#if it helps this is an area with a lot of hunting

[girlwithadragonheart]

Chapter 4 - Ashes to Ashes

This story contains major spoilers for Dragon Age the Veilguard. Read at your own discretion!!

Rook x Lucanis

Summary: Kalais has to choose to save her city or Lucanis's. Things don't end well.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Swearing, Mental-emotional breakdown, Kalais snaps a little

A/N: I love when I develop a character that ends up not taking any shit it's so healing

Chapter 3 DATV Masterlist Chapter 4(wip)

We met with Harding’s Warden contacts in the High Anderfels. Antoine and Evka were both very sweet and seemed like they wanted to help. They said they had noticed some things about the Blight that lined up with what we were seeing, everything the First Warden didn’t believe.

They told us about another Warden in the area who was pulled into another mission. Lucanis and I made our way to his last known location. There was a tent and a fire still halfway burning.

“Well, I’d say we found the camp.” Lucanis crouched down on the opposite side of the fire from me. “So did some darkspawn, looks like.”

“They left the fire burning,” Lucanis said.

“Were they ambushed?” Lucanis and I glanced at each other.

We heard a screech, both looking toward the sound. I crossed behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He rose from his crouched position behind me as I tried to find the source of the sound.

The creature screeched again, this time louder, and a ball of feathers was fiving at me, about the size of a mabari. I held my hands out, trying to keep the creature from attacking me. By description, it looked like a griffon, but that couldn’t be right. Griffons were extinct.

“Assan!” A deep voice yelled close by. I looked over seeing a handsome, dark skinned elf. The griffon pounced over to him as he walked up to us, sticking close to his side. “Easy boy.” The man smoothed a hand over his feathers.

“I’ll be damned… a griffon,” I said.

“Trouble is, he’s not sure what you are. Neither am I,” the man said.

“Rook,” I said. “Evka and Antoine sent us. We’re looking for Davrin.”

“You found him. Mind telling me why you smell like darkspawn?” He asked. “Griffons hunt darkspawn.”

“We don’t smell that bad. It’s the tent,” I explained.

“Blight? Where are Lancit and Remi?”

“The camp was empty when we got here,” I told him.

We heard a raged cry from somewhere distant. “Assan! To the trees!” Davrin commanded. “Try to keep up!” He told us.

After killing lots of darkspawn, and finding all of the griffons locked up in cages sealed with blood magic, we found what Davrin called the “Gloom Howler”. Some kind of Darkspawn, undead, bitch queen.

She got away and took the griffons with her before we could stop her.

The four of us made our way back through the eluvian and the Caretaker took us between islands in the Crossroads.

Neve, Harding, and Bellara came running toward us, looking panicked. “What’s happened?” I asked with a furrowed brow.

“The Viper just sent word. Minrathous is under attack by a blighted dragon,” Neve said.

“Has to be the one we saw at D’Meta’s Crossing,” I said.

“Well, one of them has to be,” Harding replied.

“What do you mean, “one of them”?” Lucanis questioned.

“Teia also got in touch. Another dragon is attacking Treviso, too,” Harding told him.

“Mierda,” Lucanis cursed.

“You got back just in time,” Harding said to me.

I took a breath, putting my hands on my hips. “Alright. What do we know?”

“Two dragons at once? Has to be the gods behind it,” she said.

“Teviso’s a merchant city. It has no defenses. And the canals run everywhere,” Lucanis told me. “If we don’t stop that dragon, people will die. Innocent people. My people. They either die right away, from the dragon. Or slowly after, from blight in the water. We need to go to Treviso.”

“And leave Minrathous to burn?” Neve questioned. “You’re a Shadow Dragon, Rook. You know the Viper, Tarquin, every damn Shadow… We’ll fight to the end. But people will get hurt. Or worse,” she said. “And if we fail? The Venatori will take advantage. They’ll make a push for the throne. And hand the gods the entire Tevinter Empire.”

“If we decide to—”

“Damn it! There’s no time!” Neve interrupted me. “It’s my city. Our city. I need to be in Minrathous.”

“And I must go to Treviso,” Lucanis said. “Go where you feel you must, Rook. We cannot wait.” 

Without another word, Neve and Lucanis both ran off. “What’s our move, Rook?” Harding asked.

I ran over what I knew for certain in my head. Minrathous had defenses, including the Archon Palace. I was certain that me and two others would not be able to make much of a difference against a dragon. But I did know that Treviso was already under occupation and its people wouldn’t survive without some extra aid. I also knew that as much as Neve said Minrathous was my city, I was its slave long before I was its savior.

I took a breath, my chest feeling tight with the weight of this decision. “We help Lucanis in Treviso. We have to trust that the Shadow Dragons can take care of things in Minrathous. That said… two of you should join Neve there. See if you can help. And we’ll head to Treviso.”

“Understood,” Davrin said.

“Let’s all try to make it through this alive, all right?”

I brought Davrin with me, leaving the other two to go to Minrathous with Neve. I had to trust that they would be alright. I couldn’t afford to be distracted right now, lest I risk my own hide. When we got to Treviso, the city was burning.

Davrin and I made our way through the city, killing Antaam as we went. With the dragon trying to kill everyone, I suppose they saw their chance to really take over. Or, even worse, they were working for the Gods. ‘Cause that’s what we needed. More enemies.

We ran through the courtyard, seeing Lucanis and Teia up ahead. Lucanis looked so relieved to see us. “Rook! You’re just in time. Where the dragon attacks, the Antaam soon follow.”

“It is strong and fast. You must get its attention, then lure it onto the ground,” Teia said, hands on her hips.

“We’ll figure out a way,” I said, mimicking her stance.

“Draw up your courage,” she said. “We will need it.”

We took up position in the field, Davrin on my right and Lucanis on my left. Ghilan’nain, the horrible beast that she now was, all tentacles and no heart, demanded the dagger from me and said that Treviso offered nothing more than a pawn for Elgar’nan. She clearly couldn’t see the beauty it held.

She sent the dragon after us to retrieve the dagger. Most of my time was spent dodging blows as I tried to keep it off the other two, allowing them to actually hit it.

Enough of my panic built up, that I was able to aim some of it back at the dragon in the form of lightning and fire, beamed directly at its heart. Before we could bring it down, Ghilan’nain called it away, saying she had need of it elsewhere.

“You fought it off!” Teia ran over to us.

Lucanis clutched at a wound on his leg as he limped over to us. “If Ghilan’nain hadn’t called it away…”

“It’s more important that it stopped attacking the city,” I told him, casting a worried glance at the blood staining him.

“Everyone with a home that still stands will agree,” Teia said.

“That thing was tough. It’ll be hard to put down for good,” I sighed.

“What happened to Treviso would’ve been worse if you hadn’t arrived when you did. I cannot imagine how much worse,” Lucanis said looking at me gratefully.

“Still have to help with that dragon in Minrathous,” Davrin said.

“Let’s go,” I said.

—-------------------------------------

Minrathous was covered in Blight by the time we reached it. The streets were crawling with darkspawn and buildings were on fire. Even as I knew I made the right choice, it hurt to see this place like this. I had more bad memories here than good ones, but the good ones outweighed the negative. This was where I met Varric, after all.

We found Neve and Tarquin huddled around Ashur who was on a table, looking miserable and wounded.

“We’re here. What’s the situation?” I asked.

“Where were you?” Neve demanded.

“Treviso. The dragon—”

“This is your city! I thought—”

“My city?!” I almost laughed in her face. “You mean the city I was enslaved to? You mean the city that showed me and other people like me no kindness? The city that’s been corrupted since the beginning of Thedas?”

“And because we were busy fighting the bigger evil, the Venatori took large parts of the city!” She yelled. “We lost people. And Ashur…”

“I’m fine,” he grunted. “She’s right.”

“You are not fine,” Tarquin said, standing. “He took a claw to the gut. A claw from a blighted dragon. Think about that,” he said to me.

“The blight’s in his blood. But that means…” All my fire was gone, and I was just exhausted.

“A slow death,” Neve finished. 

“You’ve brought nothing but trouble since you came back,” Tarquin growled.

My brows furrowed, pained and hurt. Dorian led me to them and all I did was fuck everything up. Lucanis stepped closer, almost protectively.

“It’s not Rook’s fault,” Ashur said. “I chose to engage it.”

“Because it was going for a safe house! Because half of us were already dead!” Tarquin shouted.

“Do you honestly think one more fucking person would’ve changed the outcome?” I questioned.

Tarquin spun on me. “No, but maybe you would be dying instead of him.”

I physically recoiled from the hatred in his eyes, my gut twisting with nausea. I bumped into Lucanis, and he steadied me with a hand on my waist.

“Just go. There’s nothing you can do here,” Neve said, looking over at Ashur.

—-------------------------------

I stumbled through the eluvian in the lighthouse, clutching my chest. My stomach churned, and I thought I might throw up.

“Rook!” I heard Bellara behind me, but I didn’t stop, heading straight through the hall and up the stairs. I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t lead, I wasn’t cut out for it.

I let my feet guide me and before I knew it, I was in the infirmary. Varric looked alarmed as I collapsed to my knees beside his bed, tears rolling down my cheeks. “I fucked up,” I whimpered. “I fucked up, Varric.”

“Hey, hey, hey, kid, take a breath.” He shifted, and I felt his warm hand on my shoulder, gripping me just tight enough to bring me back to reality. “What happened?”

“Minrathous---” I started, getting cut off by a sob. “Minrathous is burning. They took it- The gods took it, and Neve…” My body shook, wracked with sobs as I tried to breathe. “She’s so mad. I don’t think she’s coming back, Varric.” I looked up at him with bleary eyes.

He moved, sliding to the edge of the bed until I was between his legs, and he pulled me into his chest. “Easy, kid.” He had one arm tight around my shoulders, his other hand smoothing my hair. “You can’t save everyone. That’s the life.”

“Neve trusted me. She trusted me and Minrathous is burning now,” I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to suck up the warmth he was giving me. It was so hard to breathe.

“You made a decision based on what limited knowledge you had,” Varric said. “No one can ask any more of you than that. Neve will come back around. Give her time.”

“We don’t have time, Varric,” I said desperately.

“So keep moving forward. That’s what you do, Rook. That’s what you’ve always done,” he said. “She’ll either come around or she won’t. But you can’t afford to spend what little time you have regretting your choices. Let me ask you something: Do you regret the choice you made? Or just Neve?”

I felt silent in contemplation. “I made the right choice,” I said carefully. “Treviso has no defenses, and it’s under occupation by the Antaam. I couldn’t have changed the outcome in Minrathous.” I had to believe that, if nothing else.

Varric squeezed my shoulder, and I pulled back, looking up at him. He smiled with that softness in his eyes that was just reserved for me. He put his thumb and forefinger under my chin so I looked at him. “Then you did the right thing,” he said simply. Carefully, he used his thumbs to wipe my face of tears. “Cheer up, kid. The night may be long, but it isn’t all dark.”

I heard what he said and what he didn’t. Minrathous was doomed to fall some day. We had been fighting a losing battle regardless, much as I hated to leave behind the people there. Half of them were under Venatori control, and the other half were too helpless to fight against it.

“Chin up, Rook. I think the others need you,” he told me.

I nodded, sniffling and wiping the remainder of my tears from my chin and jaw. “I need to talk to Solas.”

“If Chuckles pisses you off too much, hit him for me,” he said as he slid back up to the wall.

I couldn’t help but laugh a bit, shaking my head as I left.

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

“When last we spoke, you were hunting for followers of Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain in hopes of finding “specifics”. Has your search been successful?” Solas asked.

“You could say that. It looks like both the Venatori and the Antaam are working for Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain,” I told him.

“Unsurprising. The Venatori want magical secrets, and the Antaam want to destroy anyone opposing their brutal expansion. Both will readily bow to anyone who promises them power.”

“It’s more than a promise this time. The Antaam and the Venatori both have dragons doing their bidding.”

“Dragons?” He said surprised. “That is worse than I had feared.”

“Yeah. We drove off the one the Antaam brought to Treviso—barely,” I crossed my arms.

“Have you determined how the dragons are being directed? If it is blood magic, it may be possible to disrupt their control.”

“The dragons are blighted. We think that’s what let the gods control them.”

