#he would be so gentle with you okay

[meowkunas]

pairing: wriothesley x reader

summary: you really want to spend time with wriothesley right now.

word count: 1.1k+

warnings/tags: 18+, nsfw content (under the cut), umm praise from wriothesley??, kind of shy/insecure reader, fingering, fem/female bodied! reader, he calls you sweetheart and baby, i was gonna let him use his cuffs and then i forgot so he's extra gentle instead

a/n: i need him.

Every time you visit Wriothesley in his office, he knows it's because you're needy. You don't make the trip all the way there for no reason.

"I just missed you." You'll say, leaning against the table with a pout. It's the way you're avoiding eye contact with him and staring your shoes that gives you away. Not to mention the fact that you're standing right in front of his seat and forcing him to look at you instead of the paperwork he has on his desk.

He resists the urge to laugh. With a slow and precise movement, he leans forward so that he's meeting your gaze again. "Yeah? You just wanted to spend time with me?"

"Mhm." You feign innocence. Archons, you're even blushing.

"Still too nervous to use your words, huh?"

He watches as your shoulders tense. Guilt is written all over your features. He watches as you take a deep breath in to try to calm yourself, meeting his eyes with a flash of confidence this time. There's a rigidness in your form still though, and your mouth opens to say something. But he doesn't let you.

His hands clasp around your thighs, pushing them open so he can move forward on his seat to put himself between your legs. Before you can continue your sentence, he kisses you.

He knows you're about to apologise for something inane, like bothering him when he's clearly so busy, but he wants to remind you that he'll always make time for you. This isn't annoying for him. And it never will be. Besides, it's not like he can focus on anything while you're here.

It's a gentle kiss, and he lets himself part from you just a little before he's speaking again.

"Shh. I'll take care of you, okay?"

It's so quiet that you can hear how loud your breathing is. It's long, languid breaths at first, even as your heartbeat thuds quickly in your chest.

He's barely even touched you, and you still feel your breath hitch as he traces his fingers over your clothed pussy. You don't say anything, just letting his hands explore you and letting him squeeze and caress without complaint. He'll never tell you, but he likes holding you like this; likes knowing you're comfortable enough to let him just touch wherever. His hands never wander above your waist, and his motions slow as he tries to figure out what you're after today.

In exchange, you tentatively run your fingers through his hair. Once. Twice. And it takes you a couple seconds to realise that he's still just tracing his fingers over your thighs because he's waiting for you to ask for what you want. A small sound of frustration leaves your lips. This doesn't need to be this hard. But the soft intimacy of his hands touching you seems to add a knot in your throat. So you do the next best thing. You nudge his hand to where you actually want him to touch.

"There." A sigh of contentment leaves his lips. "That wasn't so hard, right?" And he still has the audacity to look up to you with a cheeky grin that sends your heart racing.

His fingers are gentle — pushing inside you and feeling, before they become searching, and all you can feel is a pleasure running up your legs and curling in your stomach. A breathy huff leaves your lips and that has him properly chuckling. You can't really help it if your hips jerk upwards to meet his touch a little better.

But he stills you easily.

He stands up, curving his arm around your waist and pulling you further to the edge of the table so you can't escape the way his fingers curve inside you.

"Wrio—" You moan against his ear, not entirely sure what you're asking for or what you're wanting, but wanting something nonetheless. He's quicker at thinking of it than your pleasured-muddled mind. His lips connect with yours again and you're barely able to kiss him back properly. It's all open mouthed, and a little sloppy. A warmth pulses through you as he traces his lips across your jaw forgivingly, down the side of your neck, nibbling lightly all the way. An uncontrolled whine from your throat has him huffing a laugh against your skin.

"Like this?" He mumbles, brushing his lips against your collarbones while his fingers push on a spot that has you moaning again.

A panic runs through your veins when you hear knocking at the door, and you put your hands on his shoulders, ready to stop him and scurry away. Except he's already murmuring out a reassurance against your neck before you can try.

"Shh, sweetheart. It would be a shame to end this now." He whispers casually. "They can wait." And really, with that purr in his voice, he could get you to do anything.

