#bloodshot awakening

[geekcavepodcast]

Valiant Entertainment and Blackstone Publishing Partner on Valiant Novels

Valiant Entertainment’s cast of comic book characters are getting to feature in prose novels from Valiant and Blackstone Publishing. The first titles in the Valiant imprint are Bloodshot: Awakening, Shadowman: The Abyss Stares Back, Livewire: Circuit Breaker, and The Eternal Warrior: Servants of the Dead.

Bloodshot: Awakening hails from Fred Van Lente. The young adult novel depicts Bloodshot as an 18-year-old who awakens in a lab with no memory of who he is or why he has powers. “Breaking out of his imprisonment with nanite-powered blood, Angelo finds himself on the run, trying to piece together his memories and fight back against the sinister forces chasing him.” (Valiant Entertainment)

Shadowman: The Abyss Stares Back hails from Shola Adedeji. Upon the death of his father, Jack Boniface returns to New Orleans after years of being away. “Jack tries to reacclimate himself to his hometown, but things have changed so much. There seem to be dark forces at work. And then Jack finds out that his father was The Shadowman, a supernatural warrior. Jack now finds himself pulled into a much larger, terrifying world, and must assume his father’s mantle.” (Valiant Entertainment)

Livewire: Circuit Breaker hails from Sarah Raughley. The young adult novel follows a teen who has been in foster care for most of her life. “She becomes the ward of the incredibly wealthy Toyo Harada, only to discover that he has nefarious plans for her technopathic powers (and the world).” (Valiant Entertainment)

The Eternal Warrior: Servants of the Dead hails from Ari Marmell. The novel will span “hundreds of years, culminating with a battle in the streets of modern-day New York City, Gilad Anni-Padda finds that the mistakes made generations earlier continue to haunt him, and must battle to save his soul and the entire world itself." (Valiant Entertainment)

(Images via Valiant Entertainment - Covers of  Bloodshot: Awakening, Shadowman: The Abyss Stares Back, Livewire: Circuit Breaker, and The Eternal Warrior: Servants of the Dead)

[doggogills]

jay ferin girl kisser

[graphicpolicy]

Valiant and Blackstone Publishing announce their inaugural titles

Valiant and Blackstone Publishing announce their inaugural titles #comics #books #prose #valiant

Valiant Entertainment and Blackstone Publishing are proud to announce the inaugural titles in their trade publishing program. The newly created Valiant imprint will feature all new stories with some of Valiant’s most popular and beloved characters. BLOODSHOT: AWAKENING Fred Van Lente, an award-winning New York Times-bestseller who has previously worked on Valiant’s Archer & Armstrong, will be…

[willowser]

"i ain't takin' a fuckin' bath."

katsuki's half-undressed, standing in the kitchen with the fridge doors wide open; shirtless, shoulders broad and muscles round and taut, cool air raising goosebumps across his exposed skin. his un-buttoned tac pants are dangerously low on his hips, so low that you wonder—while staring at the dimples of his back—if he's doing it on purpose.

the dewy sheen of sweat he'd come home with has gone matte, leaving him in a thin, sticky, grimy layer that is grimace-inducing to feel. like most nights, dirt and soot and even blood—grown dark and less worrisome with time—color him haphazardly, strewn across his body; a mosaic of dynamight, made by his own hands.

"but you stink," you fail to suppress a smile when he snaps his head around, to fix you with an ugly look that you return. he manages to hide his own amusement in the bulge of his bicep. "i'm serious! a bath will help you relax!"

turning back to the open fridge, he grumbles, "i am relaxed," in a tone that doesn't sound relaxed. at all.

"come on," you urge, shuffling up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist despite all his dried grease and muck. "you go first and i'll be there in a minute."

that catches his attention enough that he finally closes the doors, facing you as he runs a lazy hand over his stomach. to his credit, he does look a bit more relaxed than he had when he'd come through the door—but the set of his jaw is still too stern, brow only ever furrowed, a little more argumentative than usual, even if it's harmless.

katsuki seems to consider your unspoken proposition, before finally surrendering with a roll of his eyes. "fine, but i'm takin' a shower like a grown ass man."

"no!" you groan, latching onto his arm when he moves to step around you. you try to dig your heels into the ground, but you're in the kitchen in socks, and katsuki only yanks you after him with a wicked grin. "bath! a bath will help you relax, i mean it! i've got lavender oils!"

"i ain't using' your frilly shit!"

he finally slips from you when you sputter out a laugh, tugging free from your grip before throwing you a look that is hot in more ways than one. innocent as you aimed to be, something tightens in your stomach; awakened at the sight of him.

you warn, "i'm only coming if you're in the bath!" and his loud, exaggerated groan echoes nearly throughout your entire house, swallowing up your chirpy laugh.

—but, much to your surprise, he listens.

you let him soak for a good five minutes before following after, and when you find him, he's got his head leaned back over the edge, elbows resting on either side of the tub, legs bent and knees sticking up out of the water. handsome as ever, you think, a little dreamy, before the marble of him shifts at your arrival.

he only opens one eye, and you can see already the tension has drained from his face; half-asleep, a little bloodshot and breathing too even to convince you otherwise.

"well, well, well," you murmur, lowering to the floor on your knees after his eye slips shut again. "look at you, princess."

katsuki makes a haughty noise of irritation, but doesn't bite back: a dead giveaway of his exhaustion. instead his hand finds the material of your shirt, tugging on it lightly before he slurs out, "get y'r ass in the tub."

you'd bite his fingers if they weren't still disgusting, but you place a teeny kiss on the cleanest spot you can see on his wrist. "i don't need a bath, but thanks."

"hah?" he grunts, eye shooting open again as he frowns at you. when you only smile coyly at him, he raises his head and glares at you properly. "y'dirty liar, you said—"

"i said i'd be right behind you," you grin. "not that i'd be getting in."

the water sloshes up against the sides as he straightens his posture, baring his teeth at you as he prepares, you think, to lunge out and haul you in with him despite a screaming protest—but you reach forward just before he can, dipping a hand down into the warmth right between his thighs.

katsuki jumps, seriously, leg kicking out so hard that his heel slams into the edge of the tub, when you gently hold him where he's soft. "jesus!" he all but yelps, eyes going a little wide as he realizes what you've done. what you've made of him.

he's still—marble-still—air sucking in sharply between his parted, frozen lips as you touch him, and heat pools so obviously, so suddenly, in his cheeks, sweet enough that you want to bite into the apples of them. in your hand he swells thick, quickly, a little slippery from the soap he's already added to the water.

all his tension returns, as a different strain; katsuki swallows, hard, as his eyes dart back and forth between your own and where your hand disappears into the water; when you gently rub your thumb back and forth across the tip of him, his back straightens, even moreso, and, you don't think he knows it, but his legs part even further.

an invitation if you'd ever seen one.

he finally comes back to life when you lean in close enough to nudge your nose to his, just to see him blink.

he's so cute, you want to eat him alive.

