#the only thing stopping him from killing himself is the knowledge that doing so wouldn’t help his friends if he thought it would keep them

[sinoptics]

[luvyeni]

❛CUPID AND HIS ANGEL❜ ( l. know )

💬nia's notes: i seen the shoot and got hella inspired.

p. cupid!leeknow x angel!reader w. 2.5k+

warnings? yandere themes, corruption kink, talks of blood, oral (m. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, poor knowledge of greek mythology ( like zesus should strike me down), leeknow is referred to as both lk and cupid.

— 𖦹 ( youre lee knows precious angel, and he'll be damned if he shoots his arrow into your hear for anyone but himself ) !

“she is a beauty, isn’t she?” lee know stared at the photo in front of him, ready to snap his bow and arrows in half. “she isn’t a goddess by any means, just a mere angel, but she’s special.” he knew who you were, he’d been watching you since you arrived here in olympus, he already claimed you as his. “you want me to use my arrows on a useless angel?”

he didn’t mean to be so harsh, but if this male angel found out he also had an eye out on you, he’d surely try and start a war over it – and lee know didn’t bother for another war, nor did he wish bloodshed, but he’d spill the angels blood all over olympus if it meant you’d be his alone – plus the angel would never win against lee know, he was a god of course, but that wouldn’t stop him, male angels are very prideful. “please, i’ll pay you a generous amount.” lee know smiled, tapping the table. “of course.” the angel put the sack of gold on the table, lee know scooped up the bag, putting it in his pocket. “good day to you.” he turned to walk away. “so you’ll do it?” he turned back facing the angel. “consider it already done, i’ll inform you when it will take place.” he smirked walking out of the establishment.

of course he wasn’t gonna do it, no way was he gonna let you be taken from him by some lowly angel, no you deserved more than that – you deserved to be treated like the goddess you really were, spoiled with many jewels and dresses, to eat the best foods… you deserved to be with him, he could give you all that and more.

of course, he already knew where you hung out, in the fields with the other angels, he’d often watch you picking flowers, your wings fluttering behind you, perfect for him. “hi my precious little angel.”

you turned around to face the voice, with a smile, it was your friend leeknow, you smiled running over to him. “hi cupid.” you teased, he smiled, patting your head. “i told you to call me leeknow.” you chuckled. “i know, but i like teasing you.” you were so cute, so unaware of the explicit things he thought about doing to you. “are you here to stay or are you gonna go make people fall in love today.” he shook his head, he only had one person he was gonna make fall in love today – and she was standing right in front of him. “no i’m just here to watch you today, make sure you’re being the good angel i know you are.” he took a flower from your pile. “(y/n), come!” your friend called for you. “go little angel, i’ll be here when you’re done.”

he sat down watching you run over to your friend who wanted to show you something in the grass, probably a animal or something – he didn’t mind, he had business to attend to. pulling out his trusty bow, along with a single love arrow, he waited for yours and your friend to be far enough so you’d be to look at him first, but you won’t see him shoot you, before aiming the arrow, making sure to wait for the exact moment – lord knows that if he shot your friend by accident he’d sure end up killing them, he didn’t want anyone else but you, and was willing to do anything, and he couldn’t have that if he has a stupid little angel floating around here actually thinking he’d love them, no all his love was for you.

once you were in the right place, he wasted no time, letting the arrow go, shoot right in the heart, right where it needed to be. he saw you stumble, meaning the arrow did hit you – making direct eye contact with him. he smiled, and just as he planned, you dropped the flowers, waving goodbye to your friend, running over to him. “you’re back my little angel.” you smiled, he seen the look in your eyes. “pretty little angel.” he held the flower he took from you, placing it behind your ear. “leeknow, i feel- shh, i know angel, let’s get you back to my castle okay?”

lee know was ecstatic, the magic from the arrow seemed to hit faster than anyone he ever shot before, you were all over him on the ride back, to the point he had to hold your wrist down to keep you from unbuckling his pants, “angel stop it.” he sighed as you pressed warm kisses to his neck. you pouted, whining. “but why, i just want to show you that i love you so much.” he smiled, this is exactly what you wanted. “yeah? you love me?” you nodded. “yup, so so much.” he chuckled. “and i love you too angel, but you have no clue what you’re doing, just wait a little while longer, and i’ll show you exactly how you can show me how much you love me.”

as soon as you touched the inside of your castle he was taking you to his chambers, not even caring to explain to the maids, close his door, leaving you both alone. you rushed to kiss him, he finally allowed you to, it was messy, due to your lack of knowledge of how to kiss someone or do anything in a sexual nature at in general. he pulled away grabbing both your cheeks. “calm down my little angel, you don’t even know what you’re doing.” he chuckled. “let me guide you, okay? i’ll give you anything you want, just submit to me.”

Your body finally calm down some, he smiled. “good girl, now undress for me.” you untied the string of your dress, that was tied around your neck, letting it fall, uncovering your boobs, the cold air hitting your nipples. “perfect, my perfect little angel.” he brought his hands up to your nipples, pinching them, you whimpered at the sensation. “sensitive baby.”

he sat down in the chair, patting his lap. “come here pretty.” you moved to where here was, standing in between his legs. “be my sweet little angel and get on your knees for me.” you obeyed, sinking down on your knees, looking up at him. “good little angel, listen so well for me.” he caressed your face, the lovesick look in your eyes making him smile. “gonna do whatever i ask you, be a good angel for me.” you nodded. “anything.”

he let your face go, sitting back to unbuckle his slacks, pulling them down along with his underwear, his cock slapping again his abdomen, his hissed at the cold air. “are you hurt?” your eyes filled with worry, he let out a dry laugh. “no angel, i’m fine.” he groaned, stroking his cock in front of your face. “you want to show me how much you love?, prove to cupid how much you love him?” you nodded. “i do.”

he grabbed the base of his cock, bringing it to your pink glossy lips. “open for me angel.” you slowly parted your lips, he slid his cock into your mouth, moaning as he guided you down his length. “there we go angel, keep going, don’t use your teeth.” you took as much as you could, until his tip hit the back of your throat. “pretty girl, my cock is too big for your little mouth.”

you shook your head, desperate to please him, you tried to take him further down, gagging around his length. “you really want to please me little angel, you took me all the way.” he threw his head back as you worked your mouth up and down, eventually getting the hang of it. “sh-shit you’re a natural angel.” the god was losing his mind, the way your mouth worked on his cock, he had to grip the chair to keep from grabbing your head, fucking up into your mouth – not wanting to frighten you during your first time, plus you both had all the time in the world, both of you being immortal, he had all the time in the world to fuck your face, teach you and corrupt you even more than he was about to.

“fuck angel, angel i’m about to cum.” he groaned. “wanna cum in your mouth okay? gonna fill your mouth with my cum.” you hummed, he grabbed the back of your head, pushing it down until your nose poked his pubic bone. “breath through your nose angel.” he groaned out, stilling your head. “ngh, fuck angel, i’m cumming!” his cock twitched before you felt his warm cum hit the back of your throat. “mhm shit, take all my cum love.” he cursed, his cum filling your mouth.

he finally released your head; you coughed, spit and cum wetting your lips as you caught your breath. “did i do well?” your voice was scratchy due to his previous assault, he smiled at your need to please him – even though he was the cause of it. “yeah angel, you did good.” he said grabbing your cheek, wiping the cum from your lips. “now it’s time for me to show you how much i love you now.”

he helped you up, guiding you to the bed. “lay down angel.” you complied, laying down, your wings spread behind you, your skin glowing, you were truly a beauty. “such a pretty creature.” he lifted the skirt of your dress up on your waist, your white panties on display. “so fucking pretty angel.” he kissed your navel. “spread your legs for me angel.”

he sat on his knees between your legs, the wet spot in the middle of your panties, proving your arousal. “look at the mess you made angel, you love me that much?” he rubbed you through your panties. “leeknow.” you whimpered, your eyes widened at the noise that so easily came out of your mouth. “it’s normal sweet angel, it’s just you showing how much you love me.” he moved your panties to the side, your cunt soaked with your juices. “look so sweet angel, gonna let have a taste later.” it didn’t sound like a question, and lee know didn’t mean it as either, he would spend the rest of eternity in between your legs, but he was equally as desperate to fuck you, his cock swelled just at the thought. he pushed a finger into your hole, you whimpered out his name in reaction. “that feels nice angel?” you nodded. “i’ll let it slide this once angel, but when i speak to you, you use your words, okay?” he pressed a second finger at your hole. “you want another?”

“pl-please.” you moaned as he added the second finger, using his thumb to rub your clit. “sweet angel your little cunt is squeezing my fingers like crazy.” he said. “you’re barely taking them, how can you take me cock if you can’t even take my fingers.” you whined. “i-i can, i promise.”he smiled, speeding up his movements, curling his fingers. “you gotta cum on my fingers first then, gotta open you up to take my cock.”

you felt something, your thighs began to tremble, your legs trying to close around leeknows wrist, but he held them open. “s-something- shh let it out angel, this is a good thing, that means you’re about to cum, be a good angel and cum all over my fingers.” on his word, you felt yourself release, cumming on his hand. “le-leeknow.” your body convulsed as he worked you through your orgasm, pulling his fingers out, bringing them to his lips. “oh fuck angel, you taste so good.” he groaned, tapping on your sticky clit.

“you ready for cock angel?” he rubbed his length on your folds, your juices coating his cock. “y-yes.” your whimpers turned into a loud moan as he slowly entered you, the tip of his cock alone stretching your cunt. “leeknow.” he sighed, his cock sinking into your cunt, your walls gripping him like vice. “fu-fuck angel, your cunt is squeezing me like crazy.” he grunted. “relax your pretty cunt for me, let me in.” he slowly moved his hips, taking his cock out, pushing back in.

you were a mess as he slowly moved inside you, the uncomfortable feeling slowly subsiding, turning into pure pleasure. “m-more.” that’s all he needed to speed up his movements, your moans bouncing off the walls of his chambers as he fucked you. “that’s it angel, take all of my cock.” his hand toyed with your nipples, pinching them.

you felt like you were floating, the tip of his cock slamming into your cervix. “are you going dumb on my cock already angel?” he chuckled. “it’s okay love, i’ll be right here, your love will be here when you come back.” he lifted your hips fucking deeper into you.

“fu-fuck angel, gonna make you my wife.” he grunted. “give you everything you deserve.” he promised. “no one will ever be able to harm you.” you listened to his confession, unable to speak. “sh-shit you’re clenching so tight around me, gonna cum aren’t you, tell me you love me first, i want to hear you say it.” he grabbed your chin. “i-i love you, i love you so much.” you mustered out. “lee-leeknow i’m gonna cum!” you screamed.

“cum for me angel, cum for me so i can fill your little cunt with my cum.” his words alone made you yell out his name as you came, your thighs shaking. “fuck angel, you came so fast -shit- you want my cum that bad, want to have my children, give me a heir?” you nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist. “p-please.” his hips began to falter, his thrust becoming more messy. “fu-fuck angel, i’m gonna cum, gonna fill your pretty cunt up -ngh- fuckfuckfuck.” he cursed, his cum filling your cunt up. “take my cum, my little angel.”

your body laid there limp, your eyes fluttering close. “little angel are you sleepy, my cock made you that tired?” he chuckled as you nodded. “go ahead and sleep, i’ll clean your sweet body up.” that’s all you heard before you drifted off to sleep.

“you cannot enter cupids chambers right now he is-.” his door swung open, lee knows eyes opened, the angry angel making his way in. “you bastard! you’re a thief and a crook.” he yelled at the god, you can tell he was angry, because not even a prideful angel would dare do what he was doing. “you stole my gold and my angel.”

your eyes opened due to the commotion. “leeknow?” leeknows eyes darken upon hearing your voice. “you woke up my little angel with all your yapping.” he said. “your angel? she’s supposed to be mine!” the angel yelled. “enough of this.” leeknow belted. “why would i need your gold? you’re a lowlife.”he scoffed, the angel stood there fuming. “now get the fuck out before i have you killed, you’re scaring my wife.” with a snap of his fingers, two guards came in dragging the male out. “who was that?”

he turned to you, starring up at him. “just a upset customer, don’t worry about you’ll never see him again.” he dipped under the blanket, kissing your thighs. “wh-what are you doing?” you stuttered.

“gonna eat my little angels pretty pussy.”

©LUVYENI

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 9:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Jealousy, hurt feelings, tiny bit of sexual tension

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The flight back to Ord Mantell was silent. Hunter sat stiffly in the cockpit after checking on Omega. The rest of the team sat in silence under the dimmed lights.

The situation played over and over again through his brain.

Omega dropping from the vents alone. Without you. It was so hard to dispel the fear that flooded his veins like ice water.

Were you hurt? Captured? Dead!?

Then you’d entered the room with that staff, that blaster bolt so narrowly missing your head.

Why was it so important to grab that staff? Why risk your own life and Omega’s just for a few lousy credits.

I thought I knew her better than that.

