#lux writes

[lux-interests]

For @queergodot. I was inspired by a few of their ideas so I hope they don’t mind I wrote something for one of them! I can’t remember if I sent this to them already, so I’m posting it here.

(Non disbarment, not written to be romantic, spoilers for aa3, especially bttt)

Phoenix didn’t know what exactly compelled him to visit Mr.Armando.  They hadn’t seen each other since that trial.  The trial where Mia and Maya’s mother died.  The trial where what was left of Dahlia had disappeared, only to be seen in case files.  The trial where Iris had come clean, finally telling him what she had done.  The trial where Diego Armando confessed to murder.  Phoenix didn’t like thinking about that trial, but it was hard not to.  Mr.Armando was surprised as well.  “Wright? Come down here to visit me?”  “I guess,” Phoenix replied, aware he still didn’t know why he was here or what to say.  He had the same confident smile as before, Phoenix noted.  The usual mug of coffee in his hand as well.  Phoenix wondered if they even had coffee in prison.  Mr.Armando noticed Phoenix glancing at his cup.   “The coffee here isn’t as good as my own blends. At least it’s bitter. I almost feel like I’m betraying Godot Blend 102,” Mr.Armando explained, taking a drink from his mug anyways.  “You said 102 was your favourite, right? Just how many blends do you have?”  “Yes. And  253. Each of them emphasizing a different type of bitterness. All of them are as dark as my soul. How do you drink coffee, Wright?”  “I don’t drink coffee often. Usually with a little milk.”  Mr.Armando slammed his mug against the metal shelf when he heard that.  Phoenix recalled he did the same thing in court.  “Coffee needs to be black and bitter! There’s no other acceptable way to drink it! Even a single drop of milk or grain of sugar can ruin a whole cup! You still have a lot to learn, Trite.”  “So I should start drinking black coffee, huh?”  “Yes. And none of that instant stuff. That’s not real coffee.”  Phoenix nodded.  “Noted.”  Mr.Armando finished the cup of coffee he was holding, and pulled another mug out from under the shelf.  Phoenix still didn’t know where they came from.  Visiting time was almost up, so they said their goodbyes, Mr.Armando telling him he could visit again if he wanted to.  Even though all they did was talk about coffee, Phoenix felt better than when he first arrived, and told himself he would visit again.  

The next time, they discussed the trial.  Mr.Armando told him about his own trial afterwards, where he was sentenced.  He had defended himself, admitting to the murder, but successfully convinced the judge it was justified defence.  He was charged with tampering with evidence.  He would have to spend 10 years in prison.  “Ten years is actually good, Wright, Mr.Armando had explained to him.  “Considering I moved the body, cleaned up blood… I even messed with the dagger… ten years is pretty good.”  That was one of the heavier visits.  The next time Phoenix visited, he told Mr.Armando about a significant change in his life.  As soon as Phoenix had gotten a total of one sentence out, Mr.Armando cut him off by nearly choking on his coffee.  “You have a what?!” Mr.Armando exclaimed. “I have a daughter now,” Phoenix repeated.  “How did that happen?!”  “I kind of just… adopted her a few days ago.”  Phoenix had explained the basic events of how he had acquired a daughter.  Mr.Armando gathered his composure quite quickly, and looked completely calm by the time he was done with his explanation. “You know Wright, some people just can handle the bitterness of coffee. When someone hands them the milk and sugar, they make the world less bitter too.”  “I still don’t understand Coffeenese.”  Mr.Armando barked a laugh at that.   The conversation shifted to Pearls when Phoenix mentioned she and his new daughter were around the same age.  

The next visit, they picked the conversation up where they had left off.  Phoenix told Mr.Armando how Pearls was doing, which eventually led to how Maya was doing.  “They took a break from Kurain and spirit channeling for a while, but they’re back at the village now.” “Maya began taking Pearls to therapy with her.”  “Coffeenese” became a regular joke for when Mr.Armando made up metaphors.  

The visit after that the conversation changed to another, certain Fey.  They exchanged stories about Mia.  Cases she had taken, the way she kept forgetting names, or breaking computers.  Phoenix had gotten used to the taste of black coffee, which he drank slightly more frequently now.  Mr.Armando suddenly got more serious.  “Wright… I should have said this at the end of that trial.  I blamed you for the longest time, but now I see what Mia saw in you. I’m sorry for all I put you through.”  “Mr.Armando… I forgave you long ago… Since my first visit here.”  “You better carry on Mia’s legacy as an attorney. And remember, the only time a lawyer can cry is when it’s all over.” 

[luxexhomines]

Master list of Works

Danganronpa Imagines:

Danganronpa 1

Penchant - Celestia Ludenberg

Super Danganronpa 2

Nagito Komaeda

11. i need you

3. [i] trusted [you]

Hajime Hinata

28. something about [them]

Kazuichi Souda

Typical Kazuichi

Multiple Characters

How lucky I am to have you - SDR2 Guys

Sorry for apologizing! - SDR2 Guys

Poly! Relationship w/ Kiyotaka & Mondo

S/O Serenades - Ibuki, Sayaka, Kaede

Always - Hajime, Makoto, Shuichi (x Body Insecure! Reader)

First Date Headcanons - Mondo, Kiyotaka, Gundham, Fuyuhiko

New Danganronpa V3

Kokichi Ouma

“You’re so persistent” - Ultimate Celebrity! Reader

christmas shopping

42. savior 

“You’re just too good to be true; I can’t take my eyes off you”

Comfort

15. trembling hands

40. pet 

Hanahaki Disease! S/O 

panta 

Colorful Encounter (1/?)

Childhood Friend! Ouma

a purple carbonated drink

Yakuza! S/O 

Protective! S/O (chapter 3 spoilers)

S/O who sees through lies (chapter 4 spoilers)

Confessing is Hard

Reunion (chapter 5 trial spoilers)

A Love that Killed (reader is killed)

Sweet (angst, implied death, cringey because this was my first imagine)

Shuichi Saihara

flustered 

Shuichi Comforts Reader (angst, chapter 5 spoilers)

Spring Will Come For You (unexpressed/unrequited love)

Maki Harukawa

Why can I no longer continue to stay at your side? (Maki past spoilers)

Rantaro Amami

24. tender - Rantaro

Multiple Characters/Other

you’ve never even ever cared about me - Kaito, Rantaro, Shuichi

Crush! S/O Painting Kokichi & Shuichi’s Nails 

Blackened! S/O - Byakuya, Teruteru, Korekiyo

happy birthday - Kiibo

S/O who gets catcalled - Tenko, Kiibo, Ouma, Kaede

NDRV3 Girls x S/O who takes the fall for their kill - Kaede, Maki 

NDRV3 Guys x Lust Disease S/O

I’m okay - NDRV3 Characters (worrying about Reader)

Here for You -  Hajime, Nagito, Shuichi, Kokichi, Kaede, Ryoma, Rantaro (x Self-harming Reader)

His voice was simply intoxicating. - Any DR chara w/ he/him pronouns

Danganronpa Character/Ship Ficlets:

Danganronpa 1

An Explosive Concoction of Hope and Despair (v.3) - Naegi, Junko, Kyouko

DR1 Cast After Killing Game - Touko, Kyouko, Kiyotaka, Byakuya, Celeste, Sakura, Aoi, Yasuhiro

Super Danganronpa 2

“Write a horror story where the protagonist just doesn’t give a fuck.” - Hajime

I had hoped to give you the world. - Hajme (light Komahina hint)

In the midst of despair, does light still come forth? - Nagito (light Komahina hint)

Danganronpa V3

let’s pretend we’re - Kaito, Kokichi (unfinished start of slow burn)

Sick Day - Kaito x Kokichi

21. collapse - Kaito x Kokichi (chapter 5 spoilers, angst)

Stars - Kaito x Kokichi (angst, vague)

Dualities - Kaito x Kokichi (unfinished start of pre-game slow burn)

playing this game - Kokichi, Miu (non-romantic, angst, chapter 4 spoilers)

a coward. - Kokichi

Sharing a Room with Ouma - Kokichi, Shuichi

sunbathing - Kokichi x Shuichi

Free Time - Kokichi x Shuichi

Boredom - Kokichi x Shuichi

1. don’t leave me - Kokichi x Shuichi (angst)

“But the truth is, I want to say out loud, ‘Don’t go.’” - Shuichi (chapter 1 spoilers, angst)

A world without you is unbelievably dull. - Shuichi (angst)

Mute! Kaede - Shuichi x Kaede (angst, H/C)

amamatsu - Kaede x Rantaro

A fantastical yet lonely sight - Rantaro (inspired by qosic’s art!)

SHSL! Student Council President - Maki Harukawa

If the NDRV3 Characters each played an instrument

Other Fandoms:

Love Live! School Idol Festival 

“What do you think?” - Honoka x Fem! Reader (platonic)

to be lost  - Yuu & Ayumu (non-romantic, episode 11 continuation)

I’ll Be Home for Christmas - Rin x Hanayo

Obey Me! One Master to Rule Them All

why did you have to betray him? - Leviathan x MC/Reader

married as - Leviathan x MC/Reader

Genshin Impact

An Unlikely Fascination - Albedo x Aether

Poetry:

My Love for You

for you whom morning never came (tw: death mention, loss)

we are alone (tw: death mention, loss)

[luxuriq]

Cardroom Tryst | McCree

> NS/FW warning <

Summary: “I’m going all-in,” he purred in a low voice as he pushed all of his chips to the middle of the table.