“The blight. Of course.”

“The blight seems to be the gods’ favored tool right now. We ran into Venatori who could control darkspawn,” I said.

“Elgar’nan would not bestow such power unless the darkspawn were to serve as the main force of his army. And I suspect Ghilan’nain will see the darkspawn as new subjects for her… modifications.”

“We’ve already run into a few darkspawn nobody has seen before. That’s in addition to the blighted dragons.”

“That is the fate Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain plan for this world, then. Corruption and blighted slavery,” Solas said, hands clasped behind his back.

“Right… Everyone should be free and uncorrupted when your demons and raw magic kill them,” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Do you truly believe my goal was to destroy this world?” He asked.

“I believe you’re ‘goal’, like you said, was to transfer the gods to a better prison—the one you’re stuck in now. And you were willing to tear down the Veil and destroy with world while you did so,” I spat.

“The Veil is a wound I cut into the Fade in a moment of desperation while aking their prison. It should not exist. I had a host of spirits ready to help when the Veil fell. They would have minimized the loss of life.”

“Do you have any idea what you sound like? You could’ve actually saved the world from the blight, but instead you chose to kill thousands of people with your vanity project!” I shouted.

“It is not vanity! I broke this world. I am the only one who can fix it!”

His shouting didn’t faze me with the huge ravine and the Fade between us. “Spoken like a god,” I said with all the contempt I felt.

“I am not a god! I am as I have always been: a man, all too aware of his failings… But equally aware that if he did not act, accepting the judgment it would bring, all would be lost. They called me the Dread Wolf. What will they call you, when this is over?” He wondered.

“I don’t care what they call me. If they’re calling me anything, it means they’re still alive. That’s all that matters.”

“Acceptance. You are willing to face the consequences your actions may one day bring, because the world needs you. I believe I can work with that.” He smiled, though it felt anything but sincere. “If the gods are using dragons, you will wish to find someone trained to fight them. Have you unlocked the lighthouse eluvian?”

“Yes. We found the Crossroads. It’s still confusing, though.”

“I cannot help you from in here. You may need to find an expert in the magic of the Fade. And if the Darkspawn are to be Elgar’nan’s army, you will need Grey Wardens to fight them.”

“I’ve got a few of them. Their leaders don’t trust me right now, though.”

“I have faith in you, Rook,” Solas said. “You seem to have a knack for gaining the cooperation of your adversaries.”

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

I woke up in a cold sweat---as I often did these days---to someone thumping against my door. I moved over to it quickly, brows furrowing. When I opened it, I had to catch Lucanis. He was struggling to stand, but when he spoke, it was Spite coming through his teeth.

“The idiot is still bleeding. Help him.”

“Walk with me,” I supported him with his arm over my shoulders, and I led him to my chaise lounge. When he sat, the purple glow from Lucanis’s eyes was gone, and he slumped, unconscious. “Fenedhis.”

I could see the blood seeping through the bandage on his leg, staining his loungewear dark red.

“Gods dammit, Lucanis,” I grumbled. I looked up at his unconscious form, regretting what I was about to do before I could even do it. I reached for the buttons on his pants, undoing them and pulling them down to his knees, keeping my eyes on the bandaged wound.

My fingers fumbled with the knot before finally getting it undone, unraveling it, lifting his boot onto my knee to pull the bandage from under his leg. When I got to the wound, I looked at it with furrowed brows. It looked like there was a piece of jagged rock stuck in there, which would explain why it didn’t clot properly.

I sighed, hovering my hand over the wound and pulling the piece of shrapnel with my magic. Lucanis winced. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” I whispered, putting just a bit more power until it flew up and smacked my palm. I set it with the bandages next to him. “Nasty little thing.”

Carefully, I held my hand over the wound again, pushing warmth into it and watching it seal closed beneath my magic. When it was healed, I stood, moving to my wardrobe for a fresh cloth to clean the blood up on his leg.

Before I came back around, I heard a startled grunt from Lucanis. His chest seized, staring at the wall of the aquarium across from him. I internally panicked, realizing he spent a year in the bottom of the ocean tortured.

I moved around the chaise with the cloth, putting myself into his direct line of sight. He looked up at me with wide brown eyes. “Rook?”

Slowly, he loosed a breath, looking around. “Hey, it’s alright. We’re in my room. Spite brought you here because of your wound.” I knelt down in front of him again, starting to mop up his blood.

“Of course he did,” he grumbled, looking down at his lap. He cleared his throat. “Isn’t it customary to ask before removing a man’s clothes?”

I rolled my eyes, hitting him with the cloth. “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better. Well enough to clean yourself.” I stood, throwing the cloth at him.

He caught my wrist as I turned away. “Vuelve mi pequeña polilla, I meant nothing by it.”

My cheeks warmed as he crooned in his native language, and I was pulled back to my knees in front of him, resuming to clean his wound. “You had quite a nasty cut. This was keeping it from closing.” I picked up the piece of jagged rock. 

“Mierda,” he cursed, taking it to inspect it. “I wondered.”

“You would be lost without me,” I teased, wiping my hands on the cloth.

“You have no idea,” he muttered.

“I hope the next time we’re like this it’s not because you’re bleeding out,” I grinned, standing and collecting the dirty bandages to dispose of them. I saw Lucanis’s cheeks flush, and I smiled to myself as I left the room to avoid embarrassing him further. I was sure the last thing he wanted was for me to see him indecent and turned on.

❈❈❈

Lucanis pinched the bridge of his nose, looking up at the dancing reflections of water on the ceiling. It was bad enough that he had awoken half naked in a place of his nightmares. But then a complete one-eighty occurred, and he had the woman of his dreams kneeling in front of him with those mismatched eyes and warm smile.

Spite had brought him here, of course he had. And Kalais had just taken care of him like it didn’t take a second thought. And the things she said, mierda, he wished she would stop trailing him like a moth to a flame. It was dangerous, and it wouldn’t end well for either of them. Spite was Lucanis’s only future. To hope for anything else was futile.

Of course that didn’t stop all blood from running southward when she hinted at something more. Something unattainable, something beyond his imagination. Something impossible, and yet all too good for him anyway.

“She. Wants. You!” Spite growled in his ear. “We want. To taste her!” 

“Enough, Spite,” Lucanis said, standing and buttoning his pants. He didn’t look at the demon. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“We. Want. Rook! Why?” he questioned.

Lucanis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why you want Rook. Possibly because she’s the only one who’s kind to you, though I can’t figure out why,” he muttered.

“No! You want her,” he said. “Her touch. Soft. Her hair silk. Her breath warm! Her lips. What do they taste like?”

“Enough!” He snapped. “She is not ours to have.”

❈❈❈

We all met around the fire in the dining hall. I filled everyone in on what Solas had said.

“So this elven god thinks we need a dragon hunter and a Fade expert?” Lucanis asked.

“He’s right about the dragon hunter, at least,” Harding said. “The Shadow Dragons did all the could. The dragon was just too much.” I frowned, staring into the fire. “The moment the dust settled? The Venatori rushed in. Guess they knew it was coming.”

My chest suddenly felt tight again.

“Neve’s staying for now. She said she’ll be back soon, but… At least you took care of yours,” Harding said to me.

“We hurt it, but didn’t kill it. The dragon flew off before we could put it down,” I said.

“Treviso could have used a dragon hunter. That much is true,” Lucanis said.

“Don’t remind me. Fewer people injured, and we wouldn’t have to worry about it coming back.” My brow furrowed, and I crossed my arms over my stomach.

“We shouldn’t forget about Minrathous, either. We need to do what we can to help. Though there’s no telling how long Neve will be helping the Shadow Dragons…” Lucanis added.

“Hey, let’s not get stuck in our regrets, all right?” Varric came hobbling over.

“Hang on a minute,” Davrin interrupted. “Not only have you retained the services of a demon assassin, you’re also taking advice from the elven god who attempted to tear down the Veil.”

“Spite is my problem,” Lucanis said defensively.

“That’s what they always say,” Davrin retorted. “Rook, Lucanis is one thing, but do you really trust this Solas?” He asked.

“Trust is such a strong word, you know?”

“So you don’t trust him.”

“Ehhh.”

“All right then.”

Harding said she would ask around about Dragon Hunters, and Bellara said she would get a message through to a Fade expert immediately.

“See, Rook? Nothing to worry about,” Varric said.

“All right. We all know what to do. Let’s get going,” I said to dismiss them.

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

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list

Have a good day/night!

Tagged: @colombia-chan @bleummie

[laertesthelocalstranger]

Laertes grins big, setting about their task. They don’t have a lot of experience petting things- animals always hated them, and that was before the Hunt- but fae has been practicing with Penn. Hopefully they’re getting better.

It makes faer glad to see him like this. Their brother deserves to be at peace, to be happy. He didn’t seem at all like that when they met, all fire and misery eating him up inside- but with time, she thinks he’s been doing better.

Fae wants to help however they can. Laertes doesn’t think there’s much he can do in that area, not with all the towering things the both of them face, not with all the ways he’s failed to help others before. But it’s still nice to feel useful.

Jude returns home to find a sofa lying sideways in his apartment, a wall covered in crayon drawings, and a quilt waiting patiently on the refrigerator.

Laertes likes this place. It’s got much more life than Jude’s last one had, before they’d started settling in. More of a base to start with, an easier place to make a home out of.

Still. There’s a lot of vandalism to be done.

@laertesthelocalstranger

"Shit."

He sprints to him, helping him down from the top of the weather-beaten fridge and onto the dusty floor. He didn't expect her to visit. He didn't expect her to care at all.

"Kid. I - I missed you."

[disabled-dean]

Whooooo wants to see pictures from the bone trail today???

(Under the cut, cw: gore)

[cleradinthealps]

people on tiktok/tumblr will post a picture of a rural appalachian town and caption it “ethel cain core southern appalachian gothic catholicism americana lana del rey vinyl” like my god you were raised in a protestant suburban home in washington.

[great-and-small]

When I was in vet school I went to this one lecture that I will never forget. Various clubs would have different guest lecturers come in to talk about relevant topics and since I was in the Wildlife Disease Association club I naturally attended all the wildlife and conservation discussions. Well on this particular occasion, the speakers started off telling us they had been working on a project involving the conservation of lemurs in Madagascar. Lemurs exist only in Madagascar, and they are in real trouble; they’re considered the most endangered group of mammals on Earth. This team of veterinarians was initially assembled to address threats to lemur health and work on conservation solutions to try and save as many lemur species from extinction as possible. As they explored the most present dangers to lemurs they found that although habitat loss was the primary problem for these vulnerable animals, predation by humans was a significant cause of losses as well. The vets realized it was crucial for the hunting of lemurs by native people to stop, but of course this is not so simple a problem.

The local Malagasy people are dealing with extreme poverty and food insecurity, with nearly half of children under five years old suffering from chronic malnutrition. The local people have always subsisted on hunting wildlife for food, and as Madagascar’s wildlife population declines, the people who rely on so-called bushmeat to survive are struggling more and more. People are literally starving.

Our conservation team thought about this a lot. They had initially intended to focus efforts on education but came to understand that this is not an issue arising from a lack of knowledge. For these people it is a question of survival. It doesn’t matter how many times a foreigner tells you not to eat an animal you’ve hunted your entire life, if your child is starving you are going to do everything in your power to keep your family alive.

So the vets changed course. Rather than focus efforts on simply teaching people about lemurs, they decided to try and use veterinary medicine to reduce the underlying issue of food insecurity. They supposed that if a reliable protein source could be introduced for the people who needed it, the dependence on meat from wildlife would greatly decrease. So they got to work establishing new flocks of chickens in the most at-risk communities, and also initiated an aggressive vaccination program for Newcastle disease (an infectious illness of poultry that is of particular concern in this area). They worked with over 600 households to ensure appropriate husbandry and vaccination for every flock, and soon found these communities were being transformed by the introduction of a steady protein source. Families with a healthy flock of chickens were far less likely to hunt wild animals like lemurs, and fewer kids went hungry. Thats what we call a win-win situation.

