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#anyway sorry for the inactivity
fallenwhumpee · 6 months
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Why
• Masterlist •
Warnings: Guilt, mentioned past torture, blood, betrayal, self-blame.
Right Hand wasn't supposed to feel like this, they scolded to themselves as they walked towards Leader's office. Right Hand wasn't weak, and not helpless.
But they let Leader down once, and Leader was still recovering from... everything. Leader was doing their best to act like nothing happened, but Right Hand could see through their facade.
They wouldn't stand doing nothing again. Not after spending a week at Leader's bedside, waiting for them to wake up. The others were another story, though. The squad often thought Leader was invincible or unbreakable.
And that was what Leader wanted, Right Hand realised long after. To become a pillar even when they weren't there. To guide, to be a voice in Right Hand's head to be better while restraining Right Hand's little self-destructive habits.
Right Hand sighed, wishing that they could do the same for Leader. They weren't good at it, but they could try.
They could try now.
The offices were mostly empty at this late hour, save for a certain insomniac and workaholic commanding officer.
Right Hand knocked the door and opened it without waiting for an answer.
Leader quickly turned their chair, half facing Right Hand and half still glancing at the papers they were dealing with.
"Right Hand?" Leader prompted, their voice hoarse.
"You should be in bed." So blunt, so straightforward. They had never been good with words, so unlike Leader. Their approach was always simple.
Leader chuckled, their laugh turning into a light cough towards the end.
“And leave the planning to you? Or would you prefer the Captain to do it?” Leader smiled.
Right Hand and Captain's strong suit was commanding the field, and coordinating. They weren't good at planning. That was also the main reason for taking so long at rescuing Leader.
Guilt clawed Right Hand's mind, and they looked away. Leader deserved better than what they had done.
Right Hand looked back as they felt a hand cupping their chest. “None of that, I'm just teasing.”
Oh, how much they had missed this. Falling into their usual pattern, Leader reading them like an open book.
The familiarity was comforting and gave Right Hand hope that maybe things could be like before. Before Leader had sacrificed themselves to get the squat out, and before they were forced to find their footing without Leader for months.
Right Hand briefly wondered how their plan was shattered by just one mistake and how the enemy looked so ready as if they knew the plan but focused on the problem at his hand.
“It's past midnight,” Right Hand didn't let go of Leader's cold hand. Cold like death.
“That is my line,” Leader smiled. It only upset Right Hand more.
Yes, Leader would often have to drag them out of the training rooms. Leader smiled, likely thinking the same thing.
Leader stood absurdly, nearly falling. Right Hand caught them as they gasped, their all weight dead on Right Hand's arms.
Right Hand helped them to sit on the table, Leader clinging them like Right Hand was the only thing keeping them up. They leaned their head to Right Hand's shoulder, eyes distant and drained.
“Did you get your medicine today?”
Leader nodded and mumbled a weak yes.
After a long moment of rest, Leader pulled back slightly, calming their breaths.
“Stood too fast,” they murmured, more to convince themselves rather to ease Right Hand's worries. Leader stood again and leaned to Right Hand, barely able to stay straight on their own.
Sometimes it seemed like they were getting worse each day. Their hair, even though it was still clean, was damp. Their eyes were smaller, with big dark circles looking like bruises. They were slightly sweating throughout their pale skin. Their fever rose again, Right Hand thought as they wiped the sweat on Leader's flushed cheeks.
“Maybe we should get some late meal," Right Hand offered. It was accepted without any protests, making the moment strange. Usually, Leader would be the one offering, and Right Hand would deny it until they were both preparing something light for themselves in the empty cantina.
They walked to the mess hall anyway, Right Hand deciding it was too much of a work for that night. And perhaps, they didn't want Leader to be on their feet any more than neccesary, and it was closer to Leader's quarters.
As they entered the mess hall, Leader's grip on Right Hand's arm tightened, but they starightened, slowly gaining their posture. There were not many people, but a few were eating a late meal, probably just back from a patrol, and the cooks were quite busy until they could get a warm meal served.
They had peaceful ten minutes before Captain barged in and locked eyes with Leader, a creepy smile crept onto their lips.
Right Hand understood it too late, and Captain's smile grew as they shouted into the room.
"Leader, since you seem so eager to prove you're still fit to lead, how about a friendly sparring match in the training room?"
"I would prefer a more appropriate time for it," Right Hand growled, protective instincts in them rising. This was a challenge, and the decision for calling one was supposed to be made in one's right mind, not in the middle of the night with everyone tired.
They didn't even start about Leader was still recovering.
"No one asked what you would prefer," Captain snarled back.
"I will give you a second chance to think what you said," Leader pushed them aside, towering over Captain. Perhaps it was less intimidating with the muscle mass Leader lost, but they were still pretty bulky, making Captain look so small.
