#i was assaulted by this song hard enough to hit back

[televinita]

Not only do I not like this, I fucking hate it more than I have ever hated a "song" in my life (followers, if you're curious, please turn your volume down to "barely audible" before unmuting if you enjoy men not screaming in your ear at the top of their lungs while also slamming electric guitars.)

✨ Please reblog to make it reach out to as many people as possible, but KEEP IT SPOILER-FREE to make people listen to the music with an open mind 💖

Artists and titles will be revealed after the poll's conclusion, check the original post for an update! ✨

[elllisaaa]

Svt reaction to their s/o getting cute aggression on them

seventeen when their s/o gives them cuteness aggression

-> pairing : svt x gn!reader

-> word count : 1.6k

-> genre : fluff

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> author's note : this idea is soooo cute ! i had a lot of fun writing this ! hope you'll like it !

-> masterlist | svt masterlist

svt version | ateez version

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

cause of the aggression : cheol pouting because you won't give him one of the cookies you made.

he starts to whine when you pepper his whole face with kisses.

but you're not dumb - you see the big smile stretching out his lips and his eyes filled with adoration as you peck his lips so many times he can't count.

he's just so comfy with his hair ruffled from his nap and his glasses sitting on his nose so prettily.

he doesn't stop you until you finally decide that you attacked him enough.

"stop being so cute choi seungcheol."

"if i get kisses, i won't."

YOON JEONGHAN

cause of the aggression : jeonghan looking fondly at you while you're rambling about your favorite song.

the faint smile on his lips and the dreamy look in his eyes is enough for you to grab his face in between your hands and aggressively kiss his whole face.

jeonghan is whining the whole time, threatening you to take his revenge if you don't let him go.

but truly, he wants you to stop only because his heart is about to burst from how loved you make him feel.

when you finally feel satisfied with the amount of kisses you left on his face, it's your chance to witness a flustered jeonghan - his cheeks slightly red but enough for you to notice it.

"you're blushing, baby."

"am not, you just left your lipstick all over me."

HONG JOSHUA

cause of the aggression : his smile. yes, that is enough of a reason for me.

you playfully bite his cheeks - not hard enough to leave a mark behind - loving the way they become even more adorable when he smiles.

joshua only giggles at your antics and lets you do whatever you want.

but let's not forget that he's a menace and you understand that he's planning something the second you see his devilish grin.

in return, he also bites your cheeks.

"why did you do that, josh ?"

"you're adorable too, you also deserve cuteness aggression."

MOON JUNHUI

cause of the aggression : him playing with your cat and calling him his son.

they look alike too much and both of them together are too cute to not react.

you kiss your cat first, inhaling his scent, then you do the same to your boyfriend.

jun doesn't really understand what's happening to him, but quickly, the feeling of your lips against the skin of his temples and cheeks relaxes him and he closes his eyes.

he only opens them when you finally stop and your proud smile makes him chuckle while he pulls you closer to him to hug you.

"what did we do to deserve all of that ?"

"you're both cute. and i love you. isn't that enough ?"

KWON SOONYOUNG

cause of the aggression : the way his whole face brightens up when you bring him a new tiger plushie.

you squish his cheeks in between your hands, cooing at him while he looks at you, completely lost.

you kiss his forehead too many times to count, and then you do the same to his lips.

but soon enough, soonyoung is smiling too much for you to go on with your assault.

he doesn't even try to play it off and is fully comfortable with showing you the blush you caused to spread from his cheeks to his ears.

"i should be the one doing that baby ! you're so cute for thinking about me and buying me this !"

"i always think about you soonie."

JEON WONWOO

cause of the aggression : your sleepy boyfriend waking up from his nap and looking at you from his spot on your chest.

you take a deep breath before looking back at him, hit by the same heavenly view of your half-asleep boyfriend.

your "aggression" is quite soft because you don't want to scare him but you still pepper his whole face with little kisses that make his heart melt.

a quiet "baby" falls from his lips when you kiss the tip of his nose three times in a row.

when you're finally done and satisfied, your eyes fall into wonwoo's awestruck gaze and you feel the need to attack him again.

"i just woke up, can't you wait two seconds ?"

"no. you're too adorable, i have to show my appreciation right now."

LEE JIHOON

cause of the aggression : his focused face while he's producing is undeniably adorable.

you look up at him from where you're sitting on his lap and decide that his neck will be your target.

you nuzzle your nose against the side of his neck aggressively before littering his skin with just as aggressive kisses.

jihoon interrogates you about what you're doing but you only kiss him harder and he simply decides to let you do your thing.

once you're satisfied, you look up at him again, and he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear.

jihoon is shaking his head but you see the light smile stretching out his lips.

"you're crazy, you know that ?"

"i know. that's why you love me, though."

LEE SEOKMIN

cause of the aggression : seokmin coming home with a bouquet of your favorite flowers just because they made him think of you.

you put the bouquet down on the kitchen counter to not damage it before throwing yourself in his arms.

seokmin giggles and the way he smiles makes your heart flutter even more.

his hands go down to hold your waist as you repeatedly kiss his nose, then you do the same to his lips.

seokmin lets you do everything you want to him, but before you can withdraw after your last kiss, he prolongs the kiss.

"i really am the luckiest man on earth."

"what should i say, then ?"

KIM MINGYU

cause of the aggression : his puppy look when begging you to go out that same night.

you can never resist when he's looking at you like that, so you roll your eyes before starting your attack on him.

you start by covering his forehead with kisses, then his temples, his cheeks, his lips and finally his jaw.

mingyu starts whining as soon as your lips come in contact with his skin, his wide eyes looking at you with adoration nonetheless.

when you stop, he's pouting with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"you can't do that, baby ! my heart can't take this."

"well, stop being so cute. were going out if you want to, handsome. i can't refuse you anything when you're looking at me this way."

XU MINGHAO

cause of the aggression : him peacefully reading on a random saturday, all cozy on your couch.

you came from behind the couch, inhaling his scent as you buried your head in his hair.

minghao chuckled, but he let you nuzzle your head in his neck and kiss him all you wanted.

when you feel satisfied, you wrap your hands around his shoulders and he voluntarily leans his cheeks towards you, so you kiss him there too with a grin.

minghao is used to your impulsive thoughts but when you show your appreciation like that, it never fails to make his heart flutter.

"you made me lose track of my book."

"then re-read it to me, i love listening to your voice."

BOO SEUNGKWAN

cause of the aggression : the way he's so excited that you went with him to play badminton is making you fall in love all over again.

before the both of you can even start playing, you grab his hand to stop him and cut his face in your hands.

you pepper his whole face in kisses, but seungkwan is trying to playfully push you away.

it's only for form because his ears are slowly turning to a bright shade of red as he continues to sulk.

you place a last kiss on his nose before grabbing your racket and walking to the court, seungkwan following right behind you and trying to hide his grin.

"why did you do that ? we're in public, y/n !"

"oh, shut up, you loved it. and if you want me to stop, then you shouldn't be this adorable."

CHWE HANSOL

cause of the aggression : he's talking about his latest idea for a song and he's so adorable when he's passionate you just cannot help it.

you're currently laying on his chest in his bed, so all you have to do is to bury your head in his shirt.

then, you slowly start to kiss up his body, while hansol looks at you with wide and confused eyes.

your last kiss is on his lips and he still seems lost.

so you kiss him again, deeper, and he finally relaxes under your touch even if he doesn't understand why you feel the need to attack him like that.

but you're his beautiful partner, he's not going to complain at all, on the contrary.

"you're weird sometimes, y/n."

"you're weird too, that's why we're such a good match."

LEE CHAN

cause of the aggression : him preparing breakfast for the two of you because it's too cute to resist.

you walk in the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes when you notice chan dancing around the kitchen while finishing up what he's been cooking.

he's literally the perfect man, you have to reward him by wrapping your hands around his waist from behind and leaving kisses and bites all over his shoulders.

and you're glad he doesn't wear a tee to sleep, it makes your access to his skin easier.

chan turns around as soon as you stop, and you easily notice the blush on his cheeks that you kiss too with a smile.

"good morning, baby."

"it is indeed a very good morning. i want that every day, please."

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

svt taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @heevllog @lichyuu @bewoyewo @foxinnie8

[anniflamma]

Trigger warning: topic about SA, aka Im gonna rant about the suitors plan

----

So, I’m going to talk about something I actually dislike ALOT in Epic: The Musical. The whole subplot about the suitors wanting to gangrape Penelope. The more I think about it, the more I realize how unnecessary this addition to the story is.

If you removed it, it wouldn’t change the outcomes of the story at all. Odysseus would still kill them. Nothing has ever stopped him before— neither the infant, Polites’ ideology, nor the fact that he willingly led his remaining crew to certain death while always ensuring his own safety above theirs. But somehow, a group of 20-year-olds is the line he can’t cross????? Like, “Oh no, they’re just rude guests, I can’t kill them!🙁” It doesn’t make sense. Odysseus would kill them either way, they don’t need to be wannabe gangrapists to motivate him. It’s entirely in character for him to do so without additional justification.

I understand why Jorge added this to the story, is to raise the stakes. Odysseus has just defeated the personification of ruthlessness itself (Poseidon) by using a fucking jetpack and punching the god really hard. Symbolically, Odysseus has taken the title of “ruthlessness” for himself. So, what can the next threat be that’s stronger and more menacing than Poseidon? Ah yes.... it's the gangrapists /s

For me, it would be more thematically fitting with Odysseus’ ruthless nature to not have a justifiable "motivation" to kill the suitors. Imagine instead if they were portrayed as having the same youthful energy as Telemachus. Like a bunch of rude young men! And then the story could show an adult man brutally murdering a group of young people with no mercy. Then, the song ends with Odysseus seeing Penelope’s horrified face as she looks around the throne room splattered with the blood and gore of her guests. At that moment, Odysseus realizes he’s messed up, putting his biggest fear, which is Penelope rejecting him (something he expresses in Keep Your Friends Close) at risk of becoming a reality. And then, the musical end with Odysseus begging Penelope to accept him despite what he has become. Like what I said, the outcome will still end up in this moment despite with or no sexual violence. I mean, the suitors wanting to kill Telemachus is enough as a motivation. Ody don't really need that much.

I dunno , I think this would hit harder, rather than "Ahh you saved me from the rapist my husband! Thank you!~😍 " "All for you baby girl~~ 😘"

The gangrape plotline only exists to make Odysseus look good for the audience, making him into the good hero who saves the damsel with zero screentime, and reassures that the suitors are antagonists. But it does also puts Penelope in a position where she has to take Odysseus back, or else she risks being seen as “ungrateful” by the audience. I promise you, if Penelope were to reject Odysseus after he saved her from the suitors, most of the fanbase would despise her for it. Of course, that won’t happen, Penelope will accept Odysseus no matter what he does, cuz that is what her characterization is. She is Odysseus' happy ending, if she rejects him then the story wont have a happy ending.

The sexual violence just isn’t necessary. Especially when Jorge went out of his way to make the relationship between Odysseus and Calypso as vague as possible. There’s no explicit statement in the musical that Calypso assaulted Odysseus, and I’m Not Sorry For Loving You is even depicted in a sympathetic light. That was a deliberate choice. So, why remove and downplay the sexual assault from the original story with Calypso, only to add a sexual assault subplot towards Penelope that wasn’t in the original?

It’s unnecessary. Just let Odysseus commit cruel and ruthless deeds without a "good justification" or feeling bad about it afterward for once.

However, the last saga isnt out yet, so there is a possibility that Jorge have rewritten it. I do hope that he removes it, but at this moment, it looks like it will be in there. Welp, maybe he pulls the rug under my feet with a twist or some sort. We can only wait and see!

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: They sing going to war

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

While serving alongside the human forces during the Torus Campaign I learned much of their strange culture.

Their need to stack foods in elaborate combinations which they call a “Sandwich”, their constant need to play “The Game” without ever explaining what it is unless to tell you that you have lost it, and even their obsession with petting anything within arm’s reach with an almost religious like dedication; but the strangest custom I only witnessed during the final stages of the war.

We had just deployed over the world of Obidon III and were launching a joint ground assault with the human forces. Enemy resistance was expected to be heavy and many would not survive the drop, but command believed that if enough forces reached the surface of the planet they could establish a beachhead and allow the rest of the contingent to be brought in.

During the decent to the planet all I could do was keep my eyes closed and hope beyond hope that we would survive. I was so lost in this trance like state that my friend Septem had to physically smack me on the helmet to get my attention and tell me to turn my radio channel to frequency 13.

I was confused at first since that frequency was being used for our human allies but he insisted that I would not believe what they were doing. So I reset my radio in my helmet to frequency and what I heard was something I had never expected on a battlefield.

They were singing.

The frequency was chalk full of voices in such volume that I had to turn down the volume but it seemed like every single human that was part of the attach was joining in the song. My translator unit was trying to keep up but the sheer intensity of the humans singing was causing it to drop in and out, picking up every other word.

I wanted to listen closer to them but the enemy flak began pounding the outside of our dropship. Each detonation sent the ship rattling side to side violently. I had just retightened my straps when a shell burst just beneath us sending a shockwave through the ship so strong it sent several of my comrades flying from their seats into the opposite wall. They hit the wall hard and did not get back up when their bodies collapsed to the ground.

All I could think about was how this was the moment I was going to die. This was the moment my existence in this universe comes to its conclusion and I return to the dust and atoms of the cosmos. And as I tuned myself to this reality all I could hear were the humans still singing over the radio.

They must have been going through the same amount of enemy fire as he was and yet still they somehow were still able to sing as if nothing was wrong with the world. I got so focused on their singing that I forgot about my worries for such a time that I was startled when the dropship landed with a loud thud against the planet’s surface and the boarding ramp lowered.

The following battle was a grueling six hour run and gun with the enemy as we tried to carve out a safe LZ for reinforcements. I got separated from my unit on more than one occasion and wandered into the human designated areas in the confusion.

To my utter surprise the humans were still singing.

Clad in their blue and gold armor, they broadcasted their voices from their helmet speakers as they advanced street by bloody street. One of them took shelter with me for a time as we prepared to rush a fortified courtyard which housed heavy anti air emplacement. I nodded a greeting to the human who replied in kind, yet their voice never ceased in song. I saw them rush around the corner and take several heavy rounds to their chest, but the shells ricocheted off the armor leaving only scratches on the paint.

I watched in disbelief as this wild singing human leaped over the barricade and slapped a detonation charge on the anti-air weapon before leaping back as it exploded the weapon. They stood in the smoldering flames to take a moment to catch their breath when a sniper’s round from down the street struck them in the head and blew out a large portion of their cranium. It was the first time during the entire battle I had seen a human die but I did not have long to contemplate it as the rest of the humans charged past, still singing, in the direction of the snipers shot.

Another hour of combat and the landing site was finally secured and reinforcements were brought in to take our positions. What was left of the initial landing force were sent back to orbit and recover and regroup from their losses. Out of my people’s forces I was one of twenty soldiers to have survived. I imagined the humans had lost equally as many until the pilot remarked that additional shuttles had been dispatched to carry their force back up. It seemed that despite the intensity of the fighting only three of their warriors had fallen in battle; one of them including the warrior I had watched fall.

I was beyond myself.

These reckless warriors had somehow survived one of the most intense battles the campaign had seen and only lost three of their number.

Once back on the ship the first chance I could I sought them out for an explanation. They were quartered in the lower reaches of the ship, isolated from the other contingents onboard.

Outside their area were two guards still in full armor that initially would not let me through until one of them recognized me from the fighting in the city. I was then led inside and found many of the humans feasting and laughing. Two long rows of tables had been setup facing each other; between them were several fires each with a different animal being roasted over them. At the end of the rows stood three large pyres of wood which held three bodies atop each of them.

As I passed through the humans many ceased their laughter and looked at me, their clouded eyes with suspicion. We made it half way through the throngs when a giant of a human stepped forward and blocked our path. They demanded to know why I had been let it in; going even further to say they will throw me out personally if the answer was not good. The guard who had recognized me said I had witnessed the last moments of one of the fallen and would speak of their deeds. There was a long pause as the large human glared at me, his eyes as cold as the crescent moon of my homeworld.