This chicken vaccine program became just one small part of an amazing conservation outreach initiative in Madagascar that puts local people at the center of everything they do. Helping these vulnerable communities of people helps similarly vulnerable wildlife, always. If we go into a country guns-blazing with that fire for conservation in our hearts and a plan to save native animals, we simply cannot ignore the humans who live around them. Doing so is counterintuitive to creating an effective plan because whether we recognize it or not, humans and animals are inextricably linked in many ways. A true conservation success story is one that doesn’t leave needy humans in its wake, and that is why I think this particular story has stuck with me for so long.

(Source 1)

(Source 2- cool video exploring this initiative from some folks involved)

(Source 3)

[ckerouac]

So, I really love the selection of Tim Walz for VP and it’s taken me a moment to articulate why. I mean, obviously, Dem bonafides, he’s sharp, he’s funny, etc etc. But everyone in the Veepstakes fits that bill, Harris was spoiled for good choices.

But Walz offers something that the other men in contention don’t that I think will be incredibly useful in combating Trumpism.

He offers an example and an off ramp to the section of men who felt like they were Republicans by default, and so support Trump by default. There are a lot of Trump voters who are full on obsessive, but that’s not who we’re talking to. We’re talking to folks who grew up in Republican areas, or felt their hobbies didn’t line up with who a Democrat was, or didn’t feel represented by their image of a Democrat. You want to see it so you can be it, you know? Which is why Harris is so inspirational to a lot of segments of folks, but Walz is too.

He served in the military. He went to a state college. He’s your favorite teacher from your public high school. He’s your football coach who actually cared if you were passing your math class. He’s the guy you looked up to at school when your family sucked but this guy cared, and he helped you get out and make something of yourself.

He’s the neighbor who helps you jump your car. He’s your uncle who takes you hunting. He’s your Dad who loves teasing you at the Stare Fair. He’s you when he makes a mistake like his DUI and takes responsibility for it, and when he has the chance makes sure other can come back from similar mistakes. He’s you when you and your wife want so badly to be parents and IVF gives you the family you wanted. He’s you when he says ‘it had to be me’ and used his standing and power to protect vulnerable kids sponsoring the GSA at his school.

He gives the real life example to these men that they can be that football, fishing, hunting family man who wants to provide for his family, be that powerful, respected member of the community and use that power to feed kids in school. That it’s normal to enthusiastically work for a boss like Harris. That yeah those other guys are fucking weirdos, and you’re not a weirdo, are you?

That there’s a place in the Democratic Party for them. That they don’t have to default to being fucking weird.

I hope those guys see this example of masculinity and go… yeah, that’s me. That’s who I’m gonna be.

[snstse]

I also like how XII’s animations are less flashy. They’re usually quick and straightforward. Except for the Quickening chain. Kinda stressful.

[writingouthere]

neighbor!Sukuna x single mom!reader; your ceiling is leaking at 3 in the morning and you don't know what to do so you go ask for help from the man across the hallway(inspired by real life events that were not nearly so charming).

no need to have read the others in the series but can be read as a week or two after the aquarium date.

cw: Sukuna being a menace

Sukuna had always been a light sleeper so when there were knocks on his door at 3am, he was up instantly. The knocks weren't even loud but he found himself annoyed enough to stomp to the door. If he wasn't sleeping, the people below him didn't need to be either.

He yanked his door open, prepared to make whoever it was regret every moment of their existence but it was you, holding your daughter and clearly on the verge of tears.

You seemed contrite when you saw his expression but before you could even start to apologize, he was slipping on his boots and grabbing his key.

"What's wrong," he asked.

"It-it's the ceiling, I woke up and it was leaking water. It's getting everywhere and I don't know what to do and the landlord isn't picking up."

Sukuna rubbed your arm, trying to give you some comfort and you relaxed a little.

"Okay, let me come take a look. I can call the super, he's probably more likely to answer than the landlord." You nodded and he followed you back to your place. Holding his hand out to stop you at the door as he made to go in first.

Sukuna heard the water pouring in before he saw it. He had never been in your apartment before. It was clear that a woman there. There was color everywhere, more blankets than made sense for two people and the walls were covered in photos and artwork. It felt soft, it reminded him of you. And now, it was being ruined by water raining down from the ceiling.

"Why don't you wait in my apartment. You both look like you could use some rest. I'll sort this out," he said, handing over his key. You looked ready to protest but then your daughter started crying.

"Go, I got it."

You looked so relieved and he wiped away a few tears from your daughter's face and pressed a kiss to her forehead which helped bring the tears down to a more tolerable snuffling.

"Thank you so much, I don't even-"

"Don't worry about it. You two just go settle in the guest room and I'll wake you up when it's settled."

You smiled at him and you seemed to hesitate before you went up on your toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

Sukuna couldn't stop himself from grinning as you took your daughter out the door and towards his apartment. He turned around to look at the mess that was your apartment. It looked like a pipe must have burst in the apartment above yours. Annoying, but a quick fix when caught this early. He grabbed his phone, opening it to call the super before a thought came to him that just wouldn't leave.

It would be a shame if you had to terminate your lease because of unsafe conditions, after all you must still have a good six months left on it. He knew you didn't have any family in the area and it would be a lot for a working mom with a kid as young as yours to go apartment hunting all the sudden.

Of course, he did have that guest room. Plenty of space for the three of you and it wouldn't be hard to bring over the stuff you needed while you looked. His apartment was bigger than yours, even though it was just him.

Even if it was a tight fit, his lease was up at the end of the year anyway. You could always get a bigger space, one for your soon to be growing family.

Sukuna pocketed his phone and took a seat at your dining table, away from the water. He figured it would only take another hour before the damage passed the point of no return.

He hoped you and your daughter were resting well in your new home.

[lady-djarin]

on my radar

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

warnings/tags: edited very little so sorry! dual pov, jackson era dark!joel, SMUT (oral fem receiving, p in v), stalker behavior from mr miller, age gap (50s/20s), joel is kind of a creep but reader is kinda into it, murder off screen, cannon typical violence, men harassing women (a guy is gross with reader/unwanted touching etc) NO R*PE, possessive talk and nicknames (mine, love, my girl, good girl etc), reader can be lifted by mr big man joel but otherwise no really specific details about readers body other than the usual fem. 18+ minors be gone!,

word count: 5.8k

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

YOU

You almost dropped it twice, your gloved fingers slipped around the smooth metal of the gun as you fumbled to pull the trigger. The clicker was quickly stumbling toward you even on its one and a half limbs. You and your patrol partner got separated when a small swarm of the dead caught you both off guard in a densely wooded area . As you were trapped in a corner of a hunting shed by the crawling thing, you felt your heart rate begin to rise and the feeling of dread set in that this might be your last moment.

You saw the blood hit your gloves before you even heard the blade hack into its head. Then the body hit the floor.

You looked up to find your patrol partner standing there with a machete clutched in his hand. He was looming over you with a look very close to anger creasing his brows and his chest heaving in exhaustion. He grabbed the gun out of your hand and grabbed your arm to pull you away from the writhing body. He hacked the large blade into the neck to fully decapitate the head then stabbed into the ear to finally kill it.

“Do you even know how to use this thing?” His voice had an edge to it, like he was mad, or scared as he held up the gun in your face.

You looked at him with tears brimming your lash line, the cold was seeming to freeze them before they tried to fall down your cheek. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Have you ever been on patrol?” His eyes narrowed as they scanned your face, then your body.

“No.” Your mouth was so dry.

“Who sent you on patrol!? What the hell…,” he grumbled as he turned away. “I asked you a question.” He shot another nasty glare your way when you didn’t answer.

His statement kind of shocked you, not a lot of people are blunt like that.

“Uhm, I asked Tommy, I wanted to help.”

“Fucking Tommy, sticking me with a kid.”

“Hey I might be new to this but I'm not a kid,” you chased after him and that didn't help your defense.

“Jesus…,” he was grumbling again and marching away, toward where you hid the horses. The two of you set out on patrol a couple hours before, your first time outside the gates in Jackson. You had heard rumors about Joel, people said he was ‘rough around the edges but good people’. You had seen him around the community and wondered if he was someone you could get along with. He seemed like he was an outsider, kind of like you. When you learned you were partnered with him you figured it was going to be difficult, but this was a little much.

You were on your way through the state trying to get to where your dad lived in Sundance when you ran into some trouble near their camp and they took you in until you recovered. They stitched you up after they found a nasty gash on your ribs when you were discovered fighting off a pack of stalkers. After arriving at the Jackson community, you learned that Sundance was completely overrun. The sparse community there hunkered down in their homes after the outbreak but with the large swarms that came through the area, pretty much everyone fled and went their own ways. You could barely stand the thought that your dad was caught in the middle but he was strong, he could find his way out.

He had to.

So you remained in Jackson, becoming a part of the community, and everyone in the community had to help out somehow. You felt indebted to Tommy and the community for helping you and making you feel at home here after your recovery. That's why you wanted to go on patrol, you felt like you could help. Joel clearly didn't agree.

That last fucking thing he wanted to do was teach some rookie how to handle themselves on patrol. He was pissed and you could see it in the tense bunching of his shoulders as he rode on in front of you. You felt kind of bad for having Joel take care of you back there but he didn't have to be such an ass about it.

“Hey,” you rode up next to him. “Look I know I'm not who you wanted to be on patrol with but just give me a chance ok? I'm just trying to do a job here.”

He barely looked your way, he just kind of grunted before urging his horse over the final path into Jackson.

Alright then.

You didn't see those broad hunching shoulders for a couple days after, though he clearly had been talking about you. Tommy took you off patrol so Joel obviously made his concerns clear to his brother. When you did see him it was from across a room or passing in the street, but even in brief passes it felt like a tension was always present. His brows would bunch in the middle as he scanned you. It always felt like a judgment maybe, or some kind of disgust the way he would observe you. You quite honestly thought he hated you.

JOEL

You looked cute when you were mad, actually to Joel you always looked cute. Your cheeks were pink with the morning cold, your breath steamed in the air as you huffed through your nose. You were mad because he was ignoring you, and he was ignoring you because he was scared shitless when he came into that hunting hide and found you cornered by one of the dead. It scared the living shit out of him to think about how you were almost torn apart.

He doesn't remember the exact day that he started to care a little too much about you, it was a slow thing. It took over his life, watching you as you became integrated into the fabric of the town. The people of Jackson welcomed you and you welcomed them right back. People loved you and you got along with pretty much everyone. He started to notice you when he saw you and Ellie chatting about something girl related in the mess hall. He noticed how you seemed to genuinely invested in your conversation with Ellie, hanging on to her every word. Next thing he knows he's thinking about you every waking hour, and you haunt most of his dreams. It feels like you are a presence in his chest that he can't carve out and he has tried.

Joel had tried to occupy himself by relieving the tension himself, trying to dissolve the desire he had for you. It didn't work, of course, but he couldn't help himself.

He refused to actually make any kind of relationship with you, he felt like it would look inappropriate. He was a grumpy gray haired man and you were young and bright, he felt like he would be too rough for you anyway. He was a broken man, his hands were dirty with death and guilt and blood. He could see the innocence in your eyes, the way you smiled with your whole heart when talking to people, especially someone he cares for.

Maybe those were the moments he truly started to have real feelings for you, seeing the way you cared for Ellie. Everytime he would see you it made his heart skip a beat, it almost confused him at first, like his heart was waking up from a decades long nap. His chest hurt with how intensely he was starting to ache without you near, it only ever stopped when he saw you or felt you close or smelled your shampoo as you walked by. It was the same as everyone else as there was a lady in Jackson who made everyone soap but still when it lingered after you it smelled like heaven to Joel.

All that to say, Joel still felt like it was wrong to pursue you. You were and always will be the one that got away.

He needed to stay away.

YOU

It had been a couple weeks or so, maybe longer since you saw those grumpy brown eyes. You had started to miss him, as painful as it was to admit. Even though he was barely a colleague, definitely not a friend, you were missing the way… he was mean to you? No, that can’t be right. Why would you miss a man that is anything but nice around you?

Tommy had found you another job working at the local watering hole/dining hall, as the patrol thing clearly wasn’t going to work. He was walking you around the hall, introducing you to the people you would be working with when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey Tommy, you here?”

“Yea Joel, in here.”

Shit.

“Oh hey Joel…” You wanted to keel over and die.

”H-hey.” He seemed… odd.