Then there was that all-consuming guilt-laced horror when the pair of you fought the guards so viciously and he could do nothing but watch. Powerless. Afraid. Angry at the smugglers. Angry at you for being so reckless. Angry at himself for being able to do nothing but watch it happen.

---

The others seemed to know better than to bother Hunter right now, but you had to know why he was so upset.

Part of you knew it was you - your reckless plan that could’ve gone wrong in so many different ways.

But how was it any different from one of his plans that always seemed to turn to chaos? That tiny thought voiced defiantly, only serving to fuel the anger and frustration that boiled through your veins.

Against your better judgment you strode into the cockpit.

“Hunter, I…” you stopped as he held up a firm hand.

“Go sit down, we’re about to land. We’ll talk about this later.”

No, I want to talk about this now! The impatience rattled around inside, barely able to be contained.

“But…”

“Now.” He commanded, pointing to the seats. “I’m giving you an order, try not to disobey this one too.” His words were sharp and impossible to argue against.

“Yes sir.” You answered harshly, matching his tone.

There wasn’t much discussion upon landing, either. Nor was there any argument when Wrecker and Omega took off to celebrate their Mantell Mix tradition.

Echo and Tech disappeared soon after. The bitter taste in your mouth festered as you watched Cid carefully place the staff in her back room. You stood and walked out of the parlor.

We got the staff, we got paid, and nobody got hurt. It sounded fine to you. In fact, it sounded like success, yet you couldn’t shake that growing hurt of disappointment and shame.

That should’ve been enough. I should’ve been enough. Maybe I could’ve done more. Maybe I should’ve done less.

But the reality of it all only served to solidify the nagging knowledge that you really didn’t belong here.

Sighing, you walked faster down the street away from the figure you knew was following you.

"What the hell was that!?" Hunter growled from behind you as you stalked back to the Marauder. Clenching your jaw, you purposely ignored him, just wanting to shower, grab some food and forget about the whole thing. You were starving and could definitely use a good long nap.

“Hey!” Hunter grabbed your arm, forcing you to face him. “No. You don’t get to ignore me when you nearly got Omega and the rest of this squad killed!”

You jerked your arm free with a huff which just seemed to aggravate him further. “Omega is fine.” you snapped. “I wouldn’t have let anything happen to her. I got the job done. You got paid. What more do you want from me!? You wanna hold hands and talk about our feelings?”

Heavy, angry breaths forced themselves from your heaving chest. You were fully aware that Hunter could easily hear how quickly your pulse thundered in your ears without a chance to easily reign it back.

“I gave you a direct order and you disobeyed it!” he snapped.

You scoffed, “You all do it all the kriffing time! I don’t see you shouting at Omega when she plays by her own rules! So what’s so different when I do it!? Huh?”

Hunter was silent. You could feel the anger simmering beneath his skin. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, sounding more like a groan of frustration. "For once in your life would it kill you to use your damn head!? You almost got yourself killed out there, and I…!” He stopped himself.

“What do you care?” You spit venomously, spinning around to face him again. “According to you lot I’m just a ‘useful asset’!”

“What?” Hunter ran a hand through his hair, visibly confused.

You took a breath. “I heard you talking to Tech!”

A look of realization began to appear on his face as you looked down. “That's not - “

“No!” You interrupted angrily. “You think I'm reckless and irritable and only useful when you need me.”

“No! I didn't mean it like that. I was - “

You held up a hand to stop him. “It's fine, Hunter.” You said coldly. “At least I know my place now so thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

“But I…” Hunter stuttered, looking completely bewildered.

“Stop.” You commanded. “I said it's fine. It hurt, but I forgive you. Everything's fine.”

He could only watch as you stormed down the ramp, leaving him in a cold silence as it hissed closed behind you.

He sat unmoving for what seemed like hours.

The hatch opened again after a few minutes and for a brief second, Hunter felt his heart race raising a hopeful gaze as the ramp slid down but it was only Wrecker clamoring up the ramp with a crate of thermal detonators. He set them down and raised an eyebrow sticking a thumb out behind him towards the open door. “What’s with her?”

Hunter sighed, “Don’t ask.” Shoulders slumped, he turned and headed into the cockpit. Maybe he could convince Tech to let him help with one of his projects. He could use the distraction.

Tech glanced up as Hunter all but fell into an empty chair. He raised an eyebrow. “Is everything alright?”

“She heard us talking the other night,” said Hunter.

A look of confusion flashed across his face for a split second before quickly realizing what his brother was referring to. “Oh!” Tech looked up, “So then, I assume she now knows how you feel, and judging from your facial expression and closed off body language, she does not reciprocate those feelings.” Tech paused and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I am sorry.”

Hunter shook his head. “No, she only happened to hear you say that she’s a ‘useful asset’!” He glared at his brother as though to blame him for the entire misunderstanding.

“Ah..” Tech put a finger to his chin in thought. “That is most unfortunate.”

Hunter slumped lower in his seat. “Yep… and what’s worse is that she heard me agree with you and now she thinks that’s how we all feel about her.”

“But that was only a small sample of our conversation and very much taken out of context. If she had stayed and listened a bit longer she would have realized this.”

“Well she didn’t, and now she thinks I hate her.”

Tech frowned. “Per our conversation, that is quite the opposite of the sentiments you expressed.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Perhaps you should speak with her about it. Explain to her that what she overheard when she was eavesdropping, was entirely incorrect.”

Hunter shook his head.

“Or I could tell her if you prefer,” Tech continued helpfully.

“No!” Omega leapt from her room, bypassing the ladder entirely, and landed on her feet with a thud, nearly tripping over Gonky as she slid into the cockpit in front of them.

Hunter’s head snapped up in alarm.

“No.” She repeated adamantly, “Do not. Please do not. The last thing she needs to hear from us is blaming her for the miscommunication!”

“Speaking of eavesdropping…” Hunter crossed his arms, looking at his sister who responded with a sheepish grin. He rolled his eyes, not able to help the smirk that pulled at his lips at her antics.

“What? It’s a small ship. I can hear everything.”

“I wasn’t blaming her.” Tech said defensively. Hunter’s face fell again as Tech brought their attention back to the matter at hand.

“Well she’ll probably think we are if you say it like that.” Omega told him.

“She won’t talk to me.” Hunter shook his head, “Besides, she left after I yelled at her.”

Omega looked up at him with a grimace, “You did sound really mad…”

Hunter winced at the blame that flashed nearly imperceptibly through her eyes. “She almost got both you and herself killed during that last mission!” His voice grew hard again. “She’s reckless and I hate it!” His voice grew softer, “I can’t wa- ”

A scoff interrupted his lament as both Tech and Omega sported alarmed looks. Hunter turned to see you leaning against the bulkhead, face contorted in a mixture of anger and hurt. He could see the telltale shine of unshed tears you fought so hard to hide. Hidden from the world but not from him. Hunter noticed everything - especially when it came to you.

You chuckled dryly. “Nice to know how you really feel.” Your voice cracked, desperately straining to hold back tears. “I came to apologize and hear what you were going to tell me before I left. I gave it some thought, you know? I thought, ‘maybe I did misunderstand him’.”

You shook your head, “But no…. I guess I was right.” You spun around, heading to your bunk, pushing past Echo who’d returned just in time to witness your words.

“Wait…” Hunter stood up, calling after you but you did nothing to let him know you’d even heard him.

Quickly taking a few steps forward, fueled by a burning need not to let you slip through his fingers again, he grabbed your arm, spinning you around.

You let out a gasp as your back hit the cold of the wall, feeling a strange warmth sink into your bones as he pressed you in place.

No. You didn’t want to be here. Hunter didn’t want you to be here.

But yet…

All was silent as you found your eyes drawn up to his. A painful longing drove a wedge in an ever widening crack in the wall you’d so carefully thrown up to protect yourself from him.

This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong.

“Please…” he was practically begging now. Then he froze.

There it was again. That scent. The one that drove him crazy. The one he’d smelt on you when you’d come out of the fresher just a few days ago.

“Hunter!” Your voice had an edge to it.

No matter the hurt, leaving was the best option. You couldn’t stand how these mixed signals, sending you spinning one way and then the other.

He groaned, “Will you please calm down and let me explain!?”

"Calm down!?" The moment was broken and the anger returned, hot and fierce, sending rivers of steel to reinforce the shoddily crafted walls, turning it into a fortress. He would not break through so easily.

Not now. Not ever. He made his choice.

You ripped your arm from his grasp and spun around, anger blazing through your eyes. “Go kriff yourself, Hunter!” You turned to leave but spun back around, eyes blazing. “Actually, no. Go kriff Tara!”

The anger and hurt bubbled over. If he wouldn’t be honest with you, at least he could be honest with himself.

Conscious thought was gone. Emotion spewed like venom. “I saw you getting cozy with her at Cid’s so you obviously have feelings for her!” You spun back around, forcefully grabbing your go-bag from the foot of your bunk and strapping your blasters tightly around your thigh and another at your side. Without a second glance, the ramp hissed open and you strode out, missing how Hunter’s mouth fell open in a confused, but reluctant understanding as the ramp hissed shut behind you.

Oh. The realization soaked him to the bone as if he’d been woken up by a bucket of ice water.

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[simplyluunaa]

˙⊹ ੈ✰[Stopping them from killing]✰ ੈ⊹˙

-ˏˋ. rules + masterlist ˊˎ-

Fandom: Danganronpa 

Characters: Gundham Tanaka, Nagito Komaeda, Teruteru Hanamura

Warnings: !!NOT SPOILER FREE!! This one especially has many many spoilers from SDR2. This one refers to Nagito’s plan in the first chapter, not the fifth

Tags: Mentions of death, plotting murders, kinda ambiguous ending?

A/N: This one has been marinating in my brain for a while, so I finally put it into words. Also, I apologize if posting has been a little slow or the posts haven’t been quality, I had some personal stuff going on but it’s all getting resolved, so I may start posting more frequently!!

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢Gundham Tanaka

It had been two days in the funhouse when Gundham hatched his plan. He’d go to the final dead room, figure out the secret of the funhouse, and use his knowledge and perhaps a few weapons to fight Nekomaru, and one of them would be the sacrifice needed to free all the others

The two of you had been spending a lot of time together, both from him wanting to protect you and him wanting to spend his final days with you

He would be sad to leave you, but he would never forgive himself if he let everyone else idle around and die from starvation

You had been sleeping in your own room most nights, but for some reason, this night you had a feeling of dread you couldn’t shake

So, you head over to Gundham’s room, asking to spend the night with him

He knows his plan is ruined if he lets you, but he doesn’t have the heart to refuse you

So, he lets you stay with him

Cuddling in his bed, he starts to hatch a new plan

One that doesn’t involve him leaving you alone

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢Nagito Komaeda

Nagito had everything planned out perfectly

The knife was under the table, the AC and irons were set up, and the lamp

All he had to do was wait

Unfortunately, he didn’t plan on one thing

That was you

When the lights went out before he could lean down and follow the lamp cord, he grabbed onto him, spooked by the sudden blackout

He knew he couldn’t push you off, that would be suspicious, and that would make the trail far too easy

So, he stayed still

Obviously, this was a result of his luck, but he couldn’t tell if it was good or bad

On one hand, it could be seen as good, saving a life

On the other, it meant that hope wouldn’t be able to blossom

He had a lot to think about the next day

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡⟢Teruteru Hanamura

He didn’t want to kill anyone

But he also didn’t want Nagito to kill anyone, and with Nagito having revealed his plan to kill someone during the party…Teruteru knew he had to do something

He felt as if he didn’t have a choice

He had to protect them from Nagito’s twisted plan

He had it all planned out, during the blackout he could go under the building, and stab Nagito when he tried to grab the knife

He was the only one in the kitchen, so it would be easy for him to slip away

At least, it would've been

Instead, halfway through the party, you came to the kitchen, deciding to keep him company

The plan slipped his mind at that moment, and he allowed you to sit and watch him do his thing

When the blackout hit, he realized

He couldn’t just leave, and if you did leave you would probably ask where he was going, or maybe ask to come with him…

He had to stay with you

When the lights came back on, an announcement played on the monitors, stating a body had been discovered

Rushing to the dining room, Teruteru’s worst fear was now a reality

Hajime Hinata, dead on the ground, a knife plunged into his chest

[boolger]

So long as I'm your favorite toy ☆ COD fanfic

Originally posted on my AO3, where I post all my stuff. Always read the tags of my fanfics. The title is from Jazmin Bean's song favorite toy.

☆fem!reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley ☆ explicit. MDNI ☆ 1,655 words

☆summary: There was something wrong with Simon. You knew that, had a bad feeling whenever you were together with him, felt like he could tear you apart with his teeth whenever you saw him. Yet, here you were, once again. Together with him, with that bad feeling in your stomach, your instincts telling you to run away, telling you that he could hurt you. He sometimes did. You tried ignoring the feeling, tried not to think too much about it, about how he screamed danger. About how he used you like a toy.

