#best mistake 2

[unknown-cold]

It is true that Vander here tried to advise her to avoid problems, but unfortunately Vi did not understand this advice at the time.

How could Vi understand it when her whole life was built on fighting?

Vi only knows how to fight. Since she was a kid, she fights to protect her sister and family, then she fights in prison to survive, and when she gets out of prison, she fights again to find her sister. So after everything Vi has been through, it's natural for her to find fighting as the only way to vent her anger and sadness.

Vi is one of the most tragic characters in the show. It is right that there are other characters who have gone through and will go through bad experiences, but Vi is the most suffering and miserable of them in the show.

I really hope her story ends well, because she deserves it.

[sunny-knight]

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL!!!

WRONG TIMELINE, UNDYNE-

Saw this image, got the idea, and knew what I had to do.

Rare Undyne and Wingdings interaction! im curious of what she thinks of him with the little information she has, like he is technically her coworker, both being co-runners of the underground below KING ASGORE

And yet at meetings hes either a no show, or his brother is there on behalf of him (I assume, at least)

Either way I had fun making this cause ITS JUST SO FUNNYCDHHBDE and I adore Papyrus and Undynes relationship I really gotta draw something between em. ITS SO UNDERRATED! And a lot of the content I see is really flanderizing both of them so :(

Bonus non blurred version plus some work in progress’

This is why Wingdings doesn’t go outside much…

I wonder what hes thinking about

[nonbinoclard]

a conversation on the coast (original fanfic + inspiration)

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[robinrat]

Good omens au where they are both artists

Crowley makes very modern and abstracy art. He isnt happy with anything he makes and is constantly looking for change in his works. He pays the bills with winning prices and getting a place in art galaries.

Aziraphale make hyperrealistic art and while he happy with what he makes. (He paint portrets of rich people that pay a lot, he earns more then crowley this way) he is verry envyous of crowley because he know he will never be able to paint that freely

Crowleys loves aziraphales steadyness and thinks his work is impressive

Aziraphale loves how crowleys work is always something new and loves it even if crowley doesnt

When they meet crowley learns from aziraphale to love his work and that he doesnt need to invent something new every day

Aziraphale learns from crowley how to let go of the specific style he works in and paint freely

[illmoraineakoi]

Do you guys think that if Chosen ever learned of the 'deal' Orange made with Alan in AvA4, he'd automatically see it as Alan using it to indenture Orange to him and blow a gasket?

Especially if Orange recounted the deal incorrectly, or perhaps even if Orange himself misinterpreted or misunderstood it.

Because the original wording of the deal was "If you help me animate, I'll let you free so long as you don't wreck my computer."

Alan likely meant this to mean that so long as Orange didn't mess up the computer and helped him animate, Orange would be allowed to live on the computer. Which is already a little questionable, placing a stipulation on having a place to live. A very 'earn your keep' sort of vibe.

But the original deal makes no mention of RGBY or their role in everything. Honestly, it seems like they just kinda moved onto the desktop at some point between 2015-2017. But like most things with Orange, things tend to revolve more around them than himself, when it comes to his priorities.

So I don't think it's too out of the question to think that Orange automatically pooled them in with himself in this deal, and they became another factor of it when they originally weren't involved at all.

A common interpretation I've seen is Orange misunderstanding the deal, and thinking that if he helps Alan animate, his friends get to stay too. IE: If he doesn't, Alan reserved the right to kick them off or bar access to the computer from them. Placing a stipulation not just on Orange's own ability to have a place to live, but on his ability to see and have access to his friends. Turning it into a privilege earned by fulfilling the responsibilities expected of him.

Orange undoubtedly likes to animate with Alan, that's not an issue, but perhaps he still thinks that he has a responsibility to do it in order to maintain the status quo of not just his life, but all of their lives. Maybe he sees it as a sort of 'payment', in a way. Perhaps he doesn't even really believe that Alan would be mean enough to revoke those things from him, to do what is his right to by the terms of their deal, but there's a part of him that's secretly unwilling to chance it.