"the f-fuck are y'doin'?" he whispers, eyes dropping back down as you stroke him lightly, just enough to coil him tighter. at the end of the tub, water sloshes quietly from the movement, and katsuki's ears burn.

you've caught him entirely off guard, and if it wasn't clear before, it becomes crystalline when you kiss him, deeply. he's lazy to reciprocate, breathing softly, open-mouthed, as you press a soft kiss to his top lip and then to his bottom, whispering his name back to him just to hear his sharp inhale.

you time a clever stroke of your wrist with the firm press of your mouth to his, insistent and fast, urging the wildness of him to catch up, to come out. it hits him all at once—your desire, his own, the heat of it all—and his hand shoots out of the water to grip the back of your neck, a deep groan slipping from his chest as his cock kicks in your hand.

you try more than once to pull back from him with a sneaky little laugh, but his fingers tangle in your hair and he kisses your teeth and you think, maybe, you're not teasing him enough. his knees knock lightly against the ceramic as he tries to spread them, even further, and his hips shift up with every slick pump of your fist, urgent and eager.

he speaks, furiously, against your lips, when you snatch your hand away, instead teasing your fingers along the inside of his thigh. "get—in th'fuckin' tub." his shoulders tremble, ever so slightly. "i ain't askin' again."

you laugh against him and his nostrils flare. "you didn't ask at all!"

"so quit your bullshit already."

you lick his bottom lip, nipping at the fat of it gently before weaving your own hand into his damp hair. "no," you tease, like a brat, but when you tug enough at the strands, he gets the hint and allows you to pull away. "i'm trying to help you relax, you know?"

katsuki doesn't respond at first, only huffing out a frustrated sound when you wrap your hand around his length again. his face is steaming, despite how firm he's trying to be; your own desire strikes hot when his head tips back just slightly, jaw straining as he grits his teeth.

"no," he finally grunts, eyes dark and pinned to you. "'s'the last thing i feel, is-is relaxed."

"hmm," you make a point to frown and look away, like you're thinking, but katsuki's impatience wins out and he drags you back in for a shuddering kiss. he's fervent, now, nipping at your lip and brushing his tongue against your own eagerly, trying to muffle a painful sound against your cheek. "that's too bad," you tell him—but you don't think he hears you, really, over his low curse and the returning slosh of water against the tub.

but when you ask him again, only a handful of minutes later—his boneless answer is precisely what you were looking for.

[rockatanskette]

So, I've written before about how our relationship with predators would probably intimidate aliens, but I just pictured another way we interact with predators that is honestly just as scary from an outside perspective: we pretend to be predators and even make up new ones, all just for fun.

Now, we also adopt predator patterns for utility: wearing striped makeup for camouflage, imitating roars and bird calls, etc. But I'm specifically talking about the video I just saw from Creature Bionics of creature rigs designed for a human actor to better do motion capture. I'm talking about voice actors and sound designers creating new and terrifying clicks and roars and growls because lions' roars just aren't scary enough. I'm talking about adults dressing up as plush monstrosities to entertain sports fans and children. Gritty is terrifying, objectively.

One day at an early meal, human Janet seems confused when her alien crewmates start asking about a shape-shifting monster that they keep seeing in human culture. They ask her what it's like to live on a world with "dogjons;" animals that can shift from a fan-headed creature with eye-covered wings to an amphibious eel-like figure, humanoid but not human, to a death-pale monstrosity that chases anyone who dares get near its food. Human Janet is confused until they say that the pale figure has eyes in its hands; bloodshot, and glassy.

"Oh, Doug Jones! No, he's not a monster, he's just a really good actor. Too good—the Shape of Water awakened something in me, specifically."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let's just say the lady 'mating' with him isn't a horror story, it's a fantasy." Human Janet says, like it's nothing. Then something seems to occur to her, and her eyes brighten with what the aliens are quickly learning is mischief. "Oh my god. Am I the one who gets to explain monster fucking?"

Elsewhere, an alien accompanies xis human friend on a day out with their young. There's some kind of show being put on for human youth and Xlibthar is excited for this insight into how humans get Like That. Imagine xis surprise when the lights go up on the entertainment platform and a horde of creatures rushes up. They are large and bright yellow, with big black eyes as dark as singularities, with bright red spots on their heads that clearly indicate venom. Xlibthar shrieks and shields xisself behind Akio and Hinata, sure that something has gone terribly wrong.

"What are those?!" Xlibthar demands, quaking in xis shoes.

"Those? Oh, they're just Pikachus." Akio does not seem even the slightest bit distressed, and five-year-old Hinata is absolutely losing her mind with excitement at the sight of these garish monstrosities.

"What. On Earth." Because this could only happen on Earth. "Is a Pikachu?"

"It's a Pocket Monster. It's a series about monsters that battle with each-other. Pikachu is a mouse that can shoot electricity out of its body."

Xlibthar stares at Akio, wondering if this is an example of what humans call "gaslighting," because keeping monsters in your pockets sounds too insane even for humans. And, "you bring these things around your CHILDREN??"

"I mean, they're not real." Akio puts his hands over Hinata's ears. "They're just people in costumes. Though Nintendo would never let you see one with its head off."

Xlibthar has many questions: why? What? How? What? But one question has been answered: if this is what entertains human youth, it is exactly why Humans are Like That.

[astars-things]

"you can sleep, i'll still be here." With Lando? Maybe y/n was up stressing about all of the stuff that she needs to get done but she's also trying to spend time with lando before he has to leave again. He convinces her to rest for a little bit and notices how visibly tired she is.

pairing Lando Norris x reader

The soft glow of the lamp on my bedside table cast a warm hue across the room, its gentle light illuminating the scattered papers and open laptop on my desk.

"Y/N," Lando spoke gently, his voice cutting through the silence of the room. "You've been at this for hours. You need to take a break."

I sighed, rubbing my temples in a futile attempt to ease the tension building up. "I can't, Lando. There's just too much to do. Deadlines are closing in, and I can't afford to fall behind."

He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "You can't keep pushing yourself like this. You're exhausted, and it's affecting you."

I glanced at him, my eyes tired and bloodshot. "I know, but I can't stop now. There's so much riding on this, and I can't afford to mess it up."

Lando crossed the room and gently took my hands in his. "Y/N, you need to take care of yourself too. What good is all this hard work if it leaves you worn out and miserable? Come on, just take a break. I'll be here with you."

I nodded reluctantly, allowing him to lead me away from the desk and towards the bed. I sank onto the soft mattress, the exhaustion hitting me all at once. Lando sat beside me, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of chaos.

"Close your eyes," he murmured, his fingers gently brushing strands of hair away from my face. "You can sleep I'll still be here."

When I woke, the room was bathed in the soft light of dawn, the remnants of my anxiety-fueled work session a distant memory. Lando sat beside me with his laptop doing the last of the f1 things he needed to get done

"You needed that," he said, a smile playing on his lips as he noticed my awakening. "Feeling any better?"

I nodded, a sense of gratitude washing over me. "Thank you, Lando. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He leaned over and kissed my forehead. "You don't have to do it all alone, Y/N. I'm here for you. And no matter how busy life gets, I'll always be here."

[kkongdakz]

“ DRUNK OF YOU. ” ft. zhang hao

summary : you don't know how or when this rivalry between you and hao developed, but you knew you'd never lose against him. even when it came to drinking more alcohol than the boy.

hao x gn!reader, genre : rivals to somewhat lovers, warnings : angst if you squint, partying, alcohol consumption, drunk y/n and hao, kissing, maybe a little suggestive, wc : 2,3k>

never in your life had you liked going out too much, especially at some random student parties where the watchword was to end up completely drunk. shuffling your feet as you entered the house, where the smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes tingled your nostrils, the loud music quickly assaulted your ears. squinting and sighing, ready to turn back and run to your house, a hand suddenly and firmly grasped your wrist — pivoting on yourself, ready to strike violently the person who had dared to touch you, your gaze fell on your best friend's face, her eyes bloodshot and a silly grin hanging on her face.