You let out a strained whine, trying to be quiet as he praises you, marking you with soft kisses across what bare skin he can get his mouth on. It's so easy for him to make you cum like this. And you do, with a sigh and with your eyes closed, as the knocking echoes through his office once more.

He's patient with you, tucking your shirt back over your shoulder where he pulled it down and you hadn't even noticed. His hand moves from your waist to your hair, tussling it. All while he's whispering sweet words to you.

"You okay? That was so good, baby. You were so good for telling me what you wanted, okay?"

You're barely listening, still trying to come down from the pleasure and trusting him to let him tidy up your frazzled form. Once he's finished, he kisses your forehead, sending a spark through your body. It's his way of giving you a small confidence booster as he leaves your side and walks around his desk and calling for whoever was knocking to come in. By then, he's already moved you to the more comfortable position of his chair.

Wriothesley greets whoever is behind the door with a twinkle in his eye, barely looking at whoever is speaking because he keeps taking glances at you. You're still perched all pretty on his chair, the perfect picture of attentiveness as though he didn't just finger you a few moments before. It's the small, impatient wriggle that you do on his chair that gets his full attention again. There's a look in your eyes and he knows he's not finished with you. Not yet.

He'll have to continue what he's started once this conversation is done. He did promise to take care of you after all.

[vaguely-concerned]

having seen at least the rough outlines of all the romances now I have to say that I think emmrich's is probably objectively the best in terms of coherence and completeness of story arc (with the understanding that ultimately the 'best' romance is whichever one makes YOUR heart sing anyway so objectivity is a silly thing to claim that way, it just felt like it's the arc with the most well-paced focused content and the least dangling threads)... but lucanis' is my favourite haha. just. the whole kneeling before your beloved full of reverence but without any of the distance that usually implies??? his complete undramatic certainty and calm in every scene with rook after this, having spent the whole game caught between fear and longing???? mr. lives in a pantry but it says nothing about my psyche don't worry about it it's purely for tactical reasons that I keep myself contained in a small dark room not entirely unlike a cell, love among the parsnips -- finally coming to rook in their room and it's so comfortable and comforting???? after all the times rook supports and comforts him through the game he's finally able to return the same to them when they need it while being so calm and steady and it's so fucking sweet and feels so effortless and with no price attached?????? he basically assigns himself the role of your bodyguard and he WILL stab a god over it??????????????? the turn to protector (which was in his heart all along longing to get out and find a place) of it all????? he sounds like he's found himself unexpectedly stumbling into such a soul-lightening state of revelatory existential relief, full on 'you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves' mary oliver style, and he goes and he shares that with rook and protectively envelops them in it when they're hurting??????????????????????????? hello for the maker's sake hello can anyone hear me?????

[tittyinfinity]

I just remembered that up until 5th grade, all of the sports teams I was in weren't separated by gender. I played basketball and baseball with boys. And we did just fine.

It wasn't until 6th grade when they segregated it by gender. It didn't make sense to me. I was now in softball instead of baseball, because "softball is for girls" and "baseball is for boys" (which confused me bc my dad was on an adult softball team).

Now, my brother's all-male team didn't win a single game. My all-girls team won every single one.

They presented the boys' team with this HUGE trophy, and if you wanted replicas of it, they were $30 each.

My team was presented with a very small trophy. Extras were $5.

That's when I decided gender-segregated sports were bullshit.

[noperopesaredope]

Me: Ooooo, I wonder what this "Mouthwashing" thing is that everyone's been obsessed with lately. I should check some of it out.

Me, 30 minutes later: I would kill myself for you, Anya.

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Dean Winchester of Supernatural fame is NOT reading parenting books he is putting on Cheaper By The Dozen, Daddy Daycare and Honey I Shrunk The Kids taking notes.

