#like how he saw himself dying as a failure

[bread-wizards]

Love Laudna wanting Orym to be the one to cut her down if need be because she feels he can make hard choices, and Travis like "uh hello? What about Chetney? You want to put Orym through that anguish? I am right here" like damn, he right tho

[gay-dorito-dust]

Something angsty like the batboys reaction to reader in the hospital! I don’t think we have enough angst here

Jason

The moment he hears that you were hospitalised it was as though he had a pit developing in his stomach and that it was growing ever larger.

His mind wanders towards the worst case scenario as to how you had gotten hospitalised in the first place and that no matter how hard Jason tried to stop thinking such things, they only continued to get progressively worse the more he tried to ignore it.

He was worried out of his mind about you and somehow found a way to blame himself for not being there for you, not keeping you safe and letting you risk the chance of dying somewhere he couldn’t find you. Jason knew you were in safe hands at the hospital, but that knowledge did very little to ease the ache within his chest as he managed to find the room you were in and felt his heart break at the state you were in.

‘Oh baby bird.’ He whispered as though any louder would physically hurt you as his eyes wandered to the machines you were hooked up to. He hated the sight of the heart monitor even more as it beeped at him rhythmically, showing him that you were alive and well, but he couldn’t help but think of each beep as a mockery towards him and his failure to be there when he should’ve.

‘You shouldn’t be in here hooked up to all these machines.’ Jason said a little louder this time as he sat down on the chair beside your bed, immediately grasping at your hand and squeezing it gently. ‘You should be home with me, cuddled beneath layers of blankets only to complain about how warm you get, but when I suggest you stop cuddling me. you then become stubborn and hug me tighter knowing damn well your making things worse for yourself.’ Jason chuckled softly at the warm memory, but that quickly died when he saw your face and being reminded that you were stuck in a perpetual slumber.

A coma is what the doctors said you were under and they had no idea whether or not you’d awake from it, but insisted that he should talk to you regardless.

So Jason swallows down the lump in his throat and takes a deep breath. ‘Your stronger then this sweetheart. I know you’ll wake up and will call me a soft teddy bear for worrying but I can’t help but worry about you. I always will worry about you because you mean so much to me, and I don’t want to ever think I’ll never get to see your beautiful smile or hear your laugh ever again. I don’t want that.’ Jason said as he finds himself praying to whomever was listening to keep their filthy hands off of you as he also pleaded you case to keep living.

He didn’t know what he could do other than hope that you healed accordingly and wake up so he could smother you in affection and never let you out of his sight ever again.

Jason doesn’t want to loose you but felt as though he was starting to run out of options the longer you’d remain in this coma. So he vows to himself that he’ll come here on a daily basis to talk to you in hopes that it would keep you away from the edge and back to him, preferably back to him and his arms where you belonged.

‘I’m not giving up on you little bird, for you never gave up on me when you should’ve. So I’m here, I’m right here I’m not leaving.’ Jason says to you and he keeps to his word as he stays by your side the whole night.

Dick

Once Dick is made aware that you were hospitalised from Bruce or Barbra, his smile drops from his face as he quietly excuses himself and starts making his journey to the hospital that you were residing.

The sight before him when he arrived at the hospital left Dick with an ache in his heart as he wordlessly sat down in the chair next to you, vowing to himself then and there that he wouldn’t be moving anytime soon. ‘You’ve scared me sweetheart, still scaring me if I’m being honest.’ Dick said as he eyed the monitors with distain as they hook onto you almost like leeches instead of their actual purpose.

He just wanted to take you home and care for you himself but knew he couldn’t.

‘I know I don’t confide in you about my thoughts and feelings and that’s mainly because I was afraid, afraid of how you’d see or think of me afterwards for you are by far the best thing that has ever happened to me.’ Dick confessed as he risked running a hand gingerly down your cheek, becoming upset when you didn’t lean into his touch like you usually do and tries to keep his composure as he continues.

‘If you wake up- no, when you wake up I promise to be more open with you, more honest with you as I don’t want this being the end of us when I have so much I’ve yet to share with you.’ Dick was quick to wiped away at his eyes when he noticed his vision begin to blur and the persistent sniffling he was doing before pulling out his phone to show you pictures of you, himself and Hayley as though that would somehow pull you out of your coma. ‘Hayley is missing you right now, she needs you as much as I do and I don’t think I have the heart to tell her I lost you because I don’t want to loose you.’ He admits as he puts away his phone and cling onto one of your hands desperately.

‘I need you here with me and Hayley, happy and healthy and laughing and in our one little fairy tale life where nothing else matters but us.’ Dick says softly as he presses kisses to your hand, trying his hardest not to break down into tears, but found it harder and harder to keep it all together when the person he cared for most was in a coma, and with no foreseeable future of awaking from.

‘I don’t want to be alone again…please don’t leave me alone and wake up as soon as you can…please I don’t ask for much but I don’t think I can handle loosing you sweetheart. So please, please remain strong and wake up.’

Damian

Leaves the room without another word, uncaring that he might come across as rude or disrespectful, but to Damian you were more important then anyone else and he wasn’t about to waste time with them when you were hospitalised.

Once he had gotten to your room in the hospital he immediately felt his facade crumble as his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you attached to so many machines. Damian could feel him heart rip in two the longer he looked at you that was followed by the need to search for the people who did this and pay them back tenfold.

However Damian knew that you needed him more then ever right now and that his thirst for revenge would have to be put to the side for the meantime, and if it was for you Damian would do anything just to see you open your eyes and tell him that you were okay; However he knew that reality wouldn’t bless him when you were deep in comatose.

So while he was alone with you Damian allowed himself to silently shed a few tears that he had been holding in the entire journey to the hospital, he didn’t know what to do. You were hurt, really hurt and Damian had never felt more useless than he did in this moment as he looks over your form and finding more reasons to simultaneously feel unbridled rage and sadness.

So without realising he had found himself resorting to one thing he thought he’d never do, beg.

‘Please open your eyes my treasure,’ he starts, ‘call me Dami, call me whatever your heart sees fit and I won’t complain about it, not once. I just want you to open your eyes and tell me that everything is going to be fine, that we’re going to be fine.’ Damian trails off as he finds his eyes blurred with more tears that didn’t fall until he was forced to blink.

‘Don’t leave me. this is all I ask of you, for I do not wish to face a life where you are unceremoniously taken from me, I do not wish to live a life we both promised to have without you by my side.’ Damian admits as he reaches for your hand, lifts it and kisses the back of it all the while closing his eyes, squeezing out the last of his tears as he tried to clam his breath but found no avail in his attempts. ‘Don’t take them away from me. I know my hands are tainted with blood, but spare their soul until you can claim mine.’ Damian could feel himself being torn apart at the idea that his pleas for your life weren’t enough to who ever was listening to him in this moment of vulnerability.

‘They are my heart and my soul and they are worth life more than I am. Their soul is pure in comparison to mine, tainted from a young age but I would do anything you ask of me if it meant keeping them safe and alive.’ Damian opened his eyes to look at your oddly peaceful face and felt the ache within his chest grow more into something more painful that he ever thought possible. ‘Torture me all you want I can handle it, but leave them out of it. I can’t stand seeing them hurt or in pain. Seeing them in pain tears at my soul at its very foundations, cracks my heart into a million pieces as I’m left bleeding profusely from imaginary wounds. Let them live, that is all I ask.’ He finishes as he found a fresh wave of tears brining his eyes as he now leaves it up to time to determine your fate.

Damian will forever hate feeling helpless when your life was considered.

Tim

Tracks down the exact hospital you were in and doesn’t waste a moment in heading over there as fast as he could.

He didn’t know the severity of your situation but he wasn’t about to risk a single second doing nothing.

So when he does arrive at the hospital he wishes what he was seeing before him was a dream, a bad dream and that if he pinched himself hard enough he’d wake up to you in bed besides him and no machines hooked onto you.

He didn’t like the sight as it made him feel violently sick but he couldn’t bring himself to leave you alone here, not when you were in a vulnerable position such as a coma.

Tim doesn’t say much as he sits himself by your side, watching with seemingly dead eyes as your heart monitor reminds him that you were alive, while they might’ve been comforting for some, it wasn’t enough for him as he needed to see you awake and fretting over him for how long he stayed up for or the lack of sleep. He needs to see you awake and well to believe that you weren’t gone from his life entirely, not comatose or hooked up to every machine in existence.

He felt like a failure somehow, he was supposed to keep you safe and yet failed to do that, and was now faced with the idea that you might stay like this for months on end without any real progression. If he could easily track where you were in the hospital, then how come he didn’t do the same before you had gotten seriously hurt? Where was the logic in that? he was meant to be one of the smartest detectives in Gotham and yet he couldn’t use everything at his disposal to keep you safe from harm.

What a joke. Tim thinks to himself as he forced himself to look at the damaged you sustained, using it as a reminder of how easily it was for you to be taken from him when he wasn’t on guard and keeping tabs on you.

He didn’t want to promise anything aloud in fear that reality would somehow work against him and take you away earlier than expected. So he just sits there and allows himself to feel the guilt, the fear and the pain that had been building up within his chest from the moment he heard the news, to where he was now. He fisted his jeans angrily as he let the first wave of tears stream down his cheeks, audibly sobbing to himself as he chants to himself;

‘Please wake up, you’ll be okay. Please wake up, you’ll be okay. Please just wake up and take me out of this nightmare, I don’t want this to be real. I’m not ready to loose you yet.’