The human finally relented and let out a loud boastful laugh, clapping me on my shoulders and welcoming me to the feast. Those gathered around cheered and similarly welcomed me now as the ceremony proceeded once more. I could barely say anything as I was seemingly pulled into the celebration. I drank, I ate, I laughed, I even boasted of my own achievements during the battle.

At the height of the feast I was called forward to speak of the final moments of the human soldier I watched die. I learned their name had been Moris Yu, and had served in the human contingent since the beginning of the campaign. I spoke of his final moments, of how he charged the enemy alone and had single handedly destroyed their war machine. I spoke of the snipers bullet laying him low to which all the gathered humans spoke as one “To Odin’s hall he flies.”

With that pyres were set on fire and the bodies slowly turned to ash. I imagine it had some significant ritualistic meaning in human culture but it was beyond me.

After the funeral I asked one of the soldiers the question I had come to them with.

“Why do you sing in battle?”

The human took a long huff from a wooden pipe and blew a cloud of smoke before answering.

“Long ago, my people were raiders and conquerors of the sea.” They began, “Our gods watched over us and should we prove worthy we would be sent to them to join them in their halls and fight alongside them for eternity.”

“There was one warband led by a giant of a man called Osmond Frig. He loved song just as much as he loved fighting, so he made his warriors sing during every fight as it made him happy.”

“They agreed to such silliness?” I asked, to which the human grinned.

“They did after he felled the first three men who laughed at him with a single blow from his axe.” They finished before continuing with their story.

“What was truly surprising was not the sight of these warriors singing, but rather the fact that they were rather good at it. It was said they could make the Valkyries themselves shed a single tear with their songs.”

“Eventually one of the gods, Bragi, noticed Osmond’s warband and took a liking to them. Much like the Valkyries he too was moved by their song and decided to reward them with his patronage. He used ancient magic and made it so as long as the warriors sung they would be impervious to harm of all kinds.”

“So the warband grew in fame and glory as they went conquest to conquest, emerging from battles against impossible odds with nay a scratch on them. First across the northern seas, then across the continent of Europe, and then soon the entire world knew of Osmond; which is when they finally drew the attention of the king of the gods, Odin.”

“Odin watched these powerful warriors and wanted them in his hall for the eternal battle, yet despite every challenge they faced they emerged victorious. No matter what enemy Odin placed in their path or scheme he unleashed on them they refused to fall. Odin knew of Bragi’s patronage and tortured the god to reveal his secret and after seven days and seven nights Bragi told Odin of the spell he had cast and how it could not be undone.”

“But that was all Odin needed to secure his warriors.” The human said with a devil’s grin.

“During the midst of the most recent battle Odin took the form of a mighty warrior and stalked the fields for his prey. He waited for each warrior to catch their breath and cease their song before striking and slaying them, one by one. By day’s end only Osmond remained to fight Odin and though he sang long into the night he too eventually gasped for air and was slain.”

“So that is why you sing?” I asked the human. ‘Because you believe your gods will protect you?”

The human chuckled and nodded to the three pyres. “Did you not say that Moris was only slain after he ceased singing?”

I wanted to counter him with some logic, some reason grounded in reality, but I could not. I left that human area with a profound new perspective of myself in the grand scheme of the universe.

The next time I was in a combat drop my comrades laughed when I began singing. I wasn’t sure if it was good or not, but I hoped that in some way the human god would at least find me amusing and let me live another day.

[girlwithadragonheart]

Leave Me to the Beasts and Bears

Halsin x Female Reader

Summary: Halsin overhears you singing about your struggles as a woman in the world. Comfort ensues

Word Count: 1,274

Warnings: Paris Paloma song, mentions of rape, assault, SA, graphic flashbacks, this fic is very graphic and intense read at your discretion!!! (I love you don't trigger yourself unless you know it's okay) This is a hurt/comfort because I need it

A/N: This song has been looping in my mind for days, and it really highlights womanhood. Also this is my personal experiences all roped together if you don't like it keep scrolling.

BG3 Masterlist

You had been staying with the Grove for quite a while, and no one seemed to mind. You brought light and life to the druids with your music, and you had become a welcome addition to the lovely place. You had found a quiet overlook next to the inner sanctum and often found yourself drawn there for the peace it brought you.

Your fingers danced idly across your lute strings, humming softly to yourself and the surrounding life.

Halsin heard your melodic voice and found himself drawn to you. Tucked just behind you out of sight. Not that it mattered as your eyes fluttered closed.

Cremate me… Deliver me to safety. So that when it’s spent maybe it will be my own.

Scatter ashes… Leave no marker where you plant it. So the hordes will be disbanded as they search on a treasure map for my headstone.

The druid’s brow furrowed as he heard the softness of your voice carrying solemn words. Little did he know what exactly was on your mind.

Leave me to the beasts and bears. I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or request to be buried on top.

Leave me for a day or two, to make sure that I turn blue. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again…

Your throat felt tight. You saw them in your mind’s eye. You felt their hands on your skin, calluses scraping against you, nails digging into your arms. Your knees hit the ground with such force they cracked, and you cried out in pain. No one came. Heavy and hard hands ripped your blouse, exposing your chest for predatory eyes.

I’ll tattoo it, just so they think it’s ruined. And if they think it’s ruined, it’s easier to save. But please hurry, if you really love me, and dispose of me unceremoniously in the waves.

You heard the water lapping at the shore as your chest tightened with that familiar panic. Every time you dreamt about it or someone touched you close enough you were brought back to it again and again for days on end. No matter how far you ran, their eyes would always follow you. Their skin was tainting yours no matter where you went. Chest to chest unwilling, but appeasing.

You remembered their fingers carding through your hair, tugging it roughly from your scalp. You remembered how they put it to their lips and breathed in your scent. 

Leave me to the trees and air, I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or buy cuttings of my priceless locks.

Leave me for two days or three, ‘til my fingertips turn green. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again.

Those rough hands gripped your jaw, forcing your mouth open as silent tears flew down your cheeks. Even if you screamed, no one would hear you. If they did, no one would save you. You were alone. Just the way they preferred.

The other hand traveled to their belt buckle. You heard the metal clanging in your ears as though cymbals were clashing next to your head. It was past the point of warning bells and alarms, you were in it and you wouldn’t get away before… before…

And they will come in such dismay, that they never did discover where I lay. And I will burn, my flesh and form. Screaming the words, “it will never be yours!”

I’ll take the flame over desecration, promise you’ll make all these arrangements. Don’t you dare think it’s overkill!

I wouldn’t wish the watching on anybody, so if for that reason only, swear to me you will!

Halsin watched you stand, and he heard the tears clogging your throat. He watched you scream these words out to the sea, and he felt his own throat close up. Memories of the Underdark and the drow couple started to surface in his mind. Maybe it was the words or the emotions, but what he thought of fondly started to seem less than. He heard you sniffle, and suddenly he felt those restraints on his wrists and ankles again. He felt them touching him, and his mind wanted to trick him into enjoying it. It wanted to appease his captors and draw pleasure where he could, but this… 

He was watching you break, and for the first time it was like looking in the mirror. For the first time he could see someone else breaking and recognize himself in them. 

And you choked up, feeling suffocated by the memory. You’ll never forget what it felt like. What it tasted like. The weight, the heat, the flavor, the intrusion was forever branded on your mind, body, and soul. It would always be there.

Leave me to the beasts and bears. I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or request to be buried on top. 

Leave me for a day or two, to make sure that I turn blue. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again.

It was barely a melody at this point. More a choked whisper as you fell to your knees, lute laying still on the ground.

You felt the phantom soreness of every event, every time your body was used for someone else's desires. You heard every word of pleasure and longing that had ever passed to your ears. You felt their hands as they groped and poked and prodded even when you said no. Thousands upon thousands of strangers touching you. Friends touching you. Family touching you, and you couldn’t make them stop. 

But it’s fine because they love you. No! No more. This is not alright, I’m not alright. I’m not alright, I’m not, but no one understands, and no one will even listen, and I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe!

Strong arms wrap around you, trying to hold you together, but you’re falling apart freely with no air resistance, and the only thing stopping you is the embrace of warmth and strength and the smell of the earth. You didn’t realize you were screaming. You only thought you were crying, but you didn’t realize how much. 

Not until Halsin collapsed next to you and pulled you into his embrace. 

“I know,” he said softly. “I know.”

You felt his salty tears against your neck as you turned into him, arms wrapping around his neck. Your hands clawed at him desperately, trying to breathe in his safety and comfort all the while he tried to take yours. Kindred spirits, twin flames, two souls having walked the same path, and all you could do was hold onto each other for the ride and pray that you would make it to the other side.

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“As am I.” His arms encompass you completely, holding you together. His large hands cover your back almost entirely, as though he’s attempting to shield you from your past with his large frame. You allow yourself this brief respite. After everything you’ve endured, you haven’t recovered, and you aren’t sure that you ever will.

It’s of small comfort to you that someone of Halsin’s size and stature knows the pain you’ve endured and has experienced it for himself. But you don’t know those circumstances. Perhaps he is only so large and muscular to protect what he couldn’t in the past. Perhaps he hopes to protect you in the same way.

Either way you are glad he is here.

“You are safe here,” He told you. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Are you guys okay after that? I'm not. Whew.

Have a good night <3

Tag List: @leiotyp

As always let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Requests are open!

[bcacstuff]

Don't you think Sam should defend her

Well, I can imagine people would think as a first reaction he should, or should say something about it. But then again, if he does, I'm sure the fans who do these stupid things, would immediately see it as him confirming some sort of relationship or something. You know how this fandom, or better said the deranged ones in it are.

He can't do right in this case, he's between a rock and a hard place. We're talking about 2 women, should he address the entire fandom for this? And with that give it perhaps unwanted and more attention then it deserves? What will be the result of that, you might ask yourself. Of course we know there's much more going on in this fandom, but it isn't reserved solely for this fandom:

I've received a link a while back, and still have this article open on one of my tabs in the browser. I had the intention to answer the Anon that sent it to me a few weeks ago, but as there were so many things going on, I didn't want it to get buried by the many other posts.

It's this article:

There are some really good parts in it that can be translated one on one for this fandom, even though the artists in this article are musicians. Already in the first paragraphs you can read:

This summer, norms of pop flipped when musicians started telling off their fans. Leading the pack was Chappell Roan, the 26-year-old breakout star of 2024. In a statement on Instagram, she outlined the “too many nonconsensual physical and social interactions” she had had with fans, including people hassling her family and friends.

An expert view on it:

“The relationship between fans and artists is a power balance,” says Dr Lucy Bennett, a lecturer in journalism, media and culture at Cardiff University. “Sometimes the power can tip back and forth.” Fandom, she explains, is a deeply emotional thing where people can feel a sense of home and belonging. It can lead to an intense connection to the music, something only heightened by the access to artists provided by social media. “But the problem that we have is how fans can forge a direct connection when they’re one among potentially millions that follow the artist. Those artists can’t reach out to every fan online. But to those who aren’t noticed, how does this make them feel? And what lengths may some fans go to get noticed?”

A former deranged fan's experience

Someone who has grappled with this themselves is Emily, a 26-year-old Taylor Swift fan from Idaho. Emily, who asked to be referred to under a pseudonym for fear of being doxed, was once a dedicated Swiftie, spending thousands of dollars on merchandise and concert tickets. During the Lover era of 2019, however, she began to see contradictions in Swift’s image and found her sudden embrace of politics inauthentic and calculated. “I was upset because it seemed the person I thought she was wasn’t real,” she says. She was also put off by the growing toxicity among a fandom that no longer felt like a community. Prior to Swift’s hit album 1989, “Taylor had said that she wasn’t going to interact with fans on social media because one fan might feel more important than the other,” she says. But Swift began doing secret live sessions for fans, found via fan accounts online. “It did exactly what she thought that might,” Emily says. “Fans were suddenly fighting with each other saying, ‘You’re not good enough because you don’t obsess with her on the level I do, or ‘You don’t have as much merch as I do and you don’t know every song like I do.’ It was kind of gross.” Emily became so distraught that she would vent to her friends about her disappointment. “When I look back it now,” she says, “it’s like, wow. I was really deranged. Taylor Swift doesn’t know who the hell I am. She doesn’t care what I think. This is actually a me problem. I needed to step back and realise that.” She cites social media and the 24/7 access to information about Swift as one reason why she became so obsessed with the singer’s life. “I had to get some hobbies outside of discussing Taylor Alison Swift.”

And again the expert's view as an end conclusion

To realign the relationship between fans and artists, Bennett believes that musicians may need to step away from sharing so much of their lives on social media. “But it’s really important that they speak up if they feel that they’re experiencing unacceptable behaviour from the fans,” she adds.

It's a really good read, so if you're interested and have a bit of time, I'd recommend reading the whole article. There is no easy answer to this phenomena or to your question Anon.

PS. To Anon sending me the link a few weeks ago, thank you 🧡. You were right, I found this interesting. I'm sorry it took so long to post it, but it deserves all the attention.

[sengardet]

Beating the heart

Natoya's steps echoed ominously on the cold concrete floor of her private gym. The dim fluorescent lights above cast harsh shadows, illuminating every ripple of her lean, muscular frame. The boisterous fighting champion that stole her sister’s title trembled as Natoya approached; wraps adorned the taller woman's fists. Lana's pale, fragile form exposed and vulnerable, chained to the gym wall. Electrodes snaked from her heaving chest to the nearby ECG monitor playing a desperate rhythm.

Each beep of the monitor was a cruel reminder of her vulnerability, each spike in the green line a testament to her fear. Chains clinked softly as she shifted, her breath shallow and rapid.

"Ready for another round?" Natoya's voice was a low purr, layered with sadistic glee.

Cartilage crunched as Natoya's gloved fist smashed into the pale, trembling flesh of Lana’s chest. The ECG stuttered and Lana's naked body recoiled against its chains, fragile against the cold brick wall behind her. "Look at that precious little heart flutter," Natoya purred, dark eyes flicking between her prey and the wavering green line. "So proud of how big and strong it is, aren’t you? Well, doesn’t seem so strong now..."

"Such a delicate thing you are." Natoya murmured, leaning close enough to feel the heat radiating off Lana's trembling form. THUD, THUD, THUD a few jabs right to the sternum, eyes full of fury aimed at the helpless life fluttering beneath this delicate pink cage. Natoya felt the thrum of Lana's heart through her knuckles, pounding a terrified rhythm as its struggles played a desperate high-pitched song. Natoya's wrapped fist buried up into Lana's solar plexus, perfectly timed with a ragged inhale. The pathetic wheeze of escaping air was music to her ears. Lana twitched and gasped, struggling for breath. Natoya's dark eyes flicked to the ECG, drinking in the erratic flutter of Lana's heart.

Another round of punches followed, deeper and more forceful, aimed at the upper abdomen and timed not only with the breath but Lana’s mighty pulse. Pain exploded through Lana's core as Natoya's fists hammered into her diaphragm and sternum repeatedly. "P-please..." Lana whimpered between desperate gasps. "I can't... breathe..."

"Stop whining, little princess. I thought you were stronger than this!" she mocked -- her next jab stole Lana's pitiful plea away in a breathless yelp. The rhythm of her punches synchronized with the desperate rise of Lana's chest; every inhale met with a punishing blow.

"Your heart is working so hard," she taunted between hits, eyes darting to the monitor. "I wonder how much more it can take." Mercilessly, Natoya continued her assault, captivated by the bio-feedback dancing across the screen as her fists plunged into the billowing diaphragm before her. She reveled in dominating the life-giving cadence of Lana's lungs and heart. Watching the body and inner organs strain erratically at her command sent tingles of arousal through her core.

Back and forth between the heart and lungs, each punch was a calculated move. She was determined to stress Lana's cardiovascular system to its breaking point in a slow and humiliating beatdown.

"That's it," she purred, her voice a velvet dagger. "Give me that struggle."

Punished for her vital signs, Lana's eyes rolled back, her body slacked against the chains, every inch of her screaming for oxygen. But Natoya had no intention of granting it. She continued her assault, jabbing at the vulnerable cardio-respiratory system with relentless precision, ensuring Lana’s lungs never enjoyed a full breath, heart never enjoyed an uninterrupted beat.

Lana's gasps became desperate, her eyes wide with terror as her body convulsed against the chains. Sweat slicked her pale skin, making each muscle twitch more visible, each breath more labored. Her heartbeats turned frantic, a wild staccato that quickened, then slowed—struggling to keep pace with the punishment being meted out.