☆tags: dead dove do not eat, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, stalker!Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Alternative universe, serialkiller!Simon 'Ghost' Riley or well its hinted at, BAD bdsm etiquette, bdsm, humiliation, degredation, verbal humiliation and abuse, non-con elements, squirting, car sex, semipublic, rough.

☆☆MDNI☆ Dead dove do not eat☆MDNI☆☆

extra warnings / note: This is just straight up an abusive relationship. Reach out for help at the proper resources in your country if you’re in one of these and maybe don’t read this fic. Simon doesn’t r*pe but reader does acknowledge that he probably wouldn’t stop if she asked him to. Also this is not proper and safe BDSM. Bdsm shouldn’t be like this, even if it’s cnc or free use. If you use your safeword, that should be respected and acted on. It is hinted that Simon is a serial killer, but he doesn't actually kill anyone, only mentions it.

There was something wrong with Simon. You knew that, had a bad feeling whenever you were together with him, felt like he could tear you apart with his teeth whenever you saw him. Yet, here you were, once again. Together with him, with that bad feeling in your stomach, your instincts telling you to run away, telling you that he could hurt you. He sometimes did.

You tried ignoring the feeling, tried not to think too much about it, about how he screamed danger. About how he used you like a toy.

He said it was bdsm and to a certain point you agreed. But in proper bdsm both parties respected each other, even when there was degradation involved. No matter how rude one was to the other, in a healthy bdsm relationship there would still be respect, there would still be the knowledge, respect and acceptance that if one party said stop the other would do so immediately.

… you weren’t so sure that Simon would.

Sure, you had a CNC kink, but even when that was practiced, a safeword was in place - and technically you had a safeword, but you doubted Simon would actually stop.

It was a dangerous game. Toxic. Unhealthy. You should really stop, really get out of whatever it was that you had going with him.

Yet, here you were, together with him. Again. He had texted you and you had come running like a desperate, shaking puppy, craving attention, even if it was technically the wrong kind.

Like a toy, ready to be played with.

“Fuck,” he snarled in your ear, “you’re such a fucking whore, yet your pussy is so tight all the time.”

A whimper left you, your eyes fluttering shut as you shook, his cock ruthlessly trying to bully its way deeper into your poor shaking body.

Sometimes, sometimes , he was nice afterwards, after fucking you, after using you however he wanted. His fingers running along your abused skin, littering it with kisses, muttering about keeping you for himself. His own little whore, pretty girlfriend in his house, his wife waiting for him when he got home, homemade food ready for him.

You knew he didn’t mean it. Or at least, you hoped he didn’t. The two of you never talked about it afterwards, he never mentioned wanting something else than the whole fuckbuddies thing you got on. You didn’t even know where he lived, if he actually had a house, hell, you didn’t even know what he did for a living. For all you knew, he could be a monster or a CEO, a cashier behind the counter in a supermarket or a handyman. You had no idea. You tried not to care. It wasn’t like he asked about you either… though he sometimes just seemed to know a little too much. Or he at least hinted at know.

The way it squelched as he fucked you made you dizzy, you body already hurting from the position you were in. You were in his car in the backseat, trying to pretend that you weren’t afraid you were going to get caught, your knees over his shoulders, you body bent in half, thighs almost touching your chest. You were crying - you didn’t know when you started doing so, but you couldn’t stop. Besides, Simon didn’t mind it. He just fucked you harder, making the entire car rock to his thrusts, even leaning down to lick off your tears, calling you needy, pathetic, a whore.

You had already come twice. Maybe that was why you always came back, the orgasms were fantastic and plenty. Simon might be a mean bastard but he always made you come at least 3 times every time you saw him.

“Fuuuuuuck, princess,” he moaned, one hand on your neck, squeezing a bit while the other was on the car door, giving him something to hold onto, “you’re so fucking wet - gonna squirt, huh? Squirt all over my fucking car seats? Make it - fuck - make it dirty and all wet, huh?”

You sobbed, trying to shake you head. “No no no pleased down, Simon it’ll - fuck - ah ah ah—“

“Fucking whore,” he continued, “I’ll have to get ir cleaned then, won’t I? Tell the staff how it got so dirty?”

You sobbed, only moans and wails interrupting them. You didn’t want to squirt, he would never let you hear the end of it, you already knew.

“C’mon then, lass,” he moaned, his cock hitting you even harder; it hurt, hurt so badly yet so perfectly as you cried.

“No no no - Simon - Simon - stop, I’m gonna -“ you tried begging him but it was already too late.

Despite Simon’s strength, his cock was forced out by your body as you squirted, but he merely slapped his tick member against your cunt instead, hitting your clit. He forced your body to continue, his hand moved from your throat, instead holding onto your ankle, keeping you open for him, using the other hand to tap his cock against you. It was like it kept coming, making you scream and twist in the cuffs he had forced you into earlier.

It was soaking his entire lower body and the seats, the shame worse than you had expected; you had sprayed your juices all over his thighs and it was dripping from yours too, when your body finally finished. He was moaning, somehow making that degrading and you could barely hear the words that followed, too gone.

He was on you again, forcing you into the same position, your poor, wet and puffy cunt stretched again as he filled you once more, making you squeal. Your sight was blurry and his hand was on your jaw then, grip bruising, as he forced you to look at him. You barely understood the words he said, something about fucking you dumb - but you felt the spit that then hit you cheek, splatting all over your face, making you whimper.

He continued to fuck you, as if he was some fucking machine, growling like a dangerous animal in a rut, unable to stop breeding you.

“I would kill for this pussy,” he moaned, eyes dark as he met yours, fucking grinning, a sight that made your toes curl and stomach twist,  “do you want me to kill for you, huh??”

“Noo,” you whined, shaking your head, making him laugh.

“I fucking would, princess,” he growled, making you cry again. It was getting too much, everything felt overwhelming, your poor pussy almost in pain - but somehow he forced another orgasm from you. It made your entire body shake and finally, fucking finally he came with a loud, primal-like scream, filling you up with his cum.

You panted beneath him, knowing you looked like an absolute mess. Sweaty, drool running from the edge of your mouth, his spit on your face; your own juices running down your lower body and his cum would no doubt drip out the moment he pulled out.

He was softening inside you, yet he still leant down, your poor legs hurting and still bent, kissing you. He kissed like he fucked you. Dominating and controlling, forcefully yet so fucking wonderful. You moaned and gasped into his kiss, making him smile smugly. Simon pulled back, just a tad, your faces so close.

You felt a shiver run along your spine at his words, nausea appearing in your stomach.

“I meant it you know,” he whispered, all lovingly, “I would kill for you, princess.”

You let out a small sound.

“I don’t want you to,” you answered weakly, voice shaking a little. He looked cold just for a second as he replied.

“Then don’t give me a reason to.” 

Simon grinned all happily then, straightening up and pulling out, cum immediately oozing out, giving your ass a hard smack, just to watch you clench and twist for a second as you wailed.

“Get dressed,” he then said, opening the car door behind him, casually stepping out all naked, “I’ll drop you off.” 

He stepped to the front door then, putting on his boxers, his own clothes on the seat all neatly. Then he reached into the small cup holder in the front, picking up the key for your cuffs.

You awkwardly turned around and he moved again, opening the cuffs and your arms hurt from behind beneath you for so long. Your eyes flickered to him as you reached for your clothes. But Simon was quicker than you. Without even looking apologetic, he reached down to pick up your clothes at the car floor, rummaging through it for a second until he found your panties. 

You knew not to argue.

You got dressed quickly, knowing he wasn’t always patient.

You felt his cum seeping into the fabric of your skirt as you sat down at the passenger seat next to him a minute later, hoping it wouldn’t drip onto this seat too.

Simon turned on the car, fully dressed himself, the radio automatically starting to some low rock music. He drove from the forest casually, his hand resting on your thigh whenever he wasn’t changing gears.

“Are you busy this saturday?”

You were. But he never liked it when you were.

“Only in the evening,” you answered carefully.

“Good. I’ll pick you up then.”

That was that. A little while later he dropped you off after a bruising kiss.

You stumbled into your apartment a few minutes later, body sore and dirty, discarded like a used toy that he was done playing with. You knew there was something wrong about him. The words about killing for you made you feel bad as they replayed in your mind again, as you quickly stripped, stumbling towards the shower to clean.

You should stop seeing him. Start dating. Get a partner, a good one, a loving one. Yet… yet you were going to go Saturday when he texted you. Like a good toy should.

[awkwardandeccentric]

I cannot stop watching the first four minutes of Apology Tour because it’s so well-acted and animated (especially Bryan Pinkham, oh my god he was told Stolas was a cunt this episode and he delivered).

Stolas admittedly got petty when he brought up Striker and reminded Blitz that Blitz wasn’t there when he was being tortured and was almost murdered. But I think he knows Blitz was prioritizing his child and while it may hurt, as a father himself, he doesn’t actually hold it against Blitz for not being there.

What I think is actually cutting him up is that the guy he’s in a situationship with and in limerance with (meaning intense, obsessive crush), never showed up to see him at the hospital and kept making excuses to to not talk to him after he was tortured and almost murdered.

Like, fuck man. That has to hurt. That has to feel like a stab to the gut. We know as the audience that Blitz is keeping himself at a distance because of his self-hatred and complicated feelings and guilt, but Stolas doesn’t.

And shoutout to @timkontheunsure for finding this:

To be very quickly followed up by Blitz admitting he already knew Striker was trying to kill Stolas, even if he didn’t take it seriously (I take it at face value that Blitz didn’t think of Striker as a threat to Stolas. He took the assassination attempt itself seriously but had no reason to think Striker would attempt a second time and especially be successful. He seemed genuinely shocked that Stolas could be killed in Western Energy).

So, from Stolas’ POV: you’re have this intense, obsessive crush on your situationship. The other guy does not take it seriously that you were badly injured, never saw you in the hospital, is avoiding seeing you after you get out of hospital, sent you pictures of your torturer’s horse as memes, and then admitted that he already knew your torturer had plans to murder you while calling your a racist. Stolas probably believes Blitz does not care if he lives or dies. And while we as the audience agree that Stolas has racial blindness to work on, I’m sure the first time he’s ever had to think about race/class dynamics being when he’s being tortured is not giving him any motivation to check himself on it. I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole topic throws him into a PTSD episode. This is especially heartbreaking because Stolas is making an effort to hide an injury he still has from Striker, most likely because he’s royalty and royalty have to appear strong at all times.

Sometimes I wonder if Blitz knows if Stolas wasn’t a pacifist, he would have murdered him ten times over by now.

And Stolas’ little drunken speech at the end is so fucking sad. I think he’s being literal when he says he wants someone to care if he stays or goes, but also euphemistic. He wants someone to care if he leaves the morning after, but he wants someone to care if he’s fucking murdered or not.

My sad birb, the bar cannot be this low.

And I think it’s going to be another thing that makes things very complicated and vitriolic between them. On Blitz’s end, you have the racism/classism and the power dynamic. On Stolas’ end, you have the knowledge that your situationship only wanted to see you for your access to the human world (there’s no way he didn’t figure that out after months of being left on read, which he mentions in S1E1) and probably wouldn’t have known if you passed at the hospital because he had no intention of seeing you. And Stolas deserves to have that hurt acknowledged. All the birb wanted was a “hey I’m glad you’re not dead here’s a little kiss on the forehead and a horse movie to keep you entertained.” That’s it. The bar is so low it’s six feet under Hell and it still wasn’t met.

And Stolas’s response was to get a little petty one time when they were already arguing? My ass would be using this to win every argument from now until Armageddon.

“Stolas did you do the dishes?”

“IDK Blitz. Did you come visit me in the hospital after Striker tried to gouge my eyes out?”

[pianokantzart]

Broken Warp Pipe AU

Based off of a concept by @multicolour-ink and @wiz-witch​ where the warp pipe in Brooklyn breaks down, leaving Mario and Luigi stranded separate dimensions: X.

From there I just went off the rails.

Mario (Brooklyn Side)

Mario has not stopped working toward finding a way to The Mushroom Kingdom since he and Luigi were separated, and has run himself ragged in the process.

He started off trying to discover if there is a working warp pipe somewhere else in the world. After all, if there was one just under their noses in Brooklyn, surely there’s another somewhere! He just needs to search, and search hard.

He’s always on the move, working some side-gigs to stay afloat while spending every second of free time pursuing and studying warp pipes. He eats bad, sleeps bad, and even smokes sometimes when he’s sleep deprived and can’t focus (though he always feels guilty about it afterward. Luigi would NOT approve.)

Mario hates being alone, but spends most of his time alone, because he feels that’s what he deserves at this point. He’s reached so many dead ends he feels like he’s already failed his brother, but refuses to slow down all the same.

When he’s feeling particularly hopeless or lonely, sometimes he talks to nobody as though he’s talking to Luigi. This helps a little. 

He calls his family every couple of months to let them know he’s okay, and to see if there’s any sign that the Brooklyn warp pipe is working again. These phone calls are brief, and he never properly explains where he is or what he’s doing.