[ivyluvsyouu]

𝑶𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝑰𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚'𝒓𝒆 𝒔/𝒐 𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒅

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔: 𝑪𝒚𝒏𝒐, 𝑨𝒍𝒃𝒆𝒅𝒐, 𝑿𝒊𝒂𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑲𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒉𝒂

𝑻𝒘! 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅/𝒈𝒐𝒓𝒆

𝑪𝒚𝒏𝒐

He started to get worried when you didn't return home when you said you would. He went out looking for you himself and when he went to where your commission was what he saw horrified him. There was blood everywhere and you were lying on the ground lifeless. He ran over to you and picked you up in his arms and rushed you to Tighnari. "Tighnari please, there has to be something you can do." A part of him knew you were gone but the other part didn't want to believe it. He refused to believe his strong s/o was gone. Impossible. So, when Tighnari told Cyno there was nothing he could do Cyno just nodded and left

He never gave himself time to properly grieve. He just drowned himself in his work and his studies. He bottled up all of his emotions and just tried to act like he was fine. People close to him like Tighnari could see right through him though. No matter how many times Tighnari told him he could talk to him about it Cyno never did. "They're gone. It's in the past." He was furious with himself for not being able to protect you. He often thinks about what he could have done. Maybe if he had gotten you to Tighnari quicker or maybe if he had just gone with you on the commission, you'd still be with him.

No matter how much time passed he never got over your death. He never found another s/o either. He didn't want anybody but you. You were the love of his life, and you were gone.

𝑨𝒍𝒃𝒆𝒅𝒐

"Please, Darling you have to stay strong for me." He begged. But you didn't even hear him. You were already gone. You had been sick for a while and Albedo put everything he was working on pause to try and find some kind of cure for you. He tried everything but nothing made you better. And when you died, he felt like he failed you. No, he knew he had failed you. He shut himself up in Dragonspine for the next few months. Not even allowing Sucrose to come up to Dragonspine. He needed to be alone.

Even after you died, he tried to find the cure to the sickness you had to prevent someone else dying from that awful disease. After a few months of grieving, he started going back down to the city again and he started letting Sucrose come back to Dragonspine but the people around him notice a difference in him. He was less talkative and less welcoming. He would just do his work and paint and when he did paint it would always be paintings of you.

He opened up to Sucrose once about you. "If I had just been able to find a cure, they would still be here..." That night when he opened up to Sucrose he cried and cried about you. He cried about how he missed you. Cried about how he couldn't save you.

𝑿𝒊𝒂𝒐

You died right in front of him. You both were in the middle of a commission and Xiao didn't see the last enemy that was standing behind him. Before the enemy could strike you pushed him out of the way and allowed the enemy to stab you right in the chest. Xiao quickly killed the enemy and rushed to you. He knew there was no way you had survived that, but he was just in shock. "Y/n!! Can you hear me!?" He asked shaking you frantically. He ripped a piece of his sleeve off and tried to wrap it around your wound to stop the bleeding, but it was too late. You were gone.

He never ever forgave himself for that. His purpose in life was to protect people. And he couldn't protect his own S/o. He shut himself off from everyone. Only coming down to the city when Zhongli needed him. He felt like a failure. And when Zhongli tried to talk about it with him Xiao would just brush it off. "I'm fine." he would insist.

Whenever he would go down to Liyue everything reminded him of you. He wouldn't even go to Laternrite anymore. It reminded him of when you and him would go together and watch the fireworks. Everything reminded him of his love for you and how he couldn't protect you.

𝑲𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒉𝒂

You had always had a bad immune system. So, when you came down with a fever you insisted to your fiancé that you were okay and that he didn't need to miss his boat to Inazuma and that you would be fine by the time he came back. Kazuha didn't like the idea of leaving you when you weren't feeling well but you insisted that you would be okay.

So, when he had gotten word that you had passed away while he was gone, he was devastated that he didn't listen to his gut. He rushed home and the doctors confirmed that you had died, and they explained to him what had gone wrong and why you died. "Thank you for your time doctor." He said. His voice shaking and tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. He went to a place that he would take you on dates. A quiet meadow away from the city.

He sat there and thought about what he could have done differently. For some reason he just had a gut feeling that if he had stayed you would've been fine. He hated to think about the fact that you had to die alone while he was off wandering in Inazuma. After that night he caught a boat back to the nation you had been born in. Mondstadt, He spent the next few months exploring the nation and living there to try and feel close to you again.

He would have terrible nightmares about you. To the point where he hated going to sleep. Nightmares of you dying, Nightmares of seeing your lifeless body on the ground. These nightmares didn't last forever they were just in the first few months of him grieving.

Eventually he returned to his usually wandering and he somewhat returned to normal. He never forgot about you though. He always had in the back of his mind what he could have done to help you.

Thank you sm for reading! requests are always open!

[meanbossart]

Omg omg Meanboss i saw ur Patreon Post rn aaaaand now i can't stop thinking about how Astarion and Drow would react and grieve, if one of them died. Do u have any thoughts to that?

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh boy. I'm almost reluctant to answer this because I feel like this is absolutely DU drow's ugliest side, LOL.

So let me put off the inevitable and start with Astarion: the unlikely more well-adjusted half when it comes to this - if you can call total desensitization being "well adjusted", at least.

Astarion has led hundreds of people to their deaths after supposedly earning their trust, care and attention - I'm not saying every single one of his outings ended in heart-break, in fact the vast majority were probably completely impersonal one-night stands, but at SOME POINT in Astarion's life he must have held some care for people or at least an aversion to the idea of manipulating them into death's maw - until he had to do it over, and over, and over, and over again.

It's very clear to me that Astarion managed to completely shut his empathy out, as well as his sense of attachment especially in the short-term. Those things still exist within him but are like a weak flame he has to keep feeding with kindling if he wants it to stick around; and it would be far easier to just extinguish it at once. If someone close to him were to die, especially unexpectedly, he'd just stomp it out for good and move on as if nothing had happened, probably unable to form another relationship like it for at the very least a couple of years but otherwise remain perfectly functional, and, by all intends and purposes, have gotten over the loss exceptionally quickly.

Obviously, if we're talking about DU drow's death, this would change over time and depend on how long they remained together for. I can't tell you how 500-year-old Astarion would react to the loss of his loved one (too many variables to consider) but one can expect the concept to become harder to accept the more used he grows to someone's permanence.

Now, the drow. He does not deal well with losing, and that applies to people just as well as it applies to concepts and objects. I think he can wrap his mind around the idea of someone dying of old-age, but anything short of that is akin to being stolen from.

Which brings us to Astarion's immortality, and the false sense of security that that brings DU drow. In his mind, if he is immortal, that simply means he won't ever die. This is, to him, is a certain fact the vast majority of the time,save for the rare and brief occasion where he has to face a different reality. This also means that if Astarion ever dies, that is obviously due to a tremendous failure in DU drow's part.

I simply do not think he would get over it. Much like the scenario with Villain DU drow where Orin's death basically begins the countdown for his own, his ambitions from that point forward would cap at revenge, and done that, he would either become something profoundly ugly or just let himself rot. I think this is just... Something inherit to him and the way he functions, making the former memory loss a blessing in even more ways than it already is.

He'd probably also try to resurrect him, but for all his desperation I can at least tell you that he wouldn't fall for/settle for anything lesser than his beloved with their cognizance fully intact, nor do anything that could destroy their corpse. He, uh, Is gonna need that.

[yandere-sins]

Guard #500

a/n: It's been a hot minute but I just got this idea for our beloved prince so I just went for it. Hopefully it comes across as fun as I had while writing it ♥

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Pairings: Yandere!Guard!Malleus Draconia x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Malleus eating out reader, Mentioning of a one-night-stand), Abuse of authority, Manipulation, Mentioning of Reader unintentionally cutting on a knife (but no further actions in that regard), Mentioning of knifes/assassination/dead/dying, Slightly unhinged behavior from the Yandere, Slightly gorey description, Long Post

[Prison Project Introduction & How to request | Pinterest Moodboard]

There was something especially cruel about having your failure rubbed into your face.

He didn't even need to say anything, much less move. It was enough for your former target to stand outside your cell, unfortunately, alive and well, taunting you with his silence. Malleus Draconia was probably the most feared name one could hear when you were sent to prison for your crimes. And the more grave your crime was, the more you had to fear him.

"It doesn't suit you," he finally said after staring at you for a long time. 

The two other guards at his side eyed him, confused about his statement. You stopped pretending to read your book, an activity you abandoned the moment he stepped up to your cell. Your mind was too nervous to concentrate on the words, but even so, you had the desire to pretend he wasn't there, hoping he'd leave.

"I don't know much about fashion—I should ask Schoenheit about that," he directed the last few words at his fellow officers rather than you. "But orange doesn't seem to suit you."

"Unfortunately," you sighed, pretending not to have a nervous tension all throughout you just from speaking in his presence. "The dress you saw me in last was just too pretty for prison."

"Unfortunate, indeed."

More silence, and you finally put down the book, looking up at him. You held no personal grudge against the man. He hadn't done anything to you yet. It had been a failed assassination, one you had been paid for and which would give you a nice retirement once you got out. Some guy stuck in this prison with you wanted him dead, hired you, and now the biggest blow was that to your ego. 

Malleus Draconia, however, still sent shivers down your spine.

He had that authoritarian aura around him and the piercing green eyes to match. When your gaze met his across the dancefloor of his private estate, you had felt your heart miss out a beat, your body tensing, trying to decide whether to run or approach. Something about him just drew you in, magically even. And at the same time, you felt like prey even though you were hunting him. It had been him who had walked up to you first, asked for a dance, and you foolishly agreed, letting him sweep you over the floor and into his bedroom like a fool. You could have killed him there, easily, and disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. 

But you couldn't. Not when he looked at you with the adoration of a lover. He was a rare jewel you could never possess, but you seemed to be the treasure of a lifetime in his eyes. 

Never before had you let anyone deter you from your goals. Becoming an assassin hadn't been an easy task, betrayel your every-day business. You took advantage of your victims for as long as you needed, and then you stabbed them in the back, not caring if they knew it was you, cursing you with their dying breaths. But you did it well. Discreet and highly compensated, you thought that was all that mattered at the end of the day.

So why did the memory of that night still heat up your face?

