#GIVE MIRI BACK TO HIM

[youandthemountains]

still thinking of that story from yesterday and how Spock reacts to potential loss - it's the opposite of what you'd expect, he grips tighter, he holds on. He fights it, he argues it, he verbally eviscerates it, he clutches it, he'll face it head on & he'll break his rules for it.

thinking of him clutching McCoy's shoulder when he finds out he's dying in FTWIHAIHTTS, or him diving into his head to find him in Return of the Archons and physically punching a guard afterwards, believing McCoy to be lost. Him gathering McCoy's hands together and resting with them in Miri. There's his mutiny for Pike, there's him asking McCoy to wish him luck, there's him erasing kirk's memory in requiem for methuselah. Beta canon has him arguing McCoy back into joining them, and like this story - logically destroying any idea McCoy floats that could lead him away. Of course there's 'we go together or not at all'. When Spock realizes he's going to die, he throws his Self into McCoy's, and uses his body to say goodbye to Kirk - reaching out again and again. His response to death is to take it seriously, to fear and plan for it and strategize around it and try to stop it.

On the other hand, also surprisingly, McCoy's response to the fear of loss is to let go. I always thought it was interesting that in the Autobiography of Mr. Spock, Spock spells out only two of the reactions to his deciding to go through with kohlinar - his mother's & McCoy's.

Neither are happy with the decision but give him their blessings in a manner of speaking. McCoy is silent as Spock is bombarded with messages trying to convince him not to, and then the day before Spock leaves, McCoy sends a message saying only, "Damn stupid cockamamie idea. I hope you know what you're doing."

Of course there's also the story with his father - maybe the first case of this that leads him to doing it all his life. In the face of death and against his own wishes and desires, letting go. For whatever led to the disintegration of his family - he famously lets go, escapes to space. In his first episode, he lets go of old love and old selves. With Spock - he lets him walk away, in The Immunity Syndrome, for kohlinar, begs him to leave him in All Our Yesterdays. When he thinks he's incurable, is ready to let go of the Enterprise. I don't remember what book it's from anymore but there's a quote where the ship is crashing and Spock looks up and is surprised to see McCoy is smiling at him, content in the knowledge that he's dying by his side. In the book Sarek, Spock calls McCoy to treat his mother and McCoy gently tells him the Vulcan doctors are correct, her illness is terminal, and Spock realizes he had called McCoy because he believed he'd miraculously cure her. McCoy talks him through the end of life things, including the illogical feelings and wishes that will come up.

His response to death is also to take it seriously - by fighting it as best you can but when it's time, burning out everything from yourself but what you loved and want to carry forward.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for miri-tiazan behind the cut; “the one where omegaverse fucks up Red Hood’s life”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Dick’s a liar. The best liar Jason’s ever met. He smiles like he’s honest and lies like he doesn’t even want to, even though he wants to. Dick is Batman’s first and best protegee, his first and best everything, the first Robin, the one Batman’s not Batman without, the one Batman–the one Bruce–Dick is Nightwing, and half the damn community would burn down half the damn world on his say-so on the assumption he had a good reason for asking them to, and then he’d actually have a good reason for asking them to. 

And Jason wore his colors for a while, but didn't get to keep them.

Dick’s a liar, he reminds himself, burying his face in as tight against the other’s shoulder as it can fit. Dick’s a liar, Dick’s a liar, DIck’s a fucking liar, Dick’s a–a– 

Dick isn’t smiling right now. 

Jason trembles all the way up his fucking spine and digs his fingers into Dick’s body, Nightwing’s armor, Nightwing’s colors– 

He’ll never wear those. Wouldn’t even if–even if– 

“Jason,” Dick says, rough and ragged, and digs his fingers into Jason’s mating gland, because he’s a fucking liar whether he’s smiling or not, whether he’s Nightwing or not, whether–whether–

Jason needs to leave. He needs to leave. Bruce is coming. Batman is coming, and Jason needs to leave. 

But Dick’s still lying to him, just like he asked. Dick’s still . . . 