 Mario has stolen (and usually returned) many ancient artifacts and documents, and broken into many a location trying to uncover a warp pipe. He hasn’t hurt anyone, but his impatience and determination has earned him a bit of a criminal record in the human world. 

In his travels, Mario found one or two working warp pipes, but they led to weird alternative dimensions not even close to The Mushroom Kingdom. He has done some heroism in these places whenever the situation presents itself (he’s still a good guy), and has been rewarded with helpful information about warp pipes and how they work.

Through knowledge he gleaned from his travels, combined his own advanced skills with traditional plumbing, Mario eventually pieces together how to repair warp pipes, which he uses to fix his own pipe back in Brooklyn.

Luigi (Mushroom Kingdom Side)

When Mario first got trapped in Brooklyn, Luigi desperately tried to fill his brother’s shoes until he returned. When Bowser inevitably reattempted to destroy The Mushroom Kingdom, Luigi tried to channel his brother by taking the tyrant on alone. He was very nearly killed as a result. DK, Toad, and Peach successfully fended off Bowser in the end, but Luigi was left physically and emotionally scarred in a way he has not quite recovered from.

Luigi still does his best to be a hero despite everything, but is only barely functional unless he has someone backing him up. Princess Peach sticks close to him whenever possible, and Toad is ecstatic to have him as a friend and adventuring buddy.

 Luigi has an official place on the Toad Brigade, and is happiest when he’s doing missions with them.

He eventually develops into one of the most formidable heroes in the dimension, especially after he gains the powers of the thunder hand. He rarely gets recognition for this though, because he very much does not behave like the traditional hero, and far prefers the sidekick position. He wouldn’t have it any other way.  

Luigi does not spend a lot of time in his and Mario’s house, save to keep it clean and tidy. He has not moved any of his brothers things, except to keep them dusted. A part of him still holds out hope that he’ll be back one day.

Princess Peach hooked Luigi up with an apprenticeship with Professor E. Gadd during one of his slumps, and he spends most of his nights sleeping over at the lab. The professor is happy to have him around; Luigi keeps the place so neat and organized, and makes the best cup of coffee!

Though they have some wardrobe changes, both Mario and Luigi have their original hats, and are extremely protective of them. 

[k-s-morgan]

Why did Will reject Hannibal after Muskrat farm? I see a few justifications saying that Will was tired after Hannibal almost eats his brain and is fucked up by Mason, but that doesn’t seem reason enough.

Will also talks about the rejection when he visits Hannibal in TWOTL, saying Hannibal would only turn himself in if Will rejected him. What was Will’s intent here?

Hi! So, this is a very complex arc that has many interpretations. This is how I see it - and I'll start from the start of S3 because it's important to keep track of the change of Will's attitudes.

In the first several episodes, Will is operating under the knowledge that Hannibal loves him, and his emotions come to the surface more openly. He can't and doesn't want to move on: the first thing he does upon waking up is voicing his pain at Hannibal leaving him to die, then berating himself for lying to him, then realizing Hannibal left him alive deliberately and that he wants to be found. Will begins to analyze their conversations and quickly figures out where he should go to look for him. After being released from the hospital, he starts building a boat to travel to Hannibal by sea. The nature of this action is romantic by itself - also, this scene is intercut with his Mizumono memories, namely, with Hannibal's face that emerges every time he moves yet another part of the engine. This is a vivid demonstration of Will trying to repair what is now broken. He openly admits to Jack that he wanted to run away with Hannibal.

Similarly, Will spends some time sitting in Hannibal's empty house. He is pining hard, his feelings are so intense that he no longer even bothers to hide them from Alana and Jack. The whole E2 is Will's love letter to Hannibal - he's reverent about him, he thinks about him non-stop, and he tries to find him very hard, even literally chasing him down. He even lies at the place where Hannibal left him his "broken heart," as if needing closer physical contact.

Things begin to shift as Will meets Chiyoh. I feel like Will starts drawing comparisons between them and comes to a conclusion that Hannibal doesn't love him after all. That if he abandoned Chiyoh, whom he was supposed to love, so easily, for so many years, without bothering to return to her, then maybe he's just not capable of love. Will's torn now, wondering if he was mistaken about Hannibal's feelings as well as about his and Abigail's importance because if Hannibal left his family so easily once, who’s to say he wouldn’t do it again? Will is insecure by nature, he often doubts himself, and textually, that's the first time when he starts considering killing Hannibal again. Seeing Bedelia as his replacement just reinforced this idea, so Will returned to his bitter and vengeful state, hence his half-attempt with a knife in Dolce.

After Hannibal reacts to this attempt by trying to (half-heartedly) saw Will's head open, and then the whole disaster with Mason happens, it all becomes a breaking point for Will. The initial excitement and determination he felt have passed. He has grown disillusioned, bitter, hurt and hurtful once again. He's tired, he's no longer certain of anything, and he needs to re-retreat. It's similar to how people often feel a boost of energy to do something daring, but at some point, they lose this spark. They stop feeling like they could move the mountains, and Will feels it, too.

He rejects Hannibal because of this, as I see it. He doesn't know what he wants again, he isn't sure Hannibal loves him, and he's no longer willing to break the fragile, shattered semblance of normalcy he has been cultivating for decades. He's clinging to what he's used to instead of jumping head on into something new and mysterious, even if it's much more exciting. Will has no strength for excitement and passion right now.

I never quite bought that Will knew for sure that Hannibal would give himself up if he rejected him. Yes, Will was probably lying when saying he wanted everything to be over, and maybe on a subconscious level, he hoped for some grand proof of love, but I don't think he could be actually sure that something like this would happen. For one thing, Hannibal's response is genuinely unexpected - just in Mizumono, he gutted Will after his betrayal; in Dolce, he attempted to kill him after Will betrayed him again. Giving himself up is something new - Hannibal has grown a lot during these months and days, but Will doesn't know it. Also, I don't think Will is nearly confident enough about his place in Hannibal's life to predict that Hannibal would give up his freedom for him. In addition, he just strikes me as surprised and pained when he sees Hannibal's surrender.

So, maybe Will was thinking about it a lot afterward, and during that moment in prison, he wanted to hurt Hannibal, so he exaggerated the depth of his manipulation.

If this is the case, then why did Will want to hurt Hannibal at all later? In my opinion, it's for several reasons. Will is feeling extremely petty. He's hurting Hannibal just because he can - he now fully realized the power he holds over him, and he's enjoying it. He's paying him back for everything he's still angry and hurt over. It's possible that he's also playing it up for the cameras, making Jack and Alana believe that he's leaving for good and wants nothing to do with Hannibal. That would make his break out plan easier. He lies not just to Hannibal here, he lies to everyone who's watching. He claims he had nothing to do with setting up Chilton, even though he took the responsibility for him with Bedelia; he claims he's going back to Molly, even though they broke up.

[artful-aries]

Can I please have How they flirt headcanons for zhongli scaramoche and Childe? Thank you in advance 🤗

Hello hello!!! I have no excuse for taking so long to put out content other than my job killing me and getting distracted with oil painting

How They Flirt With You (Zhongli, Scaramouche, Childe)

Zhongli:

His flirting is as refined as osmanthus wine

He is very gentlemanly when he flirts; chaste, grazing touches, deep, meaningful looks, and his willingness to jump at your beck and call are very prevalent as he seeks to woo you

Zhongli wouldn’t overload you with compliments, that would make it seem like he only cares for your physical appearance or that he is too obsessive. When he does compliment you, it is pure poetry that falls from his lips

“Your eyes shine like the purest noctilucous jade. For all of the wonders of Teyvat, you are certainly the most captivating.”

He knows his compliments can come off pretty strong in their own right, which is why he keeps them to a minimum unless he is absolutely sure that you are okay with it

None of his flirtations would come across as needy or desperate, he is calm, cool, and collected as he effortlessly but respectfully flirts with you

Being as old as he is, he does not clam up when it comes to things of this nature, nor is he afraid of the possibility of rejection. It’s all part of the mortal experience that he wishes to see more of

The unfortunate part of Zhongli’s flirting is that he can be incredibly long winded and wind up telling you the whole history of processing silk flowers into usable fabric before he can think to stop himself

He tries to pay attention to what you’re interested in, but if a topic comes up that he’s knowledgeable about, he can’t help himself but to delve deep into the topic with you

It’s not that he’s trying to show off in a conceited way, but Zhongli does like showing you that he is knowledgeable and capable in a wide variety of subjects. He just has a hard time reigning himself in once he gets started.

If you decide to flirt back with him, his demeanor isn’t going to change much other than he’s going to have a soft smile permanently plastered to his face

The way you flirt amuses him, but it makes a warmth seep deep into his heart, and his hands tingle slightly as he practically eats up your flirtations

He wants nothing more than to kiss you in these moments, but Zhongli is going to bide his time and wait. Like stone, he knows his feelings are not subject to change for a long, long time, but mortals can be fickle with their affections. He wants to wait and see how serious you are about him before trying to take things to the next step

Scaramouche:

Chant “tsundere” in the mirror three times and Scaramouche will appear

When he starts developing a crush, he’s going to deny it to himself for a while. What use is a crush to him?

As the feelings only continue to grow as he’s around you, he has two options; avoid you, or bully you (these are clearly the only two rational options for when you have a crush on someone)

Scaramouche will attempt to avoid you first, going weeks meticulously avoiding you before he finally just gives up. It’s clearly not working for him, if anything, it’s making his thoughts of you worse

So, dropping back into your life like he never left in the first place, he starts bullying you

He never gets physical and doesn’t say absolutely horrendous things, but he will frequently imply that he thinks you’re an idiot or a weakling

You might genuinely think he just hates you, and rightfully so. Yet if you ever actually get genuinely upset with him, especially to the point of storming off or giving him the silent treatment, Scaramouche will internally panic

He won’t apologize, at least not outright, but it is very easy to see the shift in his demeanor. He makes sure that you’re in earshot to hear him say nice things about you to others, or he just sort of hangs around you as though he’s silently begging you to forgive him

When you do finally start talking to him again, he can’t help but feel a little giddy even though it makes him feel weak and pathetic

From there, his flirting actually begins, but he’s certainly no charmer. Scaramouche is still as abrasive and hard to get along with as ever, but he does random acts of kindness for you now. He’ll call you an idiot, but give you bundles of your favorite snack. He’ll scoff at you cooing over a cute cat, but will sneak a cat plush he made himself that looks just like the kitten you were cooing over the other day into your belongings

If you decide to flirt back, he’ll laugh and ask if you’re serious. When you confirm that you are in fact serious with your words, a blush will develop on his cheeks, and he will finally be rendered speechless instead of running his smart mouth

Childe:

This man is quite the tease, and it’s hard to tell when he’s just looking to get a reaction out of you or when he’s being genuine in his flirtations

He’s touchy to a fault. He sees no problem with hoisting you up randomly over his shoulder and carrying you off somewhere. The way you fluster and struggle against his hold his just so cute to him, you can’t expect him to behave when you give him such nice reactions

If you gave indication that you would genuinely start hating him for being so handsy, Childe would reign it in. As much fun as it is to push your buttons, he doesn’t want you to hate him

His touchiness doesn’t completely die, but it’s a lot more gentle and sweet, more like proper flirtation rather than borderline manhandling you

With his connections to Northland Bank, he likes to spoil you just a little bit with gifts. Nothing extravagant since you’re not dating yet, but just nice little sentimental things to show that he’s thinking of you even when he can’t pry himself away from his work

Childe also flirts by showing off, especially when it comes to fighting. He makes sure that the fight is never too dangerous or scary, but he wants you to see him absolutely decimate his enemies

It’s like he’s showing you how strong he is, that you can rely on him if you wanted to

That being said, he definitely gets a little cocky and gets himself hurt a time or two, but that just gives him an excuse to play up the injury a little so he can get you to tend to him

He will totally give you flirtatious winks and teasing remarks as you help him apply bandages to his bare torso, saying that surely you must have been dreaming of the day he got hurt so you could do this

This would be your chance to turn the tables on him and get him flustered. Shoot him a teasing remark back or let your hand ghost over the curves of his muscles and the man will turn as red as his hair

Childe loves a competition though, and will ramp up the flirty comments and gestures until you give up and walk out a blushing mess or you give in and finally kiss his stupid lips already

He knows that no matter which way things will turn out, it’ll be all the more thrilling for him

The Harbinger totally doesn’t mind staying in the flirting stage for a while; he almost likes the chase more than the reward. Almost.

[paradlselost]

CRIMSON.

JOHN SEED X FEMALE DEPUTY

Sort of a dump, I was really debating on just publishing this as a WIP but I was halfway through the smut and decided to just finish it. Not my best, but I tried to go for a more canon accurate John, which means he’s a major freak in this sorry :/

I mentioned it in the fic but didn’t go too deep, I kinda love toying with the idea of a more selfish deputy - humanizing them. If I were to ever write a longer fic with more of an oc-ized version of the deputy would anyone read? Let me know.