« y/n, you're here ! » she shouted over the music, her voice destabilized by the alcohol she'd been drinking since she'd arrived. a worried look appeared on your face : who could have let her drink so much and not look after her in your absence? her boyfriend was definitely really a good-for-nothing. rolling your eyes as you hooked your arm around her waist, despite your selfish self wanting to leave her here and go home, you follow her into the madding crowd. « i'm so happy, we can have fun together ! follow me ! » she shouted again, jumping up and down as she spilled half her drink on the floor. you loved her very much, but you hated it when she got into a state like that. but you didn't even have time to say anything to her, she was already pulling you into another room without asking your opinion.

letting your eyes wander here and there, taking care not to step on anyone, your pupils came into contact with a face that was all too familiar for your liking. in one of the corner of the living room, a glass in his hand and a smirk that made you want to unscrew his head, the one who could best be described as your rival, stood in the violet-blue light of the room. zhang hao seemed to be enjoying the party, but he didn't seem drunk at all — maybe he hadn't been drinking, just like you. not like you're interested anyway. but the boy with freshly red-dyed hair must have felt a lingering gaze on his silhouette, as he caught a glimpse of your face before you disappeared from his field of vision. finally something interesting, he thought, pulling his best friend's arm to try and catch you in your tracks.

arriving in the second room, your best friend handed you a glass of alcohol she'd just served, before pointing to the ping pong table in the middle of the room. « i want to play beer pong with you, » she explained, giving you the sweetest eyes in the world as you were already shaking your head negatively, « please y/n, please ! pleaseeeee ! »

« i'll play against you. » a voice behind you made you sigh quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose, knowing full well who had just spoken. leaning forward slightly while you turned your head to face the boy, a shocked expression painted your best friend's face, « oh hey hao ! are you here to play too? » — the boy's eyes never left yours, even though you weren't the one who asked the question. instead, he simply crossed his arms over his chest, nodding positively before approaching the table when the previous game had just finished. « i'm sure hao can drink more than y/n anyway. » you heard to your right, which made your blood boil and awakened your competitive spirit. you'd chosen to remain reasonable, but the urge to wipe that damned smirk off his damn lips was stronger than you. so, more determined than ever, you swallowed the content of your red cup in one gulp before settling down on the other side of the ping pong table, your determined gaze sending a chill down some people's spines.

« alright, moron, i hope you're ready to take the shame of your life, because i don't intend to stop drinking before you do. » you declared, warming the ping-pong balls between your fingers and not taking your eyes off your opponent. hao let a mocking laugh leave his lips, his gaze even darker and more defiant than before, with his index finger pointing at you, « you're going to go home begging me to forget about this night, y/n. i guarantee it. »

and that was the start of a long, long night of competition, with beer pong and line-shots, each more treacherous than the last. at first, everything went well, as you expected, you won. a first play, a second, then a third... but by the fourth, your hand no longer seemed to want to aim the cups correctly, while a group of attentive spectators formed around you. hao seemed jubilant to see you lose so easily, despite the rosy color that had settled on his cheekbones after a few drinks in one go — but you weren't about to let him get you down, and decided to change places so you could swallow shots of vodka against him.

« are you sure you don't want to give up? » he whispered in your ear, his hand clasped around your waist as you filled the glasses with vodka under the applause of the other almost-too-drunk students. turning your gaze towards him, your eyes plunging into his, you offered him a smile as false and provocative as possible, before handing him one of the twenty-four shots you had just served. « good luck hao, you know that vodka is my specialty, right? » — the innocent tone you used caused the boy to press his tongue against his cheek, his eyes riveted to the glass he grabbed without waiting, making the liquid run down his throat for the next second. and without waiting, you imitated his movements, swallowing your twelve shots of vodka in quick succession. and again. and again. and again.

then suddenly, the world began to spin around you, and you felt the sudden need to isolate yourself and drink a large glass of water. the people around you had dissipated — finally, you thought, and before you could muster all the strength you had left to walk upstairs to reach the bathroom, the only sight that interested you was a certain red-haired boy, face asleep against the bar.

caught up in an uncontrollable fit of giggles, feeling the walls under your palm to stay on your feet, you finally reached the room you were interested in. raising your arms to the sky and hopping slightly after opening the door, you watched your reflection in the mirror, a big, victorious smile occupying your whole face. « i win ! i win ! i win ! » you shouted to yourself, laughing even harder. obviously completely drunk, you did a little victory dance, congratulating yourself on your exploits — even if the reward was a terrible headache the next morning.

approaching the sink to keep yourself upright, you turned on the tap to splash some water on your face, praying that you'll be able to sleep it off quickly and be home in an hour. a long sigh left your lips, and you straightened up before hearing a heavy crash against the door, forcing you to turn around to see where the noise was coming from. putting your hand against your mouth to prevent yourself from bursting out laughing, your gaze fell on hao's silhouette, who had just smashed his face on the floor trying to get into the bathroom.

you didn't even try to pick him up — the boy was already on his feet before you even had time to pull out your phone to take a picture of him. « are you laughing at me? » he asked, between a hiccup and a falsely annoyed tone, which made him much less credible. laughing as you crossed your arms against your chest and leaned back against the sink, you grinned as you watched him clear away the dirt on his clothes from his fall, « yeah, i am. what are you going to do about it? »

gently raising his gaze towards you, you noted the sudden change of atmosphere in the room. the air was warmer, tenser — and it wasn't because there was no air-conditioning in the room. why does hao seem so much more attractive to you now? you've always found him handsome, there's no point in lying : he has irresistible charm, pretty brown eyes and a mouth that's perfect for kissing. but you'll never admit such a thing out loud — you'd rather die.

« i'll come over there and make you shut up then. » he finally declared, putting his shirt back on in a nonchalant way that still let you catch a glimpse of the well-defined line of his abs. he definitely knew what he was doing when he did it, there was no way he couldn't feel the tension in the air under the subdued bathroom light. especially when a wry smile suddenly appeared on your pretty lips, the same smile that haunted his thoughts day and night. « you can always try. » you finally answer, running your hand through your hair without ever taking your eyes off him. and that's all it took for hao to put his words into action, hurrying his heavy steps towards you before grasping your lips with his.

your eyes opened wide, your hands fumbled in the air without knowing how to react : was he really kissing you to stop you talking? it was rough, a bit too rushed, but warm, so warm. after long seconds of hesitation, your eyelids closed to let you enjoy the madness of the moment — kissing the person you so despised was definitely not on the list of things to do at this party. but under your drunken mind, under the subdued light and the mad desire of your heart, your body began to act on its own : your hands slipping around his waist, until your cold fingers brushed his skin, his ribs shivering at your touch. hao hurriedly ran his hands over your cheeks, your skin burning under his fingers from the alcohol, manipulating your face to tilt it to the side and kiss you harder, with more brutality, sliding his tongue against yours in a moment of inattention on your part.

but despite everything that was happening inside you, the feelings and sensations racing through your body, which seemed to be losing all its equilibrium, and the desire to continue as everything seemed so good to you — something definitely seemed out of your control. how could you have ended up in such a situation? breathless, hao pulled away from your mouth for a few seconds, his breath crashing against your lips, just to easily lift your thighs and sit you on the edge of the sink. « was that supposed to happen? » you sighed breathlessly, your chest rising and falling at an abnormal speed, your breathing jerky, « that felt like a crime against humanity. »

a chuckle left hao's bruised lips, your lipstick now smeared on them. you must have looked like two beautiful messes by now. even though your head was screaming at you that this wasn't a good thing, your hands clutched at his top, the fabric crumpled under your fingers. « oh yea? » he whispered, brushing your lips with his, falsely nibbling the lower part without ever kissing you again, even if you were dying to feel him against you again. « hao.. » you say almost pleadingly, your fingers pressing desperately on the small of his back to hold his body against you, and you swore you saw a wry smile take possession of his mouth before he lost himself against your lips a second time.

your stomach was strangely warm, your muscles numb and your heart racing, as if you'd just run around the soccer pitch five times. you could blame it all on the alcohol, like the side effects of all the vodka currently coursing through your veins, but the truth was that no one but hao was responsible for all those sensations. « this is so wrong.. » you murmured, against his swollen lips, even though you were pushing them away to feel them as close to yours as possible.