[moongothic]

Seen a few people too many discuss the concept of Dragodile Baby 2 and my hot take is that there's no way in hell Crocodile would ever detransition just to go through nine months of horrible dysphoria again, let alone go through pregnancy ever again (or allow Ivankov to even touch him, what if they died and weren't able to trans Croc's gender again afterwards? Hell naw, ain't worth the risk)

But this leaves an opportunity for a Funnier Option:

Dragon wants another baby? Sure, but it's his turn to carry it >:)

[halfbaked00q]

For the Bond goes to Q's night club and does bdsm badly [tags: bdsm, s/D AU, subspace]:

I sometimes indulge in reading the s/D alternate universe fics. I'm sure they are super problematic; subs sort of have to go into subspace regularly to be healty and yada yada. So all of this is, ya, know. Not how it works irl. Don't take sex-ed from fics kids, but here's a thing, yeah? Cause I like you sprinkling up my dash with wild little 00q ingredients, and so I baked some trashcan cake for you:

He's hanging from the cross in one of the private rooms. Q has just managed to clear everyone out and is now standing here studying Bond and his disconcertingly back-to-normal breathing pattern. He can look his fill for once; Bond's eyes are closed.

His mind is still buzzing from the confrontation with the other Dom. From the way his thoughts had screeched to a halt when he recognized exactly who was at the cross.

He's come to some rapid realizations, the major one being that Bond is, in fact, a sub. All those times he's donned that macho agent persona have somehow been an act.

It boils Q's blood to know that--

To know what exactly? It shouldn't change anything. 007 is one of MI6's most competent agents; his denomination doesn't change that. Of course not. It makes it more impressive, probably.

But as Q watches the tightly controled way Bond counts each breath, his eyes tightly shut, inches from subspace but unable to quite reach it, he can't help but burn.

Bond must have been so fucking desperate to seek it out like this. He shoudln't have had to. Q should have figured it out. He should have stepped in. Should have known.

There's always been something there. The way Bond--James, really--would sometimes look all washed out, eyes snapping to Q as soon as he entered the room no matter how tired he was. The way he'd buckle against orders, but then relent beautifully when Q laced his voice with command just so. The way Q hadn't been able to stop himself from watching him, even knowing--wrongly, it turns out--that they were incompatible.

Standing here, now, Q feels like he's been cored out by a lightning strike. His insides burn with the realization, with how possessive he feels, how much he needs to be the one taking care of him. To make this right.

All in due time, though. First he's going to take care of this mess. Then there will be time to take them somewhere more private (home). To give Bond care and safety and what he really needs. Q is going to make that happen even if he has to bend the whole of reality to his will, he knows this the way he knows he could take apart nations. He's going to get what he wants and there will be nothing standing in his way.

He takes a breath and centers himself. He can do this.

"James," he says, the name feeling oh-so-right on his lips, "Open your eyes for me."

HELLO. HI. HELLO.

and yea just to repeat what I said before- anon if bdsm aus are bad then I dont wanna be right dot meme. I love bdsm aus and like. cmon are they any more ""problematic"" so-called than, like, A/B/O, or like what ppl have turned Sentinel/Guide AUs into (like the ones where there's an invented society where guides are systematically oppressed dare I say, even, rather like trafficked or enslaved?) etc etc

but um 😳😳😳😳😳 the fact that u took the concept & made it a BDSM AU.... and Bond is a sub that no one knew is a sub, and the way it being BDSM adds an Edge to the "needs the relief of subspace but Can't so seeking like a brute-force override via an excess of pain"....... ough ough ough. i feel like im chewing on a live wire zzzzzzzzztttt. kisses on the moutb for you too mwa mwa ough ough woof

[evocatiio]

if chibnall was the one writing this season you lot would be talking VERY differently

[softquietsteadylove]

Hey Birdie ✨🖤

I hope you're doing well. If I wouldn't loose myself in other things I would camp here all day. Still need to read a truckload of your work, but...

I would like to ask you to write about Ajak just being a typical mother. Teasing some of her eternal children. And annoying the hell out of Thena and Phastos. And Kingo trying to steal the spotlight.

🖤✨Hugs and Love! ✨🖤

"Are you two going to dance at all?"

Phastos didn't even bother looking at her. "Why?"

Ajak put her hands on her hips, though. "Because we're celebrating. This isn't just any village party, Phastos, it's a wedding! Live a little!"

"No, thank you."

Ajak sighed; how did she manage to get half a team's worth of dour party poopers? She looked from Phastos to Thena, who was also lurking at their little table, away from the festivities as much as possible. "Thena."