"That's it," Natoya purred, her voice a dark caress. She drove another punch into Lana's diaphragm, feeling the soft give of flesh as her fist invaded the woman’s guts.

The vitals displayed a chaotic dance of a green line and erratic pulses. Lana's eyelids fluttered, her head lolling forward as consciousness slipped away. Natoya paused, stepping back to admire her handiwork. The once rhythmic beeping of the ECG had devolved into a disjointed cacophony, signaling Lana's body's desperate struggle for survival.

"Almost there," she whispered, her voice dripping with sadistic pleasure.

With a feral growl, Natoya took a step back, her powerful legs coiling with pent-up energy. Lana whimpered, her slender form sagging in the chains, her chest heaving as her oxygen-starved heart fought futilely to keep pace.

"Time to finish this."

Natoya launched herself forward, her foot connecting with brutal precision against Lana's rib cage. The force of the kick drove Lana back against the wall, her ribs yielding to the assault, pressing cruelly against her struggling heart. Another kick followed, then another, each one a calculated strike designed to crush the last vestiges of resistance.

The ECG blared frantically, the peaks and valleys now a chaotic storm. Natoya's final kick landed with a bone-crunching impact, pinning Lana to the wall. The valiant heart within her pliant rib cage gave one last, desperate flutter before the line on the monitor flattened into a continuous, mournful wail.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Come Smell the Roses

Wake Up: Chapter 5

Series Masterlist           Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: This one is a bit more intense. Canon typical violence, attempted mugging, misogynistic language, suggested sexual assault themes (no graphic descriptions of non-con but its slightly implied), swearing, reader is very much a damsel in distress

a/n: We finally meet the Devil! I had a hard time writing Matt in Devil!mode so please give me any feedback you have. As always, likes, reblogs, comments, and requests are incredibly appreciated!

w/c: 2.8k

Matt swiped a club across the temple of the man in front of him, impatient and less than forgiving of the man’s ambition to hook teenagers on drugs. Taking back to the roofs of the kitchen, he crouched and listened—waiting for another cry for help. Soon enough, the scream of a child echoed through the streets and Matt took off. 

First a drug dealer, then an abusive father, then a scummy property manager, then a trigger happy mugger. The line of abhorrent men kept growing, not helping Matt’s anger in the slightest. 

Punch after punch, his rage would not lessen. The emotions in his chest were crashing over him, drowning him, and no amount of devil-ing would pull him up. Taking these monsters off the streets couldn’t save everyone, it couldn’t save you. He gave his hair a tug, the desire to be comforted and the need to hit something until he bled clashing in his mind. How easy it would be to just rip off the suit and ask you to come over. To lie in your arms for hours, letting you stroke his hair and help him block out the rest of the world. 

While he was still wracked with guilt at the idea of taking advantage of your kindness, he needed you. It was so selfish, but he was hooked on the way you made him feel. Throughout all his years, and relations with many many women, he’d never experienced something like this. A dependency on your bubbling laugh and the way you could lift an immense weight off of his chest with a single gesture, like you’d been trained to do just that.

The sound of your smile bleeding into your voice when you were excited. The fact that he could practically feel a pinch on his skin when your brow furrowed in concern at his self-deprecation. The way your constant observations of his behavior made you feel like a mind reader at times. You always knew what he needed, and you gave it no matter the cost. 

Matt cursed himself internally for dragging you into his bullshit. But he was in too deep. He craved you so intensely that no other option held a candle to you. Pulling out his phone, he clenched his jaw. His fingers strained to type in your number, his ears fervently awaiting your voice, but he couldn’t do it. With a roar of frustration, he shut his phone, guilt decidedly outweighing his desire to be touched, loved. 

Growling, he set off in the direction of the bar you and your friends were drinking at. If his damned emotions wouldn’t give him peace, the least he could allow himself was a sliver of comfort. 

Reaching the club, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as he found your heartbeat. Breathing in, he listened as you laughed at a joke one of your friends was telling. Taking a moment to let you wash over his senses. Hearing you squeal as your favorite song came on. Smiling while you and your friends started drunkenly singing, or yelling, along. After hours of pure irritation, letting his lips quirk up felt wonderful. Sitting down on the roof across from the building sheltering you, Matt leaned against the cool bricks and closed his eyes. 

Breathing slowly, his state became almost meditative. Counting each pump of your heart, his heart swelling with every giggle that escaped you. He didn’t deserve you, this much he knew, but damn if he wasn’t tempted to let your voice become the soundtrack of his life. 

While it felt like mere minutes, he was shaken from his haze when he heard you bidding your friends goodnight.

Taking a minute to embrace each of them, you gave your friends a final wave before exiting the club to wait for your Uber. Thinking back, it might not have been the best idea to stand alone on a curb behind a popular bar as a young woman while waiting for your ride home. Men couldn’t be trusted. 

A large, stumbling figure approached you. He could’ve been handsome, if his gaze wasn’t utterly predatory. You shifted uncomfortably, turning your attention away from the man as he undressed you with his eyes. 

“Hey there, baby. Spare a dollar?” His tongue darted out to wet his chapped lips as he took a few clumsy steps in your direction. 

Your footing faltered as you scrambled away from him. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any cash on me. My boyfriend’s just around the corner, actually, I should really be meeting him.” Eyes darting around, you realized with horror that you were completely alone with this man. 

“He ain’t such a great boyfriend if he left you unattended, is he, princess?” Your stomach clenched, the disgusting pet name reminding you of another vile creature from your past. 

“He didn’t leave me alone. I think I’ll be going to find him now.” You backed away from the guy as hastily as you could, but he grabbed your arm. “Hey!” You shrieked, struggling against his painful grasp. 

“Don’t worry, princess. I’m sure your boyfriend won’t mind if you give me that expensive purse of yours. I probably need it more than you do, don’t ya think” He sneered at you, shoving you into an alley. Landing on your tailbone rather harshly, you cried out and began crawling away from him. 

“Please! Just leave me alone! I don’t have any money, I swear!” Tears were welling in your eyes as you cursed yourself for forgetting your pepper spray. 

Desperately looking around for any sort of weapon, you grabbed a shard of glass from a nearby broken bottle and sliced at the man’s legs as he ambled towards you. As the piece made contact, the man howled with rage, grabbing your arm and twisting it behind your back until you dropped the makeshift weapon. The man shoved you against the alley wall, your head making a sickening conk as it collided with brick. He gripped your neck and snarled. 

“You little bitch. You’ll pay for that.” He spit at you as you clawed at his hands, desperate for air. 

You pleaded with any available cosmic forces, begging them to not let this happen. The edges of your vision darkened before a voice sounded at the end of the alley. 

“Let her go. Now.” The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen growled at the man holding you, stalking towards him murderously. The man scoffed, barely glancing his way before doing a double take. His hands fell away from your throat and you dropped to the ground, gasping. 

“Shit, man, I don’t want any trouble. Just trying to make a living.” 

“Funny, I don’t remember society deciding that assaulting women was an acceptable form of employment. Step the fuck away from her or, so help me, you’ll feel nothing but agony for the rest of your miserable fucking life.” The man in black gripped a metal club in one hand, pressing towards your attacker as you clumsily scrabbled away from the pair. 

“It won’t happen again, man. I swear!” The perpetrator implored. 

“Lie.” Daredevil snapped, lunging for the man and throwing him against the wall. You covered your eyes, your head was pounding and nausea grew in your gut. The sounds of a struggle rang in your ears before you heard the loud thump of a body hitting the ground. 

You peeked through your fingers, seeing your attacker lying on the pavement. “Is he dead?”

��Unconscious.” The Devil approached you cautiously, hands clenched as if holding back from trying to help you. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

A sob broke through your lips, cracking Matt’s heart clean in half. “Yah, he…um…he—“ 

“Hey, it’s alright. You don’t need to relive it. Where are you hurt?” He crouched in front of you, far enough to not make you uncomfortable. (Little did you know just how much he ached to hold you, to apologize for taking so long to intervene.) 

“Hit my head, a—a bit. And m-my back.” You stammered, panting with residual fear. 

“Shit. Ok. Do you have someone who can take you to the hospital?” 

“No! I’m ok. No hospital necessary! I’ll be alright.” You started to clamber to your feet, keening sideways before your savior caught you. Strangely, the way he held you felt familiar. Despite not knowing him, you didn’t feel the urge to pull away—in fact, you leaned into his embrace slightly, appreciating the support as your vision swam. 

“Head wounds aren’t something to mess around with. I can call an ambulance if you’d like. You should really—“ 

“Please don’t!” You wailed, grasping the fabric of his suit and looking at him with wild eyes. “The paramedics, they’ll want to know what happened and I—I can’t…” you broke off into sobs, falling against his chest as your legs gave out. 

“Ok, hey, you’re ok. If you won’t go to a hospital, I have a friend who can look you over. I’ll give you her number, but you have to promise to call her, ok?” You nodded, regretting it immediately as your head pounded. “Alright. Let’s get you a cab home. She can meet you there.”

You halted as he helped you out of the alley, looking at him with intense gratitude. “Thank you. You saved my life.” 

“Anytime, sweetness.” He squeezed your arm before allowing you to step into the cab. “Promise me you’ll give her a call.” 

“Promise. Thank you.” 

With a curt nod, he gracefully scaled the side of the building and disappeared. 

The cab ride was immediately torturous. Your nausea was steadily building and your head pounded with the worst ache you’d ever felt. Feeling tears well up in your eyes once again, you arduously pulled out your phone, calling the one person who would make you feel safe again. 

It took two rings for Matt to answer. “Hey, angel. Everything ok?” 

The overwhelming concern laced in his voice broke your resolve. “No, I’m not ok, Matty and I—I need you, please.” You choked out through tears. 

“Oh love, what happened? Are you at your place?” Matt sounded breathless, like he was on a run or something. 

You sniffled miserably. “Not there yet. Will be soon. Someone hurt me, Matty. He—he tried to—“ Your ragged breaths cut off your explanation. 

“It’s alright, angel. Just breathe. I’m on my way. Did you want me to stay on the phone with you?” 

“Please don’t hang up.” You bawled. 

“I won’t, love. I’m here. Right here, ok? Take a deep breath for me, sweetness. I’ll be with you soon.” 

At fucking last, he reached his apartment, he ripped off his suit, throwing on civilian clothes before throwing a few things in a bag and sprinting for your place. 

Getting you settled safely in your apartment was an endeavor. You’d somehow made it inside but went to the wrong floor. When he found you on the floor above your own, you were confused and in pain. He’d comforted you a bit, having to bring you away from the brink of a panic attack when you realized you couldn’t remember where your keys were. After you had calmed down marginally, he had scooped you up and carried you inside. 

While the pair of you waited for Claire, Matt’s shame consumed him as he heard you writhe and moan on the couch in agony. Your memories of the night had faded, though your anxiety would not fade. Your brain knew something had happened to you, but your injury made the thoughts of the attack murky. Matt’s jaw clenched as a fresh spiral of blame hit him—you were hurt because he wasn’t there. He has failed you. 

“Ma-Matty..?” You whined through gritted teeth. Matt, who hadn’t even realized he’d been impatiently pacing, was at your side in an instant. 

“I’m right here, pretty girl. What do you need?” 

“Jus’ you. Please. Don’ feel good. ” Your shaking hand limply grabbed at his shirt. He cradled your head and lovingly placed you across his lap. You curled into him,  with a mumble. “‘M cold, ‘nd tired. Can we sleep yet?”

“Not yet, sweetness. Claire is coming to talk with you, then you can sleep, ok?” 

Your breath rattled around a stifled sob, but you trusted him. “M’kay.” 

“You’re being so strong for me, angel. My good, strong girl. I’m so sorry it hurts.” He stroked a hand over your back, drawing soft patterns in your skin. You relaxed ever so much under his touch, melting into him bit by bit.

After what felt like hours, Claire arrived. Despite your exhaustion and trauma-laced evening, you were your sweet self as Claire examined you. A little out of it and not as talkative, but polite and obedient. Claire quickly decided you were her preferred patient. Giving your shoulder a squeeze and wishing you well, the nurse tugged Matt into your kitchen to give him instructions for your care. 

“I know this won’t be a shock to either of you, but she’s got a moderate concussion. She’s clearly in a great deal of pain so I’ll leave some meds here for that as well as for the nausea. Cold cloths on her forehead might help until the meds kick in. If she loses more of her memory or starts exhibiting mood swings that are abnormal, call me. You know as well as I do that stress will make the injury worse. She’s clearly shaken up so if you think she needs more help, call me.” 

“I will, Claire. Thank you. I’m sorry to have to call you.” 

Claire gave the lawyer a hug, stepping back and glancing at your form sadly. “She’s sweet. And good for you. Take care of her, but don’t forget about yourself, yah?” 

Matt gave a dry chuckle. “I’ll try my best. Thank you for helping her. She means a lot to me.”

“I can tell.” Claire looked at Matt with a small smile on her face. With a squeeze of his arm, she headed out. 

Filling a glass with water, he returned to you, shaking out the appropriate pills and taking note of the time. Beside him, your breaths deepened as you nodded off. Stroking your cheek lightly, Matt whispered, “Meds first, sweet girl. Then you can sleep.” 

Your brow pinched as you tried to understand what he meant, but you took your pills without hesitation. Kneading at your face, you tried to get the ache to dissipate somewhat but had no success. 

“Careful, sweetness.” Matt pried your hands away from your face, fingers trailing lightly over your forehead which made you whimper and lean into his touch. “C’mon. Let’s go get some sleep.” 

Nodding as stiffly as you could, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he hoisted you from the couch. Once securely tucked into bed, Matt turned to retrieve your water and pills, but your hand shot out to grab his wrist. “Where ‘re you goin’?” Your voice cracked with worry. 

“I’m just going to move some things around. I’ll be right back.” Matt promised, petting your hair cautiously. 

“Leavin’?” The smell of salt wafted towards him as your throat closed around a new wave of tears. 

“Not leaving, sweetness. I’m still right here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Need you, Matty. Don’ want anything else. Please.” Gripping his wrist tightly, you tugged him towards the bed. Regret welled in his own throat. If you knew what he was, that he hadn’t saved you, you wouldn’t want him. This much he knew. 

Matt shook his head to clear the dark thoughts. You needed him right now, self-hatred could wait. “Ok, sweet girl. I’m coming.” As gracefully as he could with you still latched onto him, he slid under the covers next to you. Nestling into his chest with a content sigh, your breaths deepened. If it wasn’t for his amplified senses, he might not have heard your dazed whisper. 

“Love you, Matty.” 

“I love you too, angel.” He murmured after you were asleep, pressing a kiss to your head and securing his arms protectively around you. “And I’m sorry.”

Waking up to a pounding headache, you sighed. Matt was still knotted around you, taking the edge off of the horrid night you'd had. As you turned over to relieve pressure in your head, a sound ran through your mind.

“Anytime, sweetness.” 

God, you loved when he used that name. In sleep, Matt pulled you closer to him, his face ruffling through your hair. A smile graced your lips as his protective embrace sparked a sense of deja vu. Where had you experienced…

Oh my god. Oh my god. Your frazzled mind finally began to piece together the strange familiarity you’d felt when the Devil had rescued you. Your eyes widened and you gasped almost inaudibly. Matt groaned softly, nestling in closer to you. Your throat clenched with emotion.

Matt was Daredevil. And he’d saved your life. 

I hope you enjoyed! I am writing the final chapter of this fic as we speak (there are 8 total so you still have some content coming, don't worry.) If anyone has ideas for one-shots or future fics in this verse, please send them to me! I'd love suggestions.

Taglist: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle @sweetbee0108 @dark-night-sky-99 @fallen-angels2213 @will-delete-this-later-probably @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @vernon-dursley

[modern-inheritance]

I'm just out of the loop enough that I've heard of Epic, but I have no clue where/what to look up to experience it myself, what do I search?

