#but I didn't know where to split the post

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley/female reader

"Mama."

"That's right little man. That's mama." Orion tucks his face into Simon's chest, sleepy and confused. Simon knows he doesn't understand what's happening, why his mother is asleep in a bed, asleep for days without waking, asleep and hooked up to too many machines.

"Mama!" He screeches, swinging his body backwards, and Simon has to hold him tight, trying to keep him close. Cami says he's struggling, doesn't understand why he's at their house all the time, doesn't understand what's happened to his mum. He's confused, and scared, just a little boy in a world trying to hurt him.

"She's sleeping bub. Mama is sleeping." He bows his head, breathing his son in, swallowing the rattle in his chest. "She's sleeping."

You're sinking into that bed.

It's becoming a part of you, becoming all of you, and no matter how many times they bathe you and turn you and change the sheets, you stay tethered to it. In the mornings, when he begins his watch, he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your mouth, keeping his eyes closed and wishing on nothing that yours will open.

"I'm sorry." He folds your left hand in his. They had to take the rest of your finger, all the way down due to infection, an agonizing reminder of your pain, your suffering. His failure. "I need you to wake up," he croaks in a voice he's only just learned to recognize, one filled with despair, with mourning. "You have to wake up. For Orion and the baby. For me."

He pleads. He bargains. He begs. He promises.

"I'm done now, mama. I'm done. I'll never leave you again. Never leave any of you. 'm taking a desk job, so I need you to wake up so you can be sick of me hanging around the house all day."

Still, nothing.

Once a week, your doctor wheels an ultrasound in to check on the baby. He stares at the screen with tears in his eyes, his hand covering yours.

It's a girl. A perfectly healthy little girl.

He didn't mean to find out but in the pandemonium of those first few days when they brought you here, it slipped his mind. The first time someone talked about the baby, they said her.

"Her heartbeat is strong, and there are no signs of trauma to the placenta. She's okay." 

They left the room afterwards. Left him to his ugly, rib splitting sobs. Left him to press his palm to your belly and rest his head on the bed beside you, soaking the sheets with his tears.

A girl. Your Phoenix.

Today, the doctor asks him to step outside.

"We need to discuss some potential plans of care."

"What do you mean?"

"She's close to delivering, Simon. If she doesn't wake, we'll need to do a c-section." His heart stops. That's not supposed to be for months yet. How long have you been here? 

"I thought... I thought we had more time."

"We do. Another five weeks or so, but I want to put a plan together, so you have time." Time. He needs more of it. So much more of it with you. He nods, and she gives him a sympathetic smile. "Simon, a newborn and a toddler is a lot of work. I want you to prepare for this possibility, okay?" He pushes it from his mind.

"She'll wake up before then." What the fuck does he know about these things? Nothing. But he refuses to live in a world where you miss the birth of your daughter, where you miss her first breath, her first cry, where you miss the moment where Orion holds his baby sister for the first time.

"Simon-"

"She will," he glares and she pats his shoulder before leaving him in the same spot, frozen, staring at the door to your room.

When he sinks back into his chair, resumes his post, he tugs your hand back into his.

"You'll wake up, mama. I know you will."

[district4loading]

Pathetic

Twice Sana x Male Reader

4k words

Content Warning: smut, cheating, mix of degrading and praise

Minors DNI

A/N: First of all I wanna say thank you so much for the support on my latest fic! It motivates me to put out more for you guys and I really appreciate it.

So so so sorry to the person that wanted female reader next, I PROMISE its coming. This is just some smut that was in my drafts, i figured I'd post it while I write the next fic I plan on uploading.

This is cut from a longer fic I wrote a little bit ago. I won't be posting the entire thing because I took alot of inspiration from a different fic I read. Not the smut though, the smut is all my writing so that's why I'm sharing it with you all.

(Also when I mention "Kim Minji" I'm talking about Jiu from Dreamcatcher.)

-

"You're pathetic"

-

One bad night was all it took, an argument with your wife over the way you looked at the intern at work earlier that day. You swore you weren't looking because 'no co-workers' was the rule in your open marriage and you would always honor that. Even if it wasn't, you knew that they didn't like each other so it'd be nothing short of betrayal to fuck someone who hated your wife. So no matter how incredible the girl looked in her short dresses and her tiny mini skirts, she was forbidden fruit.

Minji couldn't trust you though, she knew your type and could spot that look in your eye from a mile away. So she waited until you both got home to confront you about it. Of course, you denied even looking the interns way—a lie, might I add—then it turned into a screaming match, the hatred she had for her subordinate much more prevalent in her fiery eyes.

It ended with a slam of your bedroom door and the expectation that you'd sleep on the couch that night, which you did.

That's basically how you spent the following weekend, not talking to each other and only being painfully cold and passive aggressive when you did. You never liked to fight, it always felt so cold and empty, sleeping in different rooms waiting for the other to apologize. Days had passed, still barely any communication as your weekend fight bled into the weekdays. At work you kept things cordial, still not communicating much at all.

Everyone could tell, people at work could tell, there was a certain coldness in the both of you. You two were similar in that way, being extra shitty to your co-workers when things weren't going well at home. That and the fact that you chose to eat alone at lunch rather than with her.

You were in your office spending your lunch eating some ordered fast food while trying to catch up to a deadline when you heard your door open. Assuming it's one of your assistants you say "I'm on my lunch break, come back in thirty" without even looking up from your computer.

In your peripheral vision, you see the person instead step into your office and close the door behind them. Actually looking up this time, you open your mouth to speak, but the words fail to come out. It's the intern, Sana and she looks incredible. Her hair is straight and black today, very different from her usual brown wavy look but she pulled it off all the same. She wore a cute black dress, its material velvet and its collar white with three cute silver buttons down the midline. Then your eyes drift to her legs. Bare, pale and slim, not to mention there wasn't a bruise, scab or blemish in sight.

"Minatozaki, if you're looking for Mrs. Kim, she should be in her office" You throat goes dry, immediately noticing the interns quick move to lock the door behind her, a mischievous grin on her face.

"She's my boss, I know where she is. If I was looking for her, I would've went to her" Sana rolls her eyes and approaches your desk, leaning forwards to place her palms flat against the maple wood, straightening her arms as well. You look above your desktop, meeting her eyes for a split second before hearing alarms ringing distantly in the back of your mind.