You wanted to appear cool and unbothered by him now that you two were locked in this prison together. But how could you when you still remembered the dragging of his fingertips along your skin? The reverent way he parted your legs to fit himself between them, like the missing piece of a puzzle. 

How could you forget the way his scent drafted all around you? His sheets, his hair, his body rubbing against yours, melting you into a malleable silhouette of passion and desire. If you took off your clothes, it was most likely you'd still find a hickey or lovebite left behind in the moments of pure lust, and when you touched yourself at night, you still imagined his image that of a slightly disheveled god looking down on you with the mercy and the grace of a servant. 

At this point, you thought you saw Malleus' smile widen as if he could read your thoughts. Perhaps you never had the kind of pokerface you thought you did. But one way or another, he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking of, even if just because he was thinking of it, too. 

"I liked you so much better, draped in my green sheets. But that's nothing that can't be arranged even now. I look forward to your next attempt, little assassin."

He left, appearing pleased with himself, to the absolute horror of you and the two other guards, who took a double take at their superior before shooting you dirty glances. That's right, you thought, almost wanting to say out loud, "I fucked your great Malleus Draconia."

But you didn't. Instead, you shrugged, feigning your return to read your book nonchalantly as if nothing that happened was a big deal. You had no beef with them, and trying to hide your embarrassment by sticking your nose in your book was better than letting them see how failure raked its claws over your back.

It felt almost the same as how Malleus had done it. 

"Is this-- this even allowed?"

Your head fell back the moment you uttered your momentary concerns. Driving your fingers through the silky black hair, Malleus' eyes shot upwards, the green ever so piercing. However, instead of the fight and flight from before, now, the only thing it caused inside you was desire. 

Everything about him was so regal, from how he knelt on only one knee beneath you, to how supportive his shoulder was to your leg draped over it. His hands were buried in your hips, enough to keep you steady but also to direct you exactly where he needed you to be. You were a helpless mess, whining when he pulled his tongue torturously slowly out of your cunt, and you bit your lip when he licked over his, your slick making them shine like some kind of fruity gloss. 

"Do you not like it?" he murmured from between your legs, taking another full drag through your folds as if he was licking the spoon after eating a delicious dessert. "I suppose it hardly measures up to the splendor outside this prison, but I hope you can appreciate my gift to you."

"All I did was get beaten up by my employee, and you gift me a whole-ass cell for myself, prettied up to make it look like your room?"

You weren't sure whether to freak out or to laugh. Not having to share the public amenities and a room with three other stinky inmates was undoubtedly a welcome gift. Still, you were hardly deserving of it after trying to kill the man who presented you with it now. 

"I'm still sorry about that; I should have come earlier," his gaze dropped, the light diminishing as he looked at your stomach. The bruise wasn't forming yet, but you knew it would come sooner than later. Even if you trained yourself to be a better assassin, you weren't immune to damage. 

"But I promise to make up for it."

His eyes darted back to meet yours. Gone was the moment of regret; now, all that you saw before they lidded in the process of staying true to his words, was determination. 

You felt his tongue slide back over your clit, the unnatural longness of it wrapping briefly around the nub before he began to suck. There must have been a world record somewhere for getting Malleus Draconia to eat you out, but he, surprisingly, proved to wear the badge of honor when it came to servicing someone. 

It was wrong, but it felt so good.

Biting your finger, you held back the moans as you felt him probe at your entrance again. However, another uncomfortable thought crossed your mind, and as you pulled the finger from between your teeth, Malleus entered you, slipping right along your walls and making you buckle over.

You were glad for him supporting your body, feeling as if you might collapse there and then. "W-What about the others?" you stuttered, unable to shake the feeling even though his actions were very much shaking you. "What will they think if they hear us?"

"Let 'em," Malleus muttered against your pussy, not sounding so dignified with his tongue inside you. "They can 'now who you belon' to."

"Sir!" you gasped, only to let a loud moan escape. It was hard enough to keep up with your worries while your inside clenched around his tongue as if your life depended on it—although he seemed to not mind it in the least. Still, you didn't want to hear dirty talk from someone who was supposed to hate you more than anyone else. And although you felt a real orgasm build, hard and fast, you couldn't shake the embarrassment of being paraded to his goons.

"W-Wait, stop!"

God, you hated yourself. You were so close.

However, Malleus complied. Immediately, all movements ceased, and he looked back up at you, expecting your next command. You were troubled with catching your breath first, but eventually, you shook your head, and you felt the drag of his tongue as it pulled out—not without its tip going left and right, mind you, tasting as much as it could. 

"You've done—ngh!—done enough. I appreciate it, really. But I can't accept this—any of it! I just... I can't. This has to stop."

Malleus stayed silent, gazing at you with a mix of disappointment and, what you could only describe, defiant refusal. "We will not," he finally concluded, and you gave him a confused look as he gently dropped your leg to the side so you could stand on it again before getting up. 

"Is this not exciting for you? Have I been neglecting your needs? Given how... wet you are, I thought I was going in the right direction, but I can improve my technique if you give me pointers."

"W-What? No! It was fine—great! You were doing everything right, it's just..." Your shoulders sacked as you gestured around the room. "I shouldn't be rewarded like this for trying to kill you. Look, I have nothing against you personally. It was just a job. And what we had was great, but it wasn't that good for you to treat me like this. I mean, shouldn't you hate me? Why are you doing this?"

To your complete bafflement, Malleus chuckled while you were getting worked up about the weird circumstances you two were in.

"Hate you? How could I? You led me right to the people who wanted me dead in the first place. I recognize your role as a pawn in the scheme, but is that it? Do you think this to be boring, now that it is just between you and me? Do you miss the excitement of getting a job done?"

Turning sharply on his heels, every one of his moves so deliberate yet fluid, he stepped over to a small box on the table, opening it and taking something out of it. Turning towards you again, he only needed to snap it open to reveal the sharp, silver blade of a knife that you thought must have definitely been illegal to be brought into this prison.

"I thought of this, too, you see. That you might need some more excitement. So, here."

Taking your hand in his, he placed the cold jack knife in your hand, directing its tip towards him. When you looked up at him in shock, you could hardly figure out what he was thinking. You thought yourself good at reading expressions and little signs, but with Malleus' formal training, it was hard to make anything out. With the eyes of madness and the smile of adoration on his face, you couldn't make out a single thought in that head of his. 

"Go on, do it. Stab me, cut me, rip me open if you must. Make a mess of my body. And then let me return to where I belong, at your feet, between your legs. Let me nourish on your juices so it may be the last taste on my lips before I perish. And when I am down there, please use me for your desires so you might remember me fondly as well."

"You're crazy," you muttered, doing the only right thing you could in this situation—pulling the knife back to the point you cut yourself before throwing it to the ground so he would stop almost piercing himself on it. 

"Hm, crazy," he pondered, nodding his head thoughtfully. Even in the face of this situation, with his eyes closed, his face serene as a moonlit night, and his hair ever so slightly disheveled from you meddling with it before, he seemed completely composed. He looked nothing but otherworldly, as if he shouldn't be walking among humans but belonged to the creatures written in books. It was unnerving, just like his words. 

Malleus could have had anyone. Surely people would line up to just awe at him for a split second. They'd pay more than you could ever earn in your measly life just to be regarded by him once. Yet, he choose the assassin who wanted to murder him. Who failed yet helped him. You thought you'd eventually meet your employer now that you were in the same prison and get a reminder not to speak of who hired you. You didn't know Malleus would be watching, being able to figure out who wanted him dead just by observing you. 

And because of this, and perhaps the fling you two had on the night of his assassination attempt, he'd come to want you.

"Perhaps I am "crazy". It doesn't feel bad," he admitted, opening his eyes again to look at you. Nothing of the unreadable curse you saw before remained in his gaze. Only pure, unfiltered adoration now filled it. He looked at you like only someone madly in love could. You never thought someone could ever look this way at you, and if not for the nagging fight or flight instinct returning to the forefront of your mind, it almost pulled at your heartstrings.

But before you could react, he leaned forward, picking you up. You squeaked as he lifted you high in the air, your legs wrapping around his torso instinctively. He walked as if you weighed nothing, carefree and playful, tilting his head to nib at your hand that was gripping his uniform jacket before mending the agitation on your skin with a few pecks of his lips.

You eyed the door, waging your options. If you hammered against it, screaming for help, the two guards Malleus left in front of it might think he's in trouble and come in, even though he ordered them to stay outside. Something felt terribly off with this man you once thought to be this elegant, otherworldly prince who could do no wrong. You thought he joined the side of justice to keep up his image, but the amount of mercy he was showing you and only you bordered on selfishness.

It would be better to leave before it was too late. You shouldn't humor a beast that seemed to be starving, fixating itself on the only prey that had no choice but to obey when it was in a helpless position. 

"Crazy or not, stabbing me or not. Either way, let's return to the matter at hand: you didn't cum yet, did you? However am I going to deal with it if my darling is dissatisfied with me?"

In a swooshing motion, you were thrown forward, falling right on your back, only to be caught in softness and comfort. The mattress of the bed he provided you with molded to your body, the pillows and sheets guaranteeing you a good night's sleep on imaginary clouds. And even better support for other activities.

"And just so you know..." Malleus added, climbing on top of you, straightening his back only to pull off his jacket before he hovered closer than ever to you. As if he had to completely erase any distance keeping him from you, his body sticking against yours like a magnet. He was mesmerizingly pretty and you still couldn't believe what he was doing. All of this was wrong, and some feral instincts from a century ago feared he'd rip out your throat as he buried his face beneath your chin, kissing along your neck. 

"I soundproofed the room but I plan to let everyone hear us."

You gulped, and he chuckled, involuntarily feeling the movement press against his lips. 

"You already belong to me," he stated matter-of-factly as his face popped up in front of yours again. You looked at the door once more, fearing it was too late. You were trapped, caught like a princess by the dragon, but there was no knight in shining armor to save you. 