"No."

"I haven't even asked anything," Ajak huffed, balling up her fists at the two stubborn mules of Eternals before her. She crossed her arms. "You said you would support their union."

"And I did." Did , as in past tense; as in, she got through their wedding without saying a word. That was the utmost of her duty.

Ajak looked out towards where the dancing and intermingling was happening at its peak. "Gilgamesh is having a great time."

Phastos did turn in his seat to look at his sister. She kept her face even, but perhaps he could see something that Ajak couldn't, given his sudden amusement. "Yeah, T, Gil's having fun."

Thena made a face on the verge of snarling at him. "Gilgamesh always has fun at festivities. He has a warm heart."

"Yeah," Phastos snorted vaguely in her direction, "really don't get how you two-hey!"

Ajak rolled her eyes as Thena, in all her years of wisdom and maturity as an Eternal, flicked the side of Phastos' glasses to make the arm snap him in the side of the head. "Children!"

"I didn't do anything!" Phastos protested, pointing blatantly at his pale sibling.

"Enough," Ajak declared, putting her hands on their table. "I want both of you to get up from this table, stop sulking, and go and talk to someone in that room."

The two shared a look.

"And not each other!" Ajak added, even pointing in the direction in which she had bid her two grown team members.

Phastos went first, at this point just to avoid Thena's temper. He wouldn't bother monopolizing Sersi's attention, not on her wedding day. Perhaps he would go and sit with Sprite in quiet misery. The two negatives may charge positively, in some ways.

Thena eyed Ajak as she fell in step with her. "What is it?"

"You don't look particularly happy," Ajak said more quietly. As much as she had begun with the intention of mothering her sour little Fighters into socializing, Thena required a more subtle approach.

"Must I?"

Ajak bobbed her head towards the direction of the bride and groom. "She is happy. Isn't that enough?"

"Is it?"

Ajak sighed. It was no secret how Thena's distaste for Ikaris was not mere pettiness. Something about her did not like something about him, deep down. Ajak of course, knew what it was, and how many layers - lifetimes - that dislike had taken to grip them so irrevocably.

"If Sersi is happy, then so be it," Thena conceded. She even managed a smile as they moved from one room of their current temple to the other.

Ajak raised an eyebrow at the Warrior's sudden attempt at pleasantries. But she waved as Gilgamesh, having seemed to sense the presence of the woman beside her, waved. "What did you promise him?"

Thena sighed through her nose. She was probably unhappy that Ajak had managed to guess even that much of her behaviour and its reasons. Her hand lowered from also waving to Gilgamesh. "Ikaris and Sersi are happy. And it is their choice to bind themselves in this way. I shall not offer protest."

But she had considered it. Which wouldn't surprise Ajak in the least; Thena wasn't the type to silence her opinion on Ikaris to save Sersi some comfort. If she disapproved of her sister's choice in betrothed, she would let her know about it.

"Gil likes weddings."

Ajak tried to keep her smile from spreading too wide. It would only send Thena into the depths of the night to avoid more scrutiny into her thoughts and feelings. But she couldn't resist. "You don't want to ruin anything for him."

"For them," Thena corrected, although it wasn't all that convincing, seeing how her smile grew as Gilgamesh cut through the crowd to approach them.

"There you are!" he greeted her (Thena) so brightly the candlelight paled in comparison.

"Indeed," Thena sufficed to say, although she let him bring a chalice of some form of liquid to her lips. She made a face. "What is that, Gilgamesh?"

"I dunno," he admitted freely, looking at it for himself, perhaps for the first time. "Sprite gave it to me."

Thena's expression changed just for an instant. Sprite was especially unhappy today of all days, and while the Warrior Eternal had her sympathies, she never was one to let pranks happen to the Strongest Eternal passively.

Gilgamesh blinked as Thena gently and softly slipped the cup from his hands with hers.

"Ask Kingo for one," she spoke to him just as gently, completely unlike her manner with anyone else. "A fresh one."

"Okay, you keep that one," he grinned, completely oblivious to why she had claimed his drink for herself when she did not enjoy the taste of any spirits. He waved to her again as he set about his new journey.

