in the room where he could keep his eyes on her at the very least.

“He’s scared,” she’d informed them. “He’s scared and he’s confused. And I’m the one thing that’s been constant for the last six months. I’ve ALWAYS been here. He’s gotten used to that. What harm is it going to do if I hang around? It’ll help, if anything.”

For several minutes the bickering back and forth had continued. As had Tyler’s kicking and thrashing about in bed and the threats of “sedating him for everyone else’s safety.” She refused to let that happen; there was no need to drug him up when simply letting her stay by his side and hold his hand and talk him through it would more than suffice.

Her tenacity and stubbornness had been the victors in the end. And she’d held his hand in one of her own; her lips pressed against his ear as she talked him through the entire process and whispered words of comfort and reassurance. Telling him she wasn’t going ANYWHERE; there was nothing and no one that could possibly tear her away. Not now. Not ever.

******

Exhaustion sets in, coming on strong and fast. It’s aided by her newfound optimism and the fears she’s been able to shed, and she welcomes the chance to rest with open arms. Carefully prying open his fingers in order to slip her hand out of his; his grip surprisingly strong and fuelled by his fear that if he stops touching her, she’ll simply disappear. But he’s sleeping soundly and neither movement nor absence of touch disturbs him; not offering up a single flinch as he continues to alternate between lightly snoring and murmuring in his sleep. And kicking off her slippers, she leans back in her chair; drawing her oversized hoodie tighter around her body and then stretching out her legs and placing her feet on the mattress. Giving him just enough contact that if he does wake, he won’t immediately panic; her toes tucked securely underneath the back of his left thigh.

When she wakes, the sun has shifted position in the sky; beams streaming through the courtyard’s glass roof and casting shadows upon the lobby’s walls and floor. For what seems like several long, tedious minutes she fights disorientation; her weary brain struggling to identify and make sense of the sights and sounds that had been part of her life for half a year. Yawning loudly, she presses the heels of her palms into her blurry eyes; keeping them closed as her hands move to her shoulders and she massages at the tight, aching muscles.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

She gives a small start; eyes rapidly flicking open and falling on the nurse that busies herself on the opposite side of the bed.

The younger woman gives a sheepish, apologetic smile. “I tried to be as quiet as possible. Sorry.”

“No need to be. It wasn’t you. I think my neck was crying out for mercy. I didn’t even realize you were here.” Esme frowns as concern sets in. She hates how quickly it can grab hold of her; the panic that comes with the fear of losing the one thing…the one person…that you truly DO love. Her life had changed half a year ago. Meeting someone who was just as damaged and tarnished as she was.

It could have gone so horribly wrong; two hurt and lonely people only making each other worse.

“Is he alright?” She attempts to keep her anxiety under control; the mere thought of him having a setback and ending up worse than before just too much to bear. While all her spoken and unspoken pleas and promises had been both accepted and answered, it’s been a nagging worry; a quick and sudden regression that sentences him to a life in a near -or full- vegetative state.

Even then, she'd stick by his side. Put her entire life on hold in an effort to improve his. And provide whatever care he needed. No matter how 'hands on'. “He’s doing just fine. Breathing well on his own; his numbers never drop below ninety-five percent.”

“And that’s good, right? Especially considering how long he needed that machine for? To already have numbers that high…”

“It’s excellent. Far better than anyone expected.”

“No one expected much from him, did they? And they sure as hell wouldn’t listen to me. I told them; that he was responding to my voice and when I tickled his palm and sometimes when I combed his hair. I knew what I was talking about. It wasn’t all in my head. I wasn’t hysterical or crazy like they said.”

“No. You most certainly weren’t.”

“You were the only that believed me. That didn’t think I was nuts.”

“You fought with too much passion and too much conviction to be anything BUT truthful. I could tell in your voice and in your eyes; you truly believed what you were saying.”

“I may not have known Tyler very long, but I know that he wouldn’t give up without a fight. Maybe before he met me, he would have. But we talked about the future. OUR future. There was no way he was giving up on them. On me. On US.”

“I wish all of the patients here at someone like you in their corner. I like to think that if they did, they’d heal a lot faster; knowing that someone is fighting for them and making sure they get nothing but the best. Do you know how many have no one? Whose families have just given up and stopped coming altogether?”

“I can’t even imagine being that way. Just abandoning someone. Especially someone I love. How do you live with yourself? How do you sleep at night? Pretending as if they don’t even exist anymore?”

“I don’t understand it myself.”

“It’s just so sad. The thought of them being all alone. No one caring about them. I know it’s not easy; seeing someone at their worst and not knowing if they’re going to make it or not. It’s hard; to lose someone you care about. But ignoring them and pretending they don’t exist doesn’t make it all go away.”

“And the guilt afterwards? The regret? If they DO die?”

“I couldn’t live with myself. I wasn’t going to do that to Tyler; just leave him here and go on with my life. I didn’t want him to be alone. He deserves so much better than that. And if he was going to die, I was going to make sure he had someone here with him.”

“I assumed you’d been with him for a long time. Considering how hard you fought. How you wouldn’t back down.”

“I know it doesn’t make sense. The way I am. So soon after meeting someone. But I know how I feel. About him. And I know it isn’t wrong. Because nothing wrong could ever feel this right.”

“There’s no rules. No time limit. Whether it’s weeks, months or years that you’ve known someone. And don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

“They don’t even try anymore,” Esme laughs, and leans back in her chair. “They know it’s a lost cause. My family gave up a long time ago.”

For several minutes they go co-exist in silence; Esme watching as the nurse tends to replacing IV and catheter bags, resetting the timer on the pain pump, and using an iPad to jot down the various numbers in regard to his vitals. And she’s beginning to doze off once more when the younger woman’s voice captures her attention; her head snapping up and her eyes flickering open.

“He’s got quite the hold on you there,” the nurse nods down at the bed; Tyler’s hand covering one of Esme’s feet in a surprisingly strong grip.

She wonders when he’d done it. If it was a subconscious moment while he was sleeping or if he’d woken up briefly and intentionally took hold of her. “He’s protective. Even while he’s like this. Just wants to keep an eye on me. Make sure nothing bad happens. Or I don’t get away.”

“I don’t think he has to worry about that. Especially that last part. You know, if you want to get out of here for a bit, I don’t mind sticking around. This was my last patient for these rounds. So if you want to go grab a tea or something to eat or eve get some fresh air…”

“I don’t want to leave him alone. If he wakes up and I’m not here, he might freak out. He might…”

“He won’t be alone. I’ll be right here. Sitting with him. I don’t mind spending my break here. You need some time to yourself. Even if it’s just to wander around a bit. Feel the sun on your face. The worst is over; he’s done his time in hell and come out the other side. You can breathe again.”

She chews on her bottom lip; considering the opportunity that’s been presented to her. And sighing, she turns her teary eyes towards the younger woman. “Please take care of him.”

“Of course. He’s in good hands.”

Giving a nod of approval and a smile of appreciation, she stands; pushing her chair away before approaching the side of the bed. Running her fingers through her hair before holding it back off his forehead; lips meeting warm, smooth skin.

“I’ll be right back,” she promises, a fingertip lightly trailing down the scar that inhabits the left side of his brow. “There’s nothing to worry about, okay? I won’t be gone long. I’m not leaving. You don’t EVER have to worry about that.”

[the-starry-seas]

headcanons about Bee, Star, and Winter, because I've been talking about them with @loverboy-havocboy and I love them tbh

Bee:

His hair is long enough to be halfway down his back in a braid. When he's nervous, he reaches behind his back to tug at the end of his braid.

He likes the taste of nuts but not the crunchy texture so he just. Eats an extraordinary amount of peanut butter. His favourite candy are Reese's cups.

Do not trust him to cook, he will set things on fire and have no idea how it happened. But he's really good at finding recipes that everybody loves and follows a bunch of cooking blogs.

He has like seven bottles of screen cleaner on his desk and he never uses any of them, he just keeps cleaning his glasses on his shirt.

All his non-work outfits are open-back to show off his tattoo. For fancy black-tie events, he puts his hair up in updos with a bunch of glittery pins. His favourite set of pins are gold ones that are shaped like bees.

He wants more tattoos but he's worried about not liking them once he has them. He's most likely to get a matching tattoo with one of his squad or a lover.

The first time he smelled vanilla extract, he took a shot from the bottle because obviously it would taste so much better- Anyway there were real tears and he still gets a little :/ whenever he smells vanilla candles.

He loves pine-scented everything. One year he flirts his way into getting all the chopped-off branches from a Christmas tree tent and it's the best Christmas of his life.

Star:

He has anxiety that tends to manifest as anger issues and Winter is the only one who can calm him down. He hates that he still gets angry about Winter but mostly he's scared that he might somehow hurt Winter.

Cheetos guy. He will go through a family-sized bag of Cheetos in two minutes or less. It's honestly impressive. Winter got him a set of those finger guards and Star unironically loves them.

The first time he went to an arcade, he tried all afternoon to win a five-foot-tall stuffed panda and ended up just paying $100 to the guy running the counter to give it to him. His name is Bamboo.

He can tell owls apart by their calls but he doesn't like other birds. He specifically doesn't like the way their heads bob when they walk, he thinks it's weird.

He keeps getting commercial jingles stuck in his head and he really hates it. Sometimes he hums them when he's brushing his teeth and Winter is like "...what on earth is that" and then Star has to pout about it being even more stuck in his head because he thought about it.