I probably won’t post about John Seed or FC5 for a little while after this. I have ideas for a Black Noir (my bbg) fic and then a Father Paul Hill one from Midnight Mass cause I love religious trauma as y’all can tell. I do also like indoctrinated!deputy so maybe maybe eventually I write about that.

2.7k words

content warnings: mentions of cutting into flesh. smut — dubcon, choking, blood play (John being a freak sorry), dryhumping, oral (m receiving), fingering, debauchery in a house of God.

She should’ve known from the start, when the crackle of her radio sounded, interjecting her music with his voice; that this request was nothing but trouble. But rage had blinded her, wrath seeped into every pore in her body, selfishness.

It was never the Deputy’s plan to become the symbol for the resistance, even after the blades of the helicopter stopped, and smoke and fire billowed out from the engine. Even after Dutch saved her and enlisted her help, and despite the stories from countless other resistance members, she only really had one prerogative; save her friends. 

Hudson, Pratt, Whitehorse. Trapped in the claws of the cult, it was her duty to get them back, and despite the help she had been giving to the resistance, those were the only three people she cared about.

He knew this, stalking her like a cat preparing to pounce, he watched every facet of her life from the moment she ventured into Holland Valley that he could. A selfish little thing, ripe for his obsession.

John Seed was a proud man, bold and brave as he had so eloquently begged Jacob to put in his song. His pedestal as a Herald inflated his ego, the knowledge that without him Eden’s Gate wouldn’t have prospered nearly as much fueled his narcissism, which is why he surrounded himself with only the peggies who would do anything for him.

He isn’t sure whether new members are supposed to pledge their lives to him and the cult, but it sounds so sweet when the floor pools with the blood of their atonement and he coaxes those little words from his new followers' lips. His tongue is coated in silver, he loves this new power, and she threatens to take that from him.

He knew she wouldn’t be as proactive if he crooned to her that he had a resistance member or two, and she would swing in guns blazing if he claimed to have Hudson right beside him. So, instead he played on her curiosity, that little nudge in the back of her mind that forced her to seek him out whenever he called. Like a moth to a flame.

“Fuck you, Seed!” Voice so filled with venom it might’ve burned a hole in the floor, he tilted his head at her profanity, a sadistic grin playing on his face.

Hope County was filled with little white churches, chapels with steeples that attempted to reach to the heavens above. She assumed they were much more lively before, now most were barren except on Sundays, when the peggies who could not fit onto Joseph’s compound would listen to him under random roofs of God.

This. He chose to be under the white ceiling specifically, to call her into the thing she had been fighting against. To hear her screams echo against the chipped painting that decorated the walls, for her blood to be stained on the old wooden floorboards.

Curiosity killed the cat. She was stupid enough to venture into his trap, falling to the ground when hit hard enough over the head, and now she was stupid enough to attempt to fight off the peggies that held either arm.

“Such profanity. You’re in a house of God, Deputy, mind your tongue.” He scolded her as if she was a misbehaving child, as if everything she had ever done could be chalked up to that. A spoiled rotten brat.

His fingers danced over the tools he had brought with him, his trusty tattoo gun being at the top, but an assortment of knives he also deemed fit for this occasion. Oh, the blood she would spill for him, he became giddy at the thought.

“Get off of me-! Woah woah woah- hey stop!” Yelping, she still attempted to fight off the peggies that held her arms, she shied away when he advanced toward her, tattoo gun in his hands. He had tried this before, she knew what he was doing.

“No one here to help you now, Wrath. Don’t try and fight, your atonement will hurt much less if you cooperate.” He was too calm for this situation, a practiced art he had been through hundreds of times. It was a skill, making people spill their most intimate secrets, a skill he had perfected.

The Deputy was a fighter, through and through, though John could understand Jacobs words. She was weak without her companions, without pastor Jerome stealing her from her atonement, or Nick Rye strafing his armed convoy, she was nothing now - and it was almost endearing to him.

With her hands bound, she resorted to spitting that same venom that she held in her words, marking his perfect face with her saliva. He grimaced, wiping it off his cheek before it trailed down to his beard, pretty blue eyes flashing with that same bloodlust that dictated his every waking moment.

It was shocking to even the peggies that held her when he grabbed her by her throat, pinning her to the ground and straddling her hips. His hands shook with anger - the same wrath that he deemed consumed her now making an appearance in himself. Two sides of the same coin, two heads of a snake.

Her head ached now, body feeling as though it was echoing. A second blow to the back of her head that surely would’ve knocked her out if the pain of his tattoo gun wasn’t keeping her grounded. She didn’t know how fast he had ripped her shirt, or how long it would take for him to carve her skin, but she was reduced to pained whines and pleas for him to stop.

And he relished in the noises she made. The blood that covered his hands and trickled down her chest wasn’t an unusual sight for the herald - but her being the one under him made it all the more exciting. His Deputy, his wrath, his perfect rival. The peggies that stood above him now didn’t matter, and what are they to him anyways? Expendable followers he could use, the Deputy was everything.

“Yes yes, c’mon, keep pleading…” How could he help it? Her eyes half lidded as she looked up at him, hands no longer bound by the peggies now loosely grabbing the wrist that held the tattoo gun in an attempt to stop him. She looked so pathetic under him, so why shouldn’t he grind himself against her when his pants were so uncomfortably tight?

Her words didn’t quite reach his ears, not as he waved his followers out - who hurriedly scrambled in embarrassment. The old church was silent, save for her soft sobs and his intense breathing. His hand still placed over her neck made her choke on her words, which only fueled his desire. He could crush her windpipe, her life rested in his hands, and maybe he would’ve if the nagging reminder that she was the only way he was getting into New Eden wasn’t playing in the back of his head.

His ticket, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun with her.

He removed his hand from her neck as he finished carving into her pretty skin. WRATH, her own personal scarlet letters. He hummed, looking down at her with lustful eyes, fluttering between hers and the blood that pooled on her chest and trickled down her body to the wooden floor below.

She hated the feeling that bubbled in her chest as the pain subsided, now only a dull ache danced with the look he gave her, how he rubbed the tent made in his pants against her. No doubt, a mark had been left on her neck - his handprint, a reminder. The world felt silent at this moment, when she should've pushed him off.

Selfishness. Prioritizing that small ache he gave her over what she should be doing. Finding anything to act as a weapon against him.

But she didn’t, not as his head lowered and she was greeted with his perfectly slicked back hair, shaking hands reaching to play with a strand. A soft grumble came from his throat, tongue lapping at the blood that trickled down the valley of her chest, tasting what he had drawn out of her.

“What are you doing-?” Her voice was soft, he barely heard it over the ringing in his ears. Too long had he been subjected to resorting to his hand when he thought about her, or messing up his silk pillowcases with his pretty ropes when she teased him over the radio. He had her under him, he wasn’t going to let her go now.

“Shh.” His voice was more scolding then he meant it to be, his tongue traveling from the blood he lapped at down to her budding nipple. He wasn’t gentle, and why should he be? After everything she had messed up for him, he felt it justified to bite down on her pretty flesh, pulling at the bud as much as he wanted.

He relished in the pretty, pained moans that fell from her lips, how her back arched into it. Two sides of the same coin, both reveling in whatever pain was brought to them.

The Deputy’s head tilted back, allowing him a chance to latch onto her neck as a vampire would, smearing the blood on his lips all over her pretty skin. He bit, marking her with his teeth over the forming bruises from his handprint. His hands, decorated in the crimson from his hold on the tattoo gun traveled down her body, painting her in her own red.

He slipped his hand below the rough fabric of her jeans, being met with a contrast, soft and delicate and slightly damp. A soft grumble left his lips at the feeling; which were still pressed against her pretty neck. He felt the way her breath hitched as he ran digits over her most delicate areas. Being so close to her neck, he felt how her muscles tightened and how her breath hitched in her throat.

Lifting her hips to meet his tattooed fingers, a small admission of need. She bit her bottom lip to suppress the noises that tempted to fall from her lips - not wanting to give him the satisfaction. They were still enemies, still rivals, at least to her. 

John on the other hand seemed to be on cloud nine, relishing in how she moved against his hand, grinding herself through the fabric of her underwear. He bit down once more, slipping her out of her jeans and grabbing her hips, sitting up and pressing his pelvis against hers.

“John- John cmon…” Head thrown back, panting as she grabbed at the blue silk of his top. He tilted his head down at her, a sadistic smirk playing on his features.

He always took what he wanted, no matter who it was, and the Deputy was no exception to this. To him, it was God's Grace that placed them both here, that gave him the opportunity to rut his hips against hers.

The bulge in his covered jeans met her underwear, fucking himself against her covered cunt. He leaned down overtop of her, panting against her ear. Hot breath on her neck, the sounds of his soft moans mixing with his heavy breaths, and of course his restricted cock grazing just over her clit every couple of thrusts, it was enough to make any girl's eyes roll back.

He stopped, only for a moment, but long enough for her to let out a needy whine, lifting her head to see what he was doing. Tattooed fingers worked the EG belt off, letting his pants pool at his ankles. He wasted no time once they were off, underwear meeting underwear as the outline of his dick was much more pronounced.

“Fuck fuck, put your head back. Fucking-… good girl.” He groaned out, one hand leaving her hips and grabbing at her pretty hair, pulling her head back against the cold wooden floor of the church. She ached, head pounding and echoing from the injuries earlier - but the feeling of him fucking himself against her needy cunt kept her grounded.

In this moment, she needed him, needed this feeling to not pass out.

He tilted his own head back, sweat casting a slick sheen over his skin. A hand dipped against the drying blood on her chest, gathering what he could over his fingertips before bringing them to his lips, sucking on the bloodied digits. He groaned around his fingers, muffling the moans that threatened to fall.

The head of his cock strained against the blue fabric of his boxers, hips thrusting sloppily against her as his hand tightened on her hips, leaving pretty marks in his wake. One thrust, another thrust, and finally another before white pooled at the head, spurting out of the tiny holes in his underwear.

Panting, he finally moved his fingers out of his mouth, cleaned off the blood and tilted his head down at her almost mockingly; he got to finish, the cum that leaked from his underwear dripping down onto hers, and she didn’t get to. He relished in that, that power he had over her.

“H-hey! Not fair!”

“Oh, Deputy. Come here, maybe I’ll let you get off.”

He grinned as he stood up, fixing himself before moving back onto one of the pews, watching her scramble over to him. He had her eating out of the palm of his hand as she kneeled in front of him. Her head pounded harder, eyes a little woozy.

“Poor baby, rest your head, sweetheart.” He teased, a sadistic grin on his face as she nodded and rested against his thigh, looking up at him with those pretty eyes of hers. He couldn’t help himself, not if she looked so pretty right there in his grasp. 

He tangled his fingers in her hair, watching her confused expression as he moved the blue fabric off of his legs, dick springing up as it was freed from the confinement of his underwear. Guiding her head over it, watching her part her pretty lips to suck on his leaking tip.

Milking his cock, swallowing the spurts of salty seed that spilled onto her tongue. She drained him for all he’s worth, looking up at him as he ran his fingers through her hair. He was soft and gentle in this moment, noises falling from his lips that told her how good she was doing. She shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be sucking off John Seed of all people.

He grinned as he watched her, once he was satisfied with the way she suckled on him, he grabbed her chin and pulled her off of him. Guiding her up to her feet, he let her loom over him. She wasn’t intimidating like this, he didn’t know if it was because he had just fucked her over their clothes or because she was relying on him for an orgasm, but she seemed almost adorable.

His lips found her neck once more as she leaned against him, nuzzling her head into his shoulder. He forced her to stand, to spread her legs to allow his fingers to feel the now wet fabric of her panties. He hummed in satisfaction, moving them aside and tracing a finger over her slick folds.

A soft gasp left her lips, grabbing onto his shoulder and attempting to move back to look him in the eye. He grumbled, forcing her in that same position as he bit down on her neck, pushing a finger inside of her at the same time. He loved the moans that fell from her lips as he pumped a digit deeper inside of her.

Another finger stretched her out, deep enough to hit those nerves that made her legs tremble. She whined, shaking against him and propping herself up as he continued to pump in and out of her. He pulled away from her neck for only a moment, watching the way she buried her face against him and laughing softly.

He added one more finger before her legs fully began to tremble, grabbing onto his shoulder. Pumping more, fully reaching those nerves, which caused her to spasm around him, her orgasm flooding around his fingers. She rocked against him once or twice, chasing her high.

“Look at you, Deputy, needing me. Did I make you feel good? Use your words.”

[pabit]

[corrupted footage] pt 2

…

patrick…how…

…

HOW DARE YOU?!

What? Hey— hey wait, Hab—!

(Habit storms towards Patrick. He is red in the face and furious, but it seems like his eyes are moist. Patrick steps backwards until Habit has him pinned against the wall, hands gripping his arms tightly.)

YOU DARE TO EXPLAIN TO ME MY OWN LIFE? MY PAIN? MY LOSS? YOU DO NOT KNOW ME.