Words: 3,523

A/N: My fav OW husbando finally gets his fic. 💖

❀ — ❀  — ❀

After almost an hour of playing, it was down to the last three: and yet they didn’t seem nervous at all. Their expressions were stone-cold serious, their gazes devoid of any emotion as they carefully watched the dealer turn around the last card and set it down onto the table. It was a jack of spades.

The room was buzzing with nervous energy. The selected few who were allowed to spectate this match leaned forward in their seats, ready to witness the next play. The three men stayed almost completely still. One of them was rolling a chip between his fingers. One checked his cards again. One continued to chew on his unlit cigar.

Then they moved. The first one raised a considerable amount. The next one called after a bit of hesitation, which didn’t go unnoticed by certain individuals. The last one took his time, eyeing his opponents. Then he straightened up in his chair and scooped up all of his chips with his hands.

“I’m going all-in,” he purred in a low voice as he pushed all of his chips to the middle of the table.

Both of his opponents called. They flipped their cards over. He had the royal flush, the strongest combination in the game. He won the tournament, there was no debate.

~

Being a poker dealer had its share of pros and cons. Although many people would consider cleaning the sacred chamber where the player elite played poker an unwelcome chore, she didn’t really mind. Holding poker tournaments was family business and she was the member who usually got the most involved in the actual games, being a dealer and all that. She figured that she might as well stay with the cards until the very end and take care of everything during the non-game time as well.

She was just finishing up sorting the chips when she heard a determined knock on the door. The person on the other side didn’t wait for an answer. Large double-doors swung open despite their weight and the intruder strode in.

It was the man who won the poker tournament; this time with a charming smile on his sun-kissed face.

“My luck just don’t seem to run out. I was lookin’ for you, figured I’ll try this room first.” His voice was all confidence and honey, that lazy smile perfectly adding up to the overall impression.

He let the doors close behind him and walked further into the room.

She crossed her hands over her chest and raised an eyebrow at him.

“May I ask what would you like from me, dear sir?”

He stopped at a polite distance away and took off his hat.

“Jesse McCree, darlin’, the name’s Jesse McCree. I came to thank you. You were my lucky charm during the game, gave me all the good cards.”

The compliment wouldn’t have been complete without a wink when he called her his lucky charm.

She was used to men who came to play poker flirting with her. Usually, she politely refused all of their advances, but she hadn’t experienced such a smooth flirt in a while. Moreover, Jesse McCree (like she and everyone in the towns over didn’t know who he was just by looking at him, what a presumptuous bastard) looked pretty damn handsome if she were to say so. That is why she decided to have some fun and go along with it, at least for a bit longer.

“You want to thank me for not saying anything when you pulled that little trick of yours?” she teased.

Cheating in the game was usually punished by disqualifying the participant, sometimes even banning him from ever playing at their poker house again. Ironically, something like that had happened just before McCree’s dirty little play; and she caught the cheater, calling him out immediately. The guard, which was just your typical local thug, made sure to properly escort him out. McCree was quite bold to cheat under her watchful eye so soon after that incident.

McCree’s expression turned into that of a shock for just a moment, but it was enough for her to notice – poker sharpened her senses. He collected himself almost immediately, but she decided to continue.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that, cowboy. Nothing escapes these eyes of mine,” she said cockily, emphasizing it by pointing at her eyes.

The smile he flashed her next was pure charm and fake innocence – a smile of the devil, and he purred, “I’ve heard rumors of a vicious dealer with eyes like a hawk who is not afraid to call out the cheaters at all. Nice on the eyes as well. You have quite a reputation, sweetheart.”

“Same goes for you, Jesse McCree,” she raised an eyebrow as she resumed her work, this time gathering up the cards.

“However,” there was that lazy grin again, “I can’t help but wonder: why didn’t you call me out if you had seen me cheatin’?”

Ah. Now he caught her. She had perfected her poker face, however, so maintaining her innocent and slightly amused smile was a piece of cake.

“I guess I have a bit of a soft spot for you,” she admitted, looking at him through her eyelashes.

The cheat McCree pulled off was nothing major, just a skillfully swapped card to win the round and get more chips in order to play more comfortably through the rest of the tournament. She was also willing to admit that she liked having him around and that she wanted to see if he lived up to the rumors, hence letting his trick slide.

McCree’s smile turned smug, “Then I wasn’t wrong ‘bout you bein’ my lucky charm, darlin’.”

Then he beckoned to the cards she had gathered up, “Fancy a game?”

“You want to play with me?” she laughed lightheartedly, but her expression turned into a wicked one. “Alright. But know that I only play poker with something on stake.”

She sat down at the table and started shuffling the cards.

“Oh? Strip poker then?” He sat down on the opposite side of the table and leaned back against the chair.

She rolled her eyes and dealt each of them two cards, “Don’t be childish. We play with chips. Whoever wins gets something we agree on before we start the game.”

McCree helped her with the setup by arranging the big blind, small blind and dealer buttons between them. Meanwhile she distributed the equal amount of chips to both of them.

“So, if I win, I get you naked in my bed, all ready and willin’ for me to take,” he said casually, but his gaze was heavy, burning.

His crude words visualized in her mind and she could feel the heat rush into her cheeks. All this teasing that had been going on ever since he set foot into this room, his eyes shamelessly feasting on her body, and just look at that charming smile of his – it sure got her in the mood. There would be no real punishment if she lost. If she lost. Because she sure as hell didn’t plan on going easy on that cheeky bastard.

She shifted in her seat and shot him a challenging look, “Fine. But if I win, you give me the money you just won.”

McCree raised an eyebrow at her, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. He pulled the cigar out of his pocket and put it into his mouth, but did not light it.

He nodded, “Deal.”

And so they played. Being the dealer gave her a dangerous advantage – she was not only skilled at the game itself, but was also pretty good at cheating as this was the only way she could notice someone else doing it. She decided to have some fun with it and see if McCree really was as good as the rumors said; see if she could get away with it without him noticing. A pretty bold choice after just calling him out for doing the same thing.

She started weaving the net from the second round onward, a little trick here, some swapped cards there, her stack of chips began to grow slowly but surely, nothing too suspicious, no flashy plays. The cheat was inconspicuous as it was like building with one brick at a time, the results only showing themselves at the very end with a guaranteed victory. That did not mean, however, that McCree didn’t give her his own share of troubles with his indistinguishable bluffs and the devil’s own luck. At least he seemed to take the match seriously.

When all of their chips was in the middle of the table and they finally turned over their cards, she did hold her breath for just a moment despite the allegedly unbeatable cheat.

But she won. Just like she was supposed to.

A few seconds passed before the realization sank in and she jumped onto her feet and smiled wildly at McCree.

“I guess I’ll be wearing a really pretty dress tomorrow,” she grabbed her skirt and did a little twirl, pretending she was daydreaming about the new dress. Then a wicked smile appeared on her face, “Now pay up.”

McCree sighed and looked up at her with a smug, know-it-all expression, “That was some great cheatin’ you just pulled off there, sugar. You’ve got some real skills. But I don’t think givin’ you a reward would be fair.”

Her excitement died down a little along with her smile. He caught her. The rumors were true: he was one hell of a poker player.

She slowly sat back down, “I’m willing to make a compromise.”

Raising an eyebrow, he leaned forward onto the table, “Go on.”

There was a moment of hesitation before she continued, “You give me half of your reward money and I give you head in return.”

McCree chuckled, “Wouldn’t that just be me payin’ for a blowjob? And a pretty expensive one at that.”

“I guarantee that it will be the best one you’ll ever get,” she said with a wink and stood up. “Cheating at poker isn’t the only thing I’m good at.”

She circled around the table and stopped next to McCree.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” he said as he eyed her up and down with a glint of approval in his eyes.

He moved the chair away from the table and angled it so she could have easy access. She crouched down in front of him and went straight to undoing his belt buckle. When that was done, she pulled it out of the belt loops and stood up.

It surprised her a little when McCree stayed so still, so relaxed, even though her actions were a bit unusual. She circled behind him and pulled his hands to the back of the chair, tying them together with his belt.

She leaned down and whispered into his ear, “You’re not allowed to touch, okay?”

“Whatever you say, sweet pea,” McCree hummed.

As she walked around him to face him again, she let her hand brush over his shoulder and down his chest, relishing the feeling of taut muscles under the fabric of his plaid flannel. He tensed up ever so slightly when she reached the waistband of his pants and gave it a little tug. Dropping to her knees between his spread legs, she ran her hands up his muscular thighs. One of her hands continued its way over to his crotch and she gave him a little squeeze. She was not disappointed by what she felt.