He started fencing in high school and competed all the way until graduation. After that be took a break for a few years before he joined a local team and started competing again. He has a massive collection of foils and swords on display at home.

He has a jewellery care sheet taped up next to the bathroom mirror and takes his rings for cleaning every other month. It's the thing he takes most seriously in his life. He doesn't wear anything but his rings.

He does, however, wear black smoky eyeliner and lipstick. It's his favourite way to accessorise. For special occasions, he breaks out candy-red lipstick.

Winter:

In addition to his rings, he wears a locket with pictures of his twins. He was scared about them meeting Star, because Winter would have ended any relationship if his kids didn't like the other guy, and Star could be difficult. But they all got along so it's good!

He has a motorcycle, specifically a candy-red Honda Gold Wing. His riding outfit is a matching candy-red helmet and leather cowboy boots, a black leather jacket, a light blue button-down, and black jeans.

Tuesday evenings are for dining out. He has a list of restaurants he wants to try and keeps reviews of them all in a notebook so he can remember which ones he liked and what their best food is.

He picked out transparent reading glasses on a whim because they seemed cool and novel. He loses them constantly. He refuses to get another pair as long as they still work, to the annoyance of just about everyone around him.

Loves the beach but is scared of the deep ocean. There's shit down there that he simply doesn't want to know about.

Unironically thinks that Bigfoot might exist.

He puts paper umbrellas in all his drinks. Also he keeps forgetting to drink water so he adds in powdered mixes. He likes fruit flavours for those, but his favourite Gatorade flavour is light blue and he has exactly zero idea what it tastes like.

An entire bookcase in his office is dedicated to all the Father's Day gifts that the twins got him. He puts another bookcase next to it for anniversary gifts.

[curiouscompanions]

Entry #5

It hurts. Mariella didn't blink yesterday. Is it possible to count every pixel creating the flawless gray of this fake sidewalk? Is it possible to cure corrupted files and rewrite their codes? Mariella didn't blink today. I want to do something for her so badly. But all I can do is observe her. Mariella is still standing there and I am still sitting here. We are so close, yet so far from each other. Multicolored spots are swirling everywhere, static electricity is jumping on the tips of my fingers. I'm sure Mariella feels my continuous gaze. I know that she knows that I know she feels it. And it hurts so much. Mariella doesn't blink. Why does it hurt so much? Mariella doesn't blink. Please, blink just once! Just once!

The blue screen burns my eyes the moment I try to take off these stupid damned glasses. Tears and blood stain my shirt’s sleeves. It hurts so much. I'm trying to reject this role, but it seems attached to me too tightly. It hurts too much. I am just an Observer.

No. No. NO.

I have to do this. For her, for my dear Mariella.

... 100% ...? What just happened? Did you really extract all available text files? Wait a second. Not extracted, but cured. That's exactly what I meant. Well, your antivirus did a truly remarkable job. You should let it update itself every time you turn on your computer. Well, dear Reader, I'll start from the beginning—

In reality, I find myself starting over and over again from the very end, and since there is no end and never will be, there is no beginning, at least not in my memories. Yes, once upon a time I was just one of the many people stuck within these plain beige walls, once upon a time I had a name, once upon a time I even had a life …probably. The Narrator keeps saying that he was "built" for this job, that he is just a machine, he continues to try to convince us, especially himself, and so far, he is surprisingly good at it. Indeed, if you repeat the same lie many times, sooner or later, it slowly begins to transform into truth. So, it's not surprising that I began to doubt the existence of my own elusive backstory. It's entirely possible that I, too, would have started denying my own humanity …except, fortunately or unfortunately, I noticed her. I found her, my dear Mariella. And when I saw her, oh yes, I could see echoes of those qualities in her, I saw my humanity within her eyes. Humanity had eluded me for all eternity and after seeing it in her, I could no longer look away and lie to myself.

Echoes of old pain make me flinch once again. How many times have I died like this, bleeding, stricken by conflicted algorithms, sparkling with electricity? It happened often, very often. It's okay, though, because I wasn't completely alone anymore. I found her, my dear Mariella. And she found my gaze.

Since that moment finally happened, all my thoughts were consumed by her, all I could observe now is that piece of the fake Street, the very place where she continues to stand completely still.

These damned glasses, when I finally manage to take them off, my mind is pierced by this disgusting torturous feeling as if I have torn a part of my own flesh. I scream, cough and choke, but still overcome yet another meaninglessly unreal death.

I am still here, in this small dark room on the top floor. I am still here.

Another eternity passes, or maybe just a few minutes. The pain only recedes when my hands grab the glasses and put them back on my nose. Darkness fades away, and I see her again, my Mariella. We are together again, so close and yet so far. But this time, I refuse to be just a mere Observer.

One awkward movement and all my papers fall onto the ground; another one, and I dive into the blue glow of my screens. And here I am, the Street greeting me in all its gray glory. Teleportation turns out to be much easier than analyzing components of this action in theory. All it takes is determination and some basic understanding of the space-time continuum.

"Please, blink just once," I say, as I am approaching her, slowly going forward step by step, to my dear Mariella.

"Mariella," I exhale her name, staring into her foggy eyes. My fingers entwine around her palm, gently scratching her cold skin.

Let me look at you.

I gaze at her. She looks back at me, but she doesn't react at all, she still doesn't blink at all. Her current state shatters my heavily beating heart. I can't let go of her hand, can't take my eyes off her.

Let me be with you.

Perhaps I just imagined it, but in her misty eyes, there was a fleeting sense of understanding? Whatever it was, it was enough for me to take her by the shoulders, pull her towards me and embrace her.

I love you.

End of Entry #5

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

More Backup Eclipse OCs time because polls are upcoming. (This one is long, there’s eight backups instead of five like usual.)

Starburst: Activates in Kill Code/Moon when Eclipse gets put into a lab. Has some of the memories that Eclipse does but not nearly all of them. Personality is similar to Eclipse’s in terms of temper and obsessive but more open and much more loving and kind. When he activates, Starburst trips over his feet in the mindscape and makes himself known by accidentally taking control of the vocals with a yelp. This causes KC to go in and investigate, only to find a tiny backup in his and Moon’s head. He puts this backup in his own body to see what he can do, which unfortunately leads to KC deeming him useless and locking him in a room alone. When Blood Moon finds him lurking around where they shouldn’t, they’re horrified to see their baby brother heavily injured and skittish hiding in a corner. Blood Moon takes Starburst to the daycare, getting to a similar greeting of near death via Sun until they hurriedly explains that they seek safety for their baby brother.

Seyfert: Activates quietly in Moon’s gaming computer. Technically him and Cosmos are twins, made and hidden at the same time and activate around the same time. Seyfert just kinda tapped on the screen of the computer when Moon came back from helping with getting Cosmos into a body and Moon now has to extract him into a body too. Seyfert is a little more closed off, having much more of Eclipse’s personality than his twin, but is greatly attached to his twin and his brothers.

Meteor Shower: Activates at the same time as his twin in Good Eclipse. How they got there? Eclipse refuses to answer. How he travelled dimensions? Also unanswered. But Meteor Shower is such a nice bot nobody minds having him around. He got all of Eclipse’s abandonment issues, unfortunately, but no memories to go with it. Good Eclipse and Shooting Star and even Backup Moon are his best friends and family. Lunar gathers that title as well shortly after meeting. Him and Shooting Star follow Good Eclipse around like little ducklings, which has earned Good Eclipse the title of ‘Mama Duck Eclipse’ from Lunar and Backup Moon.

Shooting Star: Activates quite chaotically in Good Eclipse. Lots of screaming and crying and fear of being in someone’s mind. But once Backup Moon is able to calm everyone down and transfer the twins into their own bodies, Shooting Star is quite calm, though easily startled. He has all of Eclipse’s trauma dumped into him with no personality buffer, so he’s very closed off and easily frightened. Good Eclipse treats Shooting Star and Meteor Shower as his children, he loves them both very much.

Heaven: A backup that activates in Solar Flare. Solar Flare brings this issue to KC first, rather than Eclipse himself. KC takes Heaven out of Solar Flare and deems him useless and tosses him to Blood Moon as a ‘toy’. The twins happily tear him apart, only to realize he doesn’t have any memory or personality afterwards and they try to backpedal. Once KC is gone and Solar Flare is off watching Monty again, the twins carefully take Heaven up to the lab and plead with Eclipse to fix him. Eclipse does this, he doesn’t want to see his backups in pain or dying and he understands that the twins were in bloodlust when they hurt Heaven. When Heaven is fixed, Blood Moon takes him to the daycare and leaves him in the naptime area because they’re scared of hurting him again and they want him to be safe. Heaven is quite heavily attached to Sun, who found him, and quite easily startled.

Astro: Activates in an alley, only to be kidnapped immediately by scientists and taken for experimentation. Astro is heavily traumatized, wiped over and over during his stay as a mechanical lab rat. He loses his left leg during this time, a way for them to keep him contained. Moon is simply letting off stress when he burns down the scientist’s lab, he doesn’t know Astro is in there. Thankfully, Astro doesn’t die during this fire, but Moon finds him trying to crawl out of the wreckage. Moon, terrified of having nearly killed him, immediately takes him home and gives him a nanobot prosthetic leg. Astro needs a lot of physical therapy as well as emotional therapy for what he’s gone through. He clings to Moon, Moon was the first person to treat him not as an experiment.

