#surprise fucko

[zenmai--jikake--no--komoriuta]

hrlfnsdfcndsbl I don't want to go to work today..... "enjoy your quiet week" they said on christmas eve, sike, it's been really fucking busy ever since and the store's a complete mess and we're out of everything and there's no time to restock or do dishes or even have a fucking drink of water............. I stayed back half an hour on boxing day because we were getting overrun during shift handover, came in an hour early on tuesday to cover a sick teammate, lost my fucking day off and had to work the evening shift last night because of another sick teammate (in the 3 customer-facing hours I had I think I got a combined total of <5 minutes to do anything except serve a literally endless stream of people), back in again tonight with a worse team on and then again tomorrow morning, meanwhile the rest of out staff have all gotten to have at least one day off in all of this and I'm the only dumbass stuck working it all... and then I have one day of rest on sunday and then back in again new years' day and the next...

[yailea]

should i make a blog for the advice rater?

[voidingintotheshout]

Two articles that go over the situation of Glee’s Songzilla Lea Michele taking over for indie darling Beanie Feldstein in Funny Girl.

The above article, a twelve minute read, goes into a lot of detail about how Beanie wasn’t working in the role, that it wasn’t a good fit of was asking things of her that she wasn’t great at or not able to do. Pretty much everyone was saying that she didn’t have the vocal chops for a production like this.

The second article (below) goes into what happened in terms of her being replaced by Michele.

My thoughts: This is something that seems like it was intended to be a hail-mary publicity-seeking move to gin up interest in a failing revival of a beloved production. Like, they knew Michele was a controversial choice but they needing to do something, anything to get eyeballs on their show and asses in seats. She’ll probably be fine in the role, but many progressives won’t give her a chance, so the show will probably be made or broken by connecting with, uh, “less-progressive” theatergoers. They figured that Michele with her reputation would get some “un-PC” creeps to “support” her and “her standing up to... other people” as well as people who might see the production to watch a Streisand clone who might lose their shit on someone in a production, however unlikely that is.

https://www.thedailybeast.com/inside-the-real-broadway-drama-over-lea-michele-replacing-beanie-feldstein-in-funny-girl?utm_source=pocket-newtab

[evilminji]

Speaking of Summoning?

We don't see people fuck it up enough. Or CAPTIVES deliberately fuck up their captor's work. Like? Yeah, you are hogtied so tight you look three parts chain to one part man, but you can still WIGGLE.

Aggressively wiggle over that rune until it's too blurry to function! Kick at it with your heel until you scrape the paint! Smear that shit around! You're not here because you WANT to be! Fuck being a polite hostage. Make their life difficult!!!

Or BETTER?

The "$4000 bucks for chalk" take!

It's not the MATERIALS that make John "fuck you" Constantine a force to reckoned with. It's the DECADES of time, training, mistakes, fuck ups, FIXING those mistakes and fuck ups, then surviving the resulting fires.

Any idiot with a voice and some poor impulse control, can use most of those books.

John is GOOD at what he does, because he SURVIVED it. Knows when to stop. What to fuck up on purpose. HOW to do it. And what the results will be.

You're not impressive because you can light your dick on fire with magic.

You're just an idiot.

And when some "you are held back by your FEAR~!" Delusions of grandure fucko, one AGAIN crawls out of the muck like he's something God damned special, and not on the quick bus to a gory unspeakable end? Plays fast and loose with things that SHOULD NOT be let free? Yeah, John exhausts himself keeping millions of people from learning what the inside of Hell looks like.

Wakes up here.

Honestly surprised he wakes up at all.

Most of Dark is here. And Every Single One looks UNSPEAKABLY pissed. Like they got chewed on by a tree thrasher. That was probably on fire, given half the burns he's seeing.

The bastards monologuing, probably thinks they're hanging off his every word. Arrogant prick. Mostly though it's just intense eye contact and eyebrow charades over gags. Head gestures. Seeing who has what and if anyone's concussed. Honestly? You get good at shit like this, after a few too many times bound and gagged.

First mistake always is and has been, not killing them when you had the chance.

But... Zatanna is looking way too pale. And when she sharply gestures with her head? He sees WHY.

Blood on the floor. Not random. Just shitty, shitty writing and no binding agents. Oh sweet merciful fuck. It's not even CHARGED. No grooves to HOLD the blood in a way to keep most of it away from the air. Just splatter painted with some cheap brush on the unscrubbed floor, mixing and contaminated by god knows what, IN LAYERS.

Because it keeps drying.

Because OF COURSE IT KEEPS DRYING, YOU FUCK.

You are DOING IT WRONG.

Is he using THEIR blood? Oh sweet fuck he is. Are you ser-!? One of them is a CHIMPANZEE! Blood's blood literally changes! John's is fucked up! This idiot really things you can just slap it down like PAINT and trot off on your merry lil way, doesn't he? Why don't you just throw "Chemicals" at it next! Big ol bag of whatevers on hand!

At least he has people to share his outrage and horror with.

Oh god, is he STILL talking? Really. REALLY? How long has he...?

Wait. WHAT.

Crazy pants has "found" (more likely was lead by the nose too) a way to True Name Summoning people?! As in "kidnap from literally anywhere and bind them to your will, because unlike normal Summoning Targets they can't fuck off back home under their own power, so it's either submit or stay trapped until you die"??! Oh fuck. Oh shit, oh fuck.

And, OF COURSE, he's going to TEST his new fun trick?

On the Justice League.

Fucker, turns and starts chanting. John is closet, but everyone throws themselves forward. Even though none of them can really move, they have too TRY. His eyes shoot around the shit writing. Trying desperately to make out familiar symbols. Anything. Something. THERE!

He never thought he'd be grateful for all those far too drunk nights and pounding morning hangovers. But he is FAST wiggling across the floor, scrunching and swinging himself around, too sharply scrape the heel of his boot at the concrete floor, just inside that omenious off color Summoning. The layers of blood, painted down again and again to keep the "fresh", stick together like paint chips. Are raised just enough, his shoe tred catches, and all but pops the rune he's aiming for clean off.

Power surges as the spell completes.

He yanks his foot back before he runs the risk of losing it.

The light flares. And between one moment and the next? There are white hazmat boot standing just on the other side of the writen line, from John's face. He looks up into a young, pallet swapped, face. Nightwing, younger then he should be, wrong colors, different uniform. Confused look on his face quickly melting to that familiar "someone's about to get their ass kicked" look as he assesses the situation.

John grins like the MEANEST lil shark. (And yes, he DID steal this look of an ex.)

It WORKED.

Because half the people behind the kid? Not THEIR League. Hero's, yeah, he left that rune alone. But the "civilian identity" that was tied up in the "of this reality" one? Whoops! Guess it was forced to grab any applicable version of the Hero, from the Multiverse, who WASN'T currently off duty. Sure hope your bindings work on THEM!

AND it didn't tip off every single hero OFF duty!

The kid steps over the binding line, bends down, and snaps the chains around John with his bare hands. Offers him a hand up. He takes it. Gets a front row view of alternate versions of his colleges testing to see who is and isn't able to step out. Quiet a few are. Oh dear~, oh dear~. All these Heros! What's a lad to do, huh chucklefuck?

They would like a word.

@nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @babbling-babull

[nolita-fairytale]

comfort & chaos | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter three: heat waves

summary: after a bad date, you find yourself on carmy's doorstep. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: so much pining you may be entitled to compensation after reading this, swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language, mentions of covid-19, eventual smut.

word count: 3.5k

listen to: i like me better - lauv | ceilings - lizzy mcalpine | heat waves - glass animals (i'm sorry but this song invented sexual tension. full stop.) better than i know myself - del water gap

read: chapter two

“sometimes all I think about is you, late nights in the middle of june…” (heat waves – glass animals)

*

June 2021

You: Hey, I’m in your neighborhood. You around?

Carmy: Yeah, what’s up?

You: Want some company?

Carmy: 👍

You: Heading your way.

Carmy: It started raining. Be careful.

You: I noticed. Thanks, dad. 

Carmy: 🙄

You’re not ready to go home yet as you head towards Carmy’s apartment. You’re not sure why you thought it was a good idea to download a dating app the other week… and you’re trying your best not to read into the fact that your first thought was to reach out to Carmy. Hesitant to tell him, you figure you’ll just surprise him by showing up like this – all dressed up. 

It’s not like he’s your boyfriend. He probably won’t even notice, you think to yourself. 

You hope he just doesn’t say anything – so that you don’t have to tell him you were on a date – but as soon as the torrential downpour starts, there’s no way he won’t say anything. You're only a block and a half away, so you decide to power through, storm be damned. 

“Woah,” he says, as soon as he opens the door.

“‘Looks like you got caught in the rain’ woah, or…like a ‘you look overdressed’ kinda woah?” you ask back, your hair beginning to drip on the carpet. 

“Both?” he offers up, trying his best to make it seem like he’s not checking you out. “You’re uh… fancy.”

“Yeah…” you trail off, not sure how much you’re going to reveal. It’s just not something you’ve really talked about yet and you’re ambivalent about how he may react. Hell, you’re ambivalent about how you feel about it too. 

But Carmy hasn’t invited you in yet either, blocking your pathway as he tries not to make it blatantly obvious that he’s gawking at you. “I uh… sort of had a date.”

“Oh,” he mutters, before stepping aside to invite you in. 

He takes a beat, watching you carefully as you enter his apartment. 