Her eyes found his when she started undoing his fly. Pushing the underwear aside, she not so gently grasped his member. It needed some love before it was ready to go and she was more than willing to take care of that. Starting off with several quick pumps, she kept her gaze on McCree’s face. His breaths came in more frequently, with an occasional long exhale. His cheeks were beginning to gain more colour, but that cocky smirk on his face was still not going anywhere.

His member was quick to respond, growing under her ministrations. She leaned in, sticking out her tongue and giving the tip a little kitten lick. McCree shifted in his seat, his burning, hungry gaze glued onto her. It ignited a fire inside of her, made her core twitch in anticipation.

She grasped his cock more firmly and picked up the pace of her hand movements. Her tongue teased his slit, getting the first taste of his pre-cum and she hummed in satisfaction. Then she wrapped her lips around the head and began sucking gently, making McCree moan – a deep, rich sound that had her pressing her legs together.

Bit by bit, she took him in deeper, using her hand to make up for what she could not reach, and yet the base of his cock didn’t seem to get any closer. She paused for a moment. McCree was bigger than what she expected. A minor inconvenience but not at all bad news.

“Is there a problem, sweetheart?” McCree chuckled.

He knew, the smug bastard. Her cheeks heated up and she immediately went back to work, hoping to shut him up with her skill. Her free hand moved the fondle his balls and she could feel his muscles tense, a quiet groan escaping his lips when his hips jerked up.

“That’s right, sugar plum,” he purred, slightly breathless. “Just like that, keep goin’.”

Ignoring her gag reflex, she pushed down even farther and hollowed her cheeks. That forced another moan from McCree, his hips thrusting up to meet her mouth. Tears filled up her vision but she endured, staying in place while he slowly began fucking her mouth. She let him do it for a bit and then pulled away completely, using only her hands.

“Let me do the work. You just sit back and relax,” she purred in a teasing tone.

McCree chuckled, “Can’t really relax with that pretty little mouth of yours wrapped around my cock.”

She shot him a cheeky grin and leaned in again, repeating the process from before: suckling on the tip, then gradually taking in the rest of his length. When she felt him press against the back of her throat, she paused, then squeezed his balls and hollowed her cheeks. Hips bucking, McCree let out another delicious moan. The sound made her core throb. She could feel the steadily growing wet stain on her panties.

“I’m close, babygirl,” he breathed, his gaze burning despite his eyes being half-closed.

It was a split second decision. She pulled away, both mouth and hands, and got onto her feet.

McCree groaned, “Now that was a bit mean, don’t you— Oh.” He trailed off as he noticed her pulling down her panties from underneath her skirt.

She let them fall to the floor and glanced at him with both a question and challenge in her eyes.

“You’ll have to untie me first, darlin’.” There was that lazy smirk again.

She rolled her eyes, “We both know you can do it yourself.”

McCree just chuckled and stood up, rolling his shoulders and twisting his arms. This was a perfect opportunity for her to start unbuttoning his flannel shirt. She reached for the first button and swiftly undid it, then moved to the next one. By the time McCree managed to free his hands, his chest was already completely exposed. As soon as the last button slipped through the loop in the fabric, her hands were on his abdomen, slowly making their way up his toned body. His chest hair tickled her hands, but she continued even further up, until she was cupping his face, his beard rough under her fingers. She grinned at him as he looked at her with hunger in his brown eyes, and let go of him. She spun around and leaned against the poker table, her ass perking up invitingly.

McCree took a step closer, placing his hand onto her hip, then sliding it down her leg until his fingers hooked under the hem of her skirt, lifting it up. He brought his other hand to his mouth and licked two of his fingers. With them, he gently prodded at her sopping entrance and let them slide down her slit.

“All this just from sucking me off?” he teased.

She pressed back against his hand. It wasn’t just that. It was the way he looked at her, gaze burning, consuming her; the way he talked, the flirty banter making her imagine all the things he would do to her; the way he responded to her mouth and hands on his body, sounds of blissful pleasure shamelessly leaving his lips.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

McCree chuckled, “A bossy little thing, ain’t you?”

One of his hands was back on her hip while the other grasped his cock and guided it to her weeping cunt. Moving his hips, he slowly pushed in. A satisfied little moan slipped through her lips as his length filled her so thoroughly, and she arched her hips, pressing back into him. His hand, which was now free, glided up her back and settled on her shoulder.

She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck as he leaned in and purred, “The prize I had chosen … ‘t was the right thing. You feel so good, babygirl.”

Agonizingly slowly, he pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back in, making her gasp. She clawed at the table, desperately searching for something to hold on to as he repeated the motion a few more times.

“I want to hear how good I’m makin’ you feel,” McCree growled, the movement of his hips gradually getting faster.

She moaned loudly as she bucked her hips against him, eagerly meeting his thrusts. His girth was so filling, mercilessly stretching her velvety walls around him as he pounded into her. It made her dizzy with pleasure.

“Jesse, ah—” his name rolled off her tongue in such a tender way reserved only for one’s lover.

His thrust cut short and a brief pause followed. Did she catch him by surprise? The grip on her shoulder tightened as he pushed her down until he front was pressed against the table. His hand moved to the in-between her shoulder blades while the other reached underneath her.

A shock of electricity ran up her spine at the feeling of McCree’s fingers brushing over her neglected clit. With a soft moan she arched her back – a wordless encouragement for him to repeat the action. Ever the gentleman, he obliged. His fingers pressed down on her clit, drawing tight, fast circles around it. A shudder ran through her entire body, the knot in her belly tightening. The steady build-up suddenly turned into a sprint to the finish line.

McCree’s thrusts were getting faster by the second, his fingers skillfully teasing her sensitive nub. She could feel her sanity unravelling with every drag of his cock in and out of her, with every swipe of his finger over her clit, and every little praise he whispered into her ear. She clenched her fists and relaxed them again, the poker table not offering anything to grip or dig her fingers into as she gradually turned into a moaning mess under his ministrations.

“Almost there, sweet thing,” he purred, breathing heavily.

She wasn’t sure who exactly he was referring to, but it didn’t really matter. She knew she was close.

“I wanna feel you come on my cock,” he continued in a sinfully low voice. “C’mon now, darlin’.”

He pinched her clit and that was enough to finally make her come undone. She cried out his name as scorching hot pleasure surged through her body, making her back arch and toes curl. Through the haze of her high, she could hear McCree moaning almost in sync with her, his thrusts growing more and more rapid and erratic; until he stopped completely, pressed against her and reaching deep as he painted her walls with his release.

Her whole body trembled as the rush subsided and she was filled with a warm afterglow. She could feel McCree’s breath on her neck, could feel his weight shift, lift off of her as he stood up and slowly pulled out, his pearly essence trickling out of her along with it. A soft sigh slipped through her lips at the newfound feeling of emptiness. One of his fingers gently ran up her slit, collecting the seed flowing out of her and fingering it back in.

“You were amazing, doll,” he praised her in a low purr.

She hummed in delight, “You weren’t half bad yourself, cowboy.”

He helped her get back up on her feet, steadying her on her wobbly knees. She smiled at him, then went on to pick up her panties from where they lay discarded on the floor.

“If you’re ever up for round two ...” McCree blessed her with a particularly naughty smirk.

She grinned back, “I would love to play poker with you again. But next time no cheating. Both of us.”

❀

[arcturusthewayfinder]

[Teaser] The Sanctuary

The teaser for the first snippet of your journey has been released! Meet Arcturus the Wayfinder in this introduction to the Sanctuary, a choose-your-own-adventure story with fantasy elements and contemplative themes. The project has only barely begun!

Start reading the teaser here!

Feedback and questions are all welcome and can be shared here, Twitter, or via our Curiouscat, all linked in the carrd.

[lux-has-too-many-fos]

Maybe its just my Lack of representation speaking, but something about imagining my f/o's interacting with my culture makes me feel so... Warm and happy

Like, imagining me and Scout playing football (or soccer for you american saveges) in one of those dirty football fields, and ending up laughing in the ground, with dirt all over us

Or hearing Engie play "Pal que se va" o "Soy de la ciudad" In his guitar while I cook an asado and we fell the soft warmth of the fire

Cooking dulce de leche with Pyro, and never being able to finish it because its sweetnes is so irresistible we end up eating it straight from the saucepan while we softly giggle

Maybe sitting around a fire with Demo and playing the classic " chas chas chas, chas chas" while drunkingly signing songs that you would her in carnaval

And finally going to the rambla with all of them, and watching the sunset while drinking mate, listening to the sounds of the waves, feeling at peace and happy for a short moment

[monsieurlux]

I'm writing this book for him, because he could not do it, cannot do it. But I'm also writing this book for myself, to try to make sense of what Lucien was.

When visiting a friend at the Hôtel-Dieu clinic, Ulysse meets Lucien, a young man his age. He comes back the next day, and the day after, and the day after that. Years after their first encounter, Ulysse writes about these events and reflects back on his short time with Lucien.

[keistadashi]

title: this love hurts my heart (read on ao3 here!)

rating: explicit

fandom: haikyuu!!

relationships: tendou/semi

tags: implied ushishira

warnings: no warnings

summary: It was always the same.