Or perhaps he doesn't even think the deal is active anymore. It's been so many years, after all, and they've ruined Alan's files multiple times (unintentionally) and nothing's happened. It could've long since become null and void.

But from Chosen's perspective, it would likely seem a lot worse than Orange ever thought it was. Perhaps even worse than ALAN realized it was.

Because Alan has put a price tag on Orange's right to even have a place to live. A price tag (potentially) on his ability to see and interact with his friends. A price tag on his nice, happy life. Maybe even a price tag on his very life.

And I think Chosen would be very upset about that. And perhaps even more upset when Orange seems confused about why he's upset about it, when Orange doesn't understand how predatory it looked from Chosen's perspective.

After all, it's not even a very big price tag. It's just a little animating. It's not that bad, and Orange likes doing it anyway, so what's the problem?

But at the end of the day, it is still little more than a ball and chain made of words and letters, binding him to doing what Alan wants him to do with the potential threat of ruthless punishment should he disobey or rebel of cause harm to the computer.

And really, what difference is there, between using a stick figure as a pop up blocker and using one as an animating assistant? Does the fact that he enjoys it really outweigh or justify the fact that you've placed a condition on his very livelihood since the day of his creation?

Yeah. Chosen would not be happy.

[ghostdrinkssoup]

gladiator 2 was mid because hanno should NOT have been above killing acacius. we were robbed of a revenge story where hanno takes his rage out on the wrong man and faces the horrors of his vindictiveness. paralleling him with maximus is boring; paralleling him with commodus would’ve ignited something rabid and beautiful in my brain

[wildsaltair]

today’s topic for discussion: what on earth did Maximus’ soldiers think when they found out he was “dead”? like, their beloved general who fights like a god and is adored by everyone is just… deceased? kicked the bucket? gone on to a better place?

and what did Quintus even tell them to make it believable?? that Maximus died in his sleep of the same “natural causes” Marcus Aurelius died of??? he had an accident with his sword???? he wandered into the forest and never came back?? like what could you possibly tell Maximus’ men that they would believe??

[whispering-kavka]

friends i love crocheting so much . why does it hurt me so

[spaciebabie]

artfight is coming so i gave him a new outfit. also he wouldnt be an oc if i didnt give him one of my many issues i struggled with growing up: anger (as a response 2 a traumatic event). the image where hes having a panic attack basically is after he yells at kat and makes her cry (deep regret and he knew he had issues b4 but now hes really determined to get better) its alluded 2 in the (new) beginning of the story but i dont plan on showing it until later

[reddeadsredhead]

I thought I'd try doing a direct recreation of one of my many screenshots of Sean in colored pencil, did a hell of a lot better than I expected

[bluelolblue]

✧ To Feel Human ✧

This fic was inspired by this post by the amazing @thewhumpcaretaker <3

Relationship: Santino D'Antonio & Acheron

This got into 5k words of Acheron helping Santino out with a bullet wound and Acheron feeling more human than before with his master. I chose: "Holding their neck or wrist to feel their pulse but not squeezing in the slightest" but not in a nsfw way, this is pretty much whump, hurt/comfort but has deeper moments with Acheron and how he is trying to process his feelings. And how humans are complicated. I also changed my writing style a little, mostly with Acheron's inner dialog, those are written in italics. I hope it'll be enjoyable to read! :] | Line divider

Warning: This also contains a bit of graphic descriptions of a bullet wound and blood, a character being kinda fascinated by heartbeat and humans in general.

How did I miss it? I don't understand… I was right there. Right there, near the door– behind Santino. I… no, this wasn't supposed to happen. I'm supposed to protect him– my Master. What is wrong with me? Why didn't I predict it –

“A-Acheron...”

The demon snapped out of his thoughts after hearing his name being called in a strangled breathy voice. He looked up at his Master, whose breathing seemed to get heavier. He didn't look well either, his condition worsened.

Santino’s white shirt was painted with blood over his ribs and it looked like it was spreading more, so he was still bleeding even if he kept the pressure on.

