#how long does it take for them to kick in

[venomwrites]

Caitvi having a double date with Timebomb

“The fuck, Ekko?! You painted each other?!”

It’s a surprise when Vi finally staggers back from Piltover’s polished halls. She sure as fuck isn’t supposed to. It’s not part of the plan. Of course Vi doesn’t know there’s a plan. She staggers down all the same. Instead of the broken, screaming woman sliding off the ledge she is the Vi that has appeared throughout Ekko’s life. Brash and loud and a pain in the ass. But she’s alive in this world and that fucking means something. He’s not sure what in the cosmic sense. But when she kicks open the door, he’s pretty sure right now it means she’s about to kick his ass. 

“That’s a weird way to say hello,” he spits back. 

“You painted my sister!” She accuses. 

He’s fucking tired. Sleep is never enough, everything feels sluggish. He doesn’t know if it’s grief or if he managed to fix time and break himself in the process. Ekko’s used to building things from ruins. But it takes time. Right now it’s just frustrating as hell. He’s seen what the world can be, he’s got something to strive for. But that goal feels like when he was a kid and he’d look up at the tall buildings. He can strive for it all he fucking wants. There’s a good chance he’s never going to get it. He’s always cared about possibilities. Even if the odds are against him, there’s still a chance. Now though he knows what is out there. What’s out there and what’s missing here. That is the bitterest pill to swallow for some fucked up reason. 

Also his earlobes hurt. 

“You’re not here about the paint,” he says. 

“Yeah I am,” Vi snaps, “what the fuck? She’s a kid!”

Ekko grinds his teeth. He does not want to talk about this. He doesn’t want to deal with Vi’s protective bullshit. Not when he’s spent all this time listening to Jinx talk about how Vi needs to be up there. Ekko half wanted a sibling most of his life, but the way the pair of them are with each other makes him glad he never had one. 

“No, Vi, she’s not!” He erupts finally, “none of us are! When are you gonna see that?!”

Vi stands still. She’s pissed but Ekko knows she needs to hear it. Someone has to tell her. Tell her in a way that gets through her thick skull so they can all start to heal. He’s not an idiot, he knows how Jinx is without her sister. Both of their plans are stupid. They always have been. That’s why one winds up in jail and one winds up in hell. And then they just fucking switch places, cry about it and switch again. Ekko is tired of listening to stupid ideas. 

Vi is suddenly in his face. Still with that miserable look on her eyes. She reaches out slowly and bats away his hand when he tries to stop her. She pinches the corner of his ear between her thumb and her forefinger. Gently but it’s enough to make him hiss. 

“Geez Ekko, this is infected,” she says. Ekko wants to yell at her, “you do this yourself?”

“No.”

“Seriously? Your ear?” She peers around his head, “both of them? When did you two have the time?”

“I don’t know, how long does it take you to fuck your girlfriend?” He questions. 

Vi glares but doesn’t drop his ear. She shoves her hands into her pockets and pulls out a little bottle. The clear gel she swipes around the fresh earrings make his ears sting but it’s also nice and cool. She huffs again and turns to do the other one. 

“I was in prison and managed to keep mine not infected,” she mutters. 

“Yeah? How’d you manage that?”

“Salt packs,” she says. 

She hands him the bottle. Some nice Piltie thing filled with the clear gel. Ekko wants to smack her hand away but he recognizes the peace offering for what it is. It feels like he’s back in the peaceful version of the world for a moment. Where the divides between the cities aren’t that great. He realizes abruptly that in this world Vi has actually managed to bring some of that here. She crossed that divide without even thinking. Right out of prison, back when they were all too stupid to see what was going on. 

Ekko knows it’s because she didn’t do it alone. 

“How’s the Piltie?” He asks.

“Better,” Vi says evasively. Ekko rolls his eyes, “I didn’t come here to talk abut her!” He just keeps staring at Vi, “I don’t know!” Vi says throwing up her hands. She drags her hand through her hair. Her bad arm moves seamlessly. Another Piltover souvenir, “she’s talking about giving up her council seat. She’s barely eating. All those fucking fancy Piltie doctors do is try to get her to talk. She doesn’t like talking about her feelings.”

Ekko sighs.

This is part of being a leader. 

“Sounds like she needs you,” he says cutting through Vi’s bullshit, “up there.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me,” Vi says.

“So don’t talk,” Ekko suggests, “seriously she kicked you out and your solution was to come all the way down here? Go back there and—“ he hesitates a moment, “just sit with her until she does.”

Vi sighs, shoves her hands into her pockets and rocks back on her heels. For a moment Ekko feels like a kid caught doing something wrong. Even though he hasn’t and Vi’s already yelled at him for what she suspects. It’s not about the paint or the earrings. It’s about Jinx. Jinx let him touch her when she wouldn’t let Vi touch her. Ekko knows Vi hates that. He feels weird about it when he thinks on it too long. Not because of Vi—or not only because of Vi. It’s all their history together. But he said what happened, what he saw. And Jinx believed him way more readily than he would have believed her. It’s weird and knotted and not something he wants to think about too hard. 

“Sit with her until she does,” Vi repeats. 

“Yeah,” he says, “it’s fair—“

There’s a snap around his wrist. 

Piltie cuffs. 

The other locks around Vi’s own wrist.

“The fuck?”

“Sorry, little man,” Vi says, the nickname slipping out, “I’m not going back alone.”

“So you handcuff me?!”

“Handcuff us,” she says, dangling her wrist up, “maybe one day we can walk together normally,” Ekko reaches for his key but only hits the skin that shows above his pants, “next time maybe get a full shirt.”

“Shut up!”

Vi drags him up and away. Ekko plans his escape. He hates walking. Hates walking the Lanes most of all. It reminds him of his failures and the past. When he flies he can leave it all down here. Up there none of it can catch him. Now he drags through the muck. What catches him off guard is the newness he sees popping up. New cans of paint, fresh tarps, resources. Vi catches his stunned gaze and offers a grin as they make their way past. Ekko nearly falls flat on his face trying to get a good look. He wants to drink it all in. But Vi is determined. She drags him up past where the buildings nicer and into a private box. 

“We should have taken my board,” he grumbles as it pulls them higher. 

“I wasn’t letting you anywhere near that thing.” 

He scoffs. 

Hesitates. 

He doesn’t know if he wants to know. Maybe that makes him weak. But what’s the right way to ask what version of someone is awake? It doesn’t really matter. After what he did Jinx and Powder both probably want him dead. He messed up the plan. Instead of flying her out of here like he was supposed to he was unconscious. She sailed out of that air duct with no-one to catch her. He let her down again. He could have gone with her, maybe he should have. But all he could think when he saw her being carted off by fancy doctors with Vi’s hand tight in hers was that maybe she too had a chance at getting away. He’d messed up her trust enough. Something must show in his face. 

“She started talking to Isha two nights ago,” Vi says. 

“Two nights?!” He demands. 

“I’ve been trying to find you!” Vi snaps, holding up her wrist again.

“Why didn’t you start with that?!” He demands. She shrugs and rubs the back of her neck, “what’s she saying?” 

“She’s telling her about you,” Vi says. 

She drags him through the shiny halls of a building flooded with sunlight. He knew Vi wouldn’t let her be thrown into a cell. There are guards everywhere though. But they are guards who nod at Vi even through the disgust on their face. She brings him to a door and undoes the cuff. She hesitates a moment before knocking and opening it up. Ekko hesitates at the sound of whispering. What if he makes this worse again?

“Jinx? It’s Vi. I brought someone to see you,” the whispering stops. 

Vi reaches for him but he bats her hand away and forces himself forward. 

Jinx is crouched in the far corner. Her entire head is cased in white bandages. They match her pale skin and the white garment they’ve put her in. The room is completely devoid of color. The only color is her purple eyes. They regard him from underneath the bandages, surrounded by bruises. She blinks twice and looks to her side like she’s looking for someone. But then like she always does, her eyes flick over and focus on him. Vi inhales sharply when she gets to her feet and makes her way over. 

“I thought you died,” she says simply. It’s hard to swallow, “you were supposed to be there.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says. Her fingers tap his hand and then snatch back. Unsure. He now knows more about the war in her head, but that doesn’t make it any easier, “I broke time.”

“How?”

“Turned it back longer than four seconds,” he says. Her lip curls, “A lot longer.”

“So you made it a bomb,” she says, “did it work?”

“We’re here aren’t we?” 

She freezes and looks around. He feels behind him in Vi’s general directly and pushes. His hand hits some part of her that stands hard and unyielding and needs to get the fuck out. Before Ekko can look he feels her withdraw. Then it’s just him and Jinx in the white room. Her hand goes out and back and out in something that almost looks like she’s swinging her arm. Then it streaks out and latches onto his wrist. He turns his hand as she walks her fingers to his palm and clenches theirs together. Her lips tremble and she looks up at him. 

“It fell apart again,” she says, her voice steadier even as her lips tremble, “I fucked it up.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, gripping her shoulder. She tenses at the contact and but her eyes remain stubbornly focused on him, “I fucked it up too. I broke time.”

“It’s not a competition,” she huffs. 

“Good, because I’d win,” he says. Her eyes narrow, “I broke time,” he reminds her. 

“Seems fixed now,” she shoots back, “seems—slow,” she glances around the room, something annoyed flickering in her eyes, “I don’t like it in here.”

“Okay,” he says, “let’s get out of here.”

She shivers at the thought. Ekko hates that she’s been trapped in this room for even a moment. Though he recognizes this was the safest place for her, it feels wrong. He doesn’t know what the line is though. Safe and tolerable seem to be on opposite sides of the spectrum for her. He doesn’t even know if he can take her out of here. Maybe they’ve both been locked in the room. Still, he resolves to try. He reaches for the door and tugs. Thankfully it opens. Sunlight spills forward from the massive windows. Jinx hesitates next to him. 

“I know it’s a lot,” he says, “lean on me.” 

She puts more of her weight on him and something further eases in his chest. They take the few steps out of the room together. Her other hand comes up and covers her forehead as she looks at the bright blue sky. He knows she wants to fly away but for now she just leans on him. Somehow that feels like enough. He sees a seam in the window and shoves it up with one hand. Only a trickle of a breeze comes through but she closes her eyes. The peace on her face doesn’t make him think of the other Powder for once. It makes him think of the cans of fresh paint in the Lanes. The spark of life surrounded by all the darkness. It’s just a spark, just a pair of tearful eyes on a bridge, but it is there. It’s all that matters. 

“Can we fly?” she asks. 

“We will,” he promises, “but not on an empty stomach.”

