#no chance of misfiring or anything

[pinnithin]

had to explain to my new psychiatrist that the reason i have an unlocked unregistered loaded firearm in my home is not at all for suicidal reasons and i was just raised in missouri

[nariism]

letters from heaven — g. satoru

"i think i'm in love with you" + "wait, don't pull away... not yet." + oblivious pining

synopsis. love tastes like chocolate ganache topped with fresh strawberries. that was satoru's first thought when he accidentally blew your cake shop into smithereens.

wc. 2.4k

— for the lovely @hanrinz 🎀 | event masterlist ✉️

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

If you had asked Gojo Satoru what love tasted like two years ago, he would have answered with a lump in his throat.

Like curses, he would have told you. Like death and destruction. Fire and ash. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Satoru was surrounded by love from his very conception.

Wrapped in silk blankets and bathed in warm milk when he was born into this world—it was as if the nurses thought he had been spoonfed ambrosia by the gods themselves.

He knew what it was like to have his entire clan at his feet with their foreheads pressed to the floor; to be dressed in the finest cloth and only by the most nimble hands; to get anything and everything he ever wanted without question. 

He was above everyone and had the eyes to prove it. He knew love like it was his only purpose.

Satoru was always a head in the clouds kind of guy. He understood his place in the world better than anyone else. That he was special. Gifted. Born with a blessing that only happens once in a millennium.

He hated the righteous above all. The ones who wanted to change the world that was promised to him from the moment he took his first breath. It was insulting; an act of defiance against the gods. Against him.

That is why he hated Geto Suguru—someone who wanted to change the world.

Satoru believed that he was too down to earth. It irritated him. But he never stopped being surrounded by love and never stopped loving, either.

For some reason, there was a strange comfort in standing alongside another. 

Perhaps it was that Suguru had never once bowed down before him—the fact that he had gotten the chance to memorize every inch of his beautiful face. Or maybe it was the tender way he had spoken his name, so soft and filled with adoration.

For the first time in his life, he felt like he was more than just his eyes.

Satoru adored and despised every part of Geto Suguru. He always would, even in death.

He thought that secret would die with him. That there was no one else worthy of standing by his side. He never thought he was capable of loving another again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

(He was about to learn that love would loom over him wherever he went. It would chase him relentlessly, even if it were to the ends of the earth.

After all, Gojo Satoru was born to be enveloped in silk and sugar and everything wonderful in the world.)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Love tastes like chocolate ganache topped with fresh strawberries.

That was Satoru's first thought when he accidentally blew your cake shop into smithereens with a misfired blast of energy. 

There was nothing particularly spectacular about you. There you were: horrified, head in your hands, crying over the phone to what he presumed to be your parents. He'd never seen someone doused in flour like you before, as if you had been plucked straight out of a cartoon.

Yet he remembers that his breath was stolen from him the way books described it.

Your very existence felt like it was built up from cubes of sugar. He was embarrassed that it was his first impression while you glared horribly at him.

The lawsuit came in the mail a few days later.

He paid, of course, without argument. And he tried to get your number afterwards because he really wanted to try that cake you were decorating before he blasted your shop to pieces.

You slapped him across the face and he let you. He even released his technique just so you could.

To your dismay, he kept showing up at the shop after it had been rebuilt. But he was a paying customer, and who were you to deny him a slice of butterscotch pie?

Still, he laughed at your ever-growing irritation with his presence. How he would preorder cakes days in advance just so you could anticipate his arrival. The way he would drop an extra five thousand yen on the counter and tell you to keep the change.

"Don't make me get a restraining order," you had once threatened him while he browsed the cupcake selection for the day.

"You wouldn't," he sang. And you didn't, because he knew your type.

You were the opposite of the one he loved most in the world. You wanted to make as little of a splash as you could—to bake pies and frost cakes with buttercream roses and wipe down your counters until they sparkled.

You knew your place in the world just as much as he knew his. And it seemed to be right behind the counter with a scowl on your face because of another poor attempt at flirting.

You didn't want to change the world. You just wanted to live in it, flour and all.

He found comfort in that, too.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Satoru became your midday companion when business slowed down. The sound of the bell strung to your front entrance brought you comfort when you were stressed about your little shop.

A part of you knew that this man was no ordinary human being. His eyes shimmered bluer than the sky when he would look at you with affection, nearly making your knees buckle beneath you on more than one occasion.

"What do you do at work?" You asked him curiously one afternoon as he sat on a stool watching you mindlessly pipe frosting.

"...Nothing important," he panicked, the thought of scaring you away when you had just started opening up to him too much for him to handle.

"Nothing important," you hummed, repeating his words until your eyes narrowed. "You're lying."

"I am," he admitted shamelessly.

You looked at him in confusion, not missing the way he avoided making eye contact by burrowing his head into his arms. Through the glass of your display case, you could see his shoulders bunch up in distress.

You decided to drop it. It wasn't important.

"Here," you said softly, reaching around the glass separating you to place a dessert in front of him. "Don't worry about it."

Satoru gazed at the plate before him. Chocolate ganache and strawberries layered between sponge cake.

"This is for me?" He asked, poking at it with the fork as a grin split his cheeks.

"Just for you," you smiled. "As an apology for slapping you."

"I deserved it. I blew up your shop."

Your smile only deepened. "Sometimes things need to be destroyed to be rebuilt even better."

The strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer of his time was reduced to a puddle at your next words,

"I met you, after all. Didn't I?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Love tastes like champagne-raspberry truffles and cappuccino chocolates.

On the day he planned to confess, you unconvincingly glared at him as he approached you with his hands behind his back.

You pursed your lips, expecting him to demand you make him something out of season. Outlandish requests were not new from him, but you always managed to whip up something that had fruits imported from South America, or using that expensive hojicha he insisted you take off his hands.

Instead, he held out a box of lavish chocolates he bought in Belgium.

Nervousness replaced the confidence that was permanently etched into his every feature, and your expression melted into something mellower than the warmth simmering in the pit of Satoru's tummy.

He had been pining for you for months. There was something about your company that made him feel whole again—more whole than he had been in all the time since Geto Suguru left this earth.

You laughed as if it were a joke, using your palm to hide how you flushed slightly.

"Satoru..." You quirked a brow. "What's this?"

The way you said his name stuck arrows through his heart. You could act like you hated him all you wanted, but the way you smiled at him when he wasn't being a prick was enough for him to feel comforted.

"Chocolates from Europe," he straightened up, trying to shake off his nerves.

"Why?"

Why? His tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth and he sucked on it in anxious thought, suddenly unsure of the right thing to say even though he had practiced all night.

Wasn't it obvious that he liked you?

You took the box from his hands and placed it down on the counter. Then you rounded it, picked up your spatula, and continued folding your meringue.

Satoru's silence made you glance back up, scrutinizing his downcast, troubled expression. You huffed through your nose with an exasperated little shake of the head.

"Save some nice things for yourself, too."

He was surprised when you reappeared in front of him. His eyes trailed from your sneakers, up your dirty apron to your smiling face.

Chocolate was melting between your fingers.

His grunts of protest were muffled as you stuck the treat against his lips, forcing it into his mouth. He glared at you, but ate it anyway.

Sugar coated his tongue and eased his nerves. You only laughed at his fluster.

He pinched your cheek.

You didn't know that Satoru already had everything else he ever needed. The only thing left was standing right in front of him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Love is easy to taste when it's on your lips.

At least, that was the thought driving Satoru insane.

He didn't know when such an obsessive idea started plaguing him, or how to remedy it. For the first time in his life, he felt like a boy with a silly, childish crush.

Worst of all, you seemed none the wiser. All his attempts to make a move on you fell flat—though, he wasn't very good at following through with them in the first place.

It culminated in his final attempt to rid the terrible thought from his mind: he was going to avoid you at all costs until it blew over.

If he could just have the time to get over you, to move on from his feelings, he could probably act with some normalcy around you again. It was tiresome to tread on eggshells around you, even if you were blissfully unaware of it.

You, however, did not take his avoidance very well. He did not see that coming.

Satoru's phone rang at 3:24 am, well past your store hours. In fact, you were supposed to be waking up in another hour and a half to get all your prep done.

"Hello?" Your timid voice crackled through the static of his phone and he jolted upright, fisting his blanket in anticipation. "Satoru? Are you up?"

He swallowed thickly, mouth moving to formulate an answer with a strange amount of effort. "Yeah," he said, voice hoarse from sleep.

The other end of the line was silent for another moment before there was a loud crash, and he could make out the distinct clatter of metal bowls hitting tile.

He could imagine you standing there in defeat, surrounded by dirty dishes and drowning in work, trying to catch up for the next morning.

The thought was enough for him to rip out of his sheets, a flurry of limbs as he got dressed to find you.

"Hang on," he told you over the phone, then hung up.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You had not anticipated that Satoru's very obvious avoidance would take such a toll on you.

You'd let it escalate until you were overwhelmed with emotion, unfocused at work, and not able to untangle the feelings you had for him.

And now he was standing in your shop again, helping you pick up everything you had clumsily scattered across the ground.

Whipped cream and icing spilled on the floor, painting the tile an array of pastel colours. You grimaced at the mess, thinking maybe you should just close the shop for the day and take a vacation.

Satoru was dutifully wiping up cream as if he were being paid to do it. But he wasn't—he was just too kind to you. Too generous. You desperately wished he would get mad at you for waking him in the middle of the night.

Instead, he only seemed concentrated and slightly concerned.

"That's enough," you told him quietly, standing up to discard the towels you used. "I'll clean up the rest tomorrow."

Satoru stood up with you, trying to decipher the doomstruck expression on your face.

"I'll come by tomorrow to help."

You shook your head. "It's okay, you've done so much already. Thank you."

Everything about him had grown so familiar, so warm. You missed him more than you cared to admit, and that scared you. In the three weeks since you had last seen him, it finally came crashing down on you.

You liked Satoru.

The thought was heady and overwhelming in your mind. You stumbled a bit and he caught you by the shoulders.

"Woah there," he chuckled lightly, finally able to make out the look in your eyes.

"Sato—" your lip wobbled and he stopped it with his thumb. Then, he used his fingers to clean up the icing decorating your face.

"I got you."

He snorted softly at your dazed expression, drawing away from you. Your hands shot up to grasp at him, keeping him in your bubble. 

"Please don't pull away."

Satoru stilled, letting you drag him back into your personal space. "M'not going anywhere."

You weakly punched him in the chest, fist remaining there for a moment before you let it fall limp. Glaring at him, you sniffled.

"You're avoiding me."

"I was," he admitted.

"What happened?"

"I realized that I liked you a lot more than I thought."

Silence hugged your bodies, heavy and stiff. You blinked at him in surprise, having trouble processing his words.

"H-Huh?"

"I like you," he said again, more adamant. More confident.

"Oh," you breathed. Heat enveloped Satoru's heart at how relieved you sounded. "That makes me..."

