#i wonder if i could use this to my advantage.

[beef-brisket]

Charlie: Thank you Adam! Thank you dad!

She gave each one a hug. Lucifer noticed that instead of hugging Adam tightly, it was a soft, quick hug. But Adam looked more than fine with it. He looked relieved.

Charlie: I'll go let everyone know!

Lucifer smiled to his daughter as she left. He was alone with Adam again.

Lucifer: I've been wondering... what's with the whole touch thing?

Adam: ...Tad personal, don't you think?

Lucifer: Wouldn't know. Is it?

Adam: ...no, I guess not. It's just not something I thought you'd bring up. Or notice.

Lucifer: You tense at any form of touch, you're not that sneaky about it.

Adam: I don't try to be sneaky about it. I just don't usually show my emotions... especially my discomfort. I suppose after my holiday, I've gotten a little sloppy.

Lucifers eyes narrow as Adam laughs.

Lucifer: So. Why don't you like people touching you?

Adam: ...I was the first new angel in a long time, and I guess everyone was delighted. They'd touch me, push me around, tug on my clothes, pull my wings, and poke my face. They said I looked too human... I was a Seraphim... they've never made one look so... strange before. People theorized that Sera missed the first humans so she used their design for me. But I don't know how true that is.

Lucifer: You never asked?

Adam: We all know what happens when you ask questions, Lucifer. I wasn't going to risk it. I knew what I was. I always felt the Fathers holy powers and light inside of me. I was an angel. A Seraphim. And now I'm not.

Lucifer: ...so, you don't like touch because-

Adam: They never stopped touching me. Coming there, I was able to scare enough people to stay away from me. They'd even run away before I got close. It's fantastic. Unfortunately, some people here don't share the same fear... but I don't find myself hating it as much... I think I care about the sinners here. I don't mind them being close to me. Or sharing a drink with them. One even stopped touching me when I asked.

Lucifer: Who was that?

Adam: Angel. He's very sexual. But I know that's not the real him. He's very interesting. But he used to get into my personal space and make crude comments. I asked him to stop, and he instantly backed up and apologized. No one has ever done that. They don't back up unless I change forms, and they don't apologize until I'm eating their organs! Not that I mind, but it doesn't have to be so complicated! Angel showed me that.

Adam sighed.

Adam: I don't mind touch... I've just had a lot of people... take advantage when I was in Heaven... amd when I first fell. I'm not used to nice touches. So, I might still be tense, but I'm learning. I'm trusting these people more and more.

Lucifer: You nearly died for them, Adam... I never thanked you for that.

Adam: I didn't do it for thanks. I'm the manager here. I've been put in charge of protecting everyone at this hotel. It was my job.

Lucifer: ...you could have ran.

Adam: And be a coward? Please. He landed a couple of lucky hits. And so did I... besides, I'll be having the last laugh in a few days~.

Lucifer: Oh?

Adam: I'll be treating myself, Your Highness. It'll be the first man for dinner!

Lowkey want an au where Adam has Alastors' powers.

The tentacles

The eyes

The changing size

The shadows

The sass

The deal making

Him owning Husk and Nifty

The musical numbers

The radio control

The tentacles- have I mentioned that before?

The rivalry with Lucifer

Maybe he replaces Alastor entirely. No Alastor. Only Adam. It's always been Adam.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

Only Adam lol This is good! His Husk and Nifty could be Lute and Peter.

He doesn't have to smile all the time does he?

Yessss, and he plays rock instead of jazz lol And yes of course there is a rivalry lol

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

Hell Is A Teenage Girl - Prologue

series summary: Y/n is finally a part of the most popular clique in school, something she’s always wanted. The only catch is they’re total airheaded bitches, making her dream life not everything she had dreamt it would be. But when new girl Hazel Callahan finds her way into y/n’s life, everything changes.

chapter summary: Brittany has made it her mission to make Annie’s life miserable, and she’s forcing y/n to help. Hazel watches the chaos unfold in the cafeteria and decides that everyone at this school is just as horrible as everyone at her last one. Well, everyone except y/n.

warnings: bullying, crying, language, jeff and tim talk about girls in a really disgusting way

word count: 1.3k

a/n: fem!reader, ik this chapter is kinda short but i wanted to stop teasing this series and finally put some of it out! i’ll try to make the next one longer, but i can’t necessarily guarantee that. i hope you enjoy!!!

******

Dear Diary,

Brittany told me that she teaches people real life. She said real life sucks losers dry. If you wanna fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly. I said so you teach people how to spread their wings and fly. She said yes. I said you’re beautiful.

Sitting on the bleachers in the gym, y/n scribbled her thoughts down in her diary. Being a part of the most popular clique in school surely had its perks, but it’d be a lot more enjoyable if her friends weren’t such uptight bitches. Stella Rebecca and Isabel weren’t so bad, sometimes y/n could actually stand being around them. Brittany was the problem. The queen of Rockbridge Falls. She was a mythic bitch.

“Come on, y/n!” Stella Rebecca said, startling y/n.

“Geez, what’s your problem?”

Stella Rebecca sighed. “Don’t blame me, blame Brittany. She told me to haul your ass to the caf pronto.”

Isabel nodded. “She said she needs to talk to you.”

Y/n sighed, closing her diary and slipping it into her bag. “What is it this time?”

Isabel smiled. “Brittany found out Annie has a crush on Tim. She’s going to destroy her.”

Huffing, y/n followed Stella Rebecca and Isabel to the cafeteria, a pit forming in her stomach. Because of her insanely high IQ, she had the unique ability to be able to copy anyone’s handwriting exactly, a talent she always found useless. Brittany, however, just loved to use that to her advantage; whether that be making y/n write her an absence note, or in this case using it to utterly humiliate someone.

Brittany grinned, her bright red lipstick accentuating her already perfect smile, as she saw Isabel and Stella Rebecca approaching, y/n in tow.

“There you are, I’ve been waiting.”

Y/n forced a smile. “Hey Brittany.”

“I got my hands on a paper of Tim Phunk’s. I need you to forge a hot and horny, yet realistic note in Tim’s handwriting and we’ll slip it onto Annie’s lunch tray,” Brittany said, grinning wickedly.

”Shit, Brittany. I don’t have anything against Annie, she’s one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met.”

Brittany huffed impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well it’s not like you have anything for her either. Just do it, it’s going to be hilarious.”

”I’ll think about it.”

”Don’t think.”

Y/n glanced over at Annie, cheerfully chatting to Sylvie in the lunch line, blissfully unaware of the plot being formed against her. Brittany held out a pen and a piece of paper, and y/n reaches for it almost involuntarily, having been practically brainwashed to do Brittany’s bidding.

Brittany grinned, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Good choice. I’ll tell you what to write. Y/n needs something to write on. Isabel, bend over.”

Sighing to herself, Isabel turned around and bent over, presenting her back to y/n to write on. Y/n placed the paper on Isabel’s outstretched back, waiting for Brittany to dictate what she wanted her to write.

~

”Think she’ll ever talk to me?” Josie wondered aloud, her gaze fixed upon Isabel.

PJ scoffed. “Who? Isabel? Not a chance. No way in hell are you getting the attention of someone as popular as her.”

Josie sighed, turning to look at PJ. “As if you have any better of a chance.”

PJ smirked cockily. “Are you forgetting that I went out with Brittany?”

“Yeah, on one date. And then she never talked to you again,” Josie said with a laugh.

“She still could, you never know. At least I have more of a chance than you.”

Josie chuckled to herself, turning her attention back to Isabel. “Whatever you wanna tell yourself.”

“What are they even doing? Why is y/n writing on Isabel’s back? There’s a table right there,” PJ grumbled.

Josie paid closer attention, noticing how Brittany kept glancing back at Annie and laughing, and frowned. Of fucking course. For the past few months, Annie had been Brittany’s main target because for some reason she had decided to utterly destroy her. Now Josie wasn’t exactly friends with Annie, the two barely saying a word to each other outside of class, but she still cared about her. Annie was one of the nicest people she’d ever met, definitely not someone who deserved being targeted so heavily. Though she had never said a word to her, Josie hoped that Isabel wasn’t as enthusiastic about this plan as Brittany was.

”Probably another plan to humiliate Annie. I wish Brittany would grow up and finally stop making everyone miserable.”

PJ huffed in annoyance, slapping Josie’s arm with the back of her hand. “Hey! Don’t talk about her like that. She’s perfect just the way she is.”

~

Hazel sat in the corner of the cafeteria, picking at her lunch with disinterest. Not even one week at her new school and she could already see through everyone here. The popular kids and the so-called “losers”, this whole social hierarchy bullshit, she’d seen it at every other high school she’d been to and it was always the same. A small group of painfully fake assholes running the school and making the lives of everyone around them miserable. She was fucking tired of it.

Watching in mild amusement over the stupidity of the whole thing, Hazel watched as one of the cheerleaders, Stella something?, took a folded up piece of paper and snuck it onto another girl's, Amy’s?, lunchtray. The girl didn’t even seem to notice, continuing to walk with her friend, engaged in a cheerful discussion.

Rushing over to her two cheerleader friends, and someone else?, Hazel watched as they laughed, their eyes locked onto the girl. Well, the cheerleaders laughed. The fourth girl with them, however, didn’t even seem amused. No longer bothering to pay attention to the situation at hand, Hazel found her eyes drawn to her. She was pretty cute. Extremely cute, in fact. Plus, she didn’t seem to be getting off on this crude display of bullying. No, she was different.

Hazel couldn’t help but want to know more about her.

~

Jeff and Tim sat together, staring at y/n and the cheerleaders, gleefully talking about them to each other in the most crude manner, not seeming to give a thought to the fact that they were real people and not just some dolls they could fuck.