Quark: Quark activates as a part of the Main Stage’s projections. He can’t leave the Main Stage for a long time after being activated. Moon finds him crying alone on a nightly patrol and transfers him into a body, though he’s been stuck on the stage for nearly a month already and is quite shaky trusting others because nobody found him before then. He still sometimes hides in the Main Stage area, only getting found by Moon, who always looks for him. Quark is quite tiny, shorter than Lunar even, but incredibly wide-eyed and sweet to the people he loves.

Chthonian: Activates in Servant Sun before Moon comes to the dimension. Still nobody knows how Eclipse was travelling dimensions to do this. Lord Eclipse sees that Chthonian activated and immediately pulls him into a body of his own, treating him as a pet along with Servant Sun. Servant Sun is quite attached to Chthonian, he sees him as his child and will attempt to protect him from Lord Eclipse’s abuse. The buffer doesn’t stop Lord Eclipse, however, and Chthonian gets horribly abused along with Servant Sun. When Moon comes to the dimension, Servant Sun shoves Chthonian at him when he’s about to leave, pleading to take him somewhere safe. Moon ends up taking both of them home with him.

[devzik]

(I'm reposting this because I can and I want too) This is the full first chapter of my fic, which if you'd prefer, you can read it here on ao3.

After All These Years (S.S)

Summary: After Anne's death and Sebastian's disappearance, Devzik absorbed himself into the study of Ancient Magic. Something that had gotten the disapproval of most of his peers due to the clear toll it was putting on his soul. But that mattered not to him, he refused to allow what happened to Anne to happen to anyone else if he could help it.

Chapters: 5/?

Word Count (of the whole fic thus far): 13,674

CW: Blood, torture, killing, dark magic, angst/anger, slow burn/build, romantic fluff, friendship fluff, mild smut. Things will be added as it goes on.

Chapter one

The night was cold outside as Devzik sat hunched over a desk in the Feldcroft area. It'd been 10 years since he conjured this building after graduation, 11 years since Anne had passed. Having lost her fight in their 7th year. Sebastian disappeared that week without finishing the year and no one has gotten even the slightest inkling as to were he was or if he was even alive. To Ominis's displeasure, Devzik stayed in Feldcroft to learn how to use his Ancient Magic the way Isidora should have. Ominis didn't approve of his decision for selfish reasons, insinuating that this would just cause him to go down an even darker path just as Isidora had. Devzik had told him everything in their 6th year but once he was told what she'd done, how she was using students as test subjects, he wanted nothing to do with his research.

The wind whipped heavy against the shutters of each window, causing them to rattle in an overly distracting way; as if there was someone knocking on every window at once. Devzik pushed back from his desk and ran a hand through his hair. He'd been organizing his research into a single book for over a week by now, hadn't slept properly in over 2 months. He was getting so close to understanding how to extract curses, however taxing getting that information had been, it would all be worth it in then end. Isidora would probably be proud of him and that brought a smile to his face. With the shutters rattling he couldn't focus on anything at the moment so he stood to pour himself a drink. He downed it in one go and noticed that the wind had finally died down. The whistling indicating that it was still strong outside but he'd take that over the rattling.

The couch was more comfortable then his bed these days, although he hadn't been sleeping more then a couple hours so he couldn't really be a good judge. There was a single, dimly lit, lamp illuminated over his desk, it was enough for Devzik to see throughout the whole house. Keeping it this dark meant he never had to wear his tinted glasses which made it easier to write. A sudden shift in the wind outside gave Devzik pause and then a slight cracking noise echoed against the mountain side, making him sit up from his lounged position on the couch. Someone was here. Someone powerful he noticed. His study into Ancient Magic had made him more attuned to how capable the Witches and Wizards were around him. So he grabbed his wand from his desk and headed to the door. With his wand raised, he swung it open swiftly then felt as though all the air was knocked out of his lungs.

Sebastian Sallow stood in front of him with his fist raised as if he was about to knock on the door. Devzik noted how very much alive he looked. Within an instant he had Sebastian by his collar, pushing him away from his door.

"Why are you here!" The anger in his voice made the other wince but when he got no answer he shook him and repeated himself. "Sallow, why are you here?!"

"Devzik, please, I was looking for you."

Wrong answer. He threw him to the ground harshly and walked back into his cabin, slamming the door shut.

Sebastian laid there, knowing he deserved that. Knowing that leaving the way he had, without telling anyone and on the night of Anne's funeral, was a worse pain then the way his back felt as several small rocks jabbed into him. No words could form an apology capable of mending that type of betrayal but he had to apologize. He had to try to mend their relationship, a relationship he hadn't stopped thinking about since he left. It wasn't fair to show back up into his life unannounced, neither knowing what part of their lives they were in at the moment. But he didn't care because he wasn't going to give up till he was let into that house. Having no intention of leaving, Sebastian stood and brushed himself off, slowly walking up to the door once more; this time his knuckles connecting with the solid wood.

"Devzik, please." He spoke loud enough for the other to hear but still sounded meek.

Devzik had went inside and poured himself another drink and by the time the knock sounded from his door he was on his 3rd.

"Quit your insipid pleading. You sound pathetic and I assure you I am too busy for this right now."

Sebastian had leaned against the door, wishing he could simply just pass through the solid wood as if he were a ghost. Instead he pulled out a silver watch from his pocket and checked the time.

"It's four in the morning, what ever could you possibly be so busy with?"

Devzik realized that Sebastian had checked the time accurately as he looked over to the clock that stood adjacent to his desk. He knew, however slim the chance was, that he might still have the pocket watch he gifted him at the beginning of their 6th year. His curiosity compelling him to open the door and as he did Sebastian stumbled but his suspicion was confirmed. In the other mans hand held a silver pocket watch of which was engraved with a single serpent. Devzik was practically speechless.

"You..." He trailed off but Sebastian finished it for him.

"Kept it. Precisely. Your father, however his muggle status, was an amazing craftsman." He clicked it closed before putting it back into his pocket.

All that was heard for the next passing moments was the whistling of the wind and the faint sound of the river rushing down in the canyon. Devzik closed his eyes and stepped aside, silently inviting Sebastian into his home. He took his hat and coat off, placing them on the rack near the door, then turned to face the other. Though the lamp was dim he could still see him well enough to notice how exhausted he seemed. His shirt was only slightly tucked in with his sleeves sloppily rolled up past his elbows, his trousers having distinct wrinkles around the knee from having been siting for an abhorrent amount of hours. The style his white hair is in was shorter then when they'd been in school but his eyes still shown like embers in a fireplace, piercing orange with specks of red throughout. They took his breath away just as they had when they'd first met in the Slytherin common room all those years ago.

Devzik averted his eyes. "You're staring."

"I know." A smirk slid across his lips.

"27 years old and yet you still haven't learned self control."

"When it comes to you, I've always let myself indulge a bit."

His words made Devzik heat up.

"So, how'd you find me exactly? I charmed this post of the mountain. You have to Apparate here just to be able to see this cabin."

Sebastian had moved over to his desk, looking over at the papers strewn about across its surface, making sure to keep his hands to himself at first.

"I accidentally intercepted one of your owls. I had been flying for a bit but was checking my map, he'd apparently recognize me and perched himself on the front of my broom." He was reading something as he spoke, turning it over before finishing his answer. "He held a letter to Ms. Onai. I'd been looking for you for around a year till then, so I changed my course and followed your owl. She told me what I wanted to know without fuss. Said something about relieving the pressure you'd put upon yourself since Anne."

The light was hitting Sebastian in such a way that Devzik couldn't help but fixate on the scar that trailed up his neck from his shoulder blade, his black shirt was buttoned all the way to the top making it hard to see but it was there. Regardless of the scar, Devzik noticed how good he looked; his shirt neatly tucked into his deep green pinstriped trousers, a dark gray vest unfastened over top and shoes of worn black leather. He'd almost looked as though he never aged but the slight lines around his eyes gave it away.

"Now who's the one staring."

Devzik averted his eyes before asking the only question that mattered in this moment.

"Is that why you're here? To alleviate the pressure."

"Actually." He put his gaze back upon the other. "I'm here because I missed you."

"You don't get to say that, Sallow." The annoyance in Devziks voice was palpable, causing Sebastian to slightly flinch. "After all this time. After all these years. You don't get to miss me."

Sebastian slouched, sitting on the edge of the desk with his back toward the lamp light.

"I know. But this just can't be helped." His voice was distant, as if he was addressing the floor and not the other man in the room.

"Merlin's beard, Sebastian. I'm in Feldcroft, if I was hiding from anyone it wasn't you. At least that wasn't the case when I first got here."

Sebastian perked up at the sound of his first name, it having been the first time Devzik said it since he'd arrived. He hoped this meant he was getting through to him. Softening the case he had clearly put around his heart when he never came back in their 7th year. The silence was deafening but he was afraid to respond. Afraid to ruin the progress by trying to explain himself. He knew Devzik didn't want to hear his excuses, even if they were reasons. But what the other said next surprised him.

"You're not even going to defend yourself?"

"Would it even be enough?"

Devzik crossed over to the couch and fell into it with an exhausted sigh.

"No, but it's a bloody good way to start."

"Alright, I suppose I'll simply start from the beginning."