"I said what I said."
Leader turned to Right Hand with a short, hesitant stop before opening their mouth.
"Call everyone to the training room, please."
Right Hand took the order with a protest they buried under their heavy heart, the people in cafeteria already off to spread the word.
Right Hand hurried through the dim corridors, calling out to the members of their squad to gather in the training room. They knew the confrontation between Leader and Captain was inevitable, but the timing couldn't be worse.
Chief Medic should have tied Leader down or knocked them out until they looked like they weren't dying. They knew it had happened before. It was the only way to keep Leader down.
And it was a cheap play by Captain. To challenge Leader's authority when they were clearly at a disadvantage felt like a betrayal of their shared history. They had faced so many things together, trusted each other with their lives, and now Captain was too eager to undermine all of that.
The training room buzzed as the squad members gathered, some still sleepy but snapping as they saw what was going on.
Right Hand stood at the front, their heart pounding as Leader and Captain faced each other in the centre of the room.
Leader's voice still carried a commanding presence, but Right Hand knew better than assuming Leader was fine. "You think challenging me in this state is a testament to your strength, Captain? It only proves that you're willing to challenge authority only when it's weak."
Captain sneered, circling Leader, their eyes gleaming with arrogance. "Authority that can't defend itself isn't worth following. I'll prove I'm the stronger leader, and those who choose to follow me will know the difference."
Right Hand looked away as they began to circle. Seeing Leader's guard was enough to know their tactic.
Right shoulder exposed, weight resting slightly more towards the right foot. Yes, that would give Leader the strength they needed to use their good - left - arm, but it also left the wide whip wound on their right side open. The fight was going to be violent.
Right Hand scolded themselves. They had to watch this.
With a shaky breath, they eyed the audience made of a hundred professional mercenaries, staff, and guests, only brought together by Leader, for the last time before turning to the fight.
It was strange to know that not all of them came from the same place but sticked together for training or safer missions. People were even brought to take care of them in some ways, just because Leader wanted a systematic and more effective way if dealing with things. None of them could've dreamt of such stuns they pulled in missions alone.
Captain made the first move, lunging at Leader with a swift punch. Leader's countered it with their good arm, exposing their right side again.
But Leader had a plan. Right Hand could see it in the determined glint in their eyes. They baited Captain to believe they had the upper hand. Captain could press their advantage as much as they wanted, but Leader was waiting for something.
Captain continued to press the attack, taking advantage of Leader's exposed right side. The crowd watched in silence, and Right Hand couldn't hide the concern from their face.
Right Hand fought with their emptions— they wanted to stop this fight, to protect Leader, but they knew it would only damage Leader more. Damage Leader's authority, too, a smaller concern.
Captain, getting angrier with each hit not gaining the impact they wanted, started to attack like a mindless beast, showing everyone how unfit they actually are.
Leader suddenly shifted, their injured right side taking another hit. It seemed as though Captain was gaining the upper hand. Right Hand's heart staggered.
But Leader didn't stop. They braced hits after hits, finding rare opportunities to get solid blows to Captain's chest but failing to deliver a powerful one. Captain was not staying at their place, aiming perfectly but not hitting quite.
Leader was turning subtly to soften the impact, pissing Captain off.
Just as Right Hand realised that, Leader caught Captain's arm, and before they could blink, Captain was being launched over Leader's shoulder with a loud thud accompanied by a cracking sound.
The room fell silent as Leader stood over Captain, triumphant.
"Go now, with anyone who wishes to follow you." Leader growled, "I don't want the blood of my own on my hand today. But the next time, there will be only your corpse to be kicked out."
Captain, defeated and humiliated, picked themselves up and looked at the squad as they left left the room, a few following them.
"To your rooms now, if anyone else wants to challenge, they can try me," Right Hand shouted. People left as Leader stood still, the tension in the room seemed to dissolve.
But the calm was short-lived. After everyone left, Leader's gasps for breath became audible, and they faltered, nearly collapsing.
Right Hand rushed to their side, helping them down. They froze at the wince it earned, Leader smiling weakly to the reaction.
"Blood loss may be making me say that, but I actually need to go to infirmary this time," Leader mumbled without changing their expression, chuckling lightly. They both knew Right Hand was seconds away from freaking out.
-•-
Only when they arrived at the infirmary did the full extent of the betrayal become apparent. Chief Medic's departure must have been a calculated move, Right Hand thought, leaving Leader alone once again.
Right Hand's hands shook as they carrief Leader's weakened form. Panic clawed at them, but Leader was quick to guide them with calling Medic, who was supposed to be there in the absence of their CMO.
"Easy." Leader tried to soften Right Hand's nerves. "I've faced worse."
Right Hand's jaw clenched, their fingers curling into fist at their side while Leader kept holding their other hand.