They chatted about something security related and you were introduced to the hall supervisor. As you talked on one end of the room, Joel and Tommy were on the other and it felt like neither of you could look away from the other. Your eyes kept finding each other, each time it felt longer and longer, like the world was falling away. It felt much different than the last time you spoke, like he might not actually hate you. It was an odd feeling, having his eyes on you, he was almost predatory.

Even as he looked over what felt like every couple seconds, he still had this pinched, angry look on his face.

But it was hard to look away. Joel was mesmerizing but you knew deep down he could never be interested the way you would want him to be. He was a grumpy older man that wanted nothing to do with the new young girl in town.

You didn’t see him for a while after that.

JOEL

Joel Miller was by no means a good man. A good man wouldn’t be watching you like this, following an unsuspecting woman around town. A good man wouldn’t watch you as you walked around the Jackson streets, minding your business, talking to your new found friends.

Ever since seeing you again at the dining hall he couldn’t rid his mind of you, as hard as he tried. He knew he would ruin you if you let him, if he even got one taste he would be addicted. Not like he wasn’t now, leering at you talking to patrons at your job. He felt dirty in a way, like he wasn’t allowed to look, not allowed to have the urge to bash in the head of any man who looks at you wrong. Like the guy you were helping now, Mike, every time you turned away to get him what he asked for, he could see his slimy gaze caressing your curves.

He felt like he was going crazy, not being able to be near you like he truly wants. He wasn’t sleeping well, barely eating enough to keep him upright and almost missed patrol on more than one occasion. His mind was playing tricks on him, he would find you in dreams, wake up to find you cooking breakfast in his kitchen or walking hand in hand down the streets of Jackson. The cruel reality that he would never have that always hit him hard in the morning when the sunlight came streaming over his bedspread.

He often found himself turning over, searching for you.

Sometimes they were nightmares, visions of you being attacked by the dead or one of Jackson’s very own.

That’s why he was here, making sure you were safe from the dangers of this world. It was his job.

He was there until you got off work, gathering your belongings and heading out the door when Mike popped around the corner. Joel was immediately on high alert, watching the man’s every move as he advanced on an unsuspecting you. He stalked after the two of you, staying just out of sight. His blood boiled when he saw Mike call after you.

She’s mine, he thought.

He stayed across the street, just in case things went sideways. In case he put his hands on what didn’t belong to him.

“Hey! Saw ya leaving work, how was your night?” Ok, nice enough but Joel knew he was clearly waiting for you to leave work.

“It was ok, just tired and ready to go home.” You were being polite but clearly trying to convey that you were going home, alone. That’s my girl.

“I’d like to talk to ya though, ya know i’ve seen ya ‘round and think you’re real cute. Come on, please? One chance?” He’s persistent, that's for sure. Walking the line there, Mike.

“That’s sweet but I’m not really looking for anyone right now, I just got here a few months ago…” You kept walking and you kept your eye contact away from him, smart girl.

“If you give me a chance I’ll show ya I’m worth it. I promise baby.” You were not his baby.

“I’m not your baby, Mike. Please, I just want to go home.” You turned towards him now with determination in your tired eyes.

Mike clearly wasn’t hearing you, or just not caring because as you tried to turn away he grabbed your arm and pinned your back against a wall.

He’s dead.

YOU

I’m dead. This stupid asshole is going to kill me. Your mind was racing as you looked for ways out. Mike’s front was almost completely pushed against yours now as he trapped you against the brick wall. You could now smell the alcohol on his breath now that he was on top of you. You tried to break free, maybe he was drunk enough where you could shake him off. You could tell that wasn’t the case when he groaned in delight.

“Mhmm, keep doing that baby. I like feeling ya move that pretty body.” You wanted to puke, his greasy beard and sour breath was assaulting your space. You froze your body in an attempt to get him off you but he leaned in, trying to capture your lips. You whipped your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut trying to block out whatever he might do next. Only, when you expected his lips or something on you, there was nothing. His entire weight was gone and you almost slumped to the floor in relief. When you opened your eyes, there was nothing, no one in sight, not even a sound. Mike was nowhere to be seen, nor was anyone else. If you weren’t so relieved that the creep was gone, you’d be freaked out. It felt like one of those eerie horror movies you watched before the word turned into one itself.

You weren’t really sure what else to do other than go home. You walked the quiet streets towards your small house and barricaded your door that night, just to be safe.

…..

“Have you heard?! I can’t believe it!” Angela’s voice shook you out of your tired daze. No matter how you tried to occupy your mind or sleep last night you couldn’t shake what Mike did to you. “It was Mike! That’s who it was that was found behind the dinner hall.”

Mike? Did you hear her right?

“Wait, Mike, like creepy Mike?”

“Yes!” Angela never learned how to not raise her voice.

Mike was dead. He was dead behind where you worked after he assaulted you. That seemed… convenient. Did that make you a bad person?

“They are calling everyone to the town hall for an announcement.” This was the only time they have done this in the short time you’ve been here.

Everyone walked over and filled the hall wall to wall. Tommy, Maria and a few other members in charge of running Jackson stood on the stage of the building that looked to once be a school auditorium, including Joel. Your eyes caught him up there as soon as you walked in, recognizing his brown curls anywhere. Tommy walked up to the top of the stage and everyone immediately quieted down, they clearly respected him.

“Hey ya’ll… Uh, unfortunately it's not good news that calls us together today.” He was clearly nervous. “One of our own is gone, Mike Walton. Now I know in this world losing someone happens more often than we would expect but this one is different. It happened in our walls and we think, committed by one of our own.”

Murder. He was killed. Fuck.

The crowd was starting to murmur and quietly panic. You felt responsible somehow, like you being the last one to see him, you think, meant… something. You had to tell them what happened last night, if only to make sure they know now instead of finding out some other way. So they know you're not hiding anything.

You stayed after the crowd cleared, listened to Tommy assure everyone that they are safe and he is putting security measures in place. You went up to the stage and caught Maria’s attention, you felt comfortable with her and maybe she would be more understanding. She really helped you assimilate when you recovered and felt kind of like a sister in a way.

“Hey sweetie, how ya doing?”

“I need… I need to tell you something.”

She took you to a more private area and you told her what happened the night before. She listened dutifully as you recounted your story and it really made it strangely better to talk about it. It was by no means easy to forget but knowing someone was listening helped. After you finished and she gave you a reassuring hug, she brought you back to Tommy… and Joel.

“Ok hon, I will need to tell Tommy about this, I’ll only include the necessary things.” You nodded knowing you could trust both of them with the news. “Joel, would you be able to walk her home? I don’t want to take any chances here.” Maria did say to you privately that she was going to treat this as if you were in danger in some way, in case this turned out to be about you.

He only nodded in your direction, extending his arm, signaling you to lead the way. You walked the streets, the silent tall man trailing behind you. You stopped so abruptly that Joel backed up in surprise.

“I don’t need you walking behind me like a bodyguard.”

“Where should I walk?” His voice dripped with something dark.

“W-well…I don’t know, next to me like a normal person?”

All he does is silently walk up to you and nod forward urging you on. You kept walking, feeling Joel’s arm brush up against yours and the tension was building before either of you said anything. You arrived at your building in silence and he walked you up the steps, more than you were expecting from the distant man. You paused as you opened the door and realized something, if Maria is right and someone is after you, they could be in your house.

“Y’ok?” His voice was low and rough.

“Uh… actually, no. Joel, would you be able to come in… and uh, check it out? Just to make sure, I don’t know…someone’s not— not in there?”

You swore his eyes softened at your nervous request, maybe he felt bad. He followed you inside and had you wait by the door as he surveyed the rest of the house. He came back within only a few minutes and you were relieved it was quiet in the house.

“You’re all good here darlin’,” he stood by the kitchen counter almost like he was avoiding leaving.

But you didn’t want him to leave.

JOEL

He knew no one would be in your house, there was no one after you. Except him. He saw Mike put his hands and other parts on you and something flipped in his brain. He went feral and had been looking for an opportunity to take this guy out. He was a menace to the community but Tommy said there was no legitimate reason. Usually he wanted a blatant offense to take action or even exile someone. Mike was sneaky, that was the problem, he was good at hiding his deplorable behavior towards women behind being friendly with most of the male Jackson population.

Joel was so sick of it, and he likes to pretend that’s why he was there that night, not that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. For weeks now he had been everywhere you were, coincidence of course. He needed to make sure that you were safe, that someone would be there for you. Even if he couldn’t have you, he needed to watch over you. You had completely consumed his life, every waking and sleeping hour he had his mind on you.

The worst of it he thinks was a few weeks into his obsession, he found himself across the street from your house, crouched in the bushes like a maniac. He watched your silhouette as you turned about the room, picking things up, gathering our belongings and just generally going about your home life. It was so magical to him to see you living your life unencumbered by the burden of how cruel people can be. He had to make sure no one took that from you.

He was pulled from his thoughts by your sweet voice. “Joel? You ok?”

“Y-ya sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted a drink.”

“Oh, uh- sure sweetheart.”

He watched you go over to a cabinet and pull out a dwindling bottle of something dark that made his mouth water. You had good taste.

That's my girl.

You slid over the glass with a small amount of whiskey and you each sipped it slowly.

“Thanks for walking me home, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem darlin’, but I'm sure you’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt ya.”

“Sure doesn’t feel that way.”

YOU

“I promise you, no one will ever…ever hurt you again.” The way Joel said it, it was like he had murder in his eyes. He was so intense that you believed him, like he would protect you. You felt a thrill pass down your spine from his gruff voice. He was always a rugged man with his height, his broad shoulders and intimidating dark eyes but now, he looked downright deadly.

For a minute you worried that Joel could be responsible— no he would never. Even if he did, could you really be upset at him making this community safer? Did that make you a bad person?

He was looking at you like prey he wanted to devour. It made your pulse race, it made your core throb. The tension had been growing since the walk back and it was evident to both of you. Joel circled the kitchen counter to come right in front of you. Both your glasses forgotten, he caged you in with his hands on the counter bracketing your hips. Without a word he brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his calloused skin caressed your skin much lighter than you were expecting. The only sound in the house was your heavy breathing as he stared down at you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about Joel. Not necessarily bad but just something sharp and scary, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as he slowly leaned down to hover his lips over yours, asking for more.

Even if Joel was a bad man, fuck it.

You leaned up slightly to meet his lips and all self control went out the window. His hands were all over you in a second, hips pressed into yours as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your head spun as he licked into you and nipped at your bottom lip causing a whimper to escape your lungs. It all became very frantic as he lifted you up onto the counter and bit and kissed his way down your neck. You knew there would be evidence of it the next morning and it kind of excited you to know you’d have Joel’s marks on you. His greedy hands were groping and squeezing every inch of you and you couldn’t get enough. With your own shaky hands you tried to unbutton his shirt but Joel stopped you.

“R’ya sure baby girl?” You swore you felt slick dripping down your inner thighs. “Jus’ gotta tell me and I’ll stop, ’k?”

All you could do was nod.

“I need words.”

“Y-yes,” you practically moaned.

“Good girl.” Fuck, his voice. Your hips rolled forward on the counter, trying to gain any friction. Your clit was pulsing with need and both of you were getting impatient. “Thank god, otherwise I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He mumbled it almost to himself.

You gasped as he pulled off the counter and led you up the stairs in silence. Any other person would think he was angry but you knew, he was anything but. He led you to your bedroom and it briefly dawned on you that he was leading you there, he knew where your bedroom was. There was always something intense about Joel, you knew that from the start, it's one of the reasons you were drawn to him. But due to recent events you were starting to question just how depraved he might be. You hated to assume anything but you somehow knew deep down that he was the one who… saved you from Mike. That’s what it was, he saved you from being killed, or worse.

Once in your bedroom Joel turned and pushed you against the wall, attaching his lips to your neck.

He hummed deep in his throat, almost a moan. “Mhmm, darlin’ you are so sweet. Y’smell so good.” He was mumbling into your throat, half kissing, half biting. You were each pulling clothes off the other, desperate to feel skin. When Joel had you completely bare for him, you tried to cover yourself, mostly out of habit.