Your face morphed from relief to realization. Realization of the situation, of how close your bodies were.

"Really happy," you concluded, squeezing your eyes shut as his hands adjusted to cup your face a little more intimately.

He kissed the apple of your cheek, making sure not to skip over the spot where icing lingered.

The thought entered his mind: I am exactly where I need to be.

Gojo Satoru was born to be loved. It tastes like maple buttercream. And it's spilled all over the floor, stained on his hands and knees. Between his fingers. Melting on his tongue.

[foone]

The rules are simple: Two wizards. Two pistols. No magic.

Now, don't misunderstand: "No magic" of course means "no magic now". The pistols are constructed using magic, of course. Wizards don't carry unenchanted firearms, that'd be silly. You don't spend years learning to bend all the rules of spacetime just to make a gun that shoots lead bullets using exploding powder. No magic just means you don't cast a shield spell while you're taking aim. But if you want to bring a gun you've designed to cast a shield itself when drawn? Go nuts.

So most wizards will have a dedicated dueling gun for these reasons. You want something that helps against the other wizard's enchantments, something that protects you from the effects of their bullets, and casts some protective magic on you. Shields, invisibility, illusions, healing... Your dueling pistol is usually a tricked out masterpiece of everything you know about magic and firearms.

Which is why this pistol in front of you is so worrying.

It's basically virgin. This is the product of a skilled gunsmith, not a wizard. There's no shields, no infinite ammunition, no enchantments on the bullets, which are mere lead and brass. There's some low level enchantments to strengthen the barrel from misfires, and the powder is enhanced to ensure it's always enough. That's the kind of magic you'd find on a pistol you buy from an average gun store, and it'd cost you only a few coins. This is the weapon of an unmagical security guard or a robber, not the dueling weapon of a world-class magician.

Veynor turned up his magic sense as far as he could without melting his eyes out of his head. Could it have an enchantment to hide other enchantments? No, unless they're being powered by half a city's worth of power. And even if they were, that much anti-magic would hide the low level enhancements on the barrel and the powder.

He asks if he can examine the bullets. "Bullet", says the nameless wizard, pulling out the empty magazine and showing it to Veynor. They pull back the slide and eject a single bullet, grabbing it in their other hand with practiced ease. They hand it over, and Veynor stares at it with the kind of intensity you only see when someone is looking not with their eyes. It's... Lead. Lead and powder and brass and a primer and the only magic here just makes sure the powder is sufficient to fire it. That's the kind of enchantment that you cast on a whole batch of bullets to ensure none will misfire, not the kind a wizard intricately carves into each bullet individually to give them a fighting chance in a magic battle.

Veynor hands back the bullet, and the nameless wizard loads it back in their pistol. It's a bluff, it has to be. They're trying to scare me, he thinks. Wizards know the inverse rule of subtlety and power. Your average wizard throwing fireballs and lightning is a student still in their first few years, while an old master will not need to do anything as flashy. They'll just wave a hand dismissively and your entire family line going back seven generations will retroactively be erased... So this has to be a trick. They know they're outclassed (Veynor has been at this for decades, after all), and are trying to psych him out. With a gun this cheap and unpowerful, they're betting that the more powerful wizard will call off the duel out of imagined danger.

Too bad. Veynor is not blinking at the bluff... "Let's do this".

They face away from each other, as if they could only see from their eyes. Veynor holds his pistol high, and the nameless wizard holsters it, their arrogance apparently extending to not needing to have it ready to fire. Another attempt at bluffing, as if Veynor could even call it off now. The rules are clear, and wizard rules aren't the kind you break without consequences.

They take their requisite ten paces, and Veynor flips around and takes aim, his pistol setting up shields and blurring his image as he takes aim at... Nothing? Where's the nameless wizard?! Did he flee? Veynor didn't feel any ripples from a teleport, he must have gone invisible. His gun continues casting spells on him, and he feels the enhanced vision kick in. The morning mist fades and the clouds in the distance come into view, but still no nameless wizard.

Veynor swears. The nameless wizard must have cheated. There's no way that gun could have done this. If it could, he would have seen the enchantment. Well, if they're cheating... He casts a review spell, rewinding time in his mind and watching the duel again. They face away, the take the steps. 1,2,3...

The cloud parts in the distance. There's a rumbling in the ground. Even with enhanced vision it's not obvious what happens. Veynor tries to dismiss the review magic but their magical control is going haywire. Something is very, very wrong. They start to feel like they're being pulled out to sea by an undertow, as the ambient mana field is suddenly becoming a raging river pulling past them.

In their vision, they see the nameless wizard stop at the end of their paces, and turn as they reach for their pistol. As the review ends, they see the holster glow with the colorless light of magic, as an enchantment activates. That's their trick, they placed magic on the holster! But what kind? And what's happening in the sky?

The clouds part to a black circle with a silver rim. The circle grows in size, seemingly, an Veynor casts a farsight spell now to see this from another angle. Casting his vision miles to the side, he sees the circle is a tube descending from the clouds at a shallow angle, pointed right at him... Oh sweet silent mother, that's the barrel of the pistol. It's now big enough to cross the inland sea, with a caliber better described in miles.

The sky goes dark as the barrel blots out the sun, the shadow stretching halfway to the way station at the edge of the wizarding wastes. With his senses stretched by the enchantments on his gun, he sees the events happening in slow motion. There's a click, and a hammer starts moving towards the back of the bullet.

Veynor tries to set up a teleport, an emergency one to anywhere, anyplace, any time but here. The flowing mana is making it difficult but he sees a destination: the abandoned fortress at the other end of the wastes. It'll be easier to get to than outside the wastes, and it'll give him time to set up another jump. The sky shatters as a sound starts coming his way.

With his slowed time sense, it'll be minutes before he can hear the gunshot, but already the shockwave is visible, even to the unaided eye. The bullet is supersonic, however, so no matter what happens he'll never hear that gunshot: either he teleports out of here or the bullet turns him and half the landscape into a fine paste.

He focuses his vision on the fortress, concentrating on finishing the teleport. The soundwave of the gunshot hits the fortress in his sight beyond sight, and it doesn't collapse, exactly, so much as cease being a structure and reverts back to a thousand small stones no longer sharing any association with each other.

With his destination destroyed, his teleport fizzles. The sky is still dark, but the mana flowing towards him has sped up to the point where he's having trouble staying upright, as his footing gets shakier and shakier. He looks up and sees the slug moving towards him at a bit more than the speed of sound, and he closes his eyes.

It doesn't help, his magical senses continue to show him the movement of objects around him, right up until the moment of impact.

The barrier around the wizard wastes goes white, and slowly fades back down through the colors until it returns to its normal semi-transparency.

The nameless wizard catches the hot brass in their right hand, before it hits the rapidly solidifying bedrock under their feet. The wizard wastes are self-healing (you'd be surprised how much even the average wizard duel destroys the landscape), but that's no reason to litter. They look at the deep crater they find themselves in, and start planning a route up the side. Most of it is still flowing, with the sand and rock intermixing in their white hot state, but there's spots here and there that are cooling quicker.

They could try a teleport, but it's a nice day for a bit of rock climbing. Besides, like they always say: half the trick of being a wizard is knowing when not to use magic. And right now the local mana field is a bit chaotic, having just gone through the equivalent of the Chicxulub impact.

They hike up their robes and begin to climb. Their feet may be heat proof, but they don't want to singe their robe again. It's a lot harder to enchant wool with heat protection spells, something to do with how the will of the former owner interferes. They make a note to do more research into the inherent magical abilities of sheep, once they climb out of this crater. Behind them, rocky ejecta finally crashes back into the crater. They wonder if the barrier has a roof, or if they just flung rocks onto the moons. They'll have to ask one of the lunar residents later, and make amends for any property damage.

They'll have to get lunch after this, all this climbing is working up an appetite. Maybe some mutton chops, since they were thinking about sheep? There's a good place on the bigger moon, they haven't been there in a while.

On the moon, there's a small impact, a puff of dust thrown up into the (lack of) air and slowly drifting back down. In the puddle-sized crater, a heavily enchanted pistol lies, still in perfect shape. The engraving on the side, readable in all languages, says "if found, return to Veynor". The dust lands on it, slowly burying it.

[sunderwight]

Time travel fic where Vader gets the chance to go back in time, any time, and change his history.

So he goes back to when he was still a slave boy living on Tatooine with his mother.

He avoids the Jedi. Qui-Gon doesn't get the money for the parts they need, so the Queen doesn't reach Coruscant in a timely fashion, and the ousting of the Trade Federation is delayed. Which sucks ass for Naboo. But, on the other hand, the confrontation with Maul happens smack dab in the middle of the desert, so Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan actually overpower him together and neither of them dies.

After the Jedi leave, Anakin uses his future knowledge and expertise in cybernetic implants to remove his and his mother's slave chips. A tragic accident befalls Watto, and a fire in the junk shop destroys most of his records, so no one who inherits the remainder has any knowledge of slaves (or anything else) missing from the inventory.

Shmi knows that something has changed. But Ani's always been a miracle, strange and unknowable in many ways, and yet still her son regardless. She goes along with it, even though she's apprehensive about affording water, shelter, and food as they are.

She needn't have worried.

At every turn, Anakin miraculously seems to uncover things they need, or opportunities for them to explore. Shmi finds decent work in various establishments -- cleaning garages and hangers, and cantinas after closing, mostly. There always seems to be someone willing to hire her on for a while, even if they already seem to have staff. Ani works his magic with scrap parts and whatever better pieces they can afford, when they have enough to spare (which is surprisingly often), and sells contraptions to the Jawas, junk dealers, or other interested parties. If he makes and sells some weapons to some enterprising bounty hunters or mercenaries, Shmi doesn't discern it, and Anakin doesn't volunteer the information.

But mostly, he works in prosthetics.

There's a pretty big demand for such in the Outer Rim, especially Tatooine, where the idea of anyone hopping into a Bacta tank is even less realistic than the idea of public swimming pools. People are losing limbs all the time, and good prosthetics are hard to come by.

Anakin makes good prosthetics. Even with limited parts and visible frustration, by the time he's thirteen, most of the planet knows where you go if you need an "extra hand", so to speak.

It's not long before the Hutts take an interest in monopolizing the resource, and seeing what else this talented young mechanic can build. Even if most Hutts rarely need prosthetics themselves, they like to be in charge of a hot commodity, after all. And it's hardly unheard of for them to lose an arm or two either.

Shmi worries. Anakin doesn't. Somehow, all of the local crime lords start to be met with unfortunate accidents. Their relatives and allies investigate, of course, and no one really believes in coincidences in the Outer Rim. But nothing turns up either. Falling cargo, suicides, misfiring weapons, heart attacks, choking on food, slipping and falling into sarlacc pits, it's all stuff that does happen. It just usually doesn't happen so often, to such a specific group of people, within such a short amount of time.