“I wanna set Brittany on my johnson and start spinning her like a fucking pinwheel,” Tim said, staring directly at her.

“Hell yes. It’d be so fucking hot to be in a y/n-Brittany sandwich. Punch it in!” Jeff said, a smile on his face as he held his fist out towards his best friend.

Tim slammed his fist against Jeff’s, not processing his words until a moment later. “Wait. Dude, aren’t you still dating Isabel?”

Jeff shrugged. “So? She doesn’t have to know I think her friends are hot.”

Tim sighed, shaking his head. “Bro, she barely took you back the last time you cheated on her. Just be careful to make sure she never finds out.”

”Relax, she won’t.”

Annie approached the table, a nervous smile on her face and a slightly crumpled note held in her shaky hand. “Hey Tim…”

~

Hazel’s gaze was pulled away from the girl when she heard a horrendous, barking laughter. Turning to the table it came from, she saw… Annie! that was her name!, Annie standing in front of two jocks, one of them holding the note she was given, as they laughed in her face, the cheerleaders soon joining in. Annie’s face dropped, tears welling in her eyes as she bolted out of the cafeteria, a girl with long blonde hair wearing a beanie running after her.

Everyone kept laughing, everyone except for the pretty girl that caught her eye. She really was different. But everyone else at this godforsaken school, they were exactly like she thought they’d be. Cold-blooded monsters. Something needed to be done about them. And Hazel was going to be the one to do it.

tags: @hazelvrr @ohnomywenis @fictionalgap @ihyperfixatetoomuch @usuck @mxqdii @girlsarecool @thestarkinternship @bluerazberrystarz @riverrivrio @cannibalsclass @lesbodietcoke @dangladam

join my taglist!

[livesworthlivingau]

Behind the Vale Chapter 34

You know the drill, Spoilers for all of ISAT, etc. CW: Confused Pining? Sparring Scene/Consensual Violence. I SHOULD NOTE THAT THE PINING AND CONSENSUAL VIOLENCE ARE NOT RELATED!!!

"So, how was your little chat with Eclipse last night~?"

"It went well actually," [Blind it!] "how was sharing a tent with Nille for the first time~?" [STARS BLINDING CRAB!!! You immediately feel your face begin to burn.]

"You could at least humor me when I try to tease you, you know!"

"Hah! Not so fun on the other end, is it~?" [You cross your arms and pout. It wasn't fair how difficult they were to fluster now.]

"... Wait... what do you mean it went 'well'?"

"Well... I talked about what I was going to talk about back then... a-and uhh... they weren't... against it." [His face begins to darken instead. Hah! It's working!... Wait what is he talking about?]

"Against, what exactly?"

"Uhm... M-Maybe we shouldn't really talk about this! Th-That was a whole loop ago, it never really happened technically, j-just forget about it!"

"Hah~! I haven't seen you this flustered in a long time~. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were falling for me, Stardust~." [His face burns darker as he falls silent.] "... This is the part where you refute that, Stardust."

"... W-Well... the thing is... uhhh..." [Your own face grows just as dark.]

"... Truce to never speak of this again?"

"Y-Yup! Truce!" [You both stop acknowledging each other as you break off. Stardust heads off towards Eclipse and the Housemaiden, while you head towards Nille, Flare, and, ugh, the Researcher... Fantastic. Nille perks up at your approach.]

"Hey Vay, what were you and Sif talking about?"

"Absolutely nothing~! Next question~!"

"That bad, huh? Alright, I won't pry. Though speaking of, Dile here was hoping to get some info out of you." [Of course she is...]

"Yes, Petronille has informed me that you're a paper type now. I've never heard of someone changing their craft type before, but there's a lot of topics that would apply to in the last few months. I was hoping you might like to spar sometime." [Wonderful, here comes the interro-wait what did she just say?]

"You... want to spar with me?"

"Yes. In Ka Bue, it is believed that there's no better way to understand someone than by the way they Craft. I may not believe in all the sentimentality behind it, but watching someone Craft can make for quite an impression. Perhaps it could even answer some questions you have about yourself."

"... I don't think that would be for the best. I'd rather not hurt any of you."

"I don't doubt your time in the loops has given you an advantage when it comes to experience, but I'm sure I could hold my own long enough to get what I'd need. Besides, Mirabelle can help ensure nothing goes too far." [Your expression does very little to hide your hesitance about the idea.] "So you don't want to prove how different you are from Siffrin now?"

"What?"

"I've seen how Siffrin Crafts for months now, I'd be able to spot it in a moment. So why don't you show me just how different you are now?" [You know exactly what she's trying to do... yet her goading still succeeds in spite of that.]

"Fine, then spar we shall~."

"DILE'S GONNA KICK VALE'S CRABBING BUTT!" [Flare shouts as Nille chuckles with a shake of her head.]

"Can't say I'm not excited to see how this plays out."

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

[You stand at one end of a clearing, the Researcher at the opposite end. Everyone else eagerly gathered into a little group nearby to watch. You perk up as Nille calls out.]

"Go easy on them, Dile! They've only been in a fight or two since the Change!" [Excuse us?!]

"Thanks for the vote of confidence?!"

"Hah! Well it's true!"

"Vale seemed rather worried about hurting me earlier, so I don't intend to hold back. Besides, if they do then this whole research project would be null and void. I need to see you at your best, so don't pull any punches!" [The Researcher calls out in a demanding tone, one similar to a teacher encouraging a student. You're unsure why, but it starts to light a fire within you.]

"Alright." [You draw your whip and hold out a paper sign with your other hand.] "Ready when you are, Researcher!"

"Would you mind counting us down, Boniface?" [Flare jumps to their feet eagerly. A very excited grin across their face.]

"One!" [Wait...]

"Two!" [We just remembered...]

"Three!" [WE DON'T HAVE ANY CRAFT SKILLS OF OUR OWN!]

[You begin to panic as the Researcher starts to rush towards you. You see her hands move in a familiar way, and without thinking to go to copy it. You need every advantage you can get as you both SLOW IV each other with the exact same method. She raises a brow as she realized what happened.]

"Huh. No, no that would make sense. You must have seen me use that craft countless times, of course you'd learn how to emulate it. This still isn't exactly helping this experiment though, show me your craft, Vale!"

"I... don't really have any yet..."

"Then you best come up with something fast!" [She threatens and makes a scissors sign, slicing a streak of SCISSORS III towards you. You barely manage to dive out of the way thanks to that heavy feeling slowing you down, leaving you wide open for the next attack.]

[She swings her open palm down towards you just as a PAPER III blast slams down onto your back.] "GAH!" [It stings, but no where near as much as that earlier strike would have. You shake off the craft weighing you down and quickly get back to your feet. You notice she still has the SLOW on her, you have an opening!]

[You crack your whip a few times, sending waves of Paper Craft towards her. She only manages to block one, taking the full brunt of the other two. She slides back across the dirt and falls to a knee. Despite this, a grin crosses her face as she looks back up at you.]

"Now we're getting somewhere, keep it up Vale. Show me what you're capable of." [She commands yet again, getting back up and flashing another scissors sign. The Craft comes flying at you quickly, slamming into your stomach and causing you to fly back, slamming into a tree.]

"Ugh... Oh you'll pay for that one Researcher!" [You're injured now, but it only strengthens the fire within you. You focus your intent into the tip of your whip before lashing it out, sending an intense wave of pure Creative Craft towards her. Even as she blocks it, it manages to deal a good amount of damage. You don't let up, you snap your whip again and again, sending smaller blasts but trying to overwhelm her. She evades the first few only to stop in her tracks and SLOW IV you yet again, taking a couple hits to do so.]

"You're getting desperate, good! You're showing your true self now!" [You grumble as you feel that same weight again, like your whole body was moving through sludge. You can't take another big hit, you look around to find some sort of advantage... You crack your whip once more, and as she goes to defend, it swings upwards and blasts the tree behind her, sending an explosion of leaves to surround and distract her. You move as quick as you can in this addled state to hide behind a tree until it wears off.]

"Clever. You fight like a cornered animal, yet you still manage to find and use any advantage you can." [Why do we feel like a book being read right now?...] "I haven't had a good fight since Dormont, I appreciate you indulging me with this." [You take a few breaths to help shake the craft off of you.]

"My pleasure, I just can't wait to wipe that grin off of your face~!" [You call out, whip ready as you focus your craft into it again. Just as expected you feel a heavy blast of Craft slam against the tree you hid behind. You tuck and roll back out into the open and prepare to strike!... Wait, where did she go?]

WHACK [You're suddenly smacked upside the head with another PAPER III, knocking you over as you grip your head.] "OW! CHEAP SHOT!"

"You think you're the only one who can use tactics?" [She smirks, stepping out from behind a very different tree than you expected. She holds her free hand in a paper sign.] "Now time to finish this."

[You prepare to defend, you're weak but you could take another hit of PAPER III if you're ready for it... until you notice her hand moving different than usual. You glance over at her hand holding her book, which was hiding the Scissors sign she was actually using to power the craft! By the time you realize her trick, the piercing energy was already heading directly towards you.]

[You panic, without thinking you act, a wave of Craft flowing out of you and into your whip. LION TAMER! You lash out your whip, coiling around the attack itself. You guide it off course, and hold on tightly as it spins around your form, releasing it as it flies directly back at the Researcher. She was too surprised by what you did to even try blocking it, landing a direct hit with her own attack and leaving her K.O.ed across the grass... You blink a few times as you still aren't even sure what you just did.]

"M'dame!" [The Housemaiden quickly hops up and rushes over to her side, starting to pump healing craft into the downed Researcher. Flare is close behind with the pack of tonics in case it's needed. You look down at your hands and whip, still just lost in the shock and adrenaline of what you'd just done. You stumble as a heavy pat hits your back.]