Her eyes shoot open and look hopefully at him. He has a feeling even with all the wealth she’s been refusing to eat. Now she looks hungry. It’s something. He looks around for anyone who could bring them food. Maybe he can hid her from Vi long enough to ask. He sees the half cracked door down the hall. Jinx tightens her fingers on him and leans more heavily. 

“Can you trust me this time?” He asks. 

She hesitates and then nods. He reaches up and eases some of the bandage down to cover her eyes. She leans fully on him but matches his steps as they hobble over to the room. Vi is sitting there with Caitlyn. Who also has bandages over her eyes. She’s sitting perfectly straight, her visible eye staring at her hands. Vi looks anguished next to her, but she is sitting there. Waiting. Ekko keeps Jinx on the other side of the door as he cracks it. Vi’s eyes take in the fingers clenched around his and she pushes herself up. 

“I need food,” he hisses. 

Vi looks at Caitlyn like she doesn’t know what to do. Ekko gets the distinct impression all three of them are in their own cells. She and Caitlyn seem to be waiting for someone to open theirs. For two people who keep breaking each other out of prison, they are fucking awful at it. He doesn’t have time for them to figure out which key hits the lock in this moment. Not with Jinx laying her head on his shoulder. 

“Hey, Piltie—“ he grinds his teeth. Her eye blinks like she’s struggling to hear him. Slowly her her starts to move. “Caitlyn,” he hisses. The blue eye meets his, “you want to help? I need food. For her.”

Caitlyn frowns and Vi lets out a ragged breath. Something that sounds like relief. Caitlyn looks around and reaches for something. Vi grabs the cup on the side of the bed. Caitlyn looks from her to the cup and blinks again before taking it. Their hands brush against each other and there’s a wetness in both of their eyes that Ekko would find gross under any circumstances. Caitlyn drinks and reaches out of Ekko’s view. There’s a hushed exchange and Vi appears with a tray laden with food. 

“Finally,” Jinx sighs and Ekko realizes she’s pulled up the bandage. His heart catches as he waits for her to look for one of her ghosts but she just reached out and takes something off the plate, “how’d you get fruit up here?”

No-one seems to know how to answer and Jinx looks between them. There’s something like annoyance on her face at their silence. 

“Kiramman’s can get anything,” he says, “how hard did you hit your head?” He teases. Jinx rolls her eyes and immediately leans more against him, “shit—“

“Bring her here,” Caitlyn says and the authority in her raspy voice has him moving before he remember what a bad idea that is, “Vi—“

“I just need to sit,” she grouses. He guides her into the chair but she tangles their feet and somehow he winds up in the chair and she winds up in his lap. She slings and arm over his shoulders and drops her head onto his chest like that’s normal and looks at the pair of them, “how come you got to keep your hair?” She asks Caitlyn. 

“She didn’t crack her skull,” Vi blurts out. Jinx nuzzles closer to him. Ekko can feel the start of stubble on her skull where the bandages have rolled up, “she—“

“Lost my eye,” Caitlyn says finally. They both look at each other. The blanket moves and after a moment Vi slips her hand underneath. Just enough to keep their joined hands out of view, “my eye is gone,” Caitlyn says with a bit more firmness. 

Jinx sighs and gets more comfortable against him. 

“I wanted to steal a ship and fly away,” she complains. Vi’s throat works as Ekko’s heart jumps. But she’s not away. She’s here. Itching her stubble against his neck, “now you look like a pirate,” Vi covers her mouth with her hand. Caitlyn stares at her. Her mouth frowns and the eases, then almost smiles, “too many pirates,” she sighs, “I’m floating.”

Vi lurches forward and peers at her head. But she doesn’t let go of Caitlyn’s hand. Or maybe Caitlyn won’t let her. She and Ekko look at each other and she shakes her head. No sign of bleeding. Maybe she is just tired. It’s not like they have much leeway when it comes to not eating. Though Gods knew she tried to get out of it enough until he figured out how to make it a game she enjoyed. Now he feels her breathing start to even out and realizes she’s fallen asleep. He looks at Vi who seems painfully caught between being a big sister and a girlfriend—between all the roles that have been put on her. So Ekko chooses instead and gets his arm under Jinx’s knees. She doesn’t move when he straightens up. 

“Is there a normal room?” 

“Yeah,” Vi says. 

She gives Caitlyn’s hand a squeeze and pushes up. She leads him two doors in the opposite direction. It’s a small room but there’s clean sheets and a window. He nods and walks over to the window with Jinx in his arms, cracking it open. The fresh air makes her sigh in her dreams. Vi’s gaze is hot on his neck. He knows where her mind is, where his would be too if he didn’t know. If he hadn’t spent those days living his life in three second increments. Vi didn’t. But Vi stands there silently and doesn’t close the window. After another long moment she nods at him and leaves the room. 

When he goes to put her down he feels a tug at his hips.

Jinx has stuck her wrist into his belt. Ekko knows he could pull it out. He also knows what she is asking. It takes some maneuvering to get them onto the bed facing each other. But he’s contorted himself through worse. He gets them facing each other. His head high on the pillow, hers low but they fit. He doesn’t bother with the sheets as he pulls her into the confines of his jacket. She sighs and nudges forward more, rubbing her bandaged head under his chin. 

“Itchy,” she mumbles. 

He curves his hand up and rubs against the bandages along he skull. She sighs and buries herself even closer, working one of her legs between his. It’s new and familiar at the same time. She likes to be held like this so when she wakes up she can know he’s there without asking. Without wondering. It makes the ghosts go away. He’s never seen her sleep this deeply though. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles into his collarbone. He doesn’t know what she’s thanking him for. But he has a feeling it’s more than scratching her head, “stay?”

“Yeah,” he says, tightening his coat around them both. 

She hums and within moments is back asleep. Ekko wants to stay awake but the feel of her breath is hypnotic. Suddenly, it’s like he’s been awake since before he broke time. Like he doesn’t know how to be awake anymore. It’s hard to let go enough to sleep and not guard against the world. But Jinx keeps breathing steadily against his chest. Ekko feels his own breath catching her rhythm. He relaxes further into the beat between them. 

It’s always, always a dance. 

He never wants it to end. 

[therealmylesmorales]

Loser!Vi Headcannons pt 2

Y’all gave so much love, I feel like I had to reward you guys ☺️

Warnings: uhhh same as last time, I guess. I’m too lazy to check what it was

WC: 700

⭒ Vi is a chronic biter. You learned that pretty early in your relationship. And yet, you never know when it’s coming until it’s too late. She would act like she would be leaning in for a kiss…until she bit the closest part of your body; your cheeks, your arm, your ass

“OW— fuck Vi!”

”That didn’t hurt, you're being dramatic.”

⭒ Another cute but annoying thing Vi does is that she fake boxes you. Her fists will never come in contact with your face or body but she still finds it funny. She’ll even make sound effects while doing so. But the second you lightly punch her stomach to get her to stop, it’s the end of the world.

⭒ She cried like a baby when she got her nose pierced. You were with her and by how hard she clutched your hand, you would’ve thought she got shot. You made fun of her the entire time.

”Not only do you have a big ass back tattoo, you also have one on your face.”

“That’s DIFFERENT!”

⭒ Vi’s major changes every few months. She just loves doing new things and will get obsessed with it and unfortunately be bored with it in not too long after. However, she would probably get a degree in business so she could take over Vander’s bar once he decided to retire.

⭒ Sticking with the college theme for a second; you’re known around campus for being chill and somewhat friendly to others. Vi, on the other hand…people think she’s brash and her temper definitely doesn’t help. But people have noticed that when she’s around you, she’ll siphon off your energy and is a lot more pleasant to be around.

⭒ Vi likes kissing you more than actual sex. She’ll still never turn down the offer, but kissing you feels calming to her. After a day of classes or dealing with whatever, it is her favorite way to unwind.

⭒ Vi loves horror movies, and loves when you watch them with her (even if you hate them/are scared easily). Her favorite franchise is probably Friday the 13th but Ghostface is her favorite slasher. The only problem with her watching horror movies is her inability to easily fall asleep afterwards. Normally, it takes her five minutes to be knocked out.

”Cupcake, are you awake?”

”Vi, PLEASE go to sleep.”

⭒ Surprise to no one, she cuts her hair on her own. Every few weeks you’ll find her in the bathroom with scissors and a shaver in hand, trying her best to get her hair looking good. You help her with the back of her head and she appreciates you for that.

⭒ Vi is literally obsessed with you. Her entire camera roll is filled with pictures of you both or just you; pictures she took on dates or just candid ones. Her wallpaper is even one of you, a rare selfie you took and she cherished it as soon as you sent it. Vi even gave you a special ringtone and whenever you text or call her, she can’t help but kick her feet.

⭒ Like everyone, Vi has red flags. But her most noticeable one is that she’s hardheaded. She doesn’t like to listen, especially when she knows thinks she’s right. She will stand on business until she can’t…and when that happens, she’ll come back with her tail between her legs, hoping you’re not too mad at her.

“Hey…are you mad at me?”

”Did you learn your lesson?”

”I did. I’m sorry.”

A little something extra for my black!readers 🫶🏾

⭒ No matter how hard both you and Mel tried to teach her, she nor Jayce still understand Spades. Viktor got it down within thirty minutes, but those two were still clueless. So, you all decided on a more easier game, Uno!

Uno was banned that same night after you two almost broke up and she and Jayce almost got into a fist fight.

⭒ And someone said that Vi would take the fuchsia bonnet with the black headband, and that was totally the one I was talking about (cause I have the same one). She refused to give it back at that point so the only logical solution was to buy another.

[veitchiin]

Do you think Lucanis blames himself?

For what happened to Rook. Them disappearing into the fade, trying to retrieve the dagger from Ghilan'nain's body.

I mean, he failed in Weisshaupt. He admits to it. Had he only been a little bit more focused. Had he only a little bit more control over Spite. The kill was right there, he was so close he could already see her dead then and there.

But he failed. He failed and the opportunity was gone. Weisshaupt fell for nothing. He could not get payback for Minrathous, in Neve's stead. He could not thank Rook for their help in Treviso. The assassin missed his mark, how many more mistakes can the abomination be afforded before his utility is brought into question? How long until Rook no longer tolerates his presence? How long until his carelessness, his lack of control over Spite, truly harms the team?

But Rook was there. They did not blame him, they did not leave his side, they did not kick him out they did not hate him they did not push him away they did not get angry they did not. Abandon him.

They stayed by him, they supported him. It's thanks to them he could get to the bottom of his inner torment. Thanks to them he and Spite came to understand each other. Somewhat.

Thanks to them that he avenged himself and his family. Thanks to them Treviso was saved from the blighted dragon. Thanks to them Treviso will be able to survive the Antaam.

