#just ask if you want any further reasoning

[howtofightwrite]

so if someone is shot with an arrow and we’re not supposed to (or more likely can’t, because of the arrowhead design) pull the arrow out of a wound, but we shouldn’t push it all the way through either… how would someone go about removing an arrow? In a less lethal area at least, like a limb. You can’t just leave it in, especially if it’s pinning together muscles that you need to be able to use.

So, eventually, that arrowhead is going to need to come out. The recommendation about leaving the arrow in the wound is more for immediate first aid, rather than a long term solution.

Specifically, the first aid advice is to bandage around the arrow, so that the entire thing is stabilized. In the event that the arrow is helping to seal the wound, you don't want to pull it out, but you also don't want it moving around causing more damage. It's a bit of a delicate balance in that regard. If it's in a leg, and the injured individual cannot walk on their own (which is likely) they'll need assistance, either a stretcher or someone to help support them, while they get to help.

This is one of those times where the best medical practice runs counter to the popular image of how an arrow in a wound is treated. Which is to say, the character who's just been shot ripping it out, staring at it for a moment, and then throwing it a way. Much like pulling a knife out of a wound, this is a great way to accidentally start a fatal bleed out.

If aid is being rendered by someone with actual medical training, in an environment where a bit more work can be done, then the arrow does need to come out. This may also require packing the wound with gauze in the event that it does start bleeding seriously, and bandaging the wound to minimize further aggravation.

Now, if you need to use the muscles that just got pinned together, I've got some bad news. Even after the arrow comes out, those muscles are not going to be working right for a while. As we've mentioned before, your muscles are basically bundles of meat chords, getting pulled over your skeleton based on electric signals. If some of those chords have been cut, they're going to need to heal before they'll do anything, and the ones around them in the same muscle will be under much greater strain, and also at risk of tearing. So, the affected body part will be weakened, after the arrowhead comes out, and trying to use it in any serious way, runs a serious risk of inflicting further harm and impairment. Worst case, if strained too severely, this can actually cause a muscle to completely tear. In this case, you're probably looking at surgery, just to get the muscle to start healing.

The good news, such as it is, you don't need a full surgical theater or surgeon to get the arrowhead out. A reasonably trained medic with decent supplies can do it in the field. The problem is if the arrowhead nicked an artery, and is holding pressure, if that comes out, you're probably going to die. (Then again, even in a surgical theater, with a wound like that, it could easily be touch-and-go.)

So, yes, the arrowhead does need to come out, and it can be removed by a trained medic. What you don't want to do is the, “badass,” reach up and rip it out, routine, because that can kill you. (Also, a trained medic will be in a much better position to make an educated guess whether it's safe to pull out the arrow, or if it really needs to stay where it is until the injured individual can get to a hospital.)

What's harder is that even after you can get articulation back, that area's going to be hurting for a long time. Torn muscles (which includes if someone's carved you up with a blade, or asked you to hold an arrow for them) can take more than three months to heal. So, while getting the foreign object out is a critical step on the path to recovery, it's going to be a bit before you're up and going after that.

Modern medicine grades all of these (including where the muscle has been completely severed, or torn) as “muscle strains” with three grades. Grade I strain indicates a few stretched or torn fibers, but nothing too serious. You've probably experienced this from time to time, and while your body's ability to repair these injuries is technically limited, it will usually heal in a couple weeks. Grade II strains (which is what you're seeing from an arrow wound) will take at least two months to recover. Grade III strains are where the muscle is completely severed, and as mentioned, require surgery, and will still take months of physical therapy after the injury, in addition to the healing process.

-Starke

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[chuuyascumsock]

Holding you, Holding me [Week One] || MINORS DNI

Summary: Dazai hurt your feelings, but he knows just how to make up for it.

Tags: Dazai Osamu/Reader, Afab reader, Hurt/Comfort, 3.1K Words, Fingering, Gentle Sex, Cuddle-Fucking, Soft-Dom Dazai, Petnames (Baby, Darling, Sweet Girl, etc.), Slight Cockwarming/Plugging, He’s Not The Pullout King For A Reason, Physically Unable.

Sinners: @pe4rl-diver , @sakui1 , @mxya-dreams , @runs-withscissors , @writingandmusing , @mairia-chan , @dearestwitchtrials

As much as Dazai slacked off on the office aspect of his job, missions never allowed much leniency with his usual shenanigans and horrid procrastinating tendencies, especially with so many lives at stake.

You think you do a pretty decent job at giving Dazai his space when need be, but it had been nearly a month since you had last seen him or even talked to him. Being a detective and getting into so many life threatening situations, it wasn’t a surprise that he only carried around a small device given to him by the agency to keep in touch with other members, though he occasionally found a way to ping you from time to time on it or forced— ahem— politely asked Ango to pass on a message from him. When he finally returned, you couldn’t help yourself but be all over him, wanting to follow his every step and cling to him as much as possible.

Dazai was already tired and grouchy from the whole ordeal of having to put up with so many people for so many days, feeling the overwhelming need to be alone. He tried his best to ignore the small pinch of irritation in the back of his mind when you clung to him as soon as he walked through the door and bombarded him with questions about his well-being, knowing you were merely being a caring partner to him.

But when a couple hours passed and you continued to follow his shadow and attempt more conversation with him, he couldn’t help but let a sound of annoyance huff through his nose and speak in a monotone, “Don’t you have any concept of personal space? I clearly don’t want to be around you right now.” If he wasn’t thinking about how he worded things before, he definitely did after he glanced over and saw your face.

First, you were taken aback by his words and tone, having never experienced Dazai act like this towards you before— and then the hurt settled in quickly after, expression falling, brows lowering, and lips parting just barely. You try to find words to say, but nothing comes out. There’s a subtle ache in your chest and lump in your throat and you think about how embarrassing it is to get so worked up over a couple of words and how you probably looked like an overly-emotional mess to Dazai. Doing your best to keep yourself from crying, you advert your glassy eyes and tilt your head down, nodding with a barely comprehensible, “Ok...” Before shuffling away to another part of the apartment to leave him alone just as he wanted.

Dazai regrets what he says to you almost immediately, but can’t find it in him to follow after you or say anything at the moment.

When you don’t sleep next to him that night like you usually do after his longer missions, he knows you’re still upset by his words as you lay near the edge of the futon, back facing him. It only gets worse when he tries to pull you in and curl up against your back from behind, your hands moving to pull him off you and put distance between you once more. He murmurs your name in a near whine, only feeling the regret hit him tenfold when you throw his words back in his face, “Don’t you have any concept of personal space?”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Dazai sighs, trying once more to cuddle with you— only to get the same treatment once again.

“You’re not,” You mumble, pulling your separate covers up more to shield yourself from him, blocking any further attempts of him trying to hold you.

Dazai is unable to hold back the frustrated noise that slips from the back of his throat as he gives up and lays on his back to face the ceiling, a distressed expression etched on his face.

Just how was he supposed to show you that he was sorry?

It only takes around an hour until Dazai gets an idea, a lopsided grin spreading across his lips as he glances over to your already unconscious form. After sleeping on it, Dazai wakes up before you for once and gets ready to go into work, taking the time to sneak a kiss onto your forehead as you sleep before taking off.

You go about your own day, noticing that Dazai had woken up before you and left without waking you up to even tell you, souring your mood further. You know that you were partly to blame because he tried to fix the issue and you turned your back on him, but you weren’t about to accept a half-assed apology from him after the way he spoke to you. By the time you get back home from work, you don’t feel like making dinner, but you do anyway— even if you are still mad and undeniably want to just leave Dazai to fend for himself for the night. Because you know that if you don’t, he’ll most likely eat half a can of crab meat and drink a bottle of sake, or maybe not even eat at all due to his concerning eating habits.

You’ve most likely dulled your cooking knives in the process as you aggressively chop ingredients like they owe you money, tossing them messily into a stirring bowl after with the rest of your ingredients. Your eyes flicker to the clock a couple of times throughout and you notice that Dazai is late which causes your eye to twitch. “Oh, so he’s just avoiding me now completely? That…” You trail off, muttering to yourself angrily as your movements grow more tense.

When you hear the front door open, you don’t make any move to greet him at the door like you usually would, too distracted and upset to care that Dazai had finally come home. It’s only when you feel his lanky body press against your back that you break out of your stewing anger to tell him off before a bouquet of purple hyacinths is held in front of your face and keeps you quiet. Your head turns to look over your shoulder at him, squinting momentarily as you take in the way his lips quirk up at your silence, meaning he was already a step into being forgiven.

“Hey, sweet pea,” Dazai’s soft tone nearly makes you melt, but you turn away from him and keep cooking despite the flowers in your face. A frown crosses his features for a moment before washing away, not deterred one bit by your attitude. “Baby…” He trails off, bringing his free hand to your own in order to grasp your wrist lightly and stop you from cooking further. “Don’t ignore me, please? I missed you all day,” He tries coaxing you into moving away from the counter, but you stay put.

“I’m not ignoring you, I’m giving you space,” You emphasize. “Cause you don’t wanna be around me.”

Dazai loudly groans, placing the hyacinths aside to wrap his arms around your waist and bury his face into the crook of your neck. “You know I didn’t mean it like that, ‘donna. There’s nothing more that I want than to be around you all the time…”

You wriggle in his arms, only to feel them squeeze around you tighter as you attempt to free yourself. “Yeah, well that still doesn’t change the fact that you said it and it hurt my feelings…” You continue to struggle for a bit until you give up, doing the only thing you can do and lean back against him.

“I know, I suck,” Dazai muffles into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss against your skin. “I was irritated and I took it out on you— m’sorry.” His kisses trail up to your jaw and then your cheek, lips smothering your flushing skin in a flurry of sweet pecks. “Don’t be mad at me anymore?” He begs, lengthy fingers inching their way underneath your shirt to run along your soft skin.

“I didn’t see you for a month,” You start, just on the verge of letting it go when one of his hands teases the waistband of your shorts.

“And it was terrible, sweet heart,” He responds with a pout, lips moving to your temple as his hand under your shirt caresses your stomach soothingly.

“I really missed you,” You whisper, subconsciously leaning further into his touch. “And you were really mean.”

“I’ll try not to do it again,” Dazai promises as he pulls back, moving back down to finally press a slow and tender kiss to your lips.

You finally give in, knowing that you couldn’t be upset with him for too long, especially with the month long distance that you had just experienced. You kiss him back lovingly, tilting your head for a better angle as you reach a hand back to grip into his dark hair. When you pull away, you give a small sigh and mumble, “Okay… m’not mad at you anymore.”

“That’s good,” Dazai smiles, moving his hands away from your shorts and out of your shirt. “But I still wanna show you how sorry I am,” He insists, scooping you up into his arms as he takes you into the living room to sit on the couch with you sat sideways in his lap.

“I was in the middle of cooking dinner,” You complain, but don’t try and escape again as you’ve learned your lesson the first time. Your arms loop around his neck and he gives you a boyish grin in return, wrapping his own arms loosely around your waist.

“Dinner can wait,” Dazai murmurs, tugging your shorts off carefully as he leans in to pepper the side of your face with kisses again. “This is more important, don’t you think, darling?” He drops your shorts to the floor, slender hand coming to run from your ankle, up your calf, to along the outside of your thigh slowly, squeezing the flesh between his lithe fingers. “Hm?”

You feel his eyelashes flutter against the skin of your cheek, lips finding their way back to your jaw as he waits for an answer. On one hand, you want to finish cooking dinner, but on the other— how could you ever pass up on the opportunity he’s giving you, especially considering how long you’ve gone without him? He’s working his way to your neck when you respond, mouth sucking softly at your skin to leave a hickey. “Okay, fine— but nothing too much, I still need to finish dinner after because I know you haven’t eaten today,” You compromise, sighing softly when he hums against your neck and then pulls away to admire the dark mark he made.

“Always looking out for me— more than I deserve. My sweet girl,” Dazai coos quietly, trailing his hand from the outside of your thigh to the inside, running his fingertips over the crotch of your underwear.

You can’t help but let your body meld against his, letting him arrange and touch you the way he wants to as his saccharine words overtake your senses. When he presses his fingers against your crotch, a low groan slips from your lips, face turning to hide in his neck. “No…”

“Yes,” Dazai chuckles, applying more pressure to press between your folds and rub along the fabric of your underwear against your clit. The man only grins further when your hips jolt at his touch, spurring him further with his soft touches and sweet kisses. “You know you do, sweet pea. Cause you’re the best girlfriend, right?” He revels in the way you whine at his pampering, unable to help the overwhelming need to continue until you’re a babbling mess in his hands. Which is why he’s quick to move his finger from your clothed folds to dip into your waistband and continue where he left off, rubbing at your sensitive nub with a gentle touch as he kisses your face. “Right?”

You choke out a moan, thighs pressing together tightly to trap his hand, but his fingers keep moving which has you squirming. “Fuck, ‘Samu—“

“Oh, so close, but that’s not an answer, baby,” Dazai chimes out, prying your thighs apart with his hands before slipping his hand back into your panties to push a finger into your entrance, grinning widely when you gasp. It doesn’t hurt when he slides it in, his fingers thin and your insides slicked with arousal already, but the stretch from his second finger entering has your gummy walls squeezing around him tightly. “Answer me,” He giggles, pressing his fingers as far as possible until the heel of his hand is rubbing against your clit.