“You… you are perfect baby.” His eyes dark with desire as he pulled your hands up his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Don’t cover up, I wanna see ya.” He pulled your hands away as he backed you up to the bed and gently pushed you back onto the soft quilt. You stared up at him, taking in his form, he was still in his jeans but bare from the waist up. You admired his graying hair that led below his belt, mouth watering at the bulge underneath. Before you could reach for his belt, he looped his strong arms under your knees and pulled your butt toward the end of the bed. With cracking knees he knelt in front of the bed and his face became level with your dripping core. His eyes were locked on you, his lips almost matching the way you drooled between your legs.

“Joel—,” you were unable to form words, the breath perpetually caught in your throat.

“Shhh, I know hon, I gotcha,” his voice was lower than you ever heard it, something dangerous simmering below the surface.

“Joel, wait—,” he moved up your body at your request. “I just… I’m confused,” you were shaking and out of breath but you needed to ask him. “I thought you didn’t like me… it’s just every time we would see each other you seemed to avoid me at all costs and now…”

“The only reason I was acting like that was because I liked you… too much.” His eyes hovered directly over yours, deep pools of obsidian overtaken with the desire. “I thought I was protecting you, from myself. But I… I,” he almost seemed nervous in a way, but there was still the underlying grumble of anger in his chest.

“What?”

“I see now that I have to protect you from everyone else.” He said it with such a darkness settled over his face, and it took you a minute to register what he was admitting.

He killed Mike. Holy shit.

Your whole body froze and you felt your eyes widen and breath pick up. But you also had this deep feeling in your gut, was that arousal? Were you attracted to this? That dropping feeling in your stomach told you that you were. Jesus, did that make you a bad person? Fuck it.

You grasped your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to you as you attached your lips to his.

JOEL

You were a vision, puffy lips wet from kissing, eyes blown wide as your chest heaved. “You protected me?”

Oh, fuck me.

“Of course baby girl,” he needed you to know this was all for you. He was yours and you were his. “No one will take you from me.”

He worked his way down your body, kissing and nipping his way to your center again. He spread your legs and stared into your dripping folds as he got onto his knees again. You whimpered and moaned his name and he relished the sounds, he loved hearing and seeing you react to his touch. He wanted nothing more than to hear you scream his name.

“I wanna feel ya’ cum on my tongue darlin’,” he loved the way your pussy drooled for him. Joel felt like a man starved, like he was finally seeing water after a year in the desert. He licked a broad stripe up your folds then sealing his lips around your clit and sucking. You screamed and he felt your thighs wrap around his head only spurring him on further. He pulled your legs in front of him and pushed to the mattress, opening you up further for his enjoyment. When he worked two fingers into you, he knew you were close based on your shaking and whimpering.

“I-I’m so close baby,” you sounded so cute, so desperate. “I need— please Joel.”

He wanted you to fall apart, speeding up his movements he knew it wouldn’t be long now. He curled his fingers while lapping at your clit, he felt your walls flutter and tighten around his fingers.

“Cum for me angel.”

You broke. Joel’s fingers were covered in your juices and you screamed his name as you came. He kept up his movements to prolong your pleasure, he reveled in the way your legs shook with overstimulation.

“Oh… my god,” you sighed as Joel crawled his way back up to your face, slotting himself between your legs.

YOU

He entered you slowly. You could feel every vein and edge of him and you were thankful he readied you with his fingers because Joel was not a small man. He started slow, presumably for your benefit, but soon his pace picked up and the crown of his dick was hitting a spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Fuck— You feel so good,” he puncuate each word with with his hips, each time driving you up the bed. You grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to gain leverage but you were unable to do anything except take his brutal pace. He was past holding himself back now, you swore you felt him in places you never thought possible. You recognized somewhere in the back of your mind that letting the man who… murdered someone for you fuck you into your mattress might be a bad move. Too bad he was too good at it for you to care. You felt the coil of your orgasm tightening in your lower stomach as Joel leaned back, looming over you like a dark angel.

“I want you to touch yourself,” he pulled one of your hands towards your clit. “Cum for me baby.”

You pressed and circled your fingertips into the bundle of nerves, your pleasure just seconds from cresting. Joel must have felt it because he gripped your hips and pulled you into his lap, picking up his pace and punching into your g-spot.

“Oh fuck!— I’m gonna cum baby…plea—,” you couldn’t even get the rest of the word out as your orgasm crashed into you. You think you might have blacked out as your vision went blank for a moment and you think you heard yourself screaming. Joel kept up his pace and rode you through it all.

“Mmm that’s it, that’s my good girl…,” his voice was low and gravely in your ear when he leaned over, pushing almost all his weight on top of you while he chased his high.

“P-please Joel, cum inside m-me,” his harsh movements made it hard to talk, hard to breathe. You didn’t care though, you were desperate to feel him finish inside you.

“Inside you baby? Ngh, tha—that’s my good gi—,” he didn’t finish his sentence either as he almost collapsed on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his hips and held him there as he filled you up. He grunted and groaned in your ear as he came down, he pulled out slowly making sure you were comfortable and kissed his way down your neck and chest. “Stay here baby.” You laid there unable to move and watched his naked form as he found your bathroom with ease and came back with a warm washcloth. As he cleaned you, you recalled his words, ‘my good girl’. His.

“Joel?” He didn’t respond with words, only hummed at you to continue while he cleaned your inner thighs. “Did you mean it? I’m…,” you were hesitant to speak it, what if you were wrong? What if it was something he said in the heat of the moment. You felt the bed dip and he settled beside you, towel discarded.

“Use your words honey, what’s on your mind?” He moved a bit of hair out of your face and waited patiently for you to continue.

“I’m yours? Not just tonight.” You met his gaze with timid eyes.

“Yes, of course. Y’have been since I first saw you.” He kissed you deep, lips prying yours apart. “I protected you, remember? I wasn’t gonna let anyone hurt you, especially not him.”

He looked at you with nothing but truth in his eyes. He really did kill Mike, holy shit. He did it for you. In this world maybe you could rest easier knowing you had someone to protect you like that. Joel may be a scary man, but you had nothing to fear for yourself with him around. You slept that night more soundly than you had in ten years. wrapped in the strong arms of a man who chased your nightmares away.

[a-shade-of-blue]

Hi everyone. I've been asked by Hamdy (@hamdigaza) to share his story with you. Hamdy is only 19 years old but he has already witnessed the deaths of so many family members, including 3 young children: Omar, Nada and Zeina. None of them had even reached 5 years old when they were killed by Israeli missiles.

Omar was an intelligent boy who dreamt of becoming an engineering. He was killed, along with his parents, in the same raid by the occupation forces. He did not even get to graduate from kindergarten.

Omar's little sister Nada was also martyred. She was only 4 years old. She looked up to her brother Omar and wanted to attend kindergarten with him so much. She was a kind soul and wished to become a doctor when she grow up so that she can "treat the sick and the blind". She never got to grow up. She was only 4 years old when she was killed.

(This is a photo of Nada and Omar. They were both so young when they were brutally murdered)

Baby Zeina was born in the first week of this war. When her mother was pregnant with her, they were displaced to an area in the South where Israel designated as a safe zone, and it was in this 'safe zone' that Zeina was born. She was the youngest child in Hamdy's family, and a bright spot in their lives in this otherwise horrific genocide. Zeina was only 5 months old when the occupation forces killed her, along with her father.

(This is a photo of baby Zeina. There aren't a lot of photos of Zeina because she was only 5 months old when she was killed)

Hamdy lost most of his family members in the same bombing that killed Zeina and her father. Hamdy has lost his mother, his aunt, his siblings, his cousins, his nephews, and his nieces in this year alone. Of all his family members, only he, his father and his sister managed to survive.

This campaign is shared by @/gaza-evacuation-funds, #263 on the vetted fundraiser list created by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi. Please, please help Hamdy. He has already lost so so much and he is only 19 years old. The things he told me... this is not a post I find easy to write and I can't imagine how difficult it must be for him to go through all that.

Only €3,914 raised of €50,000 goal! Last donation was 17 hours ago!!

Tagging for reach because he has only received 1 donation in 24 hours and my heart breaks for him, please dm me if you want off the mailing list! We thank you in advance.

@dlxxv-vetted-donations @ahaura@ana-bananya@northgazaupdates@c-u-c-koo-4-40k@riding-with-the-wild-hunt @roadimusprime@aces-and-angels@just-browsing1222@neptunerings@mushroomjar@northgazaupdates2@kyra45-helping-others@decolonize-solidarity @heritageposts@timetravellingkitty @briarhips @akajustmerry @wellwaterhysteria @rhubarbspring@nevert-the-guy@ethanscrocs @gumy-shark @khizuo @brutaliakhoa @decolonize-the-everything @postanagramgenerator

@eternal-fractal @pathogenic @nonbinary-support @mar64ds @bixels @aria-ashryver

@schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako @feluka

@fiqrr @irhabiya @sharingresourcesforpalestine @batmanego

@lonniemachin @aristotels @watermotif @stuckinapril @chanafehs@malcriada @appsa @serialunaliver @buttercuparry

@palipunk @gothhabiba @punkitt-is-here

 @prisonhannibal @genderdog @geekydragon @amvs @p0pp3t @t-800 @tethys-saturnalia @anghju @sniffingcinnamon @sunnylittledragon @dyspunktional-leviathan @cakemadeofbacon @mx-piggy @autisticandroids @avi-wings @fabuladorah

@yourlocalamoeba @acepumpkinpatrick @kala-mies @creativebrainrot

@ankle-beez @lonniemachin @dykesbat @charlott2n @watermotif

@mavigator @lacecap @yugiohz @vakarians-babe @socalgal @chilewithcarnage@ghelgheli@sivavakkiyar@anneemay@plomegranate@fluoresensitive@determinate-negation

[uraveragelonelysapphic]

Gentle Love

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Fem!Reader

Summary: She may be Lady Death, but to you, she is your sweet love.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: mentions of depression, panic attacks, just a lot of hurt/comfort

a/n: surprise! another fic! i know a lot of people have been wanting just rio fics, so here you go! a little hurt/comfort! the goal was to make a mental health fic where it isn't romanticized, so here's hoping i did that! enjoy!!!

Your relationship with Lady Death wasn’t one that had a spontaneous start. She didn’t save you from a painful demise, or help you realize life was worth living.

She had met you on her day off. (Yes, Lady Death gets days off. She’s not the only one working the underworld, you know.) She was wandering through a wooded area when she came across you. You were sitting under a willow tree, humming to yourself as you wove a crown of daisies.

Her heart had practically melted at the sight of you, and she found herself gravitating towards you. Before she knew it, she was introducing herself to you and you were inviting her to join you beneath the willow.

The two of you were pretty much inseparable after that. You spent countless days getting to know every part of each other; mind, body, and soul. Soon enough, you were deeply in love with Rio Vidal: Lady Death. And she could say the same about you.

You both had grown exponentially by being in each other’s presence. But a romantic relationship doesn’t mean the absence of all problems.

Rio struggled deeply with guilt. She hated that she had been bound to this calling, that she had been chosen to wear a face she found hideous and escort living creatures to a world beyond life. It pained her to take children from their mothers, sisters from their brothers, soulmates from their lovers. 

But you were so soft with her. Soft as you kissed her in her Death form, soft as you held her while she shook with guilt and self-hatred, soft as you assured her that she was doing the right thing. That you loved her always.

As for you, mental illness was something you had dealt with from a young age. After all, being a witch who was chased from countless villages and hunted endlessly, all for possessing a magical ability she never asked for…well, it tends to have some lasting negative effects on one’s mental well being.

You were proud to say you knew how to handle it, but you had your weak moments. Moments like now. And you hated them.

As you woke up, you felt a familiar heaviness in your bones. Your heart felt heavy but was racing all the same, your head ached, and your stomach churned with dread and anxiety.

You turned to the other side of the bed, reaching for your comfort, your person, only to find it empty. Your eyes filled with tears as you took a deep breath. 

You wondered if you should call her. You hated that the thought even crossed your mind. You could handle this alone.

“But you don’t have to,” your lover’s words echoed through your mind as you pondered what to do.

You and Rio had created a system for times like this. If ever you were feeling like the walls were closing in, like you couldn’t breathe, like you could barely function. All you had to do was think of a color and a name. Her name.