He owes Rook so much. They were by his side, they helped him and those he cared for. Without asking for anything in return but his presence, and his skills. He owes Rook so much. Rook understood and cared for him. Rook's presence helped him stay grounded. They felt warmer than others. More welcoming than others.

When did it happen? When did Lucanis start caring for Rook so much? They saved him from the Ossuary, and then from himself. They who gave themselves and their trust to him so easily, knowing he was made to kill. Knowing he was an abomination. And they did not pity him. Even after Weisshaupt, they knew he was strong enough and thanks to them he saw it too. And eventually he was strong enough to admit how much he cared. And then he swore not only to kill the gods, any and every god, for Rook but also, perhaps only to himself, to love them the way they had loved him, by protecting them and being by their side.

So then, why did he fail again.

He was the one who had the dagger. He was the one who pierced Ghilan'nain's flesh. Why did he not take the dagger out? Why was he not the one to retrieve it? Why did he not, somehow, warn Rook? He couldn't have known, but he should've. And now Rook is gone. In the fade, somewhere. Without him. If he were stuck in the fade, Rook wouldve found a way to him, to bring him back, or only to be by his side. He cannot. The others are trying, and perhaps he tries to help. But what good can that do? He was made to kill. That is all he does, all he is. And he failed. Ghilan'nain may lie dead but does this even matter? Weisshaupt did not feel like half the failure this does. After Weisshaupt Rook was there. Rook was there, he had not endangered Rook. He had not killed Rook.

But if he had succeeded at Weisshaupt... Would any of this had happened? Perhaps things would have gone differently, the dagger wouldn't have remained inside the evanuris' body? Perhaps someone else would've been trapped? Anyone else, anyone but Rook. Even himself. If the Maker would allow it, Lucanis would without a doubt take Rook's place, wherever they are. If they live.

Surely he doesn't believe they live? Surely he doesn't believe they'll return? Emmrich, Neve and Bellara all together are working tirelessly to retrieve them, does he believe they wouldn't have found Rook already if they were? Rook is gone. Their room is empty. The decorations they left behind have not moved, their wardrobe undisturbed, their absence violently evident.

Does he hope their clothing retained their scent? Does he hope that by sleeping in their room he'll awake in their arms? Does he hope that by brewing their favorite drink he could summon them back? Does he hope anything he could do or think of could make him forget what he lost? That he failed to keep them safe? That by doing exactly what he swore to do, what he was always meant to do, he killed Rook?

Oh, Lucanis. If only you hadn't gotten attached. If only you had kept your distance from them. If only you hadn't fallen in love. If only you hadn't failed back at Weisshaupt. If only they hadn't freed him. If they had left him to rot in his underwater prison, surely someone more competent would've taken his place, at the very least someone who would've actually kept Rook safe. Someone Rook deserved to have by their side. If only.

Now Rook is gone. They will never be a Dellamorte. They will never share a cup of coffee they hate with him, just to try and make him happy. They will never make a joke at an inappropriate time again, not a strongly worded comment or kind gesture. He will not get to take them on Treviso's waters, to see their eyes light up taking in the sight of his home that they helped save. Rook is gone.

If only you had been able to save them.

If only you hadn't failed.

If only.

Do you think Lucanis blames himself for what happened to Rook?

[demon-country]

#wiggles hands #i personally think that stolas had it wrong because even before blitzø started yelling #stolas thought blitzø didnt feel the same and immediately ditched as opposed to like?? giving him a fucking minute to process?? not cool??? #like yes the trauma response about being yelled at and setting boundaries and all that. thats fine #but Why stolas did you Immediately leave it wasnt even a rejection he just didnt Understand #give him a Fucking SECOND!!?? #which is smth blitzø also yells abt in full moon iirc! bc like DUH!!??? #and there IS power imbalance in the way stolas just tosses blitzø outside via teleportation. #it DOES imply he thinks little of blitzø In That Moment bc hes 'seeing his abuser' #but like... he would not teleport stella outside like that. even when he asserted his boundaries w her he NEVER did that shit #it WAS disrespectful to blitzø. it was. and the immediate dismissiveness the next morning obv didnt fuckin help #cuz blitzø immediately went on the defensive and like yeah he said horrible shit but FUCK DUDE he didnt instigate it! #like yeah stolas doesnt have to sit there and take it EXCEPT HES THE ONE WHO FUCKING INITIATED THE ISSUE? SO YES HE KIND OF DOES HAVE TO#HEAR BLITZØ OUT AND SIT THERE?? #puts my head in my hands. #and all the ppl talking abt ou well its stolas' house so he gets to portal blitzø out! #you are a fucking dick? you cant spring a huge relationship change on somebody and then run off and act the hurt party when they havent even #processed it yet! and then KICK THEM OUT when they understandably get ANGRY at you dismissing them? and HELLO. STOLAS DISMISSES BLITZØ.#HES NOT ONE OF YOUR SERVANT IMPS DUDE! HELLOOOO?????? #idk idk idk like stolas was definitely going through it but HOLY SHIT you guys cant be serious when you say it was equal on both sides #when theres a very obvious clear systemic power imbalance. like youre FUCKING WITH ME?? you cant be serious rn.

Wow. This... sure is a lot of extremely bad faith misinterpretations of those scenes. I'm going to address all of this step by step, I guess, because my dude, you are wildly off the mark on basically everything you accused Stolas of. So I hope you're ready, because this reply is going to be very long.

"#i personally think that stolas had it wrong because even before blitzø started yelling #stolas thought blitzø didnt feel the same and immediately ditched as opposed to like?? giving him a fucking minute to process?? not cool??? #like yes the trauma response about being yelled at and setting boundaries and all that. thats fine #but Why stolas did you Immediately leave it wasnt even a rejection he just didnt Understand #give him a Fucking SECOND!!?? #which is smth blitzø also yells abt in full moon iirc! bc like DUH!!???"

Yeah no, Stolas had every right to walk away, and was 100% justified in doing so. Maybe it wasn't entirely fair to Blitz, because on his end of things it looked totally different, but you already seem to understand what it looked like from Blitz's pov, so since we're talking about whether they equally fucked up or not, then I want you to step back from that and think about how it looked to Stolas, too.

Blitz did not respond to Stolas' confession with "hold the fuck on" or "what the fuck?" or "what do you mean?", nor did he do literally anything at all to suggest that he was confused or needed a moment to process what Stolas was saying. Blitz's immediate, snap reaction was to go "ohhh, okay you're fucking with me! This is an interesting roleplay, never done this one before but I can get into it. 'Ohhh, Stolas, I'll stay with you~! I love you sooo much~!'"

Perhaps you've never experienced this, but let me assure you that it is soul-crushingly awful to confess something important to you to someone you trust, only for them to completely write it off as a joke and/or make fun of you for it. It's extremely humiliating and feels like a deep betrayal, because you trusted them and were vulnerable with them, and in return all you got was mockery.

I've asked a number of real life actual people who have all, without fail, said that if that happened to them they'd end the conversation right there and walk away. Most of them, including me, said they'd leave just so they could go cry in private, and one said that they'd basically say "fuck you" and leave because they were pissed off. Stolas was the former. Take a moment to really, genuinely think about what your own reaction would be to having someone you love and trust make fun of you after you confess something important and vulnerable. It doesn't have to be a love confession, mine certainly wasn't, but do you honestly think you'd want to stick around after that?

So Stolas would have been justified in walking away just from that. He was very kind as he took his leave too and tried to bow out as gracefully as he could without causing a fuss, which is made all the more impressive because Blitz unintentionally triggered Stolas' trauma with the roleplay bit. Stolas has lived with Stella for 18 years at this point in the timeline, and part of how she abused him was humiliating him and mocking his feelings. He hides it decently well with Stella, because he's had decades of practice at this point, but we see in Ozzie's that being humiliated, especially in public, is a trauma landmine that Blitz tripped right onto. Yeah, he's going to leave, and it's not a fault that he does.

Moreover, you'll notice that Stolas doesn't kick Blitz out here or tell him to leave. He walks away further into the house, and yes he's probably expecting that Blitz will take it as an opportunity to bounce, but he does not tell him to go. Blitz could have waited as he took the moment he needed and thought things over, and then talked and asked whatever questions he needed to after Stolas came back. It was his bedroom and it was midnight, it's not like Stolas wasn't going to come back within the next couple of hours. Or Blitz could have left, thought things over, and come back. Instead, he followed after Stolas, which wasn't a great feeling for either of them, because Stolas was only barely staving off a breakdown and Blitz was getting hit in that abandonment trauma all over again, but Stolas walking off scared him so he acted on the impulse to not let Stolas get away. 

And he started off fine! Even though he was basically chasing Stolas, he wasn't angry or anything. He asked "wait, you were serious?! Hold on now, Stolas. What the fuck?" and Stolas did his best to answer even as he kept walking, rather than telling him to go away or kicking him out. His answer was poorly worded though and it set Blitz off, which is when we get to your next point.

#and there IS power imbalance in the way stolas just tosses blitzø outside via teleportation. #it DOES imply he thinks little of blitzø In That Moment bc hes 'seeing his abuser' #but like... he would not teleport stella outside like that. even when he asserted his boundaries w her he NEVER did that shit #it WAS disrespectful to blitzø. it was.

???? How on earth did you reach this conclusion?? Of course Stolas would never teleport Stella outside like that. That's not respect, that's fear. It took everything he had to stand up to Stella the way he did, which we know because he collapsed as soon as she was gone. He was terrified of her; he was backing away while she approached and knew she was about to hit him. He was fighting back, yes, but you can tell from her reaction that he almost never has in the past. It had nothing to do with respecting her, because his normal response seems to be either standing there silently taking the abuse or shrinking in on himself while trying to placate her.

As for what happened in the ballroom, Stolas was triggered for the second time in just a handful of minutes, this time by Blitz slamming open the door and yelling. It says absolutely nothing about how much Stolas does or does not respect him that these actions triggered a trauma response in Stolas. Trauma doesn't work like that. Anyone doing that to Stolas would have made him panic, because when you're experiencing a traumatic reaction, even if you're somewhere safe with someone you implicitly trust, your brain freaks the fuck out.

It was in no way disrespectful to kick Blitz out, it was just Stolas going into extreme Flight mode. Blitz wasn't letting him leave and at the end even ran towards him (to apologize, but Stolas had no way of knowing that and Blitz was already half out the portal before he started to say sorry and didn't even finish it. Also, you hear Stolas very faintly saying he's sorry before the portal closes), of course he's going to force Blitz out! He didn't want a fight with Blitz like he had with Stella, because he wasn't angry, he just wanted to be alone.