“Nghh— right! Y-You’re right, ‘Samu,” You squeak out, rutting your pussy against his hand and moaning from the way your throbbing clit drags against his palm.

“Good girl, baby,” Dazai coos, curling his fingers with each pump to press against the spongy parts of your insides that make you desperately grind along with his touch, face burying deeper into the crook of his neck. “You’re so cute, sweet heart, humping my hand so desperately. Like my fingers that much?”

Despite wanting to wipe his cocky smirk off his lips, you can’t help but clench around his digits tighter at his teasing, encouraging Dazai to quicken his fingers and dig the heel of his hand as firmly against your clit as possible. When his finger crooked to prod at your g-spot once more, you fall apart with a pitchy keen, coming around his fingers as he watches on, enthralled with how you melt into his chest already spent from his attention. Panting softly, you whine at the loss of his fingers filling you up as he withdraws them from your pussy to bring to his lips and clean off your release.

Dazai hums lightly before pulling his fingers out and pinching your chin gently to tilt your head back to place a sloppy kiss to your lips, licking into your mouth to give you a taste of yourself. “Always so sweet, darling,” He then laughs quietly at your lulling eyes, “You look so tired already, but I’ve only just started, so don’t fall asleep on me yet, sweet pea.”

“But I said nothing too much,” You groan as he strips you from your shirt and panties, tossing them aside with your shorts before slipping his trenchcoat off his shoulders to have more freedom.

“Yes, yes, I know you did— and it isn’t too much— I know you can take it cause you’re my good girl, yeah?” Dazai persuades easily, satisfied when you give him a half-hearted nod while he shifts you on his thigh to unbuckle his pants with a hand, opening it enough just to allow him enough room to pull his stiff cock from his boxers. “Besides, you won’t have to do any of the work, how does that sound?” He adds, fisting a closed hand around his throbbing member a couple times to spread his pre-cum along his shaft before scooping under your knees and back to lift you up enough as to align himself between your puffy folds.

Tightening your arms around Dazai’s neck, you watch over your shoulder as his weeping tip nestles just barely into your fluttering hole, then sinking in slowly as he lowers you onto his cock. Dazai was never one to keep quiet, and he wasn’t starting anytime soon with the loud groan that falls from his lips as his head leans against the back of the couch. You can barely keep your own moan in, clutching a fistful of his hair at the nape of his neck while being lowered down until Dazai buried himself to the hilt.

“Fuck,” He drawls out, moving to press his forehead against yours, a tender kiss placed to the corner of your mouth. “Can’t believe s’been a month since I’ve had you like this,” Dazai pants, keeping you curled up in his arms leaning against his chest as he tries to control himself from coming right then and there. “Missed you so much, didn’t mean to be so mean. Was just stressed, y’know?” He rambles on as his hips draw down before snapping back up into you again, a squeal tumbling from your throat as he sets a steady pace. And just as he promised, you didn’t have to lift a finger, holding onto him as he drills into your tight warmth with fervor, lips beginning to messily press against your face in search of your lips.

You would laugh at how near-pathetic he was with how desperate he was when it came to kissing you if he wasn’t balls deep in you and angling his hips to curve his thrusts deeper into your cunt, pushing you closer to a second orgasm. Instead, you meet his lips in a kiss, intense from the longing of nearly a month apart and no time to dwell on it before now when you’re finally close like this. It’s filled with teeth and tongue, his nose and forehead bumping against yours with every thrust. He huffs heavily into your mouth between kisses, refusing to pull away for even a second as his arms wrap around you tighter to hold you as still as possible as he snaps his hips against your ass, the bottoms of your thighs and ass jiggling when his hips kiss against your skin. “Please, please ‘Samu, I’m gonna come— wan’ it so bad,” You muffle between his heated kisses, hands curling and tugging at his dark hair.

“I know, baby,” His voice cracks, hips faltering momentarily as he finds stable enough footing to quicken his thrusts. His blunt nails dig into your skin as he can’t hold back from coming first with a loud whine, hips giving a few more rough thrusts as his cum spurts out to fill you until it’s spilling out and down his twitching shaft and balls.

Feeling him come undone, you’re close behind him as you squeeze and pulse around him, your own cum mixing with his. You’re too tired to speak, groaning weakly instead all the while falling limp against Dazai. Dinner and the flowers are long forgotten at this point, a distant thought in your mind.

Dazai tiredly chuckles, kissing you a few more times before relaxing back into the couch and settling you back down on his lap to keep you stuffed with his cum. “All tuckered out, hm? You’re cute.” He lets you rest your head under his chin, fingers gently caressing the skin of your arm in a soothing motion as he gathers his bearings. “We can worry about dinner later,” He pauses when you grunt at him, displeased by his words. “Don’t be like that, sweet heart. I promise I’ll eat as much as you want me to, just let me hold you right now, okay?” He whispers, placing a final kiss to the side of your head.

Dazai had an impressively ridiculous amount of ways to piss you off, but he always found a way to make you forget about it by the end of the next day.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I wanted you to know that I love your stories, all of them, and I'm really curious about Jason in Freelance Inventor — he didn't die, but is he still a vigilant? If so, who is he? Is he still Red Hood, even if Joker didn't get him? Or is he going to college know that he's not Robin for some time?

Jason Todd reads over his essay one last time, double-checking for any spelling or grammar issues. He's reasonably confident that there are none, but with last night's Riddle fiasco, he had yet to get much-needed sleep before typing it out.

The last time he turned in an assignment with that much lost sleep, he had somehow written lyrics to the music he was listening to while researching.

He leans back in his chair, cracking his knuckles once he verifies everything is in order. After a quick stretch, he reaches for his mouse and clicks open his online class platform.

Three clicks later, this week's work is uploaded into the submission box, waiting for his professor to review it. He lingers on the page long enough for it to flash the confirmation and clicks the tab towards his email, making sure the same notice arrives there before closing everything down.

He's exhausted, more so than usual for a college student, but if he wanted the weekend open to having that fishing trip with Danny, he needed to get his ass in gear.

Jason sighs, reaching for the textbook of his female authors in history class next. His eyes drop as he flips through the chapters to the most current one.

Norally, Jason would adore reading, but trying to force himself after being awake for who knows how many hours just causes the words to blur before his eyes.

A knock at his doorway jolts him from the third re-read passage.

Danny is standing there with a tray that contains a steaming warm mug, a plate of cookies, and another plate of his famous grilled triple-cheese sandwiches.

"Hey, Kid," He says, that same nickname that he had used since Jason first arrived at Wayne Manor still curls with the same equal amount of warmth and care. "Brought you something to eat."

"Thanks Danny" Jason smiles, accepting the food without much fuss. He isn't quick enough to hide his yawn, causing his pseudo- step father to frown.

"How much sleep did you have last night?" He asks in that same disapproving voice since Jason told him about his new job.

"Enough. I just got to finish these assigments then I'll take a nap" He promises.

Danny's eyes narrow further before he sighs. If there is one thing he adores about talking to Danny is that he almost never argues with the kids. He makes his displeasure known, puts in his two cents more often then not, but he is also willing to hear them out.

Even if he disagrees with a job mainly involving graveyard shifts at university. As far as Danny knows, Jason got a job within Wayne Enterprise as one of the emergency hotlines for troubled youths.

They anonymously helped provide kids a safe space to sleep for the night, no questions asked. Jason had help develop the program back durning his break from the vigilanete sceen as a teen.

After Sheila and Ethiopia, he was too injured to go out into the field, forcing him to take a break. While on the break, he realized that Bruce was right. Jason had far too much empathy, crushed by all the darkness he saw on the streets, turning to this side of unnecessary rough when dealing with criminals.

Robin had always been magic to him, but it was losing its shine by harsh reality. The break helped clear his mind and made Jason realize he no longer wanted to be Robin. He wanted to be Jason Todd, kept around not because of how useful he was but because of how beloved he was.

To this day, he is forever grateful that he had built a strong enough bond to call Danny, just in case Bruce disowns him as he feared back then. Danny had been shockingly close by, forcing Jason to promise not to get too close to Sheila without him- as he had brought up the critical detail that Sheila had given up custody rights with a side note of possible danger to baby Jason in her file- and Jason had listened.

Danny was a mere six hours away, but by the third hour, he couldn't wait any longer. He had gone to meet Sheila, choosing to not reveal his Robin persona just because Danny wasn't in the know yet.

He only told her when he followed her to the warehouse to try to convince her that he could save her from the Joker. She had maybe three seconds to process his claim before the Joker busted in, eager to torment a child, vigilante or not.

Joker didn't know he was attacking Robin. He just liked bringing misery.

She stood back and did nothing while Joker bounded him and beat the tar out of him with a crowbar.

Jason was honestly thinking he was going to die until the Fenton Ghost Assault Vehicle rammed through the metal doors, ripping them like paper, and slammed not only Sheila but the Joker. Crashing them under the wheels of his large RV with gusto. It was surprising that neither passed away from the collision.

Danny had fung himself from the passenger seat like a warth, dragging the wounded Jason to safety. The bomb Joker planned to set off was never started, left to be discovered by a team of investigators who would remove the clown's political immunity once his crimes in the county were found, as the clown and his little assistant were left unconscious on the ground.

He would later be joined at one of the only Ethiopian hospitals by a hysterical Batman who didn't have an excuse for why he knew and was worried about Jason Todd.

The whole thing was a reality check that Jason and Bruce needed separately. Danny had ripped each of them a new one once everyone realized Jason would recover. It was during this lecture that Jason had let it slip that he knew Dick was the only real son, as Bruce had offered him adoption once he found the paperwork but not the street rat.

Danny had dragged Bruce by the ear to Jason's new hospital room in Gotham, making sure the man was carrying the adoption forms Bruce had applied for one week after taking in Jason. No one had ever wanted Jason.

But Bruce did even if Danny had to stand guard at the doorway, glaring at them both until they spoke about their emotions. Then, to even further shock Jason, Danny had shown him a new invention. It was a emergency tracker that would show where the older man was at any given time in the world.

It came with a messaging concept (back before phones had the texting option) and a promise that Jason could always reach Danny regardless of the day or time to talk.

Jason had busted into tears, the first time he was brave enough to message I think I want to go to college

The replay came a mere seconds later. I know you can do it, Kid; let's get you to college.

He gave up the mask and the cap, choosing only to remind computer support to his father and brother- then later little Tim, who Danny brought home- and continue his education.

His mother—the one who had cared for him and loved him like her own—his real one—would have been so proud of Jason as he walked across the stage to receive his diploma. Catherine would have been one of the loudest cheering, but the Fentons- who had all showed up after Danny sent out the word- more than made up for it.

The Waynes were loud, but nothing could be the hollering Jack, Dani, and Danny Fenton made when Jason gave his valedictorian speech for his high school graduation. Maddie and Jazz had clapped loudly, too, grinning ear to to ear as Jason waved at them.

He was accepted into Gotham University that fall, hoping to work his way to an English diploma. He kept up with his training dispite only being on communications and information for the Bats but the itch to get back into the feild was growing.

Maybe Robin had not made it out of Ethiopia, but Jason Todd did, and Jason thinks that Crime Alley needed a hero. Someone who could curl the violence there because they grew and knew the violence like the back of his hand.

Maybe the crime alley needed a Pheonix to watch over it.

Just after Phoniex finishes this one last assigment.

"Don't stay up too late. Get some sleep!" Danny demands as Jason munches on his food and opens a new blank Word document. This one is for a poerty elective he choosen and he had the perfect theme for his.

He types out Found Family in the title.

[parkerslatte]

Down Comes The Blade

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: blood and injury.

Summary: While on a mission with Azriel, Y/N’s mind gets taken over and she only has one thought on her mind. Kill Azriel.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The rain poured down heavily as Azriel and Y/N surveyed the small cabin from the dense forest. There was a flicker of candlelight through the window signalling someone was inside. Next to him, Azriel felt Y/N shiver. He had noticed it more than once since the rain started over an hour ago though Y/N never mentioned anything about it. 

Slowly, Azriel wrapped his wing around her body, doing his best to block out the rain. The movement caused a stir in the trees sending a few leaves falling to the floor and branches to shake. 

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked, her voice quiet. 

“You are cold,” answered Azriel, taking his eyes off of the cabin for a brief moment to look at Y/N. If it were anyone else, he certainly wouldn’t have done it. 

Y/N shrugged. “It’s part of the job.”

“I did tell you to wear your winter leathers,” Azriel said as his gaze returned to the cabin. 

“It wasn’t cold when we left,” Y/N said. “And they are getting too small for me now. It’s been a while since I wore them.”

Another shiver from Y/N caused Azriel to pull her closer to him by his wing. His arm twitching by his side in desperation– desperation to wrap it around her body and pull her flush against him. 

“Surely this isn’t practical?” Y/N asked, her gaze slipping from the cabin to glance at Azriel. 

“You being cold isn’t practical,” Azriel said, flexing his hands which were beginning to become stiff with the cold. 