Medic, the less experienced officer came soon, the first thing they did being cutting Leader's blood-soaked shirt and bandages, revealing torn stitches. They worked carefully, their hands shaking slightly as they cleaned the wound. Right Hand watched every move, their guard still up.
Medic finished restitching the wound, Right Hand watching their every move.
"Could I ask something?" Medic's voice came, meek.
"Go on," Leader hissed as Medic cut the first torn stitch.
"What was the first treatment after you got injured? This... doesn't look like it had been treated well from the beginning. Did you observe the initial treatment?"
Right Hand frowned at the question. They had been there for Leader since the rescue, but their knowledge about medical procedures was limited.
"I was with Leader after their rescue, but I'm not a medic. I don't know much about treatments," Right Hand admitted, their worry increasing. "Why? Is something wrong with the way they were treated?"
Medic carefully avoided eye contact with Right Hand and continued, "The stitches, they were sloppily done. It's a miracle they held up during the fight. I would like to talk with who was responsible, though. I dont want to accuse anyone, especially now."
"Chief Medic left with that traitor," Right Hand said sharply to shut Medic up. "Now you can go. You've done enough."
The kid seemed to understand the unspoken message and nodded before quietly leaving the infirmary, leaving Leader and Right Hand alone in the sterile silence.
Right Hand dressed the wound carefully, checking the ingredients of IV before finally collapsing to Leader's bedside.
"They were doing their best, Right Hand. Not everyone will try to take me down," Leader whispered.
"I- I will apologise to them later."
"Good. Just don't scare people like that again. We will hunt for spies later, though. I don't want this to happen again, but I don't think I can handle more action tonight."
Right Hand drew a sharp breath. "I'll do it. But you will rest."
Leader's lips curved into a sad smile. "You've barely slept in last few days."
"I'll be fine," Right Hand's voice was almost a whisper, their eyes refusing to leave Leader's face. "Don't want to be alone now," they admitted.
Leader stayed silent, just squeezing their hand lightly. Perhaps they understood that Right Hand didn't want to leave Leader alone because the mere thought was enough to spiral their thoughts down with worry. And maybe, maybe Leader didn't want to be alone too.
They started to talk about everything and nothing, wishing to distract Leader from the pain until the painkillers kicked in.
Minutes passed, and the effects of the medicine began. Leader's breathing steadied, and a calmness settled over the room. But then, tears welled up in Leader's eyes, their expression pained but not crying.
"I don't understand. Just— just why? Was... was I not enough?"
With a little hesitation, they moved closer, sinking to their knees beside the bed. They reached out, gently running a hand through Leader's hair.
"Neither do I, but this is not your fault."
Leader's fingers trembled as they tried to stop Right Hand's hand. "I should have seen it coming."
That could be translated to I didn't deserve this kindness too easily, Right Hand realised.
Right Hand knew the feeling well, and they had overcame it with Leader repeating the opposite like parrot in the littlest opportunity. Right Hand should've realised Leader felt this way, since it seemed like Leader was just incapable of taking their own advice in every matter.
Right Hand leaned in, their arms wrapping around Leader in a comforting embrace. "You're the strongest person I know, Leader. This isn't about you. It's about them being arrogant and selfish. Not everyone can hold this many people together."
Leader's head rested against Right Hand's shoulder, their silent tears soaking into the fabric of Right Hand's uniform. "It will be alright. This could've turned out a lot different."
"Not very comforting," Leader chuckled weakly.
"It will sound better in the morning," they returned. "Now sleep. I'll stay here."
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tojjist · 2 months
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NANAMI is 100% a spanker.
He loves your ass. He could just stare at you for hours on end, no matter what you’re wearing at the time. Be it a pencil skirt, yoga pants, sport shorts or a dress. He could just stand there and watch you move, glutes moving up and down, hips swaying. It makes him swoon.
And while he could stand and stare, he’d much rather feel it up against his palm. He’d slap your buttocks once he walks past you, soft and teasing. Depending on your response the situation elevates. 
More times than not you find yourself sprawled out on his lap, his hands colliding with the skin multiple times over until he can feel it get warmer. His ears are immune to your cries,gasping at the force that comes with the loud clapping. Sometimes he’d stop to tease your clit gently, fingertips rubbing the bundle of nerves to hear a soft moan from you or have you tighten your shaking thighs over his palm. But it’s not too long before his hand is swinging in the air and against your reddened ass.
At some other occasions, he finds himself subconsciously feeling your ass in the morning. His large hands explore the soft flesh, squishing it tightly in his palm and giving it light slaps every so often.
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GOJO, on the other hand, is a hair puller.
Honestly, there is no specific reason that he likes to pull your hair so much. Mostly he just likes the feeling of your hair filling into his fist, no matter the length of it, locks running between his fingers. It's an oddly satisfying to him .