When Anakin is fifteen, Sidious sends people to fetch him. They approach him with sweet offers and seemingly-generous gifts, at first, as if it's not the most suspicious way they could go about it. His mother too, but it's such a stupid effort that Shmi finds them suspect even without prompting, and senses something off about them. Anakin's mother might not be nearly as Force sensitive as he is, but she is, and she doesn't like Palpatine's people even if she doesn't know who they are.

The next ones just try and abduct him. It's at least less insulting in its directness. They find themselves falling afoul of the many dangers of Tatooine instead. Such a risky place, people disappear out here all the time. Mind the womp rats and the krayt dragons.

Finally, Sidious goes himself.

His ship suffers a terrible malfunction upon its descent towards a planetside dock. A true tragedy. The Chancellor will be missed.

History remembers Anakin Skywalker as a footnote in the development of several innovative prosthetic enhancements, and a semi-obscure abolitionist who also advocated for the rights of clones.

[bluewolfangel01]

How would the brothers act during an argument?? Have a good day btw :3

Thank you anon, hope you have a good day too

Brothers during an Arguement

I feel like there's 2 levels of how they'll act depending on what happened; the "I'm going to kill you" where they'll rough up each other like typical siblings, or the "I'm going to kill you" where they'll leave whichever brother offended them on death's door

We often see Mammon owing Levi either money or something else for example, that's a typical siblings quarrel, the result of which is either Mammon doing a favor for Levi, Levi choosing a punishment for Mammon, or if it gets to the point where it's disturbing everyone else in the HoL Lucifer is going to intervene and string them both up

Such other examples include: Beel eating all the food in the house, misfired prank devised by the Anti-Lucifer League, destorying/stealing a personal item, etc

Now Satan may be the avatar of wrath but when any of the brothers get truly pissed off, it's hard to tell who's the true avatar of wrath

They can get so beyond angry, so beyond pissed, their aura can and will become so fear inducing that even Mc can't help but be scared of their beloved demons if there's ever a "I'm going to kill you" type arguement

Of course one of them must have done something almost unforgivable for any of the brothers to get to that level of pure wrath, except for Satan of course, he's a ticking time bomb but he's ours :)

Lucifer: any arguement he's apart of (where he didn't have to intervene in the first place) is typically because one of his brothers didn't listen to him, a more destructive than typically Anti-Lucifer League prank is pulled, or his belongings are messed with

Mammon: ... it's Mammon, almost any arguement he's apart of is because of money to some form or another, if it doesn't involve money then the next likelihood is that he's had enough of being called a scumbag or some variation of degrading name

Levithan: the topic, most of the time, involves his otaku collection, whether he's being hindered from getting more stuff to add to the collection, it's been defaced to any capacity, or it's been sh!t talked to such an extent that Levi can't help but to defend it with all his might

Satan: everything and anything, it's Satan, though if you want to get a bit more specific the topics might typically be the brothers being loud, a Lucifer prank gone wrong, or his book was damaged

Asmodeus: he'll probably get into an arguement if one of the brothers messes with his room, his clothes, his makeup, his beauty/self care routine, his chance to get with a potential partner, stuff like that

Beelzebub: he's not one to get mad or into arguements easily but if he does it's because of something like one of the brothers ate something he had his name on, one of the brothers picking on Belphie (mainly when Belphie isn't in the mood/isn't doing okay) ... I'm going to be honest I can't think of much Beel would get into a fight about rn

Belphegor: He'll typically get into a fight because the brothers are being to loud for his liking, for some reason or another the brothers stop him from sleeping for an extended period, or he's to tired to deal with the brothers' schemes/shenanigans

Im dealing with a bit of writer's block so the ideas started to fizzle out towards the end there. Sorry for taking a bit to answer your ask

[matan4il]

One correction: It's not GAP (what can you do with automatic translation), it's PIJ, which stands for Palestinian Islamic Jihad, a terrorist organization in Gaza, much smaller than Hamas, but also considered much more extremist.

Three points to take into account:

Even if you believe there's no humane sentiment among Israelis, Israel striking a hospital would be such a PR nightmare, that it really doesn't have any interest to do it.

The number of people killed being reported is unlike anything you've heard from any Israeli airstrike, and there's a reason for it. Hamas knows that hospitals are "protected," that Israel wouldn't strike there, so where do you think Hamas hides its headquarters and its ammunition storage? So once a PIJ rocket launched at Israel, ended up accidentally falling inside the Gaza strip, there's a good chance it hit the munition stored by Hamas in the hospital, causing a much bigger explosion than a few rockets can create on their own, and accounting for the number of dead.

In the past, when Israel did make a mistake and accidentally hit a large number of civilians, it did take responsibility for it. It took Israel quite a while (two hours) to respond to the claims that it was an Israeli strike precisely because IT TAKES TIME to make sure that there hadn't been any accidental strikes at the hospital. It doesn't take time to lie and throw the blame at someone else.

I prefer focusing on what is happening inside Israel, because those are voices that are barely shared online, but I know that Hamas didn't wait to actually find out what happened before blaming Israel, and that hatred for Israel is already being spread on and offline, so... I'm putting this out there.

Update: Here's a vid from Al Jazeera, they were filming Gaza, so they inadvertently filmed the PIJ rocket launched from Gaza, failing mid air, and then falling back down in Gaza, causing the explosion.

Update 2: Thanks to a reblog, I can add a link to even more images showing it was a failed launching within Gaza, with several different sources coming to the same conclusion.

Also, to the nonnie who asked me for a third, neutral party as a source... Al Jazeera is not neutral, it's firmly anti-Israel. They have a live stream of Gaza with clear timestamps. This is even better than a neutral source, because this is a channel with motivation to lie and vilify Israel, yet their footage ended up showing the opposite.

Update 3: There is now a picture from where the hospital took a hit. It seems that it was the parking lot.

If you click on the pic, it will take you to the Twitter thread, where people are doubting that this was the scene of 500 people dying. I don't know if it was or wasn't, but all casualty numbers coming out of Gaza? They're released by their Health Ministry, which is a part of Gaza's government. And that government is, all of it, Hamas. The same organization that massacred over 1,400 civilians in Israel.

The source is a Hamas-affiliated "news" account on Twitter.

There's now a video from inside the hospital's chapel, showing it mostly intact (other than the glass windows).

There's also a recording of two Hamas terrorists talking about the strike, where they themselves confirm that it was a rocket misfired by the PIJ. I can't embed another vid in this post, but I linked to the recording with English subtitles.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[finn-writes-stuff]

If you're still in a Legend of Vox Machina mood, could I request how Percy would react to a girl Tiefling s/o ,who loves to sing and dance, singing with Scanlan? Jealous Percy is adorable. Love everything you write. Will give you a kofi after I get my paycheck(this is not a bribe)

To Cut In

Dancing with your best friend is all fun and good until your favourite gunslinger starts feeling left out of the fun.

Percy de Rolo x Fem!Reader

Fandom: The Legend of Vox Machina/ Critical Role

Format: Oneshot

Female Reader

Masterlist

Asfghjkl thank you so much. I had fun writing this! And bribes are never required but always appreciated <;3

The party had set up camp for the night and spirits were high after a battle that had been much easier than expected. Keyleth had a warm fire going and the twins were whittling arrows in the orange light. It was amazing how some days a camo like this really could feel like a home away from home. You were happy, in an easy way that often felt so far away when adventuring. Scanlan had struck up a tune and was swinging you around with him, laughing whenever either of you stumbled. There was a tilted crown hanging from your horns, the gentle buzz of magic reminding you that it was one of his illusions.

There was so much joy in this, in belting out a cheesy love song and trying to make the other party members smile when they watched you. Pike and Grog were both cheering you on, and dissolved into giggles as Scanlan attempted to dip you, despite the height difference. It really just led to you precariously wobbling before you managed to get back to your feet.

"So, are you desperately in love with me yet?" Scanlan asked as the verse ended, winking at you.

"Not quite, you'll have to try another song."

"I've got some that'll be sure to have you head-over-heels, just you wait." You knew he was joking with you. With the way he kept glancing past you at Pike's laughing face and with how you had both bared your hearts to each other, explaining your separate pining over white-haired party members. But it would never stop him from joking about stealing your heart, and spinning around in the firelight with him was fun. He was your best friend here, you wouldn't trade that for anything.

So it caught you off guard as someone caught your wrist, pulling you out of Scanlan's arms. The cool leather on your skin told you who it was even before you turned to meet Percy's eyes, the familiar sharp green. Behind you, Scanlan ended up tripping back, set off balance by your sudden disappearance.

"Scanlan has had plenty of chances to dance with you. Would it be too much to ask for one for myself?" His tone was calm and collected but you could see the set of his jaw. It was the same as when his gun misfired too often or when he ended up dragged into a plan he didn't agree with. A frustration that he often kept under tight wraps. He was always loath to let you see it from him, but you'd learned how to read his cues.

"No, no it wouldn't be. Although most men wait for the other dance to end first." It was a gentle tease, questioning his swift cut-in.

"I'm afraid the bard speaks quicker than I do. If I waited, you would be in his arms all night."

"'The bard' is right here, you know! And if you want any music, you'll ask nicely after that stunt. My ass hurts!"

The slow raise of an eyebrow was so incredibly Percy that you couldn't help but grin at him. He was just as ridiculous as everyone else here, whether he would admit it or not. You cherished his dry sarcasm, especially as you noted his amusement in turn.

"If you could 'please' give us a song, Scanlan? I would appreciate it."

You had a sneaking suspicion that the only reason Scanlan listened was due to how he had nearly ended up in Pike's lap after his stumble, but either way, the music started again, mellow and sweet.

"Let me lead?" Percy asked gently, a hand resting softly on your waist and the other catching your own. "I won't just about drop you as he did."

"Scanlan still caught me, no harm no foul, right?"

"I'd say that it's better to be in good hands in the first place." He squeezed your hand and you were lost for a moment in his intensity. Percy was a person who did nothing by halves and who seemed to throw himself headfirst into his passions. He looked at you with that same sort of devotion.

"Better hands? Like yours?"

He smiled, just this side of smug, and you were done for. Gods, his stupid smirk, you were in love with him.

"You said it, darling, not me."

Percy was a graceful dancer, and it was so different than the chaos of dancing with Scanlan. He swept you across the ground as if it were a polished ballroom floor. And when he dipped you, his hand was steady and strong at your back. Your face was warm and your tail was swishing behind you contentedly.

You felt as though you belonged here, spinning in his embrace with his eyes drinking you in shamelessly. He was so often subtle and restrained in how he charmed you, but this was an impulse, a show. He wanted to be clear about his fondness for you, so that the whole party understood, not just you.

So it was clear that you were his and that he was yours in turn.

You wanted to kiss him so badly, but you knew it would be inevitably followed by wolf whistles and heckling from your friends, even if they weren't giving you their full attention.