"Holy crab! Where have you been hiding that one, Vay?!"

"I... I have no idea... Is... Is she okay?" [You look back over to her, Flare and the Housemaiden are helping her up to a sitting position. She looks spent but otherwise awake and aware. You hesitate before walking over.] "I-I'm sorry, I didn't realize I could even do that, are you-" [You're interrupted as she raises a hand to stop you.]

"That was exactly what I asked for, thank you for assisting me with this experiment. I think we've both learned a lot from it, Vale." [She has a satisfied smile painted across her face.]

"Yes, that was... certainly an experience, thank you for helping me find myself like this, Comet." [She raises a brow at the end of your statement.] "A nickname, if you don't mind me using it..." [She shares a look with you, understanding the importance you give to these silly nicknames. She smiles and nods.]

"Of course, now go enjoy your victory, I need to rest and gather my thoughts properly." [She says with a huff, trying to play off the feelings much like you do.]

"Of course, rest well~." [You head back to Nille as you hear Flare begin shouting behind you.]

"Diiiile! I can't believe you let Vale beat you! What the crab!"

Huge thank you to @itstheval for inspiring the fight scene and coming up with Craft Skills for Vale!! His fan chapters are wonderful and the skills he came up with are so goooood!

[senseandaccountability]

the healer has the bloodiest hands

I wrote some thoughts after the finale of Veilguard. Solavellan heavy.

This is just me, parsing through some feelings. "My people had a saying long ago -'The healer has the bloodiest hands'. You cannot treat a wound without knowing how deep it goes. You cannot heal pain by hiding it. You must accept. Accept the blood to make things better."  Solas to Thom Rainer in DAI.  ***

One can wonder, of course, what Mythal has to do with a Solavellan reunion and Solas’s choice to become the Veil’s protector, but hear me out. 

It is significant that it’s Mythal because she is the embodiment of his terrible past, the epitome of their brilliance and boldness and good intentions turned to terrible truths. The horrors they did, they did together. It is significant that it’s Mythal that sets him on this new course by removing the chains of his guilt and regret. Lavellan can’t do that, she didn’t forge them. Solas’s journey as the Dread Wolf begins and ends with Mythal. 

Mythal literally pulls Solas out of the Fade to use his wisdom, first to not lose herself to the other gods' vanity and brutality, then to gain advantage against them in an endless power struggle that breaks them both, I’d argue, though most significantly it breaks Solas. Retribution and revenge has no room for understanding, there is no wisdom in conquering. And Solas, for all his faults, isn’t brutal or cruel, doesn’t want power for his own gain. Instead he’s wise and creative, doomed to see the faults of his actions even as he carries them out, arguing in vain that the Evanuris too must see it - don’t cross these lines, don’t do it like this, don’t warp and twist your powers to forces of destruction. You must know this is madness! He objects to the creation of the bodies for the ancient elves, objects his own People’s physical creation. Did the earth not shake? It did, it was horrific and it was wrong and he knows this and it doesn’t matter. What he wants has never been part of the equation. 

Even when he breaks free from Mythal, when he burns her mark off his face, he never stops fighting for the world she once wanted. Because otherwise? Should he stop? Then all that he has done, all that he has given up, all that has been demanded of him both as Mythal’s lapdog and the Dread Wolf, leader of the rebel armies for centuries, cloaked in a persona of strategy and battle orders - all of that has been for nothing. He has made a ruin of himself, of the world, for nothing.  So he begins again, he picks up the pieces, he swears to make it right, to fix what he broke. That’s how he perceives healing, that’s what he thinks he is doing. But you cannot heal pain by hiding it. That’s why the Crossroads are falling apart with the manifestations of Solas’s greatest regrets, that’s why he needs Rook to escape his own prison, that’s why a Regret demon burns through Skyhold.

Solas traps the Evanuris as a final act of the ancient times, the creation of the Veil an embodiment of everything he and Mythal ever were - protection, benevolence, retribution, wisdom, pride. He ties it to the blood of the Firstborn out of spite and anger and it wrecks the world in ways he could not foresee. In ways he cannot fix because you cannot fix what has already happened.

You must accept. Accept the blood to make things better. He holds himself like a broken thing in front of Mythal and you can see it as submissive or as a man finally letting his grief out. There, at long last, he stands beaten and bloodied and blighted and he cries for all that was lost, all that he did and all that was done to him, all the things he cannot, cannot undo. And then: a new way forward.

In willingly binding himself to the Veil he embodies the best of those old myths, the All-Mother and the Breaker of Chains, as he breaks the cycle of punishment and grief and protects the sun and the moon. This oath, as opposed to the oaths of the empire that made him, is not to someone but to everyone, to all the innocents of the world. Instead of being the one who makes the terrible sacrifices of other people - the things I have done - he becomes the protector of the world that his people broke once upon a time. Instead of being the Creator of a new world without the Veil - the god he vehemently does not want to be, that he arguably thinks nobody should be - he becomes a caretaker, a guardian. A healer with bloody hands. And yes, it takes Mythal to break Mythal’s hold over him. You cannot treat a wound without knowing how deep it goes. And this one goes deep.  But it’s Lavellan who brings him the light in this story. It’s Lavellan who breaks through the dark, transforms it into something hopeful. 

His prison construct in the Fade was terrible, an abyss of regret made to hold a god. An ancient punishment for ancient crimes but times change, people change, the People change for better and for worse and here Lavellan stands in all her mortal imperfection, offering him not a way to change the past - where all these ancient beings are stuck - but a way to mend the future. It will be a terrible place, he tells her, saying I am terrible because the Fade shifts around our beings. It won’t be terrible, Lavellan argues. Because I’m there with you, walking the dinan’shiral with you, all the way. He doesn't have to fix anything first, he doesn't have to change for her, he just needs to stop hurting the world, hurting himself. Because she loves him, despite all the terrible mistakes he has made. Because she knows all his names, from Dread Wolf to Vhenan, she knows the power of his mind and the fires of his love and she saw more than most of the man he is. The man he wants to be. For a little slice of time there in Skyhold he was that man, he was seen and he saw. He saw the world filtered through her and could forgive it, he saw her through his own ancient, tired eyes and he fell in love no matter how much he thought he did not deserve it. You don't have to deserve love, or mercy, it doesn't demand anything in return, holds you to no oath. It is a gift, freely given. That's what Lavellan offers him by holding out her hand there, at the edge of everything. That's where the light slips in.

She’s real, which means everyone is real and she changes everything, because she can.  Ar lasa mala revas. 

[thecoolerliauditore]

Honestly I love this episode just for the crazy invis potion B plot: Martyn immediatly tries to use the snails to his advantage to get people killed, Etho sees this and being the genius he is wonders if they can turn the snails invisible, they go to the Nether to collect blaze rods, then in the overworld Martyn spends most of his episode looking for potion ingredients, and when Ren is in yellow gives him the potions. After a few attempts at distracting Pearl and Impulse, Martyn tells Ren to throw it at a random snail that is passing by, but they don't think it did anything. They actually finish the episode thinking the plan has failed, but at the same time, Scar is killed by an invisible snail, that then almost kills him again causing Grian to end the session in a panik. Like the insane invis potion strat working is so evil and funny

Oh this brings up a point I wanted to touch on actually. Didn't really mention it in my Martyn essay cus this more applies to the CC than the character but I really appreciate the guy's creativity? Not like. necessarily in an artistic sense (although I've heard he's picked up some stuff in that regard too -- idk someone who keeps up more with him would know better) but the way he like. approaches problems like he's solving a puzzle and the outcome being the funniest or most interesting way he could go about this.

The creeper soundboard early in 3L, him spearheading a lot of the Southlanders life-trading trust system in LL and of course the invisibility potion. He's got like this sense of craftiness to him that I find really fun and can appreciate.

This turned from a post about the new gimmick to just being a martyn appreciation post LMAO but it's whatever I think that's like. Cool.

[snekdood]

bitches be like “well, snake thinks this is bad, so there must be some sort of positive spin on it, actually”

[quietwingsinthesky]

i really do think the desire to paint ten as unambiguously The Worst™️ when it comes to his relationship with martha is out of this desire to uncomplicate their relationship. to decouple them as friends and people who profoundly impacted each other’s lives. it’s just an easier narrative to swallow: that ten was Awful to her and then martha kicked him to the curb when she realized she was too good for him. easier, maybe, then dealing with the troubles of unrequited affection don’t have to be anyone’s fault, or that ten shut martha out in a lot of ways but let her in in others that he wouldn’t let any other companion near, or that they were still friends, they still wanted to see each other and be around each other, even though it was messy and sometimes hurt. you know?

[flowachild]

working with my period instead of against it has been so healing

[lususnatura]

🎤 🎤 🎤

a song that i associate with my muse meme!

AHH, hey, ramone!! thank you for sending in this prompt :D since you sent in three of the mic's, i shall now be treating you to three songs that make me think of blamore when i hear them / that i associate with it. an explanation of why i chose them will be in the tags <3

hozier - who we are.

icehouse - crazy.

depeche mode - personal jesus.

[exopelagic]

sudden realisation that the thing holding my art back is that I never had an anime phase

[aedelia]

If people can understand the advice to not ever say yes or anything that could count as agreement when answering a potential scam call for the fear that your answer is going to be recorded and used to steal/get things from you and/or ruin your life, then why do they struggle to understand why artists and actors and voice actors don't want AI generated things made using them or their work, especially without their consent?

If you're still in the "This doesn't affect me so I don't have an opinion" or "I don't care about this issue" camp. Well.

Let me make this real relatable.