« if so, then stop me, darling, » he replied, pulling his lips away to place a wet kiss against your neck, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your thigh, « you tempt me, y/n, » he continued, in a more suave tone that made you lose all your composure, with light, barely audible sighs escaping from the back of your throat, « ..and you drive me insane. »

under normal circumstances, you'd be more than surprised to hear such words coming from the mouth of the one and only zhang hao, the one that made your college years so much more stressful than they needed to be. but you'd be lying if you didn't dare admit to him that your heart was constantly racing because of him. from the start, even if his favourite pastime was to drive you completely mad, hao had always been able to make something resonate in you, in a way that no one had ever done before. it was very cliché to say that your rival was making you fall into a spiral of love that you should never have touched in the first place, but the truth was there, and against all odds, it was mutual. even though it was probably the alcohol that had helped him admit it to you.

« fuck it. » you suddenly let go, your hands leaving his shirt to grip his cheeks with determination. deflecting his face from your neck, you crushed your lips against his, with much more desire than you would have liked. and you felt him smile against your lips, his hands moving gently up to grip your hips and encircle your waist firmly. he was right after all, you were probably going to beg him to forget about this night when you've come back to your senses and are no longer under his charms because of the alcohol you've swallowed.

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[starshipsofstarlord]

lap girl (4)

summary. daryl is in mourning for his brother merle, overcome with grief and guilt. all he needs is to lay on his girls lap and receive her affection

warnings. extreme angst, graphic mentions of character death, crying, some fluff, blood

divider credits. @cafekitsune

All he needed was his home, the comfort of y/n’s lap. He stalked through the empty courtyard in the dead of sunset, tired and bearing an ache that was embedded across the side of his torso towards the safety of his home. Merle was dead, and he couldn’t save him.

The image of his brother’s blood resonated in a repeated flash behind his eyes, as well as the flesh that had tangled itself in his tough and walker teeth. He had turned into a flesh eating parasite, devouring any bodies that were remaining in the war zone that now represented a graveyard of sorts alongside the other mobile corpses.

Daryl’s face remained tight from the tears that had continuously dripped from the faucet of his eyes, his agony from the entire experience still mutilating his mind. His hands were stained red, so utterly crimson that he felt sick, nauseated from the act that he had to commit in order to survive. He had killed him, not only for his own life, but to prevent his memory of his elder brother from being tainted with the poison of death that seeped agonisingly through his corpse.

It was an ending that he had never wished for anybody that he cared for, and Merle had the likeliness to be an ass most days, but that hadn’t stopped Daryl from seeing him as the only one in his bloodline that he gave a shit about. To his pitiful luck, the entrance of the cell block was hauntingly empty, aside from the sleep filled breaths that echoed through the large space, and he felt guilty enough already, more so considering that he could awaken his girl from her state of rest.

The mattress wasn’t the comfiest, it was to be expected since it was setup to be the bed for a felon, but he slipped through the walkway after the stairs, tousling his growing locks in critical agitation, as he was pierced metaphorically over and over again with the same blade that had erased any trace of his brother from existence.

“Daryl..?” Her voice was soft and as smooth as the finest silk, causing a lulling of tenseness to roll off his shoulders; his walls were crumbling, and he didn’t mind as he felt he needed to extinguish his emotions in the ritual that his father forbade. His tears had only made his father hit him more, until he was a breathing carcass of numbness. But with her, his girl, she would never bring judgement upon him for being berated with human emotion.

“I’m back.” Daryl responded indifferently, struck blankly with the fact that he would never see his brother again. He’d attempted to scrub his hands clean with the water bottle y/n kept by the hovering silver sink, but it didn’t wash away the shocking brutality that had succumbed him. Merle could never return from becoming a walker and having multiple stab wounds in his brain, and Daryl wouldn’t return from the terror either. It would remain with him for the rest of his lifespan, however long that would be.

“Dar…” She called to him once again, afraid of what he may reveal, as he shook his hands dry. As he turned, she could see the digressed state of his bloodshot eyes, and he was withered with the haunting memory that was looping visually in his brain. “Come here baby, I’m here.” He couldn’t help but resist, staggering towards her as he crumbled, splaying his body across her lap as he allowed wrecked sobs to escape him. Her hands combed through his hair, as she too felt the necessity to cry. He returned, with no Merle, it could only mean one thing…

A tear, lonely and unforced rolled down y/n’s cheek, as she realised that their mismatched family had gotten smaller. “He-he’s dead.” Daryl gasped out with heavy breaths, feeling his chest tightening from the situation that had made fate its own property. “Merle-”, she shushed him gently; he needn’t vocalise the looming death that embraced the world when he was struggling with getting a single word out. He’d settle a little, if she allowed him to continue laying across her lap, and she had no qualms against it.

“I know honey.” She whispered with an underlying of grief, caressing his scalp a little more to soothe him. “It wasn’t your fault. You did all he could.” The what if’s eventually faded from Daryl’s mind, as his eyes shut and he felt peace from feeling his girl’s fingers raking sensitively through his hair, seeing nothing but a pitch black nothingness.

[inkformyblood]

stay the night (and the morning after) CWFKB #5

Morning Breath Kiss fill for @codywanfirstkissbingo Canon Era, Morning after but mild.

There is no slow awakening for Cody; only a sudden and immediate wakefulness that descends on him, seemingly out of nowhere. He stares up at the blank bunk above him, tracing the sharp lines of rapid assembly that no amount of filler or sanding seemed to be able to hide, and feels the rumble of the ship’s engines somewhere in the soles of his feet and a patch just beneath his ribs. This is a better mattress than he’s used to, the engines generally shake enough to rattle his teeth loose this early in the morning and he had become accustomed to simply rolling over and ignoring them. Next to him, someone shifts, a warm hand splayed over the bare expanse of Cody’s belly, a puff of warm air impacting his shoulder before they settle once more.

Without moving, Cody drags his gaze sideways, straining against the confines of his peripheral vision as he makes out a mess of red hair — his heart picking up in tempo, a rush that near enough sends his head spinning in protest — and a sweep of dark lashes that cast shadows over Obi-Wan’s cheeks even in the dim light. Okay. So, that wasn’t entirely a dream. 

The headache should have clued him in sooner, an oversight he wouldn’t be making again in a hurry regardless of how much the Engineering Department swore up and down that they’d worked out all of the kinks in their most recent attempt at a still. It had been an impressive feat of mechanics and sheer audacity, all gleaming chrome pipes stolen from a passing merchant ship that had been mostly gold plate and wouldn’t miss them and a better maintained cleaning cycle than the rest of the ship that kept them that way. Cody prods his lower lip with his tongue, trying to remember anything past the second drink that had tasted vaguely sweet and had a kick like a bantha to go with it. 