"and the immediate dismissiveness the next morning obv didnt fuckin help #cuz blitzø immediately went on the defensive and like yeah he said horrible shit but FUCK DUDE he didnt instigate it! #like yeah stolas doesnt have to sit there and take it EXCEPT HES THE ONE WHO FUCKING INITIATED THE ISSUE? SO YES HE KIND OF DOES HAVE TO#HEAR BLITZØ OUT AND SIT THERE??"

No, he really, really does not have to sit there and hear Blitz out. Stolas made it very clear in actual words that he did not want to see Blitz right then, because he was feeling too raw so soon after everything and Blitz was not giving him any space to breathe. And Blitz, once again, did not leave. He also, you'll notice, didn't force Blitz to leave, he just asked him to go, because this time he wasn't outright panicking. And even then, he kept giving Blitz chances to talk things out with him, showing that he wasn't dismissing Blitz.

Also, you're really telling me that you think a victim of domestic violence should be forced to stick around when someone is yelling at them? It doesn't matter if he "initiated things", that doesn't mean he's going to okay when someone starts grabbing and yelling at him. If Blitz was being calmer about it, and wasn't continually intentionally mocking Stolas and his feelings throughout that conversation (which, again, big trigger for Stolas, he's just hiding it better now because he was braced for it. Note that he's reacting a lot like he did when Stella was mocking him at the party) then I might agree with you. If Stolas had actually instigated the garden scene by telling Blitz to come over and then refused to listen while Blitz tried to explain, that'd be super fucked up. But Stolas didn't ask Blitz to come over, explicitly told him to leave because it hurt to much to talk to him right then, and Blitz was not being calm. Blitz was self-destructing and was being both clingy and aggressive, because he was scared of losing Stolas but was even more terrified of being vulnerable, and he habitually masks his fear with anger.

"#puts my head in my hands. #and all the ppl talking abt ou well its stolas' house so he gets to portal blitzø out! #you are a fucking dick? you cant spring a huge relationship change on somebody and then run off and act the hurt party when they havent even #processed it yet! and then KICK THEM OUT when they understandably get ANGRY at you dismissing them? and HELLO. STOLAS DISMISSES BLITZØ."

Buddy. Dude. Stolas didn't actually spring this on Blitz. Blitz literally says at the beginning of the episode that he's been avoiding Stolas because he knows Stolas wants to talk, and he doesn't want things to become complicated. He knows things will change as soon as he actually talks to Stolas and that freaks him out, because in his mind it can't possibly be something good, and this fear is exacerbated by what Loona told him. He literally tells Fizz that Stolas does things to show he likes him, and multiple people have flat out told Blitz that he does, and Blitz can't believe that for multiple reasons, but this entire thing has been building up for months and he knows it. 

Stolas also did not spring his "feelings bullshit" on Blitz either, despite what Blitz claimed. It might have felt like it, because up until then he was in complete denial of those feelings being genuine, but Stolas has not been subtle, by any means. He has, in his and everyone else's minds, been showing Blitz that he cares about him at the very least as a friend, since this whole thing started. Even in fucking Loo Loo Land, despite him awkwardly trying to flirt with Blitz a couple of times, he doesn't actually try to start anything while they're there. He doesn't even seem to expect something sexual to happen between them at all, because he says he wants Blitz and his employees to come and immediately offers to pay Blitz with money, rather than sexual favors like Blitz anticipated. He's using it as an excuse to hang out with Blitz - because he's an idiot who didn't think about how uncomfortable it'd be for literally everyone involved, especially Octavia - and Blitz even knows that because he knows Stolas doesn't actually need one bodyguard, let alone three.

He invited all of them to the harvest moon festival because he thought it'd be fun, again with no expectation of anything sexy happening. He came to rescue I.M.P. with no ulterior motive, he just wanted to help them. He didn't ask for or suggest that he wanted sex in return for the save either, he just asked for a thank you in a very pouty voice because none of them thanked him, and Blitz turned things sexual, which he was happy to follow the lead on. He was super excited for the date, dressed up super fancy, proudly walked into Ozzie's holding Blitz's hand, tried over and over to talk to Blitz because he thought it was a real date, stood up to defend Blitz from Verosika (which Blitz didn't see and which he didn't get to follow through on, because Ozzie took that chance to go on the attack and publicly humiliate him), and even after that disaster he still invited Blitz in solely to hang out and maybe cuddle a bit.

He would ask Blitz to stay the night after they were done having sex instead of just kicking him out, which we see in the memory fragments. He called Blitz on the regular just to talk about his day and was frequently interacting with him on social media, both for approximately a year and a half. He was oblivious to how condescending his attempts at flirting were and had no idea how demeaning it was for Blitz until Blitz finally showed him how much all that hurt him (after Ozzie's), but he only was acting like that and talking that way because he genuinely believed that it was what Blitz wanted and was into, based on their first night together (doesn't excuse it, of course, but it was another way he was desperately trying to show how much he wanted Blitz).

For close to two years by the time The Full Moon rolled around, Stolas has been trying very hard and kind of ineptly to show Blitz he likes him, and at the very least wants to be real friends with him (that also have sex). Literally everyone who has seen them together knows how much Stolas likes Blitz, including Blitz despite him being in denial of it. He has tried again and again and again for nearly two years to show Blitz he cares about him and wants him around, and Blitz - for understandable reasons given his own trauma, history, biases, and hangups - has rejected him time and again. That's why Stolas was expecting Blitz to reject him following his confession. He expected Blitz to tell him to fuck off or to just take the crystal and run without looking back, but he didn't expect to be (unintentionally) mocked. He didn't expect Blitz, who he trusted, to humiliate him. Even without the trauma he has surrounding that, after all the other rejections of course Stolas is going to take Blitz mocking him as another rejection. He didn't think Blitz was confused, because he thinks he's made his feelings pretty damn clear for ages now, and that's why he said he had his answer and was trying to leave before he started crying - which most people hate to do, because crying in front of other people is often a mortifying experience.

"STOLAS DISMISSES BLITZØ.#HES NOT ONE OF YOUR SERVANT IMPS DUDE! HELLOOOO?????? #idk idk idk like stolas was definitely going through it but HOLY SHIT you guys cant be serious when you say it was equal on both sides #when theres a very obvious clear systemic power imbalance. like youre FUCKING WITH ME?? you cant be serious rn"

He wasn't dismissing Blitz. He super fucking did not. He wanted to be alone so he could go cry his guts out, and Blitz was scaring him by getting angry and slamming open doors. That's not dismissing someone, that's going into panic mode. He wasn't treating him like a servant, if he was he would have been bored and unaffected and told him to go. He. Was. Scared. He was hurt and humiliated and scared and Blitz was chasing him down and yelling at him. It's not playing the victim to be scared and it's not playing the victim when your feelings get mocked and you want to get away from the person who just stomped all over your heart.

Blitz's reactions make sense from his end, and absolutely he was being triggered too - he was in fact the one triggered first, though that too was by accident. Yes, his anger was justified and he had every right to express it when he felt he wasn't being listened to. Yes, he wasn't intending to scare Stolas. Yes, Stolas has messed up and hurt Blitz in numerous ways over the course of the series. But my god, that does not mean that Stolas' feelings and reactions are any less justified and reasonable.

It was equal on both sides. They both equally fucked up. They both accidentally hurt and triggered each other. They both were scared. Stolas sending Blitz away was the only thing he could think of to de-escalate the situation, because Blitz was actively trying to pick a fight and Stolas had no idea that Blitz would stop just because he started crying (you think anyone else has ever stopped just because he cried? We literally see both Stella and Paimon mock him for it, and Stolas isn't exactly in a rational sort of mindset here).

Are you really, honestly, truly telling me that you would be fine just standing there and letting someone who just hurt you scream at you in a way that reminded you of both your domestic abuser and the person who recently tried to murder and mutilate you? Are you kidding me? You have completely misinterpreted everything Stolas has said and done in those two episodes by refusing to look at it with any amount of sympathy or compassion and immediately jumping to the worst possible scenario.

"Stolas shouldn't have portalled out Blitz during Full Moon" this and "Stolas should have stuck around and listened to Blitz in the garden during Apology Tour" that. Do y'all not realize how it sounds to demand that a domestic abuse victim stick around when someone is yelling at and insulting them? And on the flip side of that, do the other half of y'all not realize how it sounds to demand that someone, particularly someone from an oppressed group, never get loud or demonstrably angry just because it might scare someone?

Like Blitz had every right to air his grievances in Full Moon, and being angry when you're treated poorly is a perfectly normal, reasonable response. It's not inherently abusive to yell and stomp when you get mad, and it's completely unreasonable to say that Blitz is just because he did. But at the same time, Stolas does not have to sit there and take being yelled at when he's already had to suffer though someone doing it to him maliciously for at least 17 years. He does not have to take being grabbed, being screamed at, or having his clearly stated boundaries ignored either, like at the beginning of Apology Tour. Him getting upset when someone does that to him, when he's only just gotten away from his abuser and was almost murdered for it, is not some failing on his part or him playing the victim.

Blitz's trauma doesn't care that Stolas wasn't actually going to abandon Blitz, and it doesn't care that that the hurtful things Stolas has said and done have come largely from a place of ignorance rather than a lack of care. He's protecting himself the only way he knows how and is blinded by the sheer intensity and longevity of his self-loathing, but frankly it was a good thing for him to finally speak up about how some of the things Stolas does makes him feel, and it's a very good thing that he's actually trying to fight to keep Stolas rather than just booking it and throwing a grenade behind him on the way out.

Just like Stolas' trauma doesn't care if he knows Blitz is different than Stella and wouldn't actually hurt him, and it doesn't care that Blitz's anger comes from a hurt, scared, and traumatized place as opposed to the pleasure Stella took in hurting and scaring him. Stolas hasn't had any time to even begin to heal from the damage she did to him, and frankly if he's scared and breaking down like in Full Moon it's actually a step up if he's removing himself from whoever is triggering him, even if it wasn't fair to Blitz who was, in his own way, attempting to work things out.

Neither of them is the bad guy here, they're just very reasonably upset and having clashing trauma responses. You can be compassionate and understanding of both sides without saying that either of them should have to just sit there and take it when someone is greatly upsetting them. It's normal to get angry when you're scared and upset, and it's normal to cry and run away when you're scared and upset, and neither are wrong or bad just because in the moment when emotions were running high they each did several things that accidently set the other off, especially when they had no way of knowing it was a trigger beforehand.