Oh boy oh boy oh boy OH BOY! 😁

SO! You can listen to the songs on Spotify or purchase them on iTunes OR you can listen to them all for free on YouTube! Jorge “Jay” Rivera-Herrans is the creator of EPIC and also the voice of Odysseus and he started this journey by documenting what he was doing on TikTok and YouTube, and actually got most of the cast by auditioning them on said platforms, so he’s been very generous and lovely all around in making EPIC accessible to everyone! His YouTube channel is under his name Jorge Rivera-Herrans. His shorts and vids that are not the song releases are full of amazing information about the music, the processes he went through, previous drafts, motifs, Easter eggs, all sorts of amazing and fun stuff that can make the second listen of the musical very rich.

You came in at a wonderful time though anon! The final ‘saga’ aka concept album of EPIC released in the end of December 2024! A majority of the cast came together on the actual island of Ithaca, the home that Odysseus spends his journey trying to get back to, and had a watch party of the songs and animatics that Jay commissioned! You can watch it below! I will, however give a strong warning, that one of the songs, “Hold Them Down,” in the final saga, while absolutely beautifully sung, deals with planning sexual assault by the Suitors. The animatic goes uh…a bit too hard in my opinion. I suggest to anyone watching this that they simply close their eyes for that song and just listen to it, as the imagery is definitely NOT just allusions to gates and hunted game animals.

The cast is wonderful and Jay is so very warm and just EXCITED to share this creation with the world, and is very clearly so appreciative of his audience and the community that has sprung up around EPIC. The release livestreams that came with the sagas before the final one are so heartfelt and he definitely cries more than once on those while thanking everyone. And every time, when Spotify hits a milestone of listens and iTunes ranks the albums, even if it’s an hour or so after the stream when this man has clearly not slept in 3 days, he sends out a short thanking everyone.

ANYWAY! Yeah! EPIC is amazing. I love it. I love doing rewrites for Inheritance Cycle/Modern Inheritance. One day I will indeed upload me singing my version of Legendary as a slightly squeaky voiced smol Arya. And one day I might just upload my attempt to sing the entire show all on my lonesome. But for now.

Go listen to EPIC. And if you like to have your audio accompanied by visuals, there are oodles canoodles and toaster strudels of animatics of these songs, as the community is so friggin TALENTED! Gigi, wolfythewitch, Mircsy, anniflama (um…there’s interesting things anniflama accidentally ignited in the community lmao), there’s so many out there.

Enjoy! 😁🫡

[dinneronvenus]

Follow The Leader

⟡ kishibe ༝ fem reader (private sector devil hunter)

⟡ inspired by the song “follow the leader” by magdalena bay and companion missions in silent hill

⟡ tags: fluff, angst, age gap (20’s reader + 50’s kishibe), gentle kishibe, blood, violence, near-death experience, kishibe has worked with her once before, stubborn reader, reader gets mean to hide that she’s scared

⟡ synopsis: kishibe is dispatched to take out a devil that’s been terrorizing a town in a smaller district, a simple assignment that gets complicated when he finds another hunter shares his target

⟡ note: I have no idea if there’s a hot spring in chuo city…. I made that up

“Wolf devil, huh? Only in the sticks.”

Kishibe spoke to the trees as he started into the forest that surrounded the village. Trudging in the direction the locals had pointed him to as the last sighting of his quarry, he lit a cigarette and let the sound of sticks breaking under his boots serenade him. After what seemed like a long stretch, he started to hear howling from the east and took off in that direction.

The stench of rotting meat hit him hard, the air was thick with the history of carnage. The smoke of the extra strong cigarettes wasn’t enough to make a difference. He walked for another ten minutes through the bloody miasma before coming upon a large, sprawling, dilapidated house—source of the assault on his senses.

Time for the big bad wolf to meet an old mad dog, he thought as he crept through long grass alongside the back of the structure. It was built strangely: facing away from the small town and towards the mountains as if meant to emphasize the exiled location. With two floors to the main home and multiple sections, it offered him a challenging game of hide and seek under the full moon.

Air made humid by a mixture of rotting wood and human remains pressed down on him as he hoisted himself inside through a window. He steadied himself, let his eyes adjust to the darkness, and listened hard for any sign of the devil. Bug song and leaves rustling gave background noise to the silence; a faint whimper cut through it like a razor.

Kishibe explored the home in search of whatever made that sound, caution putting a slow and steady pace into his every move. He was more concerned about falling through the floorboards or stepping in a pile of something than he was about running into the wolf devil. Stopping every so often to listen for the sound, it began to get louder as he walked up the stairs.

The scene of carnage before him when he arrived at the top of the stairs was its own picture of Hell. Walls coated in viscera to the point of scabbing, a complex anatomy puzzle created by the remains of victims strewn across nearly every surface, and that ominous whimpering noise had turned into a low drone of death throes from those not lucky enough to have been torn apart properly.

Following the sound, he rounded a corner of the long hallway and started to check the rooms lining it. Finding more scenes from Hell or broken locks on each door until he came to a one he could hear grunting through. Tired of the broken locks, he decided to kick this one open.

The sudden crack and crash pulled you back to consciousness. You looked up meekly at him standing there with his weapon drawn, looking far too clean. You extended your arm to push yourself up which caught his attention. He walked up to you, weapon still ready and crouched closer to get a better look at your face. You were already a beautiful corpse to him, until you coughed and asked if he had something to drink. All the cold fierceness in his eyes melted away when he realized you were still alive.

“This is going to burn,” He pulled his flask out of his pocket, unscrewed it and held it to your mouth. “But it’ll help keep you calm so you don’t go into shock.” You let the liquor work itself into your mouth as he tilted the flask against your lips.

“Doesnt burn as bad,” you coughed and tried to prop yourself up again, succeeding this time. “As bad as the scratches from the wolf devil.”

“I didn’t take you as a small town girl, shame about your neighbors.” He was reaching to investigate your wounds and a minute went by when it clicked what he meant by that.

“Can’t take me for something I’m not, old man. I came here to kill it.”

“And how’d that go?”

You kissed your teeth at the insult he was attempting to add to your injuries. The liquor was working in full swing now, dulling your pain and making it easier to breathe. He was closing the deepest wounds on you with a vial of liquid stitches, starting at a gash on your collarbone and a trio of them on your side where the devil had gotten a good connection.

“Not great… but I didn’t fail.”

“It almost took you with it.”

“Keyword: almost. I shouldn’t even,” you grunted in pain as he held the last deep wound closed to give the liquid stitches time to seal it up. “…Be here right now… must’ve been passed out when the extraction party came to collect its body.” You flinched at his touch as he continued to hold your skin together.

A sour look painted your face and you turned your head away from him, thinking about how pathetic you must’ve looked to have been left for dead and how much hassle wrangling payment would be if your employer thought you died.

“Be still, or these are going to pop open again.”

A grumbling “hmph” escaped your lips as you resigned to letting this jaded old man patch you up. It suddenly dawned on you how weird it is that he was here at all.

“Hey, what are you doing out here anyway?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I was sent to kill the wolf devil, alas some punk beat me to it. Second time that’s happened.”

He was referring to the first time you two had met. Both of you sent to handle a pack of insect devils, this time purposely, making bets on who would kill what first. He would be lying if he said you didn’t impress him that night. Your moves were all power, speed, and brutality that was so hard to come by in someone your age, let alone a woman. By the time the night was over, you’d handled most of the pack yourself and he owed you a few thousand yen and dinner. Recounting the memory made the right side of his mouth twitch into a small smirk. He was pulled from the fond memory by the sound of a distant howl.

“I thought you said you killed that thing.” His entire demeanor shifted. Realizing he’d have to protect you and kill your quarry.

“I-I did,” fear stuck your voice to your throat. “I don’t know what the fuck that noise could’ve been.”

The howling doubled up, then tripled, and it was getting closer. When it dawned on kishibe that the wolf devil had given birth to cubs, he scooped you into his arms without saying anything and started downstairs, hoping the threat wouldn’t be able to smell your fresh blood through all the old blood, part of him knew better so he picked up the pace. You clutched him, realizing in that moment just how strong he was as you felt his well-built back and chest.

“Pretty strong for a senior citizen…” you made the comment under your breath, thinking he’d not be able to hear you.

“If you keep calling me old, I’m going to use you as bait,” he said it jokingly at first but then he realized his best bet at killing the cubs would be to do just that. He started making his way through the house, retracing his steps to a storage room he’d found on his way inside that had a great choke point for him to exploit.

“Actually, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. It’s the best way to make sure these things don’t get the jump on us,” He said as he sat you in the farthest corner of the room, using its small maze-like shelves to force a route for the devils to follow that would lead them right to him, and you.

“You’re fucking insane! You think I’d let you do this?” As if you had enough blood in your body to stop him. Defying your reality was normal though, and you started to get up and move towards the door. Gravity seemed to turn itself up though, and you swayed hard with no control over your legs. Strong arms caught you and a rough hand softly pulled your chin up, where you met kishibe’s black eyes with your own. Wordlessly, he asked you to trust him.

“Okay, I’ll do it. You’re the only chance I’ve got.”

You let him put you back in the corner, grateful for the softness of the rolled up cloth tarps stored there. The cacophony from the pack’s approach grew louder and louder. As they breached the room for the promise of a meal, they were met with the unbridled violence of Kishibe’s assault.

“Young animals always take the bait,” he said his comment on their nature more to himself than you. “I love it. So predictable.”

He tore them to shreds in such a manner that made you almost think he was showing off for you. The thought amused you, but not for long. You were getting sleepy, body heavy from the longest night of your life. You began to drift off, head resting on your shoulder. The sounds of horror fading away.

Tapping on your face slowly brought you back to consciousness. Opening your eyes just a little, you saw his concerned face inches from yours. Flecks of blood littered his face like freckles. Relief came over him as you blinked.

“I thought you went and died on me,” his voice was soft as he picked you up again, this time with more care. The two of you finally got out of that hell hole and into the open field of tall grass that surrounded it. The moonlight shone on your face, and despite everything, he remembered how pretty you are and how he had to push that thought out of his mind when you’d met. Now he was able to let it linger.

“Now, will you try to stay awake?”

“Yeah, I’ll try.” You said weakly, one arm draped around his neck and the other resting on your stomach. “Can’t m-make any promises though.”

He realized he needed to keep you talking to keep you alive.

“What’s your favorite food?”

“Steak… or shrimp pasta…”

He wanted to laugh at your answer’s simplicity. He smiled freely since he knew you couldn’t see him do it, didn’t want you to know he enjoyed this.

“Do you drink?”

“Yeah… not, not the way you do,”

“Hey…” he sounded almost hurt. “Drink of choice?”

“Sweet red wine,” your voice perked up a bit. A sign that relaxed him somewhat. He’d be able to make it back to the village with you alive.

“When I take you out to dinner, where do you want to go?”

Silence. You weren’t sure if you heard the words right. Maybe you were dying for sure. Darkness edged your vision, so you closed your eyes. Sleep sounded so good.

“Hey, answer me.” The pace of his footsteps quickening as much as possible without him moving fast enough to jostle you too much. “And look at me when you do.”

“What?” You snapped weakly, pain and exhaustion putting a knife’s edge on your voice. You looked up at him as he looked down at you, the moon big and shiny behind him, stars littering the sky. You realized he was attractive, and not just for an old man. His ashy blond hair was bleached by the moonlight and his cheekbones caught the light piercing the darkness of the trees every so often. Despite him not necessarily liking that tone, he was relieved to hear it. If you have the energy to be upset with him, you have the energy to make it the last mile back. Plus looking into your eyes as they reflected the moon, with you against his chest sent a feeling through him that felt so natural and warm. A feeling he’d not had in years, and wasn’t ready to let go of just yet.

“When I take you out to dinner, where do you want to go?” He spoke more evenly and even put some sweetness into his gruff voice.

You sighed, closing your eyes for a pause before resuming looking at him.

“Gyuan Ginza,” your answer was so matter-of-fact.

“That a steakhouse?”

“Mhm, best in Tokyo. Plus there’s a great hot spring spa in Chuo City too.”

Unbeknownst to you, the two of you had arrived at the back gate of the town’s small hospital. Your eyes closed again and this time, he didn’t make a fuss. He just held you a little tighter.

“I’ll take you there, too.”

[hua-mo-jin-is-a-cutie]

this is the only social media website where I feel like I can talk about this without getting hated by teenagers with no media literacy, but I watched (pirated) Hazbin Hotel. And while I'm still very critical of Viv herself and the decisions she's made about her staff and her public statements and her past actions, some of which are very gross, for what it's worth, I think Hazbin is alright.

There are things I'd do differently sure, but it's like... aggressively average. The music is hit or miss, with mostly catchy tunes accompanied by lyrics that often made me cringe a little by how they already feel like outdated references to current slang. I also really don't enjoy when they have a big musical number come out of nowhere and have other characters acknowledge that they're singing. It really takes away from the musical numbers themselves. it's like musical writing 101 to NOT do that.

I know this is something people tend to criticize, but I'll be honest I like most of the character designs. They have fairly distinct silhouettes and it's kinda what drew me in enough to watch it in the first place. I'm particularly fond of Nifty. I do think some of them are a bit too complex, too busy to be super appealing, and must be hell to animate. I also think there's not really much cohesion in character designs of the world other than color, and even that's a stretch. I wish we'd at least been given some sort of reason in the show that some demons are furries and others aren't.

The animation is pretty nice, though the camera movement tends to make it a bit hard for my eyes to focus when there's a lot going on.

I've seen a lot of people complain about the pacing and while I agree that things are moving too fast, that we need time to get to know these characters and this world and earn these, what are supposed to be, hard hitting moments. I also acknowledge that I like fast pacing. I want it to slow down, but not astronomically, just a smidge.

I'd say the writing is also hit or miss. Sometimes it's got me fairly entertained, but other times it's making me uncomfortable and not on purpose. Again, slang that will quickly become or already is irrelevant is a major issue for me.

Contrary to what I've seen many people saying, I actually thought episode 4 was handled decently enough. Honestly the pacing is really the only thing holding it back for me. It doesn't feel like it's glorifying or romanticizing sexual abuse or domestic violence. It frames Valentino as the abuser he is when it's most important, even when he is a bumbling idiot in other scenes. Scenes of abuse between angel and Val are taken seriously enough. I wasn't a huge fan of the song Poison, but I also don't think it's romanticizing SA. I mean it literally ends with Angel sobbing on the floor so... I dunno how anyone came to that conclusion. There are times when the show jokes about sexual assault which I do think is distasteful and is one of my gripes with the writing overall, however when it comes to the topic of angel and val, it's handled well enough.

I'm interested in seeing where the plot goes with how episode 6 ended even with it's flaws. It's going in an interesting direction so far and I think the music of that episode was pretty good, calling back to the first episode's song with Adam in a clever way.

So overall I'd give Hazbin like a 6/10. It's fine, but it's got flaws. I'd like to see the kinks ironed out in season 2 and have Viv acknowledge some of her mistakes or at least take criticism well for once.

Anyway, stan Nifty, she's best girl.

[dixonsdarkelf]

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Eight

Masterlist

AO3 link Wattpad link

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family & bestie (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, nightmares, references to being held at gunpoint, allusion to being tied up

Word count: 2.7k

The wine didn’t keep the nightmares at bay. In fact, I’m sure it made them worse. It was the same as last night, but there was a little more clarity this time. I could feel my hands above my head and a crushing weight on my body. The surface I was laying on was hard and cold, but I couldn’t tell what it was. Then it was the same—the fuzzy vision and the taste of metal and gunpowder being shoved into my mouth before I screamed.

I woke up on the floor hoping I hadn’t screamed out loud this time and woken Daryl again. I just laid there on the floor, waiting to see if I would hear my door open. After a moment, it did. The humiliation I had felt from the same situation last night came creeping back as I sat up and looked at him over the bed.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, pulling myself back to my feet and steadying myself on the bed. The hangover headache was already starting.

“Ya ok?” I was taken aback by his question.

“Umm, yeah, I think so. My head’s pounding, but I’m alright.” I could make out his features in the moonlight coming through my window—that messy mop of chocolate brown hair, his toned arms, his stoic but kind face, and those beautiful blue eyes. He was like a painting with how beautiful he was. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to get wrapped up in his arms and tell him just that. To get lost in those pools of blue and never find my way out.

“Ya hit your head?” His gorgeous half-asleep, half-awake voice was so good at pulling me back to reality. I was surprised he was asking so many questions.