“Please,” Jason chokes, and it’s got to be at least the third or fourth time he’s said it to him tonight, and he doesn’t even remember the last time he said it to anyone before him. He–it doesn’t–he wants to shove his rasping, itching, stifling jeans down and roll over for him, present for him like he’s never even fucking thought about doing for anyone else, wants Dick to just pin him down and take him, fuck him and knot him, knot him and–and breed him, and he doesn’t even give a fuck if he gets off for it himself, he just wants Dick to, wants Dick to want to, to just wreck him, fucking ruin him– 

Dick turns his face into the side of his and catches the back of his hair to tug his head back, pull him back just enough that Jason can see he still isn’t smiling, and then–

And then Dick kisses him, because he’s the fucking worst. 

And because it’s Dick, so of course the bastard’s going to do the thing that’ll actually ruin him. Of fucking course he is. 

And because Jason’s Jason–because Jason’s a fucking idiot who really had thought Robin was magic, once, who even now thinks it was maybe just Dick that was, who really had thought he’d had a pack for good that time, who really had thought that Batman would always come for him, that Bruce would always come for him–he melts into that kiss as easy and as stupid as he’s ever been in his life, like that’s something that could ever be fucking easy. 

Dick doesn’t even have the fucking mercy to make it rough or demanding; it’s just soft and sure and certain. Nothing harsh, nothing messy; just something already decided, something that Dick had already decided, a course of action Nightwing had already committed to and was going to see through one way or the other, no matter who ended up bleeding for it. 

Jason hates him, and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for him, and he wants to put a bullet in his fucking heart. 

One of their hearts, at least.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Buddy Daddies x Delinquent Teen Reader (2)

“Did you eat breakfast today?”

“....”

“(Y/n)?”

“He asked you a question, (Y/n).”

“I heard.”

“Answer. Him.”

“...”

“(Y/n)...did you eat?”

“...”

Kazuki sighed as Rei easily wrestled the controller out of your hands to toss you over his shoulder

Not even bothered by your violent struggles he took you to the room designated as your punishment room

Where Kazuki or Rei would hold you tight until you let them hold you peacefully 

Training you to obey them in the form of cuddles like a chicken

So in the dark room, your wriggling and cursing slowed as Rei’s hold held firm

But even when you stopped struggling and leaned back into his chest 

He didn’t release you 

Instead, he carried you along with him as he went into the tub

No doubt to sleep 

With the darkened surroundings, Rei’s firm hold, and the warmth of his arms you reluctantly joined 

“Where’s (Y/n) and Papa Rei?”

“Ah, they’re napping right now.”

“Oooh I want to–”

“Ah ah! Didn’t you say you wanted to make (Y/n) their favorite lunch?”

“OH Yeah!”

“Alright then let’s get to work!”

When you awake so is Rei, hold unrelenting and forcing you to gently notify him

“Better?”

“Hm.”

“Are you going to behave?”

“Yes.”

“....” 

He didn’t believe you but Kazuki told him he had to be gentle

Apparently, the perfect life they were giving you wasn’t a welcome change

He’d prefer to lock you tight and show you the joys of a single room 

Like he used to know

Then they could work on building you out of that

But Kazuki already thought his old lifestyle was problematic and he didn’t need that rubbing off on Miri now

“The next time you misbehave you won’t be playing Kart for a month.”

You sucked your teeth but nodded your head

“Ah, you two are back!”

“(Y/n)! Look what I made for you! All by myself!”

“Miri!”

“Hehehe we made it for you! See, see? Look, look!”

“Uh, thanks, Miri.”

“(Y/n) has something to say.”

“....No.”

“Excuse me? What’s this about?”

You wanted to punch that smile off his face

“...The answer to the question you asked. It's no.”

“Well, then you better eat up the delicious meal me and Miri made for you!” 

He rubs the top of your head as you sit at the table 

Not oblivious to the warning look Rei is giving you as Miri offers to feed you 

You accept with clenched fists 

How you wish you could get out of here

[acutemushroom]

I just realized something about Rei and his path toward fatherhood.

At the beginning of the shows, he spontaneously adopts a stray kitten, and while he does buy a lot of things for it, it is clear from Kazuki's reaction and his own laissez-faire attitude that he wouldn't properly care for it. It ends up with Kazuki returning the kitty to the street.