As he rested his hands back on his knees, warmth encased his hands and Azriel couldn’t help but look down to find Y/N’s glove covered hands wrapping around his. 

“You being cold isn’t practical either,” Y/N said, her body shuffling closer to him and Azriel felt his heart beat a little faster. 

Y/N didn’t let go of Azriel’s hands, even as she fixed her gaze on the cabin once more. Once Azriel followed in her footsteps, he suddenly remembered the reason they were sitting in the pouring rain. The patience Azriel had was high but it was wearing thin. All he wanted to do was return home and relax, preferably with Y/N by his side– if he could ever muster up the confidence to confess to her.

A crack of a log behind them diverted the duo’s attention. It was pitch black through the trees. 

“What was that?” Y/N whispered. 

Another crack. 

“Stay here,” Azriel said. “I’ll go and look. It might be nothing.”

And it was nothing. 

There was nothing at all and Azriel sighed as he trudged back to Y/N through the rain. He hadn’t even wanted to go on this mission in the first place as it didn’t seem to be a priority. However once Rhys mentioned that Y/N was to accompany him, Azriel immediately accepted it. He still hated sitting in the rain in the dark. 

Azriel slowed his pace as he came to the area where Y/N was sitting not even a few minutes ago. She wasn’t there. A quick glance around the area confirmed that this was where she just was. The same two trees that began to intertwine the further up they became. The same fallen tree not even a metre away. Y/N should have been here. 

“Y/N?” Azriel whispered as he frantically looked around. “Y/N, where are you?”

The thumping of his heart quickened as Azriel scanned the area for any sign of her. There were not even footsteps in the mud below his feet. Pushing his wet hair out of his eyes, Azriel looked toward the cabin. The door was wide open and a familiar figure stood in front of it. 

Without thinking, Azriel rushed forward. “Y/N,” he whispered. 

Y/N didn’t turn to him, not even as he was standing an arm length away. He spared a glance to the open door of the cabin, there was no one inside. The flickering candles were nearly burnt out. 

“Y/N,” Azriel said. “We should go.”

Once his arm found its way onto her bicep, Azriel noticed Y/N slowly pulling the blade strapped to her side free. 

“What are you doing?” Azriel asked, his normally calm voice rising with a hint of panic. “We need to go now.”

It happened fast. Y/N’s blade flew past his head and embedded itself into a tree behind him. Azriel let go of her arm and took a step back. There was no time for a rest as Y/N drew her other blade, the one Azriel had gifted to her just before they went on this mission, and held it tightly in her hand. She lunged at him. 

With a quick dodge, Azriel was out of the way but that didn’t stop Y/N as she only lunged again. And again. And again. 

“Y/N!” Azriel exclaimed as he tried to hold her off but Y/N knew every single move he made, even going so far as to prejudice them before he made them. It was incredibly useful when they were working side by side. But now as she continuously tried to slice him with her blade, it wasn’t ideal. 

“Y/N, stop!”

Y/N didn’t stop even as Azriel procured truth teller. Metal scraped against metal as their blades met. With one arm, Azriel managed to hold onto Y/N’s wrist, holding her hand with the blade out to the side just as he pulled her back against his chest, breathing heavily. Truthteller hovering close to her. 

“Why are you doing this?” Azriel asked, desperation evident in his tone. He didn’t want to fight against Y/N. He didn’t want to hurt her. 

Y/N thrashed in his hold, grunts of frustration slipping from her lips. She sounded almost animalistic. With a thrash of her head that was when Azriel noticed it. It was small but it was there. A small slice across her collarbone where her leathers had been ripped away. It had been too dark to notice it at first. The skin surrounding the cut was purple and black. Poison, Azriel concluded. 

Guilt crept up Azriel’s spine. He shouldn’t have left her. He should have known that those sounds were simply a diversion. 

“Y/N,” Azriel whispered, his voice softer as his lips grazed her ear. “Please.”

Y/N screamed and tore out of Azriel’s grasp. Truthteller slicing her cheek in the process. Azriel stilled as blood poured from the wound. It wasn’t a shallow cut, he was sure he felt the blade touch her bone. He had caused that injury. If he hadn't been holding truthteller at that specific angle…

Everything was quiet as Y/N stood before him, her chest heaving, blood pouring down her face. It was clear the poison, along with controlling her mind, was also taking her energy. Those eyes that Azriel loved so much were clouded over with a haze. 

“Y/N,” Azriel said, his voice shaking. “I know why you are doing this and I know you cannot help it. The poison will make you fight me until either I drop down dead or you drop down dead. I could fight you until either Rhys or Cassian arrive to help but I won’t do that. I can’t do that.”

There was still no recognition in Y/N’s eyes but she didn’t seem to lunge at him so Azriel continued. “I won’t fight you.” Azriel dropped truthteller to the ground. “I will not hurt the person that I love. So if you want to fight, you will need to kill me here because I would rather die than let you get hurt again by my hand.”

Slowly, Y/N stepped forward, the grip on the blade loosening. A spark of hope lit up within Azriel. His gaze didn’t break from hers as she stood close to him now he could smell the familiar and comforting scent of her, even in the rain and through the blood. 

“Y/N,” Azriel said softly, his hand coming up to caress her face. “I love y–”

The phrase wasn’t completed as a cold blade found its mark in Azriel’s side. His eyes widened in shock. Y/N pulled the blade out and blood poured from the wound. Stumbling back, Azriel crashed onto his back in the mud, coughing up blood. 

Y/N looked down, the haze over her eyes lifting. Azriel wished he was dead. He wished the moment Y/N stabbed him he would have died instantly. 

He watched as the horror of what she had just done wash over her features. She screamed his name as she scrambled in the mud to get to him. Nothing she said was clear as she put pressure on his wound. 

“Why didn’t you fight me back, you stupid male,” Y/N said through her tears.

“I couldn’t hurt you,” Azriel said, resting his hand on top of hers. 

“Hurt me all you needed,” Y/N said. “Anything to stop me from doing this.”

Azriel shook his head as he closed his eyes. It was getting hard to keep them open. “I couldn’t hurt someone I love.”

Despite Y/N’s pleading and begging for him to stay awake, Azriel welcomed the darkness not knowing if he were to wake up again. 

***

When Azriel woke, he was surprised. It felt as if only moments had passed since he had last closed his eyes but as he moved his hand and felt the stubble on his face, he could tell it had been longer. Beside him in the chairs, Rhys and Cassian sat sleeping soundly, though looking quite uncomfortable. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Azriel asked, his voice hoarse. 

Rhys opened his eyes and sat up straight in the chair. “No hello for Cass and I?”

Azriel didn’t have time for Rhys’s attempts to cheer him up. “Where’s Y/N?”

Rhys sighed and shared a look with Cassian. “Y/N hasn’t left her room since we saved you a week ago. She explained what happened and locked herself away from everyone. Madja didn’t even have the chance to treat that cut on her face.”

Azriel solwy sat up. “I did that to her.”

“And she stabbed you,” Cassian said. 

Azriel growled. “She didn’t do it on her own accord, Cassian. I need to see her.���

“You need to rest,” Rhys said. 

Azriel ignored him. “Order me all you like. I’ll only ignore them.”

Even if it had been a whole week since Azriel was stabbed. His body was still in pain and he groaned as he stood up from the bed.

“At least rest until the pain is bearable,” Cassian suggested. 

“No,” Azriel responded and before either Rhys or Cassian could stop him, he allowed his shadows to encase him and before he knew it, he stood inside of Y/N’s room. 

The curtains were closed and she was laying down in her bed. From the sound of her breathing, it was clear she wasn’t asleep. 

“Y/N?” Azriel spoke up. 

“Please leave, Azriel,” Y/N replied, her voice muffled by the blanket she was cuddling. He knew exactly what blanket it was and it wasn’t even hers– it was his. She has most likely taken it from his room. 

“Don’t shut me out, Y/N,” Azriel pleaded, limping over to the bed. 

There was no response from Y/N as Azriel climbed into the bed, facing her back. His wings were uncomfortable hanging off the edge. He wanted to reach out to her but if Azriel knew anything about Y/N, it was that she would simply flinch away from any kind of touch after anyone was hurt on a mission, especially pain she had caused. 

“Can you look at me?” Azriel asked. 

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Y/N turned over in her bed. The wound on her face was mostly healed and Azriel could already tell it would leave a prominent scar. Guilt crept up his spine once more. 

“I’m sorry. For doing that.” He gestured to the scar.

“It’s not anything I don’t deserve,” Y/N replied.

“No, don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. Y/N you didn’t know what you were doing, you couldn’t control what you were doing.”

“You’re wrong on one of those statements,” Y/N confessed. “I knew everything, Azriel. I saw everything I was doing. I was aware of everything but it felt as if something else had taken over my body and I was simply a spectator. I begged myself to stop, I couldn’t sit there and watch you be killed by my own hand. But nothing I did seemed to work.”

Azriel’s hand moved until it was placed next to Y/N’s on the pillow. He didn’t touch her, allowing her to make the first move if it was something she wanted. “Y/N, please listen to me very closely. There was nothing you could have done. What you were poisoned with, I have read about it. There was no way to get it out of your system without either you severely injuring me or me killing you.”

“I wish you would have killed me,” Y/N muttered. 

“Killing you would have only killed the both of us,” Azriel replied. “I could not have lived with myself if I would have killed you.”

“And you think I can live with myself for nearly killing you?” Y/N exclaimed. 

“Yes, because you are stronger than me, Y/N,” Azriel said. “Yes, you would have been upset about it. Perhaps you would have done exactly what you are doing right now, locking yourself away, not interacting with anyone. But I have known you for many years. I know that you would have eventually found yourself moving on, intentionally or not. Because I know you and I know that you want to live, you love your life and you love your friends and family. You know that they will help you through anything.”

“They would do the same for you,” Y/N said. 

“I know but I am not as strong as you, Y/N. If I were to kill you, I would lay down in my bed and I would never rise from it. I would die there and follow you into the afterlife. I would never forgive myself for it. Whereas you had no choice or control if you had killed me, I would have had full control and it would have been my actions that would have caused your death.”

There was no response from Y/N but her fingers gently brushed Azriel’s before she laced her fingers with his. 

“Did you mean it?” Y/N asked.

Azriel knew what she was talking about. “I did.”

“At first I thought you were only saying it to get through to me,” said Y/N, shuffling closer to Azriel in the bed. 

“I was saying it to try and get through to you,” Azriel said with a squeeze of her hand. “It doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it.”

“I wished you would have told me sooner,” Y/N replied. 

“I wish I did too,” Azriel said. “There have been so many times where I wanted to but didn’t have the courage to say it. Call me a coward if you wish.”

“If I were to call you a coward, Az, then it would be extremely hypocritical of me,” Y/N admitted. “Whenever we are alone I have the urge to confess my feelings to you but I always hold myself back. Afraid of your reaction.”

Silence consumed the room, although it wasn’t uncomfortable. Azriel continued to look at Y/N while she looked at their clasped hands. Of course he had held Y/N’s hand before but there was something different about it this time. Perhaps it was because of the indirect confession lingering over them. 

“Can you stay here with me?” Y/N asked. “I haven’t been able to sleep while you have been recovering and knowing that you are here will help I think.”

Gently, Azriel unclasped their hands and opened his arm for Y/N to slot against his chest. “Come here,” he said softly.

Her warm body pressed against his and Azriel practically curled his body around her. Somehow her touch lessened the pain in his body that it wasn’t his primary thought. He was consumed by Y/N as he had been for many years now. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his torso as she buried her head into the crook of his neck and breathed him in before relaxing fully. Azriel assumed it was the first time she had relaxed since she locked herself in the room.

“I love you,” Y/N muttered. 

“I love you too,” Azriel replied with a kiss against her head. 

“You’ll still be here when I wake up?” Y/N asked.

“You would actually need to kill me to get me to leave,” Azriel replied.

“Not funny,” Y/N groaned and buried her head deeper into his neck, her lips brushing over his skin. 

“Of course I’ll be here,” Azriel said softly. “I’ll be by your side for eternity if it is what you wanted.”

“As long as you promise me the same thing.”

Azriel held her a little tighter. “I promise.”

With that promise, Azriel felt himself drifting off into a peaceful sleep with the female he loved in his arms. 

[1moreff-creator]

DRDT CH2 EP16 First Impressions

We’ve reached the end of the chapter! A bittersweet feeling, finally getting closure on this chapter while also ushering in a new hiatus. Still, congrats to dev for making it this far! Hope they enjoy their break, while we enjoy whatever they’ve cooked up for the ending!

Without further ado, let us enjoy peak.

Spoilers for the entirety of CH2 (hell yeah). CW: Execution, suicidal thoughts.

It’s Aceover.

ONE vote for Teruko! Do we think Ace voted for himself? Did the mystery voter from Trial 1 repeat their vote on Teruko? Or did they not, and the vote’s just Ace? {Hindsight: It’s CH1 Mystery Voter probs}

MonoTV: “You got it right!” IT’S ALL OVER.

Okay wait it’s actually kinda weird to see the new David sprites outside of the Trial. Like it’s trippy idk why. That’s crazy.

Eden: “Why her of all people?” Poor Eden, at least give her an answer! Even if it’s just “it was the easiest option” man.