There’d been a proposition, eagerly given and accepted, that much he’s sure of, but he couldn’t remember if he had asked or if Obi-Wan had. The little details slip through his fingers, additional ammo for the pounding headache brewing just behind his eyes. His mouth tastes stale and it’s that that drives him up from the bed, wriggling out from Obi-Wan’s hold and staggering into the fresher. Obi-Wan’s quarters are distinctly nicer than his own, a benefit Cody is going to luxuriate in for as long as it takes for the Jedi to wake up and the subsequent awkward conversation. Cody borrows Obi-Wan’s toothbrush, spitting into the sink and keeping one hand on the faucet as he brushes. In the mirror, his eyes are bloodshot, his pupils blown wide and dark, and, rises onto his toes, tipping his head to one side, there’s a bite on his neck, sore only now that he’s noticed it. It throbs in dull counterpoint to his headache, and Cody leans forwards, dragging his lip to one side, the toothbrush held between his teeth.

He can’t remember kissing Obi-Wan. 

He’ll have to rectify that before he leaves. Cody scrubs a hand over his curls and spits once more into the sink, rinsing and dropping the brush back into the small holder. It’s still early, early enough that he could climb back into bed and try and grab a couple more hours of sleep before the inevitable happens. 

Obi-Wan had rolled over while Cody had been in the fresher, the blanket tangled around his thighs, a section pulled up against his chest. As Cody steps closer, Obi-Wan shifts, reaching his free arm over his head to tap against the pillow, indenting the surface. Cody pauses, chewing on his lip, before he continues, crawling back into bed behind Obi-Wan. He presses his head against the pillow and Obi-Wan’s fingers brush against his nose once, twice. Another sigh floods through him, the muscles in his thighs pressed against the side of Cody’s leg flexing and then relaxing completely. “Where did you go?”

Oh. Oh? Cody blinks up at the underside of the bunk. “Fresher,” he answers, keeping his voice low. It’s still early after all, there’s no reason to disrupt everything and throw out this moment of peace for the sake of a conversation woven with a confession. It can wait. “Go back to sleep.”

“Are you going to stay?” Obi-Wan wriggles around so he’s facing Cody, the blanket a lost cause around his legs. He grunts, reaching down to tug at the fabric but abandons the task after a moment, pressing himself closer to Cody’s side. He rests his head on Cody’s chest, his breathing deep and slow. 

“If you’d like me to.”

Obi-Wan nods, pressing himself impossibly closer. He drapes his arm across Cody’s chest, dragging his fingertips over the curve of his collarbone, back and forth, back and forth. It tickles, the touch delicate enough to barely register and Cody twitches his way through a laugh, forcing his breathing to even back out. They are both quiet and every blink grows longer, sleep descending over Cody as quickly as waking had. Obi-Wan shifts next to him, bracing his hand against the pillow beneath Cody’s head to push himself up.

“Can I kiss you?”

Cody opens his eyes. Obi-Wan smiles gently up at him, his eyes still half-lidded in the gloom. “It’s fine if you say no. I think I still smell like last night and—”

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Obi-Wan blinks, rising up slightly on his hand. The curve of his shoulder reminds Cody of a hunter, something prowling through the undergrowth and utterly focused on its target, even as he prods his lower lip with his tongue. Something utterly starving. 

“Yes.”

Obi-Wan surges forward and Cody catches him, kissing him with equal intensity and it isn’t perfect, their teeth knocking together, the leftover taste of sour alcohol mixing with the sharp toothpaste, but it’s right. 

Blue crosses for posted, orange dots for completed fills. I'm currently posting in written order but feel free to send me a message/request in the tags for a specific fill to be posted sooner <3

[cutephlegm]

Bloody knees

I - A startling awakening

Pairing: Enki x reader

CW: Description of gore

Read on Ao3

Summary: You wake up a complete amnesiac in a dark lone cell at the pits of an awful rotten dungeon. You do not recognise anything, in fact you do not even remember who you are. You have no memory of your name, or of your past. As you travel through the dungeon looking for answers you encounter a mysterious and enigmatic priest, who begrudgingly agrees to help you, and little by little you begin to unravel why and how you ended up in the dungeon of fear and hunger...

In the middle of this wretched dungeon, reeking of blood and rot, you staggered along a tight corridor, the smell of raw death clinging to the suffocating air. You recalled what had led up to this unfortunate point, your brain still addled with confusion and frustration. The past days... months... years... were a total mystery to you. Who you were? You did not know. Why you were cursed with such an agonising headache, was a mystery. Most importantly still- what the hell must you have done to end up in such a foul place. Nothing was certain yet you felt a sense of a hope- a drive almost, pushing you ahead, further into the oppressive maze surrounding you. Every direction you took felt as if it were almost guided, and if you strayed from your intuition, you’d feel that familiar headache reminding you to stick to your gut. You knew this wasn’t normalcy… however there was no point pondering it or even worse, attempting to fight the urge. Your joints ached, and you had bruised skin, bloodshot eyes and bloody knees. Yet you persistent, walking further and further and further…

Eventually you saw a passage branching off from the hallway you'd been walking down. Your tired eyes eyes screwed themselves shut as you saw something you’d only dreamed of seeing: light, manmade light. You gleamed, your pace picking up. You peered inside, instantly greeted by a rather large room, the bottom of which you couldn’t yet make out as stood before you were shelves filled to the brim with literature. It seemed as though you had just stumbled upon a... library? Why a library had been built in this foul dungeon was certainly a perplexing mystery, better yet; who would even bother to use it considering the perilous journey it had taken for you to access it?

The atmosphere shifted once you entered- the air was somewhat lighter, a grave juxtaposition to the heavy morbid scent that had been lingering in the air the past few hours of your journey. You inhaled it, it felt almost fresh, safe… The bookcases ahead of you were tall, imposing and certainly packed with leagues of knowledge. Then a thought crossed your mind… could you even read? The concept of literature remained in your weary broken skull but- had you still retained your literacy? You were sure you'd find out eventually, but now certainly wasn't the time to spend wasted on prying through old books.

While you pondered such thoughts, you heard a noise behind one of the bookshelves, it was the type of noise you'd hear turning the pages of a book... you stop breathing for a moment. Peeking through the gaps you attempt to make out the source but you can only see a faint blur of light across you. There was someone else in this library...Your mind drifted back to the first thing you remember after your awakening:

Your eyes were stuck together with dried scabs, wet blood covering your hands, dripping onto the concrete. You rubbed away the gore from your face and managed to see- at first you weren’t sure your eyes were still present in your skull- but eventually you saw colours… and then you saw shapes. In that cell a dozen minutes after you’d awoken, you felt your first headache, you dug your nails into your skull, trying to dull the agonising sensation but it persisted. Suddenly, the sound of thumbing emanated from outside the cell: footsteps, loud, strong, and ogrish. You'd slipped under the bed while you heard it past, praying that it wouldn't hear your frantic heartbeat and luckily your prayers came true. A moment later you’d realised that the headache perhaps wasn’t a coincidence.

After some minutes of deliberation, you muster the courage to investigate. This couldn’t be a foe...' you had tried to convince yourself. 'What would a barbaric monster like the one you'd heard before be doing reading in such a place such as this?' You didn’t know what to expect, however there were no signs of aching in your skull so with caution you proceeded. You held your breath and coyly took a few steps out towards the noise.

Before you stood a young man, light coloured hair draping over his figure he stood a few feet before you, unfazed by your presence. In his grip he held a tome, flicking though a page every few seconds, his eyes carefully scanning the contents. Bewildered, you took a few careful steps until you were sure he noticed you. “Huh? You are with a sane mind still?" He grumbled, his free hand massaging his temple. "Please leave me. I'm not here to make acquaintances and I fail to see what worth chatting with you would bring." You stare at the man a moment longer, trying to figure out the best course of action.