You dart your eyes back to the paper you were working on then you gather up the thread of authority you have left to say "I can't imagine there would be anything you'd want from me, we work in completely different departments and.." You make eye contact for a moment "No disrespect but you're just an intern, so if you could please unlock the door and see your way out.." You say it so non chalantly, almost catching her confident demeanor shift at your passive aggressive tone.

Sana chews on her bottom lip for a bit "Oh don't be like that Mr. L/n..." She fake pouts, acting as if she's oh-so upset about your tone and in a way it was sexy. It's the way she drags out the words all slow in that sweet voice of hers, God it's killing  you. "I just noticed that Mrs. Kim's been extra bitchy this week... you know, at first I thought maybe she's on her period but then I noticed you two are barely talking to each other. Trouble in Paradise?" She asks, circling around your desk to stand beside you.

You look over with a fake polite grin on your face, making the grave mistake of rolling your chair back and turning it so you could face her. "That's really none of your business"

"Oh please, your open marriage is everybody's business" Sana chuckles for a moment and she leans down, holding herself up on the armrests of your chair. You mean to scoot the chair back as far as it can go, stand up and demand that she leave with your voice stern but instead you freeze. You fucking freeze, realizing how close she is and those ringing alarms from before? They turn into blaring sirens "So, why don't you tell me what happened? Whose fault is it? Yours or hers? She fuck someone she's not supposed to?"

It takes you a second to blink, then you swallow hard as you feel your body begin to burn, that nervous heat in your armpits. You catch a whiff of her perfume and it's fucking heavenly, some warm mix of vanilla and maybe cinnamon. Then her face, her beautiful face, one that could've only been hand sculpted by God himself. Her pink lipgloss only making her plump lips look all the more delectable and—fuck you're staring way too hard. "Listen, you're - you're way too close right now"

Sana leans down even closer and conveniently, if you were to look a few millimeters down, you'd be able to see her cleavage pouring out of her dress. "I'm just as close as I need to be, Sir" She says and there's that smirk again, that fucking smirk, the one that says 'I know i've got this mother fucker right where I want him' Now there's a thumping sound that begins filling your ears and it takes a second for you to realize it's your heart.

"I'm married, you should know this is very inappropriate and- "

A whimper escapes your lips the moment she makes a move to straddle your legs. "You're in an open relationship, so this..." She puts her hands on your shoulders "Is fine"

"We have certain boundaries, certain rules that aren't to be broken.. it's what makes us work"

She pokes her bottom lip out and looks at you through her lashes "Am I a boundary?"

"Of course you are! I know you and my wife aren't exactly the best of friends and to be frank, you're a stuck up, entitled brat who seriously needs a fucking reality check" You tell her and for the first time it actually sounds as if you have some sort of backbone but Sana doesn't flinch, make a face or get upset.

She just tilts her head "If i'm so bad, then why am I still on your lap?" She pauses, then looks down observing exactly how your body has betrayed you "And why are you hard?" She asks with a false-innocent tone, God you hated when she used that voice because she just sounded so stupidly sexy. She leans in closer to you, just by your ear "How about you give me a reality check" Her breath is warm as it brushes past your ear lobe.

Then you lose it, like actually lose it. Your hands find their way to her waist and you squeeze, hard enough that it elicits a sharp gasp from her. You pull her forwards and your bodies are now closer than ever, she leans down, arms wrapped loosely around your neck before your lips are pressed together. It's nothing like a rom-com, where the two main characters kiss and suddenly fireworks go off and it's magical and wholesome. No, this was pure raw lust, so strong that if it had a scent, the room would fucking reek of it.

Your lips move together so messily—sloppily as if you're genuinely trying to absolutely devour each other. Sana shoves her tongue into your mouth and you can taste her lipgloss, sweet strawberries, so intoxicating it all made your vision start to blur like a lucid dream. But this is no dream, this is real and the it's the sinful desire that makes it feel so good.

Now she's rocking her hips, whining and humming into your mouth as you suck each others lips swollen. She kisses your cheek and then deviates all the way down to your neck. You sigh a pleasureful breath "I shouldn't be doing this" You mutter, but make no effort to push her off.

She slides back then works on unbuttoning your shirt. "But you want to, I know you do" Her tongue darts out to wet her lips even more than they already were as she focused on getting your shirt off "God, how many fucking buttons.." She whispers to herself with a hot frustration.

This is wrong. You know it's wrong, hell your mind is yelling at you, sending an army of receptors to stimulate your brain to form a coherent rejection. Something mean enough that'll make this evil seductress leave the your office crying. It doesn't work in the slightest, you can't control the way you grip her waist or the way your head stirs from the feeling of being under her.

Sana finally finishes opening your button up "How'd I know you'd have a perfect body?" She mumbled, allowing her cute black nails to scrape against the hard surface of your chest and torso. Your hands drifted, eager to finally get a feel of those legs you've been leering at since day one. They were even softer than you imagined, you grabbed them softly, refraining from digging your fingernails into them. You just couldn't bring yourself to ruin such beautiful skin just yet.

"Sana" You say her name, low and deep, still not taking your eyes off of the way her thighs seem so tiny in your hands. With one hand still on her thigh, your dominant one slides up her dress and you pull her so called panties to the side. The material feels so thin and lacy, you couldn't even for sure call it underwear. "You're already dripping for me" You announce, sliding the pad of your middle finger up and down her slit, just slightly parting her lips so that it can graze against her clit ever so slightly when you reach the top. Her body jerks as you do, a tight gasp escaping her lips.

She's grinding on the pad of your fingers now and you're just watching—observing how she was so desperate, so needy for you. For you. She needed you to do something so badly but you wouldn't yet. It was frustrating her, of course but she just refused to open her mouth to say something so you do "Go ahead Sana, beg for it, tell me exactly what you want" You say it softly, slight rasp in your voice only adding to her burning arousal.

It takes her a moment before she can actually communicate words that didn't sound like pathetic whines. Still, moving her hips on your now stationary hand she mutters "I d-don't beg." She says it so weakly without even an ounce of conviction in her tone. What a fucking brat. You slip your hand from under her dress and they're on her waist again, then you pull her forwards and sit her directly over the rock hard bulge between your legs. She gasps, wet core directly on your clothed cock and when she moves to grind she realizes she can't because you are holding her still.