“I'm right here, Master. I have to sterilize the tools– try to stay still.”

My hands are shaking. Why? This has never happened before. I need to calm down– he is losing a lot of blood! Santino– your Master– is dying right in front of you! Snap out of it!

Acheron's breath hitched for a moment and he could feel Santino's exhausted and confused look, though he didn't have enough strength to comment on it.

“Breathe for me, Master. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Come on– look at me–” the demon gently held his chin to make Santino look at him, to focus on him since he looked like he was drifting away for a moment. “We can do this together, okay? It's going to hurt, yes… but you're stronger than this.”

The Camorra prince tried to keep eye contact with him, tried to inhale for a deep breath but even that hurt. Every sharp inhale felt like stabbing, like the wound and the bullet pulsed within him.

“Fuck– it…” He choked and his body shook violently, but Acheron placed his hand on his thigh to let him know he was there. “H-hurts to breathe…”

Acheron cursed in his head, already thinking about other possibilities but he couldn't do anything if Santino didn't calm down.

“I know,” he sighed sadly, tapping on his thigh, “But, I need you to try to focus on breathing and me. Stay still, I'll breathe with you. It'll be over quickly,” Acheron instructed and started breathing the way he told his Master. Santino struggled to follow, but his assistant encouraged him and the way he was looking at him, with this comforting look yet there was still worry in his eyes.

Santino managed to inhale and exhale a couple of times while Acheron prepared everything. “Good, you're doing well,” the assistant praised as he got the tweezers ready. “I need to unbutton your shirt and disinfect the wound.”

“Fine…” D'Antonio muttered. Even if he was feeling vulnerable and weak, and the thought of him being exposed even more was terrified, he had no choice but to listen. His flight or fight response was triggered but another part of him kept reminding him that this was Acheron helping him. That he was allowed to relax and be vulnerable around him. He winced as his assistant got to the last button and the cool air against his feverish skin wasn't the most pleasant feeling.

“Let me see,” Acheron said softly, waiting for his Master to move his hand away from it. Santino shakily moved his hand off the wound and it bled out again, dripping down his waist which Acheron tried to wipe away with another bandage. He gently tapped the injury, trying to clean it enough to start the process.

The Camorra prince groaned in discomfort, but also let Acheron do what he had to. He wanted to push him away, yes, to order him to leave him alone. Yet a part of him wanted and craved his help.

“I'll pull the bullet out now… just breathe through it, okay? It'll be done quickly.” Acheron looked up at him, searching for his approval, to be sure he was still with him.

“Just get it over with…” Santino muttered, his exhausted eyes met his servant's but there was a hint of desperation in his fierce eyes.

Acheron nodded, murmuring some words of reassurance under his breath as he prepared the tweezers. He was holding them in front of the gaping wound, examining what would be the best way to get the bullet out. He had to think quickly and the sudden anxiety wasn't helping him either.

It was a weird feeling, his whole body felt tense, his chest felt heavier and painful and his hands were still slightly shaking.

You idiot… get yourself fucking together already. Just pull the damn bullet out!

He was screaming at himself in his mind and he took one deep breath to calm himself, and Santino.

“Breathe with me, Master. Look at me, focus on breathing and me.” He pressed the tweezers slightly into the wound, just to finally start and get his boss to work with him.

“Dammit, Acheron! I-I'm fucking trying–” Of course, Santino snapped a little and winced. Like a frightened animal and the demon could've guessed it was coming.

“Look at me and breathe,” Acheron urged, he sounded like he was the one giving orders now, but he had to calm him down even if it meant to sound strict. Though, he still had a gentle tone.

Santino cursed at him in Italian, but didn't fight back. He looked down at him, inhaling sharply only to be cut off by his own gasp when he felt the tweezers sinking deeper into his skin.

“Good, okay… getting there,” the assistant praised, giving a light squeeze on Santino's knee to ground him and not let him spiral. “You're doing well.”