But with Miri, it's the inverse attitude. It's Kazuki who spontaneously adopts her. And, while they're both on the "give her back to her mom" boat at first, Rei was more enthused about it. In the end, after a whole arc, Kazuki is the one doubting they'd be able to care for their little girl and Rei convincing him. Proving that he will run the house with him and do chores and such. All so they can keep raising their daughter.

The arc went full circle.

[leoruby-draws]

Decided to dump a bunch of drawings, mostly just random characters I've drawn. Most of these are the young heroes the batkids hang out with, like with Lorena and Cass up in the left corner. Wonder what their talking about, maybe roast Jason and Koryak off-screen perhaps.

Couple of doodles of Carrie as a sweetie-pie and then in her warbird form, I like to think she got some help with this and is able to control it to an extent (she mostly transforms when super angry). Random doodle of Jessica Cruz, I've said this before but she used to be my favorite before I got into Jason Todd. Sorry Jess lmao!

Up in the right corner is Jenni excitedly telling Cass about the Legion in the far future, its her dream to join them. I guess they started out much younger, also I made Imra resemble her cartoon design, loved how alien but pretty she was. Bottom corner is Danny acting like a spy and exchanging the latest titans gossip to Jason. They were friends in canon, so they' be friends in my au. I thought about making Danny join the kiddie outlaws but I kinda like the thought of him being more of an ally to all the kid hero teams.

Some drawing of Steph and friends, her and Kara hang out all the time, we also see Kara with her cat Streaky. Also there's Steph meeting Prism aka Audrey Spears, I don't think she'll join Steph's team fully but she'll probably be like an auxiliary member of sorts.

There's other members of Steph's team Eliza Harmon, Bobby Barnes and Miri Raim. Look at Miri bothering poor Carol Ferris, she just loves her mentor a lot, Carol just want's some peace and quiet lol.

Also I already posted the Cyclone and Stargirl drawings in other posts while back, just putting the full drawing her.

More doodles, there's Tefe and her plant friend 'playing' with Eddie, Jason doesn't approve lol. Below is Lori Zechlin showing off to Owen Mercer and Jack Moore, seems like the 2 oldest members like to indulge Lori, the baby of the team, in her antics.

Top right corner are 3 random heroes being friendly, Courtney Mason, Miguel Devante and Anita Fite. Miguel Devante is also known as Vulcan, a suuuuper obscure hero who's also a legacy character of Son of Vulcan. He's have very few appearances, I thought his mini was ok I did like his costume a bit even if it was kinda over-designed. Hope DC gives this character a chance someday.

Also check out the Batkids playing some card games, looks like Jason's a bit of a sore loser (also Steph did cheat, she's loves causing trouble.)

Back to Miguel, part of his backstory involves the White Martians, its part of his mission to fight against him. This gives me the idea to have Miguel be an ally or auxiliary member to Steph's team actually. The reason is to create comedic drama with M'gann, who's also on the team, try to make sure Miguel never finds out that she's actually a white martian herself. A pretty funny scenario I think.

Anyways, hope you liked all that.

[ttheggrimrreaper]

12 days of Christmas, Day 5

Five Golden Rings

Married, Aged up Reo Mikage x NB!reader

Extra: Miri Mikage (Adopted or biological daughter, depends on what the reader chooses)

"Miri my love.... Did you take Daddy's rings?" Reo spoke softly, trying to be silly with the girl that sat in his lap, but you could hear the stress in his voice.

Reos five golden rings. He had five, and only five. Those meant a lot to him, resembling things that happened in his life that he truly cared about. You both were seated on the couch, Miri sitting in his lap as he tried to coax her into telling him if she took his rings.

"nuh uh!!" She giggled, clapping her hands before hugging him. Reo looked over to you with a strained smile and wide eyes as he gently patted her head with a shaky hand.

"Miri honey, we really need those rings..." You spoke softly, leaning forward to rest a hand on your daughter's shoulder. She looked at you and just smiled.

"If you can give Daddy his rings back, we will all go out for ice cream!" Reo had a habit of promising a reward, for confessing to a lie. Not the best idea, but he was desperate right now.Miri pulled away from Reo and looked up to him with excited eyes.

"Really?!" She squealed when Reo shook his head rapidly, eyes filling with hope. "Mmmmm.. I don't know where I put them." She shrugged, and you saw the terror in Reos eyes. "oh!! I think I know!! Follow me!" Miri quickly crawled out of Reos lap and ran off. Reo wasted no time in sprinting after her.