"You know, my lunch break will be over in a little under 20 minutes. Then people will be in and out of here like clock work and you?" You pause, taking a second to admire her beautiful face. From those pink pouty lips all the way to those dark and lustful eyes. "You'll be walking out of here un-touched and so wet that it's leaking down your thighs" You chuckle for a moment and shake your head "Is that what you want Sana?"

"mm-mm" She shakes her head, then looks deep into your eyes as if the thought of walking out of your office unsatisfied was the worst possible thing that could ever happen in life. "Please Sir, please - I need you inside of me please, please Sir"

You push her back a bit, then slide your dominant hand back under her dress. Your fingers come back into contact with her core and she's looking at you, her eyes begging-pleading for you to take her right here, right now in your office. Ever so slowly, you push your middle and ring fingers inside. She took them easy, a long whine escaping her lips when you curl your fingers "Fuck - thank you sir, thank you, thank you, thank you—" She's chanting in short breaths, her eyes screwing shut the moment you begin to pump in and out.

It's so wet, the sticky sound echoing throughout the otherwise empty office. Her walls hugged you tightly, only making your cock throb even more in your pants when you realized that you were going to be inside of her. Inside of this perfect fucking pussy. "So fucking tight, baby" You mutter as she mirrors your movements, grinding down on your fingers. She's moaning and whining so loud you think someone will hear, but you don't care anymore. Sana looks amazing like this, like she's made for this. To be on your fingers, rutting like a needy slut on top of you as she tries to get them much deeper than they could go.

"Oh - Fuck yes... just like that sir" She cuts herself off with a gasp "That feels so fucking good" You're allowing the pad of your fingers to press against her g-spot and you can tell its driving her crazy. By the way she's moving her hips and squeezing your arms for leverage, she's fucking loving this. Everything about Sana is just obscene. From the way she curses in that filthy tone to the way she's shamelessly

Now her breathing is erratic, like she's about to have a panic attack or faint, and you can feel her walls massaging you. "Are you gonna cum already?" You mutter almost in awe as you stare at her beautiful face. She was so pretty with her eyes closed and her head hung from the embarrassment of being so needy and horny. Then she was soaking, her arousal running down your fingers.

"I - fuck sir - please" She tries to respond, nodding frantically as she begins moaning unabashedly in your face. Her breath warm and shaky as it escapes her lips "Ah - Please make me cum sir, please make me fucking cum" Sana's begging now, pridefully without any kind of shame even though she was in a really shameful position. Riding her superior's fingers on his lap in his office where there's a big ass window in the door. If someone looked through at the right angle, she would've been caught and she knew that. Hell, she gets off on it.

The stirring in your pants gets more persistent, more impatient and it's fucking aching. So you slide your fingers out and for a moment, Sana's still whining and grinding, her fucked out brain still not registering the loss of touch yet. You grab her legs and stand up, then you place her on the desk, right next to your computer and you begin unzipping your pants. "Oh fuck yes daddy please give me your cock" She bites her bottom lip and gives you a look and it almost makes you growl.

Your pants are at your ankles along with your boxers and you're pulling her closer, her legs loosely wrapping around your waist. "You're a real fucking slut" You grab her face, squeezing her cheeks so her lips sort of smush together. In your grip, she nods the best she can, a hot 'mm-hmm' leaving her throat. There's a moment you take to just look into her eyes, the way her eyebrows were upturned, the look of pure fucking want in her eyes. God it was ruining you.

"I can be your personal slut if you'd like, sir" She says it like she's pleading after you let go of her face. Then you hike her dress up a bit more and you're finally lining yourself up. You press the fat tip against her entrance and she winces and looks down. She's holding onto your arms to brace herself "Fuck, it's so big - want you to fucking stretch me"

God she's so filthy, in the way she speaks, moves and stares at you it's unbelievable and you fucking love it. You know you should hate it, you should be disgusted with her. Practically throwing herself at a married man all to spite his wife, her boss at that. You should fucking hate her for the things she's said to Minji and the fact that she hates her. But you just can't get over her body, the way she walks, the way she talks, the way she does fucking anything with that pretty face of hers.

You slide your cock into of her entrance ever so slowly, immediately feeling the tight grip of her warm walls. "Holy shit" You groan and Sana's gone silent, her jaw slack as she looks up and directly into the white light in the ceiling with her eyebrows furrowed. "So - fucking - tight" Your teeth are clenched as you're grunting finally making it all the way to the hilt.

Then you stop for a moment, pulling her even closer "You're so fucking deep i - please fuck me sir, please" You do exactly as she says, pulling your hips back just to thrust all the way back in and she lets out a moan so guttural that it had to have been stuck the back of her throat. Then you're in more of a rhythm, fucking the tight, smooth hole that she's just letting you have. "That's right - fucking use me - oh God"

She's more than just enjoying herself and you're both moaning way louder than you should be. But everything's just too much, because you're a thousand degrees, sweaty and tousled. You can't smell it but you know the room reeks of that pungent aroma, one that could only be recognized for what it was—what it could only be. Sex.

You lean over, resting your head in the crook of her neck so that your lips can come into contact with the salty flesh. "You feel so fucking good - God" You mumble on her skin, licking, kissing, sucking all to make everything feel all the more overstimulating to her. It was something you never thought you'd ever say, but she felt the best out of almost any girl you've ever been with. There was something uniquely warm, tight and moist about her that you've never felt before.

"Yeah - Yeah - Yeah - please don't stop sir, please keep fucking me like that." You can't get enough of her, you wouldn't even stop if you wanted to. Then you're reaching your hand down, tongue still licking her neck as you press your fingers against her swollen clit. The poor thing was practically begging for attention before you got to it. You circled your fingers around it in a way which matched your thrusts.

Now Sana was really seeing stars, like actual stars, her vision even going black at some points. You knew you had her when you first felt her legs begin to shake, then the rhythmic pulsing inside. You lightly bite her ear "There you go baby, cum for me" You whisper so hotly that it's got her right on the edge.

"Yeah" She whispers, her voice shaking breathily and then she gets louder "G-Gonna - Fuck" It's erratic, the way she's moving so rigidly and the insane grip you have on her waist isn't doing any favors. "You're gonna make me cum, you're gonna make me fucking cum" Sana's nodding her head.