“How’d it go?” he asks, hesitantly.

“Uh… not great,” you admit, with a shrug. “But I’m not sure what I expected either. Can I borrow some clothes?”

“Oh! Yeah sure,” he nods, hurrying into his bedroom. 

Carmy mentally scolds himself for even asking. Would you really be here on his doorstep if it had gone well? He knows the answer, but what feels unfamiliar is the tight feeling that’s lodged itself in his chest. 

He wonders when you started dating. It’s not like you’d said anything about it to him. It’s not like you owed it to him to say anything either. Were you on those apps he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around? Or maybe one of those investment banker fuckos that had come into the restaurant a few weeks ago. He’d been this close to burning the whole place down when he noticed one of them practically undressing you with their eyes as you’d walked by from your visit with another table.

Carmy returns to you with a pair of sweatpants and one of his pristine white t-shirts, his eyes fixed on you as you remove your shoes. The kitchen overhead is the only light that’s on, leaving most of the apartment lit only by the TV. You can see a few cigarette butts that have been aimlessly thrown across the ashtray he keeps on his coffee table, and you know he’s been smoking tonight. 

“Pasta Grannies?” is all you ask, gesturing towards the TV. 

“Yeah,” he nods. It’s as if he’s just remembered that he’s holding a dry pair of clothes for you, a look of panic plastered on his face. “Shit. I forgot. Here.”

“Thanks, Carm,” you say, taking them and disappearing into the bathroom for a quick change. 

You examine your reflection in the mirror as you wring the excess water from your hair right into the sink. You take your time, tying your hair into a bun over the top of your head, immediately feeling at ease now that you’re here with him. While most of your makeup is gone, swept away by the rain, you feel much more like yourself in a pair of Carmy’s sweatpants that you ever felt in a fancy dress on that date. You hang your very wet dress over the shower curtain rod in Carmy’s bathroom to dry, before opening the door to rejoin him in the living room. 

Carmy’s returned to the couch, his feet kicked up on the outside of the couch as he stretches out across it. 

“Much better,” you comment, making your way towards him. 

You settle into the couch with Carmy, curled up apart on opposite sides of the couch. It’s a comfortable pattern you’ve fallen into: hanging out, watching movies till 3 am while he smokes a few cigarettes to unwind from the day. You like this rhythm. And you like that it’s with him. 

As another episode of Pasta Grannies begins, Carmy’s mind continues to race. He’s wracking his brain for any excuse to bring it up again – this whole, you dating thing. 

He searches your face for any kind of in. He’s not sure what he’s looking for: a furrowed brow, a sigh of frustration, a look of dissatisfaction? Something he can ask about so that you’ll tell him more about your night. But as he examines you closely, trying his best to get a read on you, iit seems as if you’ve forgotten all about it, comfortably curled up on his shitty $50 dollar couch that he’d found at Goodwill. 

“So… what was so bad about this date?” he finally manages to get out, surprising you. 

You shrug, carelessly, “Men suck.”

Your answer makes him chuckle as he agrees with a, “Yeah, we do.”

You’re honestly surprised that he’s asking. You and Carmy had never really talked about dating – save for a few stories about your exes here and there. You got the impression that Carmy hadn’t dated a lot at all, nor did he seem all that interested in dating. At least that’s what you’ve figured, considering you spend all of your time together and he’s not once tried to make a move. 

“Uh…” you start, figuring you’ll elaborate since he’s taken such an interest. “Just… not great conversationalist. The guy spent half the night trying to convince me that cryptocurrency was worth investing in and uh… I don’t know. Just wasn’t there for me, I guess.”

“What?”

“You know… that spark, I guess.”

And he does. He feels it every single time you look at him with your ‘you’re totally pissing me off and I hate how endearing it is’ look. He feels it on the rare occasion that he makes you laugh. Every time he makes you a new dish he’s working on and you tell him how annoying it is that he’s this damn good.

“Yeah, no I uh-. Sounds like it’d be important,” he offers up, suddenly feeling out of his league. It’s not like he can commiserate or agree with you from experience. 

“You uh… wanna watch something else?” you ask him, quickly changing the subject. 

“Sure, yeah,” he replies, tossing you the remote. 

“Thank you,” you smile at him as you take it. 

You begin scrolling through his smart TV’s apps, searching for a movie to put on in the background. The sounds of the rain falling harder and harder against his apartment windows fill his ears since nothing is playing in the background just yet. He doesn’t remember hearing about a storm, but it must’ve come on unexpectedly. 

Carmy watches you as you explore your options, and he feels like his heart is going to explode out of his chest at the thought of some asshat sitting here on this couch with you – someone that’s not him. He swallows, suddenly aware that he’s clenching his fist. He relaxes it, beginning to fidget with a spare key chain that lays on the coffee table. 

“You end up calling your brother?” you question, in reference to the last conversation you’d had about his Mikey. 

You’d encouraged him to call, even though it seemed like Michael had been in touch lately. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, disappointedly. “Didn’t pick up.”

“Sorry,” you sympathize, giving him an apologetic smile. 

You decide on the first John Wick film when you learn that Carmy’s never seen it. You insist that it’s a classic and he tells you something along the lines of ‘that’s something my cousin would say.’ As the movie rolls on, you stretch your legs out, curling them in towards the back of the couch, while Carmy relaxes, taking up the space of the couch on the outside of you. 

“I can’t believe you like this!” Carmy exclaims, gesturing towards the graphic depiction of violence on the TV. You watch Michael Nyqvist’s character shoot Willem Dafoe’s character multiple times, completely unphased, as he searches your face for any kind of emotional reaction. 

“What?! Being a woman in a male dominated industry… I’ve found that watching action movies brings a sort of… catharsis to me,” you defend yourself playfully. 

“So what you’re saying is… I’m sitting across from a psychopath?” he jokes, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s great.”

“Yeah,” you reply, matter of factly. 

Carmy laughs dryly, his eyes flickering back to you. Your face, lit only by the dim cool hues of the television screen, seems more beautiful than ever. He wonders where the hell that thought came from, brushing it off like it’s nothing. Taking a more teasing tone, he lifts his head to ask:

“And how many times have you fantasized about doing that to me?” 

You smirk, shaking your head as you reply, “You don’t want to know.”

He rolls his eyes playfully, letting out the smallest chuckle, before settling back into his spot on the couch. You laugh once again, enjoying this way more than your fancy dinner date. 

You’re not sure how you’ve both managed to fall asleep in the midst of an action movie, but when you finally come to, you’re halfway through the second John Wick film and Carmy’s fast asleep. Your phone’s managed to fall on the floor, and you have to lean over Carmy’s legs to grab it.

“Shit what time is it?” he stirs, peeking an eye open as you lean over his feet, reaching for your phone. He finds the TV remote right next to him, hitting the pause button. 

“Uh… 2 am,” you answer, sleepily, beginning to sit up. “I should probably go.”

“No, I’m not gonna make you uh-… you wanna take the bed?” he asks, mirroring your body language and sitting up with you too.

“Oh! No, it’s okay. I’m comfy right here,” you reply, returning to your spot on the couch.

“You sure?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you reassure him. 

“Okay uh…” he says, making his way up to his feet. “... let me get you a pillow and a blanket.”

“Thanks.”

It’s not that you wouldn’t take the bed, but you’d hate to kick him out of his own bed. And truthfully? You can’t stand the fact that he doesn’t even have a bed frame. 

That’s right.

The man sleeps on a mattress on the floor. 

As Carmy returns to you, pillow and thick comforter in hand, the only sounds that fill the room are the storm outside. You watch as he gently places the pillow down on the couch for you, and you thank him as you take the comforter, laying it across the couch. 

The sounds of a low rumble of thunder fill your ears and you can feel the way the sound reverberates off of Carmy’s apartment.

“You sure you don’t want to take the bed?” Carmy asks you, running a tattooed hand through his messy curls. 

“I’m sure,” you reply confidently. 

“Okay,” he resigns himself. “Need anything else?”

Just you. 

“No, Goodnight, Carmy,” you say, with a soft smile on your face. 

“Goodnight,” he replies, with the slightest wave. 

Carmy leaves you for his bedroom, closing the door behind him. You slide underneath the thick comforter he’s given you, closing your eyes in an attempt to lure yourself back into another slumber. 

But it’s not so easy to fall asleep this time. 

It’s funny… thinking about Carmy being in the next room. It’s not like you hadn’t fallen asleep together on the couch before. In fact, you’d napped on the couch with each other multiple times. And nothing had ever happened. You’d just slept. You wonder if you should’ve taken the bed. Should’ve told him to grow up and that you were both adults who could sleep in the same bed together without things getting weird. Unless… 

All of a sudden, your mind is invaded with flashes of a fantasy: your fingers tangled in his perfect curls, his lips on yours, the way his body would feel on top of yours as you writhe underneath him… 

Holy fuck. What are you thinking?! You and Carmy are just friends. Carmy doesn’t feel that way about you and you don’t feel that way about him, you think to yourself, snapping yourself out of the vision.

You go over the facts in your head, in an attempt to calm yourself down. You’ve been here before. He’s never made a move on you. You’ve never made a move on him.

You’re just friends. 

Maybe you just need a cold glass of water… or a cold shower… 

As you sit up to get a glass of water, you let out the smallest gasp as Carmy’s bedroom door swings open. He stands there, staring at you with unwavering eye contact – one of those long languid looks that used to think meant he hated you. 