Thena smiled and waved until his back was turned. Then she dumped the liquid directly onto the floor and threw the chalice with such force that it crumpled at the side and tumbled into the wall fountain. "Little cretin is trying to sour his evening."

Gilgamesh could handle his drink, well over tenfold what even Kingo or Sprite could handle, let alone a human. But he could still feel hangovers.

Ajak had noted that when he did indeed suffer from a night of revelry after the fact, it was always Thena who had cool hands for his forehead and soft words and even water carried just for him.

"Go easy on her," Ajak whispered to her, and Thena did end her complaints about her teammate there. "You don't know what it's like."

"Hm."

Ajak eyed her daughter, taller than she, and wiser in some ways and far, far dumber in others. "To long for someone like that? To want to reach out and hold them freely, like they're all you would need in the world?"

Thena's eyes grew soft, tracing a figure who stood above most of the crowd, and far broader. "Indeed."

Ajak sighed; she needed a different approach.

"T, come on, there's dancing!"

"Not on your life," Thena shot back in Kingo's smiling face. The degree of her refusal spoke to their closeness.

Ajak was grateful Kingo had managed the closeness with Thena that he had. She didn't know how he had, or for what reason the two deeply different Eternals were able to match each other's energies, but she was thankful nonetheless.

"Aw, come on, you're a great dancer," Kingo attempted to sway his sister, obviously a few drinks in himself.

"And what do you know of my dancing?" Thena asked, finally humoured enough to laugh, even if it was a little sardonic sounding.

"I know you're always flippin' around and spinning and stuff," Kingo motioned with his hand. Maybe more than just a few drinks in. "And I've seen you let Gil pick you up by the waist and-"

Thena shoved Kingo to the side. With all the spirit in the air, not many noticed the way he flew with such force he blew clear through the nearest door, taking it off its hinges.

Thena needed to learn to restrain her strength when it came to her brothers.

But Gilgamesh appeared right behind, practically able to ignore having seen Kingo be thrown aside like kindling into a fire. "I got one! You're right, this one is better."

"Good," Thena smiled, watching him take a healthy gulp. "Easy."

Ajak didn't even bother to avert her eyes as the Warrior leaned forward to swipe a stray trail of liquor from the corner of the Strongest's lips. It seemed Gilgamesh was the only, if a massive - massive - hole in the Warrior's defenses.

"Thanks," he became sheepish. "Did you like that one? I can get you another."

"No need," she assured him cleanly, disregarding that the cup was nowhere to be found. "Kingo said there is dancing."

"Ah, well," Gilgamesh glanced over his shoulder and then back at them. "Probably not my thing."

"Why not?" Ajak asked before the subject could be dropped completely. This was an opportunity, or as the Warrior Eternal would put it, an opening.

The two looked at her but Gilgamesh in particular had no reason to be suspicious of it. "I'd probably just step on toes if I tried it. And I don't really wanna dance with anyone out there."

Ajak wheeled around on the Warrior Eternal, who borderline took up a fighting stance at her sudden movement. Ajak grinned, and Thena, one could say, almost looked flustered for it. "Thena?"

She glared down at Ajak, but her Prime was immune to her frost. "What?"

"Kingo did mention the dancing, and it seems like Gil wants to try it," Ajak held her hands out, sewing the seeds and now just waiting for them to blossom.

"Oh, uh, well," Gilgamesh was sweet enough to blush as he looked at Thena's hesitation. "You don't have to just for me."

But Thena looked all the more torn as he said it. She understood the Strongest Eternal, far better than any of the rest of their team. Ajak had conceded very early on into their mission that she would never hope to understand her own son the way Thena understood him.

"I don't really know how I'd do," he mumbled, looking back at it again. The more he looked at it, the more he looked like he wanted to try it. His eyes lingered on the couples turning in circles, swaying with their arms around each other. He looked back at Thena. "You're always graceful--you'd probably be good at it."

Ajak's eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline as the Warrior Eternal's skin began to show a little colour.

Thena cleared her throat, trying to avoid the scrutiny of the woman beside while also being honest with the man before her. "You wish to try it."