She ran to the closet bathroom, it was a large house., occasionally both you and Miri would get lost. "In here!!!" She grabbed her shampoo bottle and was about to pull the cap off and dump it all out. Reo beat her to it. Snatched the stupid pink bubble gum shampoo bottle and dumped it in his free hand. Once emptied, he found... Nothing.

"Just add that to the shopping list...." You murmered as you looked through the cabinets, rummaging through everything searching for any hint of a golden ring.

"daddy!! You're so silly!! It's in the blue one!!" Miri giggled, grabbing the blue bottle that was right behind the pink one. Her conditioner. She shakily dumped the contents of it into Reos sticky hands, as he carefully shifted through the paste he sighed once he felt the cold metal.

"there it is..." He stood and went to the sink to wash away any of the blue mess that was still on his hands. Once done he dried off the ring and put it on his pinky finger.

His promise ring. When you and Reo had first gone out you mentioned promise rings as a joke... Only to find that Reo had taken it seriously and purchased two gold rings... Because apparently rich people can't get the cheap versions of stuff. You had your promise ring on a necklace, it was easier to keep track of that way. In fact, you were wearing that necklace right now.

"yay!!! Now let's go find the others!" Miri cheered as she grabbed your hand and dragged you along, more like you let her drag you but still. Reo following hot on your trail. Then you entered the kitchen. "In the knife drawer!"

"sorry what!?" Reo momentarily forgot about the rings, what was his FIVE year old daughter doing with big knives!? You only kept the big ones in the knife drawer, and that drawer wasn't even a drawer. It was a small box on a shelf. So this 'knife drawer' that your daughter was getting into was concerning. Although, your and Reos nerves were quickly calmed when she pointed to the utensil drawer. You kept some butter knives there so she must have gotten confused. Reo was quick to get back in the game, Miri could just barely see over the drawer. Reo shuffled through the utensil drawer until he held up another small ring.

"...why?" We're his only words. The bathroom one made sense, she wanted to hide it. But in the utensil drawer? What could have possibly made her hide this one here?

"I wanted some toat with butter! But I couldn't get the knife to spend the butter!"

"how did you toast the toast!?" You gasped out, the toaster wasn't even out on the counter.

"from the snack drawer...What do you mean toast the toast?" She looked shocked. And now it made sense. To her, all bread was toast, and in her attempt to reach a butter knife she left the ring.

"Miri.. if we find the other three rings we will get you ice cream and toast with butter!" Miri looked amazed with Reos offer. Toast and Ice cream!? Best day ever for little girl. She immediately ran off once more, Reo dropped the other two rings in your hand as he followed.

"Check in our room, specifically under our bed." He said before he left. Miri liked to hide under there, so there was a chance she took one of the rings with her. You nodded, looking at the two rings you had. The promise ring, and the anniversary ring... He had got you both matching rings with each other's names on them. Your ring had his name, and his had yours. You looked down at the engraving. As stressful as this situation was... Seeing the engraving made your heart warm. Your anniversary ring was also on the same necklace as your promise ring. You don't know what you would do if you lost them... Well, actually you did. The same thing Reo was doing right now.

Kneel down with your phone in your hand as you reach under the bed, flashlight on the other rings on his night table. "Come on now.. where are you." You mumbled to yourself. Finally after moving past forgotten clothing, you felt cold metal, the gold glinting in the light. This ring was one you got for him! You smiled at the memory. It had a singular soccer ball engraved on the inside of it, and you thought he would love it, and he did. That's three rings down.

Standing up and setting the ring with the other on the night table. Three rings., out of five. Hopefully he could find the other two.

"hey.... I put Miri to bed. Promised her toast and butter for breakfast, and ice cream for lunch.." Reo said as he walked in, you sat down on the bed. He sounded defeated. "Found another ring. The one you and Miri picked out for my birthday." He sat down next to you, leaning on you.

"then we're just missing one more! Which one is it?"

"Engagement ring,,," he took your hand, the one with your own engagement ring on it. You frowned,,. The one he deemed to be most important. He sighed, laying back. You followed, grabbing a pillow to put under your head.