You have a Facebook account or Instagram or YouTube and sometimes you upload silly videos of yourself or your friends or let's plays or anything that you talk in. Maybe you stream. Maybe you're just in someone else's videos. Someone with a little money and bad intentions finds your videos and feeds them to an AI.

The AI having no concept of right or wrong as it is just a complicated bit bunch of programming learns your voice, how you talk, what tones you use, any weird quirky ways you pronounce certain sounds, what pitch is natural to you, how fast you talk. All of it.

Then the person with bad intentions has the AI generate a recording of you saying something that you never would. Perhaps they want you to endorse their political candidate or opinion. Maybe they are going to try to scam money from one of your relatives using your voice. Maybe they want proof that you agreed to buy their thing. Maybe they want to frame you for a crime or establish their own alibi.

Maybe it's just some trolls on the internet that ruin people's lives for fun and they just happened to find you an easy target.

This is already affecting real people's lives and I could go on further about the potential ways it could be abused. You should care about this. It might not be today, tomorrow, next week, or even next year, but at some point this could happen to any of us amd we'd better hope some sort of protections are in place.

listen I say this with patience bc some people may genuinely have not thought about this before but if you firmly say “AI art is terribly unethical and steals from artists” (which is correct) but then turn around and use voice AIs to generate songs/voice lines that sound like your favourite voice actors or singers……………………………………that is also AI art and it is also terribly unethical

[fireinmoonshot]

death wish love | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: As members of rival storm chasing groups, you and Tyler Owens have hated each other since the start – well, you were supposed to. Little do you know, Tyler has been head over heels for you for months, and it's only when he nearly loses you that he realises he's done with pretending to hate you. Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood, tornadoes (of course), Tyler is actually painfully obvious with his crush but thinks he's not at all. Word Count: 6.7k (I don't know how that happened) A/N: I had this idea for a fic a few days ago and when I was listening to the Twisters soundtrack as I wrote, I realised that the song Death Wish Love fits it perfectly. I did not intend for this to be so long, but it somehow just happened. It's probably one of the longest things I've written on this blog, so I hope anyone that reads it really enjoys it. I had so much fun writing it and playing around in the Twisters universe! I will definitely be writing more for Tyler.

One of these days, Tyler Owens was going to get his shit together and ask you out. There were, however, several things in the way. The most pressing being the fact that your storm chasing groups were rivals and had been for years.

The fact that you hated his guts would be the second. 

He was unaware that you didn’t hate him quite as much as you made out to, though. It was just that you had a reputation to uphold. Being the unofficial leader of The Thunder Team, your friends and fellow storm chasers all expected you to dislike the Tornado Wranglers just as much as they did.

And you had – in the start. 

You were just beginning your PhD, fairly fresh in the world of storm chasing and the rivalry between your teams had been there from the very beginning. To your team, the Tornado Wranglers were nothing more than a bunch of stupid kids who didn’t even have the correct knowledge to be chasing these tornadoes.

To you, they had slowly become something of a wonder. You didn’t think it was necessary to have a PhD or education under your belt in order to storm chase. As long as you loved it, that was enough. And you never doubted the love that the Tornado Wranglers had for it. 

But still, the rivalry continued. It was always a competition. Who could get to the tornado first? Who could get closer? Who had better instincts when it came to choosing which one to chase? Who could get more attention on social media with their photos and videos?

The Tornado Wranglers had an advantage on that one.

That never stopped your team trying, though. Which is exactly what they’re doing as you walk towards them from where you’ve just parked your car. They’re all crowded around the van in the motel parking lot. Robbie, one of your closest friends, is filming Ally talking about something, probably regarding the EF1 tornado you’d chased today. 

You stop far enough away that you aren’t going to end up in the background of the video, and that’s when Tyler Owens sidles up beside you, arms crossed over his chest.

“Not interested in going viral?”

You glance up at him and notice he’s already looking at you with a cocky grin on his irritatingly handsome face. “No, figured I’d leave that to you and your team. Shoot any fireworks up a tornado today? I didn’t see you out there.”

“I didn’t realise you were looking.” 

There’s something strange in his tone of voice, but when you look at him again, there’s nothing in his face to give away the reason. 

“I wasn’t,” you huff. “It’s just that I see your giant red truck everywhere when I’m trying to get good photos of the tornadoes and it’s quite obvious when you’re not there.” 

Tyler smiles to himself. “Why don’t you come chasing with us one day, then? My truck won’t end up in your photos if you’re taking photos from inside it.”

You laugh. “That is the last thing I would want to do.” A lie. You’ve thought about it several times in the past.

“Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that and one day you might actually believe it.”

You narrow your eyes at him but make no move to walk away from him. Your team are still filming and you’d rather stay away until they’re finished, even if it means standing with Tyler Owens until they are. 

“You guys gonna stop by the rodeo tomorrow night?” Tyler breaks the silence. 

You shrug your shoulders. “Depends on how tomorrow goes. You?”

He nods. “Yeah, we probably will, even if tomorrow doesn’t go to plan. You know my team. We love a night out.”

The weather tomorrow was predicted to be a good one for storm chasers – thunderstorms with heavy rain and likely a tornado as well, if the conditions were good enough. You were all hoping that they were. 

“My guys are less likely to go if they know your team is going, you know?” You look at Tyler, noticing the way that he’s watching your team, who are now laughing at something that Ally had said for the video. “We are still rivals.” 

“Did you think I needed a reminder?” He chuckles.

“Why? Am I being too nice to you?”

Tyler grins, one of those ones that makes you feel a little funny in your stomach. Like butterflies – but you don’t get butterflies from people you dislike. 

“Oh, darlin', you’re always a delight.”

You roll your eyes. “Want me to get you a shovel so you can start digging yourself a hole?” 

He holds up his hands in mock surrender and laughs. “Sorry, sorry,” he grins. “You wanna grab one for yourself so you can help me? I’d love the company.”

You open your mouth to reply about how much you’d love to help just as you catch Robbie’s eye. He’s quick to call out your name, beckoning you over, and you have no choice but to listen to him and leave Tyler. You’ve already stood here talking to him long enough and the last thing you want is your team thinking that you’re colluding with the Tornado Wranglers. 

“Gotta go,” you nod your head towards your group. “Good luck tomorrow.”

Tyler bids you good luck as well and watches as you head over towards your group, all of them eyeing him as you reach them. He tips his hat at Robbie, who is watching him with judging eyes, and turns on his heel, heading back to his own team to get a well needed beer.

—

When Tyler gets back to his team, he realises that they were all watching him. They all give him questioning looks as he grabs a beer out of the cooler. 

“What? I got something on my face?”

“Yeah, it sure is written all over your face,” Boone says.

Tyler frowns. “What is?”

“Oh, don’t try and lie to us, Ty,” Dani adds.

He shakes his head and takes a seat on one of the fold up chairs beside his truck. He’s smart enough to see what they’re getting at – the way he’d been there talking with you for so long. His friends are smart too. But hopefully not smart enough to see through the facade Tyler puts up to try and convince them that he still dislikes you. 

“Her, Ty? Really? She’s from the Thunder Team.” Boone stares Tyler down.

Tyler has no choice. “Okay, no,” he sighs and takes a long swig of his beer. “We were just talking, and I was just messing around with her.” He was also trying to get the courage to ask you to the rodeo, just the two of you, but he’d chickened out at the last second. “She definitely still hates us, judging by her reaction.”

Truth is, Tyler Owens has been harbouring a secret crush on you for the better part of a year now. It had snuck up on him. He’d hated you at first, thought you were just another stuck up storm chasing student, especially when he found out you were studying for your PhD. But after spending so much time around you, something had changed and all of a sudden, you had a hold over him that you didn’t even realise you had. 

It drives Tyler insane. 

The way he feels when he looks at you is definitely not the way he should be feeling about anyone, letalone the leader of a rival storm chasing team. But here he is. 

The passion he’d seen in your eyes when you’d been chasing storms. The way you talked about them in your captions on social media when you posted photos you’d taken. Even the way you made time to learn more about them through school while being on the road so often.

He was well aware that he was supposed to hate you. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it anymore.

“You sure that’s all it was?” 

“A hundred percent, Boone.”

He’s thankful when the conversation moves away from you and the Thunder Team. It lets him sit in his own thoughts for a few minutes until he’ll undoubtedly be brought back into the conversation for one reason or another. 

He’s unable to stop his eyes from drifting over to you and your team. You’ve taken a seat on the back of a truck, watching safely from behind the camera as Robbie films Ally again. He tries hard not to smile at the look on your face as you watch your friends, laughing along with the others. The last thing he needs right now is for one of his team to catch him grinning at you like an idiot, especially after convincing them that there’s nothing going on.  

He realises, then, that he’s already in way too deep.

—

The last thing you expect when you wake up the next morning is to find out that your team made a bet with the Tornado Wranglers when you had gone to bed. 

It’d been raining for most of the night, the ground covered in mud and puddles. The sky was dark and you could just feel that the conditions were perfect for a tornado. You had a good feeling that today would be the day.

Until you learnt about the bet.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you guys alone.”

Robbie laughs, nearly choking on the piece of bacon he’d been eating. You’ve all come to a nearby diner to fuel up on both food and gas for your cars before what was supposed to be a long day of storm chasing. You have a feeling that it won’t be now that the bet exists.

“Okay, technically it was their fault,” Ally offers.

“Explain.”

“So, we’d had a few drinks, and they had clearly also been drinking, and Harry and I were heading over to the bathrooms to clean up before going to bed – because dental hygiene is important!” Ally begins, forgetting all about her half eaten plate of food. “We were almost there when they called out to us – I forget their names. The blond guy and the one with the mustache, the cute one. Anyway, they suggested a bet. Whoever could hold their liquor the best gets to choose which direction the other team chases in today.”