(Patrick is mildly frightened by Habit's sudden change in mood, but remains steadfast in his words.)

Gkhh—shit…! If I have no idea what I am talking about, then why are you so upset?!

(Habit gives Patrick a hard shake.)

YOU FUCKER— HOW COULD YOU KNOW ANY OF THAT. YOU WEREN'T THERE! WAXING POETIC OVER A STRANGER’S MISFORTUNE…IT'S SO INSULTING! YOU HAVEN'T THE RIGHT!

Habit— goddammit, stop it! Fuck, that hurts…!

OH? YOU THINK THIS HURTS? I’LL SHOW YOU WHAT REAL PAIN IS.

(Habit, with one hand pressing on Patrick’s chest to hold him firmly against the wall, reaches around himself and pulls out a knife from a well hidden sheath affixed to the back of his pants.

He draws the blade up to Patrick’s face, letting him take in the sight. Patrick turns as white as a ghost in recognition of the infernal object. As he then lowers it down to his neck, Patrick involuntarily stops breathing for a few moments, fearful of even the slightest touch of its blunt edge.)

HAHAHA! YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS, DONT YA? SINCE YOU SEEM TO KNOW EVERYTHING AND ALL.

(Patrick grimaces.)

Hnn– yeah…I know the godkiller well enough. I do know everything, don’t I? Nice of you to finally notice.

(Patrick pauses a beat. A smirk appears in the corners of his mouth.)

Of course that means I know you won’t use it against me too.

(Habit narrows his eyes.)

TEST YOUR KNOWLEDGE THEN, STARSHINE. ARE YOU SMARTER THAN A FIFTH GRADER? WHAT HAPPENS WHEN A SHARP THING MEETS A FLESHY TARGET?

I have no patience for pussy footing around with your stupid references, Habit. Do it if you’re gonna do it.

(Habit snarls and shoves Patrick hard against the wall with one hand; the cool metal blade of the knife in the other ever so slightly graces the skin of Patrick’s throat.)

…

…

(Habit seems to grow still, trembling microscopically but it’s there all the same, and Patrick grins.)

Hesitating, I see…wouldn’t be the first time you couldn’t kill me, right?

(Habit frowns as he slams his empty palm to the wall next to Patrick’s head and pushes off with something like a frustrated growl. He turns away in a single step.)

FUCK YOU.

…’Fuck you’? Is that all you got? I thought you were better than those words, Habs. You could make ‘em count, but you won’t! Wow…at least Vinny followed through—

SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!

(Habit paces around frantically before stopping and doubling over, gripping at his scalp and growling low to himself instead. Patrick slowly peels himself away from the wall, though only makes one step further before watching Habit with a slight frown.)

I’m sorry Habit…but you need to face the facts:

You loved him.

That's the feeling you’re unable to identify — you’ve never loved anything. Well, besides power. You thought that’s why you kept Vin around, that the one thing you needed from him most was the star…that knife. You could’ve killed whatever stood in your way and climbed to the top of the food chain.

Nothing would’ve been able to stop you…except love did. And you knew one day it’d be Vin you’d have to kill too.

…

>>

[magiclyney]

Immortal characters are most interesting when their characteristics and traits (both positive and negative) intensify the longer they live. Especially when their positive traits eventually evolve into negative traits.

Character is a great fighter? Great! Now they have literally all the time in the world to train and they wouldn’t grow old. Oh- but that arrogance (no matter how little it was when they were mortal) is now amplified, because they are provably better than everyone else. It could also be something much smaller. An immortal character becoming so invested in perfecting something that they become obsessed and centuries pass without their notice. Or vice versa, where they keep procrastinating it for centuries, i mean they do have literally all the time in the world.

Doing this also helps with coming up with the conflict in the story you write for them. Maybe they overcome their obsession, or finally get to that thing they’ve procrastinated for so long, or overcome their arrogance and share their knowledge with others.

You can stop reading now- but if you’d like to hear about how I’m implementing this into my own stories for a more in-depth example, please stay :D

My OC is a huge people pleaser and he always has been. He spent a lot of his time and energy doing everything he could to please the adults around him, and when he gained immortality that didn’t change. He picked up the slack of others at work, he volunteered for the dangerous jobs. Because of this, he was assigned more work. There was no threat of death in his actions. He couldn’t work himself to death and no dangerous foe could kill him, so for the sake and lives of others he does it instead.

This (as stated at the beginning of the post) only intensifies with time.

The people around him grow worried for him. He gets barred from taking on dangerous missions, and every time someone dies on one of those missions he blames himself.

This is obviously not good for his mental health, so it increasingly worsens. The people who aren’t close to him appreciate him for taking on all the difficult and dangerous jobs, but he and all the people he is close to know that he’s about to completely spiral.

Oh- and did I mention that he’s a soldier who has open access to deadly weapons?

See? Someone who’s just an average people pleaser and helps others finish their work on time evolves into a workaholic going down a complete spiral of anxiety and depression.

Trapped between requesting less work and focusing on the work assigned to him. In fear of being seen as useless.

Or

his own crumbling mental state and his relationship with his loved ones.

This was originally posted to Twitter, but I decided to post it here as well to be more articulate because i will never pay for Twitter blue just to have that extra character limit.

Anyway If you liked this post and reached this point in it, please DO NOT go on my page and read my fanfic on Ao3 unless you really want to because I am in the process in rewriting like half of it lol.

Edit: ignore previous paragraph the new and improved version of my Fic is now up on Ao3 :]

[letters-from-dekarios]

midnight tears

summary: stricken with grief, anxiety, and the shadow of his former, prouder, self, gale takes to seeking comfort in the swift end he dreamt up many moons ago. tav finds him before it’s too late.

or: gale considers exploding and tav stops him

word count: 2.1k

tags: PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING: this story contains themes of self-harm/suicide. it is not my intention to trigger or harm anyone who comes across this story, but, rather, to share a side of a fictional character I’ve taken a liking to. please do NOT read if these themes, discussed in a reasonable concept of detail, could potentially harm your mental state.

other tags include; gn!tav, act 1 storyline, major gale angst, im still a part of the mystra hate club

He had it all planned out. Written down. He had a failsafe in case things went wrong. Timed it down to the letter, against all the knowledge he had on the orb within him. If worse came to worst, Gods he hoped it wouldn’t, he knew precisely how he wanted to go.

When he first gathered the understanding of the Netherese orb within him, its desperate need to consume the Weave, he was confused. Which was a rare occurrence for him. He was always so knowledgeable that confusion rarely ever happened. He’d question things and soon find an answer, but with this.. no, this was different.

In his quest to prove his love, he only proved his egotism. Something he had tried to stay away from and here he was, indulging in it. How proud was he that he could be able to love the Goddess and Mother of all magic and still be unhappy? Still try to attain more power, more love? How dare he, a mortal man, try and capture the Weave for himself?

Was it really out of love, or was the idea of power and the concept of Godhood too tempting to be toyed with? How did he get this far? How did he manage to do it in the first place, if not by his handling of the Weave itself? He had all the power he could hold and still wanted more.

He was the epitome of a power-hungry, egotistical, jackass.

He deserved the consequences he now had to suffer. He could blame no one other than himself for Mystra’s decision to make him live with it. She could have, very well, killed him right there. But she, by her merciful graces (or what the larger part of Gale perceived as merciful), allowed him to live. He would sacrifice himself to right the wrongs he had created.

As he lay in his tent, one uneventful night, staring at the stars, he pondered the plan he had in his back pocket. He had it figured out for years now, so it wasn’t a question, but he questioned the actual statistics of it. He pulled out a little vial from his bag and turned it over in his hands, reading the neat handwriting over and over again. Midnight tears. A poison whose consequences would only take effect at midnight exactly. If he consumed it in the early morning, traveled far into the Underdark and waited, he would avoid injuring any innocents in the process.

It was a desirable end to his misery, he concluded. If he woke before Tav and the rest of the group, he could be gone before they arose. He doubted they would notice he was missing.

He knew Tav had accepted him for his faults, his lies, and everything else with him. They had encouraged him to stay traveling with them, but he didn’t feel as though he deserved to.

He wondered what the poison would feel like, how it would taste. The seller who gave it to him was vague on the details, and Gale didn’t know if he preferred that or the horrid truth of receiving every component.

He set the poison to the side and conjured a dagger in his hands. He twisted it between his palms, considering the other option to poison. It wasn’t the preferred way to go, but it was his failsafe in case the poison went bad. All he had to do was plunge the magic knife into his chest, and off he would go.

It wouldn’t be the prettiest, he knew that, but it would be better than nothing. His blood pooling out onto the ground, pained cries filling the air- he’d apologize again and again to Mystra, his goddess, his first love, telling her how sorry he was for the stupid mistakes he’d made.

His mouth would taste like copper, eventually, and by then he’d begin slipping away. His body would go numb, he figured, and then his hands would drop. He would fall onto his back, staring up into the vast sky of Faerún, before everything disappeared.

He had a letter written already for his soul to pass on to Tav and the others. He’d apologize to them, too, for letting them down. For not becoming the man they hoped and wished he was. For everything. There wasn’t enough time in all the realms where he could be forgiven for his mistakes.

The longer he sat there, with his thoughts, the more he twisted the knife between his hands. The more he sunk into himself, the harder he pushed it in his palms.

He didn’t even realize he was bleeding until he felt his hands become oddly slippery. He sat up and looked down, his eyes going wide as he saw the blood trickling down his fingers. His heart began to race, his chest becoming tight. He couldn’t live with himself if he died now and took out all his companions with him. Though, maybe he was just being dramatic.

The knife in his hands disappeared and he looked clearer at the cuts on his hands, cursing himself under his breath. He grabbed a nearby carafe of water and poured it over his hands, hissing in pain while they stung.

“Goddess forgive me..” he sighed under his breath, looking around for some cloth he could use to cover his wounds. Then, during one of their battles, he could play it off as an injury received. Why did he do this?

Why was he like this?

He could never know the answer to those questions. The questions that pulled at his heart and broke down in his mind- they had no real answers, they never were able to be answered to begin with. In all his years living as some high, extraordinary Chosen of Mystra, he never found the courage to become insightful of himself. He never understood why he was never enough, or why he couldn’t do things right. Why did he feel the need to lie to cover his imperfections? Why was he so scared that if he messed up, he would never be exonerated?

Mystra had planted the seed in his head that he was not worthy of forgiveness, that death would be the only thing to balance his scale. It got to him. Terribly so, Gale began to believe that she was right. After all, how could one commit such a sin against a God and not be considered unworthy of their forgiveness? He had tried to usurp her authority, whether for love or pride, and had to deal with her wrath. She had every right to not pardon him. She had every right to make him feel how he did.

Though he was rather calm in these situations, no matter what was happening around him, right now he was panicking. His breath picked up, his chest rising and falling faster by the second. Why couldn’t he find a damn cloth?

“Gale?” Tav’s sweet voice broke him from his thoughts. Was he crying, too? He couldn’t tell anymore. He was a whole mess and a half.

“Tav-“

“What happened?” The way they spoke, so much concern in their voice, he couldn’t help but be ashamed of what he had become. How could he sit here, hurting, and hurt others around him? The look Tav gave him was enough to break a thousand realms over again, and he felt awful for making them deal with him.

“I- I don’t know…” he replied, the panic in his eyes as evident as ever.

Tav disappeared for a moment but quickly returned with more water and some towels. They sat down beside him, sighing softly as they took his hands in their own.

He winced, pulling back for a moment before Tav eased him, gently cleaning the wounds.

“Gale..” they started again, and he looked away, ignoring the wounds on his hands. Gods, he was so stupid.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” he replied, taking a breath as Tav made sure his hands were okay.

“Gale,” they repeated, glancing down suspiciously at the poison beside him.

He looked to his side, sighed, and then opened his mouth to speak. How could he even begin?

“You promised me,” Tav sighed, waving their hands and muttering a small healing spell. Soon enough, the wounds closed, and his hands were clean again.

“I wasn’t going to-“

“Gale-“ they sighed again, running a hand over their face. “Why do you even have it? We discussed this. It won’t come down to that.”

“We don’t know that.”

Tav looked at him with those sad, puppy-dog eyes. Hurt laced their words, how could Gale be so cruel to himself?

“It’s for safety.”

“Safety of who, Gale? What happens if you accidentally drink it instead of a healing potion? What happens if it ends up in your food?” They asked, eyebrows furrowed together.

“I wouldn’t do that-“

“Oh, come on. We’ve all done it. These damn bottles look so alike! I hardly know the difference between a feather fall and an angelic sleep spell, Gale. It could happen to any of us.” Tav replied, their words rather sharp. Gale flinched, looking down at his fully restored hands.

“I cannot live on if I do not have a clear source of escape should things turn the wrong way,” Gale replied, honest-hearted words clashing with the things he was actually thinking. Yes, he felt that way, but did he think that way? Hardly.