"what... What is that?" You mumbled to yourself as you felt something round between your head and the pillow. Lifting your head, Reo still pouting as he looked to the ceiling. Looked down you saw the feint out line of a ring. Between the pillow sheet! "Reo!" You yelled as you fished it out, holding it up. At first he barely responded. Just side eyeing you, but then sat up and snatched the ring from you. He wasted no time in putting it on.

"and that's five." He hummed as he hugged you. The stress from today's adventures forgotten. "We gotta teach Miri not to steal however."

"says the one rewarding her with ice cream when she tells you she stole" you snapped back, Reo chuckled and pressed a kiss to your temple.

"yeah yeah. Thanks for the help Y/n"

"If it's for you, I would do anything to help." You smiled, the snake starting to build up against the window causing a white glow to the floor just below it. It was a stressful day, but in the end, it just reminded you that Reo really did love you.

Day 4 Day 6

Masterlist

[joonipertree]

You'd count the scars littered on your boyfriend's body sometimes, not intentionally. It mostly happened when he got hurt and you'd have to clean him up. Luckily, it never got to a point where he needed you to handle a bullet wound since he hardly ever got to that point. They were normally just scraps, cuts and bruises that would have been neglected by him if you weren't so adamant on patching him up. Rei never felt the need, while you felt the need to take care of him.

But, back to the main point...which was that you had a strange habit of counting his scars as if it would help prevent new ones forming. Sometimes, you'd notice a new one and it would make you pout, adding it to the collection in your head, safely stored away.

You're certain Rei didn't know, even when he stared at you while you worked on bandaging up his banged up arm. He knew better to speak while you silently fumed, very clearly angry that your beloved boyfriend got himself injured again for the nth time.

".....Miri drew something the other day---"

The look you gave him was so scathing, he instantly stopped talking. A shiver ran down his spine, his fear only broken by his best friend snickering at his clear struggle.

You looked over your shoulder at the sound and it instantly made Kazuki shut the fuck up, turning a little white at your very clear glare. Only after a second did you speak...

"Do you need to be cleaned up too?"

"Oh....no...I handled that on my own."

"Good."

The look that Kazuki gave Rei could only be described as 'Good luck, brother' before he slowly backed away to meal prep for his daughter's school lunch.

Rei's intense gaze stayed on you, following your every movement and taking in every little detail. When the two of you had met years ago, it had left you in a flustered mess. You couldn't tell if there was any emotion behind his eyes, if you were doing something wrong or if he even cared about you. Years later, the softness in his eyes was easy enough to discern or the way his hands would grasp at your waist would give away his feelings for you.

A sigh left your lips, the wrinkles between your furrowed eyebrows called Rei to soothe them over but he sat still, doing his best not to set you off. You noticed right away that the man was clearly very talented at being a statue, probably from the fact that he hated moving in the first place.

"You got a new scar here." You pointed at one on his index finger, something you remember taking care of. It was nothing more than something from a knife fight but it clearly decided to stay.

"Oh." He looked down at it, frowning but not bothered.

"You didn't notice did you?"

"No?"

You let out another sigh before leaning in to kiss it, moving away to pack up the first aid kit that just so happened to have a constant use in that household.

"....does it bother you?"

Rei's question made you pause, mouth heavy with words you didn't know how to explain.

"Are they unsightly?"

This made you jump into action almost immediately, dropping everything you were doing to cradle his face in your palms. Rei leaned against them, feeling skin that was much softer than his. He never knew the feeling of a gentle touch before you, always melting into them like there was nothing you could ever possibly do that could hurt him.

"No. Never. They're not unsightly at all." You stressed your words, brushing his hair back a couple of times, feeling some blood dried on them but being pretty certain it wasn't his. "Not going to lie, they're kind of really hot if anything. That's....it's not that they're there that bothers me."

Rei's languid eyes kept their focus on you, head fully tilted to lay on your palm not unlike how a puppy would.

"It just...scares me sometimes how you don't seem to care about your physical wellbeing and that, one day it'll be so bad that even I wouldn't be able to fix it. I can't just....lose you. And every scar I see is a scar that could've cost you your life."

The silence that followed was loud, and you just broke eye contact with him so that it didn't feel so heavy in your chest.