“No, I think it’s just the hangover setting in. I’m so sorry, again. And I’m sorry in advance because this is probably going to keep happening. That’s how it was before I got here. You don’t have to keep checking on me, really.”

“A scream ’n a crash usually don’t mean nothin’ good in this world,” Daryl said.

“You really don’t have to keep coming in. I feel bad enough for waking you, let alone making you feel like you need to check on me,” I replied. I climbed back into bed, feeling the slight dampness of the sheets from the night sweats that had plagued me in my sleep.

“No promises.” I rolled my eyes slightly and rolled over, my back facing him and the door. I heard the door close, but not all the way, stopping just before it was latched.

“Daryl, can you close the door?” I shouted over my shoulder. I didn’t hear anything, nor did he come back. Not having the energy to get up, I huffed a “whatever” under my breath before closing my eyes and trying to fall back asleep. A couple of minutes later, as I was starting to drift off, I heard the door open again, the sound of something being set on my dresser, and the door closing, this time all the way. I rolled over enough to look back over my shoulder to see what it was.

There was a small glass of water on the dresser, accompanied by what looked like a bottle of Tylenol.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When I woke a few hours later, the sun had just risen, and I could hear birds outside my window, sitting on the ledge and chirping little songs to each other. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and yawned. I propped my head up, resting it on my hand to look out the window. There were two small chickadees perched outside my window with their backs to me. They were chirping back and forth at each other, and I wondered what their relationship was like—if they were family, if they were members of the same flock. Maybe siblings, maybe lovers.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and pulled myself up. Today, I was going to start seeing patients, and though I could still feel the hangover headache, I was going to have to push through. I walked over and grabbed some clothes out of a dresser drawer—a pair of black shorts, a black plaid button-up crop top, and the leg holsters for my gun and my knife--and got dressed. Even when my weapons weren’t in their respective holsters, having them on made me feel cool, like an apocalyptic video game character.

I leaned forward and tossed my hair over my head, brushing through it gently with my fingers before grabbing it and tossing it back, tying it up into a high ponytail. The glass of water and Tylenol were still sitting on the dresser, right where he had left them. I picked up the glass and swirled it gently in my hand, smiling. Such a small and kind gesture from such a rugged and stoic man made me swoon. I popped a couple of Tylenol out of the bottle and threw them back into my mouth, swigging back some water with them.

“I’da loved a kiss on the forehead, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t the cutest shit I’ve ever seen,” I said to myself, grabbing the Tylenol bottle and putting it in my pocket. I tossed back the rest of the water, feeling extra dehydrated from the hangover. I still hadn’t acclimated to being in a place where I could drink water whenever I needed to, which led me to often feel dehydrated.

I went downstairs and placed the meds on the counter and the glass in the sink. I planned to quickly make coffee and grab something to take with me to the infirmary to eat. I had informed the other residents that they could come by and see me today if they wanted a checkup or anything looked over. I got the coffee pot going and rummaged through the cupboard, grabbing a can of peaches and a fork out of a drawer and chucking them in my bag.

Once the coffee was done, I poured myself a mug and put the pot back in the machine to keep it warm in case Daryl wanted any. I took the cup with me to the front door, setting it down to put my boots on, but I had an idea. I pulled my notebook and a pen out of my bag and ripped a page out of the book. I decided to leave a little flirty note to thank him and wish him luck on his hunting trip. I half-expected to see it in the trash later, but I didn’t care.

Mornin’ sunshine

Thanks for the water and meds :)

Good luck on your trip

Sorry your good luck charm can’t come with

Try not to get hurt

Him and a couple of the other guys were going to be gone for about a week, is what Rick had told me. I was worried, yes, but I knew Daryl could handle himself. Plus, who would come check on me every time I fell out of bed in the middle of the night? I set the note on the counter by the coffee pot and went back for my boots, slipping them on and grabbing my mug as I headed out the front door, careful to shut it quietly.

The air was cool, and there was dew on the grass that captured the light of the now-risen sun, causing it to sparkle like glitter. I rubbed my arms to warm them, not expecting it to be so chilly. Lights were starting to come on in houses as people woke up and started their morning routines. I wondered if any of them had nightmares too, painful memories that interrupted their peaceful sleep every single night. I was envious at the thought, having not had a single night of uninterrupted sleep in months.

I flipped the lights on in the infirmary, setting my bag down on a table off to the side. I spent some time organizing things and labeling draws and cabinets with a pad of sticky notes I found. I soaked some scalpels and other small tools in a peracetic acid solution and set out some things I’d most commonly be reaching for, like gauze, padding, medical tape, alcohol wipes, etc.

I took some time to write and have my coffee and peaches before people started coming. Michonne came by first and brought Judith, and she immediately began teasing me about the night before.

“Did your big, strong, handsome man at home help you get into bed?” I scoffed as she held Judith on her lap, facing me so I could examine her.

“No,” I drawled out, “but he did make sure I didn’t fall and break my neck. I was so dizzy, I almost couldn’t see. Don’t let me drink again.” She smirked.

“How do you feel now?” she asked. Judith let out a sweet little giggle, and I couldn’t help but giggle along with her. She was doing great at holding still while I looked in her eyes, ears, etc.

“Better. A very friendly archer left some water and painkillers in my room when I was asleep,” I said, turning around to grab a stethoscope off the back counter. I opened a pack of alcohol pads and sanitized the whole thing before placing it in my ears.

“What?” Michonne practically shouted. I shushed her, and she lifted Judith’s shirt enough that I could listen to her heart and her breathing, both of which sounded perfect. After I had taken the stethoscope out, she continued. “That’s so nice. He really is a good man. Y’know, he was the first to feed Judith after she was born.”

“Huh?” I could feel myself melting into a puddle at the thought of burly, rough Daryl comforting a tiny newborn.

“I wasn’t there at this time, but I’ve heard the stories from Rick and Carl. Lori, Rick’s wife and Carl’s mother, passed away giving birth to Judith. There was no formula at the prison they were staying in at the time, so as soon as Daryl heard they would need formula for her to survive, he immediately took off on a run, talking about how they weren’t going to lose another person,” she explained, looking down at Judith as she talked, “Judith was crying incessantly, and when they came back from the run, Daryl took her from Carl right away and started rocking her, trying to calm her down, then took the bottle to feed her. And it worked. And he nicknamed her Lil’ Ass Kicker.”

I felt my heart swell and the butterflies in my stomach return as I pictured Daryl with little newborn Judith, her all swaddled up in a blanket and him rocking her back and forth, calling her cute names and telling her it was all going to be all right before giving her a bottle. I felt a warming in my chest.

“Michonne, do not sit here and tell me that the man I’m crushing on adores babies because I will lose it,” I gushed, “him dropping everything to go get damn baby formula…that’s so sweet. I am not well.” I tested Judith’s reflexes as the final step. “Everything looks and sounds fine. I saw some diaper rash cream in one of these drawers, let me give it to you in case you don’t have any.” I stood up to grab the tube out of its drawer.

There was a faint knock at the door, and I passed the tube to Michonne as I went past her and opened it. Carol was standing outside, waiting for her turn.

“Mornin’,” she said.

“Mornin’. Gimme like two seconds to finish up & I’ll get you,” I replied. She nodded as I shut the door. I turned to Michonne. “My next victim is here,” I joked, “do you need anything else from me?”

“No. Thank you for checking on Judith,” she thanked, lifting the baby up to rise from her chair.

“It’s what I’m here for,” I assured. I opened the door for her, and she slid out past Carol, saying hello as they did. I let Carol in past me and closed the door again. “You can sit in that chair there.”

“We haven’t gotten to talk much. How are you getting along with everyone?” she asked. I sat across from her, grabbing the tool to look into her eyes and ears.

“So far so good. Everyone’s really nice and welcoming,” I explained, holding the light to her eyes, “I feel like I actually fit in here.” I checked her ears and had her hold her arm out so I could check her pulse. She paused while I did that before continuing.

“Is there anyone you’re favoring in particular?” Carol wondered. I peered up at her over the top of my glasses, blushing, and the look on her face told me she already knew the answer.

“Which one of them told you? Cause they’re gonna have to square up when I’m done here,” I said, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“No one did. I may have overheard Glenn and Maggie talking about it,” she confessed.

“Well, I’ll have to tell them to pipe down then.” I scooted to the side so I could test her reflexes, turning to grab another alcohol wipe for my stethoscope when I was done. There was silence between us while I listened to her heart and checked her breathing.

“Daryl came and talked to me before he left,” Carol said as I draped the stethoscope around my neck.

“That’s cool.” It felt like such a dumb thing to say, but I was trying to play it cool. I didn’t know why she would be bringing that up, but I didn’t want to come across as too enthusiastic, just in case.

“He was talking about you. Wasn’t the first time either.” I felt my limbs get weak and all of the blood in my body rushed to my face. I must’ve looked like a lobster. Not the first time? I swallowed hard, which was audibly loud in the echo of the infirmary, and took a couple more seconds to regulate my breathing.

“As much as I want to know, I don’t want you betraying his trust to tell me. Can I just ask you one question?” I met her gaze and took a deep inhale through my nose. “Can you at least tell me whether or not what he’s saying is good or bad? I just want to know that he doesn’t hate me. But be honest, please.” She was quiet for a bit, choosing her words carefully. The knot in my stomach got tighter with each passing second.

“He doesn’t hate you. Not even close. He doesn’t harbor any kind of dislike towards you, really. Maybe some uncertainty, since you’re still new here, but nothing bad.” The speed at which relief flooded over my body almost caused me to become dizzy and pass out, and the ‘snap’ of the knot in my stomach untying itself almost made me throw up.

“That’s a relief, thank you. That’s all I wanted to know. Everything looks great by the way,” I said. She was looking down at the floor now, quiet, once again choosing her words carefully, before looking back up at me.

“Daryl’s…a bit skittish with…this kind of thing. Nervous, uncertain. I’ll leave it at that. Just be patient with him,” she said, getting up from the chair, “and don’t tell him I said anything to you.” I went over and opened the door for her, standing against it and keeping it open with my back.

“Doctor-patient confidentiality,” I joked, and she laughed. As she headed out the door, I mumbled “seems like I’m the only one around here who knows how to keep their mouth shut” to myself.

I had found some empty folders and papers that could be used as handwritten medical charts, so I sat down and started making ones for Judith and Carol. My thoughts were racing the whole time, wondering what Daryl could’ve been sharing with Carol about me. I took comfort in knowing that they didn’t seem to be bad, but not knowing exactly what it was only seemed to make my anxiety worse. Like I told Carol, I didn’t want her betraying Daryl’s trust by telling me everything he said. Which was true, but a small part of me wished she had shared even the tiniest detail.

[distractedrighter]

i come asking more questions for miss Felicity.... 14, 16, 32, 39 (i assume in GNR?) !!

Miss Felicity has answers!!

14 - fondest memory

In the vault, she has a few:

For sure playing baseball, she’s not an athletic person by any means so it was nice to not be picked last for a sport FINALLY

Following her dad around the clinic when she was younger and eventually being old enough to help out

Study group with Amata (really just them hanging out and only studying and doing homework for half of the time)

She also values her alone time a lot, can definitely picture her in her teenage years as her dad spends more and more time in the lab snuggling with a book and playing a vinyl in her bedroom

And Jonas… my beloved… he helped her shoot her BB gun and make more elaborate shooting ranges (more than James would’ve consented). He also caught her getting drunk on wine by herself one time and she convinced him to join her. It was like drinking with your uncle.

I would give some wasteland ones but they are spoilers so they must wait…

16. Biggest regret

Not asking more questions of her dad and generally being quite shy as a kid. She could tell certain questions (about the outside world, the overseer, her mom) were a really sore subject for her dad, so to spare him she decides to stop asking him hard questions. He’s stressed enough with the clinic and the lab and being a single parent as it is. I think she also regrets being so shy/to herself during her younger years - because she can tell the vault residents don’t universally love her dad (even when he’s really nice and helps everyone?) she just decides she can’t make a scene or act out and put a bigger target on his back, so she can’t really be a normal teenager and get into trouble. It’s a different level of responsibility when you know your dad has a target on his back for some unknown reason. But then out in the wasteland she can’t really be irresponsible either, so she doesn’t get a chance to relax :(

32. Favorite weapon/weapon class

The Chinese assault rifle is her shiiiit. Technically she loves her baseball bat but I think she avoids using it because memories and also fuck up close and personal fights. The few times she has to she gets emotional and cries because it just keeps getting ruined with every hit so it goes into storage pretty quickly.

39. Fave song

Felicity doesn’t like sad songs… there’s enough of that in her life. So she only listens to fun stuff (civilization, anything goes). I also HC that she likes down in Mexico by the coasters… I read a good kink meme fill about that song with butchxlw so I’m totally normal about it now. She will also listen to classical music with no lyrics bc head empty just vibes.

Unrelated to the question but she really really hates butcher Pete. She was humming the tune under her breath (bc why does three dog have it in rotation so much!!) and Butch started laughing at her… she said idk why a song about this violent guy is so popular but it is catchy… imagine the look on her face when Butch told her it was about sex. Oh he still hasn’t let that one go.

[carnivorous-canine98]

OMaW: Introductions Abound -Revised-

I know this story is two years old at this point… but talking with someone I both look up to and considered a good friend, really helped me develop this into a possible series.

@luckyshotwrites I’m, looking at you ;3

For the most part I kept most things the same, changing out a few words here and there. But I did take out some bits to try to rework into the lore I’ve been working on the side with. Anyway… up you enjoy ^^.

Word Count: 3920

Trigger Warnings: Brief mentions of attempted assault, mentions of death/hard vore/digestion and fear play.

This job… I seriously fucking hate it.

But honestly, what could I do about it? Finding a well paying job with a workable schedule as a college student is hard enough. Well, at least some of the women that come into the bar are cute.

Yeah… I spend my evenings working at a pretty well known bar here in the city. Not only that, I seem to be getting a following there as well. I perform every Saturday night live on stage and damn was it something I love.

I smile at the thought to no one in particular as I mix up some drinks for a few of the local patrons. It was hard not to hum to the music that was playing in the background as I worked. Pretty sure the song was "Gimmie, Gimme, Gimme (A Man After Midnight)" by ABBA.

Unknowingly, I danced along to the song as I handed out orders. Hell, this was such a fun song… I'd just personally change one word in the lyrics.

"Heeeey Astra *hic*," I heard my name being called.

Turning in the direction of where I heard my name from, I gave my usual customer service smile. It was one of the regulars, Jason, I believe his name was. Internally I sighed, not exactly in the mood to be hit on.

Unfortunately, it came with the territory of being a bartender.

"Heya, Jason," I said sweetly. "What can I do for you?"

"Wheenn are you going to perform next? I wanna hear that seeexy voice soon," he slurred, painfully drunk.

It was hard to keep myself from visibly wincing at the comment. I kept that forced smile while I spoke. "I unfortunately can't do it this weekend. I have some personal stuff going on."

"Aww, cooome oooonn," he whined, grabbing my arm. "You're sooo good."

"Again Jason… I can't. I have really important stuff I need to get done," I responded, trying to get his arm off of mine.

"Fuck that!" The drunk man spat, his grip tightening.

A pained yelp rushed past my lips as I tried to pull away. "P-Please let go. Y-You're hurting me…" I whimpered, trying to pull away. His drinking buddies were trying to get him to let go, thank God. But this asshole had a grip like an iron golem.

He spat some incoherent nonsense, grip tightening even more. I let out a sharp cry of pain, tears at the corners of my eyes.

"Hey, fuck face," an annoyed, gruff feminine voice snarled. "Let the girl go. I think it's pretty fucking clear she's busy and not the slightest into you." I glanced over, a few stray tears falling, to see that it was another woman coming to my rescue.

Oh, Oh god damn… this was not what I was expecting.

Before I had even a chance to process my thoughts, a deathly pale hand reached out, removing the man's hand from my arm. There was a strong gentleness about this woman as she pulled the drunk man away from me. It took me a second to gather my surroundings, my cheeks now flushed red as I scrambled away from the bar.

"Oi! You c***, mind your own fucking business," I heard him shout.

The woman was clearly unfazed by this, raising an eyebrow at the comment. "Was that supposed to hurt? Because I've been called worse."