Then her back is arched, pushing her chest into yours and she's toppling over the edge. Her moans beautifully silent, caught in her throat as her body stutters and shakes erratically. "That's a Good girl, Sana" You encourage her, knowing that she'd love the praise.

Once she recovers, you don't slow down, in fact you're speeding up almost choking as you now recognize how pent up and sensitive you are. Like you could explode any fucking minute. You know it and Sana does from the way you're heaving and panting like a beat dog. The way your face is red, and then the serious concentration. She squeezes her legs tighter around your waist "Please cum in me sir - wanna feel you filling me up" She moans erotically.

You shiver at this, hearing the words come out of her mouth so fucking easily.. "I can't" Are the only words you can mutter without your voice breaking, it's almost humiliating. But she wants it, she wants it so bad.

"Yes you can" She wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you close, her mouth near your ear now. "Come on daddy, breed me. Mark your fucking territory" she eggs you on in that perfect voice of hers and you almost fucking malfunction. This girl is so dangerous. You mean to pull out, you really do but all of a sudden you can't make yourself stop when you begin shooting your load inside. Fucking it deep inside of her womb, like really deep and she's moaning so loud as if she's the one cumming. She's getting off on it.

The two of you stay like that for a bit, God knows how long with your heads empty and your bodies sweaty. When you finally pull out, your cock already soft. Sana giggles a bit, then pulls her panties back over her raw cunt and she slowly slides herself off of your desk. You're pulling your pants up, fixing your belt and then your button up as she tidy's up her dress. "I shouldn't have done that" You sigh, immediately feeling the regret hit you like a truck now that the lust has withered away.

"Come on, it's not like your marriage is exclusive"

You sit in your chair, leaning forwards as you bury your hands in your face, smelling Sana on them. "We have fucking rules Sana, and i broke them all" You're thinking about what you'll tell Minji, how badly this'll probably fucking hurt her. Way to go, you went ahead and fucked a load into the only girl your wife hates. The one you promised that she didn't have to worry about. Sana opens her mouth to say something else but you don't want to hear it "Please get out and... don't tell anybody about this"

"Okay" She says, but she says it sarcastically, like she doesn't take you seriously. You get up from your chair as she puts her hand on the door knob "I'm fucking serious, Sana. Nobody, not your friends, not our co-workers and certainly not-"

"Mrs. Kim?" She finishes your thought, tilting her head. "You're pathetic, let go of me" She scoffs then snatches her arm from your hands then continues to exit your office. You exhale deeply, and you punch the wall, not hard enough to leave a hole but hard enough to leave a bruise. So you immediately regret it, shaking the hand you used.  Sana was right, you were pathetic.

"This can't happen again" You tell yourself out loud as if it'll make your words true.

It doesn't.

[jaydude1992]

I saw your post in the pro Jedi tag after someone else reblogged it under that tag. Also, Palpatine being responsible for the fall of the Jedi and Republic is pretty much half the point of the PT.

1. Thanks for clarifying what you meant by NGO. That said, I still don't know where you got the impression the Jedi were ever meant to be 100% apolitical. They've always been tied to the Republic in Lucas's works. And I personally don't know if ditching the Republic would automatically make them more effective as overall peacekeepers, considering they'd be giving up their authority within Republic space along with whatever funding the Republic presumably provides them with. Someone's got to pay for their starships and operational costs, after all.

2. I don't see what choice the Jedi had regarding Anakin, seeing as Palpatine outranked them in the Republic hierarchy. And I don't know how exactly the Jedi were able to bring down the Zygerrians, but I wouldn't say they'd automatically be able to do the same with the Hutts without Republic support, since they're only several thousand or so strong and fighting against a criminal empire that controls a small chunk of the galaxy.

3. Didn't Sifo-Dyas commission the clone army on behalf of the Republic/Senate though? My understanding would be that unless there's something in the contract that allows it, they wouldn't be able to go all "our clones, back off Republic".

And I wasn't saying that the Jedi not getting involved in the Clone Wars would mean automatically letting the Separatists win. I was saying that it would likely result in more people getting killed by the Separatists specifically because the Jedi weren't there to protect them.

In regards to the lack of standing armies, my understanding is that the majority of them got downsized or disbanded because there hadn't been a major war within the Republic for a very long time when the Clone Wars rolled around. I do know from Attack of the Clones that some in the Senate felt the need to establish a standing army for the Republic as a whole, while the corporate bigwigs in charge of the Separatists were led to believe that combining their droid armies would give them an armed force greater than any other in the galaxy - unaware as they were of the clones - suggesting the Republic didn't have a particularly strong military presence for all its power back then.

As for why fighting in the Clone Wars became the responsibility of the Jedi, according to Lucas, that was the result of Palpatine drafting them into doing so, and the Jedi went along with it because people would die if they didn't. Plus they'd found out the Separatists were being led by one of their own who'd fallen to the dark side.

As I've said above, I'm personally not so sure that splitting from the Senate would do much good for the Jedi Order's effectiveness as peacekeepers. And I think I should also point out that the PT isn't meant to be seen as a complete picture of the Jedi and their activities within the galaxy. It's the story of how the Republic became the Galactic Empire, and how Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader.

Finally, Naboo. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were initially sent there as ambassadors to negotiate an end to the Trade Federation blockade; they and the rest of the Jedi never expected they'd end up becoming combatants in the conflict back then.

when people go like

'oh, the jedi couldn't intervene in tatooine because it was outside of the republic's jurisdiction uwu'

I'm like: do you think that's a good reason?

imagine if doctors without borders was like that. like, jedi is supposedly a non-government organisation/religious order. the good of the galaxy should not be equated to the interests of the senate and the problem is that it was.

the jedi order became corrupt when they became attached to the republic as an ideal, the senate, rather than the republic, the people

obviously, the jedi storming into somewhere like tatooine and leading a revolution would be an absolute disaster, as social change (particularly something as drastic as a revolution) needs to be bottom-up to be successful. but they could have done something. get a few jedi in contact with the slave underground, be allies and coordinators.

the jedi order loses its way because they sacrifice their morals, again and again, for the supposed 'greater good'. it's utilitarianism writ large.

a good discrete example of the jedi order's flaws is when they negotiate with the hutts for hyperspace lane access.

they know the hutts are slavers and crime lords. that's not a secret.

but, they need the hyperspace lanes For the War

the jedi order keeps peace, yes. peace for who? peace for the billions of slaves? their idea of peace seems to be to maintain the status quo, even as the status quo became increasingly toxic.