"And I'll prove it to everyone and you if I must."

[withacapitalp]

Hurricane Joy

Written for the STWG Daily Prompt "applesauce". This is just a little snippet of a universe where Steve's parents left him with a little half sister, and he and Eddie are dancing around some feelingsssss

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

“Joy, I’ll pay you five bucks to eat. You want five bucks? You can do so many things with five bucks!” 

“Careful there, Harrington. Don’t all those parenting books say bargaining with children develops bad habits?” Eddie asked as he entered the kitchen, finding Steve sitting in front of Joy with applesauce absolutely covering both of their faces. 

“They’ve never had to take on Hurricane Joy and the applesauce of doom,” Steve groaned, pouting in Eddie’s direction as he walked further into the room, pausing to pat Steve on the back as he approached the two. 

“So how is our baby bean today?” Eddie asked, pressing an exaggerated kiss to the top of Joy’s head and listening to her squeal in glee as he did. 

Sure, she had been named after Joyce, but a part of Eddie was honestly convinced that Joy had heard her name once and then made it her mission to live up to it every single second of the day. Even her epic meltdown moments ended up being funny to watch. 

“Well she’s happy as a clam, but breakfast has taken,” Steve paused to look at his watch, sighing and shaking his head when he saw the time, “Over an hour. Applesauce is my enemy, Eds, I swear to god it is.” 

“Well maybe if you stop making faces at her it would go faster,” Eddie suggested, barely holding back his laughter as Steve gave him the world’s bitchiest look before turning back to Joy with renewed vigor. 

“I’m not making faces,” Steve said, continuing to make weird faces at the baby as he tried and failed to spoon applesauce into her mouth. Joy cooed at her brother’s antics, smiling a bright gummy smile as the applesauce dribbled out of her mouth. 

“C’mon, Joy, work with me,” Steve begged, holding out the spoon, “Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me to be happy?” 

Joy burbled, grabbing at the spoon and trying to yank it out of Steve’s grip, flinging applesauce everywhere as she did. Eddie dodged the bit that had been heading for his hair, trying not to burst into laughter as he watched a glob land directly in the middle of Steve’s forehead. 

“Maybe her favorite babysitter should give it a shot?” Eddie offered, trying to act like he wasn’t dying from laughter inside. Most of the time Steve took things fine, but Eddie knew there was a deeply hidden part of his best friend that took every single ‘failure’ as even more evidence he wasn’t cut out to raise his half-sister on his own. 

“Her favorite babysitter is Wayne and you know it,” Steve said with a sigh, voluntarily releasing the spoon and walking over to the sink to wash himself off. 

“Yes, but Wayne was the one who used to get me to eat when I was in silly moods too,” Eddie replied, unable to keep from changing his tone to complete babytalk as he sat in front of Joy. It was just impossible to not want to make those chubby cheeks turn up into a big grin, “Yes he was. I was a silly boy just like you’re a silly silly girl!” 

Joy wiggled in her high chair, slapping her hands down on the tray table as she babbled. 

“And how exactly did he do that?” Steve asked dryly, wiping his face on a clean washcloth and tossing it over his shoulder as he leaned against the sink. 

“Usually with pliers and a crowbar,” Eddie immediately shot back. 

He waited for a few seconds, watching Steve get paler and paler until he was forced to put the man out of his misery. 

“Kidding! Geez, Stevie, lighten up.”

“Sorry I guess I’m just nervous,” Steve said, flapping a hand as he walked closer, reaching down with the washcloth to clean up Joy’s face, “Since it’s the first time…”

He trailed off with a sigh, avoiding eye contact with Eddie and focusing on Joy. Completely unaware, she looked up at her brother, sticking her tongue out and cackling to herself as she did. 

She truly was the world’s cutest baby, but Eddie had someone equally cute he needed to focus his attention on. 

“Everything’s fine now, I promise.” Eddie said, putting down the cup and spoon and coaxing Steve into a hug. He held Steve tight, feeling the other boy clinging on just as hard, burrowing his face into Eddie’s shoulder as he released the tension that had been holding him hostage since the moment Eddie walked in.

It made sense that Steve was so frazzled. This was the first time he was leaving Joy home without him.  

“You’ll go to your shift, you’ll come home with a VHS, we’ll put the baby down, and we’ll celebrate, just you and me” Eddie said, laying the day out in easy to follow steps and hoping that would ease some of Steve’s anxiety, “Me and Joy will stay here the whole day. The only place we’ll go is in the backyard, and I’ll make sure she wears a jacket and shoes if we do,” 

“Starting to sound pretty domestic there Munson,” Steve mumbled, but Eddie could hear the smile on his lips. 

“I’m a regular Lucy Ricardo,” Eddie declared, pulling away from Steve and gently pushing him towards the door, “Now shoo. Go bring home the bacon, Big Daddy.” 

Steve turned red in a second, even the tips of his ears burning a dusty rouge as he shoved Eddie away and spluttered for something to say. It was a lot harder for Steve to think of snappy comebacks now that he had implemented a no cursing rule in the house, and Eddie was planning on taking advantage of that in every way he could. 

Joy was amazing for everything she did, even the unintentional things. 

“I love you, baby. I’ll be home soon. You be a good girl for Eddie,” Steve crooned, giving Joy a thousand kisses before he turned to leave, pausing for a second before walking back over and pressing a firm kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 

“Be home at five, Darling. You better have dinner in the oven and waiting,” Steve ordered, flashing Eddie a tricky little grin before he disappeared out the door. Eddie blinked rapidly at the air in front of him, as if he could will Steve back into existence so he could demand to know exactly what the fuck had just happened. 

“Your brother’s trying to kill me, Joy.” Eddie moaned, hiding his face behind his hair as Joy continued to shout nonsense words in his direction

[jubileemon]

While Blitzo was paid to be Stolas' playmate and was manipulated by his sleazy father into being a thief, Stolas was genuinely happy to have a friend his own age in childhood, which probably saved his sanity from Paimon's less than competent parenting.

When Blitzo explains his dream of running his own circus business, Stolas is incredibly supportive, if somewhat amused at a circus having an office. When the prospect of Blitzo hiring him comes up later, Stolas says he hopes he'll qualify and that Blitzo will make a good boss. While the start of their playdate had Blitzo being bored and clearly not thinking much of Stolas, and even if it comes after Blitzo tricking Stolas in helping him rob the palace, by the end they are laughing together and happily discussing their futures with mutual interest.

During the anniversary party, Stolas was so desperate for emotional connection that, when he met Blitzo again, he convinced himself that the imp was sneaking into his room to seduce him. Blitzo, who hadn't seen him in 25 years and was only after the book, took advantage of this not realizing Stolas was after a genuine connection and leading to the collapse we saw in "OZZIE'S".

It also turns that Blitzo was planning on just tying up Stolas so he didn't see him steal the book...then changed his mind and decided to give Stolas a fun night after discovering just how empty Stolas' life was, looking genuinely guilty upon realizing what kind of emotional damage that abandoning someone in makeshift BDSM would do to him. Especially someone who, in that bondage, called Blitzo his “first ever friend”. "OZZIE'S" has made it very clear that Blitzo might put on a front for everyone else, but I.M.P is his attempt at creating a family "circus", and he doesn't actually have very many friends of his own, having pushed his old friends away years ago (Fizzarolli, Verosika and even kept Stolas at arm's length as a child), and continuing the pattern with Moxxie and Stolas.

Stolas and Blitzo's relationship seem to have been very much headed for doom from the beginning, and it's clear that both Blitzo and Stolas has never had a healthy and meaningful relationship with anyone except maybe Octavia for Stolas and M&M and Loona for Blitzo, and even those relationships are fraught. It probably isn't a coincidence that both Blitzo and Stolas seem to be trying to make up for their horrible fathers by being better father figures to the people in their care. Stolas has been so deprived of love and affection for his whole life, other than Octavia, that he has no idea how real, non-transactional relationships work even though he desperately wants one.

Blitzo's the same, though he's spent more time hiding that, which is understandable given that he's a trained clown that has to hide his emotions. Just like Stolas, Blitzo desperately craves intimacy and a relationship of his own, but he doesn't understand intimacy without some non-love motive behind it, and he pushes others away to the point of resentment because his upbringing/mistakes with relationships in the past have led him to see himself as a failure and horrible person who doesn’t deserve love, despite being terrified of dying alone as a “wrinkly, old, withered waste”. Not to mention that Stolas, being a very sheltered member of the Goetia family, has a very poor understanding of power dynamics and as such, his "kinky fantasy" of “favors for favors” has real implications that he failed to consider, which may have permanently impacted his relationship with Blitzo. Only time will tell if they can make things right.

[incarnadin3]

How Obey Me Brothers realized they were in love with MC: Part Seven, Belphegor

A/N: I'm gonna post this one before Satan and break the order because I have no clue what to write for him, and I originally started this series after thinking about Belphie being in love while being in the (you guessed it) shower. I feel like his is one of the easier ones because of what happened between him and MC and then Lilith. Another reason why Beel's is also really easy to write (hint hint). Also, unlike stated, Lilith doesn't actually hate Belphie, that's a figment of his imagination, and his hate for sloth isn't factual (I think?) that's just for plot. Anyways sorry if there's mistakes, for some reason autocorrect does not want to work. Enjoy~

Belphegor: The Catnapping Seventhborn

Being youngest meant that one could get away with a lot of things, but how could one get away with guilt?

There were only two things that Belphie felt guilt for. Killing you, and being the one that was saved during the Celestial War. Each day, when he looks at himself in the mirror, he sees a demon, full of sloth, and weakness. He looks at Beel's muscles, and wishes he had them too. Whenever he looks at himself in the mirror, he only sees the self-loath. Why couldn't he have had been stronger? If only he was strong enough to save himself during the war, then Beel wouldn't have had to choose between him and Lilith. Hell, he could have saved her. Now, her shadow stands behind him in the mirror, a look of pure hatred on her face.