For a moment, then tension is thick. You hear another crack of thunder that shakes the floor as a bright flash of lightning from outside electrifies every molecule inside of his apartment. If anything were to happen between the two of you, it had to be now, right?

“Water,” is all he says. 

“What?” you ask, trying your best to hide your surprise that that’s all he said. 

“I-, I forgot water,” he stammers out, beelining for the kitchen. “Do you want some?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you reply as you rise to your feet.

You follow him into the kitchen area, maintaining your distance as you watch him fill up two glasses of water. You’re not sure what’s come over you tonight, but there’s something different inside of you. As he hands you the glass of water he’s filled for you, you could swear he gives you the most wistful look you’ve ever seen, making it impossible not to get lost in how blue his eyes are. 

“You okay?” he asks you when you don’t take the glass of water.  

Calm down, you think to yourself. 

“Yeah, sorry. Just tired,” you whisper, finally taking the glass from him. 

And just when you think this is all in your head and that Carmy’s going to return to his bedroom with a second thought about it, he doesn’t. He just stands there in the middle of the kitchen with you. He doesn’t take a sip of his water. He stays, his eyes fixed on you as the storm outside rages on, another crack of thunder ricocheting through the apartment.

It’s much louder this time – the loud booms and cracks of thunder alternating with brilliant flashes of lightning. 

Carmy opens his mouth to say something as the room is temporarily lit by another flash, but he can’t figure out what to say either. It’s just the two of you, holding glasses of water in your hands, trying your fucking best not to drop them as you stare at each other. He doesn’t know what he’d even say to you:

You’re irresistible when you wear my clothes. 

I’m holding onto this glass of water so tightly it may shatter. 

I think I might love you.

But he doesn’t say anything.

Doesn’t do anything. 

He doesn’t take a step towards you and you don’t either. 

You hope he can’t hear the shaking in your voice as you say, “Goodnight, Carmy. And uh, thanks. For the water.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, your words snapping him out of his head. 

“Goodnight.”

*

As you wake the next morning, you can’t figure out what the hell had gotten into you last night. You almost crossed the line with him – with Carmy, with your best friend – threatening everything you’ve built together. You’re relieved that you didn’t, that neither of you said anything, because the idea of this ending scares the hell out of you. 

“How’d you sleep?” Carmy asks as he comes out of his bedroom, his curls unruly and all kinds of wild.

In the light of day, you know it would’ve been a stupid idea – what could’ve happened seeming more and more preposterous the longer you think about it. 

“Not great, but I’ve had worse,” you answer honestly. 

“Should’ve taken the bed,” he points out, an ‘I told you so’ on the tip of his tongue. 

“Carmy,” you sigh, unwillingly. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing,” you mutter with a shake of your head. 

“No, what’s up?” he asks you, taking a few steps toward you. He’s not tall, but he towers over you as you remain seated on his couch. You rise to your feet so that you have a little ground to stand on as you muster up the courage to finally tell him. 

“You need to get a bed frame. You’re a grown ass adult,” you demand, eliciting another dry laugh from him. You take a step towards him, closing some of the distance between the two of you. “And when that happens… I’ll take the bed.”

He shakes his head. He knows you’re right, and he can’t believe it’s taken this long for you to tell him. 

“Heard, chef.”

It’s another few weeks before you let yourself go over to Carmy’s – partially because you like hanging out your place with him more, and partially because you’re terrified that whatever juju put those thoughts in your head that night may take you over again. But it doesn’t, and you’re more than pleasantly surprised to see that he’s purchased a bed frame. It’s nothing fancy – just bed slats and risers – but it’s a bed frame nonetheless. 

“You ready?” Carmy asks you, as he’s just finished putting his shoes on. 

“Yeah,” you reply, slipping off your jacket. 

“There’s usually a ton of a/c in the shop. You might get cold?” he suggests. 

The sight of your bare shoulders in the tank top you’re wearing causes his brain to short circuit for a second. 

“Oh I know, but I like yours more,” you reply, reaching for one of his denim jackets that hangs on the coat hook. 

He smiles, watching you slip into the jacket.

His jacket.

The one he let you borrow you the night he got promoted to CDC.

“Now I’m ready. What’re you gonna get by the way?” you ask curiously, in reference to the tattoo appointment you’re accompanying him to. 

“Uh… was thinking like… a hand with a chef’s knife going through it. You know. On my hand,” he shares with you. 

“You’re so weird,” you blurt out, even though you find it the most endearing.

He is. And yet, you’ve stuck around so far. 

“Yeah, I am,” he chuckles to himself. 

*

“He literally bought a bed for you!” Liz exclaims enthusiastically, one night after work. 

“For himself,” you correct her in hushed tones, asking her to lower her voice. 

“Uh no… for you. Because you told him to. And because he wants to get you in it… naked,” she replies. She lets out a frustrated groan before turning to you. “You know what me and Maya call you?”

“What?” you ask, bracing for whatever nickname she’s about to share with you. 

“The Queen of Denial,” she says. 

“What!?” you exclaim this time, defensively. 

Liz chooses to ignore your response, knowing that your defensiveness comes from the fact that you know she’s right. 

“Why are you going out on these dates with guys you don’t even like when Carmy is right there?” she asks you, pointing out the obvious. 

“I-, I don’t know. I don’t get the sense that he’s interested in dating… anyone,” you admit, your voice softer this time. 

“Well, have you asked him?” she states, as if she already knows the answer. 

“We talked about it once,” you hesitate. 

“Bullshit! The conversation about what Nate said doesn’t count!” she pushes you. 

You sigh. There’s so much fear for you here: fear of losing him as your friend, fear of making yourself look like a fool, fear of letting Carmy love you. 

Because it just feels safer not to acknowledge any of these things.

“I don’t know,” you admit, quietly. “After my last relationship I just… I don’t know if I'm ready, I guess. And then pandemic happened and it was a much welcomed break from dating. I didn’t expect… I didn’t think Carmy and I would get this close. I don’t want to fuck up what we have right now, you know? Dating other people feels like… lower stakes.”

Liz takes a moment to let you hear what you’ve just said, but with an unwavering determination, she’s not letting you off the hook. 

“Sweetie, I love you. And I know you don’t want to get hurt again. But one of these days you are going to have to own up to what’s really going on between the two of you. Sooner rather than later. For all of our sakes,” she pleads.

She’s right. 

You know she’s right. 

But you’d also like getting to pretend, even for a little while. 

Because pretending is easy… uncomplicated… and right now, it seems to work for both you and Carmy. 

Fuck, you were fucked.

read chapter four

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos @blue-weekends @the-nursery

[tategaminu]

People find Alastor sexy because he’s a generic ass tumblr sexyman bait which is the only “sexy” male character design that Vivziepop can do

That makes it even worse, maybe it is a me because I have never understood Tumblr sexy man culture, I’m more into pretty boys/bishounen designs and Idgf about the chosen tumblr sexy ones honestly! at this point I don’t even know if it’s a joke or not, like do people really find Sans Undertale attractive? I guess that one is a joke right? It’s a joke… right?

Anyways, tumblr sexy man category aside, Alastor isn’t attractive on his own. As you said all of Medrano's "sexy" male designs pretty much look the same and all of them are ugly and over-designer imo, and Alastor is probably one of the worst ones. He looks like an used tampon (long, thin and red), I refuse to believe this guy should wet my panties.

Personality also has a lot to do when I find a character good looking or not, if their personality is horrid I probably won’t like them as much so it doesn’t help that most of HB/HH characters are terrible people, and surprise suprise he is a serial murder and a cannibal? Yeah NO THANKS, get this fucko away from me, I can enjoy a good villain but that doesn't mean I have to get horny over them.

Coming back to the deer thing, I’m sorry but the only deer trait here is the antlers and he doesn't even have them most of the time, also he is not menacing at all, he looks like a crepypasta deviantart oc

Deer are kinda metal, they can be really creepy and you can make them pretty intimidating:

This dude from Adventure Time is a brown blorb and he still makes me more uncomfortable than Alasstor

The Nowhere King FUCKS

Those deer from this comic are super rad, (one of my favourite comics!)

As someone who draws animals in a daily basis it baffles me how none of Vivz's "animal" characters look like the animal they are representing.

In a summary, I hate Alasstor (maybe not as much as Stolass) I bet he's gonna be the least interesting little shit in the whole series.

[thebearer]

Lmao, I could imagine the reader surprising carmy at the restaurant and her coming in close to sunset being absolutely freezing and just says, "I brought our favorite takeout." He's just focused on her freezing hands and is like, "Why are your hands like ice? Did you walk here?" Cut to her just looking at him and deadpan saying, "surge rates fucko," genuinely head empty no thoughts😭😭😂😂 Carmy is half mad and half cracking up bc she's picked up his slang. He still berates her about walking while the sun's setting but he's like I'll accept this 1 time. Fun fact: whenever I take ubers now, I always imagine that scene, and there's something wrong with me 😭🫡

lmaoooo yes!

he like wants to be mad at you but he's like grinning. "i woulda paid."

"i can walk."

and he's just like rolling his eyes at you lmao. like you calling him fucko is making him giggle in the best way.

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Okay so I've become a SLUT for Austin Butler and Callum Turner and I am NOT OKAY!!!

Like I seriously had plans for fics about other men but God fucking dammit if my mind isn't stuck on these two fuckos!!