Before you could walk away, run away from the tension you caused, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close as if he knew your intention.

With his head against your chest, you could only hear a muffled voice as he spoke, "I only ever wrapped myself up, ever since I was a kid. My father said it was for resilience, said it would teach me to get hurt less or to just bare it. At some point, I believed him. Now...I don't wanna do it by myself, I like it when you do it."

Rei looked up at you with a shimmer in his eyes, "and that scares me." He whispered.

You stared at him for a second too long before sighing, pinching his nose as if that would serve as punishment and he just wrinkled his face in the process.

"You're just being a human, and there will never ever be anything wrong with that." You whispered to him before planting a firm kiss on his forehead.

"Let's wash your hair then, it has blood in it."

"It does?"

Rei noticed the patterns that made you you. Whether it was the tapping of your feet, the humming of a song he's sure you made him listen to or the way your eyes skimmed his body, landing distinctly on the scars that were littered everywhere. There was never any disgust in them, it just seemed the two of you were alike. Like how Rei would count the freckles on your body, memorise the notes of your laughter into his head and sometimes keep track of the kisses you peppered him with in the early mornings (there were a lot but each one was precious to him).

Sometimes, he kissed the same way that you did, one after the other on the vast expanses of your skin in the late night darkness. It was a way for him to try and quantify what he felt for you but it never seemed enough.

There were times when his eyes would search for injury on you, or his ears would press against your chest to make sure your heart was beating (it quickened at times, but during the late nights it would slow long enough for your breathing to slow with it). Sometimes, he'd feel the guilt of making you worry and other times, he'd revel in being taken care of.

Was it weakness? Was it his doom?

'No,' he could hear you whisper in his head like you did all those nights ago, 'it's just being human, my love.'

[sohnric]

BIGGER BOYS AND STOLEN SWEETHEARTS — K. SUNWOO

pairing: kim sunwoo x fem! reader

genre: fluff. platonic but also not really 👀 jealous sunwoo that is also very delusionally in love with the reader. sunwoo plays the electric guitar but also he's kind of shit so yn has to help him

word count: 1.8k

warnings: swearing, jealousy, the reader is basically half naked and sunwoo ogles a bit

a/n: this fic is my way of battling writer's block. uni is kicking my ass but also i thought of this in the train omw home so i guess its also good for something. this is very much inspired by sunwoo wanting to learn how to play electric guitar, me remembering i own one, and also miri @/satoruly associating bigger boys and stolen sweethearts with me and making me forever insane because of it. also reblog and comment pls its so quiet here its depressing.

once again thank u so much @csenke for beta reading this fiesty baby and thank u @from-izzy for helping me with the flirty bits i owe you my life.

“You have to leave by 5, because I’m hanging out with Mark later,” you call for him as you enter the room, eyes catching a glimpse of Sunwoo sitting on your bed, an electric guitar in his hand. The boy furrows his brows at your words, a bitter taste on his tongue making him roll his eyes as he focuses his attention on the instrument in his lap, fingers aimlessly playing with the strings.

“Okay, alright,” he hisses, clicking his tongue. If you notice anything odd about his behavior, you don’t mention it to him– and if he was self-aware enough to recognise the acid aftertaste your words leave in his mouth for what it really was, he’d be even glad for your sudden blindness to his infatuation with you.

“We’re going to the new bistro that opened downtown,” you hum, as if to only fuel the boy’s frustration further. If all you wanted to do was talk about the guy, why did you invite Sunwoo over in the first place? This was starting to feel like a trap.

“I told you about that place,” he huffs.

“Thank you for the recommendation,” you smile at him ironically, and when your eyes finally meet, Sunwoo recognises the playful glint in your eye– you’re 100% aware of the tension in the air, enjoying the way you have the boy completely under your spell, ready to be torn into pieces. It’s that look you have on your face every time a guy hits on you– the one that mirrors victory, the slightest kick it gives your self-esteem making you grin to yourself as you twirl your hair on your finger and satisfy the man with the slightest touch on his arm. You play into it– you always do– but you never quite let anyone sweep you off your feet completely.

“I thought we would check it out together,” Sunwoo says, fingers plucking at the E string of the guitar, making a dull sound resonate through your room as the background to your conversation.