He looked like he was about to swing at her, but she pinned him with ease, pulling his arms behind his back. "Okay… I think you've had enough. Time to go home, jackass," she hissed. With no effort at all, she forced the drunkard out the bar door, giving him a good shove before coming back in.

"You guys aren't going to be causing the little lady any trouble yourselves?" The woman growled at the other man who he was with.

Obviously intimated, they shook their heads, hands up and mumbling something that sounded like it was supposed to be “of course not!”

"Heya, sweets? You okay…?"

It took me a moment to register that she was talking to me. I glanced up and, oh my lord, did my cheeks start to sting… On a scale of one to ten, she was easily an eleven. Thick black hair fell down to her neck, lightly touching her shoulders while also covering her mostly pale face.

And she was built, oh God was she built.

Now that I was able to look her up and down, she was also huge. This woman had to be close to seven feet tall. My cheeks burned ruthlessly as I continued to study her up and down.

"Hey… you good?" She called out again, raising an eyebrow.

"Y-Yeah, I'm g-good," I squeaked, now full on blushing."T-Thank you f-for the help m-miss."

"Hey, no problem. Glad to be of service," she purred, giving a wide grin. "Catch you later then, sweets."

She turned to walk away, giving a wink as she left. A squeak escaped past my lips as I forced myself to speak. "B-Bathroom, be r-right back," I stammered, quickly darting away from the counter. God damn my face was on fire. My thoughts were all over the place as I ran to the women's restroom to rinse my face.

It felt like forever as I gripped the edges of the sink, trying to calm down. 'Slow your breathing, close your eyes, and think calming thoughts' came into my mind. Doing just that, it didn't take too long to calm down.

A soft smile formed on my lips as I gave a soft sigh… only to let out a spooked yelp as the bathroom door opened.

"Hey Astra… boss says you can go home early tonight. He also told me that tomorrow's shift is covered and you're free to take the day off."

I glanced over to see it was my coworker Katie. She bore a concerned look on her face as we faced each other. I managed a weak smile, giving a nod. "T-Thanks…" I forced out.

Katie's brows furrowed. "Astra, you good?" She asked?

My cheeks started to burn as my mind once again thought of my savor. "I'm good. I'm good." I said rapidly.

Worry once crept onto Katie's face before she gave an 'Oh, I see.'

My coworker chuckled, giving me a soft smile. "Finally got the hots for someone, I see?" She chuckled. "Either way… you take care and get home safe, okay, Astra?"

All I could manage was a weak laugh and a small smile at what my coworker said. Looking back into the mirror, I continued to blush. "Y-Yeah… she was pretty damn cute. Felt pretty good to have her come to my aid," I murmured as I once again collected myself.

After a few minutes, I left the bathroom and went to gather my things. That stupid smile was still on my face and it was hard to stop. I let a sigh pass my lips as I pulled out my phone to check the time.

"11:30… not too late. Should be okay to walk home," I thought.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I left through the back door. I was honestly thankful that the streets were pretty well-lit at this hour. Well… better get myself home, not like I can just magically poof myself there. I reached into my bag, pulling out my earbuds, popping one into an ear.

My smile widened as I played the exact song I was listening to. I hummed along to the beat of the song, getting a bit lost into the music.

"There's not a soul out there

No one to hear my prayer

Gimme, gimme, gimme a girl after midnight.

Won't somebody help me chase these shadows away?"

Oh how good it felt to sing the song this way. My cheeks flushed brightly as I continued to sing, thoughts on my savor. 'Hopefully, I run into her again. I want to properly thank her for tonight,' I thought as I made my way along the sidewalk.

My eyes closed as I let my brain wander through possible date ideas. Romantic dinners, going to the movies, or just something as simple as sit-down at a coffee shop sounded nice. Subconsciously, I placed a hand to my cheek, letting out a soft giggle. Letting out a squeal, I went down an alleyway in hopes of getting home faster. Something I've done dozens of times…

What could go wrong, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Heya cutie… it's dangerous to be walking here all by yourself."

My head instantly shot up when I heard a voice from behind. I instantly spun around, to see a sleazy looking man sauntering way over. 'Great, another fucking creep,' I internally groaned, rolling my eyes. My pace started to pick up, keeping my eyes on my phone as I pretended not to hear him.

"Oh come on babe, I know you heard me," the guy jeered.

I kept walking, not looking at him… that was until I was yet again grabbed. With a loud yelp, I quickly pulled away. "You fucking asshole," I spat. "Take a goddamn hint and piss off."

"Now, now that's not nice," he cooed, stepping closer.

Instinctively, I brought my hand up and clapped him hard on the cheek. "Fuck. Off," I snarled. "I'm not even into men in the first place!" Angrily, I spun off and stormed off. At this point I was fuming. "Fucking men… not getting the hint what someone is clearly not into you."

Anger was clouding my mind too much to even notice what was once again approaching me. "You little bitch!" Was the only thing I heard as I was pinned up against the side of a building. "Doesn't matter if you're one of those kinds of women… You need to be taught some manners."

"L-Let go of me, you prick," I stammered, thrashing around in his grip.

I felt my heart start to race as I struggled to get free. Fuck! I never should've walked home by myself. My blood froze when I felt something cold and hard press against the side of my neck. "Behave… and I won't have to use this," the fucking bastard hissed in a sickly sweet voice.

Tears ran down my cheeks at the thought of what was going to happen to me. I tried to scream, but my voice caught in my throat. With a weak sob, I closed my eyes tightly… waiting.

And then it happened; the thing I least expected:

The pressure was abruptly pulled away from my jugular, earning a shocking qasp. The scene I saw before me was something out of a nightmare.

The tall woman from before had pulled the man off of me and had him in an iron grip. But it's what she was doing to him that sent shivers down my spine. She had him pinned tightly against the wall, mouth clamped down on his neck. From what little light there was, I could see liquid oozing and slowly dripping from the bite wound.

My legs gave out from what I was witnessing. I felt my stomach churn, having to forcibly keep my dinner from making its way onto the street. Time seemed to slow to a standstill as I watched in terror.

Something seemed to cause the woman to stop and glance in my direction. The tips of long ears, barely visible, perked up slightly. She let the man fall to the ground like a rag doll. I visibly shuddered at the sight, recoiling at the sight of blood running from off her lips.

A fearful whimper pushed its way out as I made myself smaller, fearing what was going to happen next. My blood turned to ice when she started to walk over. I pressed my body as far back against the wall as I could, weak sobs eminenting.

Oh God, I would be next. She was going to do the same to me as she did to him. I closed my eyes again, waiting again to be grabbed and have my neck bitten into. No, no, I didn't want to think of the pain… Of what it would be like to be drained dry.

"Heya sweets…" came her low, gentle voice.

My eyes fluttered open to see crimson cat-like eyes staring right back at me. "P-Please j-just get it over with," I croaked, recoiling as she inched closer. "Shh, shh, I'm not going to feed on you," the woman spoke in a soft tone. "I've had my fill for tonight anyway."

"T-Then what are you going to do? S-Save me for a later snack? I-If you're going to kill me… just get it over with!"

Her red eyes went wide at what I said. "Kill you? I have no interest in doing that."

"Y-You literally drank from that creep over there!"

"Okay, calm down… he's not dead if that's what you're getting at," she sighed.

The woman moved just enough to where I could look past her. He was visibly breathing, unconscious it seemed, but clearly alive. "Believe me now there, sweets?" She asked with a playful edge to her voice. I still couldn't help my body from shaking as I looked back up at her.

"I, I, I…." I was too stunned for words.

She smirked wildly, showing off a double set of sharp fangs. "Welcome to the world of monsters, honey," the woman purred, licking her lips.

I don't know why, but I found myself blushing heavily once again. I squeaked, hiding my face when I realized what was happening. A deep laugh filled my ears, making me guess she was laughing at me. "Don't usually have women visibly blushing when I save them… but then again, I try not to have spectators."

"H-Huh what do you mean?" I asked, peeking through my hands, only to go full on red at how close she was now.

"I never leave evidence of my feedings," she purred gently. "Blood can only satisfy for so long. I usually like my meals a bit… meatier, if you know what I mean."

"Y-You e-eat people?! H-How is that even possible? I mean… you're tall, b-but still?"

"Someone's definitely curious," she hummed. "Kinda ironic seeing what just happened."

The fear once again started to make its way back. I was face-to-face with a people-eater. And not just that… I was actively talking with them. My body started to shake like mad, whimpering loudly as she spoke. The woman moved back some, but just enough to where I could easily be grabbed if I were to run.

"A few things," she hummed, a more serious edge in her voice. "Yes… while I eat people, I only actively go out of my way to kill and devourer scumbags who'd hurt those who they deem weaker. Most nights, I hunt petty criminals, take a pint or so and leave for the cops. But when the urge hits for a bigger meal… I go after much, much more fucked up individuals."

"This isn't even my main form… it's what I use to blend in with humans. My true form is much bigger, and scarier. So much bigger in fact, I'm able to swallow a man whole."

"O-Okay… b-but isn't that still kinda cruel? Making them experience, what I'd imagine, a very slow and extremely painful death?" I ask meekly, voice shaking.

"I may be a man eater… but I'm not that heartless. I always give as quick and painless a death as possible before eating the body. Plus… who's even going to want to remember them anyways?" She responded back with a huge grin.

That just made me shiver even more. The fact that she actively consumed people at all was a lot to take in. I wasn’t exactly against her going against the scum of the earth… but, still.

My mind was too busy processing what was said to even notice her moving closer. I let out a surprised squeak when I felt something cold, wet run across my cheek.

"T-The hell?!" I sputtered, whipping my face.

She leaned back, licking her lips, purring loudly. "Mmm," she looked down at me, a predatory glint in her eyes. "Just as I thought… you taste delicious."

"H-Huh? I-I thought you said you only went after criminals?" I squeaked, trying to make myself smaller.

"Oh I do… but every once in a while, I get the craving for something different. Something delightful, much like you, sweets," she purred, now starting to tower over me. I tried to run, but was pinned to the ground. It wasn't rough, yet it didn't change the fact I was staring death in the face.

I watched as her humanoid form started to twist and contort. The sound of bones snapping and muscles tearing was enough to send my stomach into knots again. I thrashed around as the hand pinning me down got bigger, started to grow fur, and the claws got longer.

Looking right at me was a beast that could best be described as a walking nightmare. It was like a werewolf, but much, much larger. She had to be over 45 feet at least. Twin fox-like tails swayed like a cat with a fresh mouse. There was a large set of demonic horns that curved backwards and the faintest hint of spikes running along down her back.

God damn she was massive, surely someone would notice what's going on… right?

I once again gave a weak whimper, struggling more as her muzzle leaned closer. The beast's jaws parted, a snake-like appendage that was her tongue ran along my neck and face. The cold saliva made me shudder, seeing as I expected it to be at least warm.

The fuck am I thinking, right now?!

I began to kick and flare my arms around. Somehow I managed to land a solid blow to her jaw. She didn't even look fazed by it, more amused than anything. With fast movement that I didn't see coming, I found the upper half of my body encased in cool, damp darkness. A muffled, fearful scream erupted from my lungs.

I gave a weak sob, recoiling as the beast's cool tongue seemed to coil around my upper body. A loud purr echoed around me as I was licked like a piece of candy. It was almost deafening with how I was situated.

This changed when my own scream came out as I felt myself being pushed in further. I literally watched in horror as the throat opened up, eager to claim me.

I was soon pushed further in, and my God, was it suffocating.

I tried to kick and thrash around, but it was extremely difficult when everything was pinned and squeezing me from all angles. And that purr… that damned, deafening purring!

It felt like a lifetime had passed when I was pushed into a larger space… although calling it large was a luxury. I was forced to curl up into an awkward fetal position. Grunting, I gave what I could a good kick trying to force something, anything to happen. I had to get out of this hell.

I just had to.

I kept my thrashing up for as long as I could, but found myself struggling. My body started to feel tired, very tired… The hell? I literally felt fine just a moment ago? "What's… going on? Why am I… so… sleepy?"

I couldn't fight it any longer, as I soon passed out.

—-----------

My eyes fluttered open to the sunshine and the warmth of my bed. I quickly shot up, letting out a weak laugh. "S-So that was a dream? Thank fucking God…" I breathed, placing a hand to face.

"That was no dream sweets," an irresistible feminine voice purred.

I let out a shout of alarm, scrambling to get out of the sheets. ‘Yes, freedom!’ I thought as I faceplanted into the gourd. That damn voice started to laugh at my clumsiness. "Damn, didn't think you'd be falling for me this quickly," she bellowed.

"S-Shut it," I hissed, rubbing my cheek.

I yelped as I was suddenly picked up and placed back onto the bed. The butterflies started to turn my stomach into knots while this was happening. She smiled sweetly, sitting next to me. Fuck, I could feel my cheeks start to burn with how close she was.

"H-How am I alive… let alone back at my place?" I blurted out, trying to distract myself.

She smirked, resting her chin on her hand. "I told you sweets, I don't hurt innocent people. Sure I might snag one every now and then for a more… lively meal," she purred, coming in closer.

I felt my body starting to heat up a bit as she was close enough to where we could lock lips. "To answer the other question.. I have my ways," she purred, licking her teeth. "Although… It sucks. I'm going to have to erase the memories from your mind. Can't exactly have you going around and letting the world know about my existence."

My eyes flew wide with what she said and I had no control over the words that flew out. "Wait, wait, wait! I, I, I have a proposition for you!" I stammered.

The hell am I saying?

She sat back, raising an eyebrow. " Go on…"

"I-I won't say anything about you or what happened last night, under one condition," my voice shrank, face burning like hell.

"I-If you go on a date with me…"

Now it was my turn to watch her eyes go wide. We sat in awkward silence for what felt like ever, until she snorted, then bursting into full on laughter. Don't know why, but I found myself pouting at her reaction. Fuck… now I wanted to curl into a ball.

Why did I say that?

The woman's laughter soon died down, placing a hand to my chin to look us both in the eyes. "Forgive my sudden burst of laughter, you caught me off guard was all," she spoke with a softness that I'd never seen coming. "Most humans view me as a monster, glutton, an abomination… so how is it you see me in a different light?"

"I, I." Again I was lost for words at the question. It's almost like steam was coming out of my ears as us two stared at each other. "I find you extremely attractive… a-and I… I wanted to thank you properly for helping me."

"Not only that… you never gave me your name," I murmured sheepishly. "I-Im Astra…"

That smug ass grin spread across her lips once again as she got closer. I let out a squeak as I found myself pinned against the headboard. God… does she like toying with me?

"Name’s Dusk, and alright, I'll bite," she hummed, narrowing her eyes playfully. "However, I have my own stipulations for this little exchange."

"What's that?"

"I get to have dessert later on," she purred, leaning in and licking the side of my neck.

I shuddered, letting out a loud whine. I had to bite my lip to keep any other noises from escaping as she gave me another. What did I just get myself into…

"F-Fine… deal," I breathed, panting heavily.

"Good, I look forward to the chance of properly eating you, sweets," she smirked.

I internally cringed at the pun. Well this is going to be a very interesting relationship…

I just had to ask a monster out on a date.

[ariel-s-awesome]

May as well post my response to someone on AO3 asking why I hate season 2 here. Already stirred the pot.

(Can't get read more working so everyone has to deal.)

I could write multiple essays about it but I'll keep it brief to avoid opening a can of worms. (Yes, this IS the brief version.)

1) Portraying Wander as a perfect immortal space Jesus ruined his character. Sylvia was forced to blindly trust him when she previously balanced out his worst impulses. So it also ruined their friendship by introducing a toxic power dynamic. And Sylvia's character too as she got forced into a subservient role.

Wander continuously pushing Hater's boundaries in an effort to make him good worked when he seemed young and naive, without knowing when to back off. If he's done this song and dance many times now Hater's just the latest entry in villains he's overwhelmed into submission. It's manipulative and cheapens their friendship.

2) They flattened Hater. In season 1 there was solid internal logic behind his foolishness. He's not just a stupid childish oaf. In much of season 2 his behavior seemed far more random with little purpose but to make him stupid and incompetent. (There were still some good episodes, mostly when Dominator was nowhere in sight, but...)

3) Misogyny. There were issues in season 1 but it really took off when Lauren Faust left the show between seasons to work on Medusa (which later got cancelled, sadly.) I have a feeling that her input kept it from getting out of hand with how it went from the usual lack of prominent female characters to the Dominator love interest arc.