I MEAN LOOK AT THIS☝🏻

AND THIS!! ☝🏻

THE FUCKING AUDACITY OF THE TWO!! WHO TOLD THEM SMILING AT US LIKE THAT WAS OKAY?! LIKE EXCUSE ME SIRS I DID NOT ASK TO BE MURDERED THIS WAY!!!

And don't even get me started on their fucking bodies is2g!! *SCREAMS INTO PILLOW *

Anyway do not be surprised if my next posts are nothing but smut and/or fluff with these two. I seriously can't even thinking of writing about anyone else rn.

And if y'all have requests: PLEASE BY ALL MEANS ASK ME!

Thank you for coming to my severely horny TEDTalk. 🥵😍💦🩷🩷

[t4tower-of-t4terror]

Twst horror movie taste hcs

A response to smthn in my ask box! I've actually had this in my drafts for over a year!

Riddle

DEFINITELY was not allowed to watch horror movies

I feel like his dormmates have been easing him into the genre a little

He likes Carrie. He finds Carrie White relatable

I feel like Riddle would also like early horror. Universal monsters and maybe a little Hitchcock

But he can't do gore and he isnt a huge fan of slashers

Trey

Casual horror fan. Pretty decent taste

Like he's seen most of the big franchises (Halloween, NOES, Friday the 13th, Scream, Child's Play, etc.)

He seems like either a 70s horror kinda guy or a 90s-2000s horror kinda guy.

Maybe I'm projecting but. I feel like he'd enjoy Black Christmas

Probably secretly enjoys really fucked up insane movies. Curse of science club

Cater

LOVES schlocky slashers

Definitely watches Dead Meat. I feel it in my bones.

Cater likes campy stuff above all. He HAS done a Jennifer Check Halloween costume.

Probably loves The Lost Boys, The Craft, Jennifer's Body, Bride of Chucky, Rocky Horror, all of that fun stuff

Him and Trey have occasional marathons. Sometimes they invite Riddle

Deuce

LOVES HORROR STUFF

Has a tendency to get spooked by it, though

He absolutely loves the Friday the 13th movies.

Has probably done a Billy and Stu costume w Ace

Ace

He's such a wuss but he pretends he isn't

This fuck chooses the scariest shit during horror movie nights and almost pisses his pants

His fav is probably Fright Night. Idk why

Leona

He "doesn't watch movies"

I think he'd fw Chucky though

Ruggie

Black comedy lover

HUGE fan of b-movie franchises like Leprechaun, Gingerdead Man, Evil Bong, etc

I feel like he watches Troma

Avid $5 movie box enthusiast

Jack

I don't think he'd watch any

He gets too upset

Azul

Hes a coward

He really likes movies where the killer gets revenge on their bullies

Idk why but I think he'd fuck with paranormal horror

He likes The Shining. No clue why

Jade

SCARY TASTE BAD TASTE

He's an extreme horror fan

He's seen it ALL

like. Homie can watch the most fucked up shit with a straight face

He recommends Salo at parties. He also is no longer allowed to go to parties.

Floyd

Like Jade.

Fucko will absolutely be like "we shld watch Slaughtered Vomit Dolls!!! I've heard it's really fun" so he doesn't get invited to Halloween parties.

Kalim

Also doesn't watch horror

He gets emotional when certain characters die

He does fw hocus pocus though

Jamil

Also a really graphic horror fan

He probably likes it as projection

He also likes complex psychological stuff. More of a casual fan but has a morbid curiosity with the genre

Really likes "descent into madness" movies

Vil

ARTHOUSE MOVIES

But I feel like Vil wld adore Black Swan specifically. It's a personal callout

Vil likes the darker, artsier vampire movies. They prioritize aesthetic above all else and WILL critique period-inaccurate costuming

But has one rlly campy guilty pleasure franchise. Idk why but I wanna say Sleepaway Camp. Pretends the ending of the first movie doesn't exist.

Rook made her watch Serial Mom and she kinda fucking loved it

Rook

I'm split here. Because this man is a fucking FREAKAZOID

Either he only watches deeply artsy pretentious horror films for the beauty in it

Or he has a collection of "horror" DVDs that are VERY VERY DUBIOUS. And probably real

Whatever. Rook Hunt I recommend The Hunger with David Bowie and Katherine Deneuve because it suits him. Also Hellraiser for graphic gore and also weird erotica.

Also he's a John Waters girlie. I believe it with my whole fucking soul.

Epel

Why do I wanna say Final Destination or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?

Surprised by how much his dormmates actually enjoy bloody horror movies. Despite that, he handles mainstream horror better than he handles Vil's arthouse horror or Rook's whatever the fuck Rook watches

Idia

Category 5 autisms about Perfect Blue

Genuine diehard horror fan. This is canon btw

He has a canon niche horror franchise he made a detailed Halloween cosplay of. This is a fact.

Also. Re-Animator for obvious reasons

Ortho

He is the horror, if you think about it.

Also he watched Videodrome because of the film club and got really into it

Malleus

I can only imagine him watching black and white horror. And distinctly romantic vampire movies

Bride of Frankenstein girlie

Lilia

All of em

ALL. OF. THEM.

Old weird bat man liked horror movies that only 5 people have ever seen. He has the most insane letterboxd page known to man

Silver

He doesn't have much interest in horror as a genre

But maybe Nightmare on Elm Street. Lilia made him watch it

He liked Dream Warriors.

Sebek

Tried to sit through a horror movie because Lilia likes them but he couldn't do it

[bitbrumal]

BLOG REOPENING

hewwo hewwo fellas & fuckos. winks with both eyes. i'm possibly going to slide in around here throughout the holiday season bc the writing itch be itching, so i'll provide an update on the muse list & the dynamics / threads i'd like to keep ( if y'all are also down ) from before my break.

if you would like this post if you're ( still / again / whatever ) interested in writing with me, i'd really appreciate it ! it'd let me know where to get started again ❤ i'm mainly looking for threads over meme replies, although the threads don't have to be lengthy or involved per se. inbox things just aren't doing it for me.

MUSES

UNDER RECONSIDERATION : KHIONIYA / TSARITSA ( open to all )

I wanna keep her, but I've gotta rewrite her. I've been going on pure wishfulfilment MommyTM vibes, but we need a bit more canon accuracy lmfao. Goddess/Archon of Love, yes, but I ought not ignore that she has become like a reversed tarot card :joy:

SCRAPPED : ALHAITHAM

I should be feeling this criminally autistic nerd, but I'm not. Maybe I will some day. I'm leaving him be for right now.

SCRAPPED : CAPITANO

't isn't happening. i'm not... doing what i wanna be doing with him & i also don't care so fwhoop that one's going.

ADDED : WRIOTHESLEY

No-one's surprised. Daddy came home with the milk the moment I called for him, & uh. As soon as I actually fucking play the Fontaine quests I'm sure I'll pick him up. ( I accidentally spoilered myself on his tragicTM backstory & on god this man is a king. ) ( If I fall sideways into neuvilette instead nobody laugh at me. )

KEPT : DOTTORE ( semi-selectively open to all - he's picky & that limits my options ) REGRATOR ( for select fatui threads unless smth Happens ) TARTAGLIA ( open to all ) KAEYA ( open to all ) DILUC ( open to all )

THREADS & DYNAMICS

Obviously I understand if we're not on the same page about carrying on where we left off, no hard feelings. We can start over, pick something new, slap new muses together, or do nothing it all. Issal GucciTM.

LIKE I NEVER LEFT LOL :

I'd love to pick back up where I left off with @galactia, on any & all muses, their dynamics, & also threads c:

The same goes for @bunnyshot, although I see you haven't been online in ages! Regardless, if we're ever on the timeline at the same time again you know I am down to clown. This includes your other muses.

@torrentide HOMIE. HOMIE. HOMIE. HOME BREWSKI. i am down for everything from before & more, idc what.

If @greedbent is still down to clown, I'd love to carry on with what we were brainstorming in the DMs.

Same to you, @howthesleeplesswander!! I see you writing in another fandom on the dash atm, so I get it if you're not in the vibes for what we were brainstorming in the DMs, but I'm still hype to write with you if the mood strikes you. Lmk if you're down :thumbsup: ❤

@xiielians You know idek wtf you're doing right now bc much as the dramatic chinese gaylords captivate me, I haven't indulged in the fandom + I'm waiting patiently on that novel of yours with eyes peeled—but if you wanna play with anything ( whether I know the fandom/char or not ), I'm sure I'll be game!!

@ncrthlandbank I'd love to continue what we were doing with vlad & alyos ❤ if you're down! The thread where regrator terrorizes vlad is one of my alltime faves & still lives rent-free in my head :weary: it's the only time i did him any type of justice & your no-longer-non-playable-characters are awesome.

REBOOT :

Here go all of my moots with who i never fully settled anything ( dynamic / muse / thread-wise ), but was vaguely interacting with on the dash here & there... I am down to clown with all of you, I'd love to start something be it serious or silly. Whether you wanna continue vaguely doing things here & there or you wanna plot something out, idgaf I am so down to clown i am . the whole circus. vamos lmao.

[spicy-moths]

Glow

Murdoch x AFAB!Reader | Words: 3669

My apologies to Pyre. May they rest in penis.

Warnings: knife kink, use of "sir", "daddy", "fawn", "angel", bondage, breeding, risk, unprotected sex, corruption, obsession, implied stalking, nipple play, oral sex, cum bulge, leather kink...

Don't underestimate the warnings.