D'Antonio bit back a whimper and gritted his teeth, gripping the sheets with one hand while the other one was holding tightly on his shirt. He felt how the bullet was slowly being pulled out and to him if felt like it was agonizingly slow. He could feel it inside his flesh, near his ribs, feel the cold tweezers in his burning wound… he was overwhelmed, his heartbeat racing almost too fast for his comfort.

“Fuck! Aah– just…” Santino groaned, panic kicking in, but Acheron was quick to react.

“Shh, I got it. Trust me… it's almost over.” He had to carefully pull it out, not to accidentally damage his ribs or anything else and he knew it was painful, but he didn't have any other choice.

The blood kept dripping down, but it wasn't an alarming amount, at least not yet. It just looked nasty, and enough to make Santino look away at the sight. His breath hitched and a moan from pain escaped him when Acheron pressed the tweezers deeper. He slammed his fist into the mattress from frustration and pain, it was from instinct, just trying to grasp at something– anything even if he would tear it apart.

“You're doing this on purpose, you bastard!” He muttered through his teeth, ready to throw more insults but all that came out was strained moaning.

“I’m not– but if you keep moving, it'll get in deeper.” The universe seemed to hear him at that moment and do exactly what he said. The bullet slipped from the tweezers hold. “Shit. It's okay– I got it.” Acheron was quick to grab it again but it sent a violent shiver through Santino's whole body.

“You idiot!” Santino groaned but involuntarily moaned when he felt the tweezers being retrieved back from his flesh.

“There we go,” the demon murmured and placed the bullet in a metal bowl he had prepared. It clinked and made the Camorra prince flinch, bringing him back to reality. “You're alright, Master, just stay calm.”

More blood was spilling out from the wound, it felt like it was pulsing which genuinely made Santino feel nauseous for a moment, but he exhaled shakily, trying to calm his breathing down.

“Should've left the bullet in…” He murmured, more to himself than to Acheron but his assistant heard him.

“Don't say such things, Master,” Acheron said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He felt guilt creeping up on him, the anxiety was still clawing deep inside him and now this? The way Santino looked absolutely defeated and sounded like he was about to pass out made his feelings feel more intense than ever before.

D'Antonio huffed a weak laugh, which turned into something similar to a choked sob, he squeezed his eyes shut, avoiding Acheron's gaze.

The demon didn't want to push him further, so he continued to treat his wound, murmuring soothing words and telling him everything he was doing.

“Keep breathing deeply like that,” he whispered and gently took a hold of Santino's wrist, not that his master had the strength to argue about it. He placed his fingers over his pulse, it was steady enough and the warmth of it felt… nice, alive, human like.

“I'm not dead, you know…” Santino said hoarsely and Acheron snapped back to reality.

“I know,” he replied quietly, carefully cleaning the blood around the wound. “I'll have to stitch it. But I can't have you passing out from… exhaustion. It's too dangerous… I can't just do it while you feel everything–”

“I've seen and felt worse… I'm giving you permission…”

Acheron met his eyes and he recognized that look. Santino was serious about it, pain was his whole life, yes, the demon was aware of it, but he really didn't want to cause him more pain.

“I refuse,” the demon said, keeping the pressure on the injury with a disinfected bandage. “You were in too much stress for me to use any ability… it would only harm you more… though you've calmed down now. I can try to numb the area so I can stitch it. But I won't let you get through more intense pain.”

D'Antonio only looked at him for a few more seconds and then exhaled deeply. “Do whatever you want.”

“I promise I only want to help you… but you also need to help yourself. And to help yourself, I'll need you to steady your breathing a bit more and focus on me,” Acheron instructed and was glad to see that Santino was trying. He was trying for him.

He took several deep breaths, occasionally glancing at Acheron who nodded in encouragement.

The other man felt his pulse again and was pleased with the process. “I'll use only enough to make you not feel intense pain. There might be discomfort but I'm afraid that's all I can for now.”

“You pulled a damn bullet out of me, this can't be worse, can it?” Santino smirked weakly, wincing as a short breathy laugh that escaped him sent a jolt through his body.