Whit: “I really thought that no one would repeat what happened to Xander and Min.” Is this the very first piece of anti-Whit Time Loop theory evidence? Or is he just lying? I don’t believe the theory, so I’m passing that one to the defenders.

Ace: “I killed her. And if you can’t forgive me for that, then there’s nothing I can say.”

Hey remember when Nico said they didn’t see the point of saying sorry if they wouldn’t be forgiven anyways? Yeah.

The foils are foiling :O

Both Teruko and Eden blaming themselves in their own way (Eden mentioned it in Ep10 “just like Min!” and now Teruko’s bringing “misfortune” into the conversation), man we are in for some sad times with these two. And everyone else ig.

Hu: “How could you say it’s just misfortune?” And Hu is very against this idea, interesting.

“So we can’t blame ourselves for failing to prevent something like that.” Ah, there’s the ticket. She’s trying not to feel guilty about it, which is kinda fair, Arei’s death is 99% Ace’s fault.

Eden: “The Ace I met for the first time wasn’t a murderer.” Oof, Eden hitting us with the full highlight line. She’s so great for this honestly. Everything she says afterwards is also great for her character, I love her (and I don’t need to read her lines with suspicion!!! I’m free!!!)

Veronika. And she’s still smiling. Go worst girl! /affectionate

“The only thing anyone can do in this killing game is to shatter.” We are… getting worryingly close to secret quote wording here.

Rose: “Are you saying Ace was pushed into killing because of things like almost being killed?” (Paraphrased) Oh God she’s gonna feel guilty too because she let Nico get the turpentine! Even if that doesn’t work if Ace had already chosen to kill Eden, still! How much self-blame can we have this trial?

Teruko: “No.” Yeah thank you.

Ace: “Did you all get the Veronika virus or what?” God I’m gonna miss him so much actually.

[To Levi] “Shut up for the rest of your life and kill yourself!” Holy SHIT he’s going out with a bang. {Hindsight: I didn’t realize how accurate this would be}

David: “You still have it in you to throw stones in your glass house.” Did this motherfucker correctly use the idiom Ace fucked up earlier? He’s such a piece of shit /affectionate.

Ace: “I don’t care if it made me a hypocrite!” AGH-! New sprite and the voice acting continues the hot streak of being absolutely fucking stellar! Holy hell!

[To Levi] “I just needed a reason to stay mad at you!” Ouchie!

[The whole Levi v Ace thing] This is just fucking incredible. Levi still doesn’t understand, Ace just wanted to stay mad so he could live with his betrayal, just peak character writing all around. And peak VAing, of course.

Teruko: “I need you to do a favor for me. It might just save your life.” YOOO I CALLED THIS!!! Blackened Blaze of Glory let’s fucking goooo!!!! Thanks to shinycrows for asking me that!!!

“Kill MonoTV for me.” Alright so. Not the best plan ever, but then again, it’s not like any plan against the killing game will work on CH2. Also the way she said that was great.

MonoTV: “Yeah, more murder!” Why’s it so funny for?

Teruko: “Arei died because you’re a coward, Ace!” YO why’s she going so hard right now?! This entire scene is incredible, I don’t even have any words for this much peak. The emotion in her voice, holy fuck- Oh yeah because Arei’s crying reminded her of something! In the playground! So Teruko does have a small connection with Arei so she’d feel real bad (for more reason than just death of someone she knew)! I didn’t put that together till now.

[Ace punches MonoTV] PEAAAK! Oh shit it actually broke! That was so fucking awesome! Let’s fucking go Ace!!!!! Also MonoTV is definitely just coming back, right?

That broken MonoTV sprite though!

Eden: “Finally, it’s over—“ The lack of music is making this really impactful, even though we know it won’t work. Holy shit.

MonoTV: “A fatal error has been detected” We breaking out different fonts?

MonoTV: “Now loading the default XF-Ture personality drivers.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AND THE CROWD GOES FUCKING WILD!!!!

Now we have the question. Was MonoTV created by XF for the game? Or did XF just create the AI, and someone repurposed it for thre killing game?

Also what are these defaults going to be?

…Wait whose voice is this? Someone we know? Please tell me I’m bad at recognizing voices! {I think it’s still MonoTV’s VA, just doing a different act, but I’m not sure}

[MonoTV speech] Didn’t expect MonoTV of all damn characters to have a badass moment, but I guess this is the world we live in now.

“But there is no reason to punish Ace a second time.” UHHH Chat are we cooked?

The death of every participant? This is about rule 14, right? “All murderers must be held accountable”? The “everyone is responsible for Mai’s death and must be punished” theory seems to be gaining ground.

It’s also saying this is why it was created, so XF likely did have a direct hand in the killing game. Min MM not looking so implausible all of the sudden.

“I will pass the punishment…” chat we’re actually immensely cooked what.

“I will now proceed with the execution of Teruko Tawaki.” UHHH LUCK BETTER COME IN CLUTCH!!!

[Machine Gun] BRO?!?!?!

Charles: “That thing will surely kill you!” Even Charles is sounding extremely distressed here, damn! But I guess Teruko is relying on her luck maybe?

Whit: “Charles! Stop talking and cover your eyes!” I mean yeah good advice but you know- More pressing things atm

Teruko: “No :)” Why’s she so silly coded?

Teruko: “Killed? I doubt it. As if something so kind could happen to me.” AAAAAAH!!!! The suicidal tendencies return with a vengeance!!!

[Her speech] Holy fuck holy fuck this is crazy she’s actually doing the unhinged Lucky Student thing of relying on luck she’s going in I’m so terrified for what’s about to happen.

“I’ll show you all what it means to be the Ultimate Lucky Student.” Shit boutta go crazy.

[LEVI DOES THE THING] OF FUCKING COURSE!

Bro I was not ready for this. I wasn’t ready in the slightest. This motherfucker better survive against all odds or it’s all over.

Bro that sprite- He’s so cooked.

MonoTV: “His injuries are not fatal” Wait are we saved? Arturo look I know you’re not a doctor but for the love of God tell me you can do something about this holy shit. I wasn’t ready for this.

VERONIKA. Holy shit she’s actually insane.

Arturo: “He could live…” Please??? For me???

Wait now that I’m thinking about it. He hasn’t said his secret quote. We might be saved.

[Whit sprite] … Huh??? Bro what the fuck is happening this episode.

Ace: “Execute me right now!” Ough this shit insane!!! I can’t- I genuinely can’t react. I’m just overcome with emotion at this point.

“I’ll have a third death in my hands!” … Wait the math. Unless he’s counting himself… does he blame himself for Taylor’s death???

[The entire Arturo - Ace debacle] I…holy shit???? The genuine distress in Arturo’s voice when he says he can’t save Levi??? Ace clinging to the hope that he can??? Bro what the fuck??? This is insane???? I can’t- I can’t compute- This is actually insane. This is so much. Levi better not fucking die after this I swear to god-

Ace: “I don’t want to die…” Holy shit dev did it. I’m feeling just as bad for Ace as I felt for Min. Bra-fucking-vo. Holy fuck. No words.

[Thanatophobia]

(Fear of death right? Fits)

… Okay, so. I know someone brought up this term in relation to Ace. Genius, first.

Second, that might just be one of the greatest executions I’ve even seen, if not the best. I usually don’t care much about how good executions are, but this… this is incredibly good. The music was banging. The execution method was unique. It wasn’t related to his talent, but his character, which makes it better imo.

(Also are the “unexplained illnesses” related to Xander’s family?)

And even through all this… dev showed the corpse. When they didn’t show Min’s. Why would you allow me to cope even further? You drop XF and show a corpse- holy shit. I just can’t even process anything.

And he didn’t say his quote. He never said it I don’t think. Levi better survive.

VERONIKA. Holy shit she’s actually getting more and more unhinged by the second the hell-? Yeah remember when she looked unnerved by Min’s execution?!?! She ain’t looking unnerved no more!

Hu: “The elevator is open!” We’re just- gonna ignore- Alright, I guess it’s fair. Surely Levi survives right?

Rose please tell me you looked away. I know you saw Levi so it’s not looking great either way, but still.

Teruko: “Go on without me.” Is she going to talk to David maybe? About the secret?

“Everyone was gone.” Alright no, she’s just going to mourn or something?

[Teruko reflects on her similarities to Ace and Arei] I really like this moment, it’s nice of her to say what the audience was probably already thinking.

MonoTV: “I must convince everyone that I’m the villain.” And what does this mean MonoTV? Genuinely too burnt out to think about it any harder rn.

MonoTV: “That is the fate that I have, to make others suffer.” HOW ARE WE TYING MONO FUCKING TV TO THE THEME OF FATE?!?!?!WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE HAVE TO TALK ABOUT FUCKING “TERUKO-MONOTV PARALLELS” WHAT THE FUCK?! DEV YOU SON OF A BITCH YOU DID IT AGAIN!!! /positive

[Teruko breaks down] Holy hell…

“I had known the answer…” AUGH- The character writing… it’s so good… fucking hell this is incredible…

Where do we even go from here? Teruko’s speed running the themes of trust and fate like they’re not the main themes of the series?!?! I’m going crazy.

… Are we seriously leaving it on a cliffhanger whether Levi is alive or not? Like, I know the “surviving students” thing counted him, so I’m guessing he’s alive, but… hot damn. This is an evil cliffhanger.

(Also I find it funny that David’s silhouette sprite did in fact change to what the dev said was his new default lol)

“Seems there’s something he’s not proud of” The nailbiting right.

-

General Thoughts

…

…

…

…

Bro how the fuck am I expected to even begin to summarize this shit?!?!

Okay, in… ascending order of crazy.

Did David just… not speak almost the entire episode? Did he even have any lines when Teruko was being executed? The fuck is going on with him? He didn’t even reveal Teruko’s secret???

Veronika was unhinged. Loved that for her. Hope she gets worse, it seems like CH3 will be a fun chapter for her (I hope that doesn’t mean she dies).

Whit officially gets his very own unhinged/breakdown sprite! We’ve completed the set! I mean, it’s not as crazy as others, but it matches Rose’s so…

Everyone endures further trauma, fun.

I even feel bad for Arturo! Poor guy did not ask for this shit! There’s fun foils here with Levi trying to protect the group as much as he can and Arturo being forced into the role…

Also. Of all ships. I did not expect Aceturo to get a dub here somehow.

I somehow called more or less predicted what Teruko was gonna do. Fun how that happened. And her little character reflection at the end was awesome, I loved it very much. Jesus fuck.

That’s gotta be the best execution I’ve ever seen, hands down. I don’t care that there wasn’t a single horse there. This is much better.

Also, no secret quote from Ace. So those are 100% not a good metric for defining who is at risk of death. Wonder if that means we’ll get a flashback with him?

XF-Ture Tech?!?!?! MonoTV character building kinda?!?!?!?! I’m going crazy?!?!?!

Levi??? This motherfucker better be alive. There’s no reason he should be dead, so I’m gonna assume he’s alive. But wow… I guess weightedblankettt was sorta right on the “final orbit” interpretation of Levi’s connection to Shoemaker-Levy 9, just… not in a way we expected. (If that meant nothing to you don’t worry about it).

And Ace… Hot damn. Just… an entire character arc at the eleventh minute, huh? How’s that for the people who were saying Ace wouldn’t be remembered, huh? Levi probably owes him his life, in a way. He broke MonoTV. He faced his thanatophobia to try to help Levi survive. Just… so fucking good. I said it in the reaction. I genuinely felt just as much grief for him as I did Min. And coming from me, that’s… a lot. Just incredible writing and voice acting and everything in between…

This cements it, btw. This is my favorite trial from anything DR related ever. It’s genuinely insane. I am going to make a more detailed, more coherent post analyzing the entirety of Part 2 of this chapter, because it deserves it. It deserves more thought than I’m able to give right now on account of feeling too many emotions. Stay tuned for that, I guess.

Props to the dev, the VAs, and anyone who might have laid a hand on this at some point. It’s genuinely incredible, this is an unforgettable experience. Holy shit.

I don’t- I don’t have the emotional energy to keep writing. Just… I think I need to calm down for a few hours. Genuinely loved every second of this. Thanks for reading, and see you when I gather my thoughts enough to trust myself to be coherent.

[joelsbloodyhands]

Mine

Din Djarin x Reader, The Mandalorian x Reader

Summary: Your employer is pissed when you come back from getting information about a bounty with a bruised hand mark around your neck.

A/N: I kinda just wrote this one because I had a vague idea and ran with it. I think everyone is going to learn very quickly in my writing that clearly jealous/overprotective Din is my fave version of him 🙈

Warnings: reader gets choked and not in the nice way (only talks about it), overprotective Din, Din is your employer but clearly wants to be more, death and m!rder (all in the name of love) 🤗, mentions of blood and bodily harm, mentions of slave traders, fluff with a little bit of spice✨, soft!Din but also a little bit reckless!Din 👀 smut references but not written too explicitly but still MINORS DNI, business associates to lovers arc? 😅 not set at any particular point during the series.

READER does not have a specified gender, they/them pronouns used. Reader does not have a visible disability.

You’d been gone too long and Din was getting anxious.