Dominator worked well as a big threat that shook up the status quo and forced the main 4 to work together. But she was forced into a love interest role and demonized for not returning Hater's feelings.

This attitude is what leads to women getting assaulted for turning men down. As someone making children's cartoons, Craig has a responsibility to examine the messages closely and avoid reinforcing harmful ones because kids are very impressionable.

Also WOY used to be a great show for aromantics because it emphasized the importance of platonic love. That was no longer the case and many aro fans became bitter as the love interest arc wore on.

Her being portrayed as evil for not feeling love (I'm The Bad Guy) was the slap in the face as an aromantic (who thought I was a girl at the time) and my final straw. So I'm evil. Okay thanks guys. Time to pack it up and not even be able to bear to look at the show for several years.

Dominator was sexualized and it was disgusting. They constantly emphasized her boobs and hips despite her being fairly flat on model. There was even a storyboard posted with a note to fix her posing because when she was expressive that "wasn't pretty enough" or something like that.

They reduced what could have been a cool character to eye candy because she was a girl. Which is exactly what Wander and Hater did to her.

If this was a one episode thing that ended with Sylvia calling Wander out for being misogynistic and harassing her to pair her up with Hater, it would be fine. It'd be a good lesson. But it consumed most of the season without him and Hater ever being shown as wrong.

4) It was a waste of time that literally ended with the words "nothing ever changes" as they returned to the status quo. Craig McCraken failed to read the writing on the wall and thought that he would have unlimited time to tell his story. (Disney had an unofficial hard limit on keeping anything but breakout hits to two seasons at the time. And Wander wasn't one.)

Unpopular opinion but I'm glad Wander got canceled. Even putting the mess it became at the end to the side. That experience improved Craig's storytelling skills as he learned to work with the time he has instead of what he hopes for.

And that was what made Kid Cosmic great. I'm more attached to Wánder Over Yónder both because I was there for it airing and because it's my long-term special interest, but Kid Cosmic objectively has better storytelling because Craig learned to focus on the story he wants to tell.

It still has its flaws pacing wise, both because of Netflix keeping it short and him using so many main characters that most hardly got developed. (...Poor Chuck was all but abandoned by the narrative after his life was shattered.) Yet the story got wrapped up. Unlike Wander.)

5) Much more minor complaint but: The art suffered when they switched animation studios. I mean, I know Titmouse is a hard act to follow. But it looked cheap, with more errors, worse expressions, and more reused animation.

Probably not something the actual target audience would pay much mind to (I was a teenaged animation buff), still disappointing after how well-animated season 1 was.

[tarabyte3]

Title: Wants, Needs, and Clerical Errors

Fandom: Andor

Characters/Pairings: Kino Loy, Kino Loy x F!Reader

Chapters: 2/3 (7.1k words)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

AO3 Link | Playlist

Summary: You're only on Narkina 5 due to a mistake on your transfer paperwork and no one in charge seems to care. The work is horrific and being the only woman there is a nightmare, but Kino Loy is... intriguing. (Okay, he's hot. He's very hot.)

Tags: Explicit rating, smut, prison, prison sex, sex, oral sex, fingering, dirty talk, attempted sexual assault, fear of sexual assault, violence, blood, minor character death, fluff, happy ending

Chapter 2 - No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her

"My baby never fret none About what my hands and my body done If the Lord don't forgive me I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me When I was kissing on my baby And she put her love down soft and sweet In the low lamp light I was free Heaven and hell were words to me" - Hozier, "Work Song"

Something that surprised you about sex with Kino Loy, though it probably shouldn't have, was that he always made sure you finished first. It didn't matter how much time you had, or if he would be able to find his own release before you were scrambling to get in line or to your cells. You came first. And he was a very driven man.

This wasn't a complaint, necessarily. The sex was incredible, and the things he could do with his tongue had you blushing at your workstation whenever images of his face between your legs popped into your head—your table mates kindly said nothing. It was just that, sometimes, the thing you really wanted was to please him. To put him first. And you were also a very driven woman.

So to get what you wanted, you had to catch him off guard, which proved more difficult than it sounded. Partially due to the nature of your meetups. You had so few opportunities to fuck, and they were so expected—anticipated, even— that spontaneity wasn't a useful tool. Instead you had to be fast.

You could count on one hand the times you were successful.

The first time was in the small maintenance closet. Just as the door slid shut behind you, your knees hit the ground in front of him. Then your hands were on him, fondling him over his uniform and teasing him to a rapid hardness while he began to writhe under your palm. And before he could protest or stop you, you pulled his pants down below his hips and wrapped your lips around his length. Only then was he too far gone to somehow maneuver you until he was the one with his hands and mouth on you.

That last thing had happened a few times, and, you had to admit, was entirely your fault. You hadn't been fast enough in getting his pants down. So he would grab your wrist, pull you up to face him, and say in that husky voice that you could feel in your chest and down to your core, "No you don't. Not until I've tasted you." And then you were putty in his hands. No one, you thought, could fault you for that.

But that first time? God, you remembered the sound he made when you ran your tongue along the underside of him and he was too surprised to muffle his voice. A shameless mix between a cry and a moan, which only encouraged you to do it again—and to add more pressure. It didn't receive the same reaction, but based on his pained expression, that was only through sheer force of will.

Then you wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and began to suck him in earnest, working him with your fist and lips. It wasn't long before one of his hands was on the back of your neck and his hips were bucking forward to meet your pace. He grunted above you and his eyes occasionally fluttered shut when you paid extra attention to the head. Otherwise his gaze was fixed on you the entire time. You looked back up at him with hunger, your cheeks hollowed and eyes watery from a few of his thrusts hitting the back of your throat.

"God, you love this as much as I do, don't you?" He growled. If you could have given him a smug grin at that moment, you would have. Instead you settled for a smug eyebrow raise. "This isn't what I wanted to do to you today." You hummed around him because you were well aware. "I wanted to bend you over," he paused to swear under his breath as your tongue swirled around him, "grab your hips, and fuck you onto my cock."

There was a responding ache between your legs at the thought of it. You remembered a few other instances where you were bent forward and clinging to a shelf to keep your balance and stop your head from being driven into one of the spare boxes of tools while he nearly lifted you off your feet. Were you not determined to have him come in your mouth—and the closest you'd ever been to finally achieving your goal—you might have been tempted to stop and let him. But there was always next time.

His grip slid from the back of your neck to entangle both of his hands into your hair for better control and his movements became less gentle. You knew then he was close, so you sped up to a brutal rhythm, not wanting him to change his mind at the last second. The only thing you wanted him to think about was the glide of your hand and tongue and lips around him. Of chasing that peak as he fucked your mouth. You wanted his world reduced to that and only that.

Then, with a deep moan, he pulled your head forward to meet a final desperate thrust and buried himself to the back of your throat. You tried to swallow as quickly as you could, but it was too much and you nearly choked on him. So you pulled him from your mouth with a gasp, and pumped the last of his release onto your face and lips.

He groaned at the sight of it, still throbbing with aftershocks in your hand, and suddenly you couldn't take it anymore. Without letting go of him, you stuck your free hand down the front of your pants, found your clit, and began rubbing punishing circles against yourself. Your tongue darted out to lap up some of his come from the corner of your mouth, and his hand tightened in your hair.

"Don't clean yourself up. I want you to come just like that." He angled your head back so you were looking directly up at him. You knew your lips were swollen, and your chin was streaked and glistening from both him and your own drool. "I want to see your messy face when you do."

"Kino," you whined and tried to adjust your hips for a better angle, which just left you squirming in front of him.

"God, look at you. I should cover you in my come more often." You felt his rough voice between your legs.

And then you were climaxing so hard your vision went dark. Or maybe you had closed your eyes. You couldn't be sure because the only thing you were aware of was the pain in your scalp and the waves of pleasure rolling through your belly. You would have toppled forward directly into his groin if he hadn't been holding you in place by your hair. At some point your hand had even dropped from his softening length to brace yourself on the floor.

As your breathing slowed and you came to awareness enough to sit up on your own, he carefully untangled his fingers from your hair. Then he cupped your face and caressed his thumb along a clean patch on your cheek.

"That's my girl." His voice was thick with amazement and something else that was still unnamed between you. You gave him a tired, dreamy smile in return.

He spent the last several minutes you had together sitting on the floor. His back was against the shelf and he had you in his lap, holding you, stroking your hair, and placing kisses on your temple. You had both cleaned up with a roll of bandages, which was inelegant, but good enough to get you to the showers.

"Did you enjoy your surprise?" You asked after stifling a yawn.

"You're well aware that I did." You felt the rumble of laughter in his chest. "Very sneaky."

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to surprise you with a blow job? Most men would leap at the chance, but you refuse one unless I've gotten off."

He shrugged beneath you. "Then most men are idiots. Making you come is the sexiest part."

You tilted your head back until your nose and lips were nuzzled against his neck. "Is that why? Not out of some sense of chivalry?"

He pulled away just far enough to look you in the eyes. "What kind of partner would I be if I didn't? But I assure you, it's very selfish on my part because you're hot and getting to come after watching you is incredible."

You huffed in disbelief, even as your cheeks reddened from his praise. "Prison hot, maybe." Then you gave him a teasing look. "You should see me after some self care and a tight, low cut top."

He sighed with fake exasperation. "I'll see it one day soon. Until then, stop trying to kill me with the thought of it. Because even if I could manage it, we don't have time for a round two."

You placed a sloppy kiss on his lips. "Then let's go get cleaned up, old man."

You jumped up from his lap as he swatted at your ass with a frown. "I'll show you 'old man.' Get back here!"

Then you both hurried off to the showers, trying your best not to look quite so debauched—and failing miserably.

The first time you climbed into his cell in the middle of the night, and he fucked you while you were both on your sides and facing the wall, had also not been as spontaneous as you would have liked.

It had taken weeks of testing the weight censors in the cell floor—as well as receiving a few unfortunate warning shocks—before you discovered the cell floors weren't made nearly as well as the actual floor. There were dead spots along the edge of the bench and the seams of panels that you could carefully step on without frying yourself. Three slow steps was all it took. Then once you were both in his cot, it didn't register the extra weight because the engineers assumed the cell floor would catch you before you got that far. You supposed they weren't expecting your determination and you were, once again, grateful for sloppy Imperial work.

You had also practiced climbing up and down between your cells for weeks while the main floor was still white. Kino was there on the bench to guide you as you lowered, and to give you a hand up when you returned—though you both knew you would likely sleep in his cell until morning. He made you prove you could do it perfectly several times in a row before he reluctantly agreed you had it down. Which was a huge step up from his initial outright refusal to even help you figure it out.

None of the men said anything. In fact, you noticed a few of them taking note of your movement and technique, and you were kind enough to demonstrate the footsteps as well. If they also wanted to risk their lives to have some company in their cells, then they deserved the ability to do so, too. Though you didn't tell Kino that. He was still your manager.

Besides, most of them had warmed up to you by that point. There were still a few holdouts that glared at you, especially whenever Kino was nearby, but there was nothing you could do about that. You knew your situation was the only one of its kind in those walls, and that was inherently unfair. So you didn't blame them. As long as they kept their hands to themselves and didn't let Kino catch them expressing their ire, you let them glare all they wanted.

The thrill you felt when you both sank onto his cot that first time left you feeling nearly drunk with nerves. Both of your hearts were pounding with exhilaration, as well as the realization that you had just tempted fate by dangling yourself over a metal floor that would kill you in an instant. It hadn't, and then you had Kino pressed behind you, his arm across your stomach, and his hand in your pants while he peppered light, silent kisses along your neck. Just as his finger slipped between your folds, you knew it had been worth it. You would happily cheat death a million times for that man. To be wrapped up in his arms and then come on his fingers.

Which you did, still wrapped up in his arms, surrounded by the scent of him and, for once, with something relatively soft underneath of you. There was nothing comfortable or cozy about the showers or closet—and one time the locker room. In fact, you never would have described your sleeping cots as comfortable either until you felt the difference as you both laid there.

When he finally pulled both of your pants down enough that he could lift your thigh and press into your opening, you knew this was the closest you'd come to feeling normal in your intimacy. The thought made your chest constrict as the waves of your orgasm subsided and were replaced by the familiar glide of him between your legs. His thrusts were more shallow than normal so that there was no sound of skin on skin. It was frustrating because you wanted to feel all of him, but you knew that wasn't an option. He made it up to you by once again finding your clit with his fingers and rubbing in tandem with his hips. 

The sensation on your already overly stimulated sex was nearly too much. You were caught between pain and pleasure, unsure if your body would even cooperate enough to climax again. Until he whispered your name into your ear and sounded completely wrecked. Up until that point he had been silent other than his breathing. You imagined what his face looked like in that moment, how far gone he was behind you. Then you were shaking with a second orgasm. You bit your lip to keep quiet as you rolled back into his thrusts, and your walls fluttered and clenched around him.

Feeling you shudder in his arms was his undoing.

He sucked in a deep breath right next to your ear, and that was the only warning you got before he finally pressed as deeply as he could, hips firm against your ass, and spent himself inside of you. Knowing that was because of you, something that was yours, was a feeling you didn't think you could ever get enough of. 

You knew you hadn't been completely silent, but you'd been fast enough that you didn't feel too guilty about it. You were expecting a quickie for that reason, despite finally having nowhere to be. No one wanted to listen to you both carry on for an hour. And Kino knew exactly how to touch you to get you off quickly. Which meant he also knew how to touch you to tease you and drag out your release when he had the ability to take his time. Truly, a blessing and a curse—which was really just another blessing with a lot more begging involved.

But afterwards, the encounters where you could take your time post sex, those were the parts you enjoyed almost as much as the sex itself. He would hold you, kiss you, tuck your hair behind your ear, and look at you like you were a sunrise. Sometimes he whispered that you were beautiful and brilliant, or told you that he finally felt alive instead of just existing.

You tried to think of a way to describe how it made you feel. Because certainly you felt safe, comfortable, and respected when you were curled up against him. Felt all the things he told you that you were. But there had been no getting around it. You always came back to that one truth: loved. You felt loved.

Unfortunately, prison didn't seem like the appropriate setting to tell a man that you had fallen in love with him. You didn't want to give that place one more thing that belonged to the two of you. Instead you tried to show him in any way that you could because it still felt important that he knew. So sometimes, when you were pinned beneath him, you would slow his pace so that you could be in the moment, just the two of you. Could savor the connection of your bodies and look up at him with every raw emotion that felt too big to mash down into words.

You showed him by rolling over in the cot to face him, and by looking into his eyes while your fingertips traced meaningless patterns across his skin—which was just another way to admire and adore every inch of him. By the way you planted small kisses on his lips and nose and sighed into his arms. And he cupped your cheek with a touch that was so delicate, your lip trembled and your eyes filled with tears. He didn't speak. He just kissed you as if to say, "I know." And that was enough.

You had been in there for eight months, two weeks, and three days. You had been with Kino for six months and three days.

And then the phone on the wall rang during your work shift. It had been a good day and everyone's numbers were decent, so the sound sent a shock of whispered speculation through the room. Nothing good ever came from the phone ringing. And if your numbers were acceptable, that was even worse.

Kino answered it with a tight smile and you knew he was concerned as well. He talked for a few minutes, trying to keep that placating smile in place, and you could have heard a pin drop in that room, but you still couldn't hear him. Then he listened for a moment and his expression became grim. His eyes briefly met yours before turning to face the wall, and you felt a swell of panic and fear that left you lightheaded. Was it about you? Did they know about the two of you? Did someone finally notice the mistake of your presence there, and now they were taking you away from Narkina 5? From him. You grabbed the arm of one of your coworkers to keep yourself steady, clenched at his uniform, and he put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You could hear the men at your table telling you it would be okay, the guards were just being hard asses and wanted everyone to pick up the pace. You were grateful for them trying to calm your heart's attempt at clawing through your ribcage.

The conversation dragged on and you weren't sure you had ever seen him on the phone that long. His words were low, still too low to hear anything more than the indistinct rough timbre of his voice. Then it was over. He took a moment to collect himself, then he turned back to see everyone staring.