Acheron chuckled softly. “You don't want to find out.” He pressed his fingers around the wound and started the process.

Santino felt like the area was being poured with warm water, the pain was fading away, not entirely but just enough not to feel his own injury throb. It was much better.

“There. Do you feel my fingers?” Acheron asked as he lightly pressed near the wound.

“Kinda like pressure but… it’s not painful,” Santino replied, feeling slightly more drained but he knew that would happen if Acheron used his ability.

“Good. Just relax.”

The Camorra prince nodded weakly and let his assistant do his work.

It was more uncomfortable than painful, like light pinching from time to time and pressure going through his flesh. He bit back whimpers, watching Acheron work.

He really looked more human than ever. There was more emotion in his face, his movements were gentle– just like always but now his touch felt deeply comforting. Santino couldn't explain it in his mind, after all he was feeling exhausted, so nothing felt like it was making sense, but… Acheron was different now. Good different.

“Doing okay?” The demon asked softly, glancing up at him.

“Yes… just tired,” Santino murmured, shutting his eyes closed for a moment and focusing on his breathing and the quietness of the room.

Acheron hummed in agreement, piercing another stitch through his skin which made his master let out a strangled whimper but he also muttered to him to continue.

It didn't take long for the demon to finish with stitches, he worked better on it than most of the medical teams Santino had.

“This should be fine,” Acheron said as he finished the last stitch, examining if there was something he missed. “I'll heal you once you recover enough… you'll need lots of rest, Master.”

Santino sighed deeply and leaned back, his palms pressed against the mattress as he felt his body betraying him with exhaustion.

“I'll feel that in the morning…” He murmured with a faint smirk.

“Probably,” Acheron agreed and was aware of the struggles with healing from a bullet wound. “But I can assure you it'll pass. It'll take a few days but you should recover quickly.”

There was something heavy and burning in his chest the moment he looked at Santino. It wasn't like the anxiety he felt, no. This was something tempting, something warm that was telling him to feel him. His pulse.

He hesitantly took a gentle hold on his master's wrist, brushing his thumb over the warmth of his veins. He couldn't understand why he was so drawn to that, but he had a strong need to feel that pulse.

“Are you okay?”

Acheron blinked and let go only to meet Santino's tired but concerned look.

“I just have to make sure you're… not in any danger anymore.” That was true but not completely. But then again he wasn't even sure how to explain the emotions he was experiencing.

Santino was about to say something when the medical team arrived, out of breath and smelling like gunpowder. Acheron glared at them over his shoulder and they froze.

“We're sorry for the delay– the situation outside was–”

“There is no excuse for letting your boss almost bleed out!” Santino doesn't recall ever hearing Acheron yell at someone, not at his staff at least. He was mad, he could feel his frustration and how he was holding back not to transform into the demon wolf to tear them apart.

The staff winced and took a step back once Acheron got too close to them.

“There was no other way we could enter– everyone was shooting at each other.” That was true and Acheron could understand, but he believed that Santino's safety was the priority, nothing should stop him or the bodyguards from keeping their boss safe.

“Enough!” The demon snapped strictly and the room got quiet. Santino stared at him, amazed by his reactions. “I took the bullet out and stitched his wound. You can examine it and give him what he needs to feel better.”

The staff nodded and quickly moved past him, getting their medical supplies out. Santino let them examine him, he didn't really care anyway. He trusted Acheron more than anyone, he knew he did everything right with his injury. Then again, he could use some pills, he was feeling quite drowsy.

Acheron watched their every move, ready to step in if he had to, keeping an eye on his master's body language and expressions. He seemed fine, irritated, exhausted but alive and safe.

The medical staff injected anesthetic near the wound to numb the pain, as well as some sedative medicine that Santino wasn't very fond of drinking but he had no choice.

“He should be okay and heal in a few days. Wound is clean and stitched… professionally. Well done, Sir,” one of the medics explained and gave a respectful nod at Acheron.