This hadn’t been his original plan.

The contact for information regarding the bounty had unfortunately been highlighted as a previous foe of his. He’d busted them prior when their bounty puck had fell in his lap over a cycle ago.

Trust Karga to let the man redeem himself by providing intel on high-level bounties with the incentive of remaining out of the hands of the Rebellion that for some reason unbeknownst to Din, wanted his head on a stick.

Why had Din let you go and barter for the information again?

“He won’t suspect me to be a threat.”

Oh right, yeah. That’s what you said.

Except Din was probably worrying about the wrong thing because the biggest threat would be the ex-criminal you were meeting with at Mos Espa Cantina.

“Go say hi to Boba for me. Get the boy fed and I’ll be back soon.”

Din was losing his edge.

On what kriffin planet did he give in to such a request?

You were in danger and he knew it.

He knew it and he still sat in the markets with Grogu, twirling wupiupi coins in his fingers for the past half hour while his son slurped another bowl of pog soup.

Why?

Well, that was easy.

Since the past year you had been travelling with him, Din had grown to have affections for you.

To start he kept you at arms length.

Brief answers to your curious questions turned into nightly talks between your bunks. Subtle touches to guide you through busy and sometimes treacherous places turned into lingering holds in his grasp, fear of losing you to the crowds. He found himself watching you far longer than he ever had before and during times when he didn’t necessarily need to. The sound of you using the fresher while he tucked in his little green son had his heart pounding and a certain area of his armor feeling a little bit too uncomfortable.

He grew more and more protective the further you strayed without him.

He no longer wished for you to venture into dens alone to ask for information on his behalf but he couldn’t deny that you were good at it.

Better than him.

You were calm and collected.

You had a level head.

Something that he could very easily lose control over should Grogu and yourself be threatened by a contact. Though it was the one thing you had learned you could assert yourself over since Din’s change of heart.

You had a job that needed to be done and you were the best person for it.

So Din caved far quicker than he normally would with allowing you to go the cantinas and talk about bounties, pay and information. It sped up the process for Din to track them and also meant he didn’t have to deal with the unwanted chit chat that came with meeting up with Karga.

Something you enjoyed. Something that had Din’s palms itching whenever Karga took your hand to help you stand from the booth, Din’s clenched fist aching to wipe the smug look of his face when he turned back in his direction.

“I like her, Mando. She’s good at getting what she wants.”

He knew you were.

Din wasn’t sure if he was included on the list of things you wanted but you sure as hell were on his.

There was times he had a inkling.

Especially when he was feeding the kid and he caught you looking away when his eyes found you scraping away at your lunch.

Times when you would grab his hand without hesitation and pull him through midnight markets towards the sights of fireworks. Din’s heart warming at the wide smile plastered across your face, the powdery shades of red, blue and green lighting up in your eyes from the sky.

Damn, he was down bad and he had no idea what to do about it.

Technically, he was your employer.

Juggling Grogu and his job was a difficulty. Most of the time he was happy to venture out with Grogu in his carrier or pod but his bounties got, let’s say, brave in their efforts to deter him. Going so far as to aim shots towards the child. They learned his weakness and Din hated it.

So with much reluctance to start, he asked Peli if she would be interested in babysitting him for a price but of course she refused; even with the money on the table.

“Not a chance but I know just the person for the job.”

He had slid the money off the table and walked back to the ship without another word until she scrambled after him.

“Hey, hey, hey! Just hear me out, okay?” Din had sighed, turning back to her from the top of the ramp while she stood hands on her hips and a smile growing. “There’s this kid that needs a job. Call ‘em a distant relative, if you will. They’re desperate. Need money, board, food, water and they’ll make sure your little boy is taken good care of. I swear!”

“Have they taken care of children before?” Din asked inquisitively but also with a half mind to ignore Peli completely and close the ramp in response to her proposal.

“Yeah! Loads of times! They’re a professional!”

Din doubted that very much. He knew Peli’s tactics for selling him an offer and he couldn’t deny that she was good at it.

Fine, he’ll bite. Again.

“Call them.”

He just remembers Peli’s grin, your soft voice on the end of a comlink and then a speeder sounding just outside.

She had presented you to him like a rare gift and he was less than happy to receive you at the time but more than a few rotations later, you had thrown yourself in front of a bounty that had tried to commandeer his ship, their blaster aimed for Grogu in his bunk, taking a graze to the side before Din shot him dead.

You were willing to die to protect his son.

That was more than he could’ve ever asked for.

Later when Din was back at the Crest, you returned.

He had spent the past hours pacing up and down the ramp like a mad man.

Originally, he had planned to detour from the markets with Grogu over to the cantina but you had used your comlink to tell him you were already near the ship.

That was interesting because Din got back to the ship and you weren’t even here.

Which begs the question, why did you lie that you were already nearby?

Maybe he was being paranoid. His fists clenching and unclenching repeatedly, stressing about your whereabouts and the obvious reason as to why he was so stressed to begin with.

So when he’d heard your footsteps up the ramp, your voice calling for Grogu, you were both surprised to see the other staring back.

“Where have you been?” Din questioned gently but you sensed an underlining annoyance to his tone.

“I detoured, sorry,” you sheepishly smiled, holding up a bag of frog meat. “I saw a vendor selling this and I knew Grogu would be happy about it. Not to mention,” you brush past him, eyes focused solely on the sleeping child snuggling into his hammock on Din’s bunk, “it would be nice to see him not eat a whole frog for once.”

You laugh and it eases Din.

Of course he was just being paranoid.

“And the contact?” He says and you remain with your back to him, reaching your hand in carefully to tug the blanket over Grogu’s body. “He give us what we need?”

“He did,” you respond and Din satisfied, presses the button to bring up the ramp and close the hatch. The sound of it whirring so loud, in need of some oiling so much so that you had probably thought he missed your quiet words.

“What was that?” His helmet turns your way when the hatch closes with a loud creak.

“I said, somewhat.”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t being paranoid after all.

Din feels his nerves wash over him, noticing how you’re not even turning around as you address him. He takes you in. You don’t seem discomforted, angry or emotional. You’re incredibly calm.

Though that was worrying.

Normally, you came back from having debriefs with the informants with a story to tell.

“It was quite scary actually. They had this wookie with them but then you’ll never believe this guy! Stood there, blaster in hand, immense glare in his face, goes and shoves a fist in his satchel, I’m ready to throw hands and I shit you not, Din…wookie pulls out a cookie and starts crunching away at it!”

“Have you ever met a Gungan, Din? I think they’re my favourite people I’ve ever met. I mean they were all like, yousa follow us now, okeyday? Seriously! Oh gooberfish! I love them!”

“What do you mean by somewhat?”

You sigh.

This wasn’t good.

“I’m sorry, Din. They gave us the last location. I think that’s the most important thing.”

“What about if they’re solo or run with a crew? We need to know what we’re walking into, otherwise we could get bombarded the moment we land.”

This wasn’t a simple bounty. This guy was one of the worst out there.

A slave trader.

It angered Din to even think about it.

“Something happened,” he doesn’t let you tip-toe around the subject. “What are you not telling me?”

You fall silent and that’s enough for him.

Something did happen and what’s worse, you don’t want to tell him.

He moves towards you and you turn on your heel, ready to protest. Din had only meant to just embrace your shoulder gently to ease you into a conversation he thought you needed to have but the slightest wince had him drawing back almost immediately.

With his steps halted in front of you, the air cold, the crest filled with silence, Din’s visor drops instinctively to your neck.

Was it getting cool? Sure, when it was getting late. Though right now, it was still early afternoon and you never wore a scarf in Mos Espa outside the settlement and in the dunes.

“Did he touch you?”

Din has to bite back the growl threatening to crackle through his modulator.

Your head drops, eyes on the floor and the look of regret on your features make Din pray to the Maker that he’ll kill the man just for the expression on your face.

Then you unravel the scarf and Din wastes no time.

His hand had pulled your collar back gently, his shoulders stiffening at the purpled marks there.

You grimaced before trying for a smile but he sees the way your eyes plead with his, “Before you ask, it looks worse than it feels. I’m fine, Din. Let’s just go.”

He remembers you calling his name after that.

Only once because you knew as you watched him brush past you, grabbing two vibroblades from his armoury and charging down the steps towards the town, that there was nothing you could say to stop him.

And you were right because less than five minutes later, Din’s blades were impaled on the informants hands, stapling him indefinitely to the table at the cantina while onlookers ran completely, hid or dropped their heads from his view.

Then his gloved hands were on his throat, squeezing the life out of him.

An eye for an eye.

You hadn’t explained why the man had strangled you and it was pointless anyway.

He had no right to touch you.

To hell with Karga.

He’d lose an informant but that informant chose to fuck with what was his and that was worth more than any information.

When Din felt the life leave him, he dropped a number of credits to the table, looked up at the barman and walked away. His last words being, “you can keep those,” shrugging his shoulder towards the blades on the way out.

Now back at the ship, you sit rigidly on the bunk while Din gently swipes a lotion of bacta over your wound with a cotton wipe.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.”

Your eyes flicker to his visor and you know he’s evading your gaze.

You sigh and for a moment, he think you’re not going to reply until your hands gently take his, stopping him from tending to you.

He lifts his visor then, meeting your concerned eyes, your fingers intertwined with his on your lap.

“I can handle myself. You know that, right?”

Oh. So that’s what this was?

You were worried he thought you incompetent to end up in this circumstance?

Of course you would think that. He’s your employer. You only want to deliver good work for him.

That’s not all this is anymore though and Din can’t pretend and let you go on feeling like a failure especially with the tears dancing on your waterlines.

“You are very capable, mesh’la but-“ Din sighs.

How can he even begin to explain to you that he’s more angry at himself for not protecting you like he’s supposed to?

Kriff, you’re not even a bounty hunter. Trained to use a blaster as a novice, he noticed how you flinched whenever you’ve had to pull the trigger on his behalf. You’re at your calmest when you’re rocking the small boy before bed, singing lullabies to him in a hushed tone probably so Din couldn’t hear. You had no idea that he stood just above the ladder to the cockpit and listened.

You were ethereal and he couldn’t get enough of you.

That’s why it made his hands shake to even think that anyone would harm you.

He’s so caught up in his own thoughts, he misses the way your eyes widen at the term of endearment he let slip and the quick gesture as you shake yourself from how affected you are by it.

“I just…” you break through his racing thoughts, his eyes latching onto your dipped chin, eyes shadowed in the corner of the docking port, just outside his bunk. You look solemn but rather than feel dread, Din’s heart stills when he notices the flush of pink across your features.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you were nervous.

“I just want to be able to do more for you.”

The words play on a loop, almost like they’re colliding against the inside of Din’s helmet, repeatedly soaring through his ears again and again.

“I want to be more useful for you. Ya know?”

Useful? You think you’re not already useful?

“Sometimes I just feel like I have more to offer. I know you brought me in to be a babysitter but I can be more than that. For you.”

Was the carbonite freezing system failing or was it getting hotter in the crest?

Din felt like he needed to tug the shroud off from around his neck. The air was suffocating.

“Please say something?” Your small voice says quietly.

“You are more to me than you will ever understand, cya’rika.”

Your eyes meet his then.

Well, his visor at least and Din curses his creed for having him hide his face at a time when he wants- no needs you to see how much he means what he says.

You’re silent but the increasing rouge of your cheeks is enough to see that you understand him and that perhaps there was some truth in his suspicions.

You felt for him just as much as he felt for you.

“Din…”

And just like that, his eyes roll back momentarily hearing his name leave your tongue like a pleading prayer.

He couldn’t pretend like you weren’t affecting him too.

He needed you to know.

“Get in the bunk, ner kar’ta.”

Your body stills a moment in surprise and you don’t move.

Maybe he misjudged or maybe he’s being too forward but then you stand and without taking your eyes away from him, you seat yourself on the side of his bunk.

Waiting for him.

Waiting for further instruction just like you’ve been doing ever since you walked onto his ship.

One thing he realised he misjudged.

All those times you obeyed every command, it was never out of the need for his money.

You never questioned him, never refused an order but with Din and the matter of Grogu’s safety, it was never a request and that’s all it was to start.

It was just a matter of his sons safety until he realised he loved you too.

Din stands and steps in front of you, you look up at him as he tugs the shroud from around his neck loose.

He notices how your eyes drop to his waist, evading the reveal of his tanned skin while you’re positioned below him. He wraps the material a couple of times before placing the fabric over your eyes.

You don’t move.

You don’t flinch.

You just allow him to remove one of your senses, leaving nothing but darkness over your sight. His heart aches at the trust you have in him, allowing him to render you vulnerable before him.

He ties it behind your head, making sure it’s not too tight as to hurt you.

He’s not the same type of man as the monster from earlier today.

His fingers itch at the memory and he shrugs his gloves off, setting his bare fingers against the cold metal of his helmet.

You await patiently and he watches as you jerk your head slightly at the familiar sound of his helmet releasing.

The sound you’ve only ever heard from a nearby room, hiding away from him when you brought him supper.

You await patiently while Din removes each piece of armor, setting it aside.

Then there’s just silence.

Until you hear his knees hit the ground in front of you and a warm breath hits your neck, a shudder running up your spine.