MINORS DNI

Murdoch stalks the end of the bed, pacing back and forth as you squirm at the head of it. Your handcuffs have been repurposed, not really ever thinking you’d be on the receiving end of them. The headboard is solid, far more than you thought a serial killer would be able to afford. Racks hang on the wall of what you assume to be weapons, although they’re too shrouded in shadow for you to make out what they are in particular. His golden eyes pierce through the darkness, the only feature you can make out in the darkness as he sits in a chair across from the end of the bed.

“Tell me, detective, how much do you know about me?”

You growl through gritted teeth, which gets a chuckle out of him.

“Easy fawn, I’m not going to hurt you, yet.”

The shock from his statement snaps you out of the anger for a moment. The casualness of it all, the only visible part of him being his legs crossed as he reclines back. The vague threat of your impending doom. But you snap back to reality, barking at him like a cornered dog.

“You kidnapped me! You kill innocent people and kidnap the eighteenth to do what? Torture them?? Watch them slowly slip into insanity so you can enjoy killing them?? Does it get you hard or something, fucko!?”

Murdoch simply listens as you yell at him, and you catch a glimpse of him shaking his head, letting out a halfhearted laugh as he gets up, heading over to a table on the side of the room to fiddle with something. 

“So that’s what you think I am? A man who kills because he has a hard time getting laid? Quite the opposite, detective…”

As he steps out of the shadows, his sunglasses go over his eyes again, a simple tank top tight against his large muscles. The moon illuminates him in almost a ghostly light, shining off the lenses and giving you a brighter flash of those golden eyes behind the tinted glass. He holds a knife in one hand, with a beer and plastic water bottle in the other.

“Are you thirsty, detective?’ “N-No- what the fuck are you on about, Sabre.”

“Now detective, don’t you think we’ve moved past using formalities like last names… I’m much for using pet names, like “worm” for the stains on existence that I crush beneath me, or “fawn” for the precious thing staring at me from my bed…~”

You hate to admit it. You hate to admit that he flustered you. Your cheeks are hot, eyes going wide as he uses those sweet words, just for you. But you won’t let that distract you, you have to get out of here. With a swift kick, you send the plastic water bottle back towards him, and he clicks his tongue in distaste.

“Seems I’ll be teaching you manners as well, all in due time, I suppose…”

He uses the knife to pop the cap of the beer off, sheathing it back in his thigh holster before sitting back. He takes a long sip as he looks you over again, resting his sunglasses atop his head once his face is concealed in the shadows again. 

“Let me tell you what I know about you, little fawn-”

“It’s detective, and you will address me as such.”

He’s surprised at your boldness, his turn to growl this time as he sits his beer down, standing once again as he circles around the back of the chair.

“And I prefer sir but you don’t see me forcing it upon people I have just revealed myself to, do you? Detective-”

The lights turn on and you see large boards of pictures of you, newspaper articles, string, flowers, all a tangle of what looks like a shrine to you. Whatever fight in you leaves your body, a whimper of fear exiting your lips as you cower against the headboard. It seems that your situation was much more dire than you initially thought.

“I’ve done quite a lot of research on you, detective. I’ve taken your coffee order, what your usual is at your favorite restaurant, who your friends are, what model of car you drive. I know you, detective. I’ve spent so long waiting for you…~”

He spits out your title onto the ground, squashing it underfoot like the “worms” he spoke about earlier. With a strike of a match, he begins to light candles around the room, revealing gifts, or what you assume to be gifts, on shelves and walls. The racks of what you presumed to be weapons turn out to be intricate displays of flowers, all of your favorites.

“You know what they say, detective. If a man wants to, he will…”

His footsteps are sure as he stalks up to the end of the bed, placing his hands near your feet as he leans down, eyes piercing yours as they’re revealed over the tilt of his sunglasses.

“And I would certainly say I’ve gone above and beyond for you, haven’t I? Little fawn?”

He moves closer, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you, holding your chin as he forces you to look at him.

“Every vermin who dared try to look at you, to touch you, cause any problem. I got rid of them! All for my fawn. I just wish her to be happy, happy and safe with me…”

Your mind flashes to every time you have gotten close to catching a suspect, about to make an arrest, how they suddenly went missing or ended up dead. You shake your head at him, trying to free your chin from his grasp.

“Shhh, little fawn. You’re safe, with me. I’ll do anything for you, my love. I know everything about you. All I want is your love in return.”

“I- can’t- won’t- love a- killer- like you-”

“Oh, but you will. I’m perfect for you, don’t you see? I’ve gotten you everything you love, and will get you anything you’ll ever want. I only want you now.”

You choke on the air, tears coming to your eyes as you begin to struggle more again. He frowns, unhooking your cuffs from the bed as he brings you into his arms. You kick, scream, plead, anything to free yourself as he just, holds you. No forceful grip, just slowly moving around, trying to soothe you as you let out your desperate attempt for escape. When you finally tire, he brings one of his gloved hands to rest your head against his shoulder, letting you sob into his skin.

“Shhhhh… it’ll all be okay soon. I promise, my dear…”

“Wh- why me- why did it have to be me-??”

He stays silent as you sob out, not even bothering to fight against him now. A soothing hand rubbing over your back, moving down your arms to try and provide some relief against the strain of the cuffs. But he won’t let you go. Not yet.

“Because you are the only one who looked at the evidence, my love. The only one smart enough out of that prison of lustful pigs to actually get close enough to catching me. I have to say, you look particularly cute with a gun pointed at my chest~”

He chuckles as that seems to snap you enough out of your sobs, flustered again as he continues to catch you off guard. A wave of disgust as you found comfort in the arms of a killer, arms that held you with a gentleness that you crave inside… but we can’t let that happen! Weakness is how you die, and you refuse to die. Not now.

You squirm suddenly, being the one to catch him off guard this time. A brief fall onto the bed is all the freedom you get before he cages you in, pinning you down.

“I don’t think you understand, little fawn, you will love me, in the same way I’ve loved you.”

A swift kick to his gut sends him barrelling backwards, and you’re able to get up on your feet for the first time in what feels like hours. You break for the door, trying to free yourself from the cuffs as you run. Fumbling with the door latch, you turn around to see him getting up, stalking you now with no protection over his eyes, his knife glowing gold as it unholsters itself, floating up to his hand as he prepares to dash after you. You throw your body weight against the door, it opens finally as you just run, not knowing where you’re going. A few twists and turns in the dark, and you see the front door. 

“Little fawn, I was hoping we’d wait until later to go hunting. But if you want me to be the big bad wolf, so be it.”

A snarl echoes through the house as you exit into the cold air, running for the trees, grateful that your shoes are still on. Sprinting as far as your legs can carry you, the crunch of the leaves behind you making him feel like he’s always a step behind you. Glimpses of gold dart across your vision, nearly making you trip as they’re clear distractions. Right?

“Couldn’t let me see my angel become truly my own? Let me protect my little fawn? No. They’ve made you afraid, made you fear me…”

Something whizzes past your face, a glowing knife embedding itself into the tree to your left as you keep running. Your legs burn, struggling to keep yourself afloat. But those thoughts inside your head tell you to turn back. That you’re safe with him, he’ll hug all the anxieties away. You won’t have to catch another killer, everything will be okay-

Your thoughts stop as you trip over a root, thinking you’re gonna land face-first in the mud and leaves, but find yourself floating as well. He grabs the cuffs, yanking you back into his arms. Knives circle you both in the air, poised outwards, protecting you.

“Don’t run from me, I couldn’t hurt you. Not you. Please-”

You hesitate for a moment, before letting yourself sink back into his arms. A human, not the monster that you had created him to be in your head. You were tired, wanting rest. He holds you until he’s sure you’re not gonna fight him, before carrying you back to the house, knives still hanging in the air as they protect the two of you from whatever else may lurk in the woods. 

“Murdoch, please, promise me one thing…”

“Anything, anything, I promise-”

“No more killing innocents. Protect the people. For me. Please.”

He pauses as he sets you down in the chair, sitting across from you on the edge of the bed. The glow of his eyes fades as he brushes the hair out of his face, long strands falling back to frame his jaw.

“Anything for you. I promise.”

A click of the handcuffs and they float away, your wrists freed, giving you true freedom. You consider running again, but-

“Please. Detective. Stay.”

Slowly, you stand, slotting yourself against his chest as you wrap your arms around his chest, not even able to link your fingers together with how broad he is. Scar and tattoo covered arms wrap around you, pulling you into place. 

“I’m here.” “My little fawn…~”

Murdoch tilts your chin up, looking into his eyes, a soft honey with the hunger of a bear just behind the surface, tracing around your form.

“You’re perfect, perfectly mine.”

His hand caresses your cheek as his other grips your waist just a little bit tighter. Gaze lingering at your lips, before meeting your eye again.

“May I~?”

You nod, hesitantly. He pulls you even closer, connecting your lips with a sense of starvation, arm hooking fully around your waist to press you against his body. Squirming in surprise, you pull several growls and groans from him. “Careful.”

Against your stomach, you feel him filling out his slacks, and it’s bigger than you thought it would be. But you don’t want to stop, you want to see where this goes. How much he will do for you…

You grind your leg against his hardening dick, and he growls in your ear, snapping his jaws and nearly catching your ear with his sharpened teeth.

“Looking for something?”

“What is it that you get after a successful hunt? A hunting prize~?”