You stare at Ally. “And you said yes.”

She winces, and then shovels a fork full of eggs into her mouth, nodding so she doesn’t have to give you a proper answer. 

Your team is usually quite well behaved. But even the best of people could get taken advantage of, and you’ve seen it many times first hand with the Tornado Wranglers.  They can hold their liquor very well and wake up the next day with very little consequences from doing so. You’re honestly surprised Ally is even functioning. Harry, on the other hand, you haven’t seen all morning. Unsurprisingly, your team had obviously lost.

“Which direction are we going, then?”

“That’s the catch,” Robbie interjects. “They choose for us before we go. They get to look at the radar first and decide which way is going to be best. And naturally, they’re going to send us in the direction far away from the best chance.” 

You groan and let your head fall into your hands, beginning to ponder your options. You can either deal with the bet and get sent in the entirely wrong direction, or…

Without a second thought, you’re pushing yourself up from the table and heading towards the door of the diner.

“Where are you going!?” Robbie calls after you.

“I’m going to fix this mess!” 

—

Tyler greets you with a smile that is way too cheerful for both the time of the morning that it is and the situation.

“To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine morning, darlin'?” He asks, leaning up against his truck. He’s holding a coffee in one hand. Good to know he’s human. You’re not surprised that he doesn’t look hungover at all. The man practically resembles a God. 

“Wouldn’t call it a pleasure, honey,” you sigh, deciding to use a nickname just like he always uses for you. You cross your arms over your chest as you stop in front of him. “This bet you made with my team last night. I want it called off.”

Tyler’s breath catches in his throat at the sound of the word honey coming out of your mouth, directed at him. He clears his throat, trying to ignore the way it feels to hear you calling him that. “No can do, I’m afraid. We Tornado Wranglers don’t back down on bets.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’m asking nicely.”

“I think you can ask a little nicer. Maybe throw a please in there,” he says. “You know it wouldn’t look good for your team, though, right? Half the other teams know about the bet.”

For a few moments, you simply just stare at him, hoping he’ll budge. He doesn’t. He stands there staring at you, too, leaning against his truck in an effortlessly attractive way, smiling at you in that same way he always does. It’s like he reserves this specific smile just for you. 

You take a step towards him, testing the waters, and notice the way his breath hitches this time at your close proximity. Did he dislike you that much that you getting this close to him set him on edge? Or was it something else?

“Nothing can change your mind?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I already told you. We don’t back down on our bets.”

“Tyler.” It’s a rare occasion where you call him by his first name, but you figure it can’t hurt to try it. You can see his eyes soften a little at the sound of it. “If you do this, you’re going to send us right off the trail and ruin our chase.”

“Who said I’d send you in the wrong direction?” 

“I’m smarter than you give me credit for.”

“I don’t know, darlin'. I give you a fair bit of credit for being a genius,” he took a sip of his coffee. “You’re the one with the PhD. I didn’t study that much.”

Something about hearing those words sets off that feeling inside your stomach again. You push it down. “I don’t have my PhD yet.”

“No,” Tyler shakes his head. “But you’re close, aren’t you? That’s more than most people around here can say regarding their education on these things.” He points a finger towards the sky, which is rapidly darkening. 

You sigh. He’s right about that. You are close to finishing your PhD, and not many of the other storm chasers around you could say the same. 

“Just tell me which direction we’re going in, Owens.”

He looks at you for a moment. “I’ll give you a choice,” he says, and for a moment hope sparks in your chest that you’ll get to choose your direction – until he continues speaking. “I’ll let this bet go if you make another one with me.”

“What sort of bet?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Not regarding our teams. Just you and me.”

You’re about to respond when you hear the sound of the van, playing music rather loudly – Harry’s choice – pulling into the motel parking lot behind you. You sigh and turn around to look at them, irritated that this is the second time in less than 24 hours that they’ve interrupted you and Tyler. 

“No luck?” Ally calls out from the passenger seat. 

Behind them, Robbie pulls up in his truck. 

You shake your head and turn back around to face Tyler. There’s no time to make another bet with him now that your team is here and they’re all ready to go. 

“East or west, Owens?”

Tyler turns around and looks at the sky around you. You figure he’s already done his research on the conditions in every direction and that he’s just messing with you, pretending to decide on the spot. Any good storm chaser would have been watching the radars all morning – which you had been, before you found out about the bet. 

“East.” He says, turning back around to face you. “There are two possible formations, so let’s see which one develops. Or, you can ditch your team and come join us for the day. My passenger seat practically has your name on it, darlin’.” 

A small part of you finds yourself wanting to say yes to him. To tell him that you’d love nothing more than to get in his truck and see what a day with the Tornado Wranglers is like. But the reasonable part of you wins out. 

“You’re going to regret making this bet with my team, Owens,” you take a step back from him, giving him his space again. 

“I gave you the choice of another option, but you didn’t take it.”

You ignore him and turn around, heading towards the passenger side of Robbie’s truck – your usual spot when storm chasing. Tyler laughs at your reaction and then gets into his own truck before pressing his hand to the horn, making you jump at the sound, obviously using it to call his team from inside. You shoot him a look over your shoulder and in return, he sends a wink your way.

“May the best team win,” Tyler flashes a grin.

“Oh, we will!”

—

As much as Tyler hates to admit it, he had sent you in the wrong direction. There were two possible formations, that was true. But it looked very clear that the one to the east wasn’t actually going to develop into anything, and he was sure you would’ve figured that out once you got on the road and actually checked the conditions yourself.

He hates disappointing you. He saw the look on your face as you tried to convince him to call off the bet, the way you wanted to make sure today was a good one for your team. But it isn’t entirely out of competition that he sent you in the wrong direction.

Subconsciously, he did it to try and keep you safe.

If you’re out of the way of the tornado, then it’s a weight off of Tyler’s chest. He wouldn’t admit that to his team, but it felt good to think about himself. That you’d be safe. Besides, he had tried to get you out of it by making another bet with you, but he knew that you wouldn’t humour him the second he saw your team arrive. 

He presses his foot down on the accelerator, watching the clouds ahead of them. Something is going to form. He knows it. He just hopes it’s a good one, something worth chasing. 

In the passenger seat, Boone is keeping a good eye on the clouds to the east. He’s filming as well, live streaming as usual. 

“You were right, Ty,” Boone says, pointing the camera out the window towards the east. “That one’s gonna give us nothing. It’s already disappearing.”

Tyler lets out a breath of relief. You’re out of harms way and even though he knows you’d be annoyed at him if you ever found out, he can’t seem to find it in himself to feel bad about the fact. He had felt bad about the bet when you’d been talking to him, but now he realises that keeping the bet was a good idea.

“This one’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it,” he says, eyeing the clouds above them. 

Then, it happens – the tornado forms right in front of them. It’s already huge, bigger than any tornado Tyler has seen in the past few months.

Boone whoops in the seat beside him, moving the camera to film the tornado through the windshield. 

“Just look at that beauty!” He exclaims. 

Tyler can’t keep the smile off of his face as they drive closer to it. He stops the car once they get close enough, anchoring it to the ground as usual, watching as it gets closer and closer to the truck. 

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Tyler yells, straight to the camera that Boone is holding in his face. “Let’s do this!”

It’s only a split second later that his heart drops to his stomach. He watches as the tornado, once coming right towards them, veers off course. It’s heading east. And it’s growing in size. 

He looks out of the passenger window and in the distance, he can see your truck. It’s white, so bright under the dark sky. You’re going to be right in its path.

He sent you in the wrong direction to try and get you out of harms way, and instead he’s sent you in the exact direction the tornado is heading. There’s no way you can get out of its path in time. 

Tyler suddenly feels like he can barely breathe.

“Turn the camera off, Boone,” he commands, and then he’s removing the anchors from the ground and pressing his foot down onto the accelerator before he can even really think about it, even though there’s no way he can reach you in time with how quickly the tornado is moving towards you.

Boone, thankfully, listens, ending the stream, putting the camera down and picking up the radio to try and reach you. He’s realised what’s happening. Tyler tries to ignore the panic he feels when there’s no answer.

He can’t lose you like this. Not now. Not when he never really even had you. Not when you didn’t even know the way he felt about you. He’d been an asshole, a fool, making that bet. If he hadn’t, none of this would have happened.

“Please be okay, please be okay.” He mutters it under his breath like it’s a mantra. He doesn’t care what Boone thinks. If he says it enough, maybe he can make it come true.

—

You’ve seen tornadoes before. You’ve been close to them before. But you’ve never had one quite this size coming straight at you. You hadn’t expected this. 

When Tyler sent you east, Robbie had checked the radar and noticed that the cells out here were much less likely to form a tornado compared to the ones west. You’d gone anyway, figuring you’d try your chances, leaving Ally, Harry and the rest of your team a little further back, trying to get as close as you could before you realised your tornado was going to amount to nothing at all.

You and Robbie had been watching the tornado forming west of you, wishing you had been able to chase that one rather than do what the Tornado Wranglers told you. 

And then, it changed course.

“Get out of the car! We need to run!” Robbie undoes his seatbelt as he speaks and it doesn’t take you long to follow suit, undoing your own and jumping out of the truck.

He takes off at a run ahead of you just as the rain begins.

Your heart is beating faster in your chest than you think it ever has before. Your legs burn at the pace you’re running, your feet sinking into and skidding through the muddy paddock thanks to the heavy rain last night and the rain growing even heavier now. It slows you down, but your adrenaline pushes you faster. You can’t stop, not now. Not when there’s a possible EF4 on your tail, getting closer to you with every breath you take.