It was such a simple statement, and her blunt words often rubbed her fellow Eternals the wrong way. But Gilgamesh accepted her statement with a sigh; he did.

Thena cast her eyes to Ajak for only a second. And, even with her cheeks flushed, she offered Gilgamesh her hand. "I'll try it with you."

"Really?" he beamed, and Ajak watched the Warrior Eternal crumble before her very eyes.

"Yes," she laughed faintly. The usually cold and standoffish woman melted as Gilgamesh's hands moved over her. One found the slender curve of her waist while the other touched the bare arm exposed by her saree.

"Have fun!" Ajak called out to them loudly, and purely for her own amusement.

Thena gave her a glare that could give even Arishem himself pause, Ajak was quite certain. But in contrast, Gilgamesh gave her a blithe wave and a smile.

She watched as the two took their place. Thena was uncertain, obviously on edge as they began moving. But Gilgamesh had picked up more than he let on through watching them. He led his partner - battle and dance - through each of the motions, his hands moving hers as needed.

Gilgamesh was right, Thena was naturally graceful, and the more freely he moved, the more naturally she moved with him. As if every move he made was a question, and she followed naturally to answer, every time.

They were made for each other, Ajak mused as she drifted to the wall. With her most reluctant children taking part, she could rest easy. She had shed her happy tears, held Sersi's hand and wished her every happiness. She even told Ikaris to savour the love he could experience now.

Kingo and Phastos and Sprite were lending each other company, which was for the best. Druig was busy stuffing his face but Makkari was happily perched beside him, pilfering morsels as she liked, although Druig did happily feed her a few sweets out of the kindness of his heart.

She could not have asked for a better night, feeling quite mother of the bride (and groom, in some ways).

The current dance concluded and a new one started just as quickly. Ajak watched Gil trail his hands down Thena's arms as he walked over to her, rather, to the fountain next to her. She grinned, "having fun?"

"Yeah, actually," he chuckled, dipping a cup into the water, "Thena's a little thirsty, I think. She seems kinda flushed."

Ajak held back a chortle. "How kind of you."

Gil reached into the water, picking out the cup Thena had thrown with all her might. "Huh, this looks familiar."

Ajak waited, but he never did say anything more about it, dropping it back into the water in favor of retrieving a drink for his precious Warrior Eternal. "Gil!"

He half turned, already eager to make his way back to her.

Ajak shrugged, "you could have just asked her. She would have said yes."

The Strongest Eternal blushed prominently. "Ajak!"

But the Eternal Prime held up her hands, resigned to stop spying on her children so they might actually do some real bonding. "I'm just saying! If you want me to interfere that's fine, but you don't need my help. Not with Thena, at least."

Gilgamesh grumbled, rolling his eyes at her motherly meddling. And yet, despite knowing her scrutiny, he bounded over to Thena, even holding the cup delicately and tipping it up to her lips for her. His free hand felt bold enough to tuck her hair back for her.

Ajak did avert her eyes, this time. That was for them to share, not for her to observe. Whatever may happen with her children from this point on would be on them. Although she did have to admit, she did hope she might get to experience two Eternal weddings in this one lifetime.

[the-insouciant-scientist]

what are hyakinthos's thoughts on the boatman and the slow boat in general?

Ooh, taking a quick sidestep from the rest of the ask game asks to answer this real quick! Short answer: a little complicated but generally friendly! Long answer: Gotta give some backstory first, bear with me. I have been thinking so much about belief systems vs established canon. Canon says that every human who dies regardless of belief (there may be nuance I'm forgetting but I'm in full speed infodump mode rn so that's a problem for future me) goes to the Far Shore. I say that's... kinda bleak? Also I'm just not a fan of stories where there is only One Real Belief and the rest are played off as silly distraction or whatever, but I digress.

A lot of his everything is based around the idea that both belief and proper death/burial care are important to get people to the afterlife they're meant to be in. Ritual makes all the difference between going to the Far Shore vs the Fields of Asphodel, for example.

His Boatman is Charon, or at least accepts the name. Hyakinthos has a working relationship with him and has probably taken up the oars at least a few times, especially for people who need the extra care in getting to where they need to be.