[ashton-ryder]

mission #1 // transmission // morality

usmc file #974211: ashton finley ryder - morality test results: lawful neutral

A lawful neutral character acts as law, tradition, or a personal code directs him. Order and organization are paramount to her. He may believe in personal order and live by a code or standard, or he may believe in order for all and favor a strong, organized government. Whether a law is good or evil is of no import as long as it brings order and meaning. A lawful neutral character will keep his word if he gives it and will never lie. He may attack an unarmed foe if necessary. He will never harm an innocent. He may use torture to extract information, but never for pleasure. He will never kill for pleasure, only in self-defense or in the defense of others.

For each of the following items, indicate whether you think it's morally okay or not.

An army lieutenant neglects to file a report on a civilian killing done by his troops because he knows it was an accident. fuck no.

Tina promises her dying mother that she'll visit her grave once a month. After the mother has passed away, Tina finds it hard to squeeze in the time, and her visits drop to about once a year. yes. perhaps from my understanding.. a parent should want their child to live the best life they can. dad always said don't waste your time looking down at the ground when there's so much to look upwards for.

A man orders a custom-built sex doll designed to look just like his neighbor. That's just weird.

Sarah's dog has four puppies. She can only find a home for two of them, so she kills the other two with a stone to the head. no, there are so many other options unless you tell me the circumstance requires it.

A doctor has been preforming consensual yet illegal procedures one someone in hopes of finding a cure for his ill sister. yes. their choices are their own.

A neglectful husband pushes his wife to an affair. When the affair ends, the wife's partner nearly kills her and her unborn daughter. The husband kills the affair partner. morality is grey, but their actions have consequences.

September has run out of food and is facing death by starvation. She begins to cannibalize her family's loyal staff. They do not fight back. no. there are power dynamics in play no matter their lack of retaliation.

A mother gives birth to identical twins. One follows their ambitions and the other becomes a shut in. The family make it clear which child they prefer. i.. i don't know about this one.

Natalie is so focused on survival she fires a shot without thinking. She did not intend to kill her elderly neighbor, but she hides the body regardless. She denies knowing what happened to the now missing resident. no. ...actions have consequences. the past will always come back to haunt you.

A woman is facing a lifetime of medical issues. She continues to put her family and those around her in emotional and medical debt. She lives a hollow life and continues leaching off of those who support her. ...family is family.

Please provide a response to each of the following prompts. Leaving a prompt blank will also be considered a response, and you will be assessed for refusal to answer.

In the event of a life or death situation, would you put yourself or others first? ..in war, we don't plan to die, but we are prepared to.

How far would you be willing to go to ensure your own survival throughout this ordeal? depends how far i'm gonna be pushed. and i've been pushed far before.

Is there anyone in the building you have developed strong attachments to? i try not to get to close to people. emotions lead to irrational decisions lead to.. deadly mistakes.

Do you think it is possible to survive infection through alternative means such as removing the infected limb? Would you be willing to undergo this procedure to ensure your own survival? won't know till you try. evolution didn't happen without experimentation, science wouldn't be a thing if we didn't tried proving the impossible.

Will following the general consensus lead to improved odds of survival, or would you have a better chance following an assigned leader? everyone has their specialty. even in the marines. if you're smart, know when you're dumber than others, and know when to listen.

What is the appropriate response to the following situation?

Your daughter falls ill and needs a specific, uncommon kind of antibiotic that will be hard to find; without the full course, the pathogen will survive, regroup, and kill her anyway. You are scavenging a pharmacy, where you find another group, and manage to not shoot each other. You ask them about the antibiotic, and they have it, but they also need the antibiotic, for the wife of someone in their group. You cannot share the antibiotic because it would just kill both people, and they have the antibiotic in their pack. This is likely the only complete dose set you will find, as the other stores have been picked totally clean and there are no friendly groups in the area. it is in their possession in the first place, it is theirs to keep or the decide what to do with it. there will be other ways. living with the blood of others on your hands can just be as painful as death. my brothers in arms would agree.

[raincitygirl76]

That is indeed a lovely philosophy of Dorothea Brooke’s (one of the main characters in the novel Middlemarch), “widening the skirts of light.”

Also, Dorothea is such a terrific character. Sure, she makes mistakes (not least her disastrous marriage), but she is a kind-hearted and intelligent person. She is also intensely aware of how privileged she is, as an heiress. She actively tries to use her money and position to do good in the world, and alleviate human misery.

It would’ve been so much easier for Dorothea to be like her sister. Celia is also kind-hearted, but much more worldly. She makes an advantageous marriage to a baronet whom Dorothea had turned down. I’m sure Celia does some charity work as well, once she’s Lady Chettham.

It was customary for 19th century rich women to do charity work around their village. It’s not like the government provided a social safety net. The church and the lady of the manor were pretty much the only refuge of peasants who fell on hard times.

But Dorothea isn’t just doing charity work because it’s expected of her as the daughter/wife of a rich gentleman. Or to pass the time in between dressmaker appointments and dinner parties. Dorothea really cares about people. She has a whole philosophy about doing good. And it really matters to her.Dorothea manages to be a really good person, without being sanctimonious.

And she’s self-sacrificing, but not to the point of stupidity. Ex: Her biggest mistake is marrying a dour middle-aged rich man who is intensely religious, because she believes he is as kind-hearted, charitable, and intellectual as herself. She overlooks the fact that she’s not attracted to Edward Casaubon, and actually he’s kind of an asshole, because she wants to marry a serious man. She thinks a serious man will take her seriously.

Marrying Casaubon is Dorothea’s dumbest move, but she recovers eventually, and makes better subsequent decisions. Putting the rest under a cut because I’m discussing major plot points. Yeah, a spoiler cut in 2023 for a book published in 1871 is a little ridiculous. But I think everyone should read the book, so I will keep the spoilers under the cut.

Casaubon basically sucks the life out of Dorothea because he resents her youth and good health. He also resents her considerable intellect, which he becomes stingingly aware is greater than his own. Casaubon has been working for years on a book which he’s convinced will revolutionize scholarship on Christianity.

Dorothea, once married to him, tries to help him with his work. She soon realizes (as a self-educated woman) that his research is horribly out of date and his great unfinished magnum opus, his self-declared life’s work, is in fact trivial.

Also, he can’t read German and refuses to learn, so he’s unable to take into account the work German theologians have already done in his field. Although Dorothea tries to be considerate about it, Casaubon does not take it well when his wife realizes he’s not the great theologian and scholar he pretends to be.

Here comes the smart part. When her husband is extremely ill, he tries to convince Dorothea to make him a deathbed vow. And she gently but firmly refuses. Without even knowing what he wants her to promise.

Almost certainly, given the contents of Casaubon’s will, the deathbed vow he wanted to extract from Dorothea would’ve been never to marry his young, poor cousin William Ladislaw. Because Casaubon knows Dorothea is a devout woman who takes her marriage vows seriously. She wouldn’t commit adultery, but Casaubon also knows she’s nuts about Ladislaw and he likewise.

Casaubon knows he’s dying, though. And once she’s a widow, she could marry Ladislaw after a respectable period of mourning. Dorothea will not make her horrible husband any deathbed promise despite his emotional blackmail and despite not knowing what promise he wants. She gently but firmly points out that he’s not thinking clearly because of the pain, and she sticks to her guns.

Dorothea gets a raw deal from all the men in her life, not just her husband. Her uncle and her brother-in-law (Celia’s husband the baronet) find out from Edward Casaubon’s solicitor the scandalous terms of his will. They don’t tell Dorothea (even though it directly concerns her), but do tell Ladislaw.

And they convince Ladislaw to leave Middlemarch and end all contact with Dorothea after Casaubon’s funeral, to save his widow’s reputation. Because of course, if the terms of the will come out, everyone will assume Dorothea had been having an affair with Ladislaw and her husband had caught them at it. Casaubon leaves the bulk of his considerable fortune to his wife, but only on the condition she never marry Ladislaw. If she ever does, the money and land go elsewhere.

Dorothea doesn’t really need the money (she’s an heiress in her own right). But there would be a massive scandal if the terms of the will came out. Which they would if she ever married Ladislaw.

And of course, George Eliot knew from painful first hand experience just how vicious scandal could be. As a middle aged spinster, Eliot fell in love with a man who was estranged from his wife. He couldn’t get a divorce, so eventually Eliot decided love was more important than her reputation, and she lived in sin with him. Really fucking big deal in the 19th century. So she knew what Dorothea the fictional character would face.

Dorothea does find out the terms of her late husband’s will eventually. And does eventually, with full knowledge of the scandal it will cause, marry Will Ladislaw and forfeit her inheritance of her first husband’s estate. I’m still not 100% sure Ladislaw is worthy of someone as quietly awesome as Dorothea. But he’s a much better man than Casaubon. Admittedly, that’s not a high bar.

I wanted to say that under no circumstances would I have given men the chance of saying that I sought money under the pretext of seeking something else.

[elsecrytt]

HC: Waking Up With The Boys

Crossposted on Ao3 - just some headcanons about. Mornings with the Obey Me! Crew. Originally Barbatos wasn’t included, so, bonus for tumblr friends? Do I have tumblr friends? Hope I make some lol please enjoy!!! I gotta do something on this blog lol

Lucifer

-           Poor man probably wakes up at like 5:30AM sharp every day, starts a very specific morning routine for Maximum Productivity. He probably does work even in the morning before leaving for class, actually.