Instead, you indulged yourself by memorizing his features, setting them in stone in your head. You already knew them perfectly, of course, with how often he was in your dreams. But there was hardly any harm in enjoying the view.

You were lost in your reverie until Scanlan's voice cut through your thoughts.

"Are you going to kiss her or not, Percy, we're dying over here!"

You flushed and went to tell him off, but you didn't get the chance before Percy's hand was on your chin, tilting your head to look at him.

"May I, darling?"

"I- yes, yes you may."

You found that the wolf whistles were worth it if kissing him would be like this every time.

[in1-nutshell]

Human Buddy gets a mild illness and Spinister takes care of them

SFW, platonic, Human reader

MTMTE

Buddy didn’t bring their coat on an outing on some foreign planet. To be fair, they didn’t expect it to be cold. Misfire said it wasn’t going to be cold.

Well… there was mistake one.

Thinking that Cybertronian cold and human cold were the same thing. And taking that response from Misfire.

“You sure it’s not going to be cold?”--Buddy

“I’m sure Buddy! Just a light breeze at most!”—Misfire

So now they are heading to Spinister’s makeshift medbay. Buddy yelled out that they are coming in, so he won’t shoot. They didn’t want to be burnt while not being able to smell anything.

“Spinister I’m coming into the medbay! I am now actively walking into the medbay! I have one foot inside the medbay!”—Buddy

 Spinister acknowledges Buddy with his back turned to them. He only looks at them when he hears them sneeze. His fingers are itching for the gun but realizes that it was Buddy.

Brings Buddy up to eye level and notices that they don’t look too good, at least from an organic. Luckily, he had been reading up on some organic medical logs lately. He remembers something about checking for human temperature. He gets a digit and places it on Buddy’s forehead. Buddy just leaned into his cold digit. Spinister knows that humans aren’t meant to be this hot.

“You’re a bit hotter than usual.”--Spinister

“Aww thanks Spins.”--Buddy

“Apparently also delusional.”--Spinister

He quickly does a search on the space google on what to do. Has a mini scare and then it’s immediate bed rest for Buddy. Sets up the human corner of the medbay for use. He grabs some small blankets and wraps Buddy up in scary precision and lays them back in the nest of pillows and blankets. Buddy is slowly roasting in the burrito blanket pile.

Spinister isn’t having that.

“Can I at least get one cover off?”--Buddy

“And have you coughing up a lung? As the humans say, ‘Fat chance’.”--Spinister

Tries his best to get Buddy some warm fluids from the soup cans in the storage unit. After 5 attempts and some help from Krok he finally gets the soup to Buddy.

“Here eat this. We don’t need your nutritional levels going down too.”—Spinister

Makes a little announcement to the crew to keep things civil for Buddy if not they are going to die. Krok has to reword his message because Grimlock and Misfire are trying to storm into the medbay.

“Buddy will die if you all disturb them while they are resting.”—Spinister

“WHAT!!!”—All the Scavengers

“Buddy! No! My human pal!”--Misfire

“They’re sick! They’re sick! That’s what Spinister means! They aren’t going to die—”--Krok

“They could though.”--Spinister

“Spinister! Not helping!”—Krok

The Scavengers do make visits through Buddy’s sick time.

Krok lets Buddy in on the news on the ship and is constantly asking if he can do something to help Buddy out physically. He is also there if they want to rant about something. He may tell some stories about his time with his former squad.

“So, what happened after that?”--Buddy

“Well, me and my old crew were up against the Wreckers…”--Krok

Crankcase visits every now and then, mainly because he is piloting the ship. Tries to hype them up to get better faster, he needs someone to distract Misfire from bothering him.

“Seriously, can’t you get better any faster? I swear Misfire is getting more annoying by the second.”--Crankcase

Fulcrum visits the least and always stands by the door.

He is still a bit squeamish about organics and it’s only increased to a 10-fold with the illness.

“How are you from over there Fulcrum?”--Buddy

“Trying not to puke honestly.”--Fulcrum

“Same here Fulcrum.”--Buddy

Grimlock and Misfire visit together and try to get Buddy to laugh as much as they can.

“C’mon Buddy not even a giggle? How else are you going to get better?”--Misfire

“What do you mean?”--Buddy

“Isn’t laughter the best medicine for you humans? Right Grimmy?”--Misfire

“Me Grimlock.”--Grimlock

“See! He gets it.”--Misfire

“In a way, I guess it works.”--Buddy

Grimlock lays down near Buddy and occasionally poke their side or move some hair out of their face. Misfire along with trying to make Buddy laugh just chats with them. He does feel bad that Buddy was confined to the bed. On one visit, Misfire tried to smuggle Buddy out of the medbay to get a change in scenery. He didn’t get 10 steps out before Spinister is on his tailpipe trying to get Buddy back in the next.

“Shhh! Keep it down!”--Misfire

“I’m sorry but you are the one being smuggled right now?”--Buddy

“Yeah, well the planets are cool to look at and I thought I’d give you the privilege of seeing them.”--Misfire

“Yeah okay… but what about Spinister?”--Buddy

“What about him?”--Misfire

“What about me?”--Spinister

“Oh Scrap! Run!”--Misfire

Spinister is on top of all of Buddy’s needs the entire time. Will go on meaningless rants from time to time when things get too boring.

“Do you have squirrels living in your head?”--Spinister

“Do I have what?”--Buddy

One time he made a mini shooting range to entertain Buddy using the guns for shoot-shoot-bang-bang. This was quickly dismantled when Krok came in for a visit, apparently a safety hazard or something.

Buddy makes a full recovery and Spinister makes remarks about not getting sick again. Spinister now always carries a spare jacket in his subspace in case Buddy forgets theirs.

“Buddy take your jacket.”--Spinister

“Spinister I don’t need it.”Buddy

“I DoN’t NeEd iT. Yeah no, you’re taking the jacket.”--Spinister

[generalluxun]

So, at what point did you decide to ditch your initial pairings in Dog Daze?

Decide isn't quite the way it went down. It's more that it became increasingly clear Adrienette was misfiring. The post-Risk stress was getting to Ladybug, and her partner taking a more active role in heroing was both helpful and scary for her (a lack of control).

Adrienette actually had a date (Adrien:it's not a date, Sabrina:But it might be!) Alya set it up, the sneaky fox!

Marinette wanted to confess at the end of the movie. She was trying to, bit freezing up. Adrien wanted to comfort her, and used what he had recently learned from his time with Sabrina. He kissed her gently on the forehead. This has the opposite effect intended. Marinette panics and bolts. She's still got everything built up to be Very Important(TM) in her head and his intended gentle reassurance was instead seen as pushing too fast and doing things out of order.

So that didn't help.

When Adrien talks (he's confused) with Sabrina about what happened she figures out that it was probably a confession. Adrien... Doesn't know how to take this. On one hand he's floored, Marinette is amazing! On the other hand, he's worried loving him is causing her stress. *He has a very real example of love causing stress between Cat Noir and Ladybug*

Meanwhile Ladybug confesses... To Cat Noir. Marinette is building up her nerves by clearing the air. She reiterates that they can't *do* anything with their love, because of the masks, but hopes that being honest will help. It does! Ladynoir ends up in this nice place where they clearly love each other, even if it doesn't mean the usual things.

Adrien, not knowing Ladybug was going to do that, had reached out to Marinette to meet up and talk about what happened at the theater(and give her another chance to confess if that was what it really was, though he doesn't say that to her) They meet up on the way to school. She's putting on a brave face but clearly wired. He's trying to help. And finally she does confess! And it is sweet and heartfelt!

And in that moment, Adrien envisions the life Marinette wants, and it's set against everything going on. Monarch, his father, the trials of Ladynoir, all of it. He just can't subject her to that. He tells her she's wonderful, and if *he* were a different person with a different life it would be so easy to say yes. He tells her if life changes, then he'd consider himself lucky if she would date him, but also asks her not to wait. She's too special to be kept waiting in the wings.

Marinette- has a panic attack. She's put so much into this moment. not just her love life but as a sign that she's not a failure(after losing most of the miraculous) and that life is still 'in control'. It takes Adrien, Alya, and Sabrina's help to bring her back out. She ends up being shepherded by Alya while Adrien and Sabrina talk(he nearly had a panic attack in response to Marinette's) and there I think, passed the idea of adrienette working out.

There was just too much going on. It was a bad time, and they had very different needs. Adrien and Sabrina made their way slowly towards admitting they had actually already been dating for a while. It actually might not have happened but others kept poking their relationship and requiring definition.

I expected Marinette to end up with Lukanette. She contacted him soon after her failed confession. She was very open this time though about needing to blow off steam and feel lovable(despite the fact Adrien had said she was, you know how feelings are) They hung out a few times but Luka stayed resolutely in supportive friend territory by his own choice.

In the end (after Dog Daze, during a one shot) Marinette actually ends up with someone who lives life as frenetically as she does. They both spin out of control regularly, but they also both know what it is like to spin out of control and how to help each other through.

[yutasbimil]

Outlier

vyn x fem!oc | tears of themis ff. (psychology major!lead) ✦ (5/8) [series fic] !!! also posted on my ao3 acc! { here } tags: hurt/comfort, smut cw: nsfw minors dni, p0rn w/ plot, first time, kissing, drunk/intoxicated, angst to soft comfort *cue ugly sobbing*, oral (female receiving), teasing, fingering, overstimulation, dom/sub; top/bottom dynamic, dirty talking (kinda silly tho), kinky; hair pulling/slapping, dumbification, multiple orgasms, passionate af; dammit vyn, rough sex, unprotected sex, aftercare, FLUFF ! ! ! D; + supposedly this is a 'x reader' fic but got too heavy eventually, I apologize truly ;; word count: 4.8k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

do not repost © yutasbimil (2023)

cont.

Vyn carries her back into the hotel room. The tension was as heavy as the wooden door shutting close behind them.

She had her face red, tears leaking due to the hotness she was feeling. It managed to be cooled off a bit by the white soft sheets of the hotel bed. Yule reeks of alcohol, much reddened by embarrassment. Never in her life had she got this drunk.

Though she’s  a bit  tipsy– a little more than calculated– as good as she is at math, her attempts once again misfired; miscalculated.

Yule goes on what we may call  pouncing  at him once they get into their room, getting hold of him being clingy as she is, opposite to the restrained Yule that feels allergic to even leaving a touch on his finger. 

Of course, Vyn respects her by remaining at arm's length by holding her shoulders to balance her weight. Even if it was intentional or if she wanted to get intimate with him, he digressed. She's drunk, that's of the utmost importance to keep in mind.

The tiredness seeping into them really weighed them like the feeling you have after a party. And here lies the unresolved tension within the hotel room.

She feels her head-turning, much like a black hole sucking in every fiber of her system.