                          No strings attached—

                                  No lingering feelings—

                                            No love.

The crack in Semi’s voice is what coaxed Tendou to look up from his final bottle. He stared for a few moments; head now tipped to the side. He could see the slow forming storm that loomed over Semi – could see the rain that trickled from his eyes…

It was always the same.

No strings attached—

No lingering feelings—

No love.

It was just sex.

Just sex.

Just sex.

It wasn’t like he was in love. Or at least, it wasn’t like he could act on his love.

Tendou and Semi had a very… complicated relationship.

It began a Thursday night after one too many beers.

Okay— Twelve too many beers.

Semi was a lightweight, so he was finished after about five of the piss-tasting drinks, but Tendou was able to finish the remaining seven without gaining as much as a subtle blush dusting his cheeks. The other, though… The other had a rough night.

A bad night.

A bad night.

His elbows were on the table, head resting in his palms.

He slurred about how he wouldn’t cry—

About how he wouldn’t act this way again—

But yet again, Shirabu had usurped him…

“Why does he take everything?”

The crack in Semi’s voice is what coaxed Tendou to look up from his final bottle. He stared for a few moments; head now tipped to the side. He could see the slow forming storm that loomed over Semi – could see the rain that trickled from his eyes… the cloud that began to blur his mind.

“Semisemi…” Tendou said in a softer voice. “Don’t say it like he means to—”

“I know he doesn’t, Satori!”

The sudden snap elicited a palpable silence between them. Tendou wasn’t offended by any means. He was more surprised than anything else.

“I’m sorry…”

Tendou shook his head. “Don’t be. You’re okay, Semisemi…”

The ex-setter slowly looked up, his glassy eyes meeting Tendou’s for a moment before glancing away.

“Am I unattractive, Satori?” An audible ‘pffft’ was heard from Tendou and Semi shot him a weaker glare. “I’m being serious!”

Putting his beer down, Tendou crawled over to sit beside Semi.

“My dearest Eita~” he purred in a playfully sweet voice. He reached out and cupped Semi’s cheeks, smiling. “Even like this, snot and all, you’re sooo~ pretty.”

Semi clicked his tongue. “Idiot.”

He leaned into Tendou’s larger hands, his eyes falling shut momentarily. Thick lashes dusted his pink cheekbones, fluttering slightly as he sighed.

The sight made Tendou’s chest oddly tight.

His mouth was dry.

That was when Semi’s eyes opened, and their gazes met.

That was when it began.

That was when Tendou threw fire into the wind—

That was when Tendou broke his own heart.

His lips were so soft but so hungry—

His hands were shaking slightly as he feverishly tugged and pulled at Tendou’s clothes; first his shirt, then clumsily fumbling with the waistband of his track-pants.

Their mouths were desperate; Panting—

Swallowing one moan to exhale another.

Tendou felt as if he was on fire the entire time—

Especially when he saw Semi beneath him:

His lips were swollen, His eyes were hooded, darkened with some sort of lust Tendou had never seen before.

“Make it stop, Satori,” came his broken whisper. Tendou had been fixed on the constellation of red and purple that painted Semi’s neck when the other had spoken. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore, Satori…”

His hand trembled, reaching up to trace Tendou’s heated cheek.

“Take it away, Satori… I don’t want to think about them anymore…”

His mouth met Semi’s palm, tongue rolling against the calloused skin.

“Leave it to me, Eita.”

[ndrv3-choose-your-own-adventure]

The Adventure Begins

Your lower lip quivered uncontrollably as you felt your eyes fill with a wetness that threatened to spill and add to the expansive pool of water on the cold floor below you as you sat there, soaking wet, chilled to the bone, shivering while you held yourself. Your uniform’s white dress shirt had long become see-through with the dirty bucket water that had seeped through your clothes, and there wasn’t an inch of your skin that remained dry. You couldn’t feel your toes as your socks clung to them within your black dress shoes, no longer polished or clean. Even as you heard their footsteps leaving the bathroom, clicking across the pale blue tiles, you could find no will to stand.

Then, you felt something soft and dry wrapped around you–a white towel, and you closed your eyes, letting a tear fall from your eyes in utter relief and releasing your pain as you leaned into the warmth and comfort before opening them once again, turning slowly to see who your savior was.

A girl with pastel pink eyes met your unsteady gaze, and for some reason, her white music note hair clips imprinted themselves into your mind as she moved toward you, a grave concern in those pretty pink eyes.

“Do you think you can stand?” she asks you, her voice quiet. You make an effort to move, but your legs have the strength of a newborn fawn’s as they tremble, noncompliant with your mind’s requests. She nods, seeming to affirm something in her mind, and then wrapping the towel more snugly around you, she stands. When you look at her in an alarmed, frightened manner, she’s quick to reassure you. “Oh, don’t worry! I’m just going to go fetch someone to help. I’ll be back right away,” she says, rubbing your back soothingly before dashing off, her long blonde hair chasing after her. She’s gone before you can say a word, but true to her word, she returns only moments later, with a rather...large gentleman behind her.

“Where hurt person, Kaede?!” he says, sounding panicked.

He was probably referring to you, but you didn’t have the courage or strength to respond, only barely lifted your head to meet his gaze, shrinking yourself smaller.

Kaede hurries to your side, and crouches down, looking you in the eye kindly.

“Is it okay if we have Gonta here carry you out of the bathroom?”

You took a look at the guy in question, who looked rather friendly for his intimidating size and wild, thick brown hair. You supposed if it was him, it was alright. He kind of looked like he belonged in the jungle, though. You manage a small nod, almost indiscernible, but Kaede perceives it astutely and gives Gonta a nod, who lumbers forward and bends down.

He has a second, wide towel in his hands and uses it to scoop you up from below, your back and crook of your legs supported by his sturdy hold. It’s clear that he wants to ask you some questions but is restraining himself as he walks out of the bathroom with you in his arms and Kaede trailing behind the two of you.

Eventually, the three of you come to a dorm room–Kaede’s, presumably, as she is the one to open it and it is filled with various pink and white decor. You are very gently set down on the very pink couch in a sitting position, which sinks down with your weight.

You stare at the coffee table in front of you, zoning out, and then a cup is set in front of you, steaming.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like to drink,” Kaede says. “But I figured something warm would be nice. You’re free to go take a shower in the bathroom, too, if you’d like.”

You take the cup in both hands, shaking slightly, and bring it to your mouth, blowing before taking a drink from it. It feels much warmer than it appears in your numbly cold hands.

Kaede approaches you, and seeing that you don’t seem averse to her presence, she sits down beside you carefully.

“Anything else you need?” Gonta calls from behind the two of you. “Gonta can go buy it! Gonta is gentleman after all!” When you turn to look at him, he offers a big thumbs up and a toothy smile, which somehow seems so adorably silly in his appearance that you giggle faintly.

Kaede seems to take comfort in your reaction, even though you have yet to speak, as it shows that you are able to smile after what conspired in the bathroom, so she smiles back warmly.

“Gonta’s just a big friendly giant, so if you do need anything, don’t be afraid to ask–from him, or from me,” she comments happily, to which you nod hesitantly.

It seems like you can trust the two of them, which you are immensely grateful for. What should you do next? Perhaps you should take a hot shower and clean yourself up? Or maybe gain a better sense of your surroundings by looking around the room and talking to Kaede? And then again, you could also ask Gonta to run to the convenience store and buy you something, like food or such. No matter what, though, you must dry yourself off or risk catching a cold.

[joejoeba]

the concept of rebirth is terribly underutilised in Jojo tbh

[teecupangel]

12 sm thought: Was reading the tags of the newest addition to the lucifer/ac and all I can think about now is Altair just staring down Lucifer as he gauges whether or not he's worthy of being Desmond's BFF

The Desmond becomes Lucifer’s BFF post that started this.

Lucifer just getting stared down via a video call from the afterlife by Altaïr would be so funny on so many levels because Altaïr knows Lucifer has no leverage at all.

If he does anything funny, all Altaïr has to do is tell Desmond, and Lucifer will have to suffer through Desmond’s look of complete disappointment. And Altaïr doesn’t fear him at all since he understands how Lucifer’s powers work and he knows Lucifer wouldn’t risk using it on him on the off-chance Desmond finds out.

So Altaïr milks the entire thing. He makes Lucifer squirm just because he can and Lucifer knows that. At the same time, he also knows that Altaïr is serious about this so he starts second-guessing which is an act just to rile him up and which is really Altaïr’s true feelings.

And you just see Ezio and Connor in the background of Altaïr’s screen with Ezio giving Lucifer a thumbs up sometimes.

Lucifer assumes that means he’s doing great.

Ezio is actually giving Altaïr a thumbs up on the parts where Lucifer gets it wrong or where Lucifer tries too hard.

Connor is just sighing and staying out of this entire thing.

Then it turns to chaos when there’s another incoming call and it’s Haytham who looks annoyed at being here. His face gets pushed aside and Edward comes into view and now Lucifer has to deal with two different kinds of a father-figure who has a lot to ask and who may or may not be working together to get the Devil to squirm like a teenager who is just meeting his (platonic) partner’s parents for the first time.