One might look at Belphie and think, "Man, that's a demon who loves sleep". But no, Belphie hated his sin. It reminded him of his failure to be strong enough to save Lilith and himself.

He hated sleeping. Sure, his powers allowed him to control dreams, but what if his own powers want him to remind him of all his lacking qualities.

One doesn't think much of sleeping positions, and certainly no one batted an eye to Belphie sleeping. Not even his own twin knew when Belphie went into a nightmare. All he wished was that someone could shake him awake, hug him, and take care of him. But no-one noticed the signs that he needed comfort.

Belphie's sleeping positions went as such:

Splayed out - he was in a cozy dream, usually including you as a side character along with his brothers

Big spooning his pillow - in a dream with you (often times a date or a wet dream)

Little spooning his pillow - comfort dream where you reassures him that you didn't have him for killing you

And lastly, curled up - dream of the moment where Lilith died or you dying in Mammon's arms

No one, not even his twin knew that he still had these dreams, or what each position meant. He didn't think you even cared as long as you slept next to him. But today he got proven wrong.

Today was just like any other Saturday morning, full of chaos. On one had, Mammon was microwaving his frozen credit card, Goldie, and on the other, Lucifer was running around yelling, after a certain someone mixed bleach into his shampoo, making him look like a splitting image of his son/brother, Satan. Tired of the chaos, Belphie decided to steal a couple bites before slinking away back to his room, making sure to close his door tightly and hide the empty bleach bottle in case Lucifer and Satan joined forced in finding the culprit and burn down the HoL. Sinking into his bed, sleep took him within

The dream started like no other, Belphie big spooning his pillow as he dreamt of dragging you with him into the attic for a romantic date. But that's when things took a turn.

Belphie curled tighter as in his dream the two of you walked into the attic to see blood staining the wall. As Belphie reached for you in the dream, his hand touched a cold one. As he turned, he saw you, floating like a ghost, pale white, still in the clothes you died in, dried blood on your skin as you stared at him, and said in a gravelly voice, "You!"

"You killed me! I hate you!"

Belphie curled into a ball as he reached for you once again in the dream, as your hair fell into your face, (sorry to my bald MCs) obscuring your face from view.

As he reached out to push the hair away, to his horror, instead of your face, Lilith's angelic face greeted him, smiling, as your, or rather her body began to glow. Her smile turned sharper, as she reached into a hidden pocket in her angelic dress, and pulled out a sharp knife made of diamonds.

Belphie's face paled as he curled into the tightest ball ever, trembling as Lilith raised the knife and screamed.

"First you cause my death and then you kill my descendant?! I'll kill you!"

As the knife shot towards his chest, he snapped out of the dream, sweating as he gasped for air, his entire frame being shook by someone. He turned to see you, a concerned smile on your face as you wipe away his sweat, hugging him tightly and rocking him back and forth.

He doesn't know what takes him over at that moment, but he crumples into the embrace, his usual aloof personality being thrown out of the window.

"Shh its ok. I forgive you. And so does Lilith."

"H-huh? How'd you know I was dreaming of that?"

"I could tell by the way you were sleeping."

Never in his centuries of existence had anyone bothered to take notice of how he slept and correlate it with his dreams. Hell, it was a fucking milestone if someone even bothered to ask how he slept. But for you to tell what his dreams were about without him telling you, and comforting him? He felt like an angel all over again.

As the two of you laid down, him being big spooned by you, he relaxed, never once dreaming of Lilith and you dying ever again.

Guilt is often a crippling thing, and in the human world, it can even end lives. Belphie didn't go as far as that, but with you around, his brothers were shocked to see a smile on his face.

[cirusthecitrus]

Thinking about the portal incident again How it was never explained what caused the portal to appear, was Light Hope involved, was it someone else or was it wild magic. Was it planned or was it a pure random and luck How it saved Hordak from certain death. How it saved him from Prime How it appeared at the right place at the very right time. And had this happened a day late or anywhere else on the front lines, he most likely wouldn't have survived

How in that moment on the battlegrounds Hordak probably no longer believed he could be saved and just accepted his fate

How he might've as well been mere weeks/days old and his life could've ended before it even began. And he was ready to accept it

How in his mind he might have thought he was dying. And how confused and defeated he must have felt once he realized that he was still alive. That this portal did not kill him, but rather took away his chance at doing something "right", the last chance at pleasing his god. How he might've saw himself as an even bigger failure, because he couldn't even die right

How this sudden brutal separation from Prime and the Hive Mind was necessary and, in retrospect, was the best thing to ever happen to Hordak. How by physically cutting all the ties he had to the Horde and the known universe, some random portal did more to protect Hordak than most people in his life ever did

How Hordak himself viewed his situation not as a miracle but as fate worse than death. How at first he only felt immense pain, fear and grief, like a very young child whom was forcebly taken away from their abusive family. How he did not understand that it was good for him and only wished to return home and see his brother again. How Hordak wasted years of his life trying to find him. How his indoctrination, loyalty and love were stronger even than such powerful magic/technology

How Hordak had no idea what to do with himself at first, for he never thought he would've lasted this long. For he was not meant to live that long. And yet, he no longer welcomed death and once again found will to live. He did not let himself give up this time

How he's been looking for a portal home, hoping that one day it's going to appear again. How eventually, tired of waiting, he decided to create a portal of his own. How it became his life's work

How it was a portal that sent Adora to Etheria, someone who will one day free Hordak and the entire universe from Prime. How, if he wasn't waiting for another portal this entire time, no one would've come for her and Adora could've died on that field. But Hordak was there, and (as best as he could) he took care of someone who ended up in the same situation he was in

How it was a portal that brought Hordak to Etheria, and into Entrapta's lonely life. How they would've never met each other if it wasnt for that incident

How it was a portal that invited Entrapta into his life and helped him connect with a person who will forever change his life. How it was a portal that became a catalist for their friendship (and love)

How the "natural" portal that sent Hordak to Etheria can represent real connections and the painful process of growth and change (seeing new places, meeting new people, trying new things, distancing from harmful enviroment, learning independence, being responsible for oneself and others)

How the "artificial" portal Hordak created himself can represent desire to return to this false safety of the past, where everything was simple and familiar, as well as his desperate wish to rebuild his connection with Prime. A connection that was never there. How it was falling apart from the start, how at first Entrapta was so eager to help her friend succeed, but eventually realized that the portal was dangerous. How in the end it only hurt Hordak and everyone around him

How the portal that appeared "naturally" gave him not what he wanted, but what he needed. A safe place, people who understand him, a chance at better life, his personhood. How, after the "artificial" portal gave him something he thought he wanted, Hordak went back to square one. How, in reality, it only took everything from him

Portals, man...

[crepes-suzette-373]

One Piece Magazine Reiju short story

I recently bought One Piece Magazine to read the Reiju short story. I don't know how to share this experience other than just straight up translating the whole thing, but it was utterly hilarious chaos with the brothers trying to cook and it just ended up being a disastrous mess.

I'll give a summary, I guess...

Reiju and her brothers went to another kingdom for a diplomatic discussion, but once they were done, the Germa ships that were supposed to pick them up got delayed by the weather. The bros can't wait so they demand the locals to be given a ship.

Niji/Yonji: "Oh good, they understand. So we don't have to steal a ship."

Well, they did tell the people that Germa will compensate them, but still.

And yeah, the guys were so hungry that they were like "Even though royals shouldn't do menial things like cooking, we're dying of hunger here so it can't be helped."

All writers apparently agree that Niji misses Sanji like an utter dumbass because in the kitchen he out of nowhere says "Didn't we used to have a younger brother called Sanji who likes to cook?"

Yonji says "Yeah, he was kind of lame" and Ichiji says there's been wanted posters of him being spread around.

(Edit: I saw another post saying that the one who brought up Sanji first is Ichiji. To be fair, in the actual text there's no dialogue tags indicating who was talking. It's definitely not Yonji, because it specified "younger" brother. I personally read this as Niji because the sentence was more informal-sounding)

Based on the info they got, Reiju is aware of Sanji's history with Baratie and the Straw Hat crew, and thinks that because he's listed as just a cook on the wanted posters and not "fighter/combatant", he's probably still not much stronger than before.

Ichiji found some pork, labelled to be from Broc Coli. Reiju mentioned that Broc Coli specialises in pig farming and the pigs have been selectively bred to improve the meat quality. Ichiji commented "Oh, it's similar to our lineage factor modification, then", but then the next second he suddenly gets mad about it himself, throws the meat to the ground and was like "How could pigs compare to our Vinsmoke royal family."

Reiju: "You brought it up yourself out of nowhere though? :/"

Ichiji is grumpy and wants to go fishing instead. With the Raid Suit. Don't know how, wasn't explained, maybe he Sparking Valkyrie'd the fishes.

Niji wants to make chocolates, but had a meltdown because the recipe calls for cooking/confectioner's chocolate. He was like "Why?? do you?? need chocolate?? to make chocolate??? If the chocolate is already there I'll just eat that directly???"

(Note: It's not making cake or brownies or anything, it's making something along the lines of chocolate truffles or milk chocolates or other forms of chocolate that isn't just straight up dark chocolate/confectioner's chocolate. He's confused because the final product is still just "chocolate")

Yonji wants to make bread because it looks easy. Reiju decided to try to make something too, and wanted to make tamagoyaki (Japanese rolled omelettes) because she remembered reading about it in a story book with Sora before.

Reiju's logic: "If a penguin (in the story book) can cook, then even a beginning like me can do it." (so much for Reiju being the rational one)

Yonji starts shouting for help. His bread is a goopy mess and is a total failure. Apparently he didn't add the yeast because the recipe says 3g of yeast, and that's almost 0, so he didn't add any. Reiju tells him to make sure to follow the steps properly.