None of this is say that the way things shook out was great or productive, and they definitely need to work on healing so that they're not letting their fear and trauma control them. If they're going to get to place of real understanding, then at some point these two need to sit down with the intent to talk things out and have an honest and open conversation with each other, without Blitz yelling or Stolas running or either of them letting their preconceived assumptions and biases get in the way of actually listening. Blitz needs to not self-sabotage and Stolas needs to not shut down, and that's going to be really fucking hard for both of them, because that's how they've been coping with their trauma for literal decades.

And to his major credit, Blitz got it right at the end of Apology Tour, the only thing he got wrong was the timing because Stolas was so drunk that I'll be honestly surprised if he remembers most of it in the morning. He wasn't in any state of mind to listen or pay attention, but at the same time, to his credit he's already been reflecting on what Blitz has been saying to him and trying to figure out where and how he fucked up and hurt Blitz. And also, he kept saying things like "right now", which means he will be ready to talk things out eventually if he's just given a little bit of space to put himself back together and think about things.

And guys, please. Just because some people will start crying to try to manipulate and guilt trip those around them whenever someone gets upset at something they did, doesn't make that what Stolas did. He was trying to get away so Blitz wouldn't see him cry. And just because some people like to fly off the handle and rage at every perceived infraction, doesn't make that what Blitz did. He had justifiable cause to be angry and in Full Moon he didn't think Stolas was listening, so he tried to make himself louder and bigger in an attempt to make himself be heard and his hurt be acknowledged. If one of their reactions made you uncomfortable, that's fine, there's nothing wrong with that. But the story isn't about those kinds of people, it's about two fictional demons who aren't trying to hurt or manipulate each other, they're just struggling to juggle trauma, ignorance, and the desire to be together. They're not able to yet, but that's what character arcs are for.

And just to head off any comments on it: no, the narrative is not villifying Blitz and it's not babying Stolas or trying to sweep any of the shit he's done under the rug. Blitz being angry and self-destructive doesn't make him a villain, and Stolas crying a few times and still being pretty ignorant of how he's come across doesn't mean they're trying to say he's done nothing wrong.

[blushintides]

HUNTER'S PREY

warnings: smut, cnc, dom!rafe + bambi!reader feeding rafe's hunting kink, mentions of a chase, bdsm, lil degradation

word count: 1000+

the sun had long since dipped beneath the horizon, leaving the forest bathed in a dim, silvery glow. shafts of moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting shifting patterns on the ground as the wind whispered secrets through the trees. the air was cool, scented with pine and earth, the perfect hiding place for someone who didn’t want to be found.

bambi!reader darted between the trees, her breath coming quick and shallow. her delicate dress caught on branches as she moved, leaving tiny shreds of lace like breadcrumbs. the hem was stained with dirt, her bare feet brushing over moss and twigs. she was trembling, not from the cold but from the chase. her wide, doe-like eyes glistened with unshed tears, reflecting the silvery light as she glanced over her shoulder. she knew he was close—she could feel it.

rafe had always been relentless, but tonight he felt almost primal, his steps heavy and deliberate as he followed her trail. the snap of a twig in the distance made her heart lurch, and she froze, pressing herself against the rough bark of a tree. she held her breath, willing herself to melt into the shadows. the forest was vast, but rafe knew it like the back of his hand. every trail, every clearing, every hidden corner where she might think to hide—he knew them all.

“you can’t run forever, babydoll,” his voice called out, low and smooth, the faintest edge of a taunt curling around the words. it echoed in the stillness, sending a shiver down her spine. “come out now, and maybe i’ll go easy on you.”

she swallowed hard, her trembling fingers clutching at the tree trunk. she didn’t dare move, but her mind raced, searching for a way out, a chance to slip further into the labyrinth of the woods. every instinct told her to run, but she knew that every step she took would only lead him closer.

he was hunting her, not with malice but with a dark, possessive determination that made her knees weak. she knew that if he caught her, it would be over. not in the way she feared—not really—but in a way that left her breathless and trembling for an entirely different reason.

another twig snapped, this time closer, and she startled, her fragile courage crumbling. she bolted, her movements frantic but graceful in a way only she could manage. the sound of her soft footfalls seemed deafening in the stillness, but rafe only smiled in the darkness. he had her now.

“there you are,” he murmured under his breath, the corner of his lips curving into a smirk as he caught sight of her darting figure in the moonlight. like a deer caught in the headlights, she moved with a desperate elegance that made his chest tighten. it wasn’t just a chase to him; it was a game, a dance, and she was the prize he’d claim before the night was through.

it wasn't long before she was caught in his arms, whimpering and kicking as he picked her up over his shoulder, a firm hand on her ass, warning her to stay quiet. "you better stay quiet f'me unless you want me to rough you up more than what i planned on doing, yeah?" he warned her, verbally this time, to which all she could do was nod pathetically and try to conceal her whimpers of fear and anticipation.

he walked down a path, leading to where his truck was at. he opened the door and threw her into the backseat, quickly tying her little wrists behind her back using whatever rope he had left. "oh fuck bambi, the things you do made me do this, made me need this" he said, using his hands to lift up the skirt of the babydoll dress she was in, taking a good look at those cotton panties she had on. "all this for me? oh you shouldn't have baby" he said mockingly, undoing her belt and pulling his pants and boxers down

and fuck was he hard. really hard. bigger than her too, much much bigger. he discarded of her dress and panties completely, leaving her in just her socks and bra. "see how helpless you are doll?" he chuckled, placing his cock on her little tummy, the tip of it barely reaching past her belly button. oh fuck she couldn't take that. as if he heard her thoughts, in that moment he told her "don't worry precious. you'll take it, i know that"

his thumb found it's way to that precious nub of her's, rubbing it in small, tight circles, making her let out those sweet little sounds of her's, her hips moving against his skilled hand. he brought his thumb up to her mouth "open up for me baby". poor girl struggled at first, shaking her head from left to write, keeping her lips sealed. his other hand grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks till her mouth parted, shoving his thumb in. "just needed a little push, that's all" he said, watching her taste herself from his thumb. "you ready for me now baby?" he asked her, positioning the tip of his cock against her opening. poor girl whimpered in fear, trying to shut her legs. "nu uh baby, mm no, not for me" he said, his hands on her thighs, forcing them apart.

"you like this, don't you baby?" he said, before slamming his entire length into her at once. she let out a little cry, shaking her head. "no, no, no" she whimpered pathetically, not bothering to hide her pleasure from him. he was pounding into her mercilessly, hearing her beg him to stop. "you want me to stop, huh baby?" he said into her ear, to where she shook her head no. "yeah, that's what i thought" he said, his thrusts not stopping.

"oh fuck, you're gonna cum soon aren't you, whore?" he chuckled, fucking her harder now. "oh fuck!" she squealed, managing to let her wrists free as she gripped rafe's biceps. "rafe, rafe!" she whimpered when he reached that sweet, soft spot inside of her. she laid helpless as her captor brought her to an ungodly orgasm, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. "i got you baby, your'e alright, almost done, just be good f'me yeah?"

she was so sure he was gonna leave marks from how tight he was gripping her little waist, but she didn't mind. after all rafe loved marking up his prey. "fuck, doll i'm gonna cum, gonna fill you up" he said, her pussy clenched around his cock like a vice. it wasn't long before he spilled his seed into her, moaning with her.

the two calmed down, his head on her chest, breathing heavily from that intense session they had. "you did so good f'me baby, fucking love you" he said, giving her a long kiss on the lips. she smiled down at him shyly "you think so?"

"fuck baby, i know so"

[midnight-bay-if]

Hmhmhm, if you're up for it: MC tackling their RO out of the way of some danger and oh no! Now MC is pinning them against a wall/the ground/whatever and is taking slightly too long to let them up!

(I'm always up for some... tension, haha. Sorry, this took a while to get to! I have around 20 asks in my inbox right now. It also wasn’t specified whether the ROs are in a relationship at this stage, but for the sake of extra tension, I wrote it as if they were not. You know, for fun, haha.)

S: They are used to preparing for every inevitability. Their plans are organised, considered, and timely. But you are something of a wildcard, unpredictable and difficult to control. So, mid-fight, they are surprised, but shouldn't be, when you barrel into them to prevent their attacker from making a swipe for their head. Instead, their body collides with the floor, your weight pressing into them. They hear Taj dispatch the attacker, but they are much too occupied with how your breath tickles their lashes. It seems you are equally transfixed, neither moving to free yourself from the other.

It’s S who coughs and breaks the moment first if only to save themself the embarrassment of explaining the heat of their face. “Ah, forgive me,” they say, attempting to pull themselves out from under you.

With the spell broken, you move just as quickly. “Right. Are you… okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yes. Thank you for the timely assist,” they offer, readjusting their shirt and pointedly focusing their attention elsewhere. Then, they smile. “Perhaps a verbal warning the next time you deem to thrust yourself upon my person?” The double entendre was not lost on you.

Rain: Fighting was never really Rain’s forte. Or, well, not any longer. Luckily for Rain, S mostly agreed with Rain’s pacifist nature and endeavoured to control a battle with as little bloodshed as possible. Rain knew basic hand-to-hand combat, but if they were beside a bed of water, Rain was much more useful. They were not. Taj always hovered close to Rain, ready to defend them at any moment, but they were already caught up with several attackers. It is you who comes to their aid this time.

Without a second thought, you push them down to the ground after a particularly vicious swing of a dagger swipes towards their stomach. It’s enough to save their skin, if not their clothing. Taj finishes the job, breaking away long enough to knock their attacker out. Rain stares up at you, wide-eyed, in disbelief. What you did was terribly reckless, yet you did it for them. They don’t know whether to kiss you or kick you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, chest heaving. “They didn’t hurt you?”

“No,” they gasp, their eyes misting over. “My clothes didn’t survive the ordeal, but otherwise…” They trail off, trying to ignore the heat of you seeping through the frayed piece of clothing. “MC?” They whisper, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. “Please don’t do that again.”

Taj: They rely on synergy during a fight. If they are not fighting alone, it takes knowing exactly what Rain and S think during a fight to navigate it successfully. It’s a reliance on their skill and S’s knowledge of their own that makes them an effective team. You, on the other hand, are an irritant. Your insistence to involve yourself means Taj, while combatting two separate assailants, has one eye trained on you at all times. It’s instinctive. It's not an instinct they are at all pleased about, either.

So, when another combative runs out towards your back, Taj is the first to notice. Dipping beneath a fist aimed for their skull, Taj skids across the ground towards you. Before the man can careen into your side, Taj does so first, knocking you flat beneath them. S, never being far behind, intercepts the attacker and finishes the job. Taj glares down at you, breathing hard, hands flat on either side of your head. You stare back up at them, doing much the same thing. The eyes soften almost imperceptibly when they realise how terrified they felt.