Yellow meant you were struggling, but could handle it alone if need be. Red meant you needed her.

You rarely tended to use red. You loved Rio, and you knew full well that her presence helped to calm you in times of discomfort and anxiety, but you couldn’t pull yourself out of your need to be independent and not rely on anyone for help. You hated admitting the need for help.

Even now, as you laid in bed, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to breathe, you refused to admit defeat. But you knew you owed it to both her and yourself to say something.

Yellow. Rio. Yellow, you thought as you brought your hands to your face, willing your breathing to calm down.

It was no use. All you could think of was how useless you were, how helpless, worthless, weak.

You choked out a sob as the room seemed to get smaller and smaller.

Until you felt gentle hands on your wrists, tenderly pulling them from your face.

“Hey there, sweet girl. Let’s sit you up, yeah?” Rio said softly.

You followed her instructions, allowing the witch to help you to a sitting position.

You met her eyes, expecting to see disappointment and disgust, but instead being met with nothing but love pooling in her brown eyes. 

Her hands moved from your wrists, gently intertwining her hands with yours. 

“There’s my girl. Let’s try and get that breathing to slow down. Wanna get some more air in those beautiful lungs of yours, yeah?” She cooed, her eyes encouraging.

You nodded, and she took one of your hands, placing it on her stomach as she took exaggerated breaths as an example.

You began to copy her, your eyes not leaving hers, feeling safe as you lost yourself in her.

She squeezed your hands softly. “Look at you go. Breathing all by yourself. I’m so proud of you, mi vida,” she whispered as you found yourself finally able to breathe steadily.

You both sat there for a few more minutes, her allowing you the space to feel whatever you may be feeling as you came back to your senses.

You opened your mouth to speak, struggling to find words to express your needs. As if she had read your mind, Rio let go of your hands to reposition herself against the headboard of the bed and opened her arms to you.

You smiled at her in gratitude, moving to sit in between her legs, laying your back against her front as she held you.

You both sat in silence for a few moments, just soaking in each other’s presence; Rio running her fingers through your hair with one hand and softly caressing your leg with the other.

Eventually, she spoke.

“I’m so proud of you.”

You shrugged against her and she shook her head.

“I’m serious, my love. I’m proud of you for calling for me.”

“Feel weak,” you mumbled as you hung your head.

Rio furrowed her brows, turning you to face her. “Quite the contrary, love. You are the bravest person I know. You can handle these things on your own. I know you can. But you knew it wasn’t what was best for you, so you called for me. And I’m so grateful to be in love with such a strong, beautiful girl who knows how to help herself,” she said, her voice full of adoration that brought tears to your eyes.

“I love you, Rio,” you choked out, your hands finding her cheeks, thumbs brushing against the skin softly.

She placed her hands on your waist, allowing you to initiate the kiss.

You brought her face to yours, kissing her with all the love you had. She kissed you back, softly, always softly, pecking your lips softly as you pulled away.

“I love you most, my precious girl,” she said, laughing as you rolled your eyes at her need to turn everything into a competition.

She kissed the tip of your nose, relishing in the way you wrinkled it at the sensation.

“Alright, I prescribe you a glass of water, some chocolate chip pancakes, and cuddles with your hot girlfriend,” she said as she got up, smirking at you.

She beamed in triumph as you giggled. “Well if that’s what the doctor herself ordered, who am I to disagree?” you teased.

“My thoughts exactly. I’ll be right back, my brave girl. I love you,” she said, her eyes softening again.

“I love you, Rio Vidal,” you said with a smile, and she blew you a kiss before exiting your bedroom.

Yes, she was Lady Death, but to you, Rio Vidal would always be your gentle love.

[bovineblogger]

Just wanted to pitch my two cents in response to the previous anon! Hi friend, I know for a lot of us who get our food shrink wrapped and packaged at the grocery store it’s mind boggling to even imagine there’s a healthy way of animal husbandry.

I grew up in The Big City™️ but was raised by my grandparents. They grew up farming (just crops, their families were too poor to own livestock or purchase meat/milk/eggs) and taught me to have an incredible respect for where food comes from. We grew our own crops in the tiny backyard, composted, and did aquaculture even before I knew what it was. We bought our smaller meat from the local butcher minimally processed. You had to debone and process the whole chicken, fish, rabbit, frogs, etc. Grandpa traded his veggies for different fruits with the other oldies. Grandma made her own wine and yogurt. And I’ve worked and volunteered at animal shelters and wildlife rescue/rehab centers growing up. I still compost nearly all of my food waste. Even then, I didn’t truly understand the extent to which a properly cared for animal farm could be healthy and ethical.

Until I met one of my previous partners that is. They grew up in an incredibly rural area on a family farm that had animals, including a herd of cows for meat. They hunted, but always to protect the livestock and made use of the animals they killed/sold them to others in town who would. It seemed so counterintuitive to my sensibilities and raised my hackles at first. How could you say you love animals and do that? But I began asking questions…for hours and hours because it was nothing I’d been exposed to.

The way they and their family cared for/revered their animals seemed almost religious to me when I first encountered it. From the time they were kids, it was always the animals’ chores first. You woke up but fed and milked the cows before you made yourself breakfast. They made blankets for the animals and read to them. You gave the herd everything they needed and then some. If something in the barn needed fixing, that would happen first before new windows for the house. The animals had their own things and toys and treats. It was love! There were never cattle prods or whips or any of the machinery you associate with industrial farming. The animals would greet them happily every morning. They loved and trusted their people back enough to be naughty a way a pampered cat is. It really sunk in when I stood next to a cow for the first time — there’s nothing that would stop that animal from harming you, especially if you were a kid, unless it respected you and loved you back.

(They once told me the story of how some large predator like a bear or wolf tried to sneak into the pasture at night. The family woke up there next morning to a furry pancake that had been utterly stomped into the ground by the herd.)

A whole lifetime later, they can still remember the names, personalities, and stories of all the animals they raised. I would get bored and try to list off random names as a game to see if they ever had an animal called that, actually. But the thing that initially shocked (and stuck with me the most) was that when they’d take an older cow to the butcher, they would get packages of meat back labeled with that animal’s name. But it wasn’t ever scary or traumatizing for the kids. They always knew where food was from. Sometimes they were even there helping when that animal was born in the barn. What that did was give them an incredible sense of care, respect, and duty for those animals. When they had dinner that night, they would say grace and mean it in a way you only could if you viewed that animal as an equal family member. I was raised religious, but had never heard grace said like that, with that amount of genuine intent until I ate dinner with them. It used to be just something I did, just going through the motions.

That being said, yes it would probably be the most bio energy efficient/less emissions heavy if the whole world shifted away from a meat-based diet. But ideal isn’t always realistic/something we can achieve overnight. Meat alternatives are often expensive or time consuming to prepare (like beans/legumes). The way I see it, this blog is part of a harm reduction approach in facilitating an appreciation/love/education for livestock and then encouraging people to seek out more mindful sources of meat, like some local farms. We’ve seen time and time again, shame/blame are far less effective in getting people to re-examine their worldviews than education and love.

thank you so much for this ask, this is so so so so so lovely!!! i feel like a lot of people that arent farmers or dont have farmers in their family dont really understand just how much love is there.

[zeppelinlvr]

Dating Dean Winchester

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Notes: I just wanted to post some head cannons since I don’t have any fic ideas rn. Also thank you guys for all the support, i can’t even begin to express my gratitude, i’m so glad you guys like my work! 💗💗

Warnings: Fluffy, some cursing

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

- Protective like no other, if you join him on a hunt he makes sure you stay close and is throwing punches the second anything gets near you

- Dean has trouble saying he loves you but he shows it through his actions and taking care of you.

- Takes him a while to let you get close but when he does you’re his whole world, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you or to protect you.

- Loves loves loves taking you out to eat, he always wants to try new foods and restaurants with you, both of you overeating and cuddling while watching a movie until the stomach ache goes away.

- Sam helps you plan surprises for Dean on your anniversary or his birthday

- Opens up to you about wanting a family (Dean is such a girl dad ugh)

- Lots of teasing and playful banter, if you mix words up or say something dumb he’s sure to let you know he heard it.

- Petty arguments over things that definitely don’t need to be argued about

“Dean where are my shoes”

“probably by the door” he said without looking up at you

“i’m standing by the door dumbass” you told him

“i didn’t take them” he responded flatly

“yes you did” you shot back

“why would i take your shoes?”

- Arguments end when one of you finally laughs or you just kiss and make up.

- Both of you asking Sam to take your side in an argument

- Going to bars and laughing at everything after too many drinks

- He LOVES kissing the back and top of your head.

- Def holds the back of your head when you hug him.

- Tries his hardest to make you feel better when you’re upset, he lets you talk through it and tries to make you laugh. He’s not good at helping people with their emotions but he tries his hardest for you.

- Getting a cat with him and he acts like he hates it but you catch him cuddling it and letting it sit on his lap.

- Says he hates the cat even though he babies it big time.

- Calls you a dork but he loves how smart and educated you are in certain areas.

- Singing together in the car and making dumb faces at each other.

- Talking with him about music and gifting him cassettes that you pick up at thrift stores and music shops on the road.

- He let you drive the impala one time and was sweating and twitching the whole time. (no hate to you he just loves his car), he prefers to drive you around.

- Defends you in public, corrects you in private!!

- Telling him everything that comes to your mind and he lets you yap because he’s secretly interested in your leg pain, the people you saw at the gas station and what new perfume you want to buy.

- Will laugh at something for an hour with you even though it’s definitely not funny anymore.

- Feel like he likes Johnny Cash and old country so you make him a mixtape of old country songs.

- He rolls his eyes at your complements but you see the smile playing at his face.

- Calls you sweetheart, sweet cheeks, doll, sweet girl, pretty much anything he can add sweet in front of.

- Both of you eat up the themed motels, trying to find the most ridiculous ones you can.

- Even though you guys bicker and you get on his nerves Dean would do anything for you, he’d literally go to hell and back to keep you safe.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

[semiweirdshipper]

Killers reactions to doing trials in swimsuits (Hooked on You addition).

Notes: Sfw. Non-binary reader insert.

-

Bubba Sawyer

He's absolutely embarrassed. Ashamed. Humiliated. And disgusted. Not only is nintey percent of his body exposed, but his face is showing as well. While he did find the hot-dog themed swimshorts oddly endearing, the joy was short lived.

During every trial, Bubba spent most of his time hiding his face underneath his straw hat while staying in secluded areas. If anyone tried to approach him, he would rev up his chainsaw to scare them away. Just go away. He didn't want to be seen like this.

While other survivors mocked and made fun of him, you were more understanding.

From a distance, you would call out to him to try and gain his trust and comfort him. Everything was going to be alright, you would say, and you would gently explain to him the severity of completing trials. There was no need to be embarrassed. In fact, you thought he looked cute and handsome.

Bubba found himself motivated and comforted by your words, and soon he began to do the trials without mercy. Anyone who mocked him would be shredded to bits.

Expect lots of half naked hugs and kisses at the end. He was so grateful to you, you have absolutely no idea.

Michael Myers

Is this a joke? Seriously? Is this a joke? Did the Entity really think this was funny?

Michael, not only frustrated by the lack of shoes and warm clothing, was utterly infuriated. Stomping around in orange and black swim-trunks with a literal, broken shell to stab people with, it was safe to say that Michael's attitude became even more brutal.

Another aspect that angered him was how almost every survivor began to tease and flirt with him as if he were some piece of candy. Some of them even tried to touch him, but their greedy paws would be quickly lacerated.

This lack of respect made him so angry that he began to commit overkill in every single trial. However... There was one survivor who didn't treat him any differently when he had to wear his swimsuit.

You.

As if nothing had changed, you treated him with respect. You didn't tease him, stare at him, touch him or try to flirt. Instead you did the trial like you were supposed to and minded his severe fits of rage. Michael even suspected that you might have been helping him to kill other survivors...

In an act of appreciation, Michael let you live most trials, and he hardly ever harmed you. After this entire event, he might even cling to you a little bit more.

Pinhead/Elliot Spencer

Was it a swimsuit? Or some kind of bizarre bedroom cosplay?