There's respect there, but there's also a certain... I'm not sure I have the words for it. The idea that death in the Neath is uncertain in so many ways (whether it'll stick that time, whether the person will make it to their afterlife or if they'll slip between the cracks and end up in the wrong place, etc) can be... discomfiting, to him. So while he does hold the boatman in high regard, there's always some little uncertainty there.

(Every so often, by their standards at least, Hyakinthos will bring him a very old obol. The Boatman will always refuse it. This is a ritual of its own. They'll sit for a while and talk anyways, and then part ways afterwards a little lighter.)

[gifti3]

What if Asmo got gum stuck in his hair, like really in there and somewhere he cant see easily

But MC helps him get it out and they manage to without damaging or cutting his hair

[tetzoro]

Aiimmmssss,

We both know Zoro holds a lot of guilt on his shoulders for a variety of things, how do you help him through it? 👀

just rip my heart from my chest next time, it’ll hurt less /j .. ily ෆ

often times, the words of others does not ease the immense weight of guilt that rests on our shoulders. they can help — a temporary fix, a small bandaid over a wound in desperate need of stitches.

but what zoro needs is deeper. he needs someone to keep him company as he tries to stitch himself up with a slightly shaky hand. thread by thread, mending himself in the way he’s always known, trying to erase the shame he feels for his failures — the ones that taunt him every time he closes his eye for too long.

i’d like to think that my presence would give him a little reassurance. i’d help him whisk away all of the impure thoughts that threaten him, chasing them far, far away. there’s not much i could really say to make him feel better, but knowing that i’m there and i love him for every single piece of him, helps soothe his mind a bit.

so his hand becomes steadier, the threading becomes quicker, and the wound begins to heal.

[zeb-z]

Bad has so many reasons to be cautious, even paranoid, as anyone else on the island. From Federation nonsense to Dapper being kidnapped to the whole purgatory nonsense to whatever fuckass suit of armor “old friend” was setting up cameras in his house. But it compounds on his regular overly aware paranoid self to this state of hyper-paranoia. And as a demon who can and usually will lie, cheat, steal, and use sneaky underhanded tactics, he expects the craziest extent because he thinks of it, realizes it’s possible, and would use it himself. We saw this very obviously in purgatory - when he thought greens desperate last ditch effort to balance the scale was a super planned out tactic to tip the scale, so he did it first, all the hardcore base hunting, the spawn killing, there’s a reason every other tactic he used usually followed a main channel qsmp post with updated rules - all usually things he was surprised no one else thought of. But then this also piles onto the fact that he has to have things go his way, all the time, and that he’s argumentative as all get out, which led to the debate between him and Bagi yknow. Especially because he’s not just doing it for the sake of being right, he doesn’t think he’s paranoid, but that he’s exercising the right amount of caution.

So like. Listen dude. Yeah he’s got reasons to be paranoid. But his thought process around building vaults for separate cookie caches like they locked up the risus pills, only to scrap it because it’s not perfectly impenetrable, is extreme. His character has hardly been a leading example in someone who has reasonable reactions to things. And even when there isn’t his own children’s livelihoods potentially on the line, he has a need for control, and the most control he has is if he keeps the cookies in his inventory at all times. If he makes himself the sole point in which the others can get ones in a case of emergency, then he can control the variables. The problem is he’s unreliable about himself when he’s at his most rational and healthiest, and he’s far worse with the current memory and health issues he’s been mostly unaware of.

I dunno it’s like. There is never going to be a purely impenetrable base. And it’s not just a case of “Bagi just hasn’t lived through __ yet!”. Bad’s own logic about keeping the cookies on him at all times is flawed under his own logic, because Bagi is right - if someone has enough drive to break into separate secured cookie caches purely for the downfall of eggs, they more than certainly have enough drive to find a way to kill Bad and just take them from his inventory, or to just kill the eggs themselves. All it truly does is give Bad a sense of control, and soothe his paranoia.

[thebirdandhersong]

Okay y'all it is over it is done the conversation has been had he knows I love him we are still friends I have cried my eyes out properly I have laughed again my heart will keep on hurting for a while but it is FINISHED

[wildsaltair]

UNMATCHED