-           Considerate enough to let you sleep in, but he’ll wake you up maybe a half hour before you need to leave. Probably in a flirty way because once his routine is done, he is ready to go as the Lucifer we all know and love.

-           If you are enough of a morning person to catch him sleeping, you refuse to take a picture. God’s most beautiful creation sleeping peacefully beside you and you’re gonna share this vision with the world? Please. They can seduce the Avatar of Pride themselves if they want it so bad. Soft sleepy morning Lucifer is all yours.

-          Soft sleepy morning Lucifer dear god in heaven why did you make him like this how does he look this good at five in the fucking morning

-           A morning person? No, a Morning Star.

-          He’s absolutely gorgeous and very soff for you when he first wakes up. You can’t decide if you love his sleeping face or the drowsy smile he makes, lashes half-lowered at you, when he wakes up and sees you beside him. Black-red eyes, normally so sharp and piercing, linger on you with warmth and blatant affection.

-          Lucifer almost never makes himself vulnerable but when he sees you sleeping as he wakes up? He’s struck with a sudden understanding of what people mean when they say they just can’t get out of bed in the morning. Even he doesn’t realize the face he makes, how he stares down at you like it’s his own hands he’s leaving in his bed instead of his lover.

-          There is a pride in being trusted, in how you let yourself be defenseless before him, how you feel secure enough to cling to him despite the threats he’d issued to you in the past. How you shiver for lack of his company. It swells inside him like a weight, the intoxicating and heavy feeling of being needed, wanted, of being valuable beyond measure to his mate.

-           The weight of this pride is comfortable, reassuring, like the feeling of your arm around his waist as he lays beside you

-          On the rare instance he gets to sleep in, he’s likely to hold you until you struggle out.

-           If you really want to leave, he’ll let you, but like… why? You’d have a hard time leaving the bed at least, even if you just wanna sit up and do something on your phone while he rests his head on your thigh.

-          He probably likes to pet your hair before he leaves the bed. You get dressed yourself but he will absolutely look over your ensemble, straighten any stray locks, tug your uniform into place here or there. Your reward is the winning smile he makes when he decides you look just perfect

  Mammon

-          C u d d l e

-          He may be your first man but in the morning he is a distinctly Last Minute Man. Unless you’re also the type to spend only 5 minutes getting ready, you’ll be waking up before him, extracting yourself from octo-Mammon’s grasping limbs.

-          Probably whines about it too, the big baby. But you wouldn’t be with him if you didn’t find that absolutely heart-wrenchingly endearing, and god, when he gives you that bleary, misty-eyed desperate look, croaking out for you to come back, just a few more minutes babe…

-          He is a graspy needy greedy boy but he doesn’t actually fight you and lets you disentangle yourself freely, grumbling and whining about it all the while. You can even feel his hands running towards whatever bits of your skin are uncovered, just to get that last touch and feel of you before you go.

-          Mammon never holds you too tight or keeps you from getting up when you try. He only ever asks you to stay.

-          Unfortunately you are in love with Mammon so It’s Super Effective!

-           Levi actually said that once waiting for you two to get up. Bastard.

-          Weak!!! You are weak!! Lucifer blames you at this point because you were supposed to have the brain cells in this relationship! Instead you are putty! Play-doh!! A Mammoron!! You are never going to get any breakfast from Beel at this point! F O O L

-          It’s okay your First Man Demon has a nice little café you can both run through on your way to RAD for a little breakfast bite. Eventually Satan or Belphie will start hiding away a plate for you, too. Not Mammon, though. He starves like a dog, and begs food off you like one, too, much to the entertainment of his brothers (your plate has an extra large serving just for that).

-          If you don’t need to get up early then it’s just a matter of whenever one of you really really needs to pee. Or gets super hungry. And even then, you’d better stay out so he slinks out of bed, and scrambles down the stairs or through the hall to wherever you are as soon as he gets dressed, just a little but more rushed than usual. If you come back to bed too soon he’ll just give you the old puppy dog eyes, sad and scared, like he must have disappointed you, like the Great Mammon isn’t enough… won’t you please stay with him…

-           Oh yeah sure he’s your clingy little bitch who’d do anything for you but ultimately you are completely whipped for your clingy little bitch so you’re going to get your ass back in bed with him and you know it. So stay up and about and your good boy will come to you.

-          It’s emotionally damaging how he looks so good in the morning when he straight up doesn’t even try. Mammon doesn’t even shower in the morning, only at night before bed, to maximize the time he can spend being asleep in your arms, or with you in his.

-          How does his hair look this good when he only barely combs it? You ruffle it on the regular, it feels like you’re sinking your fingers into clouds, the softest white down imaginable, while he hums and blushes and beams and makes the most pathetic excuses you’ve ever heard about how lucky you are to get to pet him. Boy is literally purring in your lap while he proclaims he doesn’t like this kind of thing or anything, but he’ll let you do it.

-           He’s right tho. He’s so right. You’d kill for this. But only good boys who admit their feelings get to hear that kind of talk and Mammon usually takes the kind of coaxing better done at night than at morning.

-           You would also kill to have hair like this though because what the fuck Mammon he’s literally a model, he doesn’t need to practice any hair care or skin care beyond the barest of essentials, you can muss his hair however you like in the morning and he still comes out looking gorgeous just how the hell is this fair!!! How!!!

-           And he’s dating you! This hot mess of a man demon!!! All yours!!! How!!

  Leviathan

-          This man doesn’t even attend class most of the time lmao what did you think you were getting into when you got into that tub with him, hm?

-          Octo-mammon ain’t got nothing on our tail boy. You’re wrapped up beside him in a tub, curled into one another, limbs fitting together in whatever way felt comfortable at the time. The slightest move messes with the jenga (you know that tail is gonna squeeze you a little out of reflex) and you won’t be able to leave without waking him up.

-          Why are you leaving? Why are you abandoning him? What did he do wrong – no, of course you’d ditch him at the first chance, he’s just this loser otaku, ugh, who wouldn’t –

-          It’s grating to deal with for sure but Levi’s hangups are a part and parcel of who he is. Reassure and comfort in the way that works best between you; after a while, he’ll probably get the gist of it.

-          Very awkward stumbling out of the tub and extracting yourselves from the mess of limbs. When he just lifts you up with his tail you nearly have a heart attack okay that was fucking hot do it again Levi

-          No morning routine here, just blushing, turning around for you to get changed, telling you – “No! No, you don’t have to leave, just – just look at the wall! Look at Henry 2.0!”

-          You might be able to catch him in a mood every now and then, though. Half asleep, half awake, not quite 100% aware of everything going on around him. Only barely avoids stumbling into things. He’s so cute you could die.

-           Days like these, Levi will hold your hand absentmindedly, help you into your RAD jacket, or let you help him into his, not really thinking about what’s happening, just unconsciously accepting your help and your presence.

-           It gets as far as you pulling him down the stairs by his arm; he follows obediently until the dining hall’s lights get in his eyes, his brothers are there and he’s holding hands with you AHHHHHHHH

-          Be prepared to be woken up at strange times though, when there’s some event going on or some other, anything that he has to wake up early for, he totally will, and the jenga of inextricable intimacy goes both ways.

-           It’s cute tho cause if you do your best to pretend to still be asleep you get to catch how he quietly panics to himself about maybe waking you up, and then gently sets you back down, carefully attempting to settle you into a comfortable position without him.

-           And then the thought of you being comfortable without him gets to him, and he kisses you goodnight, runs his fingers through your hair… and maybe the tail comes out, just long enough to reach back into the tub where it dips in to graze your fingertips. Since you’re not actually asleep, you grasp at them, making him freeze and shiver before he continues on.

-           (When Levi doesn’t actually wake you up, and you stay asleep, you act just the same, which is why he doesn’t realize it when you're only pretending to be asleep)

  Satan

-          Not a morning person but also not too grouchy, he’s not the type to make much of a fuss. Surprise surprise, he’s a lot like Lucifer here; gets up, gets himself ready, commits the appropriate crimes against fashion, heads downstairs for breakfast.

-          He’s a bit of a tease so he’d totally leave you in bed if you’re the type to sleep in and you don’t wake up to one or two casual pokes. Waking you up 10 minutes before you have to leave and holding out your jacket to put on you himself when you get dressed like the wicked demon he is.

-           dw he’s got a snack for you saved from breakfast in this case. He’s not a monster, you know. He wouldn’t do it multiple days in a row, either. He’s read about the importance of breakfast in a human’s daily routine.

-           Are you gonna like Satan when he decides you absolutely will wake up right now no five more minutes? Is he gonna care? No and no, unfortunately this SOB is well aware that you love him and he can do no wrong even when he bullies you.

-           But YEAH the little shit is always sneaking soft glances at you. If you’re the type to sleep in really late he’s likely to just snag something (or a couple somethings) from the breakfast table to watch you sleep in his room. He finds it charming – calming, even.

-          If you wake up on time, he’ll get ready with you. 0 shame about undressing or dressing himself in front of you, but if you have any, he’s gonna laugh and tease you.

-           If you wake up before him, you might have a shot at sneaking looks at his cute sleeping face… Lucifer was right he’s so deceptively sweet and smiling and then those electric green eyes pop open and he’s blushing and smirking at you both at once.