“Angel love of mine-”

In an instant, you’re spun around and pinned to the bed, a ferality returning to the glint in his eye. You squeak, which earns a grin from him. He mouths down your throat, gently biting as he pulls more of those desperate little sounds from you, holding your wrists easily in his hands. 

“Tell me to stop.”

“No, keep going Murdoch. Please~”

“Fuck, fawn~”

Your hands are pinned above your head with one hand as he uses the other to cut off your clothes, sending the knife back away before tearing the remaining fabric away. He moans, looking over your body and how you squirm underneath him. A gloved hand parts your legs, and you swear he almost drools at the sight.

“All that, for me~?”

His fingers glide through your folds, inspecting how wet you make the leather after the shock of cold causes your body to buck up into his hand. He looks you back in the eye, lewdly licking it off his fingers.

“Angel mine, let me ruin you. Let me show you what I need from you.”

“You won’t-”

You don’t even get the remark out before his tongue is gliding through your cunt, gathering up your slickness and moving up to suck at your clit. Your hands strain against his, hips bucking up into his mouth. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder as the other is pinned against the bed with his body, arm around your thigh to hold you in place. His tongue dips inside you, briefly pumping in and out as you feel flicks of cold, your mind fogging as you haven’t experienced something like this before. Nothing so intense, so intent on making you cum.

He sucks at your clit again before bringing his head up, mouth covered in your wetness as he grins, kissing the inside of your thigh that rests next to his head.

“Won’t I~?”

His tongue wipes his lips and your catch a glimpse of a tongue piercing, said piercing being pushed against that bundle of nerves, him not letting up now. He lets go of your hands, which fly into his hair as you try and get him to lessen, not realizing where that hand is going until he presses two gloved fingers into you, sending you into a white hot haze as your body violently cums around them. 

When you come to, you’re laying back, warming his fingers as he looms over you. His face still glistens from eating you out, but a wet stain now decorates the front of his tank top. 

“H-Holy shhhhit-”

“Never squirted before, fawn? Get used to it~”

His fingers start up again, thumb grinding against your already abused clit as he now takes one of your nipples into his mouth, giving the other attention as well, just to get you moaning and squirming as his fingers work you open.

“Poor little thing, daddy’s making you feel so good and you just don’t know how to react, isn’t that right~?”

“Y-Yes s-s-sir-”

“Good girl.”

His mouth resumes his attention to your chest, swapping between each nipple to give them equal attention, teasing his tongue piercing against the sensitive nubs. Your hands fly everywhere, unable to process what he’s truly giving you. You rock your hips down as he adds a third finger, getting you just a little bit wider.

“You can do it, I know you can. Don’t worry, daddy will take his prize.”

Murdoch stands tall as he pulls a condom out of his pocket, moving to shuck down his pants just enough while his thumb and fingers are pressed to hit all the spots that make you see stars.

“No- please- we- don’t need it-”

His eyes flash again as the condom is discarded to the floor, looking your form over once again.

“You do know that it won’t be safe…”

“Don’t care- just- please daddy~”

A switch turns on in his brain and his hand leaves you, fully stripping as quickly as he can before tossing you higher on the bed. His lips meet yours as he moves your hips around his, hiding you on the bed with his form. Slowly, inch by inch, he presses into you. When you feel his tip touch the deepest part of you, you nearly scream a desperate sound, struggling to not move as he just won’t.

“I’m sorry, angel. I just needed to make sure I didn’t forget how you felt the first time I got the pleasure to fuck you.”

You attempt to respond before he snaps his hips back, ridges and veins brushing against your walls as you’re reminded once again at how full you feel. A glance down and you see him moving inside you, how big and thick he is. But then he’s stronger, pushing into you with more need, more ferocity. He growls when you squeeze around him, making him slow his pace but it feels like heaven as he shifts his hips, making you see stars with a scream of his name. 

You clench down hard around him, squirting again as there’s no room for anything else inside you. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you flush against him. He moans deeply, leaning down to nip at your neck again when you come down from your high.

“It doesn’t take much from daddy, does it? Little girl just needs to take what daddy gives her and she’ll feel so good. Sweet angel mine~”

Despite not wanting to hurt you, it takes incredible strength from him to start pumping into you again, briefly moving your hips for you and fucking himself with your cunt before you lessen enough for him to rock into you more naturally. Kisses and hickeys litter your chest and neck, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. You feel him get faster as your head is swimming, having already hit two of the hardest climaxes  you’ve gotten in your life, but he still hasn’t cum yet. And you want him to.

Gods, just the idea of you getting filled up by him is exciting, and you don’t realize you’re babbling out pleads for him to fill you up until he growls into your ear again.

“Yeah? Little fawn wants her big bad wolf to fill her up? Begging daddy to give her what she needs?”

“Pl-ease da-addy- I ne- nghh~ -eed it-”

“Fuck, you need daddy to breed you, little fawn~?”

“PLEASE-”

Never in your life have you let out a beg so desperate, but the fuzziness in your mind has cast out all kinds of judgement. He’s so much, you want it all. At your pleads and begs, he speeds up, rougher, before pushing your thighs up, folding you in half.

Murdoch pulls out briefly to adjust you, cock dripping with pre-cum and your juices, before pushing back in with a new vigor. Your lips are devoured quickly, swallowing up your noises and any remaining attempts at begs before he pushes his tongue into your mouth, making you nearly choke. But you manage to suck on it eagerly, too fucked out to realize it’s longer than it should be. 

“Alright fawn, cum for me. Cum for daddy.”

His fingers make very quick work of your clit, enough to push you over that edge of pain, pleasure, and overstimulation. You squeeze and clench hard, but he keeps pumping into you. With a groan, you feel him start to spill into you, making you giddy as the warmth spreads through you. You swear that you were dragging him in, but there was no need as he kept going, fucking it in deeper than you thought it could go. 

He finally stills after a few minutes, unable to fit more into you. Murdoch pulls out, getting the last remaining amount jacked off onto your chest, to which he gladly cleans up with his tongue. Your face flushes, especially when he kisses off a bit that got on your face, with you licking your lips before he can get the droplets there. 

“Oh naughty little girl, does daddy taste good?”

“Mmmmmhmmmm…”

“Good girl, you can get more of a taste if you wanna thank your daddy.”

He releases your legs, and they slink back down to the bed. You blink, processing his face before looking down, seeing a clear bulge on your abdomen, and a mess of cum across your thighs. Then you look up a bit more, and see there’s plenty of it still on his cock. And you want it.

You crawl onto your front, settling between his legs as you lick his cock clean, taking the tip into his mouth as you suck anything remaining out. A glob falls onto your tongue as you look up at him with big doe eyes, and if you hadn’t just sucked him dry, he could’ve cum again.

“I’m fucking that mouth at some point, fucking hell…”

He pulls you off and into his lap, pushing his cum back in with his fingers. A knife then flies into his hand, biting the blade and snapping it from the handle, The blade is spat onto the floor as he holds the handle, warming it.

“Gotta keep my little fawn well bred, I’ll get you a proper toy next time. Promise.”

He pushes in the handle of the knife inside you, the hilt keeping it from going any further. You let out a gasp, before sighing in satisfaction.

“Lovely angel of mine, my little fawn…”

“Yours.”

[anime-simp-0]

Heyy hey!! Can you please write a izuku x sick reader with writing prompt 5. Thx so much!!

absolutely love! enjoy~! #5. "I'm going to take care of you, okay?"

there was only one thought stuck in your head at the moment.

this fucking blows.

currently, you were wrapped in your sheets as you battled the aftermath of overexerting your quirk. according to recovery girl, you were supposed to be treating this as if you were sick. and honestly, you felt like it; fever of 101, dizziness and nausea that made even water hard to get down.

part of it was your fault, you had blown past your limit during a training mission. class 1a was supposed to be escaping the villains (1b) territory which in this case was a city (ground beta). for 1b, it was supposed to emulate villains on the run through a city. 1a's goal was to make it to the city limits without being caught, 1b's goal was to capture the runaways. simply enough, yeah? but it wasn't just any training mission. you had been partnered with your boyfriend. you wanted to impress him, show him all the progress you had made and show off a little too. sure, you wouldn't deny that that part was your fault.

what wasn't your fault was that you were going against class 1b and those fuckers didn't hold back whatsoever. everything had been going well until about 3/4 of the way through. you knew you had past your max, but if aizawa had taught you anything, it was that the only way to improve is to push you max to increase how much you could handle. even though it hurt, it was manageable. a couple pauses to catch your breath. a slight shake in your arms and a headache that was starting, but overall easily ignorable. that was, until one of those fuckos decided to do a surprise attack and aim for izuku's blind spot. you didn't mean to, but your quirk had a mind of its own. before you even registered what you did, your quirk had sent the opponent flying.

and you immediately felt the backlash.

your vision got spotty and your knees buckled underneath you as you hit the ground. let's just say izuku was more than concerned for you. he reached for you to help you up and the touch of your skin was all it took for him to know exactly what was happening.

"you're past your limit y/n" he whispered concernedly into your ear as he helped you to your feet. he did a quick scan of your surroundings before diverting his attention back to you, "we need to go, there's no way his partner isn't close by." almost as if on que, you heard the echoes of his partners footsteps pounding through the alleyways of the "city".

a slight panic triggered in you as you turned towards your boyfriend and nodded, grabbing his hand, "hurry." if you both were right about where in the city you were, you just needed to take a couple turns to end up on the main road and then it was a straight shot to the finish line. you went to take a step to start your sprint but izuku grabbed your other arm.