"Fuck, never doing this again." It's more on a declaration although more assured of never getting wasted up to this point. At most, she wouldn't want to be near anything alcoholic for a long long while. "I'm so sorry, Vyn." 

"You keep apologizing…" His voice is soft, indistinguishable for Yule especially with his utmost concern seeing her like this.

She has her arm atop her forehead but it's anything but helpful as it's still heavy as fuck. Compared to the weight Vyn has on his chest as she has him close, he's really the type of person with the body temp to be on the colder side. 

The cold silence between them pales in comparison to the actuality of their heated thoughts.

"It's not just… me being… so drunk." Yule felt her hot desire to quench her thirst. Her throat felt so desert dry. "I'm…"

Yule rethinks every decision she made, even the very reason why she even pursued Vyn in the first place. She's too much of a burden to be with the likes of him. She's a wreck.

Vyn felt the heaviness of her core with her deep sigh, and the tinge of regret in the quiver of her gaze, which honestly, pulled a heartstring at the moment she looked at him with such pity in her eyes.

How unfortunate of you to be with me.

"Why does it look like you're going to push me away anytime soon?" Vyn states,  but aren’t they already here? Is there even a chance to walk away now? 

Vyn further inspects her blank stares of hesitance. There's a heaviness at the pit of his stomach.

But I also don’t want to leave her alone.

"Am I not doing it already?" She says in a monotone. The grip of her hands by his arm says otherwise as if begging for her dear life to not let go.

Honesty does spill more through actions…

Vyn chortles at that, nodding slightly and looking away. He just lets her hold on to his hand despite the denial she’s been putting up all this time. The man doesn’t let her fully lie down though.

“Okay, you'll be pushing me away then… At least when I let go, sober up first so it wouldn’t hurt as much in the morning, hmmm?” Vyn supports the back of her head, lifting her body so she can sit right up.

She’s just quiet, praying that he still firmly believes this painted demeanor of her drunken state is certainly caused by the alcohol.  Yeah, it's definitely still the alcohol.

Though, her impetus for her blushing is for a different reason.

Yule felt everything moving slower around them. Listening to his words, dragged her more mesmerized, taken by the flow of the softness of his low voice. It is amplified within the closed space they’re encapsulated in.

Yule is unconsciously driven to his lead, listening to what he’s telling her to do.

"Drink water, it is to lessen the headache upcoming." His intent as he takes hold of her carefully, shows his real desire through his movements.

Absent-mindedly, she blurts out her question as she keeps following her eyes at him.

“Why do you like me?”

Vyn can't answer properly, she's a plethora of admirable things, but despite that, his interest and feelings towards her are abstract; unexplainable by concrete words alone… 

"You're fascinating… as a person, you're many things if I can put it into words." He didn't let the dryness of the pre-consumed alcohol hold back his thoughts. "I’m still going along with it, Yule and I’d be willing to restate it once again you’ve sobered up." 

His voice is soft, full of assurance, yet even at this moment, she remains blinded and deafened by her insecurities. She quickly vents her rebuttal, as if putting up a concrete wall between them.

“I’m horrible and too much, I'm always overwhelming to be around, and just…  too much . Would you stay despite all that?” She's shaking, vulnerable as her tone shows how she’s all over the place.

I'm anything but that—  she felt hostile towards what she heard. He knows she needs to be calmed down.

“Yule, what are you saying?  Hmmm?”  He attempts to touch her cheek, but Vyn gets cut off by the swift hand warding him off.

"Earlier, I…" The conclusion in her tone came forth along her tears, it burned his cheeks seeing her like this. In her mind, it hurt her how earlier it came off as a rejection, with Vyn avoiding any means of contact with her. “I actually thought you don’t want to continue…  this … as I thought you don’t want me…” 

Yule is gesturing to her and him; them.

Vyn holds back his hand that's supposed to reach out to her. “I was only hesitant to do it with you as you’re intoxicated, in thoughts of taking advantage of you. I held back… I didn't mean to have ill intention towards my restraint, dear.”

He thoroughly explains to her, but she remains quiet as her current belief is swiftly toppled over his rationale. She lowers her head, unable to construct any argument back.

“Of course, I want to be with you, Yule. I’m still here, am I not? I won't go anywhere…” Especially when she's like this, she can't be left alone. He's talking some sense and logic in her as she starts clinging tightly to his polo shirt. It is getting more and more tear-stained, but it also pools warmth in both their chests.

This hug is proof that he still likes her despite everything.

-

Vyn helps her sober up and calm down, having a crying fit also made Yule feel guilty as she may put him through all this crap.

She apologizes again as they always seem to end up in mishaps.

"I'd be willing to work through it with you, but of course, I'm also human. I only have to do much and of course, I also have my limits and shortcomings." Vyn acknowledges her worries. She knows full well how hard relationships can be.   They're willing. 

And she's difficult to handle, she’s well aware that she has inadequacies. But she does like him, like a whole lot. And she wants to actively work on herself and work through this relationship with him.

She feels sorry for being so closed off.

But he feels an ache in him, he’s also not being fully honest with himself. And not being open with her with his own baggage as well.

"I want to make up with you as soon as possible." Yule starts, getting back to his effort by closing off a different type of distance between them. She leaves a few centimeters gap, letting their breaths linger close. "Will it be fine this way?"

Finally closing the gap, they also didn't leave any space between their fingers as they gripped into both their holds. 

It felt electric to the lips, Yule's eyes had to quiver at the sensation. Vyn pulls away for a moment, moving by her forehead. Vyn starts chaste by her eyes, kissing her tears away as she’s growing emotional again. They kissed again as it felt eons that they hadn’t touched, till they got lost in calculation.

She grabs hold of his collar for support, letting go again for a moment of breath.

Every touch of the man was unfaltering as he planted more touches into her skin. Vyn reaches out for her face to meet their lips for the fifth? Seventh?— Yule already lost count at this point, but her greed is only starting to grow.

A confession slipped off her lips, both looking more obviously swollen already.

"I was really anticipating this, and I've been thinking of when would be the next time we'll actually do   it  ." The pressed syllable on the end implied as clear as daylight to the man. 

His look reciprocated how it didn't leave his mind as well, though it appeared teasing.

"What a naughty girl you are."

"I am very much so…" Yule giggles, but it's anything but bashful. "How can I not be when I have such a handsome man alone in a hotel room? Better yet make use of the opportunity."

Her forwardness really pushed Vyn to the edge, just in time as he's got his gauge of patience filled, it’s growing dire.

"Let's use and make haste for the night." He chuckles, placing a kiss on her warm cheek. Fervently placing a moist kiss by her collarbone the next. "Very soon," he appealed as he lowered the straps of her dress further down. 

As turbulent and quick-paced the past weeks with her had been, he was hooked  badly . Down bad as he’s inexplicably attracted to her aura.

He’s intrigued at the very next pages they would go through. Like reading a book, the uncanniness of how he would spread her open now are like pages cascading down to his expected outcome. 

Although, the onset of the scenarios up to this point of deep entrancement, it is full of unpredictability. It is also as abundant as the card pool probability. It draws him more to his curiosity. Turns out the next outcome just led Vyn into pulling their fates closer and closer to each other.

Yule’s gaze is fully engaged on his pretty, veiny fingers by his silk necktie, straight down her line of sight on the way his hand removes it. Some part of her aches for it to remain tied around his neck, alas, she could only grab hold of him with her own weakening hands. His golden eyes were sharp and entrancing at his sultry movements, anticipation pooled all over her system.

She gradually became enervated as Vyn kissed her by the ear, breathing down her neck the next. He starts seductively licking her bare shoulder, she shudders at his voice. “I’m going to make you   not   forget about me after tonight, m’lady.”

 "Ahh-hmmm…   I’m afraid that’s an impossible task with you, love.   "  Yule didn’t have a chance to catch her breath as she was cut short, Vyn was quick to grab hold of her chest with his free hand. While the other pulls down her dress to let her breasts free, she sucks in a breath the same way as the man sucks at her erect nipples. 

They got sensitive to the cold however their bodies are anything but frigid. Vyn strips off her clothes, one by one meeting the carpeted floor.

“Ahhh… that’s so good, please.   Ah-  ” Yule mewls, restraining herself from grabbing hold of his scalp. Their senses are also heightened, due to having to just recover from alcohol earlier. But she's more attentive now as she is enticed by his mellow motions. Vyn didn’t leave any room for disappointment as he attended to both breasts, leaving no gaps for Yule in her moans of pleasure.

It left her core pooled in anticipation all the more as she waited for this for who knows how long. Her impatience is growing more explicit with her ardent whimpers. “Vyn,   fuck–   you’re making this harder for me,   I want you.” 

“Patience, my dear. Good things take their sweet time…” Vyn divulged, pausing to even tease a painfully slow lick by both her nipples, then by the bare skin of her breasts. He gives it a suck as he uses the other hand to twist and hover over her erect knobs. He keeps his golden eyes direct with hers this whole time. “And I want to pleasure you to my utmost care, pleasured to the edge… sloppily wet and ready… before the most anticipated segment.”

“Vyn… how cruel. This hurts more…” Yule gulps a breath, moaning as he now touches the very much heated, moist core in between her legs. Every touch of his felt mouth-watering, as if his presence was a bell ringing, alarming her salivary glands. She knows Vyn means well to treat her right, but  goddamn  she didn’t expect this to feel more of a torture to crave for his dick.

“It’s… Vilhelm. Call me Vilhelm." He paused, feeling Yule tense up as he pulled away momentarily. "It ought to be rude not to address your lover properly, hmmm?”

“Is that why you chose Vyn to be short?” She can’t pinpoint where she got turned on, is it the sudden admission of his name, indicating his intimacy or him indicating that they’re true lovers.

He nods as if a weight got off him with those syllables, they ought to venture more about that later to be sat down. But first things first.

She feels him loosen up as they take the next steps. She takes this as a sign to also loosen the wrapped belt around his waist.

Yule also removes his polo shirt to not be the only one exposed to the other.

She almost gasps at the scene seeing his toned chest, but his eyes are more stripped naked in his state, vulnerable with his glassy eyes staring back at her.

“I want to make you feel good too.”

Yule pulls him close, wrapping her hands around his neck to place kisses by his cheeks, a lingering peck to the ear, up the forehead, and letting her lips run wild all over his skin. Anywhere that is possible and bare to her sight.

“Later, Yule. You first,” he insists as if heeding him down to lay on her back. 

In his dominant stare, she had no choice but to be vulnerable. She’s now got her legs spread wide open, ready like eagle wings to soar– and in this case, to be eaten by him as he takes her up the skies. 

“Does this feel good?” Vyn says in between him licking the exterior of her nerves and then inserting a finger into her wet core. He still wants a clear ‘yes’ despite the restrained mewls she elicits. “No need to hold back, love.”

“Yes,  yes… ah—   ” She’s just keeping control to keep sane from the overstimulation. But he never misses a beat in his rhythm. “   Fuck–   this is making me crazy, ah, ooh… please.” 