"Come on, guys! Let's keep up the pace! We could take the lead today." He shouted to the room, but there was an unconvincing tension in his voice. So he added, "That had nothing to do with us, so don't concern yourselves." His eyes deliberately met yours. "Back to work!"

Then he made his way around the room to each table, giving more prodding as needed. You could tell he was trying to bring a feeling of normalcy back with varying degrees of success. He was also headed straight for your table without making it seem like he was headed straight for your table. When he got there, he didn't snap orders or numbers at your group. He simply stared at you like he needed reassurance you were still there.

"Kino?" You prompted, betraying your nerves. The stern mask of his Manager's face slipped and Kino, the man underneath that kissed and held you, rested a hand over yours. He'd never displayed that level of openness in front of anyone else before, and the action that was intended to calm you made you feel worse. Whatever the phone call was, it had been bad. Bad enough that afterwards he'd needed to give and seek comfort during work hours.

"We're going to be just fine." That time there was enough determination in his voice that it cut through your anxiety. "Right now I need you here. You have to keep going, you hear me?" You nodded, swallowing down the panic attack that had been snaking its way through your chest and up your throat. He glanced around your table. "I will explain later, but today, more than any other day, I need you all to put up the numbers." There was a confused chorus of agreement. "Good. Thank you." And then Kino's hand was gone and he was moving away from your table to continue his checks.

You reluctantly turned back to your station. All of the men were looking at you with sympathy that you didn't feel you deserved. You had tried so hard to avoid needing or getting special treatment up until that point. At least when it came to work. You were, after all, very okay with special treatment from Kino alone in the showers. In between that, though, you made sure no one could accuse him of favoritism or you of slacking off.

Then again, whatever was happening at that moment was a very unusual set of circumstances. Maybe an unusual reaction wasn't the end of the world.

"Whatever it is, he'll handle it." You heard one of your table mates say, as if he could sense your inner turmoil.

Before you could turn to thank him, from across the station another one of your crew said, "He always does." That was met with several nods and murmurs of agreement.

"Yeah, nothing to worry about. So let's get a move on so we don't fall behind! You heard the man!" Said the man directly on your left. The one you had clung to earlier. He gave you a sturdy pat on the back.

You were overcome with gratitude, but there was no time to express it. Instead, you nodded once and then your table threw everything they had into lifting and connecting parts. Sliding joints, fastening bolts, clearing the space, holding down the drill. It all went by in a blur.

And yet, the last five hours dragged on. You were possessed with a nervous, manic energy and jumped at every loud noise. It felt like waiting for the other shoe to drop. You also pushed yourself so hard that you knew you would feel it more than usual in the morning—even though you didn't know why, or if what you were doing was helping. But Kino never came back around to tell you to go faster, so all your table could do was keep moving.

At the end of your shift, your table came in first by 3 racks and 2. It wasn't the first time. You'd gotten first several times, especially in the last few weeks. It turned out that getting laid by your hot manager was a better reward than getting fried was a deterrent. All of the previous times had felt like a victory. You had been so proud and Kino had beamed at you when you were alone. That one, however, felt like slipping through the door of an airlock right before it closed and lost pressure behind you.

Your shift had also come in first on the level and third overall. Earlier in the day, there might have been happy chatter at the news as everyone filed into the hallway, but the tension from the phone call still lingered and marred it for everyone. Even Kino.

You didn't wait long in the locker room before you cornered him. Not knowing was killing you.

"Please, tell me what's going on. Do they know about us? Are we in trouble?!" He held up a hand to stop you from continuing and working yourself into a fit.

"No, it was nothing like that, I promise." Then he gently led you to a corner so no one else would overhear. When he was satisfied you had privacy, he whispered, "but it was about you."

You made a noise of protest, and his hands were on you before you could start shouting. One held your shoulder and the other cupped your cheek.

"A visiting supervisor heard that a woman ended up in here. They called to ask me directly how it was going." You tensed, but said nothing and he continued on. "I told them the relevant truth. That there was an adjustment period because no one was used to a woman on the floor. I also told them about the attack early on, but that I had put a stop to it and the man had been punished. They don't need to know what actually happened and since then, everything has been running smoothly."

You blinked at him, waiting for more. "That's it? They were just checking up on me?"

His expression became grim, just as it had on the phone before he'd turned away from the room. "No. They asked if I thought it was feasible to bring more women into the prison on different shifts."

You gaped at him in horror. "No. Tell me you said no! Kino, they can't!"

He pulled you closer so that your foreheads were almost touching. "I told them no. I said every shift was different, but the routine and layout of the cells leave women vulnerable. They weren't designed for it. And I apologize for this next part. I don't believe a word of it, I was just looking for any way to help at that point. But I also said I didn't think every woman could handle the work. That you are an outlier." His jaw clenched then with anger and he gave an annoyed huff. "So then they asked if it was better to replace you if that was the case—" you cried out in shock, and he finally wrapped his arms around you and laid your head on his chest, even though people could see. 'It's okay! I told them of course not. You're part of the shift now, you're well trained, and your numbers speak for themselves! Replacing you would only slow us down. And they were glad to hear it, but that's why I needed your table to do well today. I knew they would check. When they see the numbers, they'll agree to leave you for the sake of productivity and move on."

"Except you and I both know I need to keep those numbers to stay, and they'll eventually use them to justify bringing more women in when they get desperate for replacements, anyway. I'm damned if I don't and I'm damning other people if I do. Aren't I?" Your voice was thick with tears and you knew you hadn't kept your volume down. Several men were still hovering in the locker room to listen. Kino let them because he knew he would be explaining all of it again later anyway.

He just kissed the top of your head. "I don't know, love."

"It's bullshit! They don't care what happens to us in here! We're glorified machines for whatever terrible thing they need all these parts for. I mean, they just expected me to shower and change in front of everyone! Without any protection or second thought! I was alone, and I was so scared, Kino!" You were openly crying then, letting out all of the frustration and stress you had felt in those early days, and he was stroking your back and squeezing you tightly.

"I'm so sorry. I know you were. I would never let anything happen to you. Even then. I know YOU would never let anything happen to you."

"But not every shift has you as a manager. Or these men as workers. What if it's a whole shift like that piece of shit that attacked me? Maybe the next woman doesn't know how to fight! Maybe she doesn't get lucky like I did!"

He just kept whispering "I know" until you pulled away and wiped your runny nose on your sleeve. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. I'm not mad at you! You did the right thing. I'm unspeakably grateful for you. I just can't stand the thought of condemning another person to a worse version of this place because it's horrible enough as it is."

He tipped your chin so you would meet his eyes, and his expression was fierce. "Stop." There was an edge to his voice that caught your full attention. "I need you to hear me, right now. None of this is your fault. You didn't choose to be put here by accident. You are not responsible for anything those people decide to do. Their decisions are on them. Hell, they probably would have had the idea eventually because you're right, if they need replacements, they just care that they have bodies. It's their cruelty, not yours."

You stared at him at a loss for words and thought about what he said until you had to sniffle. The sound of it was so ridiculous at that moment that it softened him. "No matter what happens, we get through this. We finish our time. No waves. And afterwards, if you want to fight it, I'll be there by your side. But right now, this is not on you. Okay?"

"Yeah," your voice cracked and you nodded. Because he was right. As much guilt as you felt for being a catalyst, that was never your choice. You weren't that special. And if it hadn't been you, it would have been someone else. This was inevitably.

"That's my girl." You blushed and thought that he would kiss you in front of nearly half the shift, but instead he let you go. "Now go shower and get cleaned up. And that goes for the rest of you, as well." He finally turned to glare around the room. Several men looked sheepish, but there were others that tried to pretend that they hadn't been listening. Kino just shook his head and went to go talk to someone else. He had just come out of the shower and missed most of the spectacle, so he was looking around, confused.

You laughed and gave your nose one last pass with your sleeve. "You heard the man! Let's go before all the room temperature water is gone!"

Most of them followed you to disrobe and toss your dirty clothes in the laundry bin. You didn't feel the need for modesty and none of them blinked twice at the sight of you. Instead, one of the men from your table, along with a few others on different parts of the floor, teased you about the hickeys on your shoulder and made you feel like your presence was the most natural thing in the world. Like you were bullshitting in the hallway. Then the shower room was the rowdiest it had been as everyone started talking about what had happened and whether or not they would actually put women on the shifts.

You once joked that he should have an office people could visit with complaints instead of bombarding him in the hallway. "Then I could get you a name plate that says, 'Kino Loy, Day Shift Manager and Sex God.'"

He laughed in a self-deprecating way and said, "Hardly."

You didn't know another way to convince him that you thought he was actually quite good in bed, so you straddled his lap and rocked against him.

It took around three minutes of teasing him before your shirt was off, both of your pants were gone, and you were bracing your shins on either side of him for leverage. Then you sank down onto him until you were fully seated in his lap. Without waiting for either of you to adjust, you rolled your hips, gripping and sliding your walls around him—slowly at first, but then quickly settling into a rhythm that had both of you moaning. His hands clenched your ass and hips so tightly that his knuckles were bone white. His mouth was busy nipping at your breasts and licking from your sternum to your nipples, but you pulled him into a sloppy kiss and whispered against his lips, "do you think I get this wet for just anyone?" He groaned into your mouth. "I've never ached for someone like I ache for you."

"Fuck, woman." He buried his face into your neck and kissed that spot below your jaw that drove you wild. "If you keep that up, I'm not going to last long."

"Maybe I don't want you to," you said breathlessly, more from the attention he was lavishing on you than the effort. "Maybe I want to fuck you dry right now."

"Then touch yourself for me. I want to come as I feel that cunt of yours squeezing me."

"Don't need to," you whined. "I'm so close. Just keep talking."

"Is it the sound of my voice that does it for you? Hmm?" He kissed your jaw and then spoke directly into your ear. "Or is it what I'm saying that gets you so worked up for me?"

"Yes! Both!" You cried. "Fuck, Kino!"

"Do you know how good it feels to fuck you? How hard it is to resist being inside of you every day? I touch myself at night while thinking about you. I get off to the memory of this. That's how fucking good you feel." He growled and forced your hips to move faster. "Some day, I'm going to get to spend an entire day fucking you and I am going to fill every single one of your holes with my come. Do you want that?" You could only whine in response, but he hissed, "No, I want to hear you say it."

"Yes! I want that so fucking bad!" There were tears in your eyes as you teetered between consciousness and oblivion. "Fuck me, please!"

"Good girl."

You scrunched your eyes closed, clamped a hand tightly over your mouth, and screamed into your palm as your orgasm hit you. Your hips slowed down as your legs trembled too much to support yourself, despite your best efforts, but he was already lifting you with his hands and fucking you down onto his length. Every slide and snap of your hips sent sparks behind your eyelids.

You could hear him grunting and swearing at the edge of your awareness as he felt every twitch of your climax around his cock. Then he was following you over that edge, groaning and forcefully pumping his release inside of you in an uneven rhythm. You shivered at the feeling, which shifted your hips and pulled a spent cry from him. So you rocked again, determined to work every last bit of pleasure from your own orgasm, and to milk every drop of his.

He had to hold you still to get you to stop moving, but you could feel a second buildup chasing that first one. Another release right there. You didn't want to stop. Your hand worked its way between you, and you had barely touched your clit before he was swatting your hand away and replacing your fingers with his own.

"You're fucking insatiable, you know that?"

"Only when you're touching me." Your voice was practically a sob because the way heat pooled in your belly made you feel desperate and feverish, but you were also still lost in the fog of your first orgasm.

"What if I was licking it out of you instead? Tasting both of us together?" You froze, wide-eyed, seeing the shape of it in your mind. Before you could respond, you were both pushing you off of him and onto the floor. Then his head was between your thighs and his tongue was dragging along your soaked slit, and you nearly slammed your head against the floor due to the speed at which you flung yourself backwards to arch your hips up towards him.

"Always so eager for me." He lapped at you a few more times, then pressed his tongue inside of you. You whined in surprise and he chuckled. You could feel his hot breath on your skin. "You really are a mess."

"Fuck," you flopped your arm above your head, "I should have known you were going to tease me."

His voice was low and gravelly when he responded, "Yes, you should have."

The sound of it made you shiver, but you were torn. On one hand, you loved hearing him talk. On the other hand, talking meant he wasn't using his mouth to get you off. And you were close to begging.

"I already love the way you taste, but you taste even better full of my come." He slowly dragged his tongue along your folds for emphasis, stopping only to dip inside of you again. Then he swallowed and it sounded so filthy that you whimpered. "I would love to suck your clit until you screamed again, and then fuck more into you so I could do it all over." He sighed. "I guess we'll add it to the list of things I plan on doing to you when we get out of here."

That was it. You couldn't take it anymore. "Kino, please. I need your mouth on me. Please make me come!"

"Alright. Since you asked so beautifully." His lips finally closed around your bundle of nerves and he sucked while his tongue lapped at you. You reached down and ran your fingers through his hair, desperate to keep him against you. You focused on the way he held your thighs to him, felt his head shift under your hand as he worked your clit, and the wet sounds of his mouth.

"Kino!" You were so close, and then he moaned against you. You could feel it reverberate along your flesh and through your core. For a moment, it was as if the floor vanished beneath you and you were weightless. Senseless and untethered. His tongue forcefully worked your clit to push you further past that peak. Then with a choked sob and a full body spasm, you had form again, and every inch of you was on fire. You arched up towards him, leaning into the sensation on instinct alone, your hand clenching in his hair with the desperate need to cling to something. His grip on your thighs tightened to hold you in place so he could guide you down from your climax. Slowly, each crest through your limbs less powerful than the last. He placed open mouth kisses on your quivering flesh until you finally caught your breath.

"Fuck," you panted.

He raised his head to look at you, and even the open air left behind was almost too much sensation against your exposed sex. His normally neat hair was in disarray, and beard and lips were glistening with moisture as he smirked down at you. The aftermath of your orgasm left you feeling limp and vulnerable, and he looked so defiled and sexy—so fucking brilliant, that you burst into tears.

There was a flash of panic and worry on his face. He climbed up towards you, to gather your spent body and encircle you in his arms. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" You whimpered. "Absolutely nothing is wrong. I'm sorry, you just…you're everything. I—" You buried your face into his chest, biting back a declaration that sat heavy on your tongue.

"So," he hesitated, "these are happy tears?"

"Yes!" You let out a watery laugh. "They're very happy tears. Because I am so happy and deeply content that apparently all I can do is cry about it."

He untangled you from his arms to look down into your face. His expression was intense. Determined. "Say it."

"What?" Your heart pounded in your chest. You knew what he was asking and it both elated and terrified you.

"You've been holding back, but I don't want you to. Don't let this place take this from us. Say it." You knew it wasn't a request. It was a demand to break through any reluctance you felt. Any worry you had that you would think of this place every time you revisited this moment. But as you stared up at him, you weren't thinking about the prison, you were just thinking about him.

Your lips were trembling, so you sucked in a breath to steady yourself. You softened then, which left your face open to him. Honest. Vulnerable, still.

"I love you." It came out just barely stronger than a whisper. But he pulled you into a passionate kiss, chasing your words with the desperation of a man that had been given a life raft in the middle of an ocean. Like he could devour them off of your tongue, and you realized he still had the taste of you together on his lips. When he pulled away, he had tears in his eyes as well, and though they didn't fall, they spoke volumes to your bursting heart.

"I love you, too."

You broke into tears again, but this time you were laughing and smiling through them without the pain of biting your tongue. You sat there on the floor and kissed each other, whispering I love yous, until the line up tone cut through your bliss. You had spent the entire time hidden away in the closet and missed a shower. But you had no regrets because you loved that man and he loved you, too. He uselessly wiped at his drying face, much to your amusement. After a grumble, he pulled you both to standing.

"Visit my cell tonight. I just need to hold you for a while longer." You nodded in agreement because how could you say no to that? To him.

When you lined up, the long hall of windows that looked out over the water and to the rest of the prison felt like a trap, but one you could see the exit to. They had you here, toiling and working—for now. But you were not theirs. You were Kino's, and he was yours. This was temporary. This and the people lording over you were nothing. The more they tried to squeeze you, and the millions of people like you across the galaxy, into submission, the easier it was to slip through their fingers.

So this was temporary, and, with the fervor of someone that had hope, you would make sure of it.

Chapter 3 ->