"are you sure you can run that far? i can carry you-" he shook his head as if denouncing the statement "i'm too heavy" before it could even leave your lips.

"i'm fine deku, i promise" you shook your head, "now come on, we don't have time to debate this. run!" his hand let go of your arm as you sprinted hand-in-hand into the alleyway. turn after turn, you tried your best to ignore the pain that was increasing in your joints and the headache that was starting to feel a lot more like a migraine. by the time you got to the main road, you were really regretting not taking him up on his carrying offer, but you'd be damned to ask for that now when you knew how close you were to making it on your own.

when you finally crossed the city limit lines, you heard the announcer yell out "class 1a team wins!" but neither you or izuku could celebrate your victory. not with the way you practically crumbled onto the concrete. izuku didn't even think twice before scooping you into his arms and running you all the way to recovery girl himself. that's how you found yourself laying on recovery girls table before she lectured you on not following in your boyfriend's footsteps in taking shit care of yourself. well... maybe not those words exactly. but it was close enough to that that it didn't feel like too much of an exaggeration. but anyways, she sent you back to the dorms with the instructions to say in bed, hydrate and more or less treat it like a flu or cold. nothing that proper rest couldn't fix. 3-5 days was her exact recommendation. 3 before heading back to class and 5 before jumping back into hero training.

so there you were, sprawled out on your bed desperate to cool off while your insides felt like they were boiling and a nauseating feeling that moving anymore would have you spilling your guts into the trashcan by the side of your bed. there was a soft knock at your door before you heard the lock 'click' and the sight of a fluffy green haired boy peek his head in. "are you decent?"

you chuckled softly, "a little late to ask that with your head already in the door, don't ya think?"

he smiled softly before opening the door and stepping in, "good to know you didn't lose your spunk."

"who even says that?" you looked at him confused before laughing again. his eyes sparkled in the hallway light before he shut the door and locked it again.

"i do as long as it makes you smile," he hummed and looked towards the balcony, "think maybe sitting out there is gonna help you cool off? or at least opening the door to let in a breeze?"

"maybe," you groaned, " but honestly, i think if i move much more i'll die."

he huffed at your dramatics before sliding the door open. a chilling breeze blew in within seconds and onto your skin. it hurt at first. it felt also like ice against your skin. but even though the pain, you knew you needed to cool down. much hotter and you'd be sent to the hospital and the last thing you needed way a hospital visit because you decided to overuse your quirk.

izuku sat in your desk chair, watching you breathe as the breeze pulled at the sheet that was loosely draped over your chest to reveal his shirt. the first one he ever gave you, easily two sized too big and rested around your midthigh when you stood. the pattern was faded and the seams were starting to split on the one sleeve. out of all the ways he's seen you, dressed up or in your hero costume, in jeans and a tee shirt or even nothing at all, he couldn't deny his favorite was probably seeing you wrapping in his clothes. not because you weren't perfect in whatever you decided to wear, but because he felt special knowing that the reason you loved wearing his clothes was because of him. that they made you feel safe. that the scent of him alone was enough to put your worries to ease and comfort you from the demons you didn't even tell him existed.

after a few minutes, you turned to him, "if i had known you were stopping by i would have put on some perfume."

he cracked a smile and laughed before shaking his head, "i sent you a text but you never answered. figured you might have fallen asleep but i still wanted to check. make sure you had water and a snack, didn't have any candles or something still going, didn't have the door left open." he nodded towards the balcony door. he paused and turned back towards you, "feelin' any better?"

you sighed and sat up slowly, "a bit." you rubbed your face as you got your legs off the bed, "my insides don't feel like they're boiling anymore." he nodded softly, "just on a low simmer."

he chuckled again, "yea well, maybe let's put some water in you and see if that helps drop it even more."

you shook your head softly, "you dont have to take care of me, okay?"

"i want to though," he shook his head.

"izuku-" you started before he cut you off.

"no," he stood up, "no, you don't get to 'izuku' me right now. you're sick. and it's my fault because you had to save me and now you feel like absolute crap and theres nothing i can do to fix that, but i can help. i can help you get better. so please... please." his gaze was stubborn and you knew that no matter how much you argued with him, he would still find a way to get his way.

"fine," you rolled your eyes and ran your fingers through your hair.

"fine?"

"fine."

"alright then," he looked pleased with himself as he grabbed your water bottle off your desk and handed it to you. you looked up at him through your lashes before opening the bottle and drinking about halfway. you sighed and laid back on the bed as izuku stood and walked softly towards you. he turned and sat next to you on the bed before laying down and aligning his face with yours. you both gazed at each other for a moment before he brushed a stray hair from your face, his eyes tracing over your features as your eyes fluttered shut. "come on," he mumbled quietly, "i'll close the door and we can get cozy together, yeah?"

you sighed quietly, "yea... but you have class in the morning. wouldn't you rather-"

"i'm right where i want to be," he hushed you, amused that you think he would rather be anywhere else then in your arms. he stood up and closed the door as you rumbled around in bed, moving the sheets and blankets to make room for him as you got closer to the wall. he closed the balcony curtains shut before pulling back the covers and laying down, adjusting so you could lay your head against his chest. once you did, his fingers delicately ran across your scalp, down your neck and started drawing little patterns on the top of your back. there was a comforting silence, only filled by the sound of your breaths and his heartbeat.

"i'm gonna take care of you, okay?"

"i know, i know,"

"no, i mean..." he paused, "forever. you're not... you're not just a temporary thing for me... you're it, okay? for the rest of forever. i'm gonna be here. i'm always gonna be here to take care of you. i'm not going anywhere, i swear."

"don't make promises you can't keep," you muttered quietly against his chest before he paused and lifted your chin.

"i'm not. i promise, on everything i am, have and will ever be, i'm not going anywhere."

your lip quivered softly as you gazed into him eyes and saw nothing but certainty. he believed with his entire soul that you were destined for each other. that the fates themselves had made you for him and he for you. and he was more than positive that if anyone could see the little red stringers on the end of your fingers, the only person it would be tied to is each other. regardless of whatever happened in your futures, no matter the sickness or despair, he would never leave you to battle it alone.

[tobiasdrake]

So, if I know my Mesa Island geography, we should be getting pretty close to Songshroom Marsh. Wonder if Yoyo's still hanging around here?

That's, uh... that's... not an ominous name or anything....

This place... doesn't seem quite as fun as Luana made it sound.

Okay, full disclosure, I was actually trying to drown myself in the mire because I want to tell Quarble about all the cool stuff I did.

But this is cool too. I guess the moral of the story is that sometimes attempted suicide comes with neat prizes. If they ever write a fable about all the things I learned on my travels, I'll be sure to include that.

Holy shit, the Magic Seashell? The one from Watcher Island that lets you breathe underwater?

Wait, no, I can already do that for some reason. Plus, it doesn't really look that cute. Luana said it was a cute pink clamshell thing. She was very excited about it. But this more resembles a slug.

That does sound like it relates to the magic Docarri shells, though. Hmm....

Yeah. Uh. What the hell happened to this place? Luana didn't like it very much but what she described pales in comparison to how tortured and gross the marsh is.

Also, she called it Songshroom but the sign at the entrance said Quillshroom. So. Obviously some changes have taken place.

Oh, is it the cool magic seashell I found? 'Cause I found it. You can't have it back. It's mine now, as laid down in the Mine Now, Fucko bylaw.

Primal Fear... fuck, I know that name. It's... somewhere. Maybe one of Teaks's stories? I don't know. I've heard it before. I know I've heard it before.

No, wait! It was one of the volumes of prophecy that Yoyo kept in her cabin. She had a book on Primal Fear. That's where I know the name from.

Is. That. Where the living mushrooms come from?

...Luana wrote about them singing. The ones I've seen have not been singing. I don't think they're enjoying their fungal lives anymore.

With gusto.

I can't believe you told me to fight it! Do you have any idea how humiliated I was!? That was the most embarrassing moment of my goddamn life.

And I once screwed up Cloudstep practice so hard I ended up dangling from a tree branch by my pants around my ankles. I met Quarble on a return trip through a challenge I'd already solved. So the competition is steep.

How many times have you sent members of my order to their graves to pick a fight with a harmless glowball minding his fucking business!?

FUCK. No wonder Luana called probably-you an assclown!

WHAT. NO. I don't really see much relevance or importance in your stories - I think the pear tree one might have been about Yoyo maybe? - but I've been enjoying them nonetheless.

I'll stop touching your cabinet if you keep sharing stories with me. ._. Pweese?

Oh, there's the singing mushrooms. Okay, so they are still here.

They. Uh. They don't look very cheerful, though. Luana said they were cheerful.

Gotta say, not a fan of the titular quillshrooms. Their quills are incredibly difficult to dodge, especially when they fire while I'm in midair. What total assholes.

As a botanophobe, I can't be surprised by this, but fungus is far more dangerous than turtles.

...how stupid do I feel like being today?

I am... passably competent at the Cloudstep. I think I could--

Okay, I want it on record that I actually made it, but was killed by a Quillshroom afterwards. After being thoroughly tenderized by spikes in the process of making it but that's beside the point. The point is I'm awesome and this is definitely going down as a W in my book.

Not important. What's important is HEY BESTIE, check out where we are? Yeah, that's right, I'm blazing trails through Quillshroom Marsh with my expert jumping and profound getting-stabbed proficiencies.