Followed again by strings of vowels as he moved more pleasantly crudely with his tongue and fingers. As much as he’s whispering sweet nothings to her, he’s fucking foul with what his mouth and body could do to her.

She bucked her hips, almost curving to the sensation as he also touched the other part of her nether regions. “Wait,   uhhh,   shit, love– what are you doing?”

“Is this not to your taste?” he asks, now just hovering a bit by her butthole. Honestly, she’s taken aback and reinstates her thoughts. “I’m quite indifferent here… uhmmm, I never thought of going there, Vyn.”

“I could take it slow and I’ll go along with the feeling if you’re still alright?” 

She nods, and he maneuvers into it slowly, observing her in her response. It takes her a while to get the feel of it, but it’s getting too much at the same time, She almost yelps as he moves back and forth to a sensitive portion.

She never experienced touching both holes.

Her pleasure and voice is pivoting further out the room, she’s too damn close.

It's far beyond compared to when she masturbates, let alone when she touches herself. She can't believe she'd be feeling this good and tended by a man.

As much as he's enough to give her needs, she’s pushed to the edge of insanity due to the pleasure. But it leaves her more unsatiated and hungry for Vyn.

She felt her throat dry, and her thirst and salivating senses left her exhausted. Yule wants his lips on hers, tongue gauging and fighting with hers. She wants to be nasty with him. But he's too busy swimming into her pool of pleasure, fingers simultaneously macerated already.

Vyn's mouth is moist due to her wetness.

Yet, Yule is left in too much overload with pleasure due to his fingers and tongue on work, She ought to be filled quicker to her limit.

The squelching sounds of his thirst felt scorching in comparison to her hot core, she's bulking her hips at every resistance she's fighting to come over her peak.

“Vilhelm, too much… let me,   please , rest…   hmphh ,   ah-   love.” Yule is too loud at this point, she's glad the walls are thick and private in their own cavern. She caves in feeling something white, awaiting to erupt all over her pit of stomach, down her legs shaking at the sensation. Then another sensation bulldozed into her as Vyn kept going in ramming and twisting curling his finger in her G-spot.

She feels something big coming.

 Is that even possible?!   Even surprised ‘O’ shaped her mouth due to moaning out loud. "Vyn…   hnghhh—   fuck!”

It was too late to let Vyn know as she already climaxed. He lets her senses reverberate in his presence, still letting her ride into her orgasm by lapping his tongue into her whilst pumping his fingers in her.

Yule wasn't able to control herself on how good Vyn was doing. She didn't know she had to  beg  him to stop making her feel so good.

Both of them are left in heaving breaths, although Yule's is more labored compared to his.

“Exhausted already? We're just getting started.” Vyn has a mischievous tone in him, making Yule exert extra energy to roll her eyes at him. This seems a different side of him. She had to smirk. “Sorry, I can’t keep up with you, Doctor.”

The shift in the nickname had him chuckle. “So you’re willing to tend to you then, Miss Saints?”

They had to take a quick laugh at the sudden ‘roleplay’ vibe they accidentally established. 

She spreads her arms for a fleeting hug. “Give me some oxytocin then, Dr. Richter.”

Vyn took this as a chance to hover over her, locking her in between his arms to guide her into another position, His eyes are now filled with more energy, she pales in comparison to her ragged breaths.

She gulps for fear or anticipation, she can’t seem to decide.

Guess she’s putting her hips to work again, her wetness also keeps on flowing at cue. Yule had to blush at her shamelessness.

“Looks like you’re already set, Yule?” Vyn takes a swift swap at her swollen wet core. She shivers and elicits a soft mewl at that.

“Same goes to you, Vilhelm,” she breathes out an amused laugh, pointing to his erect bulge, touching through the fabric. She removes his brief so it’s out of the way.

Vyn lays her back down, and they’re back to their position with him hovering over her, in close proximity. Seeing what was about to unfold soon, she had to gulp.

“W-wait,” Yule blocks her wet core, seeing her suddenly erratic, Vyn holds her hand. 

“Are you scared? We can stop her–”

“I mean  yes , but I don’t want to stop…” Her anxiety shows through her cold sweat, but she breathes out. “I’m just afraid as it’s my first time.”

“I’ll make the best out of your experience, but you can tell me to stop anytime, okay?”

It is valid, and Vyn looks directly at her, full of softness and patience. Yule feels her senses relax again, his body and presence feeling more light and present.

“As scary as it is, this is a risk I’m willing to make. We’re already here, aren’t we?” She doesn’t want to waste anything any further. The same shows how she is at ease with her muscles relaxed.

Vyn nods, placing a quick kiss by the side of her face till he distances himself for a moment. He angles his erection into her, the hotness of his dick was too much just by the surface. The insertion was as impactful as his fixated eyes into hers.

Then the relief as he puts it in is  phenomenal .

“Vyn, please, slowly. But, ahhh… so good already.” She grabs onto his toned arms, he breathes in as he flips his bangs off his face momentarily then smiles over her. “Is this how you imagined it to go?”

“It’s   beyond   what I expected.”

He had to spread a smile on that. “We’re just starting… So let's go over that expectation of yours, alright?”

He starts slow as Yule feels every centimeter of his begins indulging in her. “  Ahhh,   yes, yes. More… please.” 

Vyn easily puts it in but she’s in it for another adjustment, adjusting to his length and width, she’s spread open and vulnerable in many ways.

This is really far different from anything she had experienced in bed, let alone her first time as she’s lacking all possible experience per se.

"Kiss... me, please." moans of plea gush out of her as Vyn leans in to share his warmth and moist lips with hers. It is tender although opposite to the roughness they're about to delve into.

She didn’t even know that she had such erogenous zones that were  that sensitive  by the ear. Yule had to flinch at a mere licking done in her ear, yelping as he bit onto it– she was in it for another overstimulation as he even played with her breasts and nipples. He really keeps himself busy, hands all over her.

She doesn’t want him to pull off.

Vyn maintains the slow and passionate movements, and she could feel every twitch and bulge he does the lovemaking with his hips to his dick in and out of her.

He goes on ahead in holding her by the arms, then shoulders to angle her better. 

“Is this better?” He pounds into her a bit rougher than usual, and she had to bulk her hips at that.

“Rougher, i-is that fine?” 

To be honest, she wanted to be manhandled, but Vyn had something else in mind on their first ever night together.

“I’ll try…” Vyn listens, his lips and touch still full of passion with every kiss.

She doesn’t comprehend how in the world he keeps it gentle yet vehement. Even as he pulls by her arms to ram into her, pounding her further into reverie.

It pushes her more into pleasure as they switch into another position, her down on all fours, all for him to adore. And it gave him more chance to hold both her arms as he pummeled more into her.

To add a cherry on top for her pleasure, she requests him to pull her hair. The sudden demand had him raise a brow, more on in astonishment. “You seem to like that?”

“Very…”

“You’re very kinky, love.” 

“Yes, sorry…”

“I like you in every way, don’t apologize for that,” Vyn assures her, patting her head gently and then shifting to pull her hair by the scalp a bit roughly. Yule felt her walls wrap around his dick tighter at that. It tightens again at every pull of her hair with his manly hands . 

 This is more like it.   Yule had to shamelessly beam at the roughness, in contrast to the roughness, she feels loved at his treatment and him asking consent in every action. This remains in her fantasies for too long, but she didn’t expect to like it in actuality. She’s much more pleased with this outcome.

The sudden slap by her ass took her aback as well, but with the burning sensation left in her skin, it felt more pleasant than it hurts. She had to gulp on that as she felt her walls tighten around him.

It seems more obvious as Vyn lets out a low groan as he does it once again. Yule lets out an aroused squeal as she goes on to look at him, lips bitten to show her amusement. "Vil... Vilhelm,  Vilhelm , that's so good,  uhh- I like that. Yeah,  oohh... " she giggled, licking her lips as she was stuck in a daze of bliss. She was growing more amused as she kept calling out his name, moaning as sounds of sex echoed around the room. It's growing more evident how it has an effect on the man as he leans in to pepper her bare skin with kisses, leaving marks of his touches on her skin.

Vyn leans in to kiss the nape of her neck, grunting once again before speaking by her ear.

“You’re not the type to want to call your lover, ‘daddy’, hmmm?” Vyn adds the hair pulling didn’t help as it immediately puts Yule off her mood momentarily.

Yule rebuts, quickly turning her head at him to glare at him. “Hell no, I don’t want to summon Freud out of his grave.”

Vyn laughs at that. “He’s got enough resurrectors already, let’s not add to that.”

He brings back the mood, her getting immersed in the intensity of his stares as he brings her back in lying down. Everything seems perfect and comfortable all through the night as they share both of their warmth. Body to body, but the intimacy in their stares. All through the night, keeping the rhythm interesting from erratic pounding, to consistent slow. Reaching the peak together seems so undemanding with how they go hand and hand and how well-balanced they are to each other. 

So this is what it feels like to be loved? 

To be handled with such care… It feels so good.

Looking at him across the bed, Vyn seems to notice her need for body heat and he’s quick to pull her close. Even with them reaching almost morning love-making, it doesn’t seem bland to go on. 

Though, they had to rest… And what better way to end the night to be able to be intimate with him?

“You’re lucky… This is unpaid, unsolicited therapy you’re getting out of me.” Vyn jokes, Yule had to pinch him by the arm and then muzzle over her chest.

“This leans more on unethical than it is free,   Will…   you know, doing   this   type of thing with a therapist.” The new nickname for him seems a bit odd, but they’ll get used to it. 

Vyn shushes her, jokingly putting a finger on her lips. “No need to go on the explicit details, it is confidential and I assure you it’s all safe with me.”

“Okay, okay, but do expect me to have ‘another therapy’ with you, Will…” She says riding along the joke. The nickname rolls off her tongue more naturally now. Vyn pulls her deeper into the hug.

“You know I can offer another type of therapy.”

 “Hmmm?” 

“Physical therapy,” Vyn responds.

The gap in the silence and stare made them laugh, Yule had to brush her face against him to hide her blush. Her chest felt elated with his presence.

“You humor me,” she says, not able to contain a giggle.

This is far different from how things will go, and Vyn actually shares the same thoughts. Though he's willing to handle this as unexpected things have turned out.

As shitty as the night had been for a few hours, he made it better.  I might as well open up to him soon about my situation and give him a clear picture. He needs to know as well.

He’s the outlier she’s willing to accept, but unexpected things really can bring the biggest change in your life. And he seems to be a good chance for her to turn out for the better.

Looking up at the ceiling, the night isn’t as uneventful as the plain white canvas on the ceiling. Their conversation is animated by their voices as they spend the night away talking.

No longer putting her heart up her sleeve, his golden eyes are as welcoming as he stares at her. She sees a bright future with him as glowing as his eyes can be. Who knew there was a smile as that radiating directed at her?