[lux-interests]

TW: aro/ace phobia

Maya was taking a walk along one of the paths to the various waterfalls that surrounded Kurain village.  This one was farther than the others, and often only used for special training sessions that lasted days.  Maya knew it currently wasn’t being used right now, so she wouldn’t be interrupted or have to explain what she was doing there.  The long walk was nice, since she wanted time to think while warm and dry before training under the rushing, icy cold water.  

Maya had just officially agreed to take up the role of master.  She had taken a while to decide, there were so many things to consider.  What the village expected of her, what was best for Pearly, could she handle all of that responsibility? …Did she even want to?  

In the end, she decided she could be the master of Kurain.  After she made that decision, one other aspect she had been pushing to the back of her mind had suddenly become relevant.  As master, she would be expected to have a daughter to continue the main family.  This was a whole other issue, one she wasn’t ready to deal with.  Would she be a good parent?  She had helped take care of Pearly, but she couldn’t shield her from the hate that had formed throughout the family, that had nearly ruined their lives so many times, because of the title of master.  Could she have children, knowing what could happen to them because of the branch of family they happened to be born into?  What if she had a son instead?  It was no secret that women are seen as more important than men.  What would his life be like?  

While those were concerns she had, they weren't the main issue. That was another matter entirely.  The real reason she tried to put this off is because the elders wanted her to have biological children.  She couldn’t just adopt a daughter like Nick had.  Her daughter had to have strong spiritual powers.  The elders, and the rest of the village, stuck very close to traditions.  Not that Maya thought there was anything wrong with most traditions, but she would appreciate it if they could be a little more lenient with this particular one.  Everyone is expecting her to have kids, and tradition says you need to get married to do that.  Maya didn’t want to get married, she never had.  Pearly had talked extensively about what she wanted her own future wedding to look like (and Maya's wedding too), but Maya had never done that. She has never felt any romantic connection to someone before.  

(Or maybe she has and just didn’t notice? The shows she watches make it seem obvious when someone is attracted to someone else, and that most certainly has never happened to her.  How would she know what romantic attraction felt like?  How could she tell if she had and just didn’t notice? When she tries to picture someone she would be attracted to, she can't pin down any specific features, or anything about them at all. When she tries to imagine herself on a date or doing something romantic with someone else, it feels so wrong that she has to stop herself from flinching at her own thoughts.) 

Besides, it’s not like she has a lot of men in her life.  Despite what Pearly may think, she didn’t want to have children with Nick.  She couldn’t put him through that, drag him further into this mess.  Nick’s like a brother to her anyways.  There's never been anything other than platonic camaraderie.

Other people in the village told her that she was still young, she would find someone eventually, the “right person” that Maya doubts even exists for her.  That she would find someone who would make her want to get married and have children.  When she thinks about marrying someone, all she feels is dread.  She doesn’t want that.  She doesn’t want that at all!  

(She secretly resents the people who keep telling her that starting a family is the perfect ending that everyone is looking for. As if there was no other way that people could be happy. As if they haven't married and divorced several times over, miserable every time it happened but making the same mistakes over and over again.)

It's no secret most relationships in the village end unhappily.  The men get frustrated or tired or off put by the inequality of how the different genders are treated, or that their families would be away for weeks at a time for training, and they would leave.  Abandoning their families, and leaving.  Maya’s own father had died. Pearly's had left her before she was old enough to remember that she had one in the first place.

She’s pulled from her thoughts as the sound of rushing water grew too loud to tune out.  She had arrived at the small clearing near a precipice, where cold, clear water was descending into the river below. Maya could feel the cool mist from where she was standing.  She watched the water rush down the river until it went out of sight where it cut through the forest.  She took off her sandals near the edge of the pond, adjusted her necklace, and waded into the fast flowing water.  There would be time to think on the walk back, she told herself as she clasped her hands together and closed her eyes.

[luxexhomines]

How would the V3 girls react to killing someone (accident, self defense or intentionally), but they didn’t know that they didn’t completely kill the person and their s/o killed them so the girls won’t be executed?

This was the oldest ask in my inbox, and I had actually started working on this request months ago, but I never actually finished it. I don’t feel able to really complete it, but I did do a short bit for Kaede and Maki. I’m just going to leave the request like this because I don’t think I’ll be able to finish the rest of the girls (and because my rules have changed since then to only have 3 characters and under). So here we are. 

I think I struggled a bit with this request, so it’s not really at the quality I wanted it to be, but I can only leave it like this, not having the energy to work on it more.

NDRV3 Girls x S/O who takes the fall for their kill

Kaede Akamatsu

When Kaede stumbled upon the scene of the crime with Shuichi and the others, she felt immense disgust and guilt. Not because she resented the killer–or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she did, that she hated the killer with every mite of her being. She had failed to protect everyone again, and as the perpetrator of this murder, she could feel bile rising in her throat as she stared at the result of her crime. 

Putting a hand to her mouth, she took a step away from the crime scene. Then another. She knew she had to stay calm, stay strong–and she should hardly be surprised at this point after all the killings and even more so because this one was directly related to her. But maybe it was because this one was exactly her fault that she felt such intense contempt for the crime and grief when her eyes were met with the sight of the body.

“Are you okay?” Shuichi asked, looking at her anxiously. “I know it’s always a lot to take in…” 

Oh, yes, it was a lot to take in. But in a much different way than usual. Instead of casting her suspicion elsewhere, she could only blame herself. Giving in to the urge, she asked for a reprieve.

“Is it okay if I go out for a bit? I’m not feeling too well.” 

Shuichi nods and turns back to the body, but not before telling her to take care of herself. How ironic, asking the killer to take care. Kaede staggered out of the room, nausea swirling at her core. She didn’t think she could investigate this one. It was simply too painful. There seemed to be more blood than before–but she must have been imagining it; after all, she could barely stand to look at the scene.Kaede ends up sitting out the investigation, while just about everyone looked around, including yourself. The couple hours allotted for investigation flew by, and soon enough it was time for the trial. 

Only about ten minutes into the trial, Kaede’s already feeling sick. She can’t hide this from everyone. She has to let them know the truth. Even if it causes them to hate her, or ends in her own death–after all, it’s only what a criminal deserves for their crimes. Even though she had failed to protect the victim, she could at least do her part and protecting everyone else from an undeserving fate.

“Everyone,” she says softly. 

Surprised, each student turns to her in kind. She hadn’t been around in investigation and hadn’t spoken up till now either, both of which was extremely unusual. 

“What is it, Kaede?” Shuichi questioned. He was getting a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. 

“I have to tell you all the truth,” Kaede says, trying to bring up her courage. “The true perpetrator of this murder is-”

You interrupted. 

“Me.” You take a breath in and then let it go slowly. “It’s me.” 

Kaede turns toward you, clearly shocked and confused. 

“No, that’s not what I was going to say! It was me. Why would you say it was you?” 

You shake your head, offering her a bittersweet smile. 

“All I can say is that the nature of this crime isn’t what it seems.” 

She can only stutter, utterly bewildered. “B-But… I did it! I killed them. Why are you doing this?” she asks. “Please don’t make this any more difficult for me than it already is,” she pleads. 

Shuichi’s gaze flickers between the two of you. 

“Why don’t you both run an account of what you believe to have happened?” he suggests cautiously. 

Kaede volunteers to go first, and she recounts it exactly as she remembers it. She went to the game room, and there she got into a fight with the victim. In a rage, the victim flew at her with a billiards stick, and she parried, hitting the victim over the head and accidentally killing them. They collapsed and did not get up. 

You tell your story next, which is almost the same–only you stabbed them at the end, too. 

Kaede’s bewildered once again. 

“I didn’t see a stab wound…” she mumbles to herself. 

Shuichi confirms your version. 

“There was a stab wound. I’d have to say that Kaede’s version is missing that.” 

But then Kaede finally understands. 

“Wait! S/O, you’re not really the killer. You just stabbed the body to make it seem like you did it,” she remarks in an epiphany. It hurts to say because it suggests that you almost got punished instead, but she realizes it must be true.

Except that it’s not the truth. The truth, as always, is much, much crueler. 

You shake your head stoically. 

“I didn’t want to say it,” you state. “But I saw it all happen when I was hiding in the game room, and the victim was still breathing when I stabbed them, which means that I killed them.” 

Kaede’s breath stops short. 

“W-What do you mean they were still breathing? You mean they were still alive?” 

You nod. 

“Yes, they were still alive. Barely.” 

She couldn’t believe her ears for once. And, by the looks of the others, neither could they. 

“What, why? Why did you do it?” 

You laugh derisively. 

“Kaede… How could I just watch you accidentally kill someone and get sent off to your death? I couldn’t let you die here. I couldn’t let someone’s death be purposeless! I need you to live,” you reply. “We all need you to live.” 

She can’t think of a response to your words. Her mind is short-circuiting, going crazy. When she only offers silence in response, all everyone can do is vote quietly and conclude the trial. 

“Congratulations! You’re right, once again!” Monokuma says cheerfully. 