the jedi order choosing to accept the clones, choosing to fight the war, it was the easy choice. it was the wrong choice. it was the path of least resistance.

but does that make it right?

no.

think back to the delegate of 2000 meeting:

“The moral authority of the Jedi, such as it is,” Bana Breemu said, “has been spent lavishly upon war; I fear they have none left for politics.”

anyway the jedi should decentralise and help the people, not the Senate

[babybeeelle]

I accidently deleted this post, so reupload🥹

Summary : Coucou ! J’avais une demande si tu le veux bien. In episode 4 Rio will join Agatha during the campfire can you do something in this style but it is Reader who will see Agatha, reader is the only one to know the real story about Nicky and of course Agatha loves Reader and she needs her by her side 😌

Warnings - Angst, Agatha will never forgive Rio

The Weight of Stars

The second trial's aftermath was not any less stressful than the first. Seeing Agatha's trauma resurface from the close call with Teen was unnerving to say the least. You could hear the pain in her voice when she begged Rio not to take him with a simple "don't", although the others were completely unaware of the double meaning behind it.

I saw her though. I saw the gaping wound in her heart that could never be mended. I was there after all. The loss of Nicky snapped whatever sanity and sympathy Agatha had left. Even after centuries, the pain was all the same. She didn't only lose Nicky, but she also lost Rio. Even if she would never admit it, I know that she craves the comfort of Death. But pride and grief are always going to hinder her ability to heal, and she'll never confront them. Not by choice anyways.

After Agatha is assured Teen is okay, she went to join the others by the campfire where everyone traded stories of the scars they've collected throughout their lives. She situates herself in the available spot to the right of me. Unfortunately, for Agatha of course, she found herself seated next to her former lover.

Jen asks Agatha about her own battle scars. She shares a story about one of her many infamous witch-killing rituals, which earns some laughs. That's when Rio decided to share a story of her own.

"I've got a scar," she admits.

Uh-oh.

"No you don't," Agatha denied without even glancing over at her, continuing to fix her sleeve after showing the others her knitting needle scar. I begin to think that whatever Rio has to say is going to hit a nerve.

"Yes I do. A long time ago, I loved someone," she began her story of the only scar she has, a scar that cannot be physically healed. "And I had to do something I did not want to do, even though it was my job." She was attempting to rationalize the situation to Agatha, wishing hopefully that after centuries of separation, her lover would see the bounds of her nature, her job, the shackles weigh down her arms. Rio cautiously glances over at her occasionally, trying to read her expression as she finishes, "And it hurt them. She is my scar."

Rio then held eye contact with her, trying to see if she got through to her, even if it was only a little bit. She wanted Agatha to see she had her hands tied. I watched Agatha carefully, as I knew this sensitive topic was going to do no good. Rio and I both see she is trying to avoid eye contact with her, knowing that despite her devoid expressions, her eyes hold all of her emotions. I watch her hands move, almost as if she is unconsciously trying to summon her purple. Agitated, Agatha gets up from her spot as she exhales, "I'm gonna go stretch my legs." She walks off hastily, away from the others. Rio started to move, wanting to go after her, but I shook my head to express to her that it wasn’t a good idea. That she needs the time to cool off. I stood up, lightly squeezing Rio's shoulder to comfort her.

She knew I never blamed her. Rio did everything she could to give him borrowed time. We had accepted Nicky's fate long before he passed, we mourned together, but Agatha refused. She did everything in her power to find a way to keep him alive. Agatha was so lost in her denial, her mission to save our son, to see that there was no other way, to see that Rio didn't have a choice. The aftermath of Nicky's death was even more painful than losing Nicky. I was put into a situation where I had figure out how to handle the split of my partners. Rio made the decision for me. She knew Agatha was going to need me more than ever. But Rio never lost me. In the moments when Agatha rested, I would check up on Rio. Making sure she knew I'd never leave her alone.

I trailed behind Agatha. When we were out of the eyes and ears of the others, we stopped.

As I close the space between us, I turn her around to face me. I reach out to place my hand to her cheek. As I look into her distressed, blue eyes, I see her facade crumble. I quickly pull her into my arms, wrapping her into a familiar comfort she always felt around me. She collapses in my arms as she muffles her sobs into my chest. It physically hurts to see her in this pain. Our bond, so deep, creates a gateway from her heart to mine. I feel her pain, her grief, her torment. I feel the restless resentment she holds towards Rio.

"I will never forgive her," she whispers, her voice trembling under the weight of her pain. Tears streak down her face, paths were made that glisten in the moonlight.

Pulling us apart to hold her face, I wipe her tears from her cheeks, and I whisper back with a heavy heart, "I know." Nose to nose, I go to kiss her softly, hoping to lighten her pain. When our lips meet, I'm hesitant at first, unsure if this was what she needs. She closes the space between us, deepening the kiss. Our kisses are delicate, slow, passionate, as I feel the tides of her emotions rushing in.

I feel my other lover hiding in the shadows, her heart aching from the bitter truth, wishing most to change the past.

[ithildinwrites]

let me convince u to read windbreaker (PART 1)

windbreaker is a manga by nii satoru and as of 2024 has been adapted into an anime! season 2 (KEEL arc) is coming in spring 2025 :D

i'm going to split this into sections okay here we go this is prob gonna be a long post

THE - MAIN/RECURRING - CHARACTERS (not in order of importance - more in order of appearance) (written last name then first name)

sakura haruka (the mc): sakura has two toned hair and heterochromatic eyes and has been shunned before he moved to makochi (town the series is set in) so he has a negative outlook on a lot of stuff and doesn't normally expect to be treater well by people so he is quick to anger. he also gets flustered very quick when someone is nice to him because he isn't very used to it. he didn't have friends / anyone basically before he moved to makochi and started at furin high school

tachibana kotoha: the first person sakura meets when he moves to makochi and he also saves her from these weirdo guys. nothing romantic has been implied between them btw, she just seems like a very good friend to him.

nirei akihiko (his fit changes literally in the same chap he's introduced and then stays like that lmao): the first friend sakura makes from furin even though sakura is hesitant about it initially. he's not very good at fighting but he's very smart and has a great memory. he's got a good heart. he carries a notebook with notes about lots of the people who go to furin so knows a lot about various people. i'd say he's 1/3 of the main trio alongside sakura and one other guy called suo.