Truth be told, Gale was angry with Mystra. At least, a small part of him was. He had done everything to love her, to prove his love, going so far as bestowing this upon himself, and instead of helping, she cast him aside. If she truly loved him as she claimed to, would he even be here? Why had she left him like this- surely death would have been much kinder. This was just plain cruel.

“I don’t want you to think like that, Gale. I want you with me, with our party, for as long as you can be. You’re supposed to stay by our side, not have a plan to leave us,” Tav took his hands in their own again, looking him in the eye. “Please, Gale. I want you to live. I need you to live. Planning your demise does no one any good, especially not yourself.”

“Mystra-“

“Enough about Mystra!” Tav dropped his hands, frustrated now. “We know. I know. Why are you so devoted to her when all she’s done is bring you pain? It makes no sense to me that you would continue to suffer in her name. You need to be free, Gale. Netherese orb or not, and whether you like it or not, you’re in this tadpole journey with us. I don’t give two damns what Mystra thinks or feels. This is about you, not her.”

Those words struck him. Yes, that tiny part of him agreed, Mystra was harsh for leaving him like this. She was rather harsh to toss him aside after doting on him and his abilities for so many years. But the larger part of him outweighed that piece, and he could only help but feel guilty for thinking such things about her.

“But-“

“No buts, Gale. You’re going to stop this stupid ‘I’m going to blow myself up for Mystra’ nonsense. I know it’s a part of who you are, we all have things we have to deal with, but please. For me, for all of us, you can’t go on with this weight on your back.” Tav sighed, taking his face gently in their hands and wiping away his tears.

“I’ll try to do better, I promise,” Gale replied, letting his face rest in their soothing hands. Why did he always hurt those that he loved? He couldn’t answer that. He never could.

“The next time you start contemplating your death, please, Gale, talk to me. Talk to any of us! We all want to be here for you, and I know I would be so incredibly miserable if we lost you,” They looked into his eyes and pulled his head against their own. Their foreheads touched, Gale’s eyes shut, and for a brief moment, he felt at peace. No matter what happened he knew he had friends to rely on. And for that, he was thankful.

Tav made sure he was alright before returning to the campfire to rest. He tucked the poison into the furthest part of his bag, laid himself to rest, and let his mind slip away into the night.

He would keep the poison and the letter handy, just in case, and it would take quite some time for him to be fully able to talk to the others when he was feeling like exploding, but it would happen. Eventually, he would be okay. Eventually, he would find peace.

[layraket]

Day 5 - Sunburn

Character(s): Four and Shadow (LU)

Words: 772

Summary: Shadow tries to stay out in the sunlight, Four told him to not do it

Whump scale: 2 (see the full scale here)

Warnings: Burns, it's not that graphic but just to make sure

-

Traveling with the chain has been a whole adventure, literally.

They were all kind and fun, even the veteran who tried his best to hide that soft spot for the younger ones.

Us included. Maybe you, I’m already old enough. Guys we’re all the same age.

While the three colors discussed the fourth was worrying about their secret friend.

Shadow has been living inside their, well, shadow since Link reemerged, them learning this a year after. It was a little hard at the start, but they figured out a way to communicate with sign.

The demon wasn’t completely trapped, with the shard that Vio grabbed from the broken Dark Mirror he was able to become physical. The problem is, this only worked when the sun wasn’t touching him.

“I don’t think it is a good idea” They had this argument already too many times, and Four didn’t wanted to risk Shadow’s life for an experiment.

Wow, Vio not putting someone at risk for the sake of knowledge? That is really new. Don’t start. You know is true!

‘But what if now I’m able to walk in the light? I could convince the others that I’m not gonna kill them!’ The signs were a little sloppy but at least made sense.

“You only have one small shard of the mirror, even with the whole thing the light harmed you.” Four sighed “I don’t think it is enough.”

Normally talking with Shadow would be only limited to signs, but with the rest of the chain occupied and with the excuse of going for firewood communication was easier.

‘We’ll never know!’ Before Four could say anything a figure in his likeness emerged from his shadow.

There was a beat.

Shadow opened one eye to check, then smiled “See? Now I can help you with the fire–“

The demon started burning, in the literal way. Burns were already covering his body and screams filled with pain came with them.

“WHAT DID I TELL YOU?!” Was the first thing that Four said, letting the firewood aside and already trying to cover the shadow being from the light.

“BURNS BURNS BURNS! LINK IT BURNS SO MUCH!” Smoke came from him and the smell of burnt flesh was strong.

In theory this wasn’t a natural body, his flesh was made with magic. So, it is possible with Dark Magic to create a full working body?

Vio! This is not the right time! He’s gonna turn into ash! Do something! Ugh he made this to himself! Let him burn a little Blue that’s too cruel! It’s not my fault that the idiot decided to become roasted cucco– GUYS.

Right. Shadow was being burned alive.

“Hold on a little!” He tried to cover the demon with his body, to give him an opportunity to go back to his shadow, or at least to protect him from the light.

“M-make it stop!” The damage was already big, the burns being bigger than some seconds before and already covering a big part of his face.

If he didn’t act fast Shadow will die. A third time. He doesn’t want to be responsible for it again.

Four lifted him carefully and ran towards some spot where the shadow was more prominent, maybe like that the sun wouldn’t be able to hurt him more.

There wasn’t a moment where Shadow let go of Four’s tunic, tears coming non-stop from his red eyes and the smell of smoke becoming more and more strong.

Finally, in the safety of a tree’s shadow, the demon was able to start healing himself. The damage was big, almost his whole body was covered with sunburns and it made harder to mitigate the pain.

Four finally with his mind calmer, allowed himself to breathe. “Better?” He kept his voice soft, not wanting to bring again the panic of the shadow being.

“Mmhmm…” He didn’t dare to let go of Four’s tunic, keeping a death grip that made his knuckles turn white.

“Deep breaths, Shady, keep making deep breaths…” Even with a body that was basically made with Dark Magic, it was very warm. Maybe for the sunlight.

After what felt like an hour Shadow was able to go back to Four’s shadow, now safe in his little hiding spot.

They came back to camp, luckily nobody heard Shadow’s screams and noticed how Four twitched with the mention of how long he took.

The lesson of the day? If Vio tells you that it is a stupid idea, maybe listen to him.

That isn’t true. Shut up. 

[theoldoor]

Hello tumblr it is your daily dose of fenrot (fenrir brainrot)

On today’s episode we return with more kakavasha x fenrir / aventurine x eifenhe THIS IS GOING TO BE A LONG ONE PLEASE BEAR WITH ME

Thats it

Thats

Literally what they are

—- Aventurine’s part… this one is rather shallow i need to work on it more

Kakavasha aided Fenrir greatly by accommodating his partial blindness by being his eyes in talia, they were an inseparable duo. The thief and the getaway driver. The distraction and the agent. Etc… Well mostly due to obligation to the other party, but the obligation soon grows to be affection and they were doing it willingly without being asked.

Obligation as in Aventurine needed a guide to live in Talia and Fenrir needed a pair of eyes to navigate through Talia so it was initially just transactional that they helped each other as they both win. You know, a good deal also comes with some other gifts and that was their growing affection for one another. Platonic, family whatever the relationship status is they will still care for each other unconditionally at that point, even if they were enemies.

Aventurine, then was Kakavasha and Eifenhe was Fenrir. They have both left their past behind, recycled what their scars had taught them to knowledge to survive in that deserted plains. I think that’s a beautiful thing to Talia as well. The junkyard of Galaxy where everyone cared for survival, your past wouldn’t matter, as long as you live that’s all that matters. Maybe that’s why Aventurine/Kakavasha thrived there, and so did Fenrir. They could literally just renew themselves, in exchange of dropping their humanity for the sake of survival. But that is a trade which they have no power to decline - Talia gives you no other choice but to survive.

—- but Talia is not total rebirth, it’s recycling

“In your distance, I find my desperation.”

“In your closeness, I find my fear.”

One would still have scars of their past, and that is exactly what Fenrir and Aventurine/Kakavasha had as their obstacle

Fenrir - cares for other to distract himself from caring for himself because he’s to afraid to confront his own issues as he knew it would be a hard thing to accomplish, and he’s scared to open up because what if other will think of him differently? What if they think he’s disgusting?

Aventurine - distance from others so that he wouldnt hurt them by making them care because he believes he’s not worth being cared for. Aventurine wouldn’t open up either for somewhat of the same reason.

Both seeks to be understood but refuse to be weak.

—Put this in a scenario

Be mean or be quiet.

Fenrir, he would want you to be mean. Cruel even, hurt him or kill him. Just don’t stay quiet and let him care.

Aventurine, he would stay quiet. He would let himself rot, to be hurt, to die. Just to free the others from the hassle of dealing with him.

Desperately helping an individual who believes there is no cure is a good trope but i need to figure out how to write it. Or like the Doctor is sick with the same illness trying to treat the patient who believes the cures the doctor is saying is bluff because he has the same illness. Lol.

—- Fenrir’s part —-

No matter how ‘ruined’ and ‘broken’ a temple is, as long as there is faith, there will still be respect and devotion and that is Fenrir and Aventurine.

Fenrir will not stop loving others, he will devote himself to everyone and anyone - as long as they return affection and acknowledgement but not too much. Make sure to run, make sure to keep him on a hook because if you shower him with love, he’ll think it’s fake and run away himself. So Aventurine distancing himself actually works :P

BEAR WITH ME— AVENTURINE AS THE RUINED TEMPLE

Aventurine, when he was with the clan and was full of potential, waging with luck but is now only a shadow of that former self as he is invalidated and traumatized through his past with slavery and now burdened with being in the IPC - his constant smile hides a fractured soul, much like the crumbling walls of a temple that concealed its past glory.

The constant distance he kept from others to protect them from the burden he believe he would put on them would make him seem unreachable. And his first-impressions is like this all out brazen-bravado guy that you admire ties more to the ruined temple as the place was once a place of reverence, maybe people could tour outside, but left in desolation once you look closer due to its unstable structure within.

We all know Aventurine’s past - the stories of bloodshed, etc. Much like the old relics in the ancient temple that held stories of a fallen glory. Many people would see it as “just an empty and dusted relic”, which is what Aventurine would probably see about his past as well, nothing of value. But to historians, the scholars, it is a blessing to find fragments of its story. And also, the avgins being ethnically cleansed… oouuuHHHHHG AAWWDD - Rich of history and honor, yet scarred and hidden from plain sight.

NOW ONTO FENRIR’S PART- FENRIR AS THE FAITH

It’s… literally his character. The devoted. The dog that follows.

Fenrir’s tendency to prioritize others’ needs over his own is a clear example of his unwavering faith and devotion. He will search for the good in things to believe in them, yk’know the stupid dog, even in things that are inherently bad. Much like a believer that see divine in a place of worship, even if their faith is in the wrong place, even if the place is in ruins - his faith in Aventurine’s potential and his commitment to staying regardless as he saw Kakavasha before Aventurine, despite that he’ll be hit with the latter’s distance and fears for his closeness.

Within Avidity (talia clan), Fenrir is established to be a caretaker, mediator and a restorer of sort. His care is a reaction to distract himself from the main issue, himself, but also a sort of hope - to bring back Kakavasha, revitalize that young and hopeful spirit even after he knew how it had grown to Aventurine. A devoted prayer fixing the temple for their faith. He will not keep praying to the broken temple. HE WILL BUILD IT FROM SCRATCH IF HE MUST.

This also carries on to Fenrir’s constant chase for validation. Despite Aventurine’s retreat and the metaphorical crumbling of his defense, Fenrir would always chase to support him. If a devotee’s know that their object of faith is crumbling, they’ll still persist to maintain their belief. Fenrir is devoted to Aventurine, affectionately but borderline religiously… :freaky:

— FOR THE BOTH OF THEM:

The interdependence:

Aventurine and Fenrir depended heavily on one another, whether if they like it or not. It was Talia, the Kingdom of Banditry, the Junkyard of the Galaxy that they live in. The place was cruel and they must rely on one another to live.

Similarly to the temple and the devotee, they cannot exist meaningfully without the other.

Religious trauma (my thoughts are trailing off FFAWWWK)

Aventurine’s religious trauma and Fenrir’s atheism… hehehahauahAAAAAUUUGHH

Fenrir never believed in Aeons, gods or whatnot. Well he knew they existed, but he did not put faith in them as he knew they would do him no good due to his past of trying to rely on them but they all ignored him. However, he betrayed this belief for Aventurine. He believed in Aventurine, devoted in even. (Ok this soudns kinda toxic but BEAR WITH ME ITS NOT ITS AFFECIONTALEY)

But his belief is out of a imaginary salvation or blessing, he believes in Aventurine so deeply is because out of his own personal conviction and trust for the man. He believes in Aventurine because Aventurine heard him while no one else had.

And Fenrir, as mentioned above, he won’t use some divine blessing as protection. He doesn’t believe in that. He will go head in, he will build the temple (aventurine lol) back up, brick by brick bare hands if he must. He is practical, as taught by living in Talia.