※ my masterlist | #enjeiwrites ※

[eretzyisrael]

by Adam Levick

More evidence that the ANC-led government is aligned with Hamas can be found in the country’s actual complaint, which requests a provisional measure calling on Israel to unilaterally and immediately suspend its military operations, before, evidently, even the Israeli hostages are released.  They also allege that, under international law, Israel has no right of self-defence against Hamas – evidently unmoved by the fact that Hamas has pledged to repeat their Oct. 7th pogrom again and again if given the chance.

The Guardian editorial continues:

In addition to the bombing, which has killed at least 23,570 people according to Palestinian authorities, mostly women and children, South Africa’s lawyers cited bodily and mental harm including through the blocking of life-saving aid.

The “authorities” whose death count they cite are of course Hamas authorities, and the figures don’t distinguish between civilians and combatants. They also don’t include the number of putative civilians who were nonetheless involved in military activities at the time of their deaths, or those killed by misfired terrorist rockets.  Further, when the Guardian/Hamas uses the word “children”, they’re including Hamas or PIJ terrorists aged 15, 16 or 17.  Naturally, the editorial also neglects to include Israel estimates that around 10,000 of those killed were terrorists.

As you can see, they also give credibility to false claims that Israel is blocking life-saving aid.

The editorial also adds the following, in an attempt to show ‘intent’ to commit genocide by Israeli leaders:

They [South Africa] argue that there is “chilling, overwhelming and incontrovertible” evidence of intent, citing statements by Mr Netanyahu and other ministers and key figures that dehumanise Palestinians or refuse to distinguish between Hamas fighters and civilians. The prime minister and others have invoked the Old Testament tale of Amalek: God commanded Saul to kill its people without sparing anyone. The defence minister, Yoav Gallant, spoke of “human animals”

The Guardian is being dishonest.

In the Oct. 28th speech by Netanyahu in question, he also said “IDF does everything to avoid harming noncombatants” and that the army was calling on the civilian population to evacuate to safe areas in Gaza.  Further, Gallant spoke of “human animals” two days after the worst antisemitic atrocity since the Holocaust, and there’s no indication that he was referring to anyone else other than the perpetrators of that barbaric massacre.  Further evidence of the unserious nature of the accusation – which editors omitted in order to advance their pre-determined conclusion of Israeli guilt – is that the IDF has consistently mitigated civilian harm in Gaza by warning of attacks in advance, thus forfeiting the strategic advantage, working with hospitals to provide assistance and urging evacuations in advance of military operations.

The Guardian then continues in its deception by purporting to ‘prove’ Israeli leaders’ geocidal intent.

Mr Netanyahu’s 11th hour announcement that Israel had no intention of displacing civilians permanently, and was fighting Hamas and not Palestinians, was entirely cynical – and arguably irrelevant: much of Gaza is now uninhabitable.

The claim that “much of Gaza is now inhabitable” doesn’t prove anything, and it certainly doesn’t show that a few stray comments in fact mean that the state is engaged in genocide.

Much of the country’s infrastructure has been damaged as the result of Hamas’s cruel and illegal decision to place key military assets all over the country, in homes, schools, mosques, hospitals and within other sites considered civilian infrastructure, as well as their booby-trapping of buildings.  The fact that the Guardian doesn’t even once call out the proscribed terror group’s role in the suffering of civilians in the territory is just another example of the outlet’s refusal to assign Palestinian leaders agency.

[prima-materia-ttrpg]

Sucking slightly less at writing Ranged Combat and knowing when to move on

So, my last attempt at writing ranged combat didn't go so well. I rewrote the system; gunpowder weapons do flat, consistent damage and have a chance to misfire. I got rid of rolling to hit entirely and added cover mechanics; being behind a stone half wall will reduce incoming damage by a significant amount. In addition, players could "Hit the Deck" as a reaction to being targeted with a ranged weapon, going prone and reducing damage by a little more than half.

I wasn't sure if these changes would work, and sure enough, they didn't.

It was better than the last attempt, and my playtesters pointed out that it was more fun, but it was also a slog. Hiding behind cover more often than not completely mitigated ranged damage, which isn't necessarily a bad thing but when everyone has ranged weapons and can't hit anything it becomes boring. In addition, the misfire mechanic wasn't fun to engage with at all eating an entire turn if your gun misfired. Being prone was rather powerful against ranged as well, but all it seemed to do is delay the inevitable when not behind cover.

The session turned into players and NPCs shooting from behind cover and never getting hit, and a Koura NPC tanking almost every hit with natural armor. I do have some ideas for playing with the type of damage guns do to allow them to get through armor somewhat, specifically doing Fatigue damage due to the impact even if no "normal" damage goes through the armor (similar to how war hammers work in melee) but I still need to redesign most of the system again.

Instead of doing that, I think it would be better to fully flesh out the other systems I've been teasing out, like armor, and test them with the melee combat system that already works and just needs tweaking of the dials to make the math math correctly. Once I have melee combat, armor, healing options, etc in a good place I can try tackling ranged combat and cover again with a more full ecosystem of the systems that it will be interacting with. This way I can do less guesswork in how strong I can make ranged combat and I have more options to counter it that don't involve making combat boring.

As always, thanks for reading. This is a bit of a shorter post, and I've been talking too much about the mechanics for my taste. Next week will be a Species Highlight - Humans.

[stevie-petey]

Do the girls fighting styles say anything about their personality and differences? How Nancy uses guns and long distance weapons for the most part, while bug uses knifes and close up and occasionally hand to hand combat. Do you think hopper would help bug with her technique and teach her how to fight more efficiently?

SUCH a good question !! short answer: yes.

long answer: its complicated.

omg and yes to hopper hed show her a few moves but bug wouldnt ever practice/want to know them lmao. a begrudging fight club so to speak

now onto nancy and bug:

nancy and bug are foils in a lot of ways, we see this starting from season 1 where bug is soft, vulnerable, selfless and has very little backbone. nancy is the opposite with her rigidity, drive, and passion. as the seasons progress, we see bug and nancy intertwine together yet never knot, they can never necessarily ever see eye to eye or really become one. fundamentally theyre too different, and yet theyre exactly the same, and this is shown in their fighting styles as you pointed out !!

ive been WAITING for someone to ask why bugs weapons are knives. i did sm research trying to find a weapon for her and i was so happy to end up with her dual knives. they represent a lot about her. when she receives them, shes told to use the weapon with love. this is the core of her character, she doesnt ever resort to violence unless someone she loves is in danger. we see in scenes where only shes in danger, she doesnt lash out or fight back. its only when its someone else do we see bug fight. as for her having two knives: bug has a hard time accepting that she cant do everything on her own. its her fatal flaw - she will die protecting everyone if given the chance. so when the old man who gives her the knives tells her that two is better than one, its a reminder to bug to accept help. that strength comes from numbers, from others around you.

now another reason why she uses knives IS because theyre intimate, close combat. shes definitely atheletic, ive hinted at this before. she jogs to ease her anxiety, she played soccer when she was younger, she can wrestle with dustin without breaking a sweat. so knives seemed fitting. she already doesnt like violence, so if shes going to save someone, chances are shes already by their side before the attack even happens. its what she does, she nurtures.

now onto nancy and bug fighting differences: nancy uses guns because its the opposite of whats expected from her, and to an extent its the same for bug. no one would expect them to ever know how to use weapons, let alone carry them wherever they go. nancys gun is loud, its from afar, its a bold, defensive move that leaves no room to miss. one shot and its over. its everything nancy is. she doesnt take no for an answer, she doesnt let anyone near her or the ones she loves, she always goes for the defense in such a forceful and stunning way.

bug has always been softer, and the knives show it. theyre quiet, harder to see coming. it takes more to take down someone with a knife, its personal. everything bug does is personal whereas nancy doesnt let anything become personal. bug protects the ones she loves in a way that doesnt draw attention, minimal damage is her priority. she wouldnt risk a gun misfiring or accidentally shooting someone else. knives are quick, theyre better at getting the upperhand quickly and disarming someone. she doesnt want to hurt anyone, ever. she considers the consequences of what happens after all the violence is done. nancy doesnt, once again reflecting how selfless bug is and how damaging it can be (nancy is arguably the better leader, bug gets blinded too easily by protecting everyone, even if it means losing)

[dream-meister-translations]

DREAM MEISTER AND THE RECOLLECTED BLACK FAIRY

MAIN STORY : CHAPTER 3 PART 16

━

Camus's hand trembled as it grasped the gun. His face paler than the moon itself. His stance so unsteady it seemed he could collapse at any moment.

EMMA : Camus...?

MAM : Camus has… more than his fair share of trauma when it comes to guns. Even just holding one makes him tremble like this.

EVERYONE (EXCEPT SEVEN) : Huh!?

MAM : It was that duel wasn’t it? That caused all of this.

CAMUS : Yes. I lost my left eye in the most disgraceful duel in the history of the Bloody Lady and, ultimately, it led to my expulsion from the organization.

CAMUS : Since then, I've been afraid of guns. It's the truth.

It was then that everyone turned to look at Seven…

SEVEN : ...................Heheheheh……

SEVEN : Hahahahaha!!

EMMA : Se-Seven...?

EMMA : (Could it be...)

━FLASHBACK━

EMMA : If he adores her, why did he leave?

VICTOR : I heard that he was kicked out as punishment for failing them. It’s a harsh world, I guess. I’ll tell you more about that when I get the chance. 

━END FLASHBACK━

EMMA : (So all this is because of a duel with Seven!?)

SEVEN : This won't do... I can't just sit back and watch this.

SEVEN : Let me take over the match.

LEN : Huh? What do you mean?

SEVEN : I finally remembered, Camus... That match with you. It was so incredibly intense.

SEVEN : You had my heart pounding, my guts churning...! Only for it to end in a misfire...

SEVEN : This time’ll be different. A duel bigger than anything we've ever seen, risking all our lives and dreams on a single bullet!

SEVEN : Camus, hand me the gun. I'll take your place. Let me experience the ultimate thrill and decide your dreams for you!

VICTOR : W-Wait a minute, Seven!

LEN : This guy's nuts! Hey, stop that, Seven, what the fuck’s gotten into you!? Drop the theatrics!

YMIR : That's fine by me...

VICTOR : Ymir!?

YMIR : What? Seven seems to be far more focused than Camus right now. And he's clearly had success in the past, no?

GRANDFLAIR : This is getting complicated, what do we do?

CROW : We'll leave it to Camus. It's not our decision to make.

EMMA : (Camus...)

SEVEN : I’m waiting, now hand over the gun! If you can't do it, then I will.

CAMUS : The bet has already been made. The players must remain the same.

SEVEN : ........!!

CAMUS : Whether I’m capable of pulling the trigger is thrilling in its own right, is it not?

CAMUS : And... I will definitely take your eye in a rematch one of these days. So, for now, behave yourself.