“Is it okay if I show you something?”

His whispers hit your ear drum in the most delightful way.

You nod dreamily.

Then you feel rough, warm lips graze your neck.

If heaven was travelling at light-speed through space, it was right here and now with Din’s lips travelling along your jawline, mapping out the path to seal against your lips. He tugs gently, coaxing you out of the shy shell you had created when you realised the butterflies he made you feel when you first met had more to do with how attracted you were to him than to how intimidating most people found him.

Every step he took on each planet you travelled, Din carried a powerful aura that most people cowered away from but it only drew you to him more.

You knew Din was strong.

You knew not many could beat him in a fight, yourself included but that was the whole point.

Din would never abuse his strength over you.

Ever.

Though, you wish he would, in special circumstances.

Like right now.

“How do you feel, cya’re?” Din inquires breathlessly, lips pressing soft kisses down your throat while you bite back the urge to be vocal.

“I wish we’d done this sooner,” you say uneasily, your hands gripping the bunk below you.

Din’s chuckle hits your ear, reverberating against your ear drum exquistively.

“Din?” He hears your voice rattle with every nestle of his lips stroking over your skin.

“Yes, mesh’la?” He raises his head, lips brushing the underside of your jaw, watching your lips turn up into a small smirk. Though you couldn’t see his expression returning yours, his adoring smile awaited your next words patiently.

“You killed him, didn’t you?”

You feel a thumb smooth over your bottom lip.

“He deserved it,” you shake your head slightly, fighting away an amused smile on your lips that he quickly wipes away, replacing with an expression of longing when his lips meet your ear.

“You’re mine.”

[lookingfts]

If you're in the mood for some fluffy fluff...? Married or dating, or in the enemies to lover phase, tripped ankle or concussion, forced proximity and having to provide TLC?

Also fulfilling another prompt I got a while ago about how Kate would handle Anthony getting into an accident! Enjoy.

Kate’s heart was pounding in her chest as she pulled up to the entrance. Anthony was already standing there with a nurse by his side, his arm in a splint, looking exhausted and a little disheveled. She threw her car into park and stepped out.

“He couldn’t get out of here fast enough,” the nurse said with a smirk. “Here are the care instructions. You can call us if you have any questions.”

Kate took the thick packet, opening the side door and letting the nurse help him into the passenger seat. It was slow going, Anthony wincing at every small movement, but finally he slumped against the seat.

The nurse helped him into his seatbelt, making an apologetic noise as he hissed. “We’ll see you in a few days, Anthony. Take care of yourself.”

He was entirely silent as Kate got back into the car and pulled out onto the road, heading in the direction of his flat. It was almost midnight, no traffic in sight, but Kate drove cautiously anyway, not wanting to risk slamming on the brakes and injuring him further.

“You didn’t call your mum? Or Ben?”

Anthony let out a rough sigh, rubbing his good hand over his face. “I’ll call them tomorrow, I’m just…I’m too tired for it right now. Besides, I’ll need some help and you’ve seen me naked much more recently than they have.”

She might have chuckled at that, if she wasn’t so fucking tense. Kate had been coiled tight since the second he called, and despite her attempts at deep breathing, nothing was quite succeeding in helping her unwind.

It wasn’t an entirely satisfying reason for why he had called her. She was Anthony’s friend on a good day, maybe, but she was more of a situationship than anything. Unbelievable late-night hookups that none of their friends or family knew about – or at least, she didn’t think they knew. Not that there was much to know. Anthony gave her explosive, leg-shaking orgasms and she left in the morning and they didn’t discuss it much beyond that. There was nothing to talk about.

At any rate, she didn’t think they were at picking each other up from the hospital status.

She entered the code to his front door and Anthony seemed to relax a bit at the familiar surroundings of his flat. Kate already had a few clothes and toiletries lying around; it wouldn’t be a hardship to stay the night. In the morning, he would tell his family, and they could suffocate him with their particular brand of care.

Anthony stilled at the bottom of the stairs. His bedroom was on the upper level, along with two guest rooms, so it was a necessary evil. “Sorry,” she said. “I know it’s going to be uncomfortable. I’ve got you.”

Huffing out a breath through his nose, he grabbed the banister and carefully made his way up the stairs. Her heart twisted a little every time he inhaled sharply and shut his eyes, waiting for the wave of pain to pass. Finally, they were at the landing and his shoulders slumped in relief.

Once they were in his room – truly a ridiculous suite, in her opinion, though the bed was spectacular – Kate slowly helped him undress and change into a pair of sweatpants. “How did you break your arm?” she asked finally. He hadn’t said a word about it.

“I tripped down the stairs,” he admitted, gritting his teeth as he stepped into one of the legs, then the other. “I just…wasn’t paying attention, honestly. I looked at my phone and I missed a step and I just…yeah.”

The knot in her chest grew tighter, compressed by something that felt a little like panic. She couldn’t account for why she had been so sour since he called, but maybe it was starting to take shape now. Flashes filled her mind, too quick to process – Anthony with a head injury, Anthony under a sheet. They both knew how one moment could mean life and death. How one moment could break everyone who had loved that person.

Once he was situated, Kate opened the drawer and took out one of her pajama sets. Her hands were trembling, and she felt dizzy. She just couldn’t turn off the awful noise in her head – what if what if what if.

“You should rest,” she said, not missing the furrow of his brows at her terse tone. “I can sleep in the guest room, just call me if you need anything.”

Anthony didn’t respond for a moment, and she turned to leave. “Kate,” he said to her back, sounding so weary. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to pick me up. I clearly overstepped.”

An embarrassing heat pricked at her eyes. She had kept it together, focused on the singular goal of making sure that he was alright. And now that he was…her head was a mess. A confusing jumble of anger and fear and gratitude that he was still there, with her, and she couldn’t articulate any of it. Because she was just some girl he fucked sometimes, so why should she care this much?

“You were so reckless,” she spit. That was easier. To fight and claw and rage like they had always done, months before she was ever in his bed. “You can’t do that shit, Anthony. Your family – did you even think about your family? Your mum? Ben? Hyacinth? Did you even think, for one second, what it would do to them if something serious happened to you?”

There was an excruciating silence. She could hear the tears in her voice, the desperation. Could hear the confession between the lines that she had never meant to give. If Anthony hadn’t suspected anything before, he would be a fool not to know now.

His hand landed gently on her waist, and Anthony tugged her against him, careful to avoid his injured side. He was still probably bruised elsewhere, so Kate went gingerly, burying her face in his neck. “I’m sorry,” Anthony murmured. But it was his heartbeat, calm and steady under her hand, that helped her breathe. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ll be more careful.”

“We’re not talking about me,” she said unconvincingly. As if her rebellious tears weren’t landing on his bare shoulder, as if she wasn’t making herself small in his arms and letting him surround her.

“Okay,” he acquiesced. They stood like that for a long time, Anthony’s fingers sliding up her back to stroke her curls. Repetitive motions until the haunting melody in her mind stopped.

He was alive. The moment had come and gone, and he was still there.

Kate lifted her head, wiping her face with the heel of her palm. His hand landed on the side of her neck, half cupping her jaw, his face earnest and concerned.

Anthony swallowed. “If anything happened to you…” he said, raw and aching, like she was pulling some admission from the deepest parts of him. “It would destroy me.”

She blinked at him, the words slowly settling over her. Maybe there was something to talk about, after all.

But not tonight. Anthony was swaying on his feet, and Kate found herself exhausted by the day, too. “Stay with me,” he urged, stroking her cheek. “Please.”

Kate nodded and ushered him to bed, helping him find a comfortable position on the mattress before curling up beside him. Letting his rhythmic breathing and the warmth of his hand around hers lull her to sleep.

Everything else could wait.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

I would like to ask for part 3 of nightmare in Toronto

*ahem*

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE

Ask and ye shall receive!

Knightmare In Toronto

Chapter 3: Meet The Neighbors, They Said!

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The kitchen was abuzz with activity. 

As it turned out, everyone was hungry, with Wind offering to help within a millisecond of you popping the question. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you folded in the face of those baby blues staring up at you, averting your eyes as you contemplated how one child could be so damn adorable, eventually settling on marching to the kitchen and declaring that anyone who wanted to help was welcome to it, a cheerful Wind at your heels. 

It was only when you bent to retrieve the only pot you owned that Wild made his presence known, asking quietly if there were any ingredients you needed. You informed him that you had gone to the supermarket earlier, which elicited a strange look from the blonde, but you were too focused on keeping Wind from waving the knives like toys and retrieving your cookbook from the depths of the top cabinet to care. 

“Okay,” you blew the dust off the cookbook. Wind oooed and Wild sneezed, to which you issued a dry “bless you,” and flipped to the correct page. Green Bean Soup had been one of your favorite recipes when you were a child, so you didn’t see any reason not to make it for them. “I’m going to assume none of you know what a stove is?”

Their blank stares confirmed everything. With a labored sigh and quick massage to your aching temples, you tossed the cookbook on the counter, rolled up your sleeves, cracked your knuckles awesomely, and intoned: “Let’s fix that.”

Within ten minutes, you had a large soup boiling atop the stove, all thanks to Wind’s chopping abilities and Wild’s tendency to produce ingredients from his pants pockets, which you were beginning to suspect doubled as a gateway to a black hole when you caught him trying to pull what appeared to be an entire ladle from the thing. He continued to surprise you when a small vial of red powder—Goron Spice, he called it, which was both terrifying and intriguing—made its way onto the mix, while Wind flitted around the area to simultaneously snoop and ask a million questions. 

Despite the chaos, there was something inherently refreshing about being in the presence of others. You rarely received visitors, and it was nice to laugh along with Wind’s antics or Wild’s cleverly-placed quips. The soup also smelled delicious, which did not favors for your initial distrust; if they wanted to hurt me, they would have done it sooner, you reasoned, watching Wild stir the liquid—a vibrant carmine that looked just as good as it smelled, with tender veggies gliding at the surface with each flick of the ladle—as it bubbled and hissed. 

"You're pretty good at this," you said as Wild scraped the last of the chicken—the meat of choice—into the pot, already blooming with delicious, fragrant steam. "Who taught you?"

“I did,” the man’s response was swift and to the point, but only a fool would miss the soft smile in his eyes… until it turned sour and he glanced down at the soup. “At least, I think I did,” his expression darkened further. “My memories… they’re not all there.”

You nodded sympathetically as he stirred the soup, lost in thought, reaching over to tap more spice into the pot. Wild’s grin was quick, and his motions grew quicker to incorporate the powder. Wind, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, pipped up from his perched position on the counter. “That’s okay, Wild! You’re the best cook I know!”

“Thanks, sailor,” Wild’s mouth quirked up even more, and you stepped over to the dishes cabinet to give them some privacy, feeling a bit out of place. You were curious, sure, but it wasn’t your place to ask. Opening the door, you groaned, drawing both boys’ gazes. 

“Oh, for the love of—”

“What’s wrong?” Wind hopped off the counter to sidle up beside you, neck craned as he assessed the situation. 

You gestured to the nearly-empty cabinet housing your meager dining possessions: four plates, two bowls, three glass cups of varying size, a chipped mug with Grumpy Cat’s frowning face plastered to the visible side of it, and the Paw Patrol sippy cup you discovered between your couch’s cushions a year into owning it. 

Wind patted your forearm with a grin. “That’s okay! We have our own bowls,” and, just to assuage your fears, he reached into his satchel and produced a small wooden bowl, complete with a set of carved silverware and a small cup. “See?”

“That’s what eyes are for, Wind,” came Four’s voice from the living room, but there was no real heat behind his words. You had to hold back a chuckle at the younger boy’s exasperated expression, and excused yourself to the hallway when he turned to look at you with a ‘did you just hear that?’ expression. 

Once in the hallway, you made a b-line for the hallway closet, retrieving all the blankets you had, which was a startlingly large number considering you lived alone. You threw the ones that wouldn’t fit around your shoulder, then padded down to the guest room. It had been just your luck that the house had come with such a large room, nearly twice as big as your own. Until now, you had been using it as a makeshift quiet space, complete with a heavenly beanbag that you were only slightly embarrassed to admit you used more than your own bed.

You nudged the door open with your foot, immediately tossed the blankets on the beanbag when Wild’s call of “Stew’s done!” rang through the house. Scrambling back to the kitchen, you snagged a bowl and joined the already forming line, sandwiched between Twilight and Wind, their bowls at the ready. 

After getting your food, you walked to the living room and flopped down on the couch–there was no way in hell your tiny dining table was going to fit everyone. 

"May I join you?” Four materialized at your side, the steam from his bowl slightly obscuring his face. You nodded and he plopped himself down on the couch next to you. A beat passed, only broken by a sigh. "I'm sorry for scaring you, it wasn't right of me."

“You’re fine,” you spooned some soup and blew on it, glancing at him as the tips of your mouth curved up in a cheeky grin. “I would have screamed too, scared cat."

His gaze snapped to you. “Excuse me?”

You held up your free hand in surrender. “Joking, joking!”

Four rolled his eyes and you could have sworn the typically blue edges flashed a starling shade of purple for a split second. “You better be,” he said through a mouthful of soup, and you were glad there were no hard feelings. 