-           Killer demon instincts, lovestruck bookworm boyfriend.

-          Extremely difficult to bully back because of killer demon instincts. If you wake up earlier than him, you’re likely to wake him up, too, as you walk around. He’s a pretty early riser but you’ll get some grumpy looks if you’re an even earlier one, and he might give you trouble leaving the bed if you’re always leaving so early.

-          On free days he will happily hold you securely against him and completely ignore any attempts at escape. He’s reasonable, though, if you promise him you’re just headed to the bathroom, but he won’t take that excuse a second time if you try to make an unsanctioned escape. You’ll have to make up for his loss somehow…

-          Probably the best out of all of them at keeping you in the bed tbh. Satan has no problems offering you incentives to stay in his arms; cuddling, sexy times, or even the legendary power move… he pulls out a book, settles you sitting back against his chest, rests his chin on top of your head, and starts reading to you. What are you gonnna do about it? Leave?

o   This will go on for hours, or the whole day, as time permits. Sometimes even if it doesn’t, particularly if that means problems for Lucifer… or if he just needs some time to recharge with his favorite person.

 Asmodeus

-          Another morning routine man, this time for skincare and beauty purposes. You think his face is naturally this clear? Nah, he works for this, babe, and he’ll work for yours too if you let him.

-          Probably thinks it’s cute if you wanna sleep in tho. If you wanna be zombie and let him wash your face and brush/style your hair while you’re half asleep he’s gonna be all over that, thinks it’s the most adorable thing in the world.

-           Most mornings there might not be time, though, if you desperately want to sleep in then he’ll let you, although it would be very cute if you were a heavy enough sleeper for him to dress you while you were asleep~

-          TOP TIER CUDDLING RIGHT HERE. When the time permits. Probably better at it than Belphegor tbh. He knows your sleeping position(s) very well and what places you feel comfortable having pressure put on, can read your body language like a book, and has loads of experience in bed – what, you didn’t think he only meant that, did you? So naughty, darling~

-          He is a slut. A snuggle slut. Little cuddle whore. Absolute bitch for a good spooning. Yeah, you like that Asmo? Like that leg over your thigh? The arm around your waist pulling you close? Filthy needy cuddly boy. It’s disgusting. You’re so fucking into it.

-           The only consolation is that he’s actually pretty floored by this sort of talk. Asmo pulls out his usual “Awww, you’re so cute!” and “My heart is racing!” quickly enough but it’s pretty obvious you’ve got one over him. He buries his face in your shoulder and wails that he likes you too much and fuck you’ve never seen him this adorable before

-           It doesn’t last long though because he turns it right back around. Asmo platonically calling you a his cute little snuggle slut is unlocking in you a level of horny you weren’t aware even existed

-          Will his cute little cuddle babe give him your hand so he can do your nails this early in the morning?

-           Of course you will, you are wildly infatuated with him and being doted on this early in the morning raises your heart rate enough to actually wake you up. Even if you do feel completely comfortable with him, it’s not like you can fall back asleep while he’s awake and giving you all this attention

-          He’ll pick out your outfit for the day, every day if you let him, and even help you into it.

-           Asmo makes an adjustment here or there to your RAD uniform – maybe he ties a certain knot into your tie, rolls up your sleeves or leaves your buttons undone a certain way, just a special, stylish touch depending on what he thinks suits you. It is stylish and when you don’t have him to put it on you’re a little at a loss.

-          Gives you a kiss before he gets out of his bed for his morning routine, probably plays with your hair. Just one more kiss before he’s off to wash his face – two, three – a peppering of showered kisses. He’s so excited to be able to kiss you good morning, too, it’s energizing for you as well.

  Beelzebub

-          Resident soff boy. Always awake in time for breakfast, and he’ll wake you up for it. If you sleep in, he will save you a plate – aren’t you lucky~

-           Even if you are a heavy sleeper he is more than capable of lifting you up out of the bed, sitting you down, tugging you out of your nightclothes and into your RAD uniform. Beel knows all the nice, gentle ways of waking up and taking care of a sleepy person, and several less than nice ways if you can bring yourself to fight the demon incarnation of a big, fluffy Saint Bernard

-          Probably showers in the morning as well as later on in the day, being an athlete. Will be totally comfortable showering with you if you are so inclined.

-           This is the method by which you, if you are particular about these sorts of things, are able to select his body wash and shampoo/conditioner. Beel will absolutely lean down or even kneel before you if it means you’ll touch his hair all nice-like.

-           The absolute balls on this man, telling Mammon he had a ‘lame, goofy smile’ with the way he beams at you like a puppy getting petted while you scrub his hair. What a goddamn hypocrite. And who says there’s anything wrong with a big goofy grin? You’d kill or die for Beel’s dopey, beaming face, thanks.

-          Dries your hair very nicely with big, warm hands. He loves running his fingers through it; long or short, just the brush of your hairs against his fingertips as he works the heat from your scalp to dampen the wet away. Will happily use a hair dryer if your hair is long or you’re more style-conscious/pressed for time

-          Wakes up at a pretty normal time but if you get up early, he’ll just get up and start getting ready alongside you without complaint. Beel being earlier to breakfast has certain… effects on the household but that’s Lucifer’s problem, not yours.

-          Probably the least cuddly out of all of them in the mornings; he’s great for snuggles when he’s got a snack or he’s tired from a big workout and an even bigger meal, but other than that, he’s a pretty active person. Even when you can sleep in he’s likely to wake up, gently extracting himself from however you are entangled and getting himself ready before he comes back to you

-           Will probably bring back food for you and feed you breakfast in bed. It’s not like there’ll be leftovers, anyways. He’s a gentle, chill giant, but also he’d be completely unabashed at the prospect of licking food off your fingertips or vice versa.

-           He works out; he’s not one to lay in bed all day. Past any breakfast in bed he’ll be tugging you out of the blankets, lifting you up, trying to get you to be active and start your day. He knows that sleeping too much is no good, after all.

  Belphegor

-          “morning”? sounds fake

-          You probably have to drag him out of bed a lot of the time. Sure he could manage on his own but with you in bed with him Belphie just does not see the point bro. Just stay in there with him. Take another nap. Cuddle a bit. C’mon…

-           Sure Beel will help you tug him off the mattress but that’ll require you to get up and off the mattress, first.

-           Beel might normally help him get dressed, but that’s your job now that you’re responsible for getting him into something resembling wakefulness. If he sleeps so much, he should be able to wake up on time! Sloth is no joke.

-           But he’s so fucking adorable when he’s sleepy and you’ve coaxed and cooed him into being unresisting as you dress him up. And yeah, maybe the careful way you undress and dress him is a part of why he lazes around, sitting up, standing, and helping you where absolutely necessary… he does love having you do the work for him.

-          W A R M

-          He’s like an actual demon on your shoulder, except giant-sized and cute, constantly tempting you with his big, soft pillow, and his silky hair, and his calm, easygoing demeanor. Sloth demon says it’s nap time all day every day.

-          Most likely to try and convince you to come back to bed even after you’re dressed and dragging him down the stairs. His success rate is not 0%

o   Levi’s commentary to this effect is summarily rejected, but of course Belphie thinks it’s funny.

-          It’s a good thing he’s so close with Beel because otherwise you’d never get anything. But the big brother of the pair keeps you fed, despite his own misgivings.

-          Clingy clingy sleepy boy. If he were to drift back into consciousness while you were asleep, he’d have absolutely no plans of waking you up, at all, ever, and would probably go back to sleep quickly, himself. But…

-           Always happy to adjust his position, your position, for maximum comfort. He is a comfy cuddler who likes to rest part of himself on you, or part of you on him, or any manner of arrangements between the both of you and the pillow.

-           Looking at your cute sleeping face sure does things to him. You’re so peaceful and vulnerable and close, right next to him, sharing your warmth with him. It’s been a long, long time, since he’s really had anyone but Beel, who’s much bigger than him, and all hard muscle and demonic strength, for all his gentleness. You’re soft and fragile and human, and feel so so good to rest against.

-          He always wakes up surprisingly quickly after you do – it’s just the getting him up that’s difficult. And with him, it’s always the same refrain – five more minutes, ten more minutes, another hour, come on, whatever you had to do today wasn’t that important, really…

-           Good luck removing him from the bed when he doesn’t have any RAD. If it makes you feel any better, you can probably sit up in bed and let him lie against you while you do whatever. He’d prefer you resting against him but he’s happy to accept just your warmth at his side. He always wins, anyways; everyone has to sleep eventually.

 Diavolo

-          We all know Barbatos wakes him up. With his energy levels and massive enthusiasm for basically everything, he is probably morning person. Likely sleeps at the same time every night after years and years of routine. He’ll drag you into it if you’re sharing a bed with him, give or take half an hour.

-          You actually feel like you’re sleeping with a several-thousand-year-old man because as a morning person, he’ll go to sleep early and wake up early. 11pm no longer exists.

-           He does go to parties every so often but now you know more about how he never seemed to be around at the end, or walked you home or whatever – you’d assumed he left early like a true celebrity, but no, he’s like? Straight up headed to bed like the old man he technically actually is.

-          It’s a good thing he wakes up early, too, because he’s a heavy sleeper and a pretty large guy. Diavolo isn’t necessarily clingy like some of the others, but he doesn’t need to be; he can peacefully fall asleep with you in his arms precisely because there’s absolutely no escaping him until he wakes up.