suo hayato: genuinely i think one of the most mysterious characters in the show???? we know next to nothing about him. he's a very good fighter and has mentioned he has a master who taught him but that's about it. he's very chill and makes a lot of jokes but he doesn't look it. he's can be scary when he wants to though, i think he's the cold anger type of guy. he makes up the last bit of the main trio. also no we don't know why he wears an eyepatch

sugishita kyotaro: borderline worships / greatly admires umemiya (the number one guy at furin). he's a great fighter too but he's always angry and we don't know too much about him either. he's got some sort of rivalry with sakura i think but it isn't the main focus or anything, it's like a background thing sorta

umemiya hajime: the guy at the top. he's the number one at furin and the leader. he's very much gives big brother vibes and he's a very sweet guy and he just loves to garden lmao. he worked hard to get furin to where it's at today. he's also a third year. he has a whole arc dedicated to his backstory (wild bc we don't even know much about sakura's backstory). (i put two pics bc the second one is when u properly meet him, the first one he's just talking through the intercom at the school)

hiragi toma: one of the four kings of furin (the 4 third year leaders directly under umemiya). he has stomach issues so he's constantly popping pills lmao but he's a very good fighter. he is also often stressed because of umemiya.

togame jo: second in command of shishitoren (another gang / group). he talks quite slowly but he's a very good fighter and i really like him and his growth as a character throughout the series. he calls sakura "othello-kun" lol

tomiyama choji: the leader of shishitoren. he's very childish but he's a very good fighter. he kind of goes through it during the shishitoren arc but we learn a lot about his motivations and his (and togame's and shishitoren's) backstory during thar arc. he has a lowkey obsession with umemiya to start with, all he wants to do is fight him.

sako kota: there's a history between him and hiragi that gets touched upon during the shishitoren arc and throughout the next few arcs - like it keeps going until like 161/162 i believe, so we learn more and more about them even now. he's a very good fighter, i believe he was called one of the top 5 at shishitoren.

tsugeura taiga: one of the main 5 first years i think? along with obv nirei, suo, sakura and one other guy called kiryu. he's all about muscles and i think he might have an accent? i'm not too sure but he sounds like he's got more of a drawl. he's all about asking people what their virtues are which lowkey reminds me of todo from jjk. he's a really sweet guy though and his fighting style is very wrestling coded. oh update just confirmed he speaks with a kansai dialect - it was said in the notes in one of the later chaps

kiryu mitsuki: the last of the first year's gang i suppose. he's very strong and it seems he's popular with girls but !!!! he seems stylish and is on his phone a lot - i believe he likes gacha game.

kaji ren: he's the second year tamon grade captain. he has anger issues so he always has a lollipop in his mouth. he also talks super loud because the music in his headphones is very loud. he actually reminds me of sakura a lot.

tsubakino tasuku: one of the four kings. very older sibling coded and super caring to his kouhai. it is a guy but he just likes to put makeup on and wear heels and dress the way he dresses. he also is confirmed to be canonically gay! and is in love with (an oblivious) umemiya! i love sakura and tsubaki's relationship genuinely so much

i think from here on, i'll just put the pictures without a description because i want to avoid spoilers as much as possible :)

kanji nakamura

shizuka narita

suzuri shuhei

endo yamato

takiishi chika

THE PLOT (kinda) & STRUCTURE!

PLOT (or part of - as much as i can give without spoiling stuff): sakura moved to makochi to go to a high school called furin because it's supposed to be delinquent central with everyone fighting etc and he wanted the top spot in the school. but upon coming here, he finds out that furin actually protects the town and are their guardians essentially from other gangs and turf wars etc and he learns how to get along with people and makes friends because he's never really has friends before or grown close to anyone. it's a story about his growth and how he changes after meeting people and learns to be cared for kind of and that people can be nice, he protects the town and UGH so much more about building bonds with people :')

i actually see a lot of people compare this to tokyo revengers and i personally don't see the similarities? i watched tokyo rev recently and the only thing i could potentially see to be similar are that there's fights and gang / turf wars but that's more prominent in tokyo rev. i guess you could say there are close knit relationships in both too but i don't really know

ARCS:

introduction arc: chaps 1-4; eps 1-3

shishitoren arc: chaps 5-30; eps 3-10

KEEL arc: chaps 31-55; eps 11-13 (13 is where s1 ends so this will continue in s2)

sakura / tsubakino arc: chaps 56-66

roppo-ichiza / gravel arc: chaps 67-87

umemiya's backstory arc: chaps 88-97

noroshi arc: chaps 98-162 (currently on this arc / at its end i believe - the conflict in it ended so it's like just wrapping up)

MY PERSONAL NOTES / THOUGHTS

i just love this series for all the heartfelt moments and genuine growth you see from sakura specifically. also, whether you choose to interpret the relationships you see as platonic or romantic, they're written so well and i feel like they're so meaningful like they have DEPTH, they're not just surface level friendships or whatever. these people genuinely care about each other so much and it's so nice to see it because i feel like with these types of mangas you don't typically get to see the relationships / bonds between characters given this much care / attention during writing. i love it :')

THE RELATIONSHIPS (interpreted platonic or romantic whatever u want) - this will be continued in part 2

[sarahjacobs]

thinking about jack kelly and developing forms of surveillance. there's long been a preoccupation with rendering the criminal into a legible subject, one that has often taken on racist under/overtones, ie depictions of chinatown and its residents as shadowy and mysterious. and this has led to the creation of new technologies and the routinization of procedure following arrest. such as the modern mugshot and the bertillon system of identification, in which people's measurements were taken to better identify repeat offenders.