On one hand he didn't seem all too friendly- on another, you were sure venturing deeper into this place without at least some advice would lead you down a dangerous path. You needed to attempt to speak to him- after all this could be your only shot at getting help. "Wait- Would you please enlighten me on something? I implore you- this will not take long..." The man ahead of you stared you down for a moment longer, taking in a deep breath of air before sighing, his annoyance blatant. "Fine, I’m feeling benevolent… make this quick."

You take a second moment to compose yourself. The man’s glare bore into you, a look of disgust painted on his previously sour expression- maybe it was the absolute state you were in, you realised you probably hadn't bathed in days, you could tell your hair was matted and your exposed flesh was adorned with dark painful bruises... God knows what how they were caused.

"This is going to be difficult to explain...” You began. “I have amnesia. I woke up here and I have no recollection of who I am and why I am here... what this place is even..." You see the priest narrowing his pale eyes, with a stern expression. He mumbled something incoherent before he focused his gaze back onto you. "Amnesia..." He strokes his chin ponderously. "Amnesia, you say. I can believe it. You look half-dead, and the smell of rot and gore coming from you is enough to confirm it..."

You wince at his remark. It was... humbling but regardless true. Your mind wonders back to the possibilities of how you ended up here... "I've heard of such things before- the mind can be a fragile thing. Some things are too much for it to take." While he spoke, you stared down at your hands, bony and pale from malnutrition, callouses on your palms... perhaps the strange man was right... something so heinous and unspeakable had happened to you that your conscience had rejected it.

"You said you wanted answers? Ask what you wish, and make it quick I don’t have all day. "I was just wondering if you could at least tell me where I am... this place is utterly unknown to me." You explained with a heavy sigh. "You have absolutely no clue what this place is? No hint at all?" He asked, almost teasingly.

You shook your head and the man chuckles to himself in a rather unpleasant manor, you noticed he wore a long dark robe, was this stranger some kind of cultist? The man’s expression darkens. "You are standing in the heart of the dungeon of fear and hunger...although that mustn't mean a lot to you..." He pauses, thinking how to follow up on his explanation. "It's a deadly and unforgiving plane, where those unfortunate enough to end up are hunted by countless horror in these ruins. In truth you are very lucky to be among the living..."

You try to process the man's words, your brain cannot fathom what it's being told, you pinch your temples, a pained look on your face. "So certain death awaits me?" You almost laugh, had the world always been this cruel to you? You would probably never find out. "How charming..." The stranger gives you a curious look before raising a brow and focusing his partial attention back to the tome planted in his grasp. "I never said certain death, those are your words, woman." He spat at you. "...Well, perhaps it is foolish to ask but- do you know of an exit I can seek out?" After uttering such words, you feel that familiar pressure building in your head, almost like your body was punishing you for even bringing up such a possibility. You wince, ignoring it for the time being. "Perhaps- what use would it serve either of us if I told you, hm? You wouldn't have the knowledge to be able to locate it."

He was admittedly correct however you still felt annoyance at his words. Freedom was just within your grasp, and the person who held the key to it wouldn't even give it to you, although would you if you were in his shoes... you had nothing to offer to him, not possessions, not knowledge, not even good company. "I suppose you are right..." You grumbled. A moment of silence passes between the two of you, before he shot you another agitated glare and awkwardly looked away. "Was there anything else you needed?" He mumbled. You shook your head.

This man couldn't help you... you would have to figure out a way to survive by yourself. "No... thank you for your advice though… sir?" The man almost rolled his eyes at you, before once again muttering something which vaguely sounded like 'You're welcome' although you couldn't tell if it was your imagination playing tricks on you. “I am a priest of darkness; you may address me as Enki If we ever cross paths again.” You instinctively go to introduce yourself, but realise you had forgotten your own name, oh you unfortunate thing. “I am y/n..” You did not know why you had lied- but nevertheless it was a pretty name that you’d managed to remember. The priest nodded slightly in recognition and you realised you’d outstayed your visit,

Before wondering back into the passage you took one final breath, savouring your last glimmer of normalcy in the library, before the dark descent begun once more.

[reminiscingtonight]

Ona Batlle - Dreams 🥺

Dreams HC:

Ona goes to Barcelona

Alessia goes to Arsenal

You go to Lyon

It's not an easy decision, leaving your childhood club

But a combination of the management of the club as well as your personal life definitely makes the decision to leave clearer

Ona doesn't call you

You don't call her either

You're proud of her when she gets called up for the World Cup. Despite all that's gone down, you're still so proud

You send her a text. [Good luck at the wc. I'm glad you made it]

She reads it. She doesn't reply.

You pretend you're not waiting for Ona to call or text when you also get the call to represent your country as well

She doesn't

The world cup starts

You tear your ACL in the first match

And just like that, your dream is over

You cry yourself to sleep while you're still in the hospital

You think you're dreaming when you wake up to see Ona sitting next to you, eyes bloodshot, hand squeezing yours

You're confused. Even more so when Ona tells you she faked being sick and snuck out to see you

"I needed to see if you were okay," she says

None of it makes sense

She presses a shaky kiss against your forehead, mumbling how sorry she is and how much she loves you under her breath

It feels like a dream, hearing those words

(Reality feels like a far away thing. But here, in the hospital with Ona whispering everything you've wanted her to say, you can live in your dream for a little longer)

Coming out of your dream feels like a rude awakening

(You're cold when you wake up the second time. Ona's gone again. Only the empty coffee cup sitting next to your bed tells you she was ever here)

Send me a fic title

[tharmrs]

{ more than ever }

// more than ever i see the real you, and it surrounds //

| clive rosfield x fem.reader |

summary: where clive comforts his love in her time of need.

word count: 767

the soft sounds of crying were all clive rosfield could hear when he was suddenly roused from his deep slumber.

there was a coldness felt coursing through his veins, an unnatural lack of warmth that caused him to awaken so suddenly. as he opens his eyes, he was achingly aware of how much lighter his chest felt, alerting him of the fact that his beloved had somehow awoken in the middle of the night and left him.

clive could feel his heart aching at the thought, nearly breaking when he thinks back to how strange his lover was acting as of late. each time he came back from his duties as a knight, the more his beloved would seem to retreat back into her shell.

yet still, she always kept that same beaming smile on her face. despite how it never seemed to reach at her eyes, she was always quick to reassure him that she was fine and was merely tired, is all.

but he knew his lover well.

he knew of her tendencies to keep to herself and hide her own burdens so as to not worry anyone else.

wanting to give her the space that she needed, clive respected her wishes and didn't try to pry about her true feelings. he remained ever so loving, ever so patient with her as he simply waited for her to come around and tell him of her feelings.

and he supposes tonight was a breaking point for her.

not wasting another second, clive shoves back the quilted blanket, his bare feet landing against the wooden floors of their shared home as he softly cries out her name. he hears a hiccup and a few sniffles, further prompting him to find her.

with his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the cottage, he looks towards the living quarters and feels his heart aching at the sight that was settled before him. there his lover was, curled up in a ball as her bloodshot eyes met with his concerned gaze.

"oh love, c'mere." clive takes a few steps towards his beloved woman, reaching out to her as he immediately takes her in his arms. with her pressed so intimately close against his bare chest, clive feels the way she buries her face within his skin. as if wanting to bask in his warmth, he feels her lips press a gentle kiss against his heart, making it flutter with its rapid beats from the confines of his chest.