I know we were in Howling Grotto last we talked but I... found the exit of my own accord and nothing else happened. Now we're here. Trying to not be here as expediently as possible because I don't want to be a mushroom.

...

Why is this my life?

...we've found one secret path beneath the mire. I wonder... This does look very suspicious.

They thought they could hide their secrets from me. Joke's on them, I am highly skilled in observation and pattern recog--

I think I hate this place.

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Fucko's Depends are fillin' up....

[thebatbites]

disclaimer: i have no genuine hatred/contempt for jess or jason! i am just very, very angry!

i hate how every guy in mystreet is obsessed with aphmau. like it pisses me off SO much. like okay. i get garroth, laurence, and aaron because you know THEY WERE HER LOVE INTERESTS IN MCD but dante??? travis???? brendan (for the literal slightest bit that he was here)??? three people who did not show any romantic interest her besides small (insignificant) crushes, that didnt go beyond playful flirtation and/or quick things that dont go deeper beyond surface level.

and i know mystreet was written in tandem with pdh but it doesnt make sense that they would include a wholesome friendship with travis and aphmau and then turn around and have them turn around to be strangers and travis flirting with her because he has an interest to her (but does... but does he actually??? or does he just like her because shes pretty like???)

thats why i like zanemau (as i will ramble abt in another post) so much because i was rooting so HARD for zane because he does flirt with her occasionally but its always backed up with a joke and he never showed any romantic interest for her. HE BECAME HER FRIEND FIRST. HE BECAME HER FRIEND FIRST. HE BECAME HER. FRIEND. FIRST.

and ofc im going to have the whole group genuinely become friends first but in mystreet it PISSES me off

and on top of that, they treat her like a prize to be won. which makes me mad because their mcd counterparts would. NEVER.

ive never talked about it here but all of the guys (excluding zane and vylad) took the biggest brunt of the character assassination tirade that jason (jason. not jess. jason. i have a firm belief that jason was a bigger contributor to mystreet than jess) went on to reduce all of the characters to cheap knockoffs and unfunny flat, static characters. while their mcd characterizations werent perfect, theyre LEAPS and BOUNDS better than their mystreet variations

and you want to know why? because they probably sat there and looked at the original version of mystreet (and mcd season 2) and said "damn, aaron is a fucking boring character" because he IS. compared to the vast majority of the characters in mystreet and mcd, aaron is largely uninteresting! in mystreet he has no real motivations. no drive, no friends, no job (that we hear about) and we never see aaron and aphmau hang out UNLESS its a scene where garroth and laurence over-fucking-react to aphmau having friends (oh god forbid the woman have male friends!) and sure he has the ultima thing going for him but we never even start hearing about that until mystreet season 3 (and pdh season 2)

and in mcd hes even worse! hes just some (probably musty) dude who came out of nowhere and saved aphmau from werewolves and has a vendetta against zane (surprise surprise, look around fucko! you arent alone, the entirety of rua'an has an axe to grind against the fucker!! get in fucking line!!). hes even LESS interesting than mcd aaron because he legit has NOTHING GOING FOR HIM. he never even made conversation with aphmau unless she was being a damsel or they were alone!!

you know doki doki literature club? when monika starts fucking around with the character files and pumped all of the girl's worst, most undesirable traits to max to make herself appear more likeable to the mc? i imagine that was jason's idea to make the boys look terrible and aaron look like a hero.

also side note: the fact that jason looks nothing like aaron weirds me the fuck out. like aphmau is obviously jess' self insert with similar hair, skin, and eye color but aaron looks nothing like jason aside the color of their fucking eyes. wack.

anyway thats it. sorry its taking me so long to update any of this, ive been trying to you know do this whole "self care" shit. its been working really well but ive been spending less time online as a result! but im working on my notes and im trying to figure out how i want to write this out! i dont have the time to write a comic book but i was thinking about writing and posting it on ao3!!! what do you think?

anyway, thats all for now. toodles!

[dballzposting]

hey remember when i talked a lot about maté and Trunks and Goten and maté? I think while the whole maté situation is calming down they would fuse again for reasons that they don't even know-

they really just do that shit sometimes at this point and being Gotenks is a 30 minute gamble cuz he either does something awesome or spends them all watching the spiderman movie trilogy via a 30 minute ytph (hispanic youtube poop, i mention the hispanic part because there is literally a 30 minute ytph of spiderman on youtube and i watched it in one of my most deranged states possible, such as the one i'm writing this to you in) and like they don't even remember the ytph clearly so it wasn't even worth it like what the fuck Gotenks we're never fusing again (they fuse again a couple of days later)

Ok the point was they would stop their Maté Cold War and fuse again and when they unfused they would find themselves in the capsule kitchen surrounded by wet yerba (the plant yknow that maté is) and like sugar and water all over the floor and its a huge fucking mess and there's a maté cup turned over and the thermos is on the floor too and there's a broken glass juice jar with ice that hasn't melted yet and their mouths taste like grass and have no fucking clue what just happened.

They never really find out but they know it must have been bad, absolutely fucking terrible even, and after getting like scolded and made to clean GOTENKS' mess they decide to put their stupid maté aside for GOOD and now they get together to drink it like normal fucking people and now Trunks makes terere for Goten on purpose and he's like "yo dude i made this for you" because he has chilled out (about the maté thing not about anything else) and Goten would be like "haha aww you do give a shit Trunks oh my god" and they would be normal about maté. except not really. because those boys have a primal strangeness to them that i don't think will ever go away, and that's like, awesome i think, it's lovely even.

Anyway that was that but now im thinking about like after this event maybe their families notice that they fucking stopped with the whole "*makes you drink maté* and *EXPLODES YOU WITH MY MIND*" thing and maybe they do like a thing with all the Z fuckos at Bulma's house again like "yeah let's get together and have a drink and hang out why not since these little idiots have finally stopped arguing about the cooler tea" and

i don't fucking know where i was going with this actually i just had two ideas about this possible scenario

Goku and Vegeta attempting to have maté together alongside everyone else and probably fail miserably because they are. them. you know them. Also Goku would probably drink maté with sugar and Vegeta would fucking hate that i think

Yamcha is there.

"Yamcha is there" is open to interpretation but i personally think he would have a look at Trunks preparing the maté and he'd be pleasantly surprised.. Also he's one of those guys that puts extra herbs and stuff on maté like orange peels or a little coffee or sweetens his with burnt sugar caramel....

Yamcha is very gaucho-esque to me in a very special way like he's a lot like Goku in the way they both have this very warm welcoming rural aura to them but Yamcha is more like my grandma that would go to the countryside of Santiago Del Estero and come back with ostrich eggs?? and would make me omelettes with ostrich eggs sometimes?? and let me keep the eggshell and paint it and stuff- Yamcha would do that to trunks he would go to the countryside and be back with something for him and he'd tell him tips about making maté and stories about the animals and stuff cuz i would be like 8 years old and my grandma would be back from Santiago and she'd be like "i killed a chicken :) and we ate it" and i'd be like woow grandma thats so awesome you're so cool and i think Yamcha would be back and he'd be like "Que onda pibe adivina que te traje del campo?"(what's up kid, guess what i brought you from the countryside?) and maybe he'd bring him like-

ONE OF THOSE RED STRING ARTESANAL BRACELETS THAT ARE SUPPOSED TO WARD OFF BAD ENERGY- Yamcha would SO bring Trunks one of those i just know it i feel it

anyway goodnight or whatever time it is there lmao

BLOWN AWAY.

Going in order:

GOTENKS WOULD.

ABSOLUTELY FUCKING EVERYTHING UP..! TRUNKS'S YOUTUBE SEARCH HISTORY , HIS KITCHEN , HIS INTEGRITY, HIS LIFE, ETC ..

It's like Gotenks is a metaphor for whatever potency is occurring between Goten & Trunks, he's a manifestation of their union, and so his life's purpose / natural way is to behave in a manner conducive to the necessary expression & resolution of whatever Goten & Trunks are going through. They both secretly are missing the days when they used to make youtube poops together, and so Gotenks watches that spiderman ytph. Their past maté disagreements are incurring subtle rifts in their bond and the silence regarding is beginning to ache, so Gotenks unwittingly mobilizes to address & negotiate with this distress by trying to make maté POORLY in the capsule kitchen.

"those boys have a primal strangeness to them that i don't think will ever go away, and that's like, awesome i think, it's lovely even." oh my goodness .... Hi. This Is Real

UM GOKU LITERALLY WOULD DO THAT LIKE .. obviously tastes change with age but I'm thinking about how in the original dragon ball he thought that bulma's coffee was "bitter soup" and while I think that Goku is a Classy and Respectable man, and lives life authentically and organically, and probably drinks maté like a proper gaucho, I Would Not Be Surprised if actually he doctored that shit up with sugar .

And Vegeta would be mad no matter WHAT Goku does . He would be like "why do you put sugar in it, kakarot ..!" and then be like "quit hogging it, kakarot..!"

YAMUCHA IS THERE ..

No more words needed form me just reading this over and over and over and over like it's the most important thing in the world (it is)

DOES YAMUHCA COME BACK WITH dinosaur eggs to eat? "I killed a velociraptor. And we ate it :)" "Wow Yamucha you're so cool..."

I really really reaaallly really really LIKE THIS !! I really like the sword pendant becasue it's a universal symbol for clarity and glory and in the context of warding off bad energy it's so .. potent .. like seeing through the smoke and fog and confusion and terror .. and Trunks loves swords

EVERYBODY REBLOG !