Pinhead's "swimsuit" was an array of harnesses that covered his chest, thighs and hips. Small chains hung from his nipples, and only a leather, black speedo with matching chains covered his crotch. His thoughts?

It was actually kind of nice.

No opened wounds, no cuts, and no bones or flesh hanging out? Pinhead could do with that. Sure he still had his pins and piercings, but he had adapted to those. And while it did get cold some times, nothing really changed. He was used to pain and rough environments.

But it was kind of annoying to witness the mixed reactions from the survivors. Some acted out in disgust and others in desire or mockery. Pinhead didn't let it get to him much and simply did the trials as he was supposed to.

Though he did notice that your desire towards him had heightened, and you became more eager to hide and run away from him during trials. It was amusing. He had always tried to get you to accept his offers for pleasure, but you were too shy and scared. But now?

Call it immature, but Pinhead was loving hunting you down and giving you no choice but to look at him. The feel of your desire and innocence was so endearing to him, he couldn't help but to playfully torture you.

Perhaps soon you would break under the pressure and accept his offers?

Evan MacMillan

Screw the Entity. Screw the survivors. And screw this stupid, dumb, ridiculous swimsuit!

If anyone thought they had seen Evan angry before, then they'd better think again. Because this time? This time he was absolutely furious. Why?

Try accidentally stepping in a trap with no boots on. Try doing a trial in Ormond. Try getting outrun constantly. And try getting grabbed and gawked at all the time.

It was safe to say that Evan's behavior during trials became increasingly dangerous when he wore his striped swimsuit. Many survivors teased about the size of his bulge and made a habit to try and grab him for fun. The outcome? Certain, painful death.

Evan was tired of this stupid situation.

The only break he got was when he had trials with you. Finally, someone who didn't play the "ball grabbing game" and actually did the trial accordingly. He respected you for that. And the fact that you didn't treat him any differently than normal was also appreciated.

If ever Evan came across you in a trap, he pretended to overlook you and simply walked by. You seemed to notice this as well, and soon you began to actively help him trap your perverted team members.

Hmp. You were pretty awesome, you know? He could hang with you.

Albert Wesker

The Entity really needed to work on it's fashion skills. Honestly. Did it really think this was his style? First off, the shorts were too colorful and far, far too short and tight. Wedgie much? Also, what cheap sunglasses. And why the silky black button-up and neck bandana? And were those... Flip-flops?

Most trials, Albert felt quite embarrassed and rather ridiculous, but he did good not to show it. While few survivors did make fun of him, he simply snapped back and told them not to be so jealous. And the other survivors?

The other survivors acted like he was made out of gold and jewels.

Eventually Albert grew to enjoy the attention. Of course he'd rile up this many survivors. How couldn't he? He was handsome and toned and oh so sexy. It was only natural that everyone either be jealous or attracted to him.

Except... You.

You didn't pay any attention to him. You made no faces, no comments and no reactions. Even when he tried teasing you, you wouldn't really respond with anything other than annoyance. And that bothered him.

Soon you became his top priority in every trial. While it was irritating that you didn't respond to his obvious charm, he did find it fascinating. It meant that your mind worked differently and you didn't let yourself get distracted. You were actually becoming super attractive to him.

He wanted to see how far he could go with you.

Pyramid Head

Let's put it bluntly. His swimsuit... Was seaweed. Yes, seaweed, with a dash of barnacles and slug shells here and there. He looked like a monster that crawled out of the ocean. And did this astonishing array of seaweed stay in place very long? No. No it did not.

The Executioner didn't care about clothing though. He was used to being barefoot and half naked. Natural elements didn't bother him that much. This fishy "swimsuit" was nothing more than an obstacle and a gift.

See, of course the survivors were going crazy because of his exposed body, but that only made it easier to kill them when they tried to get too close. It was so convenient that the Executioner didn't even have to fight much anymore, the survivors just came right to him to be killed.

The Executioner knew that it was perversion and desire that brought the survivors to him, but he wasn't interested in any of them. The only thing he did in response to their attraction was kill them.

But you? You were different.

You did have desire for him, but also respect and modesty. You put the trial and your objectives first, and you stayed composed when coming into contact with him. It was such an astonishing strength. The Executioner couldn't help but to envy you.

Maybe some time in the future he could approach you with his real face and show you gratitude for how well you behaved during this outlandish experience?

-

And that's how they became... Hooked on You!

[chaoticforever]

When The Dark Crawls | Yandere Dean Winchester x Male! Reader

Summary: Everyone knows that when a cat chases a mouse, the mouse looses. Dean lives for the thrill of the chase, and Y/n L/n? The man just wanted to leave.

A/n: Not too sure about this one.

Damn these handcuffs, Y/n thought. 

The cold metal of the handcuffs dug into his skin, causing him discomfort and making it difficult to move his right hand. He gazed around the area, hoping to find something that could allow him to unlock them, but didn’t see anything. He needed to find something fast before a certain someone came barging in here.

And that someone is Dean Winchester. 

A well-known hunter who had saved Y/n's life from bloodthirsty vampires that wanted to suck the blood out of him. In the beginning, Y/n had been so grateful to have met the man. He would be dead right now if it wasn't for Dean, after all.

However, as it turned out, that wasn't the last time they had seen each other. The following week after the whole vampire incident, the h/c man had been attacked again, and it seemed like he had nothing but bad luck with all these supernatural creatures attacking him for no reason.

Once again, Dean was there to save the day. He had shown up at the abandoned house they had Y/n trapped in with lots of silver bullets and managed to kill the werewolves and free Y/n from his binds.

Again, Y/n had thanked Dean for saving his life, and Dean just said that it wasn't an issue and that maybe he should stay with him tonight to ensure he was safe. The hunter laughed it off as a joke, but Y/n decided to take him up on that offer. He didn't want to risk another near-death experience. They say that third time's a charm, and next time he might not be so lucky to get away like the last two times.

On that day, Y/n asked about Dean's life and the circumstances that led him to engage in combat with these creatures, which he had not even believed in until a week prior. Dean explained to him that he and his brother hunt these monsters and it's the family business. Y/n couldn't imagine growing up like that, but he told Dean that if he ever needed any form of help from him, such as a place to lay low to let him know. Dean did save his life so Y/n believed that he should reciprocate.

And a friendship between them formed, where Dean would stop by whenever he was on a hunt to check in or if he simply wanted to hang out with Y/n. Y/n always welcomed him. It's not like he had many friends, so he was glad to have another. However, he had noticed something.

Like the way Dean looked at him.

Y/n was not stupid. In fact, he was quite perceptive, and he was aware that Dean had a crush on him. He made sure to let Dean know that despite his gratitude, he doesn't share the same sentiment. Dean is an attractive guy, with beautiful forest green eyes, yet he only perceives him as a friend. After the rejection, Dean said it was fine as long as they were still friends.

However, it seems that Dean lied to him, as evidenced by the way he continued to touch and stare at him. In passing, Dean would find different excuses to touch or brush up against him. He found reasons to be near Y/n; their paths crossed more frequently than before. Y/n would turn a corner, and Dean would be there, leaning against a wall with a smirk on his face. He'd be at the same coffee shop, sitting at a nearby table, looking at him with a predatory gaze. When he went on a date, there was Dean, glaring at Y/n's date the entire time with a steak knife in his hand.

Hence, he felt increasingly uneasy with Dean's constant presence, but whenever he mentioned it, the hunter insisted that he was protecting him. Y/n did not share this perspective and informed Dean that he needed some space away from him. Dean's jaw tightened, and he warned Y/n that he'd regret his dismissive treatment.

Later, he discovered that Dean had been quite serious in his words, as the day Y/n's car unexpectedly broke down on the road one night and Dean kidnapped him, taking him to a secluded cabin far away. Dean claimed that Y/n belonged to him and was protecting him from everything that was evil in the world. He had to do it.

Y/n had attempted to escape before, but he was recaptured by Dean every single time. As punishment, Dean would spank Y/n's bare ass with his hand. Since then, he had learned not to attempt an escape while Dean was present, opting instead to try when he was absent. It wasn't fair that Dean decided to ruin his life, and he was determined to reclaim his freedom.

The h/c-haired male opened the drawer next to the bed and was relieved that he saw a paperclip. He knew people usually pick door locks with this clip, therefore, he was hoping it could pick a cuff lock.

Quickly, he bent down and picked up the paperclip, his fingers shaking as he tried to manipulate it into a makeshift key. He inserted the bent end into the keyhole of the handcuffs, twisting and turning it in a desperate attempt to unlock it. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled.

"C’mon," Y/n muttered under his breath. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the handcuffs unlocked, and the cold metal fell off his wrist. Thank God. He exhaled, rubbing his tender wrists, still feeling the lingering sensation of those handcuffs. I am free. Not wasting another moment, he stood up and darted out of the room, peering through the blinds to survey for any sign of Dean. A wave of relief came over him when he didn't spot the Impala.

Y/n's heart pounded in his chest as he bolted out of the cabin, his feet carrying him farther away from his captivity. Y/n didn't know where he was going, but he didn't care. All that mattered to him was getting as far away from this location as possible before Dean realized he's gone. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he continued to run through the woods. despite him feeling incredibly exhausted.

Soon, Y/n reached the road and was so overjoyed when he spotted a car coming down the road. "Hey, stop!" Y/n jumped in front of the car and threw himself in front of it, causing the driver to slam on their brakes before the car could hit him.

The driver — a tall guy with brown hair —exited the car and promptly approached Y/n, looking worried. "Are you okay, sir?"

Y/n shook his head, his voice breathless from the running he did. "I'm not. This guy... he kidnapped me. Please, help me."

The tall man nodded. "I'll help you. Get in the car." He opened the passenger door.

"Thank you," Y/n slid into the passenger seat and buckled up as the other male shut the door and got behind the wheel.

"It's no issue," he turned the keys and the car roared to life. He stepped on the gas and the car cruised down the open road. The man glanced over at the one sitting in the passenger seat. "If you want, you can stay with me tonight. Then we can deal with whoever took you tomorrow."

"That would be great, thank you again." Y/n was sincere. "Do you have a name?"

After those words escaped his lips, Y/n wanted to hit himself. Of course, he has a name. Everyone on this planet has one.

The driver laughed. "It's Jared. And you?"

"Y/n."

During the remainder of the drive, Jared maintained a focused gaze on the road ahead while Y/n observed the passing scenery through the window in thought. The events of the past few months with Dean had left Y/n a bit shaken, but he felt incredibly fortunate that someone had been driving by at the right time to help Y/n escape from that stupid hunter.

When Jared brought his vehicle to a halt, Y/n shifted his attention to the imposing structure before him. The exterior looked quite old, and Y/n turned to face Jared, his expression marked by confusion.

"Uh, why are we here? I thought you said you were taking me back to your place."

"And that's what I'm doing now," Jared said. "This building is where I live. It's my bunker. You'll be safe here, don't worry."

Y/n regarded the place with suspicion, feeling a sense of unease that caused warning bells to ring in his mind. Despite his apprehension, he chose to ignore his intuition. After all, Jared had gone out of his way to help him, even though he wasn't obligated to, and Y/n decided to trust him. If it wasn't for Jared, he would still be at the cabin with Dean, and that was not a situation he wanted to be in.

Jared opened the car door for Y/n and escorted him inside the bunker. Despite the unappealing exterior, the interior was surprisingly inviting. Y/n appreciated the contrast. Jared then led Y/n to the room where he would be staying for the night, excusing himself to retrieve a blanket.

Y/n took a moment to assess the room, noting its basic amenities: a bed, a desk, and a drawer with a lamp, which was the only light source. Despite its simplicity, Y/n found the room to be quite inviting.

Later, Jared re-entered the room with a blanket, fresh towels, a washcloth, and a toothbrush. "Here's a blanket in case you get cold, a toothbrush for your teeth, and a towel and washcloth for your shower," he explained, placing the blanket on the bed, the toothbrush on the desk, and the towel and washcloth on the rack. "Get some sleep. I know it's been a long day."

"Thank you so much, Jared. I don't know what I would've done without your help." Y/n expressed his gratitude once again because he needed this man to know that he was so grateful for helping him.

Jared smiled reassuringly at Y/n. "No problem at all. I'm just glad I could help."