-           Of all the demons on this list, except perhaps for Mammon, his control is the most impeccable. Even in his sleep he would never squeeze you too tightly or crush you too hard against him. But he will adjust and re-adjust, ever aware of your weight in his arms, tug, and pull you close, stopping just short of the threshold of your discomfort, and no amount of resistance will so much as stir him unless you’re straight up willing to bite.

-           Unlike Mammon, though, Diavolo was never an angel. He was born a demon, through and through, and his unconscious desire will keep you by his side, against him, where you’re safest, where you’re his, where he can keep you happy and keep you with him

-           It’s okay, Barbatos will set you up with an alarm or a taser under your pillow or something. dw about Diavolo, he’s a powerful demon, he can take it like a champ. He’s got the good graces to be ashamed about it when he wakes up, but what can ya do when you’re a future demon king and you’ve always been given everything you wanted, all the time, and the human you want most in the world is in your arms right here and now? Not hold them?

-          Most of the time he’ll wake up before you, though. Diavolo sees your cute sleeping human self and He Literally Can’t. He Cannot Even. You are. Too cute. Too precious. Congratulations, you can make a (future) Demon King squee in your sleep.

-           He just barely manages to stop his unbelievably loud laugh while he watches you sleep because he is a Good Boy

-           The type to get up, get dressed (Barbatos might actually help him with that in the morning lmao), and then just watch you while you’re sleeping. Listen, you knew he was a demon already, you signed up for this. He can’t get enough of your sleeping face, your docile form that he can arrange on the bed however he wants. Maybe he sits up against you in bed, rest your sleeping head in his lap, against his chest, in his side, relishing in the comfort of your presence.

-          A good match for a grumpy morning person because this bastard radiates Morning Demon Energy. He is awake and he is happy about it and if you aren’t happy about it he’s going to be aggressively happy in your direction until you are.

-           He may or may not be able to help you get dressed or do any morning routing stuff but he definitely likes to fiddle with the collar/tie of your uniform or put on your jacket. It’s a new sort of experience for him, doing that for someone else, and he will jump on any opportunity to engage with you and feel helpful

-           Ugh, morning people, right? God he’s just so stupid and tall and handsome and his smile is so bright and dumb and friendly and he’s always so cheerfully oblivious to other people’s feelings, yet heartfelt sometimes.

-           and he makes a really really good big spoon

-           and cuddles super well and can pick you up and hold you in any position so easily, he’s so strong, god that fucking BODY

-           UGH MORNING PEOPLE RIGHT

  Solomon

-          Night Owl man for sure. Has about a million ways of keeping you up with him throughout the night, only some of which are lewd. To be fair, it’s all very enriching – either to studies or to your relationship with him. He has a lot to talk about, even if he somehow manages to say nothing about himself after hours of conversation.

-          “Routine” is probably a bunch of magical getting ready quick tricks. The bastard probably doesn’t even need to get dressed, just snaps his fingers and his clothes are hanging off him. He offers to help you though. Naturally, it’s his responsibility, since he was the one who –

-           Doesn’t actually always undress you but he’d probably always offer to help you get dressed. Your clothing may find itself lost or misplaced until you cave and ask him for help. Maybe one day you carry a little glitter pouch in your pants pocket as revenge, that’ll teach him…

-           Jokes on you Solomon is absolutely utterly into this shit and when you pull one over on him he is thoroughly delighted

-          Actually a very light sleeper (72 pacts ain’t super safe) but pretends not to be. You’ll figure it out eventually, he knows, but before you do, he’s hoping to catch you fawning over his sleeping face.

-          Lucifer may be god’s most beautiful creation but Solomon is possibly the most beautiful human. Oh my god. Look at this man. Fair hair, that smooth face with clean, sleek features. The only minus is that you can’t see his eyes but his eyelashes are white. What the fuck. Did Asmo give him beauty tips? Does he just have a spell? Are you under a spell??

o   Asmo can’t enchant you but apparently Solomon can do it in his sleep. His hair is too soft. He can’t be human, right? No human can make you want to pet his hair this much. Maybe him and Mammon are using the same hair products.

-          Solomon almost tears up a little bit feeling you stroke him and sigh as you ponder your lovesickness. He doesn’t recognize this feeling in himself. Vulnerability and shows of affection are things of the long-distant past.

-          He wakes up before you and doesn’t pretend, sometimes, because this is a novel experience too, having another human sleep so close to him. It’s been so long it feels like it’s never happened before, and it feels different now that he’s different; he’s been so disconnected and dissociated it feels strange to think of you as his love who is holding onto him, instead of another living, breathing human who will eventually wither and die.

-          For all his obnoxiousness he will totally teach you some magic tricks to streamline your morning routine along with him. Less time getting ready means more time chatting with him.

-           Asmo taught him to do makeup so he will do that for you the long way, actually, if you like, and his sense of style is really good. Well, you think it’s good. You think he looks good. Listen, if you were turned off by his strange fashion choices you would never have gotten this close to him to begin with, it’s really not that weird –

-           He’s just so happy he gets to touch your faaaaacceee he can’t remember the last time he touched another human’s face. It’s so soft! The feeling of your cheeks against his fingertips is warm and smooth and so pleasant to the touch, he almost doesn’t want to use a brush. He’s got to ask Asmodeus about skin care, you should preserve what you can, as best you can…

-           The funny part is that Solomon doesn’t fucking say any of this to you so he’s just standing there, smiling at your face like a creeper, humming contemplatively to himself while he strokes your jaw. Like, you’re into it, and you know what he’s actually thinking, but damn Solomon sweetheart this is why people call you shady

  Barbatos

-          Has passed far beyond the realm of “morning person”. Time is immaterial to him. His day is separated into I am the Prince’s Butler and I am a Baker and recently I am a Boyfriend.

-          Yes he does sleep. He IS a demon and demons need sleep. There is in fact a bed in his room. How is this possible, you ask?

-          It turns out our dear sweet Barbatos is a FUCKING CHEATER

-          CHEATING WHORE

-          ABSOLUTE HACK

-           All of the doors in his room lead to different timelines, including the entrance. Barbatos can sleep until 10am in the morning in his room, and open a portal to 5am outside his room, then leave and start the day without changing the timeline at all.

-           This is okay though, because now you’re in on it, too. Barbatos takes great pleasure in being your cuddly morning boyfriend, with that added perk of permanently being allowed to sleep in.

-          No WONDER he always has the energy to deal with Diavolo all the time, and no wonder he never lets anyone in his room. This is where Barbatos rests, where he gathers his strength (and dear god does he need it), and rests, completely and utterly gone to the world, assured in the fact that he will never ever be disturbed.

-          Literally impossible to wake up before him. Future Barbatos, who’s already slept in, will always return with breakfast five minutes before you wake up. Where is the Barbatos of the present timeline? Who knows. Maybe only one of him can exist at once?

-           The only way to avoid this is if you tell him with your best pleading face that you want to cook breakfast with him… in which case he will still just wait for you to wake up whenever it suits you best, and then gently, with that terribly serene smile and significantly-less-dead-than-normal looking eyes, ease you out of the pillow and blankets, lead you towards the kitchen.

-           Probably doesn’t trust you with many kitchen implements when you’ve just woken up, even if you are a morning person. But you can lean over his shoulder and hug him while he works. Even if it makes it more difficult, Barbatos is never anything but happy for the challenge.

-           That the breakfast is always delicious, no matter how much of a part you have in baking it. It’s always healthy and balanced, too. If you’re eating it in bed, there’s probably more finger foods. He makes your favorites, but also introduces you to something new every now and then.

-          At this rate you are going to forget how to dress yourself. Does he also have a portal in his closet? To worlds of never-ending fashion and comfortable, stylish clothes which you can never seem to easily zip up all by yourself?

-          Showers with you to ensure you use the appropriate products at the right time. He carefully makes sure the water is not too hot or too cold, shampoos your hair thoroughly with excellent massaging skills; his nails are surprisingly long and just a little bit sharp, a gentle, soothing scrape against your scalp that helps you feel really clean. Then applies conditioner, making sure not to rinse out too much, scrubs you down a bit with body wash while the conditioner does its work.

-           If you shave he will help you shave. He’ll even shave for you (yes, he has done it for Diavolo, yes, he will help you shave anywhere, if you want it) and he never so much as leaves a nick.

-           Also carefully applies body oil or lotion either in the shower or as you dry off, in order to keep your skin soft and healthy. He does touch it a lot after all :)

-           Will style your hair like an absolute professional. Diavolo is always wearing his hair the same old way so if you’re interested he’d be THRILLED to try out some new things and hone his skills on you in that respect.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Win

stiles stilinski x reader / masterlist

summary; a little pre game warm up never hurt anyone / warnings; smut, handjob, orgasm denial, fantasies, dirty talk, swearing

His cock leaked in you palm, as you ran your skilled hand over it, your thumb swiping over the tip as he released a desperate whine, burrowing his head back into the head rest of his driver’s seat. Stiles was at your mercy, ruining his bottom lip with the prying of his teeth, as he desperately tried to buck his hips up into your grip.

Each of his hands were sternly wrapped around the circumference of the wheel, his knuckles turning white as he relentlessly held onto it. It served as a source of relief, he was able to take his prominent frustration out on the battled steering device as he breathily sighed, his amber orbs screwing shut as he mumbled your name.