He’s very random with it, too. Satoru would approach you while doing the dishes, one second his arms are wrapped lovingly around your waist, and the next his hand fists as much as it can of your hair and tugs at it “A-a- ah- Satoru– let go, seriously,” You’d grumble, face scrunched at the suddenness of it. “Mm, Gotta ask nicely, baby,” his hand continues to grab your hair tightly. Judging by the amused smirk on his face, he’s just messing around. Must get a kick out of it.
It’s another reason he loves seeing you on your knees before him. Your mouth consumes so much of his length, hands pumping whatever your mouth couldn’t fit in. All Satoru has to do is sit back, feel good, and pull at your hair. It’s easy control. And Satoru loves this control, as if steering your head however he likes. Not that your skilled mouth needs direction. 
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schmellows · 3 months
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i started playing Love and Deepspace --
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kikipancakes · 13 days
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It's fiiiiiiiine. he'll be fiiiiiiiiiiine
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bloodiedstar · 1 month
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[A home you thought you couldn't return to]
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dian-mian · 7 months
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Art raffle 3rd place winner prize for @ivycorp , who requested for Earthspark Megatron laughing his ass off from whatever Dorothy said ehe
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imagine your fave at work, not having time to use the restrooms all day because every time they try to escuse themselves, there's always something new they have to take care of (or maybe they're just too distracted to take a break).
they're well aware of their desperation, forcing it to the back of their mind so they can help their coworkers/boss/clients/customers (depending on what job they have) with whatever it is.
this cycle goes on for hours, their absentminded squirming getting increasingly harder to keep under control.
it's in the middle of one of these tasks that they suddenly realize they have to go, now. they stutter out an apology to whoever they're talking to (probably leaking a few times) and, knowing they won't make it, at least try to find somewhere more private before they lose control.
they start wetting full force the moment they get to an empty room, slamming the door shut as they slump against it in relief. their legs give in and they sink to their knees, not caring about the rapidly expanding puddle beneath them. all they can think about is how good it feels to let go.
the stream eventually stops and they realize what they've done, their face burning with shame and tears welling up in their eyes.
before they can fully panic or think of how to clean themselves off, a knock on the door snaps them out of their thoughts.
"hey, are you there?" the other person asks. "we need your help with something,"
"i-i'll be there in a moment," they reply, trying to act casual.
great. how were they going to get out of this?
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bpdamn · 2 months
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hi they have released me back into the wild
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rookflower · 8 months
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squirrelflight my friend squirrelflight
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bloodyrawsweet · 5 months
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thinking about Him <3
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broadwaytwitter · 1 month
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newsies twitter 5/?
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cha1cedony · 6 months
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Just thinking about how Frank’s watch that Grant got from Darryl has a little mark etched into its face of the when the dads were supposed to kill Grant and eat his skin 😀👍 Darryl scratched the time into the watch when they jumped off the bus in For Knights.
And now that time is forever on Grant’s wrist: a reminder of how he was supposed to die, how he cheated death, how he was forced to cheat death by killing something else. The watch has been broken for years. Its hands are frozen, and I wonder if that reminds him of Frank’s death or of his own… his childhood that died in that moment. He’s forever that scared little 12 year old blindly swinging an axe too big for his body and hoping to (praying not to) kill something.
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hey guys sorry i haven’t been active lately WHOOPS (trips and images of bentho fall out of my pocket) wow that was crazy . who would draw a side character so much haha. hahah
also bonus deepseaenergy doodle because i’m insane
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abellarts · 1 year
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The Fly
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[ID: A digital drawing of Jonathan Sims from the Magnus Archives. Jon is a thin British-Indian man with deep brown skin, short wavy brown hair with stripes of grey, a moustache, a mole on the right side of his mouth, and another one on the right side of his right eye. He wears thin golden rectangular glasses with chain, a messy white dress shirt, a loose red tie, and a sweater vest with a yellow and purple argyle pattern. The viewpoint is from a lower angle, looking up at Jon from his desk, as he looks down with a concerned expression on two piece of paper which he holds in his hand. His lips are parted as if he is speaking, his his brow furrowed in concentration, his eyes with an unnatural glow. His other hand pulls down his glasses to nearer to the bottom of his nose. A small microphone sits in the corner. Behind him is a stack of loose leaf papers and files. Haphazardly placed like a tower. Even further behind him are blurry red lines leading to the ceiling, connected together like a web. Looking down on Jon and connected to the web, is an eye. Or rather the impression of an eye created from the silhouette of a hanging lampshade. A sinister red light colours Jon from the bottom, a yellow light outlines Jon from the top, both contrasting with dark green shadows.
/End ID]
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lionbearfox · 2 months
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assorted nahida doodles in varying levels of complete
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hppjmxrgosg · 5 months
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