SEVEN : Tsk! Haha, alright. I’m looking forward to it.

Speaking his last thoughts, Seven stepped back and in an instant seemed to slip back into his lazy, characteristic, sway.

MAM : What a nuisance... After all that racket, it came down to you anyway.

CAMUS : Yes, I apologize. By the way, Mam, if I may. I have one last thing to ask, despite the shame.

MAM : ........Hm?

CAMUS : ...My secret has been exposed. There's no need to pretend anymore.

CAMUS : So I want to say something to her.

EMMA : (Huh?)

MAM : I see. So you’re also in a difficult position.

MAM : It's important to say goodbye between lifetimes. Being a widow... it’s lonely.

CAMUS : Then, Emma, please accept this. Here.

EMMA : M-Me...?

As instructed I slowly approached Camus where he swiftly and suddenly embraced me with his long arms.

ALL : What!?

VICTOR & YMIR & REN : The fu--?

EMMA : U-Um?

EMMA : Camus, steady your mind...!

CAMUS : Thank you. With this, I know I'll be fine.

EMMA : ............Huh?

CAMUS : Now then, let's begin.

The duel was finally under way. Once, twice. And even on the third shot, no bullet was fired...

By the fourth round, it was Mam's turn, with little more than the click of the trigger echoing emptily.

CAMUS : The next round will decide it. As expected of you, Mam, you're brave.

MAM : Don't underestimate me, boy. If you've made up your mind for a game of roulette, then all that's left is to enjoy it 'til the very end.

CAMUS : Haha, there's the Mam I've known all my life. I admire your creed.

CAMUS : No matter how deep the darkness, may you always remain passionate and humane.

With trembling hands, Camus pressed the gun to his head. This was it, the moment when the match would be decided.

CAMUS : Mam, please remember. The Boss's words to never be trapped in darkness no matter what.

CAMUS : …You really shouldn't look so sad right now...

He pulled the trigger...

CLICK.

EMMA : (The fifth shot was a blank...! In that case...)

MAM : ...It's my loss…

The tense atmosphere eased, and a sigh of relief escaped. However—

SEVEN : The match isn't over... yet.

At the moment Seven muttered those words—

Mam snatched the gun from Camus's hand, pressing the barrel against her own temple.

MAM: It's only fair to see the match through to the end.

CAMUS: Mam, the wager was the Boss's position not your life.

MAM : I won't stand for it. After everything I’ve done how could I possibly face him again? — I've had enough!

Mam pulled the trigger, and a bullet fired through her.

But it wasn't a bullet fired from the gun in Mam’s hand.

MAM: Ugh...!

JOE : Hahaha! How about that, my aim gets sharper every time!

ACE : You're so cool, big brother!

CROW & ITSUKI & GRANDFLAIR : The Dark Night Duo!

EMMA : Testament...!

TESTAMENT : Haha... what a pointless match…

YMIR : Not at all. Sorry to say but your plan is ruined. Just now, Camus became the new Boss of The Bloody Lady.

TESTAMENT : Yes. Exactly as expected.

EMMA : What...!?

In the distance, we hear a terrifying roar accompanied by footsteps swiftly approaching us.

??? : Uurraaahhhhh!!!

CROW : Those are the guys they infected with the black powder.

━FLASHBACK━

MAN IN BLACK 1 : We’re agents of a family called the Kingsleys. They’re rivals of the Bloody Lady.

━END FLASHBACK━

ITSUKI : Ah, our old patients. I recognize more than a few faces...

NOAH : There must be dozens of them, this is bad.

TESTAMENT : I told them that Mam was trying to kill them.

KINGSLEYS MEMBER 1 : Bloody Lady, you bastards... You'll be done for before you know it!

KINGSLEYS MEMBER 2 : We'll get revenge for our fallen comrades!!

TESTAMENT : Haha, we're all having such a wonderful time now, aren't we?

BLOODY LADY MEMBER 1 : Ugh!

BLOODY LADY MEMBER 2 : Everyone open fire!!

EMMA : Wait, don't use those guns!!

My shout was in vain... Bloody Lady members opened fire using the guns they'd stored in the warehouse.

KINGSLEYS MEMBER 2 : Hahaha!

One by one. People hit by the bullets were swallowed by the black miasma, losing consciousness.

CROW : I'll stop them!

NOAH : Stop who? There's shooting on both sides!

CROW : Then we'll take them all out! Its the only way to keep them safe!

ITSUKI : Emma, can the Black Fairies handle being out in the open right now?

EMMA : Everyone!

NAVI : Ugh. Such a horrible situation~

NAVI : Negative human emotion is always so thick. Ah... it's too tragic.

EVAN : Ugh, those damned guns! Hey, what the hell do you guys think you're doing!?

GRANDFLAIR : Are you all okay?

HIMMEL : Don't worry. We've recovered quite a bit.

HIMMEL : That said… Trying to purify this many people? It's reckless to say the least…

EMMA : But, we have to try! Let's lend them our strength!

[beemers-hell]

Can you drop more lore on Raina???

I wish I had visual images to accompany this, but oh well lmao, anyway Raina lore beneath the cut cause i like running my mouth!

Basically, Raina's kinda just vibing! Like Bank, she was born riiiiiight before Nevada went to absolute Hell, so she has very vague memories of what Nevada was like before the madness really took over n' everything. For a while, her and her family were doing well enough surviving through the early years of Nevada's newfound apocalypse state, however, one by one, her family members would be killed off, through random incidents. Eventually, around the time she turned 11, she was the only surviving member of her family, and she was, as you can imagine, incredibly distraught about it. Confused on what to do now that she was alone in the world, the only thing she could think of was making her way to a site inhabited by the Agency, since she at least knew there would certainly be adults there.

Obviously, since she was a tween, it's not like they were gonna hire her or anything, however the site she found herself at was in need of test subjects for a new series of experiments they were conducting, and, yanno, it's not like a kid is gonna survive for very long out in the wilds anyway, so they decided to take her in as fodder. There, she would be subjected to various experiments that were meant to test a new idea some scientists had been brewing; Maybe there was a way to turn Nevadeans into ultra powerful, supernaturally gifted entities, by somehow harnessing the powers of places and entities from beyond Nevada (ie. The Other Place, Dissonance, The Betrayers)? Which would certainly beef up their soldiers, if they were able to figure it out. So, the subjects of these experiments, including Raina, would be rung through the ringer in order to try and manipulate their bodies into becoming capable of supernatural abilities. Though many of these early attempts were unsuccessful, by the time Raina was registered into the experiment, the Scientists running it had finally broke through the initial troubles they were having and were at a place where some of the experiment subjects were actually surviving, and were displaying abilities they had not wielded before. So Raina's chance of survival/success was pretty assured.

And, yanno, trying to warp the body in order to make it capable of unnatural powers is gonna involve some pretty invasive procedures/testing, and Raina was subject to that shit! But she would eventually make it through the prep stages, which involved such procedures as; A couple of brain surgeries, multiple DNA splicing procedures, many rounds of injections with various substances, etc, etc...But she made it out alive so that's good! Though her physical body had been warped, as a result of her DNA and genetic material having been spliced with that of romp material. Oh well!

Raina showed pretty promising results; the Scientists in charge of her had been wanting to develop a way to engineer a grunt into being able to teleport, and they had managed to get it figured out with Raina. So she was teleporting! It was very uncontrolled and she seemed to have developed some sort of seizure disorder as a result of the signal misfirings occurring in her brain when she teleported, but kinks like those were to be expected and they were working on ironing it out with her. Unfortunately for them though, she managed to escape when a false alarm had been called on the facility she was stuck in, and managed to teleport herself outside of the perimeter of the building. And then she just fucking BOOKED it. By now she was around 14, and she was determined to figure out how to ensure her survival without relying on any outside help, since, yanno, her first attempt at relying on someone resulted in her getting turned into a science experiment lmao.

So she worked very hard on developing her survival skills, and learned how to make do for herself out in the wastelands. She'd picked up some skills from some of her fellow experiment prisoners, and had internalized a lot of the academic information she'd been exposed to from the scientists around her, so she spent a lot of her time split between honing in her ability to survive in the apocalypse, as well as nurturing her newfound interest in science and engineering.

Not much else happened in her life for a while, she was just busy surviving and learning, but by the time she turned 18, she had come across a little group of people calling themselves "W.M.S.Q." and at this point, she figured she could make a more educated judgement on if she could trust people around her by now, so she joined their little faction as a worker for them. And they were very good to her! So she stayed with them, and that's where she's at currently. She's a fantastic worker, a very skilled marksman, and extremely gifted in the engineering department, having gotten so good at her craft that she's just straight up inventing her own specialized weapons to use, just for herself. She's learned how to use her teleportation powers to the absolute effectiveness in combat situations, as well as whatever the hell it is that her weird romp abilities allow her to do. She's a very laid back type of guy in spite of the horrors she bore at a young age, in fact, due to them, she has no sense of fear left in her! Which has been proving to be a difficulty for her, but yanno, everyone's gotta struggle with something lol

[its-the-val-pal]

Prompt #20: Hamper

If there was one thing that Val could say about his chosen training ground, it was that the sky was absolutely beautiful at night. When there was threat of rain or creatures or anything else nearby, the Seeker was forced to retreat to his makeshift tent for his rest. But when there wasn't? On nights like tonight when there were no clouds in the sky and he could see the diamonds shining high overhead? He found it to be the perfect time to sit and reflect on where he'd been and where he was going.

The latter he had no answer for. Most of the time he could sum his thoughts up as simply as not caring. But recently.. well. Recently he found himself worried about it quite a bit. His life had once been figured out. Grow old with the woman he loved. Have kids at some point, perhaps. Coast through the rest of life. He had it made. Until he'd gone and ruined it for himself again.

Again.. That's right. He'd done it before as well. Back during his tribe, when they'd forced him to leave. And then with the thieves in Limsa, when they'd told him he only cared about himself. And with various other positions in his life when he refused to believe what others said and refused to take the extended offer for help or guidance.

And then when he'd given up on himself. When he thought that certainly there was no way for him to ever control aether or use it. When he'd learned what Berrod had taught him and thought that was it. That was the limit. Not unlike when his life had become slow and boring and he decided there was no point to continue trying. Nothing else to do in the world. How very wrong he was.

Losing the love of his life had made him realize something. Well, several things really, chief among them being that he'd been in his own way for far too long. He hadn't quite hit rock bottom, but he'd certainly come close. Were it not for the mercy of one that he quite honestly hated, he likely may not be alive.

But he was. And he'd formed himself quite the itinerary for when he returned. He'd learned to mostly control his anger and could even bend that inner fire to his will for the most part, with some slight chance of misfire. Or backfire. But the skill was young yet and he was determined to learn. And determined to make everything up to everyone. To see her again. And, finally, to no longer be in his own way.