Aventurine would of course notice the devotion to him, and obviously gets reminded of his past and the Giathra Triclops… eheheheuh…. But what separates them is that, Fenrir relies on him - not any other force. The place is being restored not through divine intervention, not from others, but through the personal effort of Fenrir.

(Ok fuck im rambling im trailing off now but WE GOT ONE MORE SECTION TO GET THROUGH - THE BROKEN MIRROR X FRAME AND SPEAKER X FLY WILL AND FLAG POLE X WAR TORN FLAG WILL COME TMR!!!)

—- THIS WILL BE A SHORT ONE DEAD LANGUAGE X LINGUIST

Its similar to the ruined temple and the devotee, but this one reflects more onto their post-talia time and more direct considering their post-talia quest is Fenrir and Aventurine shit talking in Avgin sigonian and everyone is trying to figure out what the hell theyre doing because everyone is freaking out as the room theyre trapped in is being infiltrated by a Riddler.

Within Talia, their dependence were a necessity to survival, but now they’re back on their feet theyre justttt chillinggg.g

—-

FUUUCKK OK READ THIS ONE CUZ IM TRAIING OFF, IN CONCLUSION FOR THE DEAD LANGUAGE X LINGUIST

- Literal and direct connection to Avgins and Fenrir’s dedication for linguistics (he wrote a dissertation about the Avgin-Sigonian dialect as a thank you gift to Aventurine)

- Fenrir having a PhD in linguistics and Masters in Archeology -> a literal linguist and historian

- Aventurine being guarded and of a ethnically cleansed race -> a dead language, full of mystery and history

- Fenrir’s patience and persistent efforts to understand Aventurine -> understanding a dead language, reviving lost words and tales from Aventurine

- A dead language is useless to most people. But to linguist they’re a treasure -> Aventurine thinking he dookie but hes literally Fenrir’s everything + Fenrir will love regardless Aventurine for Aventurine, regardless of relationship status and if he could use Aventurine or not

Ok im logging off now brainrot is enough

—— scrapped but i like to include this in for lenght

Its obvious, Aventurine is the dead language, once vibrant and full of meaning but now lost and obscure. Also direct reference to the Avgins being exterminated.

+ His past of being guarded makes him complex and enigmatic, much like an ancient language.

Fenrir, having a literal PhD in Linguistics, its so obvious with this one lol. Now that he doesn’t need to build up Aventurine or anything, he takes his time to still devote to the man by understanding him. He wanted to understand Avgin-Sigonian partially because its his chosen field of interest, but also, he wanted to understand Aventurine. (And the Riddlers are trying to ruin the last bit of Avgin Sigonian, despite being in the same faction, Fenrir does not want them meddling with the few last trace of Avgins cuz… aventurine)

It’s not necessarily reviving Avgin Sigonian, it’s more like Fenrir comprehending the language to make sure, even if there were no more speakers, the language would be written in history in a way. Fenrir trying to understand Aventurine’s structure through the language now that he’s no longer a need, but a want for Aventurine lol so he needs to make sure he’s still relevant to Aventurine in a way. (Ok im trailing off a little too much here.)

[ochrearia]

And What Can We Do?

RAAAAHH I said I was gonna finish this stupid one-shot even if it killed me. Ough man my stomach huts so bad but the grind never stops. OCHRE WRITING A PROMPT WHERE YS ISN'T ACTIVELY INVOLVED IN IT? CRAZY

BFs in this one-shot: cs!BF (Beefer, mine), wyd!BF (Beef, Karl's), sfa!BF (Peacock, Shed's), Candy!BF (Blue, Slushgut's)

“You know, don’t you?”

Honestly, the Dinaurian coming to him to ask such a random question was the last thing Beef was expecting. He hadn’t exactly talked much to Beefer either, only small passing conversations compared to the ones he’d had with YS, Biff, or Bee. Kind of weird to think about, talking to one version of himself more than another. Nothing about this was normal anyway.

“Know… what?” Beef asked back, genuinely confused.

Beef had been more than happy to keep to himself in what had essentially become a big brother waiting room. YS wasn’t home, but that hadn’t stopped any of them from camping out at his place waiting for him to come back. It certainly didn’t stop them now. Peacock, Blue, Beefer, and him. A whole handful of BFs he’d talked to the least, probably.

Beefer pulled a face, his red eyes flicking between Peacock and Blue carefully before deciding to continue. “You know about YS. I keep seeing you stare a little too long at his back when he’s around. The others not here, they wouldn’t think anything of it. But the rest of us know better.”

Beef blanched, looking between the three. Blue and Peacock were looking almost confused back at the Dinaurian. Slightly unnerved curiosity on how he knew what he did.

“Dinaurian instinct, guys.” Beefer sighed. “The species I am now. From my world they have gone generations now disguising themselves as humans when they aren’t. Using technology to fool the eyes. I guess something about that made it into my DNA, making it so I can tell between humans and fake humans. I know the only human in this room is Beef.”

Well, that sure was a revelation. Beef hadn’t known there was more really outside of Beefer and YS. It was literally impossible to miss with the Dinaurian, and finding out YS was an angel was sheer luck of time and place. Well, Biff had been there too, but it seemed like he was way better at hiding his knowledge.

“Could’ve given a warning before outing us like that man.” Peacock complained with a raised eyebrow.

“We’re all friends here, are we not?” Beefer replied with a shrug. “I need to keep tabs on who knows and who doesn’t. It matters to me that we avoid comments about his lost wings, even by accident.”

“Beef is the only human in this room?” Blue spoke up, confused. “Wait… hold on, ignoring that for a minute, lost wings? He had wings and now he doesn’t?”

“I didn’t know that.” Peacock frowned. “I could tell he was an angel, angels can sense other angels. I had no idea he was Fallen.”

Beefer dragged his hands along his face in exasperation. “Well fuck. Okay. Guess you know now. It was a talking point when I came to him having an episode of body dysphoria. I think that’s what it’s called anyway. Beef, you had to have known that though right? I didn’t just run my stupid mouth?”

“No, I knew. But I didn’t want to say anything, the way I found out wasn’t really good.” Beef confirmed with a grimace. That day had been so stressful, from one breakdown to the next. “I don’t know if I should say my thoughts though. I have a really bad theory.”

“Dude you can’t headcanon real people.”

“That’s- Why is that what you thought I was doing?” Beef huffed. “See you knew he lost his wings. You clearly don’t know the manner of how he lost them.”

“What, and you do?” Beefer countered.

“If he’s Fallen, then it’s a pretty simple conclusion.” Shrugged Peacock. “The wings rot away, harmlessly. Physically harmlessly anyway. The angel has to deal with the loss for the rest of their life. I just don’t understand what the big guy did to get there.”

“Well…” Beef hesitated. Was this his place to talk about? It was only a theory, he wasn’t even sure if he was right. But the way those bumps felt, those were scars of a way more violent injury than just ‘rotting’. “I don’t think his wings rotted. I don’t think he did anything to get there.”

“How could someone as kind as YS end up Falling?” Blue wondered aloud. “Beef is probably right, he didn’t do anything. Everyone keeps talking about the things he’s done to help. He introduced me to all you guys! I don’t think there’s even a little bit of evil in his body.”

“Then how did he lose his wings then?” Peacock challenged. “And how are you so sure he didn’t Fall?”

“You’ve all gotten at least one hug from YS by now right? Have any of you actually thought to put your hands on his upper back? Well, don’t, he hates that and that’s how I found out. But like, before this conversation did any of you do that?” Beef asked.

The three shook their heads, wondering where he was going with this.

“He has bumps on his back.” Beef continued. “Scars of where his wings used to be. His over shirt is loose and wouldn’t highlight them but I felt them. Even for a moment I could tell those weren’t gentle scars. I guess I don’t know what kind of calling card would be left over after an angel’s wings rot but those bumps are violent. That was a traumatic injury. Not something painless, by how he reacted when I asked. I think… I think something ripped his wings off.”

Silence swept the room.

“...No.” Peacock decided almost desperately. “No, no that can’t be right. Angel wings are too strong for just anything to rip them out. That’s something I was told in my own world. That should be a universal thing, very few things are powerful enough to even do that.”

“Well… that’s still a chance.” Beef mumbled.

“There’s always going to be a stronger thing out there even if you think you’re at the top of the food chain.” Beefer hissed sourly. “Humans in my world, thinking they were top shit because they found a way to revive dinosaurs and make them their friends. Then the Dinaurians showed up. And then the Dinaurians were revealed to be fleeing an even bigger threat, a whole planet eater. Turned out that planet eater could be, and was, killed by a human. There’s always something, a way to defeat the ‘invulnerable’.”

“Why would anyone want to do that to him though?” Bue seemed visibly upset by this revelation. “Didn’t he already go through enough? He still hasn’t told any of us how his version of GF died, I’m guessing? Wouldn’t that have been traumatic enough? Why would someone make it exponentially worse?”

“That’s what I want to know.” Beef growled, feeling his anger flare. YS would tell him it wasn’t worth it, but he wasn’t here, and he was going to feel angry. “You didn’t see it. How badly he reacted when I asked one question. I asked what happened to him and it was like the world was fucking ending.”

“Fuck, how much has he gone through?” A loaded question, but now even Peacock was getting a bit miffed. He didn’t care about a lot, but the things he did care about he was fierce to protect. “Losing his girlfriend, not having a Pico, and now this? It’s a miracle he’s even still alive.”

Yeah, yeah it sure is. Beef thought bitterly. Too much had been accidentally revealed in the aftermath of him prodding about YS’s wing scars. Him deliriously breaking down even further to the point he’d called Biff over as backup. They’d cheered him up the best they could, all things considered. And then when he’d calmed down enough, the pure exhaustion made him blurt things neither should have heard him say. Talking about how angels were always cold when Beef had asked why he liked being warm so much.

Talking about I wanted to join her when Biff asked the last time he’d properly slept. I had a plan. Connect all these mes and then I’d be… I can’t now.

Maybe that wasn’t his story to tell. Beef had seen how devastated Biff had gotten hearing about him having a plan, never in his life had he seen the smaller one get so crushed and upset. If that had been his reaction, and how these guys were already acting with these theories… yeah, he couldn’t tell them.

“So then now what?” Blue asked, snapping Beef out of his thoughts. “He never talked about any of this. I don’t think he’d be happy about any of us knowing, but I don’t want to just pretend I’m clueless. Isn’t there something we can do to show support?”

“It sounds like the only time he actually admitted to anything was with me.” Beefer recounted. “Though even then it was indirect. He only actually said he’d lost his wings after I said it first as a theory. And I could tell it made him uncomfortable. That’s why I think making sure attention to it is avoided is probably the best bet.”

“So we’re not gonna tell him we know more than he thinks?” Peacock asked. “That seems really dishonest. If we tell him we can offer support better.”

“He doesn’t want any of us knowing to begin with!” Beef argued. “Only reason any of us know is because apparently this room is full of non-humans and I just happened to open my big fat mouth!”

“I’m still confused about the room full of non-humans thing…” Blue sheepishly said.

“How are you-? You know what, nevermind, that’s not urgent.” Beefer sighed, tail lashing. “Please, by all means tell him you know, I’m sure the distress of that conversation will be worth it. ‘Hey, you’ve been nothing but kind and caring and you do your absolute best to never hurt us, let me just hurt you real quick by telling you I know what you are and let you sit with that discomfort’.”

“Cheap shot.” Peacock countered.

“The options are pain and pain. Just pick one.” Beef grumbled with folded arms. “Either we tell him and he gets upset with us, or we don’t tell him and let him continue to deal with it alone with no direct support network.”

“Well that’s not true.” Blue insisted. “It’s not true! He has a support network, it’s us. We’re still going to be his support network even if we don’t know everything about him. He doesn’t know everything about us and still does loads to help. We can do that too!”

Blue had a point. YS wasn’t all-knowing, he’d said that several times at this point. He knows as much as he can observe, and by how much they all decided to tell him. He’s just another one of them, nothing completely different and overly special and that was okay. YS still managed to be a pillar of comfort and safety for all of them in different ways, why did they think that they couldn’t do the same? He was always so closely guarded of his problems but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be there for him.

“...Okay.” Beefer breathed finally. “Can we all agree on that at least? Just be there for him if anything happens, but we agree not to mention what we know if it’s clear that saying something would make it worse?”

“Fine.” Peacock conceded. “I don’t like the idea of hurting him by accident but I know lying can also cause that. I guess it’s just a lose-lose situation.”

“He’s obviously not ready to talk about what happened to him. We can’t force that, but we can be there for him. If anything else happens…” Beef was trying. He was always so worked up over being soft or vulnerable but YS had been slowly helping him change that. Hell, he was completely open and willing to be those things if the tall one needed it and that had been proven behind closed doors. It was still nagging at the back of his head that he was being embarrassingly protective of him around the others.

“Glad we agree then. That’s what I was aiming for by bringing this up.” Beefer admitted. “Constantly worried about him to be honest. As if I needed more things to worry about considering what the hell’s going on with me, but it’s impossible not to care about the guy.”

At least they could all agree to that statement too.