(it's worth noting how new these procedures were in 1899; they'd only been around for two decades. nypd didn't use fingerprinting on a wide scale until 1905.)

from the new york city department of records and information services

think of how violating all of this is! people are paranoid about going back to jail/prison even after they're lawfully released, i can't imagine being jack post escape and constantly having the threat of being found out hanging over his head... knowing that changing his name isn't enough, that the police have his photograph and his measurements. they know that there's a birthmark on his neck and the length and width of his foot, down to the half inch. they know him in a way that's so intimate but so scientific and cold. it's just procedure.

i wonder how far he went to reinvent himself — he changed his name, of course, but did he change the way he did his hair? his way of dress? the way he walked and carried himself, self conscious of the fact that snyder and the other officers manning the refuge had been in close quarters with him for months? sometimes jack wishes he could be someone else, anyone else. at the very least, he wishes he could just rip his face off and start anew.

additionally, newspapers would publish the full names, address, occupation, circumstances of arrest, and/or the sentencing received — even for petty crimes.

the evening world, january 6 1894

this one's pretty short, but it wasn't uncommon for accounts to be much longer (one, two, three). jack wouldn't have had access to the papers after his arrest, for obvious reasons, but it's hard for him to just. exist sometimes. prickling with a strange kind of humiliation where he knows he wasn't in the wrong, but there are entire systems and swathes of people who think he was. that kind of feeling of being split apart and having your insides shown to an audience, from undergoing the bertillon system to having his story twisted to fit into the narrative of the police, whether it's in the courtroom or in the papers.

and jack knows that there are hundreds of people who read about his arrest story, which was incomplete; it said he stole food, but it didn't say he was so hungry, he couldn't sleep; it said he ran from the officers, but it didn't say that once the officers caught up, they tackled him to the ground and put him in cuffs so tight, they bruised. there are hundreds of people who either skimmed the section like it was detailing the weather forecast or formed a judgement on jack's character, thinking he deserved all that and worse. or maybe they had a more "humanitarian" take on it, believing that his sentence to the refuge was an act of compassion, a necessary intervention to send him on the right path and reform him into a good laborer who understood that stealing is wrong.

sometimes when jack sells, he eyes the people buying for a little too long, wondering — do they know? (of course they don't, they never published his photograph, even after his escape.) but do they know? did they read the papers the next day? do they think he deserved it?

[beautifulpersonpeach]

So,

As I said earlier this week, I'm on vacation and hope to get around to some of your asks soon. But in the time I posted that and now, things happened, the world has blown up and the life my 67 year old friend and helper had in Oahu, is upended. I'm currently helping with relief efforts for Maui, and if anyone is so inclined, please see this link for a list of local Hawaiian charities that can get real help to people who most need it right now. It's a list made by native Hawaiians with confirmed charities on the top tabs.

[reticent-fate]

part 11/26ish

anyone remember those scales with the springs in 'em? all i ever see these days are digital scales but those things made the best noises. i think i've seen some kitchen scales that still use spring mechanisms, but it's been a while.

technology is weird.

from the beginning

[youremyonlyhope]

Hey YouTube. Just because I love to crochet, does not mean I want constant Woobles ads.

[mariyekos]

Important research going on for my current fic:

Actually wait. Wait.

IT'S HARD TO TELL IN THIS SCREENSHOT BUT V PUSHED THE DOOR IN TO GET IN. MORRISON ALSO LOOKS LIKE HE'S ABOUT TO PUSH THE DOORS IN BEFORE THE SCREEN FADES TO BLACK. THEY GO BOTH WAYS. I'M VINDICATED IN THINKING THEY OPENED IN TOO. OKAY SCENE REVISED TO HAVE THE DOORS SLAMMING IN INSTEAD.

[toytulini]

miniature crochet clown cloak experiment 1

pattern i more or less followed is here:

i made some alterations, mainly, the scale

[arklay]

🖊🖊🖊🖊 for diana ofc

a fun little fact about diana is that she wears her watch with the face on the inside of her wrist

while working for umbrella (well, undercover for the rival company, that is), diana's employment was never common knowledge to the public – because why would a pharmaceutical company need a herpetologist? instead, she simply held a position as a researcher at raccoon university, and would occasionally do lectures, but for the most part she would just take the cable car underground to the nest

when diana collaborated with the connections through h.c.f. in the early 2000s, they named one of the d-type bioweapons after her

diana saw a lot of her younger self in sherry when they first met due to the similarities in their situations with their parents, and the way she behaved around both herself and albert. despite her dislike of children, she couldn't help but feel for her and even came to enjoy when she would stay over on occasion (i'd love if my brain would let me finish the rewrite of their first meeting because i touch on all of this in there and diana's thought process ough)

[babycharmander]

(THE BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS!!)

Thinking about Bill’s appearance at the end of the book…

[ID: BIll when confronting the Axolotl. He is shown in white silhouette, hovering in space, hovering neutrally. Notably, he has a massive crack running through his body, splitting him into multiple pieces, some of which are coming apart. /end ID]

When confronting the Axolotl, Bill is broken. The Axolotl even notes this: "Shattered, broken, not yet dead."

(Which, side note, makes me think Bill might have been lying about having been "kicked out of Hell," if he didn't actually die in Stan's head.)

[ID: Three pictures of Bill in the Theraprism. The first one shows him holding his hand against the side of his head in a dazed expression, sitting in a chair in a white padded room between a wizard with a clock for a face and Saturn (taken directly from the painting Saturn Devouring His Son). The second is a camera recording of him wearing an orange jumpsuit and kneeling in a cell, surrounded by arts and crafts tools, holding a pair of scissors, and beaming his thoughts frantically into a book. The third shows a mugshot of him staring blankly into the camera, his own name written on coded text below him. In all three images, he has a glowing scar where the cracks were, and is in one piece. /end ID]

When he's shown in the Theraprism, we see a glowing, static-y scar where the cracks were. The scar crosses his entire body (and even crosses to the other side of his eye without affecting it!), but he's actually whole, keeping himself together.

But then...

[ID: Two pictures of Bill from the last pages of the book. In the first one he is facing forward and holding up one finger, his eye reddened, his entire form glitching, and his crack is notably worse than prior, cracking through his eye, multiple smaller pieces drifting away. In the second one he is staring blankly at the viewer, his arms hanging limply, his eye wide and blank, the crack worse than the previous image, with more pieces floating away. /end ID]

In the last few pages, we see the scar is gone and the cracks are back, and even more of him is breaking away, including parts of his eye. It's especially bad in the last image, with even more pieces of him breaking away.

Also noteworthy is that the static texture behind him seems to be the same as the blood sample the US government took from him in the 1940s. He's bleeding.

We know from context that these images are meant to be taken somewhat chronologically. After dying (or nearly dying), Bill seeks out the Axolotl, who sends him to the Theraprism. While there, he writes the journal that he's beaming to us. The staff at the Theraprism catch onto this, and allow him to write out the last few pages, meaning those last few pages are chronologically the last of Bill we see.