Growling, they push themself off of you, flinching away as if burned. “Try to pay attention, Koel. I won't make a habit of saving you," they lie.

N: In the Haels, they had seen a great deal of death. Much brought on by their hand. It was familiar. Like home. Even in an army, however, nobody truly cared for their fellow soldiers. It was every demon for themselves, as it should be. If you survived, you were strong. If you didn’t, well, you ceased to matter. So, it was quite amusing being pinned beneath you after being knocked out of the way of a deadly blow. How quaint. How strange.

Their heart hammered against their chest, their palms clammy, as they stared up at you with wide eyes. At first, it doesn’t completely compute why your elbow is crushing against their gullet. Then Umbra finishes off their would-be assailant, and all becomes clear. You had risked yourself for them. Why? What did you hope to gain? Their co-operation? Their compliance? Their… submission?

They mask their fear behind the salacious mask they are so prone to wearing. “It’s about time you threw yourself at me, my dear,” they goad, ignoring how their chest clenches. “Mm… I had hoped for a softer landing. Pillows, silk, by candlelight, but I’ll accept whatever it is you have to give.”

You don’t apologise when you dig your elbow deeper into them as you rise.

Umbra: They move without thinking. They do not need to. Their body has a way of directing itself, flowing like water as they dance across the battlefield; death follows. And yet, they are used to watching from a distance. Once, you would have been safe from such horrors as they carried them for you. They failed in this once before, and you forgot. They do not want to repeat this mistake. They want you to remain unscarred, unbroken, and untethered from darkness. So, they continue to dance.

But having you so close leaves them distracted. They focus too heavily on your movements and fail to notice another assailant lying in wait in the darkness.

“Umbra!” Your voice calls to them, so they turn towards you instinctively. But you are rushing towards them, and before they can even process the change, you tackle them down from the line of bullets destined for their chest. N expertly dispatches the shooter, blood splattering across the ground beside you. Neither move, fear gripping you still. Their hand hovers close to your cheek, shaking. They want to hold you, to describe the depth of the feeling, but words fail. As they so often do.

It is you who makes the first move, pushing off you with flushed cheeks and trembling legs. You hold out a hand to them, one they cannot bring themselves to take. “Thank you,” they offer, pushing themselves off the floor. “I… I will do better.”

“Just be safe,” you reply, denying Umbra’s declaration. “I need you to be safe.”

[anonymouslymadebydesign]

100% projecting here but here me out

AFAB Dewdrop below;

Dewdrop, in the main chapel, on his knees before the communal altar to Lord Satan.

It's a new moon, and to kick off the cycle, he's set up a simple but heartfelt ritual; masturbating before the altar, offering his flesh and carnal lust as the offering.

Dewdrop, bringing with him his favorite toy, a monster dick he likes to imagine would be something similar to his Lord. He brings candles, incense, flower petals, a blanket and pillow because he plans on sleeping there as well.

His ritual is simplistic enough: he lights the candles, the myrrh, and cleans his toy despite it already being clean. He likes to show that he's taking the proper steps and not just some random toy he's dug out.

He places the candles, a deep maroon for this ritual, in a large enough circle that he has ample room to lay down if he so chooses. The incense burns just outside the perimeter, filling the area in lovely smoke.

He's wet before he even begins, already worked up and excited beforehand at the thought of his personal ritual.

"Dear Lord Lucifer, hear my prayer. Father Satan, I humbly intrigue to you the gift of my flesh and the carnal desire of lust. I offer unto you my love, my heart, my body mind and soul, and the juices of my desire for you. I give to you my carnal lust and devotion, each orgasm, an offering only to you. Lord Satan, accept my offering, in your name I pray. NemA."

He plants the monster dildo on the marbled tile below, sitting back on his heels, simply admiring the thing. It was dark blue, purple, and magenta. Girthy and long, a knot in the middle that burned going down. It was perfect.

The fire ghoul stands, undressing slowly, making sure each article is folded on the pew behind him before continuing. When he's completely naked, the emptiness and cool air makes his shiver, both in chill and anticipation.

He kneels back down and presses his forehead to the ground, giving thanks and speaking appreciatively, praying to the Dark Lord once again. This time, it was a moment of tenderness, vulnerability, not often seen in the older Fire ghoul. There were very few who saw this side of him, and the one who he trusted completely in heard and cherished each prayer.

Now, despite being practically soaked with anticipation, he knew he couldn't take the dildo on his own. He pulled a small tube of lube out of his bag and poured a generous amount in his hand and on the toy.

Safe in his circle of lit candles, he lines the toy up with his entrance, a low groan as the head enters. The girth alone is impressive, but it's nothing he's never been able to take before. He tilts his head back, slowly impaling himself, a breathy moan leaving him. His hands snake up his sides, hot to the touch, and envisions his Dark Lord instead of his own flesh.

He moans as he lowers himself once again, the knot in the center stretching him out. The fire ghoul lets his imagination take over, fantasizes that it's the Dark Lord teasing his nipples, twisting and pulling, cupping his small breast and massaging them just how he likes.

He imagines Lord Satan behind him, cradling him and easing him down.

'Breath in deep, remember, Droplet...'

Dewdrop does as instructed, breathing in deep and relaxing, a borderline feminine moan escaping him as his cunt swallows the knot.

'Now take a moment, don't rush, or you'll hurt yourself' The voice instructs.

"Fuck...!" Dewdrop hisses, feeling the head of the dildo kiss his cervix. It was so deep, almost too deep, but exactly what he craved. His head lolled, long golden waves cascading down his back. A beautiful offering, the perfect image of lust, love, and trust.

In the back of his mind, he was grateful that he'd brought along a blanket and pillow, the haziness of masturbating already catching up to him. He was always so sleepy when he came, and he knew for a fact that he was pulling more than one orgasm from his body tonight.

[mothergayselle]

two crows, one dagger -- datv rook/lucanis oneshot

rating: T word count: 819 summary: lucanis gifts rook with a dagger, only to later find out the heartfelt meaning behind its name :)

read on AO3

“here,” lucanis says. his full lips crack into a smirk. “for you.” 

rook glances down at the dagger in his fist. it’s elegant—a depthless black, spanning three-quarters of the length of her forearm. when he lifts it in an offering and she takes it, breath leaves her in a rush and she almost stumbles back again from the surprise. 

she gasps, both two-toned eyes flashing wide with disbelief. “is that…?”

lucanis merely shrugs. his smirk blooms into a smile that crinkles the skin at the corner of his eyes, and he waits for her to finish the thought. he waits for the full glory of realization to rip through her like an arrow–the joy, when it does show, becomes a pulse beating inside his chest.

“how did you get this?” rook asks, each cheek dimpled and flushed. “there were only supposed to be ten onyxtail daggers ever made because the dragon slain for its scales was so—”

“small,” lucanis finishes this time. he winks, folding his arms across his chest. “kind of like you, amor. shall we make it a nickname?”

rook only bites the inside of her cheek. “bastard.” she starts toward him, the large fish tank blinking turquoise across her strange gold and silver eyes. she’s only a dagger’s length away before he inclines his head, still smiling, though the curved angles of his jaw clench in warning.

“just name it something nice,” he says. “otherwise i’m going to have to take it back from you when we train.”

and then he’s out the door, shoulder blades stiff and upright. just like a blade.

several days later.

“mierda, you’re lazy today.”

lucanis circles rook like a vulture, eyes appraising as she stalks counter-clockwise in the rivaini cave they use as a training ground—a favorite of theirs, offered by the lords of fortune after spite gave them a show during one of their most prestigious rounds in the fighting arena. the cave, passable beneath a waterfall, provides plenty of privacy for the crows to spar, though its watery, gleaming splendor is not what lucanis allows himself to appraise next.

“my, my,” rook teases, watching as his eyes dip and scrutinize the brightly-dyed “breastplate”—as if it can be called anything other than a glorified brassiere—also gifted by the lords of fortune. “but aren’t you feeling lecherous?”

lucanis, hair damp with sweat and tied back, flashes an uncharacteristic, mischievous grin. 

“forgive me, my little onyxtail. if i seem more libidinous than usual, it must be because you’re giving me the opportunity.” he lunges at rook, testing her defenses with a shortsword before leaping back. 

“make that opportunities. i nearly had you that time.”

rook’s hair, crimson red, is a flame while she fends off another attack, parrying and whirling away. meanwhile, the onyxtail blade seems to suck the light from both the cave and her tresses itself like a contained ocean of night. 

“you shouldn’t jest, old man. shit like that may be bad for your health!”

she swipes low, aiming for his hip, but lucanis sidesteps the strike and quickly—but gently—fists a hand in her long braid. 

“the only thing that may be bad for my health is you wearing that sorry excuse for a top,” he growls, yanking her close.

lucanis then kicks hard and swift, his foot landing against the back of rook’s knee, causing her to stumble. shifting, he next brings his fist down onto her forearm, knocking her off-hand blade to the floor, and grabs her waist with both hands.

“keep loose,” he whispers, grinning again, and they both tumble to the ground, rook landing precariously on top of lucanis in the cave’s gritty sand.

“hey!” rook whines, narrowed eyes peering into the other crows’. 

lucanis expression crumbles into confusion. “what? i won that round, no?”

“no, that’s not what i mean,” she hisses. with a glance, rook motions towards the cave wall, where the onyxtail dagger lay tossed beside it. she meets lucanis’ gaze again.

“you almost made me scrape della!”

for a moment, lucanis says nothing, nor does he notice his fingers absentmindedly tightening on the bare skin of rook’s lower back. “…della?” 

“della. my dagger. i finally named it.”

something akin to wonder flares in lucanis’ face, like the heavens breaking free of a midnight hour. he cocks his head, slowly, peering into rook’s face with astonishment.

“you named the dagger… after me?”

a sigh escapes from rook, and she harrumps, touching a calloused hand to his cheek. “of course i did. who else was i going to name it after?”

“rook…”

she thinks she sees lucanis shake his head, but then he’s rolling them over, pressing her harder into the sand with his body weight. when his mouth finally, finally, crashes into hers, he tastes like morning coffee and flight, and not even the thought of a brand-new blade being scratched can stop rook from crashing right back into him.

[angelwishess]

Songs from Epic: The Musical that I think fit my ocs !!!!

— Kyra:

Open Arms: One of the songs I relate to Kyra alot, despite all of the tragedy and cruelty shes faced, she still looks forward with a bigger smile than before. And even more love in her heart. No matter what challeneges life tries to throw at her, she still remains hopeful and chooses to trust the world anyways, leading with her heart above all. Despite how mischevious and careless she can be at times, deep down she really does care about the people closest to her.