"i'm sorry." as if his mere presence was enough to comfort her, clive listens as her sobs settles down, like a storm turning into drizzling rain as he could feel her pressing kisses against his skin. "i-i had been struggling with some dark thoughts these past couple of weeks, and i am so sor-"

clive then cuts her off the moment she began to apologize once more, leaning forward to press a bruising kiss against her parted lips. he relishes in her sweet sighs of his name, allowing her hands to cling to his broad shoulders as he continues to mold his lips together with hers. he slants his lips perfectly, slotting them together with hers like a missing puzzle piece as she moans against his kiss.

he thinks back to all of the times she has been there for him, through his darkest memories pertaining to his fallen kingdom and the loss of his father and brother. during that time, clive really felt as though he wanted to end himself, to somehow reunite with those that he loved-

yet it was her who stopped him; her who loved and cherished him and saved him from his own darkness.

and could he really call himself her lover if he couldn't do the same with her?

he was the first to pull away from the kiss, eyes looking deeply into her own as he lets out a soft murmur of her name. "i love you, my darling. always remember that. it was you who saved me from my own darkness, and i will always be grateful for the fact that our lives had crossed paths long ago."

clive embraces her even tighter then, pressing a kiss against the crown of her hair as she slowly began to cry once more while in his arms. "nothing has changed, cry as much as you need to. let it all out, i'm here, i'm here."

with the two lovers being comforted by their mere presence alone, time steadily passes by, further strengthening their bond as they knew that they could never and would never part from each other.

fin.

------

do not repost; plagiarize; or translate.

[icycoldninja]

Assuming your requests are open again, may I please request headcanons for the Sparda boys + V reacting to their girlfriend showing up on their doorstep in tears and with a bloody face after dealing with her alcoholic, abusive mother who hits her in the face with a liquor bottle?

Yah, they're open and yah, here ya go--might be a little on the short side, hope you don't mind. 💜

Sparda boys + V x Reader with an abusive mother headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-At 2 in the morning, Dante was awakened by knocking at Devil May Cry's doors. He got up, headed right to the entrance, and flung the doors open, expecting to see a disgruntled, potential customer.

-Instead, he saw you, with tears and blood running down your face, mixing into a watery red mess that accumulated at the hem of your shirt. Your forehead had some nasty gashes and a huge lump that could have only resulted from blunt trauma with a hard object.

-Dante is shocked. In most situations he'd know what to do--he'd give the visitor a few bandages, some hydrogen peroxide, then send them on their way--but this was you. He could never do that to you.

-Eventually he collects himself and pulls you into the building, sitting you down in a chair and running off to find the first aid kit. He can't believe his eyes. How'd this even happen to you?

-After patching you up, he gently asks what happened, and when you tearfully tell him how your mother was abusing you and that you tried to fight back but she hit you with a liquor bottle, his heart breaks.

-Dante then scoops you into his arms, carries you over to the couch, and sits down, cradling you lovingly. He holds you as close to him as he possibly can, frantically mumbling about how much he loves you, and how he's sorry he wasn't there to protect you. He'll do better next time.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil was in the middle of polishing the Yamato when you knocked at his door. Curious about who would have the gall to bother him at this hour.

-Then he flung open the door and saw you with red, puffy, bloodshot eyes, tears and blood streaming down your face, making you look like you'd just commited a murder. Maybe you had.

-He tugs you into his home without a word, tenderly but firmly leading you over to the couch, where he instructs you to wait while he finds something to clean you up with.

-He returns moments later and takes care of you, even lending you one of his turtlenecks to change into. Once you're cleaned up and comfortable, he pulls you into a big hug and asks you to tell him what happened and why.

-You quietly explained how you'd had enough with your abusive mother and attempted to put her in her place, but she smacked you with a liquor bottle which caused all the injuries. Vergil grew very upset at hearing this, and if you hadn't been holding onto him with all your strength, he would have gotten up to find and beat up your mother in an instant.

-However, for your sake, he held himself back and resigned himself to snuggling you on the couch. Your comfort was more important than satisfying his rage; he would stay and snuggle you for as long as you needed him to, and then he'd go and get revenge.

□ Nero □

-Nero was asleep when you came a-knocking, the sounds of your fists rapping against the wood startling him so bad he fell out of bed.

-Understandably upset, he approached the door, wondering who the hell would be visiting him at this time, and why.

-The first thing he saw was your cut face and all the blood dripping out of it; the second thing he saw was your bloodshot, crying eyes. Oh, his poor baby, what happened to you?

-He asked you what happened, and when you burst into more tears while recalling how your horrible mother hit you with a liquor bottle, Nero instinctively reached over and yanked you into his chest, not caring if your blood stained his clothes.

-He then took you to the bathroom where he cleaned your face up, kissing the boo-boos and adding a bunch of bandaids where you need them. Afterwards, he wraps you up in a blanket and sits with you on the couch, his arm around your shoulder and his lips pressed against your head.

-Nero doesn't let go of you until morning, which is fine, since you don't stop crying until then.

● V ●

-V was doing his extremely late night reading when he heard you knock on the door. Rather confused, he set his book aside and went to see whoever had come to visit.

-His shock when he saw your bloodied form standing in the doorway was immeasurable. There were multiple, bleeding injuries on your face, and your eyes were puffy, bloodshot, and overflowing with tears. He'd never seen his beloved Wanderer injured like this.

-He limped towards the bathroom to find the first aid kit, with you trailing after him. He patched you up to the best of his abilities, then hugged you and just stayed there, silently letting you know he was there for you

-A few moments passed without either of you speaking, prompting V to ask what happened to you. It took a while, but you finally caved and told him how your abusive mother attacked you with a liquor bottle after you tried to stand up to her.

-V told you he loved you and that he was so sorry that you had to go through that. He wished he could have been there to help you--he would have gladly whacked your mother with his cane.

-To make up for it, he tucked you into bed and wrapped himself around you, intending to cuddle you to sleep.

[spacedace]

Chapter 4 is here at last haha

Somehow, Oswald wasn’t expecting how young the kids were.

He knew how old they were, obviously. Jazz a few months shy of her eighteenth birthday, Danny sixteen as of October. He’d seen their records and their ages and even their pictures leading up to their sudden arrival in Gotham. Even so, he still found himself taken aback when he saw them in person for the first time.

It was the way that the pictures - school photos, artificial and flat by their nature - didn’t capture how fragile they actually were. The dark circles beneath their eyes, the slouch of their shoulders, the way they kept close, hands tangled together and knuckles white. It was the way that Danny, only a few inches taller than Oswald’s short stature, looked hollow-boned and breakable with his too-thin frame and worryingly pale skin and the mottled brown-green-yellow of half-healed bruises just visible where his long sleeves failed to hide them. The way that Jazz, taller than even Cosmina’s towering height, curled in on herself to try and look smaller, the pretense of a neat appearance falling apart in the face of polite smiles with fraying edges and bleeding nail beds and bloodshot eyes.

They were so young.