This means that, after the events of the show, Bill was shattered... and then, upon entering the Theraprism, started to heal, his body coming together and scars forming... but at some point afterward, he started breaking apart again.

I'd made a post previously about Bill's development, how he views himself as a monster after the Euclidian Disaster, and how he continues to act monstrous afterward (and winds up agonizingly lonely as a result). I didn't really touch on this in the post, but I feel like after inadvertently destroying his home dimension...

Bill never left the denial phase of grief.

I could be wrong on this, but I get the feeling that part of his reason for acting monstrous toward just about everybody is because he sees himself as a monster, because "this is just how I am" is easier to accept than "I really really screwed up."

Bringing this back to his shattering... It's interesting to me that after entering the Theraprism, his body is scarring, which means it is healing. But then, at the end, as he's signing off the book, he's shattered again, and looking even worse than he did when talking to the Axolotl. When talking this over with a friend, they pointed out something that struck me:

Bill does not want to heal.

Healing means having to actually think through what happened. It means having to confront his past, confront destroying his home dimension, confront the harm he caused to others, confront the fact that he did not have to be this way.

And he refuses to do that.

He refuses to heal.

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ I Like It Long

➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war

➳ Word count: 1.4k

➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling

➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)

My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn

You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.

“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.

You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.

“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.

She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.

“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.

“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”

“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”

“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”

“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”

“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”

“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.

Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.

“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin’ wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”

“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.

Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.

It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.

❥-》》—————➣

“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.

“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.

The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.

“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.

You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.

You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.

“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”

His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.

And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.

“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.

Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.

You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.

He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.

“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.

You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.

You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.

“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.

“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”

The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[galadrieljones]

It speaks volumes when Lavellan calls Solas a "terrible liar" in the Cobbled Swan. Rook is, of course, confused by this. "He's the god of lies," she says. But Lavellan clarifies, because that's not what she means. She means that he can't tell "lies of the heart." That is why he had to turn her away, because he actually could not deceive her.

Varric, very early in the game, also refers to Solas as "sentimental." He says to Rook, "He could burn the world down, and the thing that would make him cry is a single flower with blackened petals."

There's something very interesting about the elven god of lies and deceit, who unwillingly wears his heart on his sleeve, essentially creating a new version of the world in which all sources of raw, magical *emotion* that, according to him, used to imbue it with so much life and beauty have been compartmentalized from the more brutish, harsh aspects of the physical world. Because he, himself, has had to do this very thing to his own heart. He's "split." A very cool archetype. When he tells the Inquisitor to "harden her heart to a cutting edge" in Inquisition, he is projecting. Solas has built a "veil" within himself, to protect his more stern, militaristic identity as The Dread Wolf from the effusive, soft, and intelligent man that is Solas. It's the only way he can get anything done. Perhaps we should more aptly call him the god of stoicism and compartmentalization.

It's also interesting how well characters like Varric seem to know Solas, because it communicates that Solas did open up to the people of the Inquisition, during which time he "played the role" of quiet, unassuming Fade mage. Perhaps this wasn't a role at all, however, and perhaps this is why he is failing so spectacularly now. Who he really is is just this man who fell in love and made friends and found a home within a community where he did not have to cut off his emotions in order to lead. This was the "breach" in his plans, so to speak. It tore his world apart.

The whole story of Veilguard actually starts because Varric knows he can appeal to Solas's emotions and that this has a high chance of working to some degree. It's important to remember that while Varric didn't change Solas's mind at the ritual site, he was able to keep Solas talking long enough for Rook to sabotage his plans. Solas entertains Varric's pleas, because, sort of as Rook guesses with Lavellan at the Cobbled Swan, in some ways, Solas wants to be stopped. He wants someone to pull the reins on him because he is too prideful to stop himself.

Thinking back to Trespasser, I remember we all sort of knew this right away just in reading his body language. I remember someone making a whole post about it, and how he will not allow her to get too close to him. When she approaches, he takes a very measured step back. And later, as he takes the anchor, a task which requires him to take her hand, we see exactly why this is. He breaks down, calls her his "love," and kisses her. He is so stern and so measured and in "control," but then, all it takes is a single touch from the woman to whom he showed a glimpse of his true heart, his true self, to bring him to his knees.

The Veil as a narrative manifestation for how Solas tends to seal his own raw emotions away from others in order to function as the revolutionary general he had to be for centuries is a very beautiful construct to me.

[leverage-ot3]

sophie and eliot are like WHERE THE FUCK ARE ALL THEIR PARENTS DEAR GOD (not you joyce you're doing great sweetie) (hopper can stay he's trying his best) (eliot is halfheartedly restrained from taking ted out behind the shed for a good ass beating)

hardison is delighted to influence the next gen of tech geeks

parker and el have some weird dynamic. they are both bad with social cues etc (autism swag + traumatic childhoods let's gooo). she makes el copies of her Human Interaction Flowchart Cards and el kind of has a crush on her

eliot makes el waffles from scratch because she deserves better than that procesed crap and you guys know it (parker and hardison do know it, they just think it's funny to rile him up). parker makes him let her have sprinkles on them (homemade)

max side-eyes every interaction between parker, eliot and hardison. it makes hardison sweat. why is a 14-year-old girl making him feel called out??? (parker thinks it's hilarious. she feed's max's chaos 100%) (she is really just gauging if three-person relationships can work because she knows her feelings for el are more than platonic and she still loves lucas)

nate and hopper butting heads to awkward stilted conversations pipeline

will sees hardison and eliot holding hands and feels warm. mike's brain short-circuts and he has a crisis in private

not sure where in canon this would take place. timeline shenanigains would have to ensue to make the st crew exist current day but yeah I'm 100% about this

I think eliot and the rest of the crew deserve to curb-stomp brenner's head and kick the rest of the scientists into the next decade. for fun.

can't decide whether the in-the-know adults start an international team. probably not- they want the lab to burn and then live their lives in peace with their children safe. their children, on the other hand, want crime lessons starting last week

nancy thinks parker is weird but appreciates the girlboss. sophie talks haircare with steve (he unironically takes tips and fuck you guys for laughing my hair is my signature).

stay with me guys, but a leverage stranger things crossover, where the leverage crew is called to investigate Hawkins Labs. I have no further information at this time, but consider it.