Keep Your Friends Close: Kyra is extremely mischevious, and her morals are tricky to understand. She seems to follow a strict set of rules, but no one knows that they are. Shes playful, and treats most things as a game or as a joke, usually never realizing how dire a situation is, and being somewhat uncaring about how the others around her feel as long as she gets a kick out of it. The playfulness of Aeolus’ voice really gives me Kyra vibes too 😭😭

— Elena

Ruthlessness: Elena has never been one to trust, and she never will be. Though she definetly isn’t a sea deity that’s had their son’s eye impaled by a Greek king— Elena definetly goes by the saying “Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves”. By being cruel to others she saves herself from the pain of betrayal. And as shes closed her heart off from the world, she doesn’t care how or what she has to do to come out on top, no matter how cruel she’ll seem to others. After all, down in the depths, its Kill or Be Killed.

Puppeteer: The biggest part of Elena’s character (atleast from Prologue to Book 3,) is the fact the persona she shows to the rest of the world is a facade. She invites people into her presence, gets them to lower their guard and they eventually regret it. Because despite how sweet and harmless she seems shes a puppeteer that uses people for whatever it is she needs, and she does anything in her power to protect her loved ones from any harm, no matter what she has to do to do it. Nothing is too cruel or too vile if it means she can keep them safe, and she’ll happily play the part of Puppeteer if it means that her loved ones can remain untouched.

— Jester

Wouldn’t You Like: Jester is an extremely powerful and talented mage, and she often helps Kyra and the Aduece duo with whatever it is they need. While she’ll never directly do anything to help them, she’ll give them hints and point them in the right direction to get what they need. All the while she’ll be watching from afar, amused.

(Fun fact!: Jester is also inspired by this song, and Hermes from this musical!! :3)

Dangerous: If it wasn’t obvious already, Jester likes to pop up at only the most convenient of times HAHAHA. Shes always giving advice to the younger students, telling them to take risks and subtly pushing them into the right direction. Jester is a very supportive upperclassman, and while she won’t ever get involved directly she will give them the best advice they’ll ever receive HEHE, despite how silly she seems she can be rather wise at times.

[theseshipsshallsail]

Sequel to the dancing fic, now starring Elio's filthy mouth... 😏

BIGGER THAN THIS (MORE THAN US)

“You know… that’s probably my favourite position,” Elio declares as he shuts the bathroom door behind him; left hand raking the chestnut curls now plastered to his dewy forehead.

He looks straight at him - a piercing sharpness in his gaze - and something ignites in Oliver’s belly no matter how recently they’ve lain in each other’s arms; sweaty and sated and knuckling the sleep from their gritty eyelids.

“Your favourite?” his sleep-deprived brain summons the wherewithal to ask.

“Sì,” Elio murmurs; coy to the point of transparency. “My favourite.” 

He grins - a brash, flirty sort of thing - then rocks back on his heels with a lazy shrug.

“It’s the anticipation, ouais? That raw moment of longing before you brush your cock against my waiting mouth…”

It’s bad enough he’s distractingly semi-naked, but one deft tug, and he casts his towel aside, also.

“...before I taste the pearls of pre-come that reaffirm your need.”

Oliver’s blood flows south at a gallop. “Good God, Elio…” he whispers hoarsely, not entirely certain his deity of choice, but covering both options, nonetheless.

“I like to lick them with my tongue,” his boyfriend reveals, taking a deliberate step as Oliver sits down blindly at the foot of the bed. “To trace the scar at your crown that marks us as equals. Binding us together since time immemorial.”

He crosses the remaining distance in a blink; clambering into Oliver’s lap with proprietary ease, then urging his dumbstruck shoulders to the chamomile-scented sheets.

“I like to hear you moan,” Elio explains, the strings of his bracelets tickling Oliver’s nipple as he leans in close. “Et toi?” Spearmint breath gusts warmly across his cheek. “Do you like when I make you do that?”

The realisation strikes him to the core - as if Zeus himself had hurled his trusty lightning bolt - and a violent shiver darts up Oliver’s spine as he grasps the other man by his nape. “Fuck, yes,” he grunts, dragging his nose along the ivory temptation of Elio’s neck.

“There's no more secrets between us, mon cher. No more hiding. Not now we’ve finally let each other in.”

Elio’s right. 

There aren’t. 

Including the fact Oliver’s eager erection is currently tenting a fresh pair of cotton boxers; normal refractory period be damned.

“And when I’m nice and comfortable on those stacked up pillows,” Elio purrs, lips skimming the shallow indent of his jugular notch. “When I’ve tasted and teased and got you straddling my chest… nudging past my gag-reflex to stretch my stuffed-full throat? Oh…” 

The little heathen knows exactly what that does to him. 

“Is it selfish, I wonder? To undo you so completely?” The low timbre of Elio’s voice is thoroughly hypnotic. “To drive you to the brink again and again ‘til it’s all you can think about?” A pause. “‘Til I’m all you can think about?”

“Sweetheart…”

“But you’re mine, now,” Elio says, sucking a mark at the curve of his hip. “And I am yours.”

“In every way possible,” Oliver agrees, hauling him up the length of his body, then kisses him with such fierce desperation any notion of gentleness or finesse soon flies the proverbial coop.

They only pull apart when black dots encroach upon his vision, and banding a forearm around Elio’s slender waist he proceeds to flip them over; burying his face in his scallop-shell clavicle as he kicks his underwear to the floorboards below. 

“You’re not too sore?” Oliver checks, settling into the cradle of his thighs, but Elio merely smirks, the hardness at his groin an answer in itself when he purposefully arches against him.

“Sto bene,” he assures, seeking out the small, foil sachet they’d lost in their earlier encounter. “I want you.”

“You have me,” Oliver repeats, tearing it open with his teeth. “You’ve had me, you menace.”

“And now I want you again,” Elio tells him, tilting his ass to assist as lube-slick digits drift behind his scrotum; massaging the puckered ring of muscle that’s remarkably yielding to his touch. 

It doesn’t take much to work him open, and when Oliver replaces three fingers with the head of his leaking cock he groans at the supple heat. Bearing forward with steady intent until he’s fully seated: Elio’s legs encircling his lower back whilst his palms squeeze his churning buttocks; guiding a rhythm that swells and spirals and doubles in intensity.

Hearts racing.

Lungs heaving.

Meeting each other thrust for thrust until they’re gasping a primal song of pleasure into each other’s gaping mouths. 

He was terrified, quite frankly, all those weeks ago at Monet’s berm: to name this connection they’ve forged between them. To articulate the desires that’ll shape the path ahead. But every transformation requires a catalyst. Of which Elio Perlman is most definitely his. It won’t be easy. Nothing worth fighting for ever is. Yet they’re finding a way to make this permanent - solidifying their plans in the harsh light of day - and tears spring unbidden to Oliver’s eyes as he teeters on the edge of exhaustion.

“I love you,” he whispers, a statement and a vow. “I’m in love with you,” he continues, compelled to make the distinction. 

Elio hums - monosyllabic, it seems, in the wake of his orgasm - but actions speak louder than words as he reels him in by his Star of David; kissing him like they have all the time in the world.

[muzzlemouths]

This is by no means an exhaustive list and I'll likely update it as I remember more, but here's some stuff off the top of my head. sorry it kind of turned into a Behind The Scenes Tour situation lmao.

There are two A1Z26 ciphers found on the DFtR VHS Cover. The shorter number on the spine (451208) translates to "Death", and the barcode (10211920935) translates to "Justice".

The sequence that Y/N and Devin follow through the woods (left, left, right, right, left, left, right, right), when converted to binary (left = 0, right = 1) directly translates to "3", which is also where Devin stands on Sun's killing order.

Sun walks without the limp as early as chapter 2, when he's carrying y/n back to the rec room. y/n is too distracted by the awkward piggyback they're in to notice.

The counselor's first reactions to Chet's body are a reflection of their final moments before death (or how they would have died). Dolly screams, Heather is silent, Oscar pukes, and Devin interrogates you.

The only time either of them refer to y/n as "Bunny" instead of "Rabbit" is during Moon's rhyme, “Poor little bunny thinks it’s going to be sick.” This is in direct contrast to the route in which y/n doesn't save anyone (and/or agrees to help them), wherein they only refer to y/n as "Bunny", and only ever use "rabbit" when y/n says or does something they don't like.

The contents of Chet's bag (playing cards, bug spray, a hammock) are meant to imply that he was likely the only one in the group actually excited to go camping. Irony is a bitch.

During Sun's rant about why they've boarded up his cabin, he mentions a reason for disliking the various troublesome animals except for squirrels, in which he only says "and don’t even get me started on the squirrels." Then, a while later, it's a squirrel that interrupts the discussion (both his conversation with y/n as well as the silent discussion he's having with Moon as they attempt to change their plans in real time to adjust to y/n's presence). Did you know that squirrels symbolize adaptability?

Oscar mentioning that Sun used to put on puppet shows back in the day is a subtle nod to a scene in an alternate route where the body in the freezer moves seemingly on its own accord, but is actually being puppeteered by Sun from the rafters using fish hooks and wire.

Additionally, there's a scene in an alternate route where y/n figures Sun out much sooner and, likewise, considers telling the counselors much closer to the beginning. This results in Sun hunting down an actual rabbit, cooking it, and presenting it as a meal to y/n as a not-so-subtle threat to behave. The Sun on this current route is far less unhinged than what we could have had.

Sun offering to find y/n a bat was, at the time, an extension of opportunity long before Moon spelled it out for them in the cabin. The other counselors were only able to find weapons that sliced, which are largely ineffective against sturdy metal. Contrarily, y/n is easily offered a weapon that bludgeons and, as we've already seen, does quite a bit of damage to them. It's the one gamble they lost.

Crappies (the fish) symbolize enduring strength. That one's a bit on the nose.

In chapter 3, it's mentioned that Sun burns the fish because he was distracted, which is half true. The real reason he burnt the fish is due to the argument he and Moon had because of Sun's sudden refusal to take y/n out of the picture when he had the opportunity.

When Oscar asks about Moon in chapter 1, it comes across like his question is based in fear, when in reality he is asking out of genuine concern, as he and Moon were very close friends before everything went down. His reaction to hearing that Moon was still alive and kicking would have been relief had Sun not immediately jumped on the opportunity to twist the news into being a direct threat.

In the scene where Y/N discovers Chet's body, their rashly made decision to rip the knife out of the wound (and therefore make him bleed out faster) is meant to symbolize that every choice has repercussions and, regardless of motives or morals, actions have consequences. A lesson that the counselors are learning the hard way.