Jared left the room and closed the door behind him. Y/n lay on the bed and put the blankets over him, closing his eyes.

He was finally free.

Dean couldn’t get to him now.

XXXXX XXXXX

The next day, Y/n awoke feeling utterly refreshed. It had been a while since he'd slept so well, and according to the clock, he had slept for more than twelve hours. Although he hadn't intended to sleep for so long, he supposed his body needed it.

Rising up from the bed, Y/n gathered his towel, washcloth, and toothbrush, and proceeded to the bathroom. After a brief exploration, he found the bathroom and removed his clothes before entering the shower. The warm water cascaded over his skin, providing a soothing sensation as it cleansed his body and his mind.

After taking his shower and brushing his teeth, he returned to the guest room and he decided to wait for Jared to return so that they could discuss their next move.

Folding the covers meticulously, Y/n heard the door creak open from behind. Knowing that it was Jared, Y/n initiated a conversation without turning around. "Hey, Jared. Thanks for allowing me to—"

Panic seized Y/n's heart as he retreated a step. There, in the doorway, was Dean Winchester with a devilish smirk on his face that sent a shiver down Y/n's spine. No! Y/n's thoughts raced with alarm: he was free. How did Dean find him again?

Dean edged closer, attempting to narrow the gap between them. "Surprised to see me, Y/n?" he mocked, voice laced with amusement from the fear in Y/n's eyes.

Y/n retreated, pressing his back against the wall. "H-How did you find me?" he stammered, his face contorted with fear. The intimidating man's presence made it impossible for Y/n to conceal his terror.

A dark chuckle emitted from Dean's lips as he closed the remaining distance between them. Now face-to-face with Y/n, he slammed his hand against the wall beside him, trapping him against it. "Oh, I always find what's mine," he declared. "And you, sweetheart, are definitely mine."

"I'm not yours!" Y/n retorted, but his defiance was quickly overshadowed by a pressing concern. "What did you do to Jared?" he asked, worry clear in his tone.

Dean's smirk widened. "Jared's not real," he divulged, causing Y/n to stare at him in bewilderment. "His real name is Sam, my brother. And this bunker? It's ours."

Y/n felt his world shatter once the truth unraveled. He had never escaped; Jared, no Sam, brought him back to Dean. Y/n had been deceived from the beginning.

"This can't be true," Y/n whispered.

Dean's fingers trailed possessively down his arm. "It is true, my little plaything," he gripped Y/n's jaw and forced a hard kiss upon him, only to break away when Y/n continued to resist his advances. "Stop fighting it, pretty boy. Just let it happen."

No, this was bullshit. Y/n wasn't going to just let it happen or continue to cower in submission. Y/n delivered a swift kick to Dean's groin, causing him to crumple to his knees, clutching his injured area. He fled as Dean's chilling laughter echoed throughout the place  Dean taunted Y/n, urging him to run, claiming that he loved the chase. Y/n sprinted, feeling the wind whip against his face. He needed to get away on his own, unable to trust anyone in case another person he bumped into happened to be acquainted with Dean.

The surrounding area seemed devoid of buildings and people for miles, but in the distance, Y/n saw an abandoned house. It was his only option. He dashed inside. The interior had peeling wallpaper and boarded-up windows, yet it didn't look that bad. Y/n figured that Dean wouldn't consider searching for him here. His plan was to remain hidden until he was certain that he was safe, free from Dean.

The floorboards creaked beneath Y/n as he raced up the stairs, and the bathroom door was the first one he encountered. Y/n didn't hesitate before entering the shower and closed the curtain, trying his hardest to calm his ragged breathing.

Seconds turned into minutes, and in the deafening silence, Y/n believed he might have escaped Dean's clutches this time. But the illusion shattered when he heard doors opening, the floorboards creaking, and the taunting voice that was Dean's. 

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened, and Y/n stopped himself from breathing.

"Y/n, are you in here?" Dean's voice was laced with false sincerity. "Get out here. There's no point in hiding. I'll find you."

Y/n remained silent and unmoving in the shower, but it became very challenging, particularly as a spider crept up his leg. Not now. Get off me. The spider, though, disregarded Y/n's silent plea and kept crawling. Unable to endure the crawly sensation any longer, Y/n used his right foot to kick the spider off his left leg and killed it as quietly as he possibly could.

Y/n's heart pounded.

Two steps outside the bathroom, the green-eyed male halted, his attention drawn by a faint noise emanating from the shower. A smirk tugged at his mouth as he turned around, his gaze narrowing.

"So, that's where you are?" Dean walked back into the bathroom and yanked the curtains open, revealing an empty space.

A moment of confusion clouded Dean's face as he scanned the empty shower for Y/n. Unbeknownst to him, Y/n had silently exited through the second door connected to the bathroom and hidden in the nearby room's closet. This cat-and-mouse game between them intensified with each passing moment, but still, Y/n remained steadfast in his determination.

Yet, at the same time, Y/n struggled with the fear of being caught. He knew Dean was a highly skilled hunter, who's good at tracking people down. His chances of escaping were slim to none, but he was going to take his chances, nevertheless.

Y/n could hear Dean's footsteps echoing through the house, growing louder as he approached the room Y/n was hiding in. Then, the door to the room opened, and Y/n remained silent and still as Dean sauntered fully into the room. Not again.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Dean persisted, his voice saturated with that sick, sadistic satisfaction. "You can run, but you can't hide from me forever."

Y/n's fingers trembled as he searched for anything he could use as a weapon, but there was no weapon in the closet. Nothing. Y/n pressed himself against the wall, accidentally triggering a hidden mechanism that pushed him backward into a secret room nestled in the closet.

"Just you wait," Dean said, approaching the closet, his fingers curling around the handle with a predatory grace. "I have so many things in store for you, and you are going to love every fucking second of it. Ready or not, sweetheart, here I come."

With a swift motion, Dean yanked open the closet door, anticipating the sight of Y/n cowering in fear. To his surprise, the closet showed nothing but empty space. Dean's laugh echoed through the room. "I love this little game of cat and mouse, but trust me — I always catch my prey."

In the hidden room, Y/n's ear was on the wall, hearing the closet door closing and Dean's retreating footsteps. Y/n pushed open the secret room's door, entered the closet, and emerged into the main room.

The hidden man cracked the door open, the hinges silent, and he peered through the slightly ajar door. He observed Dean going up the stairs, heading to the attic. This was his opportunity, his one chance at freedom. Carefully, he eased the door open fully, ensuring not to make a sound.

Y/n's heart thundered in his chest as he tiptoed down the stairs, his eyes vigilant for Dean or his brother. He did not need any surprises. His pace quickened as he headed for the door, his hand hovering over the knob. He had done it. He won—

Suddenly, Y/n's body was sent crashing to the floor. Dean had appeared out of nowhere and tackled him to the ground. No, Y/n thought, his hopes shattered.

Y/n struggled to free himself from Dean's grasp and crawl toward the door, mere inches away. Dean, however, didn't plan on letting Y/n escape him this time. His grip on Y/n's legs remained firm as he pulled Y/n closer. Then, he pinned Y/n's hands above his head and placed his knee on Y/n's crotch, immobilizing him.

Dean smirked triumphantly down at his captured prey. "Man, that was a fun little game of cat and mouse, but you should know that you're my bitch." He reached into his pocket and retrieved a syringe, heightening Y/n's panic. Y/n struggled to free himself, but Dean's strength was overwhelming.  He took the cap off and quickly jabbed the needle into Y/n's arm. Weakness washed over Y/n, rendering him helpless against his impending fate.

The green-eyed hunter chuckled darkly as he looked down at Y/n, caressing his face and letting his fingers trace over Y/n's lips. "I'm taking you home now. You'll never be able to escape me, pretty boy. Stop trying, and get used to being mine."

Y/n was starting to think that Dean was right. There's no way he can escape him.

Dean felt a sense of triumph as he looked down at Y/n, his little plaything. He had won, and there was no turning back. He knew that he had done terrible things to get him, but he didn't care. All that mattered was that he had Y/n, and no one would take Y/n away from him.

As the tall man carried Y/n away from the abandoned house and to the bunker, he could feel Y/n’s body tense up in his arms. Dean knew that he was terrified, but he didn't care. He would do whatever it took to keep the other man with him, even if that meant resorting to violence.

Dean placed Y/n on the bed in his room, their room, and could sense Y/n's fear permeating the air. He relished every bit of it, loving that Y/n was afraid of him and would soon understand who owned him. Dean needed to break Y/n, to make him see that Dean was his one protector from danger. He was doing all of this for Y/n, to ensure that he was always safe.

Dean climbed into the bed, wrapping his arms around Y/n and pulling him close. He could feel Y/n's body trembling with fear, but he didn't let go. He had to show him that he's in control. Now and always.

"It's alright, baby," Dean whispered in Y/n's ear, planting a kiss on the back of his man's neck. "I'm here, and I'll protect you from anything that could harm you, but don’t even think of trying to leave again unless you want a punishment. There’s no place you can go that I won’t get you."

Y/n remained silent, which didn't bother Dean, since he knew that after this day, Y/n wouldn't dare try to leave him again.

The green-eyed man held him close, and he thought about all the things he would do to keep Y/n with him. He would make sure that Y/n never left his sight, that he never spoke to anyone else, and that he was the only one who could protect him.

After all, Dean killed the few friends Y/n had to make Y/n dependent on Dean. He had proven his love and devotion to the man in the most extreme way possible.

And now he would do whatever it took to make sure that Y/n loved him back.

XXXXX XXXXX 

[keksalot404]

Uh oh! Some BOZO decided to play UNDERTALE and UNDERTALE YELLOW at the same time (Both games FUN value was 66) and now the timeline is F*CKED (By about one year; It wasn't that long till Frisk came along)

This is the Guide to UNDERTALE ROM LEAK, mostly a frame of reference for me and you regarding this AU born from a doodle and a dream. Those who just want to see the art with no context, feel free to click the top pic and swipe down or something.

A Tale of 2.5 Souls

Seems like whatever the reason Frisk went to the mountain, they ended up tailing Clover, where the game begins. Control between the 2 fallen children is split, meaning that both Frisk and Clover are free to express their quirks and personalities more.

Adding to that, NarraChara is also here, being visible to Frisk, Clover, AND the player due to more determination in the area. Frisk still has higher DT than Clover, so they're in charge of LOADing and SAVEing as well as playing leader.

Prepare For Trouble, Make It Double!

Now obviously the timeline can't really be UT or UTY if all major events need to be dealt with. The universe's solution? Now every Major Character (and perhaps minor ones) are paired up with their cross game counterparts. While encounters for each monster can be seperate, eventually they will cross paths with eachother and the fallen humans.

With each section of the Underground now longer with even paired area newly connected (More on how that works later), it'd feel like even 2 player characters can't make it easy. Fortunately for a certain route, you may get some help...

Kanako

To fill a void for a Certain Short Scientist, seems fate pulled a few strings, and brought a new friend back from near-death! If you don't kill any monsters during RUINS, Kanako will sense your pure hearts and join the party, acting as the Ralsei to this Diet Fun Gang.

With healing and shield magic, she'll make your journey a lot more manageble, at the cost of not being able to kill any monsters all the way until Asgore (She will still allow you to spare monsters by lowering health but if she senses a chance to kill she will block the attack and scold you for it.)

Being a much more attentive protector than the Skeleton, she'll accompany Frisk and Clover through the emotional highs and lows of their journey, and perhaps maybe...

You'll find out the true reason she's helping you.

Stronger Monsters

For the characters of the 2 timelines being destined to meet, it is also true that destiny will point into blocking your path. For the Major Battles at least, you'll have to fight both of them at the end of each paired areas. An example being meeting North Star in Wild East only for Starlo's betrayal being calling Undyne to hunt you during Waterfall.

Expect combo attacks, fused soul modes, and complex strategies when facing the duel bosses. Some might even compromise Kanako from assisting. No fight has the same solution as the UT and UTY fights (except maybe Papyrus and Martlet), so be prepared and stay determined!

So have fun while you can, won't you? It's not likely you will get these games together again. You wouldn't waste this once-in-a-while experience just to do something you'll regret.

You wouldn't waste it just to see what happens...

...right?...

...