Ichiji comes back with a giant fish, and is asking for poison check. No poison, so Reiju left him to cut the fish.

Yonji is still having trouble, and he says he had added the ingredients properly this time. The dough is still gloopy and will not firm up even after kneading. Reiju said that maybe because of the exoskeleton, their skin are too cold for the fermentation process to start activating.

Yonji is grumpy and asks if this means he can't make bread. Reiju suggest using hot water to warm his skin, but he's already really disgruntled and says that it's so lame that they have to rely on microorganisms to make bread (well, at least he knows yeast is microorganisms, not just another type of flour).

(Note: This part really does not sound right to me, honestly. Maybe this was just meant to show that Reiju and Yonji have zero knowledge in cooking, but bread dough not firming up and gloopy is usually not related to yeast or fermentation, but the gluten. Most cases that I know of are either caused by adding too much water, not enough kneading, the flour itself is not suitable for bread, or even the dough being over fermented. I've never heard of sticky dough problems being caused by hand temperature.)

(Edit: I've discovered that Japanese bread making guides do mention temperature affecting the dough, but it's nevertheless because of the gluten and not the yeast. This one might a goof on the author's side.)

Ichiji gave up fileting the fish because there's bones everywhere. he dumped all the dead fishes he caught back to the sea. Yonji gave up trying to make bread and tossed the failed dough away (and also threw away Reiju's egg attempt even though it was fine :/). Niji can't find any chocolate, so he has nothing.

They can't do anything except wait until they reach Germa and then just go "AAAAAAA FOOODD" (well, they act cool in front of the servants, but still).

Reiju herself showered and got cleaned up first before going to eat. Seeing the poisoned stonefish served, she wondered how normal chefs handle the poisonous ingredients and so she went to the kitchen to ask.

There was a young cook on cleaning duty that immediately panics, but then a senior cook named Beryl came out to answer her questions. Reiju says old lady Beryl has been there for a very long time, even before the kids were born.

Beryl explains that to treat the armoured stonefish to make it safe to eat is to let it swim in a tank with Ruby Wakame seaweed. The seaweed will absorb the toxins and after 3 weeks, the fish will change from purple to blue, and this indicates that the toxins is completely gone and it will be safe to eat.

An easier method would be to just skin the fish and take out the poisonous organs, but fish skin is a delicacy, and so the chefs would do this so they can serve cuts of the fish with the skin attached.

Reiju makes a comment that cooking must be very hard because her brothers are all picky eaters (not just Niji, apparently), but Beryl says she and the other chefs are happy to adjust the prep to make the food palatable to the boys.

"Ichiji-sama dislikes green vegetables, but if you chop it up finely and mix it with meat dishes such as hamburg steaks, he will eat it without noticing."

Reiju: Is he a toddler?

(Note: Dunno if this is a universal thing, but it's a Japanese thing that when toddlers hate vegetables, the parents would chop up vegetables and put it in meatballs or the toddler's other favourite food so that they can get the vegetable nutrients even though the child dislikes the vegetable's taste)

"Niji-sama dislikes things with complex seasonings, so things like the sauces and such has to be made to be very simple to the utmost extent."

Reiju: That's dumb.

"Yonji-sama doesn't like food with dry texture, but if it's served to him when he gets hungry between meal times, he'll usually eat it."

Reiju: Is he a dog?

(Note: There is a section where Reiju muses that the cooks "safeguards" their meals just like how "Germa 66 protect peace". What peace? In the main series they're fine with siding with whoever, as long as they get paid. This comment doesn't make sense unless maybe she was being ironic/sarcastic here.)

Reiju apologised for bothering the cooks at this time, and Beryl then lets slip that Sanji has been to the kitchens often. When Reiju presses further, eventually Beryl reveals that Sora likes to make desserts often. Sora would say that she hoped to someday be able to cook together with her kids.

Hearing this Reiju briefly fantasised baking together with her mother and Sanji. Knowing it's just idle fantasy, though, she thanks Beryl for telling her all these and helping her appreciate cooking more.

Reiju thinks of Sanji and reevaluates her opinions on him. He's not "just" a cook. People's lives are basically in the hands of the cook, especially on long voyages at sea. She is glad that him having a place as a ship's cook means that he's found good friends who rely on him and trust him.

She then transforms, and uses her ability to suck out the poison from the fish, saying that the cooks are welcome to ask her for help to take out the poison if they need to cook with the stonefish.

[berryless]

OK, Mr Grim Stalker

Grim Reaper | Casper x Custom Female Main Character (PWP, NC-17 || 5k words || smut, fluff, dirty talk, consensual voyeurism, masturbation on camera)

Summary:

Casper was caught in 4K during call, and MC lives for it. They banter lots, tease each other, Casper's barking and begging.

!Warning!

Not Enterely Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Slight Canon Adjustments, Alternative Timeline, Canon Typical Angst and Mentions of Death/dying/etc (but nothing bad really happens, I promise) (at least not in this fic) (this is pure smut with just a sprinkle of warnings)

Read this work on Archive of Our Own.

"You're blushing, Casper," Caha smiled, her head tilted as she watched him sputtering on the other side of the screen. Somehow the certainty of being seen made his usually perfectly coordinated limbs stiff and awkward. 

"…What are you wearing?" he managed in a strangled voice, habitually avoiding answering unwelcome statements.

"Oh, this?" Caha tugged on one of the straps of her top, and her breasts jiggled right in front of camera. Casper wanted to look away, but couldn't, eyes glued to the display. "Laundry day clothes. Be thankful I bothered to put on anything at all."

Did it mean she could've potentially been sitting there naked..? He tried really hard not to think about it, but failed miserably. A stupid thing, really. Not that he never reaped someone during the intercourse, or never saw other bodies naked—both things happened to him plenty of times. The problem was, those things happened with strangers he had no feelings for whatsoever, and so was able to stay perfectly calm and composed the entire time.

And Caha, as much as it pained Casper to admit it, wasn't such a stranger. She was a nuisance and a sole failure in his outstanding career, and, fuck, why was she leaning closer..?

Casper straightened up, squeezing himself into the back of his armchair, watching Caha's chest practically pressing against the camera as she fished for something. He never knew she had a mole there, right in between. Perfect spot for kissing.

"Lyusha says hiiii," Caha hugged the cat to her stomach and waved Lyusha's paw.

"Hi, Lyusha," Casper answered weakly, casually waving back. 

No, he wasn't at all disappointed with the creature's appearance. Or the fact that she was now babied to pieces, taking all of Caha's attention.

In fact he could stand not being watched for a minute or two.

Losing a glove in process, his right hand slid under the desk, brushing against the throbbing tent of his pants. Hells. It was infuriating how little Caha needed to rile him up.

Casper watched her scratching Lyusha's belly, breasts jiggling with each movement of her arms.

Caha had plenty of moles on her face, but he never knew… Right in between, huh..?

He propped his chin, leaning on his left against the table while his right hand was quietly pulling down the zipper. Unlike certain someone, he was dressed properly for the call. And now regretted it a little: sweatpants would've been easier to get around. Still, he managed. Without the constraints of tight clothes, his erection freely stretched the boxers.

Casper took a quick look at the screen, but Caha was still preoccupied with petting purring Lyusha sprawled on her lap with the most annoying baby voice accompaniment possible. 'Oh, who's the cutest sweetest little thing in the whole wide world' and 'yes, my darling baby angel, you guessed right, it's you' were spilling from her like they cost nothing, flowing right into his ears together with the endless kissy noises, like she was saying that to him.

She wasn't, though, and Casper couldn't help but look at Caha, voicelessly begging her to spare at least a crumb of that attention and affection to him.

She didn't notice, of course.

She never did.

Casper hid the lower part of his face under his left hand and took a first tentative stroke, still through clothes, lips tightly pursed to not let out the slightest sound, eyes on the screen, on that fucking mole, thinking only about how it would feel on his lips. Caha was so warm that one time he touched her. So soft. Even through his gloves, Casper felt that.

His lips would probably melt off on spot if he were to kiss her. Run his palms along her curves. Squeeze her chest, fingers sinking into soft flesh. Bite her collarbone, then neck, taking in the pulse of her life beating against his lips.

Now he could only bite on his glove and swallow down the swears as he slowly stroked himself. Quiet. He needed to keep quiet.

Caha paused, then smiled, eyes sparkling. 

"I was expecting a pretty please, but that's better."

She slipped out of straps of her top and then yanked it down, breasts bouncing free of fabric. Casper watched her, breath caught in his throat, mouth suddenly dry. Caha scooped them into her palms, fondling herself carelessly, fingers digging into flesh. That mole was there again, deep brown in jarring contrast against Caha's pale skin. 

"Well, how about it?" she asked, looking at him with a smile. "How do you like your bones, Grimmy? Are they up to your distinguished taste?" 

He tugged his left glove away with his teeth and ruffled his hair, shaking his head that felt two sizes too big all of the sudden. 

"You really want to see me barking at you like a dog, don't you?" Casper sighed helplessly. 

"Maybe. Is that the only thing you want to do with me?" 

 "…Hardly. If anything, I want so much, I can barely think human thoughts." 

Caha let out a satisfied laugh as she plopped back into the pillows. 

"Not a very good boy, are you now, Grimmy?" she teased, finger circling around her nipple. "With many, many naughty thoughts in that fluffy white head of yours, tsk, tsk, tsk."

"And who's at fault for that?" He couldn't help but glare at her, grating his teeth. 

"Yours, of course," Caha scoffed in a matter of factly manner, her chin raised high. "You could've been fucking me like an animal all you wanted, no thoughts, head empty, brain smooth and unwrinkled, but instead you chose this. Now suffer in the bed you've made. Or rather, in a chair. Touch yourself with those beautiful cold hands of yours, thinking about how mine would've felt. Warm. And soft. Very, very soft. No calluses, no rough spots. Wrapping around all of your length, one atop another, stroking, caressing and rubbing you all over."