“We can do that later,” you say, shrugging, “I’ll give you all the recommendations.”

“Traitor,” Sunwoo hisses, glaring at you with a tinge of hurt behind his orbs.

“Don’t be so butthurt.”

“Don’t be so merciless, then,” the boy counters, averting his gaze from yours. “Is he picking you up? I bet he doesn’t even have a car.”

“That’s an unusual way to express jealousy, considering you don’t even have a car, Sunwoo,” you grimace, chuckling at the emotional outburst of your friend. “Besides, his dad owns a car bazaar. I think the possibilities of him not owning a car are quite close to zero.”

Sunwoo stays quiet at that, the call-out making red splotches appear on his cheeks from shame. His eyes quickly move to the guitar again, hypnotizing it with his gaze, fingers clamming at the strings. 

Do you like torturing him? Is this what it’s all about? Just a few days ago, he thought he had it all– sneaking his hand into the back pocket of your jeans as he was dropping you off, receiving a ruffle to his hair after you pulled away from his hug, sending a flying kiss to him as you disappeared behind the front door. Today, all you’re talking about is Mark, Mark’s car, Mark’s family, Mark’s school, Mark’s fucking hairstyle, and all Sunwoo can do is either rip out all of his hair, or fantasize about ripping out Mark Lee’s instead– strand by strand, slowly, mercilessly.

“Whatever,” he comments, shaking his head at you. After many months of being friends with you, he should be immune to your charms. The more time he spends with you, though, the more unarmed he seems to be to your enchanting magnetism. You’re not nice to his heart, but up until this moment, he kinda liked the tug of war over yours.

The moment drags itself along before he hears you sigh from somewhere in front of him, frustration so evident in the sound. Sunwoo doesn’t really know what you have to be so infuriated about, since as far as he’s aware, he’s the one left cold and unwanted in the comfort of your room that smells deadly of your perfume (that’s so hard to shake off sometimes, yet he can’t find it in him to hate the sweet scent), but as he looks up to meet your eye, he chokes on his own spit at the image that meets his eye.

“You still don’t know how to play that riff, do you?” you click your tongue, shaking your head. It’s not the action that leaves Sunwoo feeling warmer than before, sweat almost comically appearing on his forehead– the image of you in only last remains of your school uniform does, though, as his eyes unashamedly scan the lengths of your now uncovered legs up your thighs to the curve of your bum, visible as you stare at him sideways, soft skin only slightly covered by the tinge oversized white button-down, red lace peeking out, piercing his gaze.

The boy silently shakes his head, licking his lips in a scattered manner. “Nope,” he admits, letting the last syllable pop in the now silent room, blood rushing to his ears as you stride forward and reach his position in your bedsheets.

“It’s really easy,” you huff, “you just– wait, let me show you,” you start, almost making the boy offer your own guitar back to you, before he watches you climb into the bed behind him, making his breathing hitch in his throat.

This is not at all what he expected you to do, he recognises when he feels your breathing on his neck as you lean over him, thighs straddling his back and pressing into his sides when you kneel on the mattress behind his back in order to have the best vision of the guitar. Sunwoo’s hands slip off the instrument when he finds your head next to his, your arms sneaking around his figure to press the chords down with your digits instead, strumming the strings and caging the boy into your scent and the flush of your muscles, forcing him to watch the little tutorial from first point of view. Your fingers move skillfully against the strings, having played that exact riff many times before (which is also why Sunwoo decided to pick it up, for it reminded him of the afternoons spent in the comfort of your room, laying on the rug in the middle of the floor as you played him your favorite songs), and he can’t help but feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up when your breath meets the side of his face.

“Clearer now?”

“Mhm,” he gulps, nodding. He’s too afraid to turn his head, too scared to see your face so from up close and not instinctively trail his gaze to your lips (of which curves have been sculpted in the heaven, he thinks), and so he only results to taking ahold of the guitar again, battling the reality of having your naked legs pressing into him from behind, fighting the image of your underwear out of his head to the best of his abilities.