You make a mistake, then, deciding to look back at it. 

The sight of it only makes you run faster, but when you turn back, fear strikes through your system as you realise you can’t see Robbie anymore. 

The wind isn’t strong enough to have pulled him back into it, not when he was running ahead of you, but you can’t help but think of the worst possible scenario as your gaze narrows in on a gully just ahead of you. Maybe he made it there before you and now he’s just waiting.

The wind from the tornado picks up trees and branches and other debris, sending things spinning through the air. You feel something slice across your leg and cry out at the sudden pain, but there’s no time to inspect the damage as you slide down the small hill into the gully, the mud going everywhere as you hit the bottom. 

You don’t even have time to scan for Robbie as you press yourself down onto the ground of the gully, covering your head with your hands and pressing your face into the ground. You try to ignore the feeling of the mud and dirt on your skin, the throbbing pain in your leg, the rain pelting down on your back, soaking you to the bone, and try to keep breathing steadily despite being out of breath from the run and the adrenaline. 

You can’t panic now. If you panic now, you’re dead. 

The tornado gets closer and you can hear it. Hear the wind rushing through the air, hear the sound of trees being ripped out of the ground. Hear the crashing sound of the truck being picked up and thrown by it. 

Everything is okay,  you tell yourself, like a mantra. Everything is going to be okay. Because if you tell yourself enough, maybe it will come true.

—

By the time Tyler gets to the place where your truck had been, the tornado is gone and so is your truck. He barely even has time to put his own truck into park before he’s jumping out of it and calling your name. 

Boone is quick to follow him.

Tyler’s eyes narrow in on something in the distance – the remnants of your truck. It’s sitting upside down, the cab crushed in and all the glass broken. Even some of the wheels are missing. His heart almost stops.

No, you would have been smart enough to get out. You wouldn’t have stayed in the truck. He knows that. He believes that. It was one of the first things any storm chaser learnt – never stay in your car, it’s better to take your chances outside of it.

He stops in the middle of the field and takes a long, deep breath to try and calm himself down when he hears the sound of someone yelling out.

“Hey, I need some help over here!”

It’s a male voice, not belonging to you, which is the first sign that makes Tyler realise something is wrong. He recognises Robbie immediately, even though he’s drenched in rain and covered in mud and blood.

Boone runs off towards him and Tyler follows.

“Where is she?” He cuts in as Boone begins asking Robbie where he’s been hurt. “Were you with her? Where is she?” 

He knows he’s being a little irrational. He should be kinder, especially when he’s the reason Robbie was even in this tornado in the first place, but his mind is narrowed in on you, on making sure you’re okay. He’s never been more terrified that he’s lost you in his life.

“I don’t know,” Robbie shakes his head. “She was behind me, and then I jumped down into this little dam and she never came in after me.” 

Tyler doesn’t let him say anything else before he takes off running. He knows Boone can handle Robbie. His only concern is finding you. He calls out your name again and again and again, willing you to respond to just one of them.

He only hears silence.

—

The second you wake up, you push yourself up, getting your face out of the mud and opening your eyes, trying to adjust them to the sudden brightness now that the tornado has disappeared. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of someone calling out your name, but it sounds fuzzy, far away. Your head is spinning and you’re pretty sure you could be imagining it.

You put a hand up to the side of your face, feeling the sticky sensation of blood on your hands. Something must have hit your head and knocked you out during the tornado. You can only remember something hitting your leg as you’d slid down into the gully. How long have you been lying here? Minutes? Hours? Days, even?

Looking around, you can see the devastation caused by the tornado. There are trees and branches everywhere, and with the rain, it’s made it even muddier – and probably impossible to climb out of, especially with your injuries. You finally allow yourself to inspect your leg, noticing a deep cut across your shin, ripping your jeans. Your leg starts to throb as you finally allow yourself to recognise the pain. 

With a deep breath, you try and push yourself to your feet. It’s slippery down here thanks to all the mud and rain, and you manage to stand for just a second before your leg buckles and sends you crashing back down. At least it’s a fairly soft landing.

You curse under your breath just as you hear movement above you. Your eyes flicker towards the direction of the sound, and when you see Tyler Owens appear at the edge of the gully just to the right of you, you nearly feel like you could cry.

“Tyler!” You manage to call out to him, though your voice is weak.

His head spins towards your voice, eyes widening as he sees you. You must look like a mess, covered in all the blood and dirt, but you knows he doesn’t care. Especially with the way he slides down into the gully and stumbles towards you, getting covered in mud himself in the process.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He falls to his knees in front of you, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and move your head from side to side. He’s quick to check the wound on your head where the blood is coming from. “You’re okay, darlin’, it doesn’t look too deep.”

You can see the panic in his eyes as he scans you, scans your whole body looking for injuries. You can also tell from the look on his face when he looks at your shin that your injury there is worrisome. 

“It’s my fault,” Tyler shakes his head, refusing to move his hands from your cheeks. It’s as if you’ll fade away if he lets go. “I shouldn’t have told you to go east. I was just trying to get you out of the way of the tornado cause I felt that yours wasn’t gonna develop, but then ours changed course and it was heading straight towards you and I couldn’t get here fast enough and god, the idea of losing you, of never seeing you again, of never asking–”

“Tyler!” 

He stops talking, having not even realised that he had let the situation get the better of him and had been rambling on. When he meets your eyes, you’re shocked to see that there are tears in his. 

“You never call me by my first name.”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to get your attention if I didn’t.”

Your reach up and take one of his hands off of your face and weave your fingers between his. You don’t really know what you’re doing, exactly, but all you know is you need to comfort him. That and you’re shaking like a leaf and the feeling of holding his hand is like an anchor to the world. A reminder that you’re alive. 

“I’m still here, Tyler. I’m all right.”

“You’re not,” he shakes his head. “You’re hurt, and it’s because of me–”

You take him by surprise as you reach up and place your own hand on his cheek. It’s only when you touch his face that you remember your hand is covered in blood and mud, but when you try and take it away, Tyler places his hand over the top of it. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a long breath that feels to you that it’s something like relief.

The two of you stay there like that for what feels like an eternity but is really just a few minutes, soaking in the feeling of each others skin and coming to terms with the realisation that you’re alive. 

“It’s not your fault, Tyler,” you mutter softly. “You couldn’t have known that tornado was going to change course and head straight for us. Just because that bet ended up landing us in the path of a probable EF4 doesn’t mean you’re the one to blame for it. I don’t blame you.”

He blinks his eyes open and stares at yours for a moment. 

“Now, what were you saying about asking me something?” You try to change the subject.

There’s a look of something in Tyler’s eyes that you can’t quite place, but it drops off of his face instantly at your words and he lets out an awkward laugh. “I don’t think now’s the right time, darlin’,” he says. “Some other time, when you’re not bleeding and injured. We need to get you out of here and to a hospital.”

You shake your head, ignoring the fact that the movement makes you a little dizzy. “I could have just died and I would have never known what it is you wanted to ask me. So I want to know what it is right now.” You’re surprised at how strong your voice sounds, even though you don’t feel strong at all right now.

Tyler sighs and you can see by the look on his face that he’s giving in to you. “I was trying to get the courage to ask you out, was trying last night actually but I chickened out. You can be quite intimidating sometimes, you know that?”

For a moment, you just stare at Tyler. 

“I thought I was the one who hit my head. Did you hit yours too?”

He lets out a soft laugh. “Something like that.”

“You need another reminder that we’re supposed to hate each other?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I think I’ve had enough reminders to last me a lifetime. But I’m done with pretending to hate you. With trying to convince my team that I dislike you so much. I know they know the truth. It doesn’t matter, even though you can’t stand me.” 

You meet Tyler’s eyes and in them, you can see that he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t hate you, nor dislike you, nor anything similar. With the way he’s looking at you, the way he was calling your name, the way he panicked so much when he thought you were seriously hurt… he really was trying to ask you out. Just the thought of it makes that feeling rise in your stomach again, and for the first time you recognise the feeling for what it truly is – butterflies. You don’t get butterflies from people you hate.

“I don’t hate you, Tyler.”

You can see the surprise flash across his eyes.

“You don’t hate me?”

“You annoy the hell out of me and you drive me insane sometimes. But no. You fascinate me, and you make me laugh, and even though every member of my team hates you and your stupid red truck, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be in the passenger seat with you, driving head first into a tornado, and I nearly said yes when you asked me earlier.”

Tyler chuckles. “My truck is not stupid.”

“Does your passenger seat really have my name on it?”

“Embroidered it myself.”

You laugh, then, a real, full laugh, and Tyler can’t help but laugh as well at the absurdity of the situation. You’ve just survived a devastating tornado, you’re injured in more ways than one, Tyler Owens has just told you he likes you and you’ve come to the realisation that you like the fact that he does. And maybe, you like him a little bit too.

“We’re not gonna make it to that rodeo tonight, are we?” You ask, once the laughs subside.

Tyler shakes his head. “Rain check for the next one?”

“That’s how you’re asking me out?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply before you both hear your names being called and look up just as Boone and Robbie appear at the top of the gully. Tyler turns around to look at them. They look relieved to have found you both, and you feel just as relieved to see that Robbie is alive and well, only a little battered just like you are. Even if you’re a little disappointed that your moment with Tyler was interrupted. It seems that happens more often than not lately.

“Is she okay?” Boone asks Tyler.

He nods. “Yeah, but she’s injured. We’re gonna need a hand out of here.”

“We got you,” Boone says.

—

“So, when are you asking me out properly, Owens?” You ask.

It’s been a week since the tornado and a week since you found out that Tyler Owens had been wanting to ask you out for months. Boone had stayed true to his word that day, using a rope and Tyler’s truck to pull you both up out of the gully.