The demon only hummed, pleased with their work and stood by Santino's side.

“And I'd recommend not moving too much, or at least for a day or two because of the stitches. Just in case…” The other one added and D'Antonio let out a frustrated sigh, ready to snap at them but Acheron stepped in.

“Alright. Thank you both. Now make sure the mansion is not under an attack anymore,” he ordered. The staff nodded, preparing to leave and do what they were told. Until one of them flinched when they felt Acheron's grip on their shoulder. “And don't let this happen again. Being late for your boss won't be tolerated. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” they replied nervously and made their way out.

Acheron watched as they scurried, sighing deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I'm starting to think I'm not the strict one here,” Santino chuckled weakly, buttoning his shirt.

“They failed to help you in time, there is no excuse for that,” Acheron said, wanting to help him with the shirt but his master murmured that he can do it himself.

“I didn't really care,” the Camorra prince muttered and accepted a glass of water his assistant brought him.

“You didn't, but I did.” Yet he still couldn't understand how he missed the enemy pulling out their gun and shooting his master right in front of him. The guilt sting deeply in him. “I… I'm sorry, Master,” Acheron apologized, though there was no pride in his voice, in fact his voice was quiet and soft.

“For what?” Santino asked, placing the half empty glass on the counter. He genuinely looked curious on what his assistant meant.

“Well, I… failed to protect you. You shouldn't have gotten hurt in the first place. All because I…” Acheron exhaled, trying to find his words. “Didn't react in time. I don't know what happened… and I am deeply sorry for everything–”

“Acheron, you don't have to apologize. It wasn't the first time I was shot at a meeting,” D'Antonio smiled tiredly, but Acheron still didn't like the fact his master was kinda used to this.

“This will be the last time that has happened. I promise,” Acheron vowed, placing his hand on his heart and bowing his head in respect.

“But you didn't answer my question from before,” Santino groaned as he adjusted, “Are you okay? You seem… distracted today.”

He noticed… of course he did. He notices everything.

The demon hesitated, not even sure what to tell him.

I'm sorry, I felt more alive than before.

I felt like a human.

I was scared of losing you.

I failed you.

It wasn't supposed to happen.

“I… I'm not sure,” he whispered, avoiding his master's eyes. “I suppose I was distracted.”

The moment he looked at him, he could tell Santino wasn't buying that.

“I've never seen you nervous before. I felt it, you know. Your, um… fear? Or something, it was uncomfortable. But I felt that before. Like something is burning in your chest, pulling you, just… it's weird.” It was not often to hear him talk about his feelings, but when he did, the way he would describe them was as if they were monsters or something out of this world. “We humans are complicated… our feelings… but you're not human. Yet you felt it.”

There it was again. The same feeling from before, only not that intense. Acheron swallowed nervously before answering. “I, um…” He found himself fumbling with words, not sure what to say which has never happened before. It was scary, creeping up slowly, making his breath hitch. “I don't know, Master. I've never felt it before… I think I…” He hesitated, his eyes kinda burned and his vision got blurry.

Santino frowned in concern. He himself was bad with talking about feelings so he wasn't even sure how to help him express it or what to do. However, he seemed to understand what Acheron meant.

“Felt human?”

Acheron looked at him and his own heartbeat quickened. The feelings were terrifying, and his master knew that.

“I'm not sure– I guess so–”

“You don't have to explain, Acheron. If it's making you uncomfortable,” D'Antonio cut him off, and with a strained groan managed to lay down, sighing as he closed his eyes. “I often forget you're not human because… you seem so human. Your heartbeat is real, your hands are warm, your soul feels… pleasant. I wouldn't be surprised if you felt that way.”

The room fell silent, the demon only stood there, trying to process everything. Santino read him like a book, noticed every detail and that amazed him.

“It's a weird feeling,” he confessed quietly and decided that he should collect himself already. “But that doesn't matter. Your well being matters the most. How do you feel? Do you need anything?”