"What's this?" Came Wild's curious voice. He had taken up residence on the carpet, stew set aside in favor of examining your television, running his fingers across the smooth surface.

“It's called a television,” you reached for the remote. "Watch this!"

The TV crackled to life when you pressed the power button, not considering how someone new to your world might react to this technology of the future. As expected, Wild threw himself back with a shout as the latest episode of Family Feud filled the screen with an obnoxious blare, then swiftly brandished his sword in the wake of this new foe. Four also went ramrod straight and retrieved his own sword, nearly dropping his stew in the chaos. You screamed for them to stop, but it was for naught when a Call Of Duty ad joined the commercial sequence. Wild yelled in shock, thrusting his blade into the center of the television. 

ZZZZCHH!

Orange sparks exploded around the weapon, and Wild’s body shook as he was undoubtedly electrocuted, hair going every which way in a manner that would have been hilarious in any other situation. Amidst the insanity, Four attempted to pull Wild from the sparking television, only to receive what you could only assume was a very nasty shock. Twilight, Wind, and the tallest guy joined the fray just as the lights began to flicker, their barking voices melding into a cacophony of craziness.

"What in Hylia?!" Someone cried, though you didn't recognize their voice. Glancing up, you met the purple eyes of an even more ridiculously-dressed stranger. His hair was what could only be described as a warm strawberry blonde and, if that wasn't enough, he appeared to be wearing a red tunic over a long green dress with... where the fuck were his pants?

"Put some pants on, whore!" You screeched, half delirious with terror, just as there was a loud crash and Wild flew across the room, landing squarely against the family photos hanging on your wall with a stuttered oof. Your tone spiked with outrage as you beheld the current madness. "What the hell?!"

“Wild!” Wind rushed to Wild’s side, shaking his shoulder. He looked up at you, the beginnings of tears blooming in his adorable little eyes. You felt your anger slip like sand through clenched fingers, slowly stepping up to Wild’s prone form, pressing your fore and middle fingers to the side of his neck, probing the arteries below for a pulse. It was at that moment that you truly noticed the scars marring the side of his neck, long enough that they simultaneously dipped down beneath his shirt and stretched up to the base of his elongated ear. “...Is he dead?”

“I…” The silence was somber as you searched harder… only for Wild to cough and swat at your hand, eyes gazing blearily at the ceiling. 

“Hylia, it’s like fighting wizzrobes all over again…”

What? 

Despite the fact that half those words made no sense at all, you released the breath you’d been holding. You drew yourself up, still dazed by the fact that that had just happened, you brushed past a startled Twilight and blank-faced tall man, calling over your shoulder: “Someone get him on the couch–I’ll get water.”

“‘M fine,” you heard Wild murmur from the other room, followed by soft scuffling noises. You grabbed the sippy cup from the cabinet and filled it with water, returning just in time to witness Four heave the taller man by his armpits onto your couch. Impressive, was your first thought, followed by: I don’t want to imagine the overtime, when you passed the crackling television, still impaled on the massive sword. It was a fucking miracle your house hadn’t caught on fire in the chaos. 

“Here,“ you handed the cup to Wild, who took it with a baffled expression, though it didn’t stop him from dutifully chugging the thing. “...Dare I ask why you stabbed my television?”

“That’s a fancy term for a mimic,” the pantless stranger snapped, mirroring your posture. You instantly stood straighter, ready to square up if needed. The stranger snorted at your half-glare, expression darkening suspiciously as he scanned your home. “Where are we?”

You tried not to look at the sword attached to his belt, crossing your arms over your chest and slightly cocking your left hip in a manner that you hoped conveyed the seriousness of the situation. “My house.”

The newcomer blinked, and Wind stepped in, excitement regained. “This is Legend, he’s with us–”

“Uh huh,” you muttered under your breath. 

“–and this is (Y/n), we’re staying with them until everyone else gets here.”

You felt your expression soften–Wind was a cute kid–and it was only mildly difficult to manage a short wave; you definitely weren’t here to make enemies out of any of them. 

“Sup.”

Bafflement swept across Legend’s face as Wind mouthed the word to himself, though neither of them had a chance to reply when a heavy series of knocks came down on your front door. For a moment, you froze, feeling like you had just been caught red-handed, but quickly flew into action when Legend stiffened, hand falling on the hilt of his sword. “Put that away,” you hissed as the barest glint of steel flashed in your field of vision, fearlessly batting his hand down and rushing over to the door with a hurried “stay right there” to the gaggle of men in your living room. 

“Hiiii, Cindy,” you said as soon as you cracked the door open, praying to whatever deity you could that she wasn’t here to bitch about how your petunias interfered with the HOA guidelines. “What can I do for you on this,” you were going to say ‘fine day’, but that felt a tad too cheery for the insanity that had occurred in your living room alone. “...acceptable afternoon?”

“Finally,” your neighbor tossed her freshly highlighted bangs from her face, but you were more surprised that her demon spawn children were nowhere to be seen, likely congregating elsewhere to commit more crimes against the local wildlife. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

You deadpanned, ignoring the hushed whispers behind you. Cindy’s brows lifted, and she tried to peek behind you, but you squared your stick shoulders and fake coughed. “I don’t know, Cindy, what time is it?”

“It’s too damn early, that’s what it is,” she said despite it being after five o’clock in the afternoon. “I’ve always considered you a sensible neighbor–”

“Hold on,” you held up a hand, bafflement creeping into your expression. “Why are you here?”

“For god’s sake, (Y/n),” she put two fingers on the bridge of her nose and you felt your exasperation ebb minutely–seems like you weren’t the only one who had a hard day. “What are you doing, screaming like that?“

“...Um.”

“I get that the Tic Tac app condones all these newfangled things, but that’s no excuse to involve the neighborhood in your shenanigans–”

What. The. Fuck. 

Your jaw nearly hit the floor–did she think you were having an orgy? It was so… so hilariously wrong that you were temporarily rendered speechless, helplessly listening to her spiel about adequate soundproofing and some other bullshit about using protection that you didn’t have the brain power to comprehend at the moment. It didn’t help that there was an audible gasp from within the house that followed her initial words as one of the boys ultimately came (har har) to the same conclusion you had. 

When you did find your voice, it came out in choppy half-sentences that did absolutely nothing to help your case. “I’m not– why would you–”

“Oh, honey,” Cindy tossed her hair in one flawless move. Distant screaming could be heard from her property and you cringed at the thought of having to call the fire department so soon after last time. “Before you–” she leaned close, and you backed away, unintentionally revealing Wind’s head poking out from the living room wall. ”–there was me.”

With that, your neighbor was gone. You remained at the foyer, leaning against the door frame for support, expression completely drained of any and all emotion. Every one of your thoughts was centered around the complete and total madness that had just occurred until Wind whispered. “Is she gone?”

You closed the door and collapsed back onto it, battling with the distinct urge to scream like a maniac. Four wandered around the corner and plopped himself against the wall next to you. You allowed yourself a few moments of silence, only moving when the tallest man’s bulky form entered the hall, flanked by Twilight, Wild, and Legend, who was the first to speak. 

“That was…” if you had been paying attention, you would have noticed the faint redness on the tips of his ears. 

“I need a nap,” you groaned, massaging your temples for the nth time today. The tallest man stood a bit straighter when you fixed your sights on him. “How many more of you did you say were coming?”

“Three more,” he glanced up and you half expected to see another one of them dropping from the ceiling. When nothing happened, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair. 

“Okay, the guest room is just down there–” you pointed at said door for emphasis. “–and mine is the one after it. There should be enough blankets for y’all, but I can go on a supply run if anything ends up on fire…” you paused, tone taking a distinct, pleading undertone when you continued. “Please don’t set my things on fire.”

“You have our word,” the tall man promised, laying a hand over his heart, and you felt marginally better. 

“Rad. Now,” you clapped your hands. “Who wants croissants?”

This chapter fought me tooth and nail, so please be gentle!

[wolfeyedwitch]

The Heart and the Hunger, Part 15

Whumptober 2024 Alt Prompt: Communication Barrier

Strap in, folks. The communication is staggeringly terrible here.

CW: conditioned female nonverbal whumpee, it as a pronoun, implied past torture, pet whump, implied past NSFWhump, whumpee tries to seduce caretaker.

Masterlist

--

The vampire didn’t bother watching as its owner gathered up items to prepare to remove it from the bathtub. It stayed still, enjoying the feeling of being clean. It had been… it didn’t even know how long, since it had been this properly clean. 

“Okay, ready to get out?” he asked.

It nodded, knowing the right answer to give regardless of its actual feelings on the matter.

His hands were gentle as he lifted it out and wrapped it in a towel, then set it down on a stool. He took a second towel and began to dry its hair. 

“Now that you’re cleaned up, I want to look at your wounds again,” he said. He gave it an expectant look. It took the vampire a moment to realize he wanted a response. 

At its nod, he continued. “Okay, good. And just like before, let me know if you want me to stop, alright?”

It repeated the action he had shown it, tapping a knuckle against the stool it was perched on. 

“Just like that,” he said with a smile. “Good job.”

The praise settled something deep inside the vampire. As strange as this situation was, it was doing well. Its new owner was pleased. 

That settled feeling carried it through the discomfort of having the towel peeled away from its form. It carried the vampire through having salves and bandages applied to its various wounds, especially its wrists, ankles, and back. 

It gave the vampire the push it needed to thank its new owner properly for his kindness and generosity.

As he finished cleaning and bandaging its throat where the collar (silver, burning, always burning) had left its mark, the vampire turned its head so his hand cupped its cheek, and nuzzled into his touch. 

He was silent for a long moment, thumb slowly rubbing across its cheekbone. When he spoke, his voice was thick with emotion it couldn’t place. “You did so well with that. Great job, kid.”

It pressed further into his touch. Its owner was pleased with it; it should make the most of this.

It was a good pet. It knew its place, its role. If it wanted this owner to keep it, it needed to make him happy.

There were only so many reasons to keep a vampire pet, after all. 

Slowly, avoiding any moves that could be mistaken for aggression, it turned to press a kiss to his palm. His eyes were wide with surprise when it glanced to see his response. 

It took that as a sign to continue. 

Kisses were a gamble, and not one it wanted to push too far. They put its fangs far too close to vulnerable human skin. Some enjoyed the thrill of that danger, while others didn’t want any such risk. It didn’t know yet how this owner might respond, so it didn’t continue.

(It remembered. Remembered kissing lines up from vulnerable wrists to even more vulnerable necks, seeing its prey shiver with delight and anticipation as its breath caressed their pulse points— No. No. The past didn't matter. Only the present.)

It turned so its cheek was once more in his big palm and raised one hand—slowly, always slowly—to touch his. With its other hand, it began tracing a line from its knee up its inner thigh, spreading its legs as it went. It arched its back and let out a soft moan. 

It didn’t have much to offer, but it knew how to play this part. It knew how to offer itself up for its owner’s pleasure.

“Stop.” 

The word was sharp, unmistakable as anything other than a command. 

It obeyed immediately. 

When it dared to look at its owner’s face, it knew it had made a horrible mistake.

He was furious.

---

Taglist:

@kim-poce @cupcakes-and-pain @nonbinary-disaster @onlybadendings @neverthelass 

@its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog @ghostfacepepper @someonesnamesblog @rainbowsandwhumperflies @extemporary-whump 

@thecyrulik @myhusbandsasemni @heart4brains @kixngiggles @whumpsday 

@whumppsychology @elrysdoesstuff @towerlesskey @inkkswhumpandstuff @whumpycries 

@thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @haro-whumps @pigeonwhumps @cc1010foxy @bloodinkandashes

[skribbyposts]

ZOSAN KINKTOBER DAY 1 - SCENT

Hey yall, i know it's actually october 3rd BUT that just means that there's gonna be three fics posted today. Also this version is unbeta'd but the corrected version will be up on my ao3! Love yall, and enjoy!! ______

After Sanji finishes prepping lunch and dinner, he pokes his head out of the galley doorway to bark at Zoro to wake the fuck up because his food is in the fridge. However, he’s not in his usual napping spot. Which is strange, because the marimo never moves unless he’s working out in the crows’ nest. Sanji spares a glance up there as well, but he can’t see any movement. Whatever, he doesn’t care what Zoro does with his time anyway. Sanji just wants to take a nap before he needs to slave over the fucking stove making lunch for fifteen people (six and a half of which are Luffy.)

He heads into the men’s bunkroom, intending to collapse on his bed til’ about six pm. But instead stumbles upon something very very strange.

Zoro is standing right next to Sanji’s bed, gripping onto a jacket– Sanji’s jacket– like a lifeline with his nose buried into the fabric, taking deep breaths. His eyes are closed, so he doesn’t see Sanji gaping in the doorway like an idiot– wait no, Sanji isn’t the idiot in this situation. That’s besides the point, what the fuck is Zoro doing?

Is Sanji shocked? Well, yes, but there’s also a sense of smug curiosity buried in there for some ungodly reason. Zoro’s always had a keen sense of smell, Sanji sees it in the way he cringes at brussels sprouts cooking from all the way in the crows’ nest or how he always can tell when a storm is brewing even with his eyes closed. Which makes it all the more puzzling to see Zoro, standing there, sniffing Sanji’s fucking jacket like it’s the first breath of air he’s taken in years.