"Hah… hngh…" 

Casper choked on his suddenly thickened spit. With Caha voice in his ears, saying stuff like that as she played with her tits, watching him masturbating, his body tingled all over, nipples tender and taut, hips thrusting into his hand by themselves. 

"Please… Talk more, Sunshine… Please… I want…I want to hear more…" 

She sighed in a way that made him tremble, then her right hand slid down again.

"It's not just my hands that are warm, you know? It should be much hotter inside my mouth. I'm not sure if I'd swallow you whole, you're kinda…a handful, in more ways than one, but the tip? I would've circled it with my tongue and taken it in. You know those ridges at the roof of the mouth? Right behind the front teeth? Bet they'd feel good against the skin, won't they?"

"…Yes, yes they would."

Hot sweet mouth. That sharp tongue of hers gliding all over him. She would definitely be all teethy about it, just to make him quiver in anticipation of a bite.

Hands on him, warm touch of them. Handling him with that tender carelessness of hers.  Soft, then firm, then soft again. Light scratches. 

Her face, her eyes, looking at him from the bottom up with that mischievous glint to remind him that she may be on her knees now, but it's him who's getting played. Defenseless and at her mercy. Getting the desired relief only with her permission.

"You're so pretty, Casper. So, so pretty." Caha whispered, words round and sticky inside her mouth, r's rolling from her tongue right into his head like pebbles, disturbing his already unstable mind. 

"Can't…take your eyes away…can you?" he scoffed weakly, trying to shake the picture away before he'd start begging out loud. 

"Can't."

"Knew…it. Ha. Good…you're finally admitting it. Told you…I'm charming…and irresistible…for your kind. Hah. Hngh. Fuck…"

He bit on his lip, squirming in his chair, close, so close… 

"I'm trying, believe me. You know…there is another hot and wet place beside my mouth I can put you in? One that'll take you whole. It's practically dripping now, I'll have to squeeze my shorts after this call, really, what are you doing with me… Better then, what you're not doing with me. When you could've. Honestly. You. Ugh."

He knew what she was talking about. Of course he knew. 

"Caha…" 

"It's hard to do it dry handed, isn't it? You're so sensitive, Casper. Bet it's grating to you without any lube, huh? I could've helped with that. Maybe. Depends on your attitude."

"Please…" 

"No. More."

"Woof..?" 

"Still no. More."

"Sunshine…please…"

"Please what? Use words."

"Please…help me. Please… I…I want…" 

"Yes?" 

"I want…this. You. I want…you…so much, I'm going…crazy. You're fucking up… my life…and my head…and my job…and I still… I… I… Caha… Sunshine… Please."

"…You're telling all this, but still aren't coming. Even though I have perfectly toasty dripping pussy to put you in. Swallow you whole and squeeze the life out of you. Or death. Or soul. Or something. I'm sitting here, wet heaving, frothing at my privates, begging to be stuffed. Begging, Casper. Contracting on nothing but air. Achingly empty inside. All those nice wet folds and pulsing muscles left unused when they could've been wrapped around your stupid pretty pink cock. Hot and tight, so, so, sooooo tight. Milking every last drop out of you. Wouldn't that be nice?"

That was the only thing in his head as Caha spoke, words and images blending together, all the fantasies about her he played on repeat swarming in at once, flickering under his eyelids in sporadic fragmented flashes: Caha with her legs spread wide, demanding to fill her; her again, palm pressed against his chest as she straddled him with that annoying cute irresistible smirk on her lips, her wet folds sliding against his cock, covering him in her juices; her again, hands on his shoulders, palm cradling the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin as he thrust inside her; her again, pushing his head between her thighs, fingers raking through his hair before grabbing a fistful of it right at the roots, the tug just the right amount of painful to feel pleasure; her again, eyes closed, teething on her lower lip, all her soft flesh and curves trembling while he mindlessly beat into her like an animal in heat; her again, riding his face, trembling and moaning, his fingers digging into her thighs to keep her in place; her again, his teeth on her neck, biting and licking and biting again, leaving possessive marks in his wake, mine, mine, mine. Her body, her soul, her heart, everything, all of her, only his.

Nothing but her on his mind. 

Just like she wanted. 

Casper came and choked, gasping on air, dizzy and breathless, lost between fantasies and reality, not sure which was what. 

Caha looked at him from the screen, head tilted, pouting, her cheeks bulged. 

"Congratulations. Good for you. I still think I would've done a better job. Made much less of a mess. And you could've cuddled with me afterwards, and I would've kept you warm. Humph."

She turned her face away, but soon looked back at him from the corner of her eye, then turned even further, chin raised high, harrumphing again. 

How could someone be simultaneously so stinking cute and so fuckable? It was still a mystery to him. 

Casper leaned onto the back of his chair and closed his eyes for a moment, evening his breathing and heartbeat. 

Caha was so incredibly wrong about that one thing: she was the one who made all this mess in the first place. Unceremoniously squeezing into his life, into his head, carelessly breaking and destroying all the rules he upheld, all the things he thought were right, all the plans he had for the future, and triumphantly taking the main place among the rubble of his disorderly mind, crowning herself as she took all the space inside it, leaving no room for other thoughts. 

And a week later he was supposed to claim his rightful rewards for winning the bet and ferry her soul to the afterlife, never see her again, and turn back to the life he had before he ever knew her. 

Yeah. 

She couldn't have made a bigger mess if she tried. 

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

No, but they'll be complimenting each other so well going on. One of Ed's big problems is that he just gives up so easily. Plan with the fog failed? We're going to die; I'm gonna get drunk while waiting for death. The fishing isn't going so well? Obviously he's not meant to fish. It's like Ed's spent his entire adult life being really really good at stuff (sailing, piracy, etc) that he's completely unused to failure and doesn't know how to go on from it. But that's an important thing to learn, and in a way it's a joyful thing to learn, too. You can try something and it can go wrong and you suck at it and then you can try again and learn from your mistakes and get better (either at the thing or at failure).

Meanwhile Stede is absolutely amazing at this. He says it himself, he's been a failure all his life, he got used to it. Stede doesn't give up. That's probably his biggest strength IMO. Stede is tenacious as fuck. Something went wrong? The cards are stacked against him? Whatever! He wants to do the thing, he's committed and determined, he's going to do the fucking thing if it fucking kills him. Stede is not going to let Ed give up whenever he gets discouraged. He'll be there to pull him back to his feet and they will try again.

And one of Stede's big problems is that he doesn't think anyone admires him and likes him. Meanwhile Ed has thought Stede is the coolest guy on Earth since meeting him! He's probably the only person to ever think that. Other characters grow to like Stede for some of his qualities, he has a huge impact on everyone around him, but he doesn't see that, and nobody genuinely admires all the quirky Stedeisms about him. Nobody except Ed. Ed thinks the library is awesome. Ed thinks the secret closet full of fancy clothes is the coolest shit he's ever seen. Ed loves Stede prioritising marmalade over gunpowder. Ed loves Stede being extra and bitchy and a complete lunatic.

And they're both seeing it now. They are already complimenting each other like this by the end of season two. Ed gives up on fishing, but it was never actually about fishing anyway. He doesn't give up about Stede and their relationship. He digs out his leathers and goes back into the very fray he's been dying to leave, because he's not giving up about Stede, he's going to fight for him. That's kinda the first time we actually see Ed choose to fight for something? All his ofher fights and violence are reacting to threats to his own person. One way or another, pretty much everything we see Ed do as Blackbeard is him either trying to protect himself, or to actively make someone else kill him. He chooses to live in the gravy basket mermaid scene, but he keeps running from problems after. He keeps running from Stede. And then he turns around and doesn't give up and goes to save his boyfriend and his relationship. It looks hopeless! The odds look terrible! But Ed's going to fight for it anyway, and look, he succeeds! And Stede is waiting for him, Stede knows Ed loves him, Stede doesn't doubt Ed.

And Stede is so desperate for people to think he's cool it makes him stupid and makes him make an ass of himself, but his crazy plan works, and this time when he's recounting his cool adventure Ed is sitting right next to him, all starry eyed and admiring and saying "yeah, it was cool, babe, I saw that". Saying "I see you". Ed's beginning to understand Stede needs to be told how cool Ed thinks he is, and Stede's starting to hear it.

They're going to be okay, guys. They're going to be happy. :)

[melonteee]

I've noticed a couple of times you've made reference to the thought that Sanji might possibly die at the end of the story. Can I ask why that is?

LMAO well I'm not SUPER sure if he's going to die, but there've been a big few moments where it sure seems like Sanji's ready to just throw his life away so long as he can save someone.

Sanji was more than prepared to die for Zeff and the Baratie upon us first meeting him, Sanji dived into the water in Arlong Park to stop Zoro from doing so - knowing a fight against fishmen in water was near suicide. He threw Nami and Luffy to the side in Drum Island to be swept up in an avalanche that nearly killed him, something even Luffy was disturbed by when yelling at Sanji "Tell me if you're going to do these things!"

Skypiea had him kicking Usopp out of the way of Enel's lightening just to take the hit himself, nearly dying from that alone as he passed out immediately after. Water 7 had Sanji taking on the sea train alone knowing how dangerous the people on board were, his desperate attempt to get Robin back ending in crushing failure that leaves him screaming in anger at both CP9 and himself. Thriller Bark had him refusing to let Zoro sacrifice his life while telling Zoro to 'find another cook', meaning he seems to think he's replaceable. Sabaody had Sanji jumping in Kuma's way over and over again in an attempt to get the crew to safety, he broke/damaged his leg for that one. Luffy even begged Sanji to run, but Sanji continued trying to fight Kuma off.

In Dressrosa he yelled at the crew to sail away to safety without him while Doffy quite literally had him entangled and was about the cut his damn head off.