Everyone is watching you. Kaede manages to meet your gaze. 

“You shouldn’t have done it,” she whispers. “You should have let me take the fall for my crimes. It’s just wrong!” 

You give her a hug, her usually strong voice wobbling and her eyes watering. She feels unbearably small in your arms right now.

“I did what I needed to do,” you answer. “I couldn’t let you go like that. You didn’t even do it on purpose.” 

She sniffs. 

“I know, but I still did it. It’s my responsibility!” She lifts her head and escapes your embrace, turning to the bear sitting above, surveying the current situation with amusement. “Monokuma, can I take s/o’s place in the execution? You saw what happened. I’m the person who killed the victim.” 

He laughs. 

“Upupupupu! Usually, I’d allow it, but it’s way more interesting to have you stay around, and they’re still the one who finished off the victim. Rules are rules, so let’s just start the execution now!” 

Kaede grabs your hands. 

“No, you can’t! It’s too early, and I’m the one who committed that crime. Don’t!” 

But you were ripped from her grasp mercilessly, and she was forced to endure watching your execution, just as painful as the previous trials. You mercifully killed for her, but you wouldn’t be killed mercifully. 

Following your death, Kaede continues to lead the remaining group to escape. There was no way she’d let a death like yours happen ever again. There was just no way. 

Maki Harukawa

Maki had never planned on revealing her identity as the killer. 

At least, not until you stepped up to divert the attention from her and claimed to be the killer yourself. And, with a start, she realized that not revealing her crime would lead to your death either way. There’s no option but for her to tell everyone the truth, even if it meant that the entire purpose of her having killed someone would be forsaken, that the whole reason for their death would be null and void. 

“Stop right there,” she interjects as you’re in the middle of a sentence explaining how it was you who killed the victim.

Everyone looks at her questioningly, as do you. 

“What is it, Maki?” you ask. What could she possibly have to say at this stage of the trial, at the closing argument?

“Don’t cover for me,” she says bluntly. “I’m the true killer. There’s no way s/o could possibly have killed someone.” 

The trial room explodes into chaos with everyone trying to talk at the same time. Somehow, Shuichi manages to calm everyone down. How he did it with as quiet of a voice he has, no one knows, but he does it, and Maki is grateful for that. 

“Why are you only coming out with this information now, Maki? Why admit it now?”

You nod, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“Yeah. It looks more like you’re trying to cover for me,” you smile infuriatingly, and Maki grits her teeth. 

“You know the truth, s/o. Why are you doing this?” 

You shake your head, meeting her gaze across the trial room, unfaltering. 

“It’s exactly because I know the truth that I’m doing this, Maki.” 

“You know that I’m the killer and want to get yourself and everyone else killed by covering for me?” she bites out. The one time she wanted to put her loved one before herself, and she was met with rejection. This was the last time she let herself show weakness in front of anyone.

“No, that’s wrong. I want to protect you and everyone else by showing them the truth of the culprit’s identity–myself.” 

She realizes that you’re not going to relent. Fine, then. Two could play at this game. The only way she’d get the truth revealed was to beat you with logic. 

“Fine. Then how did you kill them? What weapon did you use? Explain what happened from start to finish with as much detail as possible,” Maki challenges. “We both know I’ll know if you’re lying or making it up.” 

A side of your mouth quirks upward, and you nod. 

“Of course. That was what I was going to do before you interrupted me.” 

And you complete her request, flawlessly. 

Maki doesn’t know what to say. How could you have possibly known exactly how the victim was killed and where Maki even stored her weapons after the deed was done? Maki prided herself on being discreet. But somehow, you had figured her out. 

“I don’t see a problem with their logic,” Shuichi states. “What do you think, Maki?”

In frustration, she grips the trial stand before her. 

“That’s…! I know you must be lying,” she says, glaring at you. You weren’t often subject to her more deadly looks, but when you were, it was surprisingly more hurtful than it was terrifying. 

You shrug carelessly. 

“Where’s your proof, Maki?”  

Rendered speechless, she stares you down as you casually vote for yourself, and as everyone follows. There’s nothing else left to do at this point.

“And right again! You lucky bastards are just on a lucky winning streak, aren’t you,” Monokuma sweats. 

“How could this be?!” 

Maki was completely destroyed. She didn’t know how to feel about this situation. She knew- or, at least, she thought she knew the truth. She had briefly considered the possibility of Monokuma lying or not knowing the truth but quickly understood that he would always choose the truth because it would bring the most despair. 

The trial over, you walk up to her. “Hey… Could I have a hug before I go?” you say. 

She bites her lip. Maki didn’t know what you were playing at this entire time, but nonetheless, she loved you, even if it didn’t show all the time. She relented and hid her grief behind a curtain of apathy and anger. 

“Fine.” 

The two of you embrace, and although Maki is slightly stiff, you’re more than happy with this. 

“I love you,” you breathe in her ear, and she twitches. 

“...I love you too,” she says gruffly. “But I don’t understand why you would do this.” 

You separate from her, and you smile.

“Like I said, I love you.” 

Maki puts two-and-two together, and suddenly it all makes sense. You’d seen it all happen, so it was easy for you to insert yourself in the situation and for you to add on to the crime. Once the victim was finished off by you, technically you had been the perpetrator. And you’d done it so Maki wouldn’t have to be executed. 

“Wait! It’s not fair, it wasn’t you-” 

You put a finger to your lips and offer her another smile. 

“Shh,” you say as you get pulled away toward the execution site. “Don’t tell them.” 

With those last words of yours, Maki watches you disappear, and it’s the first time she’s felt so weak, standing there alone. She’d never needed anyone before. But right now, she needed you terribly. 

She was going to be careful the rest of this game, not to hurt or be hurt. She couldn’t take your sacrifice in vain. It would be too devastating, even if living on was almost as painful as dying.

[luxuriq]

The Victory Lap | motocross!Octane

> NS/FW warning <

Summary: When he's not competing in the Apex Games, Octane has some other hobbies that provide him with a decent amount of adrenaline rush. Lately, motocross has been one of his favourites. And when he wins, a nice reward is in order.

Words: 2,625

A/N: Dear Allfather, now that I have dedicated a whole fic to an Octane skin, pls grant it to me in-game as well, possibly from a random Apex pack.

❀ — ❀  — ❀

The race would soon be starting. The whole venue was buzzing with anticipation, excitement and last-minute preparations. There was music, beer stands and chitchat of the spectators. The engines were roaring, the smell of gas lingering in the air. Elbowing her way through the crowd, she made her way to the off-limits section, where racers and their teams were getting ready. Her destination: her lover’s travel trailer.

Entering with a knock, she found him in the last stages of getting ready – zipping up his blue-white jacket and pulling on the gloves. He looked up, his eyes finding hers.

“Came to wish me luck?” Octavio grinned at her.

“I came to tell you to be careful,” she said, closing the distance between them.

He met her half-way, locking his arms around her and pulling her close.

“You know me and careful just don’t go together.”

She sighed, “Have fun and win. For me.”

Octavio grinned, “That I can promise.”

One of his hands slid down onto her ass and he took a step forward, which in turn made her take a step back, and they proceeded moving like this until her back hit the wall. Octavio pressed his body against hers, cupping her cheek with a gloved hand. She bit her lip, looking up at him expectantly.

And then he was kissing her. She responded eagerly, parting her lips for him, letting his tongue explore her mouth, getting lost in the taste, the scent, the feel of him. His tongue piercing enhanced the experience, but by now it had become such a familiar feeling that she barely noticed it. He pressed himself against her more insistently, his free hand reaching down until his gloved fingers brushed over the exposed skin of her leg and pulled up one side of her skirt.

Shuddering under his touch, she bit on his lip, making him groan, and quickly pulled away.

“Not now,” she breathed, turning her head when Octavio went in to kiss her again.

“C’mon, chica. Why not?”

“Because the race starts in 15 minutes and you have to be ready and on your bike at least 10 minutes before that,” she rolled her eyes.

Octavio caressed her cheek, mischief in his dark eyes.

“Fast is literally what I’m known for,” he said with an alluring smile. “And you’re wearing a skirt … What – you don’t believe I could get you to climax in 5 minutes?” He raised an eyebrow, challenging her.

She sighed good-naturedly and pushed him away, “Go, Octavio. Win.”

He pouted, but went to pick up his helmet anyways.

“I could use some encouragement,” he tried for the last time. “And you, against the wall, moaning my name … yeah, that would do.”

She grinned, “That’ll be your reward for when you win.”

Octavio’s face lit up and he returned a devilish grin, “Then I better win this!”

~

Octavio won, exactly as he promised. Of course, he couldn’t have gone without his gravity and death-defying stunts that had her holding her breath, but everything turned out to be well in the end. And she couldn’t help but feel proud of him.

As soon as the race ended and awards were given to the winners, she was on her way back to Octavio’s trailer, hoping to get there before he did. The door was unlocked, but the trailer was empty. She entered and settled on the tiny sofa.