“Can you tell?” Sanji asks, because for some reason impulse won over and he couldn’t be assed to say ‘what the actual fuck are you doing you freak’ like a normal person probably would. Zoro’s eyes fly open at the sound of Sanji’s voice, startled grey darting to look in the doorway while he’s still nose-deep in Sanji’s jacket.

Zoro says something, but Sanji can’t hear because he’s still muffled by the fabric and that’s doing something to Sanji for some godforsaken reason and-

“I bought something new. Today, I mean.” Sanji needs to shut his mouth, because now Zoro is looking at him like he’s got three damn heads. “Cologne.”

“…Oh.” Zoro slowly brings Sanji’s jacket away from his face, Looking less like he’s been caught red-handed and just, very, very confused. “Okay.”

“Nice, right? I got it from that tiny stall on the coast.”

“Yeah. S’nice.” Zoro says, now clutching Sanji’s suit jacket in one hand as the other comes to swipe over his mouth. “You, uh, smell different.”

“You think I smell nice?” And that gets him the barest of flustered nods. Since Sanji’s already dug himself into a hole he can't get out of, he gives into curiosity and moves further into the room to rest his back against the wall. “It’s better when it’s on me, you know.”

“Huh. Really?”

“Yeah. C’mere.”

before Sanji can actually process what just came out of his own mouth there's a hand at his chin nudging his face up so his neck is exposed, plush lips brushing against his collarbone as Zoro closes his eyes and breathes him in. He can’t stop the choked dound he lets out at the sudden movement, and zoro responds in kind, curling his arms around Sanji’s midsection and pulling him closer. closer.

Zoro’s gripping the back of his shirt now, pressing his face as far as it can go into the junction between Sanji’s head and neck, taking heavy breaths that send heat roiling in Sanji’s stomach. He shifts his leg to settle in between Zoro’s thighs and the swordsman rolls his hips, pressing his erection into Sanji’s thigh with a strangled curse and Sanji doesn’t think blood has ever traveled do his dick faster.

“Fuck, Zoro–”

“Off, take this shit off,” Zoro breathes, his hands coming to trace Sanji’s chest before he pops three of the fucking buttons off of Sanjji’s shirt. Normally, Sanji would be pissed, but he can’t seem to focus on anything except how good Zoro’s tongue feels as he laps up the sweat pooled in sanji’s clavicle. oro moves to grab the back of Sanji’s neck , and then he’s being pulled into a harsh kiss, gasping into Zoro’s mouth because he can taste his own sweat on Zoro’s tongue and all he wants is more.

They’re grinding against each other now, and Zoro won’t stop mouthing on his chest and neck like he wants to swallow him whole. “This really does it for you, huh?” Sanji askes belatedly, carding a hand through Zoro’s hair from where his head rests on Sanji’s shoulder.

“Shut the fuck up,” Zoro hisses. “F— yes.” And the admisson sends Shivers down Sanji’s spine. “You smell like cigarettes all the time and whatever prissy shit you spray over it drives me fucking crazy.”

And now, out of all times, is when Sanji finds himself flushed. “Good to know.” He snakes an arm down to palm Zoro and the Swordsman’s hips stutter, chasing the pressure of Sanji’s hand.

“Dont stop,” Zoro’s breath hitches on the last syllable as Sanji strokes him, strong hands gliding over his chest before gripping onto his shoulders. It doesn’t take long before he finishes, spilling into Sanji’s hand with a strangled groan.

Neither of them move, for a moment after, Zoro panting heavy breaths into the Crook of Sanji’s neck,

“….Do I really smell like cigarettes?”

“Fuck off.”

_____________

erm so yeah... this might be shit b/c i wrote it in like 3 hours but hope yall enjoyed.. there should be two more coming out tdy so WATCH OUT!!!!

[emeryhiro]

Hiii I’m a silent observer of all things TBOC and your “spoiler free thoughts on…” post is genuinely uplifting after seeing so much frowning and disappointment. I don’t want spoilers really but the only thing I’m very very curious about is who of the two might come to a realization at the end. Is there any way you could disclose it? Even if it’s just via private message? :)

Hey 😊

Thank you! I was hesitant to post about my thoughts on the leaks initially but I'm so glad it has given people at least a little bit of comfort.

I'll try to answer your question without giving away any major spoilers, but at the end, if you'd like more details, please feel free to let me know ♡

I personally believe that it was Daryl who started to realise his feelings by the end of the season, although I have heard some very compelling arguments from some of my friends on here who believe that it was Carol.

But without going into too much detail here are a few of the reasons why I personally think it's Daryl.

To go back for a moment, I personally think that Carol realised her feelings for Daryl a long time ago. If I had to, I'd say it became apparent to me when I saw the episode No Sanctuary (S5EP01)for the first time many years ago. Some might say that it was even earlier than that. But the look on her face when she saw Daryl again in the episode after so long told me everything I needed to know. Additionally, I think the main show was a lot more transparent with us about how Carol felt, through her visions and dreams, compared to Daryl, who was more closed off at the time.

Daryl's reaction to Ash, especially when he's watching Carol and Ash as they reunited. And the questions that he asks Carol about Ash.

The way he couldn't take his eyes off Carol, even when they weren't next to each other. This was especially obvious to me in episode 6 where it looked to me like he was longingly watching her from afar.

There's a moment in episode 6 where Carol and Daryl are in a bit of a predicament, and they lock eyes and just silently look at each other for a moment, followed by Daryl breaking that silence by telling her "I know" 💔

This one isn't a huge spoiler because it's part of the plot as we know it, but there's a line where Daryl is talking to Carol and he says " And I never, ever, stopped trying to get home to you." Daryl doesn't say he never stopped trying to get home... her intentionally adds the "you", because he wanted to make it clear that he wanted to get back to HER and not just home in general.

There are a couple of other very important points that contain huge spoilers (from episode 2 & 3) which I couldn't avoid sharing if I wanted to explain them properly, so I've left them out for the moment. However, I will talk about them in detail when I share my thoughts on the individual episodes as they come out.

~~~~

Thank you again for your encouraging words and question! Like I said earlier, feel free to let me know if you'd like any further details on anything or if you have any other questions ♡♡♡

[trashogram]

TRASHOGRAM !!!!! PLEASE DO MORNING S€X OR ORGASM DENIAL W/ LUCIFER AND MY LIFE IS YOURSSS🗣️🗣️🗣️🙏🙏🙏🙏

Kinktober Day Four — Orgasm Denial

Warning: Oral sex, g/n!reader, perceived sexual dysfunction

You slow down just as his thighs begin to shake and pull off of his cock with an audible ‘pop’. There’s no time to do anything but wince at the split-second graze of your blunt teeth against his sensitive head in your rush. Yet your heart snags as Lucifer makes noise of frustration that’s akin to hysterical giggling.

You watch his stomach tremble with the effort while he whines, heels digging into the floor on impulse and scooting his body a little further away from you.

“Ahhahaha…” Lucifer laughs with tears in his eyes, face darkened by goldenrod. “Why are you doing this?”

The words slur from his mouth, drool rolling down one corner of his lips. You give him an exaggerated look of sympathy.

“Honey, you already asked this.” You reprimand gently.

Your fingertips stroke feather-light over his swollen cock and Lucifer buckles beneath it. He breathes in and out quickly, until it sounds like panicky hiccups from down deep in his chest. And you feel like a god, even with the guilt creeping up on you.

Lucifer had suggested it, had come to you with renewed enthusiasm after days of sheepishness and brooding over a very normal problem: he only lasted a minute in bed.

(Obviously you hadn’t timed it — aside from how mortifying that would be, you also feared it wasn’t even a minute’s worth — but there was no way to deny it.)

You didn’t mind it, perfectly content with the way he tripped over himself to get you off after a litany of apologies. Those were also unnecessary. You knew it had been a while since he’d last had sex (seven years of loyalty to an empty side of the bed). But he minded it very much, and seemed determined to fix things.

Any further protests died on your tongue when he had taken your hands in his, looked at you earnestly and told you that he just wanted to be as close to you as possible. It had actually made you teary-eyed.

Lucifer bites into his bottom lip so hard, teeth sinking into already broken skin, and you soothe him with a caress over his bare stomach and chest. The muscles underneath flutter. He’s gone room temperature after all this time, warmer down south for obvious reasons.

“We can stop.” You say softly. “Do you remember the safe word?”

It really has been some time, but he mouths ‘monocle’ while his expression remains twisted in consternation, eyes shut tightly.

“I just… need a moment.” He responds in heavy breaths.

Lucifer accepts your hand in his as you stroke his cheek. He kisses your palm and holds it close. Bubbliness tempers your body from hard and needy to liquid and light. You lean down on your knees and kiss him tenderly before you feel his claws run through your hair, sailing to the nape of your neck and applying pressure.

Again, the kiss grows with tongue and teeth; Lucifer moans when you suck him tongue and coax it out of his mouth. It curls around your fingers when you offer them and your shared saliva glosses over them before you lower your hand and grab his cock.

[kelocitta]

There is currently a rather large discussion ongoing about the RW fandom behavior, drama, etc. I am not going to talk about the specifics of whats happened for a number of reasons. But what I do want to say is that if at any point you've harassed people over it, whether that be through anon asks or public posts- you did nothing but damage the ability for people to correctly process what is happening. You contributed nothing but harm to an already delicate situation. It does not matter what "side" you were on and I will not tolerate further interaction with me or my work if I found out you did such. If you let your personal hate for anyone boil over into threats, wishes for long term harm and petty comments meant to contribute nothing but slander or mental distress for the individuals involved who were already distressed (or acting irrationally) you did nothing but make it harder for people to process their emotions, thoughts and behaviors constructively. Regardless of who you think was in the right, who fucked up, whatever. It doesn't matter if they deserved it, or earned it, or if its an eye for an eye. Its difficult enough as it is to think clearly when presented with any kind of stressful situation and heckling people does nothing but make it worse and harder for them to explain themself in any capacity. I don't want you anywhere near me if you think that is an acceptable way to act.

[dutybcrne]

Can’t remember if I saw on TikTok or the Twitter, but on here it is v canon to me in my heart that regardless of how the man regards him, Kaeya can and WILL sic Diluc on any creeps he notices giving any gals in Mond trouble

[our-lady-of-mcr]

.

[foldingfittedsheets]

When deciding who to work for there is a sliding scale of employers that goes from lil mom and pop shops up to corporate monoliths. I have worked at both ends of the spectrum and I can pretty definitively say that tiny businesses are hands down the most insane employers.

The sweet spot is a place that has like 10-20 stores; that’s the best possible work environment. They’ll be polished enough to have protocols that make work structured, but not so bogged down with bureaucracy that nothing can ever get done.

This story is not from that sweet spot. This story is from my time working at Oil and Vinegar. Now, like many little franchise stores, the idea was solid. There was on tap imported olive oil and vinegar and it was really delicious. Top shelf. Unfortunately, each location was like the Wild West because owners varied wildly.

My owner was the human embodiment of Mr. Krabbs. His eyes were just constant dollar signs. Throughout my training he informed me of the price of every single piece of equipment I touched and how much it cost to replace it.

He had cameras set up to watch us, and an app on his phone to access the live feed. He’d call us to ask what we were doing when he’d just checked a camera to make sure we were being honest.

Now, the trouble was he had two locations. His location further south did amazing. It was way more centrally located and got three times the foot traffic. The one I worked in was in the snottiest mall possible in Arizona and consequently the rent was through the roof.

It was not going well for my store. We didn’t get as much traffic, so there was only so much I could do in a day. I could dust, sweep, and wait for customers. I read a lot and was frank when he called to interrogate me. I always asked for additional tasks but he never had any. What could I do to prop up a failing business?

But this man was convinced there was some Secret Reason that the store I was in was doing worse. He crunched numbers, looked at staff, and eventually hit upon the most insane possible solution.

We used too much toilet paper.

We were probably stealing toilet paper! Bleeding him dry one single ply square at a time! How dare we need to use the bathroom?! His south location used half as much toilet paper as we did, we must be thieving little monsters!!!!

Friends. The south location was populated entirely by men. My location had three people on staff who had to sit to pee. It was so blindly transparently the source of the discrepancy but this man was convinced we were making off with toilet paper to bankrupt him.

So he implemented what he believed to be an entirely reasonable response to this base treachery. We were allowed to have one roll of toilet paper. At any given time, one roll was permitted to us. This was so transparently unhinged that we protested but he insisted. If we were low on toilet paper we needed to call him to drop off a roll that he brought from his home. Smiling jovially, he assured us he lived so close by that it would be no problem!

When we needed to call him often for more he started tearing his hair out. What were we using toilet paper for?! Why wasn’t his genius plan to stop our scandalous waste working??!

Finally, the manager, the only man on staff had to pull the owner aside and be like, “Look, man, their bladders are smaller. They need to wipe every time they pee. They need to pee even more on their period. Is this really the hill you want to die on?”

Yes. It was. The manager was fired unrelated reasons and denounced as a traitor. The toilet paper ration lasted until I quit and probably until the store closed six months later.