Santino huffed, but didn't make an effort to sit up. “Like I have no energy for anything… feels like I was beaten the shit out of me. A shower could be useful, but lying down feels better for now,” he explained, only opening his eyes enough to look at the other man.

“Okay. Let me know if you'll need anything else.”

Later that evening, while Santino finally got enough strength to get himself to the bathroom, Acheron patrolled around the mansion, observing how the rest of the staff was cleaning the mess of the attack.

Everything else seemed to be going back to normal, there was no sign of danger and he could finally relax.

By the time he returned back to Santino's room, he found his master already dozing off. He looked so peaceful, exhausted, calm. Not like a Camorra leader he was, but just an ordinary tired person. Human.

Acheron moved silently towards him, just to check on him to be sure when he heard a mumble.

“You don't have to sneak around…” Santino winced when he tried to stretch a little, he almost forgot about his injury.

“Just wanted to check how you're doing. It'll be better for you to find a comfortable position and rest,” Acheron murmured, giving him a warm smile.

“That's kinda what I'm trying to do,” the Camorra prince muttered. “Have you checked everything?” He sighed, giving up on finding a comfortable position.

“Yes. Everything is fine, the night should be calm,” Acheron answered, placing some boxes of painkillers and a glass of water on the counter next to Santino's bed.

“Good. Tomorrow's gonna be busy… because of that asshole and everything.” The pills and anesthetic seemed to start taking their impact on him. His eyelids started to feel heavier and his words got more slower, yet he was still talking. “Maybe I should shoot him… or something… bastard did this to me.”

His assistant chuckled softly, finding him this exhausted that he was babbling adorably funny.

“We'll figure it out tomorrow. Rest now.” He was about to leave, but D'Antonio stopped him.

“Wait. Stay a little longer.”

Acheron turned to look at him and nodded. He sat on a chair next to the bed, and prepared himself for Santino's tired babbling.

“Did you really have to press those tweezers that deep in me?”

The demon couldn't hold back a laugh that escaped him, he himself almost forgot about that.

“My apologies, Master. The bullet slipped away, I had no other choice. But you handled it well, listened to me and did whatever you needed to get yourself through it.” Even if it meant snapping and wanting to tear things apart.

“I did… insult you during it. I'm sorry…” To get an apology from Santino was… extremely rare. And now he seemed more vulnerable, being sedated and tired, he could apologize now but snap in a minute. “You're the best bodyguard I've ever had. I don't wanna make you feel–”

“Master, don't even worry about it. You were in pain, it was understandable, and right now you're exhausted. You need rest, I'll take care of everything else.” Acheron didn't want him to worry, the last thing he needed now was more stress.

They talked some more, probably for an hour since it didn't take long for Santino to start drifting into sleep again. Acheron stayed with him the whole time and admired him in this vulnerable state.

He looked beautiful, messy but still elegant. Yet something else also caught Acheron's attention.

Santino's pulse. His heartbeat.

He could hear it even from a distance if he focused hard enough. He watched how he was breathing, his chest falling and rising with each breath, how comfortable he looked for the first time today.

How could someone be so… stunning while sleeping? All he's doing is breathing. He's so vulnerable now… but clearly is trusting me to see him like this. I've never… never met someone like him. I can't stop looking at him, or listening to his heartbeat. I want to… feel his heart.

Acheron hesitantly reached for Santino's hand that was out and resting near his face on the pillow. He just wanted to feel his pulse, just for a little while. His touch was so light that his master didn't even flinch, he was deep asleep.

His pulse felt slow but not in a bad way, it was more in a comforting way. The demon gently brushed his thumb over his veins, just to feel his warmth and pulse some more. But he knew where he could feel his heartbeat even more.

His neck. It was exposed so beautifully, highlighted by the light from the moon coming through the window.

Is this right of me? I just want to feel his pulse. I don't know why I need to feel it, but something is not letting me have peace until I do so.

He carefully placed his two fingers over his neck, over the vein pulsing. It felt stronger than before, Acheron's breath hitched. He could stay like this for so long, just feeling how alive his master was, how warm he was, how his heart was beating so elegantly.