Y/N as a "character" is meant to mirror what everyone values in themselves and, secretly, what they wish they themselves actually exhibited. Dolly values that y/n is tough because she doesn't believe she's gutsy, just that she's a bitch. Devin values that y/n is smart because he never feels as smart as people tell him he is (or should be), Heather values that y/n is stubborn but understanding because her own stubbornness often clouds her vision and morals, she doesn't know when to stop. Oscar values that y/n is loyal but not a doormat (anymore), something that he openly admits to struggling with himself. Jenn valued y/n's decisiveness.

ok new plan. if i were to write up a short list of the little details scattered throughout DFtR that aren't particularly plot relevant enough to mention in the fic itself but are still fun enough (to me) to include. is that something you guys would be interested in

[woosansang]

.

[cuteiemonster]

Honestly I don't have much of an explanation outside of I like the irony of a Blind Watcher. And. Well. Grian is right there for things to go awry like that. So,

This was created for the 2024 Reverse Big Bang hosted by @mcytblraufest !! Us artists had to create artwork for the writers to claim this time around! >:)

and speaking of writers.. my art garnered the attention of not one, but two writers, who both created fanfics based off of my art!! It's been such a cool experience seeing how differently they've both taken things and they're both VERY WELL DONE!!!!!!!!

" Glass " by @honeylashofficial

Parts make up a whole, but Mumbo hasn't been a part of anything for a very long time. He was okay with that though. The world was more than welcome to continue outside his window, as long as he had his oven and his cable tv all to himself. But every once in a while, the outside world comes inside, and he has to chase it back out with a broomstick. This time, his technique backfires in a way he never could have imagined. Or... Mumbo could count the number of his friends without even raising a hand. Who knew that a 30,000 year-old creature stealing his bed comforter could change that?

" Lost To The End " by Sary_Sary

Six months ago, Mumbo’s closest friend vanished without a trace, leaving nothing but unanswered questions. 6 months later, a strange creature appears in his bedroom, with no inkling of how or why. With no clue how this creature got there or what it wants, Mumbo is thrown into a whirlwind of confusion as he tries to figure out what is going on. Now, Mumbo has to continue trying to figure out where Grian went, all while learning what this creature even is, and how to help him without harming him in the process. To make matters worse, the only person who can help him unravel this mystery is the one person Mumbo swore he would never work with: Scar.

[youraveragecatastrophe]

and they were partners! oh my god they were partners...

Do you ever think about how in the original Treasures of knowledge game, Carmen and Jules were partners at ACME and probably had all sorts of adventures together? do you?? because i do, all the time

[gunslinginnhogtyin]

But is cut off before he can finish uttering that nickname, not that it bothers him any… he melts into that kiss, his eyes falling shut. They had exchanged casual kisses before but this one held a different sort of weight—he could tell by the way Jonas had asked beforehand rather than going for it.

He feels electric inside as Jonas pulls him even closer by his bandana; he leans into it eagerly, his lips parting to invite the redheads tongue into his mouth to meet his own. That naughty tongue curls around his and that’s all the initiative he needs to allow his own tongue to explore Jonas’ mouth. He feels warm inside as their tongues wrestle one another for a long moment; he’s impressed by how good of a kisser the small red head truly is—he’d been hiding this from him the whole time? That body rocks against his leisurely and he pulls Jonas closer by the waist, slowing his to do the same. That friction between them only excites him further, eliciting a pleased him from him right into Jonas’s mouth. His hands explore his waist, his hips, his backside and everything he can reach that isn’t too inappropriate for a bar setting. His imp like tail curls behind him, jittering excitedly. It had always done a poor job at masking how he truly felt.

His blue eyes flutter open when their lips come close to parting, a shaky breath escaping him as Jonas’ teeth leave one last bite to his lower lip before the kiss ends. God, that was sexy… if riling the cowboy up was his plan, he had been incredibly successful!

It’s only when he hears the tone in Jonas’s voice that all of that warmth turns cold… it was a sweet comment for sure, and he certainly would remember it, but he recalls the pale look on the freckled man’s face when he had returned from the restroom earlier. Now he sounded absolutely forlorn. It’s easy to recognize the cracks in his voice, as hard as he tries to suppress them and his gut told him told him something was wrong, though he’s unsure as to what. It had never steered him wrong thus yet, so when those hands leave his face and the other man scurries off into the crowd, he’s left to watch, something stirring within him that compels him to follow.

It’s Jonas’s business, sure, but he keeps an eye on the redhead to the best of his ability and takes note of the general direction he runs off to. He remains there for the time being and decided to flip through some the songs to ease the knot in his stomach but minutes pass and he grows more concerned. He had argued in his mind that the other was a grown man, he could take care of himself but… the worry clawing at him drives him to check just in case.

The demon blooded cowboy navigates his way through the crowd of people and makes his way up the stairs the moment he reaches the base. Everything is unfamiliar—he had never been in a bar with an upstairs. Only brothels back in the day seemed to have stairs and other rooms for activities… he finds it peculiar that this would be the first place Jonas hastily retreats to, rather than the restroom. He slows to a walk, looking around at the cheesy rodeo portraits hanging from the wall. It’s not long before the sound of Jonas’s muffled voice catches his attention—it might not have otherwise behind that door if he hadn’t enhanced perception thanks to his demon blood. That voice devolves into a muffled scream that’s cut off far too soon and he rushes towards that room, doing what he usually does in a hurry and merely kicking the door in. It comes off the hinges though and slams into the ground and he leaps on top of it, his eyes quickly finding Jonas’s assailant.

They widen briefly in surprise at the true severity of the situation before anger boils inside of him like hot soup. It’s not hard to tell that Jonas isn’t enjoying this kind of attention. He doesn’t hesitate to trudge over and even though the aggressive male is quite a bit taller than him, he has no problem grabbing him by the back of his hair and ripping him from Jonas in one forceful tug. Those short strands of hair slip from his fingers afterwards and he can’t help but raise his voice, loud and demanding.

“Th’ fuck’s goin’ on here!? Can’t y’see he don’t like all that!?” The sandy blonde growls, a hand swiping to grab ahold of the larger man’s collar. He yanks him to his height with ease. “Ya’ve got ‘bout five seconds t’make what’cha jus’ did sound like an accident b’fore I turn ya int’ pulp!” He snarls, baring his teeth and flashing those golden fangs. His tail rattles behind him furiously.

He'd barely gotten that endearing little nickname out before Jonas's soft lips found his.

They'd traded a few playful kisses here and there in the course of their light-hearted flirt battles. Whatever the cowboy might have personally felt about those casual kisses, each one had been a sweet and surprising little treasure to Jonas, ones that made his heart beat all the faster and got him ever so pleasantly flustered. He definitely felt Butch had always had the upper hand in that department.

And now in this moment, Jonas wanted to give ALL those feelings the cowboy kept stirring up in him right back. With interest.

Jonas's hands found that bandanna around Butch's neck and pulled him lower with rather a surprising urgency as his mouth eagerly explored Butch's. He rocked gently back and forth against the taller man, his eyes closed in bliss. That clever little tongue trailed lightly against Butch's parted teeth, found his tongue and curled sweetly around it, tasting the sweet fiery burn of the remnants of blackberry liqueur and all the complicated flavors that had been in his drink.

He didn't let up at that point either, deepening the kiss as his thumbs massaged over Butch's temples, his fingers curling in his feathery soft hair. He was determined to make DAMN sure that Butch would know that he'd drink his very soul with this kiss if he could. Because no matter what went on later in the evening...Jonas was going to give all of this to Butch and Butch alone.

After what seemed like an eternity, his lips closed gently over Butch's lower lip, giving it the lightest nibble and one last sweet pull as if it were the delicious remnants of ice cream at the bottom of the cup and his own lips were the straw getting every last drop. His mouth reluctantly parted from Butch's then with the softest plp! noise and he exhaled gently before bringing his mouth to Butch's ear.

" Please...please remember that. Ok? No matter what..." he murmured. " I'm sorry I-I....I gotta go I'll be back...wait for me. "

He heard his own voice cracking as he said those words, felt dangerous tears start to sting his eyes. He pulled himself away, walking and then running, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth trying to compose himself as he vanished into the crowd.

He headed for the stairs at the far end of the bar. Up them, down the hall, opening the door... but in the time he'd taken to go from downstairs to upstairs something inexplicably warm had started growing steadily through the sick cold fear that was trying to swallow him. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or something else, but either way he'd started thinking pretty damn hard.

He stepped inside. It was dark except for the karaoke screen lit up waiting for the next song. " C-cooper..." he said hoarsely, looking around trying to find him. Maybe he'd lucked out and Cooper had gotten tired of waiting?

" Cooper, " he said, a little louder. " W-where are you? "

The door slammed shut behind him, the lock clicking into place. " Well if it ain't the Vegas bicycle, " came his growl behind Jonas who startled and spun around.

His entire body had started shivering but nevertheless he clenched his fist and retorted. " I'm...I'm not doin' any shit w-with you...ok? I decided...I'm f-fucking done...I c-came up here t-to tell you that...and-and don't...bring B-Butch into it either..l-leave him alone, ok? "

Cooper sauntered towards him, stepping into the sickly glow from the screen and stopping right in front of him. " Aw. Scared I'm gonna beat up your little boyfriend? "

Jonas's face darkened red and he pressed his lips together as his entire body continued to tremble. " He-he doesn't think of me like that...ok..." he muttered.

" Oh so you're just his fucktoy for the night? Yeah that's about all you are really, you know. Or did you forget? "

Jonas stepped back from Cooper, his eyes averted. " I-I'm leaving...fuck you..." he blurted out, turning on his heel.

Cooper moved so fast it was almost a blur, hand twisting in Jonas's hair as he slammed him backwards into the wall so hard stars burst in the redhead's vision. In that same instant his other hand grabbed Jonas's wrist, fingers digging into his skin painfully.

" Nah. Changed my mind. Think I'll send you back to him in a bit. And he's gonna see the evidence all over you as to who owns your little bitch ass." he chuckled. " Starting with your smart mouth." His teeth sank into Jonas's lower lip and bit down.

Blood sprang up and he muffled Jonas's scream of sudden pain with his own vicious mouth.

[resident-gay-bitch]

little rich boy sirius who gets disowned and can barely survive without his expensive brands and the basic human need to eat at least once a day meeting the entirely too generous james potter who just falls for the vanity and sincerity of the reformed rich boy and decides that once sirius stops caring about brands and status and rich boy things and just cares about what matters in life he decides to spoil his boyfriend to pieces because he’s secretly sitting on a fucking fortune