WCI was just a whole arc of Sanji trying to martyr himself for the sake of Luffy and the Strawhats, like that whole arc was just Sanji making himself the sacrificial lamb.

Now we have Wano, as Sanji says he'd rather die than mutate. Sanji is killing himself to...save himself. Or at least, save a version of himself - his humanity. Sanji has quite literally made a death pact with Zoro, and through Egghead we saw his body is very clearly and quickly mutating. This death pact is not off the table at all, Sanji's obviously changing in scary ways, but the question is...can Zoro go through with it? Is he even able to kill Sanji, at Sanji's request?

If anyone has the most death flags in the Strawhats, it's 100% Sanji LMAO

[burningvelvet]

more rambling thoughts about wuthering heights now that i've finished my re-read

1 wuthering heights is basically the looney tunes if the looney tunes were goth. 90% of the novel is people arguing, dying, and running around threatening to kill each other, and often all three of those at once.

2 love how it's filled with dark humor. "he's such a cobweb, a pinch would annihilate him" is such a camp thing to say about the terminally ill child you abhor and who you spend weeks trying to set up on dates with your dead lover's child so you can steal her property when your son finally dies. heathcliff lecturing his son on Seduction 101 right in front of cathy 2.0, trying ridiculously to play cupid and compel them to fall in love with each other before giving up and just kidnapping her instead... surely he's the most insane brontë man?

3 i can't remember what i had for dinner last night but nelly dean can remember what the weather was like on any given friday twenty years ago (love her and her snarky comments)

4 love how after nelly finishes telling the story to lockwood she's like "any way. so you know cathy 2.0 is single right ;)))" and then cathy 2.0 shows zero interest in him. so then he's like "oh i just remembered i have somewhere to be :/" then fucks off to london for nearly a year then when he comes back nelly is like "nvm as it turns out cathy and hareton are actually soulmates lol who knew! gee, it's a good thing she didn't like you!" and he's just silently suffering. emily was just fucking around here. hindley was the only linton/earnshaw/heathcliff who was wild enough to marry someone who didn't share either his gene pool or his neighborhood.

5 i imagine joseph to look like smeagol from the lotr films but taller

6 [heathcliff, after stabbing his alcoholic arch nemesis and then pushing his servant into the puddle of the blood] "Wash that stuff away; and mind the sparks of your candle—it is more than half brandy!” LMAO

7 this opinion list is just turning out to be a list of the most insane heathcliff moments but truly the novel should've just been called "heathcliff"

8 heathcliff's weird paternal feelings for hareton, saving hareton's life, him saying he would truly love him if only he wasn't hindley's child, basically giving hareton his blessing to love cathy 2.0 toward the end... so oddly endearing

9 heathcliff walking out just before the "i am heathcliff" part of her speech. why WHY

10 hindley protecting isabella from heathcliff before she flees was nice and i wish we saw more of their dynamic around the heights. honestly aside from the child neglect (which is par for the course in wuthering heights) hindley is a pretty sympathetic character; his rivalry with heathcliff was fueled by both sides and truly the fault of their father for pitting them against each other by letting heathcliff usurp hindley's place of favoritism as a boy. hindley's gambling and drinking, his general dissipation and failure to secure his son's future, are all tragic.

11 i think hindley/edgar/heathcliff are all interesting foils for each other; they each lose the women they love and are left to be single fathers, and each responds to the task totally differently. if we include mr. earnshaw, all the fathers in the story essentially fail their children after all the mothers die. hindley and heathcliff have a special parallel through their lifelong brotherly competition, the women they love both dying in childbirth, and in their own deaths. hindley slowly kills himself while ignoring everyone around him; heathcliff also kills himself, but only after trying to systematically ruin the lives of everyone around him. they also say that they want to kill each other but fail when they try; heathcliff nearly kills hindley but ends up saving his life at the last minute.

12 heathcliff jr. is so terrified of heathcliff sr. and so traumatized and petrified by fear and he doesn't deserve the hate he gets for being annoying. he's been sheltered his whole life, his mother just died, he was sent to his uncle/cousin only to be immediately torn away from them to be abused by a stranger who treats him horribly, he's terminally ill, he's still a kid, he's threatened into marrying someone he barely knows, etc.

13 if any of you have seen the british comedy show "the young ones" that's literally hindley's household in wuthering heights when joseph/hareton/hindley/heathcliff/isabella all live together. the filth, the slop for dinner, the petty games, the violence, the fierce hatred yet weird loyalty to each other, etc.

14 i really wonder how cathy would have reacted to heathcliff's treatment of everyone else if only she had known the full details (ie his harsh abuse of isabella, his son, cathy 2.0, etc.)

15 heights was my first brontë novel but i think i like jane eyre and tenant better now that i've read them all back to back! next on the list is likely agnes gray. anne, my underrated queen!

[concreteparasite]

Hello Concrete! I had a question about your Binary star IF but if you're not answering questions like these please ignore me 🙏

I was replaying the IF and I noticed background information about Ray that I had missed. His background sounds really interesting with steel something (I forgot their name sorry 😭 also he tried to hurt Ray?? excuse me? how dare he) and what happened when he was 16 years old. If possible, and if it isn't too much trouble, could you share some more information about his past?

So, Ray was basically raised in a government facility until he was 16. They had him train to be a hero (i.e., weapon of war) and 'collect' abilities. When the Southern War was carrying on a bit too long, the NAHA decided to deploy heroes, one of those heroes being Ray. This was to test his destructive ability and his loyalty to the NAHA. Ray 'succeeded' in the eyes of the NAHA, and as a reward (and a media distraction/ cover-up), he debuted as a hero when he returned from the war.

Ray was not given the tools or time to able to process his traumas from the war. Instead, he was immediately pushed into adopting the mask of Binary Star.

Ray at this time was also 'adopted' by Steel Sheriff because he was not yet an adult. Steel Sheriff did not want to adopt a kid, but seeing as he recently assaulted a woman in a cocaine induced stupor, his image needed a facelift. So once again, him 'turning a new leaf' as a dad to a lovely adopted superhero boy was GREAT media, and the people ate it up. Unsurprisingly, Steel sherrif did not become a better person nor turn a new leaf. He often ignored Ray, drunkenly bringing strange women and men to their house in the middle of the night, having arguments (verbal and physical) with these men and women. Ray sometimes having to break up the fights himself. Steel Sherrif only spiraled further, sometimes taking his anger out on Ray, who took it. Well, he took it until he didn't anymore.

There was no catalyst as to why Ray stood up for himself. Simply, at that moment, the numbness he felt started to outweigh the terror. Ray fought back, he fought back, and he won.

Steel Sheriff, from that point forward, ignored Ray completely and would hardly return home. Ray moved out of Steel Sheriff's home the minute he turned 18.

Ray to this day can't bring himself to truly hate Steel Sherriff. Steel was the one and only parental figure Ray ever had. Ray, at one point, resolved to confront and kill Steel Sherriff. He flew to Oklahoma, where Steel resides. When Ray finally saw Steel, he saw a pathetic, weak, withered old man. An old man who could hardly move and was dying from kidney failure.

Ray stood and stared for a while, frozen. What once was his object of terror and anger became no more frightening than a shot deer, dragging it's bleeding leg along to find enough shade to die. Steel called out weakly that he knew Ray came to kill him, and to just get it over with. Ray couldn't bring himself to look at the man any longer, he left him there alive and human. It's a complex feeling, one hard to describe or explain. I'm not even sure if it can be.

So that's basically Ray's story with Steel Sherrif. When I was originally planning out the story of BSH, I was mulling over the idea of MC going to visit Steel Sherriff to learn more about Ray. I decided it was better not to.

[magnoliasandarson]

now i lay me down to sleep

Catherine Todd was raised Catholic. Cathy the Catholic. It was one of the universe's great ironies how her life ended up. Jason remembered her now.

A few feet away was his biological mother. Watching as he was bludgeoned while smoking a cigarette, not a wrinkle on her botox-smoothed face. Even when Catherine was so strung out she could barely string a sentence together, she had looked at him like he was precious. Sheila, however, saw only a bug she had to squash in order to save her own hide.

He was dying. He knew it. For all of his refusal to let the Joker see him cry, he knew this was the end. He had failed, just like Bruce knew he would. This was what he got for trying to play hero. He thought of Catherine now.

She had sat him down and taught him how to pray the rosary when he was small. He must've forgotten it over the years. To be entirely fair, he'd never really believed her when she told him that the meek would inherit the earth. Not when Willis kicked the shit out of him, not when he was living in a dumpster, and especially not now, as he faced his inevitable end.

Catherine had believed in heaven and hell. Jason had wiped tears off of her face when she sobbed about how her failures in this life damned her. But when she died, Jason found himself hoping against hope that his Ma was in a nice place. Wherever that may be.

His lungs were punctured. He felt like he was drowning even as he struggled to breathe. Jason wanted to curl up into a ball- to escape for a second, but if he moved, then his shattered ribs would dig further into his organs. He closed his eyes to the demonic red smile and thought of Catherine Todd. She had prayed over him when she was sober. They would kneel on the floor next to their shared futon and she taught him to pray. Jason couldn't find it in himself to pray now.

Bruce probably thought Jason was going to hell. After all, the old man thought Jason had killed a man in cold blood. Jason had never read the bible or anything, but he was fairly certain that 'no killing' was a big one. He hadn't killed Felipe, he hadn't, but he hadn't saved Felipe either. Was that enough to damn him?

As the crowbar swung down to smash into the back of his skull, he thought of Catherine Todd. Was she waiting for him? Wherever she was? Would she smile at him and welcome him into her arms, or would she, too, be disgusted by what he had become?

When the bomb went off, and the flames and agony gave way to peaceful darkness, Jason basked in the feeling that whatever was next, he would find out.

Then he was drowning in toxic green flames and he knew.

Jason Peter Todd was damned.