Tyler had barely left your side since – even in the truck ride to the hospital. He usually hated letting anyone drive his truck other than himself, but that day he’d thrown the keys to Boone so he didn’t have to take any of his attention off of you. He’d stayed with you in the hospital as well, even when the rest of your team turned up to check on you and Robbie.

You were surprised at how quickly your teams had dropped their rivalry after the tornado. They’d clearly seen the way you and Tyler acted around each other, how things had changed after the tornado, even though both of you refused to give them details on what had happened when Tyler had found you in the gully. 

It was something both of you were glad for.

“You can’t just ask me that,” Tyler says, kicking his legs up on the desk in the small motel room. Luckily, he’d taken off his muddy boots when he’d come inside to check on you. He had insisted you go back home to recover from your leg injury, but you’d refused. 

“I can’t?” You ask from your spot on the bed, resting your leg up on some pillows. It had luckily not been too bad of an injury, just a reasonably deep cut that needed stitching and wrapping. You still had to be careful not to rip the stitches, which meant no storm chasing and only resting for the time being. 

Tyler nods. “You made me admit the truth to you while we were both covered in mud and blood in the bottom of a wet, muddy gully. I’m not going to ask you out while you’re sitting on a motel room bed with an injured leg and stitches in your forehead. I’m classier than that.”

You snort. “You, classy?”

“From time to time,” he shrugs a shoulder.

You jokingly roll your eyes at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it. You know, you never actually explained what the other bet you wanted to make with me that day was. Was that something to do with asking me out as well?”

Tyler’s face broke out into a grin. “Maybe.”

“Of course,” you can’t help but laugh at the silly look on his face. “Are you at least going to ask me before I get swept up in another tornado?”

“Darlin’,” Tyler stands up and crosses the room until he’s standing right beside you. One of his hands reaches down and picks up yours, weaving his fingers in-between yours. “If you get swept up in a tornado, I’m going to be right beside you. I’m gonna be beside you for as long as you let me. For as long as I get. As long as I get, okay?”

He repeats it like a mantra. Because if he says it enough, he’s certain it will come true.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Short Stories: Too Late For Remorse

(Prequel)

Yandere Ex Husband x Countess Fem Reader

TW: time regression, cheating (mentioned), yandere, delusional behavior, etc.

“No!” (Your name) shot up from her bed, body covered in a cold sheen of sweat. Her lungs were on fire while her breathing was labored. Her hands fumbled at her neck as her heart pounded in her chest harder than a hammer against wood. She was alive… but how? She had been poisoned by her husband’s mistress…

(Your name) clambered from her silken sheets. The young lady nearly tripped on the fabric from her haste, but she had to scramble to the mirror… she had to make sure.

(Your name) gasped at her reflection in shock. She was twenty again… no longer was she the sullen, neglected thirty year old wife of Duke Blackburn. She was once again the young Countess (Last name)! She had the means to start over again.

(Your name) sunk to her knees as she smiled at her ceiling. A few tears fell down her cheeks as she sucked in a shaky breath. She wouldn’t waste this second chance, no. She’d get her engagement annulled and live a peaceful life this time… no matter who she had to eliminate. (Your name) would pay her fiancé and his mistress back ten fold for their betrayal.

.

.

.

(Your name) cut up her breakfast with the smallest of smiles on her lips. A week had passed since her time regression and her personality has done a complete one eighty.

No longer was Countess (your name) naive and meek, she was a brighter existence with a determination to learn more knowledge. A change that startled the people around her… especially her father.

Her father, the count, seemed quite curious on the sudden change in his only daughter. (Your name) had always been a young woman interested in romance and fairytales, yet that girl was no longer sat in front of him… she was a stranger now.

“My dear, are you not interested in any sweets?” Count (last name) softly asked his daughter who hadn’t touched any of the desserts presented before her. “These have always been your favorite…”

“I’m sorry, I’m just not interested in sweets anymore.” (Your name) gave her father a soft smile. It wasn’t a lie, she lost her love of sweets in her past life when her husband had made constant comments on her body over the years.

Count (last name) frowned before he sighed. “You also haven’t sent Trishan any letters recently… is everything okay between you two?”

Ah yes… Trishan was his name. (Your name) had called him Duke Blackburn for so long that she had forgotten his name…

“I don’t think he liked me that much is all, father.” (Your name) replied softly. “Plus he’s been awfully close to Lady Serpico’s daughter, Lady Gia.”

Count (last name)’s expression quickly darkened at the mention of Lady Serpico. That nightmare of a woman had damaged the reputation of his wife many years ago before they had gotten married… could she have sent her daughter to try to do the same to his darling (your name)? Was this why she had been acting so strange? Had Duke Blackburn made his daughter feel inferior to a snake?

“I will look into it, my dear daughter.” Her father rose from the table to pat his daughter’s head in an affectionate manner. “I love you so much dear… don’t you ever forget that.”

Of course (your name) hadn’t forgotten that, that’s why she used her father’s love to her advantage. Perhaps he could free her from this fate if he annulled the engagement once he found out about the affair?

(Your name) calmly slipped her tea as a ghost of a smile crawled on her lips. She’s moved her first chest piece, she wondered if her dear fiancé would enjoy the shame?

.

.

.

Trishan shoved all the papers off his desk, his hands clutched at his chest while he struggled to breathe. Where was his fiancée? His darling fiancée?

Trishan’s blue eyes scanned the papers in hopes to spot a letter from her, the ones she used to always send him during this time.

He’s returned to the past before he was blinded by greed… before his long affair with Gia Sherpico… before (your name)’s murder. He could make it all right now since he had the chance to be the husband his beautiful, loyal wife deserved!

Trishan frowned when he hadn’t found any new letters. Was (your name) in good health? She was always such a frail woman… perhaps he should go visit her? Yes! She’d probably be so happy, she always had such a beautiful smile.

Trishan began to gather up all of the papers with a smile on his face. He had already ended things with lady Gia the moment he returned to the past, that snakelike woman wouldn’t pull the rug under him this time! He would not let her sweet lies fill his head and turn him against his darling wife. His innocent wife who had done nothing but love him…

Trishan couldn’t bear to find (your name)’s cold body again… he couldn’t live with himself if she died again. If her lips were blue and she laid in a pile of her own blood like some grotesque halo. No, he would protect her this time!

Trishan sighed dreamily at the thought of this second chance. He’d visit her this weekend with her favorite flowers, baby’s breath! They do mean every lasting love, after all!

A shame Trishan failed to realize was that a large bundle of baby’s breath smelled like feet…

.

.

.

“I’m sorry, but my daughter doesn’t wish to see you.” Trishan felt his blood run cold when he was denied entry into the Count’s home. (Your name) didn’t want to see him? This had to be some sort of sick joke! Yes… that was it.

“Very funny, Count (last name).” Trishan waved off the count as he tried to enter the estate anyways. His large bouquet of baby’s breath caused Count (Last name) even more ire.“(Your name) will be thrilled I’m here-“

“My daughter doesn’t deserve a man who can’t keep it in his pants and someone who’s gift her a bouquet that smells like feet.” The count shoved Duke Blackburn back a few steps, the baby’s breath now laid in a puddle of petals at his feet. “Good day to you!”

Trishan could only stand there in shock, his hands clutched at his chest while his breathing was ragged. It wasn’t supposed to be like this… they were supposed to start over. They were meant to be.

Trishan tried to gather up the flowers in haste but they were already too trampled to fix… he’d have to get her a new bouquet. Perhaps a better scented one at that?

Trishan glanced up at the door, hopeful that this was all a big misunderstanding. (Your name) could never hate him… her father must be keeping her away from him.

[swampjawn]

Dungeon Meshi Episode 7 was super interesting from an adaptation standpoint - this'll be a little different from what I usually write about (though I do still talk about the animation in the full video).

Studio Trigger have never done a straight-up manga adaptation before - and led by Yoshihiro Miyajima, a big fan of the manga who pushed hard for the adaptation to get made, and who has never directed a full series before, it was unclear if they'd be able to find the right balance between a simple panel-for-panel recreation and making something that's completely different.

And in the first few episodes, you could really feel the tension between the influence of a cautious young creative with great respect for the source material, and a studio with a unique established visual style. It kinda seemed like they were ping-ponging willy-nillily between the two sides of that spectrum.

But this episode showed that Miyajima (and series writer Kimiko Ueno) can take 3 chapters, slice them up and rearrange them into a cohesive-feeling episode while taking into account the differences between screen and page, and using them to their advantage.

Starting with the way the water looks. This line from the manga describes a faint magical glow to the water in this lake and you can see that the cavern fades into darkness above, but Kui's illustration style doesn't really define lighting and shadows very much compared to the cel-drawing style of animation. So the animators took the opportunity to use the water as the light source, and make a whole episode that's lit almost entirely from below. It really gives an otherworldly feeling to this area.

Particularly when the Kelpie shows up, that under-lighting works wonders to define its anatomy within the relatively simple line art.

What do you do when you can't show the immense fuck-off scale of a monster with a beautiful full-page spread like this?

Well you use what you do have: the ability to move the camera instead. This is such a great way to communicate the scale of this thing, AND such a great way to show some of Senshi's anime-original butt-cheeks!

This is one of my favorite shots from this episode - this whole sequence is super hectic, cutting quickly from character to character, but they use tricks like this to keep you from getting confused. This is framed much like it is in the manga, but with the moving image, they're able to use the trajectory of the fish head in the background to lead your eye directly from Chilchuck, right to the point where Senshi pops up in the foreground and transition seamlessly from one character to another!