He wasn't sure how long he spent there, feeling his pulse, admiring him, but it felt like it was hours.

Santino slightly shifted in his sleep and Acheron took that as a sign he was standing here for too long. The reality of what he was doing made him uneasy, he felt weird, but one part of him was pleased.

He finally left the room, silently walking back to his own room while fidgeting his fingers. He could still feel the warmth of his skin on his fingerprints.

Humans are complex. How their heart beats so gently, how the blood is warm and rushing through their veins. Why does it amaze me? Or is it just my Master? I am so stunned by him, I cannot explain it… but every day I feel closer to him, like our souls are being connected more than before. Ah, I guess I'm just as complex.

Acheron spent the rest of the night thinking about everything, about Santino, his feelings towards him, just everything that could possibly come to his mind. It was a long night of just staring at his ceiling on the bed, alone with his thoughts. Then again, he could still feel Santino's peace, and occasionally hear his heart beating when he concentrated.

In the morning, at around 9 am, Acheron went to check up on his master. Santino was still sleeping, only changed his position a little but nothing else was different.

He checked again at 12 pm, when he heard a sleepy groan and saw Santino shift some more. D'Antonio looked a bit disoriented, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to fully wake himself up.

“Morning, Master,” Acheron greeted softly, letting Santino adjust to the light of the room.

“Fuck… what time is it? What day– ah…” He winced and whimpered when he tried to sit up, but felt his stitches stretch. “So it wasn't just a nightmare… Dammit, this shit hurts…” There he was, the Camorra prince being grumpy, the one Acheron knew very well.

“Don't strain yourself. It's 12 pm, the longest I've ever seen you sleep.” He had to playfully tease him just a little.

“I overslept? I have so much to do, I can't just stay here all day. Even if I want to,” Santino murmured, already being frustrated and having tons of racing thoughts.

“I'll take care of everything. If you're still tired feel free to sleep for longer. You went through a lot, it'll be better if you rest as long as possible.”

Santino was thinking about it, about his options. He was still very tired and the wound started to hurt again. He really just wanted to stay in bed.

“Fine… if you can take care of everything, you can have as much of my soul as you want,” Santino murmured with a light smirk. “And bring me some fresh water, will you? I'm dying of thirst.”

The demon chuckled and did exactly what he was told. It looked like Santino was coming back to his old self quickly, just as Acheron thought.

He spent some time with him, brought him breakfast, which Santino refused at first but eventually his stubborn mind decided he was hungry after all, and gave him painkillers.

“Thank you, Acheron… for everything, really. Ah, see? You're so human… and I think that's not bad, you don't have to be afraid of that feeling,” D'Antonio said after he watched him for a few minutes.

“Always, Master. And I suppose I could… try not to let this feeling get the best of me. I'll work on it,” Acheron promised, and Santino could tell there was determination in his voice.

“Just don't let it destroy you. Trust me.” The Camorra prince gave him a wink as he sipped on his water, wishing it was wine.

Acheron understood, Santino just didn't want him to suffer the way he did. Humans suffer every day, fight their own demons within them, no wonder his master was warning him about it.

Human or not, feelings could be strange. They could feel overwhelming, strong, painful, scary, like a monster clawing deep inside you.

Acheron had many masters before Santino, but he never felt this way with any of them. Their souls have a deeper connection, he could feel that and he liked it actually. Just that emotions were still a bit scary to process.

[castielsupernatural]

i think the last 5 days of my life have been a hallucination

[acatslifeif]

What are the ROs ethnicities and nationalities?

Matthew: British

Ed: Canadian

Kal: American

Fanna: Japanese

Cheyenne: Egyptian

The Hunter: American

[dzozef]

im in a good mood cause my work enemy is getting her life ruined while all i had to do was keep quiet and do my best 🥱

[goldensunset]

bw1 player character’s mom: ‘maybe i should go on a journey to find my child! oh, but i would feel really bad if they stopped by while i was gone’