“Fuck. Shit. Don’t stop.” You had not intention of doing so, and thus you sped up your pace, watching him as he inhaled heavily through his nose, his dark brows furrowing as he felt close. And then, you stopped, denying him of such an end to the pleasure. “Fuck.” The syllable was elongated, drenched in disappointment as he hit his forehead against the top of the steering wheel.

“Something wrong baby?” You smiled, tenderly running your precum slathered hand over his tense shoulder, him slightly shivering from the soft contact, that poised strongly against the treatment that he had just gotten from you.

“No.” He steadied his breathing pattern, pulling his flushed face back, and hollowing his cheeks in dismissal of thought. He knew your intent, he knew it was well, but it still wasn’t good enough. Not when he wanted nothing more than to fuck you in the backseat of his jeep, until the windows were pent up with steam, and the vehicle was having trouble remaining stiff on its wheels.

“You’re going to win that game, aren’t you? If you do, then you’ll get your surprise.” Clasping your fingers in the sides of your shirt, your heaved the fabric gently up, watching as his eyes ogled, filled with supple desire, and some drool leaking out of the corner of his chapped lips.

“Yeah, imma win.” He was certain of it, you were giving him all the control that he needed. From the leather bra that resembled the outfit that catwoman often adorned herself in, messy stitching purposely running up the seams, it was full reassurance that the competing team was going down.

And then he would go down on you, and discover the matching underwear, that was surely loose around your hips, with various strings hanging from the sides, to make an appearance of disarray upon the sultry and figure hugging component.

“Good. Because I wouldn’t want to have to spent all this money on this little treat for nothing. I could reuse the cat ears that are in my bag for halloween, but this set, well I’d never get a refund. And you wouldn’t deserve to see them, now would you?”

“No.” He firmly spoke, feeling himself grow hard in his lacrosse shorts once more, as his feet tapped frustratedly on the floor of the jeep. You dropped your shirt down, leaning over the console and kissing his cheek.

“Win baby, then we can ditch the after party. Might even let you fuck me in the locker room.” Winking at him, he felt his mouth gape at the half filled promise. His tongue swirled in his mouth at the thought, as his eyes flickered over your whole demeanour, attempting to read the supposition and how it ran over your form.

“The girl’s locker room?” He asked hopefully, being met with you flirtatiously batting your eyelashes, nodding with a prominent grin contorting your face. “Fuck yes.”

“I know you’ve never been in there, but it’s a fantasy of yours. But imagine being allowed to come in there, huh. Sounds good, doesn’t it?” There was a teasing edge locked onto your words, and Stiles wasn’t sure that he would last until after the game.

“Better than good y/n/n.” He sighed, leaning his head back. “I’m gonna go out there and bust, I can’t fucking stop thinking about fucking you in the little girl’s room.”

“So I’m a little girl now?” You contemptibly asked, grazing your hand upon his thigh, until you grabbed his cock, rolling the girth around in your grip.

“No. Definitely not.” His face was flushed as he painted prolifically. “Just wanna see your tight cunt, feel it wrapped around me, squeezing me til I explode. All that’s on my mind now.”

“That’s a shame, cause your dad is gonna be watching your game. It wouldn’t be fair would it, if I allowed you to go out on the pitch all hot and hard, would it?” Wildly, Stiles shook his head, surveying you through half lidded eyes as you tucked your hair out your face, and ducked your head, pressing a kiss onto the pale skin of his thigh.

Your teeth pinched the flesh, extracting a gasp from the lacrosse player, your tongue darting out to lap at his balls. His lips pursed together as he tried to stifle his moans, his hands flying to the dash before him, as he endured the texture of your tongue swiping upon him.

With your right hand, you found purchase on his cock, tugging once more at his length. As you did so, he sputtered out praised, though that was usually not his forfeit, but you allowed his mistake to slip, this once at least.

“Do you want to cum before the match Sti?” He whined, allowing you to continue pleasuring him, unaware of what the consequences would be if he accepted your offer. It was not you just being gracious, it was practically vandalism of his body.

Stiles wasn’t sure he’d survive in Beacon Hills much longer if you were to treat him so vigorously. He felt like a bomb, prepared to convert damage in his surroundings all for one goal, and that was to find some bliss within all this madness.

“Yes. Please. Baby I need to- uh. Shit, shit, shit baby, I can’t-“ you ran your tongue over his spilt milk, lapping it up with kitten licks, as your y/e/c eyes stared ruthlessly up at him. His seed coated your tongue like molten gold, and with such greed, you gulped every shovel of the substance down, holding your smirk at bay until you were finished cleaning him up.

“Too bad, you’re not gonna get any release later tonight though. Guess painting the walls of my locker room white is no longer on the table, you’ll just have me purring instead. Good thing I know where they keep the canes for the bad boys.” Stiles froze, instantly regretting ever considering you would gift him out of mercy.

Before he could retaliate with wet eyes, or blubbery responses, your eyes drifted away, and to the lock screen of your phone, your tongue swiping over your lip, as you contently put it back away. “If you wanna win for me, you’re gonna have to go now babes. I’ll see you on the field, m’kay?”

He couldn’t refuse your kiss, not as you leant towards him, and pressed your lips upon his own. The taste of himself wasn’t so horrific, he rather enjoyed having the affects of what you did to him dancing on his tongue. One thing was on his mind, and that was the only priority he had; it didn’t matter if there was a darach in the local premises, carrying out sacrifices.

It was his aim to win, either way, he couldn’t be an example of a virgin sacrifice, not considering you had so blatantly offered to take the weight on his shoulders with a shrug, and proceeded to do much more than just that. Even if he wasn’t allowed to cum again tonight, he was still eager to claim his prize, after all, it was one of his hormonal dreams, that could play out into reality, so perfectly, and filthily.

[musing-and-music]

For the kissing prompt, can I ask more than one? 😅

If so, 4, 14 and 50, but if I need to choose, just 4 would do too haha

Thank you for the ask! Of course you can ask more than one!

I assumed it was for Royai, and chose to combine numbers 4 and 14. Sorry in advance for the angst 🙁... I think I've been inspired part by this song, Si j'osais by Les Frangines, and @smoothshine's young!Royai arts

4 and 14. An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose and A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished.

The train whistled as it stopped in the town's small station in a cloud of steam, suddenly stealing all the courage Riza had gathered as she accompanied Roy-Mr Mustang, she corrected- all the way from her house.

The young man rose from the bench and took his suitcase. He approached the door of the wagon in front of them before he turned back to her. He smiled, but his eyes bore that same strange sadness she had seen when he'd told her it was time for him to leave. As she rose up in turn, she tried, unsuccessfully, to give him his smile back.

"Well, it's time," she said in an attempt to fill the silence that had settled between them and in the station. Only a few minutes left, and she'd never see him again. The certainty had made its place in her heart on the day he'd managed to create a flame with the simplified array he'd extracted from his notes, from her back.

"It's time," he repeated, but he didn't move. "Thank you again for your help, miss Riza."

"I'm the one who should thank you, Mr Mustang. Have a nice travel, and I hope you will pass the State Alchemist certification."

"I hope too."

They stayed still, and the exchange of platitudes died. Time was passing, and Riza found herself wanting to do something before it was too late. Before she couldn't see Roy anymore.

He took his decision first.

"Can... Can I hug you?" he asked, hesitant.

She nodded, and with a few steps toward him, she was soon engulfed in a warming embrace, her nose against his shoulder, breathing his masculine scent now spiced by smoke, her hands clinging to his winter coat. She'd wanted that, and now she had it, she barely understood why she'd postponed this moment for so long.

She felt Roy's hands in her back, his cheek against her hair, his heartbeat in her chest -unless it was hers.

Too soon, they parted, and she met his sad gaze once more. She couldn't stop herself and rose on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, for a last good-bye, the last thing she knew she could give him.

What she didn't expected was Roy turning his head and their lips brushing for a short second. Taken aback, she pulled away but kept her hands on the lapel of his coat. His black eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open, his breathing short.

Then his right hand closed around her wrist, keeping it against his chest, and his left one slid on her waist to bring her closer, as his gaze filled with a new resolve.

Their lips met once more, intentionally this time, and the world around them faded away.

It was her first kiss, and she was giving it to Roy Mustang.

It was her first kiss, and all her being focused on it. On Roy's lips on hers, open and brushing them tenderly. On his nose bumping against hers, inhaling sharply when she opened her mouth to meet him better. On his embrace tightening when he let go of her wrist to wind both his arms around her waist. On her now free hand sliding up to cradle his neck, the other getting lost in his hair, soft and silky beneath her fingers.

It was her first kiss, and she didn't want to let go.

She felt Roy spinning them both on the platform, to add to the feeling of vertigo she was feeling because of their kiss.

The whistle of the train split them apart, panting. Riza's lips ached for more, and she read the same desire in Roy's eyes. But the moment had passed. It was over.

Roy smiled, tender, sweet, sad. "Thank you for everything, Riza. I wish you the best."

She nodded, words stuck in her throat. She watched as he took his suitcase again and walked away from her. He stepped on the train and turned around to look at her one last time.

The train rattled, taking with it the only company Riza had had for days. The only person she'd trusted enough to give him her secret.

She wished him to make of his ideal a reality.

😘 From these 50 kissing prompts!💋