Now, it's not all good - I am a bit disappointed that they removed Marcille's own Senshi-style soap-making montage, which was the perfect visual representation of the culmination of the character development and understanding built between Senshi and Marcille.

It's a shame to see it go.

I get more into that, what else was cut, and much more in this video where I broke down the entire episode!

Check it out if you feel like it. If you don't, jump in a ditch, cover yourself in leaves and jump out at people as they walk by.

Thanks for reading!

[werecreature-addicted]

Sacrificial Lamb reader/vampire priest.

Just consider— a cute little lamb reader lying on the altar, begging not to be slaughtered, the tears their crying making the vampires heart flutter. All the cult members are confused why the ritual keeps getting pushed back- meanwhile the vampire is spoiling his little lamb rotten.

ohioohooohiohoo

His hands are gentle, stroking your cheek as you wake slowly, your eyes flutter open slowly to the morning light, and there he is, your keeper.

"Morning," you yawn sleepily,

"Good morning, little one,"

"is it a good morning? I thought my execution was scheduled for today." you huff, you should be more scared but the soft look on his face can only mean one thing. you get out of bed and change idly, not minding the priest as he watches you, he's a man of god after all, there's no way he'd be looking at you in lust.

"ah well, we thought so but some knew doctrine has come to light, now is not the time for sacrifices. we'll have to wait for next winter, at the very least," he says. You hum thoughtfully turning back to face him, his hungry red eyes fixed on your body, flicking up to meet your face as you turn around.

"Well, I'll make myself useful until winter then." When you were born, it had been prophecized that you would be sacrificed to the gods and your death would bring about a new golden age for your homeland. Then, on your eighteenth birthday, you'd been handed over to the church, to live out your final days in the temple, under the watchful gaze of the father and his dedicated cult. Your execution has been postponed four times now.

You wondered if the cultists even bothered setting up the altar this time. it was always something, the stars weren't aligned properly, the materials were all wrong, you fell ill and couldn't be slaughtered while sick, and now, Spring was a time for rebirth, you'd have to wait for winter for the ritual. which winter? who's to say? it might be another few years before he tries to start your sacrifice again.

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. he puts his nose to your throat and kisses your skin. "You could be useful to me now," he breathes, his voice strained, tight with hunger. You had been so scared the first time you'd almost been killed, you remembered sobbing and pleading for your life, his knife poised above your throat, He told you that you could live, for now, if you served the cult and him. Of course, you agreed, that was the first time he bit you, spilling your blood on the altar in a different way.

You lean your neck to the side and sigh as you feel his fangs pierce your skin. you have to lean back against him for support as he drinks your blood and you grow weaker.

"so perfect, so delicious," he murmurs to himself as he drinks your blood, licking at your throat, catching any stray drops of blood. His hands slide down your body feeling up your hips and thighs. You can feel his hard cock pressing against your back as he slowly grinds against you. The priest is chaste, a man of god, but he's also a vampire, as he's explained he can't help but get erect when he feeds it's a natural side effect and completely nonsexual.

He pins you down on the bed and pushes your legs apart, grinding against you, fully clothed, as he bites your neck again. you feel dizzy, a mix of feelings as your blood is drained and as you buck and grind against the vampire on top of you. you try to keep quiet, but you can't help but moan as he takes full advantage of you. You feel dirty, the man who's saved your life so many times now is just trying to eat and here you are getting off, practically masturbating right in front of him with his cock.

You can feel how large his dick is as you grind together, you can't help but wonder what it would feel like if he pulled your underwear aside and fucked you properly while he drained your blood, the thought alone makes you shudder and press up against him as he continues to dry hump you. although with the sticky feeling between your legs and his wet mouth sucking on your neck, "dry" might be the wrong word.

you bite down on your own hand to muffle the sounds of your pleasure as you cum, still trying to hide your own lust, what would the priest think if he found out you were so lustful? if you were lucky he'd bend you over and spank you for being so sinful, at worst he might chain you down to the sacrificial altar and leave you there.

The priest pulls away, breathless, your blood smeared messily around his mouth "What a mess we've made," he huffs, looking down at your neck, and then his eyes drop further to the place where your bodies meet.

"I can clean it-" you offer weakly,

"no, no little thing, rest, you need to let your body heal, close your eyes, I'll take care of all this," he coos reassuringly, you nod obediently and close your eyes.

You look so venerable like this, he could do almost anything he wanted with you in this weakened state. the prophecy said it had to be a virginal sacrifice, maybe he could halt the ritual permanently if he just took what he'd wanted from the beginning.

[webism]

KINKTOBER DAY ONE: degradation with sub!gojo

kinktober masterlist

The strongest, the fastest, the greatest.

Satoru Gojo knows that he is all of those things—he's told it every day. People dote on him, idolise him, praise him like he's holy—and lavish worship can only go so far before it starts to feel hollow.

Satoru likes being loved, don't get him wrong, he revels in the praise he gets. To know he's so admired, such an effigy of power, is intoxicating. He's constantly in a state of egotistical bliss—which is why it's so rejuvenating when you take him down a notch.

Because as strong and tireless as he is in the real world, your Toru is the opposite in the bedroom. It's the place he gets to relax, to melt, and he takes full advantage of shedding the title of strongest, even if only for a night at a time—because god does the way your chiding roll from your lips turn him on.

You can't help but smile at the beautiful blush that dusts his cheeks, it matches the pink tip of his throbbing cock that pulses in your hand. His hair, soft and lovely, rests in a mess against the pillows as you stroke him lazily, sitting on his thighs, lips curled into the wickedest of grins. He frowns, whiney pleas escaping form his throat.

"Please, just fuck me," he's so hard it hurts, and the delicate stroke of your fists over his cock isn't enough. He needs more of you, he needs all of you.

But you just hum, "so needy. This isn't good enough for you, Toru? You think you're worth my time, honey?"

Honey. So sweet in comparison to the sickly tone you use with him. He's not worthy, not of someone like you, and the suggestion makes his hips buck. "Please," he bites.

"Fucking desperate," you let go of his cock entirely and instead ghost a nail from his base to the tip. He gasps, face scrunching up, "you know you're pathetic, right baby? What's all this about you being the strongest—you're barely holding yourself together."

A pause. Satoru swallows. His dick twitches, his cock growing thicker and harder than he thinks it ever has been. "Please, you're… too much," it comes out hoarsely. He feels pathetic and small as he begs, but you ignore him, fingers still circling his sensitive head until it throbs painfully.

"What do you want to hear?" You purr, leaning down to press a kiss to his tip. "That you're being so good for me? Because you really aren't, Toru—not until you break for me. C'mon, baby, I know you, what you are."

You reposition yourself to sit over his cock, lining him up with yourself, smiling at the ay he squeezes his eyes shut in carnal need. You lean forward a little—enough to emphasise your words—"you're my Satoru, who needs to get fucked like the desperate whore he is."

And as you seat yourself on his cock, not bothering to hide just how blissful the stretch of his overbearing size makes you feel, Gojo swears he could cry. You're right, he is desperate, a whore—achy and teary-eyed and already close to cumming with just how good you feel wrapped around him.

"Not without permission," you read the tremble of his lips. Your hips roll against his, the drag and pull of his cock inside of you enough to drive the poor man crazy. "What do you think the masses would think if they saw you like this, huh? All dumb for me, Satoru Gojo—my favourite toy. You think they'd still think you're the strongest, baby?"

"Mm, fuck," his tongue near lolls out of his mouth at your words, you can feel him twitch inside of you. "Y—y…"

"Too stupid to even use your words huh? Can't even get a decent ride out of you. Look at you, I know you're close—can't hide from me."

He's gone red in the face, and avoids the urge to hide behind his hands in favour of meeting your gaze with his beautiful blues. Glossy and pooling with lust, he looks at you like you're the god he is to worship. He wonders how anyone can think he is worthy of praise when you're right there—god, he'd lay himself down for you before any of them could even think to. He's got no choice but to accept your approval though, and if it'll get you to keep fucking him, he'll be grateful for anything.

It's too much for the both of you to handle. Your own orgasm crests just as you think Satoru is going to unravel, and you place a finger in the middle of his toned chest to ground him. "Beg me."

"Ple—"

"No," you shake your head, trying to keep your breath in check as you quicken the pace of your rolling hips. "Thank me, for giving you so much already—more than you deserve. Thank me properly and you can cum."

He doesn't hesitate, he's beyond devoted to you—if he could thank you until the end of time he would. "Thank you," he says softly, voice thick with relief. You feel him shudder underneath you, a few more thrusts of your hips and he'll come undone. "Fuck, thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou, I love you, god I love you."

"Prove it," a moan breaks through your sharp words. "Cum with me, Toru."

Your name tumbles from his mouth like a prayer, raw and desperate, and he gives a shaky nod. You clench around him as you allow yourself to finish, and the sight of your orgasm spurs Satoru on. As his climax crescendos and his body jerks beneath you, he's sure he can never look away from how beautiful you are in your release despite the urge to squeeze his eyes shut and bathe in the overwhelming pleasure that washes over him—nirvana.

You collapse atop him, panting. You lie there while your muscles unwind, waiting for you heart to calm and your lungs to expand enough for your breath to steady. Once Satoru has finished jerking his hips up into yours, and he starts to come back down to earth, you push yourself up to hover over him again. The stern look that had been in your eyes is gone, and replaced with a gentle softness he knows all too well—he replicates your smile with his own.

"Good?" He raises his eyebrows, ready for the onslaught of love you tend to give him after sex like this.

"Perfect," you hum and lean down to kiss the tip of his nose. "You are perfect."

"And desperate," he coos, reaching up to wrap his arms around your waist.

You nod, a smile pulling at your lips. "Yeah—that too."

tags are in the comments, because tumblr is an opp!