-

Tag time below the cut:

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@mentalcarebear @thegatorsgoose @samgirl98 @cocopopm @24-7shipping @sakitsune-09 @stargirl1331 @fictionsthings @terzatheunderscorerima @agent-jaselin @nomorefuckstogive0 @theauthorandtheartist @joseph557 @tncreep100 @alonedustspeck @ascetic-orange @boredteen19 @bonestasteweird @alexzandria-747 @56thingsinaname @cyber-geist @dolfay @nixthenerd @roman4517 @thermitecookies @rainbowbunny0159 @longlivethefallen @thecatchat @goodfish-bowl @coffeeandcrown @f4nd0m-fun @mygood-bitch99 @razieldjinn @hallowsden @saltyladynightmare @lumosfeather18581 @whitetigerdemoness @birdie-24-05 @lyra689 @jayphoenic @alcorbearson @iosonotoro @akikkobara @firedrakegirl @ae-vixrose @ladythugs @felicityroth @capricedhusara @saltyladynightmare @lumosfeather18581 @whitetigerdemoness @birdie-24-05

@listen------sleep @ashoutinthedarkness @serasvictoria02 @uraniumwizard @la-bruja @3hobbitsinatrenchcoat @roseverdict

[coldbanana1331]

Gojo Comforting you

Sypnosis: You had a depressed episode and Gojo Satoru comfort you.

Fem!reader 💋

Tears float continuously down your face. On the bed, you shared with Gojo, lying on your side. He was busy at work, so luckily, he wouldn’t find you in such a state of despair.

It wasn’t quite clear what had sent you off entirely. The day was perfectly fine. Fulfilling the daily schedule is always and then you found yourself sobbing uncontrollably. It was so random. Maybe a depressive episode.

You lay on your side, pathetically, crying your head started to pound and the tiredness took hold. Before you knew it, you drifted off to sleep.

Gojo POV

He came home in the house was severely quiet. Usually you’d be in the kitchen cooking something up or watching TV.

His feet led him to your shared bedroom, where he found your state of being. The soft rise and fall of your chest indicated you were in deep sleep. A smile warmed his face, and he laid next to you. Stroking your hair here and there.

This woke you up, and you sleepily turned over to meet his loving gaze. However, he saw your bloodshot eyes and wet lashes.

Gojo didn’t know how to take this as he rarely ever saw you this distressed. His hand met your face, stroking it softly. You shifted to bury face into his chest. He cradled you and soon the both of you fell asleep together.

Reader POV

waking up with a start, you felt the warm wetness of sweat on your back and neck. As you pulled away from your boyfriend’s chest, your skin felt sticky. He was still asleep, mouth slightly open.

You wondered what you did to deserve such a sweet and loving guy in your life. How could he just come home, not say a word, and know exactly what happened. Not only that, but he just took a nap with you.

Ping your lips as you wonder this, he slowly awakens. His eyes flutter open, and you see the light baby blue eyes. The both of you just stare at each other for a hot second.

“Good morning beautiful.” he says, in a husky voice that shoots electricity through you.

“It’s still nighttime, toru.” You say weekly. Another wave of sadness washed over you.

How can I still feel this depressed?

He pulls you back into his chest. Wrapping his big hands around your waist like some teddy bear. Your hands travel to his back. He was also sweaty.

“We’re both sweaty.” you’re a muffled voices into his chest. He chuckles.

“It’s because you’re so hot.” he replies.

You couldn’t help it, the tears came again. He solved uncontrollably into his chest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper between sobs.

“Shhh. Is ok. I got you.” He says reassuringly, massaging your back softly.

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

He kisses your forehead and you both drift off again.

[kitcatia]

There's something that really gets me about the enhanced tragedy of an AU where Arthur, Jack, Quincey, Lucy, Mina and Jonathan all are A functional and healthy polycule. The thought that they were perfectly happy and that everything would have worked out if Dracula hadn't interfered in their lives breaks my heart.

For clarification, this is my first time reading the book, but I got some spoilers (heard about certain movies and watched OSP's video months before I decided to join Dracula daily) and I keep imagining:

Given the fact that, at least so far, I perceive Lucy as the 'main poly' that connects her boyfriends and girlfriend; and despite the fact that Mina would also be poly and link Lucy to Jonathan, and even considering the possibility of some of the suitors dating amongst themselves…

The loss of Lucy would absolutely break the polycule. Sure, they'd be bloodshot and eager for revenge, but what comes next? I'd say that, even though they'd make all the effort to still be part of each others' lives, Lucy was the link that kept them all together. She was their reason to hang out and do things as a group and, without her, a lot of things they used to do together would simply not make sense anymore. I'm sure they'd manage to still be a great friend group, but everything would change so much, to the point that they barely can call themselves the same people that once composed such a happy and hopeful polycule.

(This is all a modern AU concept btw)

I love the idea of Mina struggling with her feelings because, see, she has known Jonathan since forever and she has loved him since they were kids. Jonathan is the best friend and best boyfriend any girl could have ever asked for.

But she's also known Lucy since forever and loves her very deeply. Their relationship is so intimate and so special. They love calling each other "my best friend". And yet… some lonely nights, when Mina rereads old messages where Lucy playfully joked that they are so overtly affectionate for one another that "someone that doesn't know them could easily suppose they are a couple", she can't help but wish that this hypothetical someone would be right in their supposition.

Both Lucy and Mina know themselves to be bi and have been out to each other for a while now, even though they are very secretive about the details of how they figured it out, since they were each others' awakenings and wouldn't want the other to know that.

Both of them would love to be together, but Mina also loves Jonathan and Lucy would never want to get in the way of such a lovely couple. Also, they're both terrified that a step too far could ruin the amazing friendship they already have.

Mina is also out as bi to Jonathan for sure. I like to think he'd get very emotional when Mina came out to him, because he knows, despite identifying as straight, how difficult this type of honesty can be.

Mina wishes there was a way to reconcile these feelings. She wishes that loving Lucy and loving Jonathan weren't mutually exclusive. And some night, after spending hours grading piles of tests, she just caved and decided to look up online resources on how she could possibly deal with a situation like hers.

After a lot of thorough research and a very long and sweet conversation with Lucy and Jonathan, the three of them come to the conclusion that there surely is a way for Mina to date both of them. Mina strikes me as the type of poly to have incredibly organized schedules and spreadsheets on how to reconcile her work life with spending time with her two partners. Lucy would start to figure out that she might be poly too and Jonathan, despite still being monoamorous, would be extremely supportive of his girlfriend and his metamour.

Eventually, Lucy starts getting along with Arthur and comes to the conclusion, after talking about it with Mina, that there is space for one more love in her life. Arthur takes some explaining as he struggles for a while to grasp the concept, but thankfully Mina still has the PowerPoint she made to explain it to Lucy and Jonathan. And it is a very comprehensive PowerPoint.

But then when Quincey and Jack come along, Lucy is a bit scared that this would be too much. Too much for her, for Arthur, for Mina, for Jonathan. Poor Jonathan! He will need to be briefed on so much when come back from his business trip!

When she sits down with her boyfriend and her two new friends, asking them very sweetly (I imagine Arthur holding her hand to give her courage) if they are familiar with the concept polyamory, Quincey's eyes widen and Jack blushes and looks down to fidget with his hands, as they are taken by surprise. Lucy's heart sinks all the way to her stomach. She knew she shouldn't have done this, that this was a dream too good to ever come true, that now she ruined her chances to have Jack and Quincey as good friends, that now they'll see her as a selfish weirdo. Arthur's grasp on her hand tightens, as if holding it more strongly would transfer some strength to Lucy.

But all of this tension quickly dissipates as Quincey's eyes go from surprised to delighted and Jack looks up smiling an awkward but ultimately happy smile. Arthur looks Lucy in the eyes and tells her he knew his friends wouldn't turn down the proposal of a girl as amazing as her.

Mina quickly receives a message and she is thrilled to hear she's getting not one, but three new metamours to befriend and with which to conspire about all the best ways to make Lucy happy.

She simply cannot wait to tell Jonathan about such exciting news! He really can't come back from his trip soon enough.