A few minutes passed. Then the door to the trailer flew open and Octavio burst through them, helmet in hand, jacket unzipped, a gold medal hanging from around his neck. He grinned the moment he saw her and crossed the distance between them in a few long steps. She only had the time to stand up and then he was pulling her into a tight embrace.

His lips eventually found hers, initiating a slow, passionate kiss that lasted and lasted, until they were both pulling away to catch their breaths.

“You’re all sweaty,” she tried to sound serious, but a small smile was insistently tugging on her lips.

He grinned, his arms wrapped loosely around her hips, “Well, I tried really hard to finish the race quickly and get back here as soon as possible. Can’t help a little sweat.”

“Congrats on winning. The stunts were a treat to watch,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow, a smug expression on his face, “If I remember correctly, I was promised a reward for that.”

She laughed, “You’re so impatient.”

Octavio chuckled as she spun them around, his back now to the sofa. Biting her lip, she smiled and pushed him back until his legs hit the sofa and he had to sit down.

“You’ll get your reward, don’t worry.”

She rested one of her knees against the sofa and teasingly pulled her skirt up a bit to reveal more of her thigh. He glanced at her leg and then he was looking her in the eyes again, a cocky expression on his face like he was challenging her to go through with this attitude.

Putting her hands onto his shoulders for support, she swung her other leg over his lap and straddled him. Due to her wearing a skirt, she almost got a full contact with the rough material of his racing pants, only the thin fabric of her panties in the way. It made her pussy throb in anticipation.

She leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then one to his stubbly chin. Lower she went, her lips slowly dragging down his neck and pressing little kisses everywhere she could reach. Occasionally, she nipped at his skin, drawing low groans from his throat.

His hands settled on her hips, his thumbs slipping under her blouse and absent-mindedly stroking her sides. When her lips reached the hem of his T-shirt, she pulled back and grabbed his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders. Octavio got the message and with their combined powers, they rid him of his jacket and his T-shirt. Only the medal stayed.

She put her hands onto his bare chest, just enjoying the warmth and feeling of his skin, then slid them down his torso, over his defined abs, until she reached his pants.

“Ready for another lap?” she asked with a seductive smile.

Octavio grinned, his eyes dark with lust, “I’m always ready, mami.”

Simultaneously, she moved her hands down to undo his fly and brought her lips to where his neck met his shoulder. She licked the spot before biting down and sucking until a red bruise surfaced. Octavio moaned lowly, his hands finding her ass and squeezing. She hummed in acknowledgement and pressed a light kiss over the mark she left. It looked good on his tanned skin.

While her mouth was busy leaving a mark on her lover, her fingers nimbly undid the fly on his pants. And when both of those things were done, she slid from his lap onto the ground, kneeling between his legs. She looked up at him and deftly pulled off her blouse, showing off her new lace bra.

“You’re a beautiful view, reinita.”

His voice was sinfully low and she shifted under the weight of his intense, hungry gaze, her legs pressing closer together, trying to relieve the tension. But she didn’t let him distract her.

She flashed him a naughty smile and pulled down his pants and underwear – Octavio helped her a little by moving – just enough to free his already hard member from fabric’s constraints. She slowly wrapped her hand around his shaft, all the while maintaining eye-contact.

His lazy grin hasn’t faltered yet. Still pretending to be in control, huh?

Bringing her lips closer to his cock, she spared it a brief glance – long, curving upward, sporting a frenum piercing, a nice pink head already oozing pre-come – and licked her lower lip. Hovering above it, she opened her mouth and leaned down, her lips closing around the tip and sucking up the salty liquid.

Octavio hissed, his body tensing up. She pulled back and grinned at him. Then she started moving her hand up and down.

“Tell me,” she licked his shaft all the way from the base to the tip. “Did you fantasize about this while you were out there racing?”

While watching him carefully through her eyelashes, she took him in her mouth again, her tongue flicking his piercing. His head was thrown back, his eyes almost closed, his lips parted.

“You never left my mind,” he lifted his head and met her eyes. “I imagined coming back here—”

His breath hitched when she added her other hand to the mix and started massaging his balls.

“—throwing you onto this sofa and tearing off that skirt.”

She hollowed her cheeks, making him groan.

“Your panties too,” Octavio panted. “You were dripping wet, all ready for me.”

His hand cupped her cheek.

“But still I held down your hips and licked you clean.”

It was her turn to moan as she vividly imagined his every word. But her hands never stopped working her magic on him.

He chuckled at her reaction, “I rubbed your clit, exactly the way you like it. Hard …”

Her hand stopped fondling his balls and moved to her own heat instead, finding her sensitive nub and pressing down on it. She grunted at the relief, but it was short-lived.

“Fast,” Octavio continued, grinning, but his breaths were shallow and quick. “Tight circles.”

Her fingers moved exactly as he described and she found herself moaning again, her hand on his member losing its rhythm.

“Mm, nena, am I making you feel good?”

She abruptly pulled away, a string of saliva connecting her lips and the tip of his cock.

“Fuck you, Octavio. And fuck me already,” she hissed.

He hummed, “With pleasure.”

Then they were both standing up, Octavio offering her a hand to help her up. There was a brief confusion about who was going where until she eventually found herself on the sofa, lying on her stomach, her ass up in the air and supported by the hand rest. Her skirt and panties were pooling around her ankles, Octavio somehow having managed to pull them down.

He squeezed her ass cheek with one hand and spread her open. His fingers ran through her folds, an effortless glide due to how slick she was.

“All that just from blowing me?” he teased, his fingers pressing against her entrance.

The very tips slipped in and he did a quick scissoring motion.

“You don’t know what I was doing while I was waiting here for you,” she challenged him back a little breathlessly.

Octavio pretty much growled and the next thing she knew, it was his member pressing against her entrance instead of his fingers and then he was buried inside of her all the way to the hilt. It was like he thrust all the air right out of her, making her gasp.

Then he started moving and she moaned loudly, not holding back. The feeling of him inside her, rubbing against her sensitive walls with his length, his frenum piercing a magical little perk – it was like it always was, but that was exactly how she wanted it and it was beyond amazing. But it wasn’t just that that she was feeling in this heated moment, it was also her love for him that warmed her heart, her chest, threatening to burst out. Everywhere he touched burned.

Octavio immediately set a punishing fast pace, his hands holding her hips firmly in place while he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“You feel so good, mami,” he groaned. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Tav," she panted, her hands curling into fists in a futile attempt to hold onto something.

He hummed and pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades, his hands snaking up her body, caressing her warm skin. One of his hands pushed up her bra and squeezed her breast while the other ran down her stomach. She shuddered at his touch.

His pace wasn’t letting up, even when his chest pressed against her back, his hand covering one of hers and entwining their fingers. She could feel his warm breath on her ear and by the frequent huffs, she could tell that going this fast was making him at least a little breathless.

Octavio’s other hand found its way to her clit and started rubbing quick little circles over it. She moaned, her body trembling underneath his. She could already feel the build-up of her orgasm in her lower belly and it was rapidly increasing. She knew she wouldn’t be lasting long.

He squeezed her hand and planted a kiss onto her shoulder.

“So what were you doing while waiting for me?” he murmured.

She chuckled, “The thought of me starting without you … bothers you this much?”

“I just want to make sure my fantasizing is on point.”

“I didn’t do—” He hit a particularly good spot inside of her, making her moan. “—anything, but … would you like to … watch me next time?”

The hand working on her clit stopped momentarily and she knew her request got him.

Then he pinched her nub, making her cry out, and continued with his assault of harshly rubbing circles. Angling his hips a little, he hit the sweet spot inside her again and by this point, she was begging for release.

“You are a tease, reinita,” he groaned into her ear. “I will gladly watch your little performance when we get home after this.”

“Alright,” she panted.

He hummed, “Good. Now come for me.”

She’s been walking a thin line for a while now and didn’t need much more encouragement. Nor stimulation. Especially with Octavio repeatedly hitting every good spot inside of her and his fingers continuously abusing her clit.

“Ah,” he moaned suddenly, his thrusts suddenly losing their rhythm. “C’mon. Together.”

He squeezed her hand and with one more thrust, she was swept into a vortex of pleasure with his name on her lips. It was like fire and electricity meeting and running rampant through her body. She was burning up with sweet pleasure, her muscles contracting, toes curling, head spinning.

Distantly, she heard Octavio moaning too, his hips suddenly stopping and then more warmth spilt into her as he reached his high as well, timing it perfectly with her. He stopped rubbing her clit, instead using his hand to support his weight, his lips frantically pressing kisses to her neck and back.

“Te amo,” he whispered in-between kisses, repeating it again and again, after every kiss.

“I love you too,” she whispered, her high gradually calming down.

She was still breathing heavily when the warm afterglow settled in and she began craving a gentler touch. She tried to move, to turn around, so she could say those words again while looking into his eyes, so she could feel his mouth on hers, but she was still mostly squished underneath him.

Octavio quickly realized what she was trying to accomplish. He stood up and pulled out, causing some of his essence to trickle back out. Then he was sitting down on the sofa and pulling her onto his lap.

She looked at him and cupped his face, “I love you, Tavi.”

Then they were kissing, but it was nothing like how they had made love earlier. They moved slowly, enjoying the intimacy of the moment, shared gentle touches and soft caresses. Octavio wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close, while her fingers trailed down his jaw and neck.

“We should do this again, after every race,” he said when their lips finally parted, a lazy smirk curving his mouth. “Only next time, even faster.”

❀

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Honor Walk (LU in Healthcare)

Wild paused from cleaning equipment when his pager buzzed. Grabbing the work phone, he read the text and squinted at it a moment.

"What is it?" one of his coworkers asked before their own phone buzzed.

"Honor walk," Wild said softly. "But the unit... isn't that the STICU?"

"Yeah, it is."

Pocketing the phone, Wild threw away the wipe he'd been using. "I'm gonna go."

His coworker watched him curiously. "STICU is a long walk from here. You know the person?"

"It's an honor walk, isn't that reason enough?" Wild replied. "Besides, it's not the patient... I just figure support's needed."

XXX

The cabin was still dark as Sky lit the candles. He had only just gotten home from work, and though he would have to go to bed soon, he knew what the start of the day would bring. He'd been one of the few people who'd had a chance to talk to Four over the last few days, after all.

It was a cold December morning. The cabin had a chill to it, bitter and damp and piercing. The darkness did little to help, and he refused to turn on the lights and shock his system.

One candle, then two. Two weeks into a season of penitence and preparation. Two weeks left before a feast of hope and joy. But, for now, the darkness held a choke hold on the world, blanketing it in a dull ache that was held at bay by the blazing light of two little burning wicks.

And this morning they were in honor of something more than that as well.

Sky sat on his knees on the floor, his face cast in the shadows of the dancing lights. Bowing his head, he closed his eyes and prayed. He prayed for the soul to rest in peace. He prayed for the family to find healing.

And he prayed for Four.

XXX

It had been a long three days.

Day one had been the admission. Nineteen-year-old female involved in a motor vehicle crash. Unrestrained. Skull fracture, subdural hematoma. Neurosurgery had done what they could. It had been a struggle the entire shift to maintain a good ICP, to ensure that the bleeding didn't restart. She'd been so labile, her blood pressure had been all over the place. Pressors on, pressors off, antihypertensives on, antihypertensives off, crystalloid fluids, and so, so many blood products.

After ten agonizing hours of standing in the room unable to leave the bedside, asking for people to bring him things as the situation changed on a minute by minute basis, Four had thought she was starting to stabilize.

Day two had been the decline. She'd had a seizure overnight, and had another one at shift change. The team had decided to pause her sedation to get a neuro evaluation on her. She spent eight hours without any kind of medication that would make her sleepy or altered in any way while being intubated, having a probe in her brain to measure pressure readings, and part of her skull removed for swelling, and she hadn't even flinched.

Four knew what that meant. But the family didn't. And so they'd had a meeting.

Day three had been the decision. Aside from the brain death, her only other injuries had been a wrist fracture and a femur fracture. Her other organs were essentially, miraculously, intact, and her license had indicated her wishes in that regard. Coordinations and preparations had to be made. The family had to be given time. Four stood just outside of the room as her parents, siblings, uncles, aunts, grandparents, and cousins filed in little by little. Whispered words of love to her and to each other.

It had all been so sudden. They'd had so little time to process it.

He was so damn tired.

He moved carefully, reverently, as he cleaned her up. Her parents were still in the room, crying silently in the corner. He transferred the little computer brick that had all the patient's vital signs to his portable monitor. He had emergency drugs ready in case she coded. Daphnes was ready to maintain her airway and move the ventilator as they walked - Wind had been assigned another patient for the day, a mercy on Daphnes' part but clearly frustrating to the young student, who had stated he didn't need to be coddled. Four didn't have the emotional energy to feel much sympathy for either party at the moment.

When everything was in order, Four and the rest of the team, a tech and RT, started to head out with the patient, moving her bed along. Her parents walked behind them. Everyone in the surgical trauma ICU lined the walls, pausing for a moment as they passed, honoring the family, the patient, and what was about to happen.

She was an organ donor.

When they exited the unit, the hallway leading to the elevator was packed. Four maintained his composure as best he could, keeping his eyes straight ahead. Just as they reached the elevator, he caught sight of a familiar scarred face, and his eyes immediately locked on to see Wild watching him solemnly, hands clasped in front of him respectfully. His friend gave the smallest of smiles and a little nod of support.

Four bit his lip, hastily looking away, though not before giving a thankful smile in return. Tears burned in his eyes, but he held it together as much as possible.

When they finally made it to the OR, he handed care off to Malon, who put a hand on his shoulder, her gentle concern evident in her eyes. Four reached up and took her hand in his, his grip tight. They stood there a moment, sharing strength, and then he let go, leaving the patient behind for the last time.

[gayandfullofdismay]

Batfamily Mafia AU Headcanons

(That kinda turned into a ficlet…)

How Police Approach Them

More than once the GCPD (and sometimes even other police departments too) have sent in officers to talk to Don Wayne’s children. They always seem to think that they can be turned, that their adoptive father is abusing them, that children will be the easiest to make see the error of Wayne’s ways, or something else in that line of thought.

It never works out very well.

Dick Grayson

When he’s still a child Gordon tries, oh Gordon tries, endlessly to get him away from Wayne. Every part of the fostering process he’s trying to sabotage it, bringing out every single bit of dirt he can on the man.

It’s enough to get him properly on Don Wayne’s radar for the first time. It isn’t enough to stop him.

There isn’t a judge in the city Bruce isn’t willing to bribe or… convince to his side and there’s not anything concrete enough for Gordon to pull out as evidence. So, little Richard “Dick” Grayson becomes Wayne’s ward, and Gordon spends every day of his life regretting it.

(They try to approach him when he’s a kid. He seems confused, unsure, but he remembers the nice man with the mustache who helped him, and he tells him happily, smiling about how “Bruce” is teaching him all kinds of fun games and shows him the little knife he carries in his pocket now that “B” is teaching him how to use.

Gordon tries, he really tries, but-

But.

Don Wayne is that boy’s savior, and loyalty conditioning like that, isn’t something he can fix in a few minutes of talking and-

Well.

After his third conversation with little Dick, where the boy finally seemed to understand what he was saying, how serious this was, seemed almost, finally scared, he wakes up to a lock of hair on his bedside table.

His daughter - his daughter, his daughter, his daughter - comes to breakfast confused with a chunk at the front of her hair missing.

He doesn’t try again.)

Different officers get sent to talk to him over the years, and over pin cameras and taped on wires, Gordon sees little Dickie (he’s as old as Barbara, he’s as old as Barbara) grow taller and settle into that smooth, predatory walk that Wayne seems to have down to a T. He sends every officer away with info that sends them on goose chases and weaves a wildly different story and persona for each one of them, and when the boy is 17, Gordon watches him seduce a man and lead him like a blinded fool to where Wayne sits with a gun pointed at him.

One more officer follow him and two more are pulled into defecting before Gordon stops making the same mistake. Dick Grayson is Wayne’s now.

(But Gordon never forgets the boy who smiled on a trapeze and hugged him like he was falling apart. He can never quite convince himself to think the boy he knew was dead.)

(He never quite forgets the first boy he failed.)

Jason Todd-Wayne

The second time it’s different.

Jason Todd is a street rat that Don Wayne pulled off the streets. Wayne saved him, but he isn’t his savior. Todd-

(This is another mistake Gordon doesn’t repeat. He’s Todd, not Jason, not just a kid, not little Dick-)

- looks at everything with suspicion and walks like he’s just waiting to get tossed back to the streets. He doesn’t look at Don Wayne with any of the starry eyed devotion that Dick Grayson, Grayson, Grayson, always had, just a healthy mix of fear and suspicion that Wayne pretends not the see.

(Gordon doesn’t let himself hope but- but-)

He sends a plainclothes officer to talk to him, a wire, a camera, and a comm painstakingly affixed with strict instructions to do whatever Gordon and command tell him immediately.

He sits down across from Todd at a library table while his adopted “father” speaks on his phone outside and the boy sneers before his man even speaks.

(Gordon’s heart sinks. That was his first mistake: thinking there was every any hope for one of Don Wayne’s boys.)

He still tries, sends a few more officers to try and impress the situation on the boy, offers money,, plea deals, witsec, and every other thing in the book and outside of it. Todd sneers at half his officers and sits tight lipped with the rest, fingers twitching towards the sleeve Dick had shown him his knife from all those years ago.

And then Jason Todd-Wayne is dead, half the city’s underground goes to ground or floats up the river in the morning. Gordon didn’t let himself hope. He holds his daughter tight that night and doesn’t send her to school for a week.

He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again.

————

I’ll continue this in another post and maybe elaborate this into a proper little one shot but I was too lazy to really write all the dialogue I was kind of imagining for this scene so

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[monsieurlux]

I originally had a plan. But the minute I stepped into the city, this plan of mine, so neatly put together with all the care in the world -- it shattered completely.

Ulysse finally makes it to Paris, lost and unsure about his future. He meets Lucien one evening and, as cliché as it may sound, his life changes.