He tries to mimic the position of your fingers on the guitar, but the fact that he remembered it wrong (or just was too distracted by his surroundings to really take the information in) is set out to him when you quickly take ahold of his hand, left palm glazing his to move his ring finger to the right position. “Here,” you hum, “that’s the problem. You keep pressing it on the 3rd fret instead of the 4th and that’s why it sounded so weird,” you laugh, the vibration of it against his back making Sunwoo feel like he’s being pumped with pure electricity, fireflies filling his stomach.

“I think it’s too fast for me to keep up with,” he complains, managing to drag a coherent sentence out of his mouth.

“I’ll pluck the strings for you,” you offer, voice saccharine right in his ear, “just try to get the chord patterns down.”

The boy nods, forcing the snapshots of the chord placements to the front of his brain, both begging to get it right so you end your little intimate tutoring session and also hoping he messes up again just to have you scold him and forcefully dragging his fingers to the correct strings– having Sunwoo pathetically yearning for the slightest of your touches. The heartbeat ringing in his own ears serves him as a metronome, and as he chews on the inside of his cheek when he starts, his head spins with the intoxication of your scent, making it hard for him to focus on the tune. 

“You got it wrong again,” you hiss into his ear, making goosebumps appear all over his skin. Oh, how mean you are– completely aware of the effect you have on the boy. He’s starting to think you love the idea of torturing him. It must be fun to have someone so under your spell, so drunk on your bare existence. 

“I’ll practice more until our next tutoring,” he gulps, laughing airly as you let go of him and move away, letting the poor boy finally breathe.

“You better,” you snicker, standing up and walking back over to your opened closet, bending over to pick up your discarded skirt off the ground and offering the boy a clear view of your bum from where he’s sitting on your bed. Now, there’s no denying you like to tease him. And Sunwoo is aware he might get burned, but like a little boy, he kind of enjoys playing with fire. “Or I’ll start to think you are enjoying my lessons a little too much.”

“Only the ones where you get all angry with me,” he notes, placing the guitar next to him on the bed, his palms now too sweaty to continue playing. “You’re kind of hot when you scream at me.”

Throwing a playful look over your shoulder at the boy, making the first two buttons of your blouse undone, a chuckle leaves your throat. “You’re not the first one to tell me that, sweetheart,” you note. “Now leave my room, you pervert. It’s almost 5 and I have to change.”

Defeated, but still obedient, Sunwoo stands up from your bed and takes slow steps towards the door, dreading his departure. The idea of Mark Lee getting to enjoy this side of you makes Sunwoo particularly green, but the feelings quickly fade when he remembers the moments from a few seconds ago, when he thinks back to the softness of your skin. Before he has the chance to leave, though, a tug on his tie yanks him towards you– the school uniform still covering his body from when he walked home with you two hours ago, carrying both of your bags,  proving as an effective attire for your afternoon hangouts.

Pulling him down so your faces are on the same level, the tips of your noses almost touching, has Sunwoo’s shocked eyes grow comically wide and his cheeks burn a crimson red. He feels your breathing fan his lips from the proximity, heart once again running a marathon in his chest when your voice purrs out in a feline-like manner, riling him up. “Always tugging on those strings, but I'll have you know, Sunwoo, you tug on mine all the time,” you grin, gaze only momentarily slipping towards his chapped lips.

Oh, you’re not nice. You’re pretty fucking far from nice– from how you’re playing with his heart, leading him on. 

Or are you not…? He guesses he’ll have to find out. 

You're a far better guitar player than Sunwoo is, but if you ever wanted a new instrument to perfect, he is more than willing to offer you his body to practice on. 

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Love Without Measure or End by Charles Spurgeon

LORD, we would come to Thee, but do Thou come to us. Draw us and we will run after Thee. Blessed Spirit, help our infirmities, for we know not what we should pray for as we ought. Come, Holy Spirit, and give right thoughts and right utterance that we may all be able to pray in the common prayer, the whole company feeling that for each one there is a portion. We are grateful as we remember that if the minister in the sanctuary should not be able to pray for any one of us there is One who bears the names of all His redeemed upon His breast and upon His shoulder, who will take care with the love of His heart and the power of His hand to maintain the cause of all His own.

Dear Savior, we put ourselves under Thy sacred patronage. Advocate with the Father, plead for us this day, yea, make intercession for the transgressors. We desire to praise the name of the Lord with our whole heart, so many of us as have tasted that the Lord is gracious. Truly Thou hast delivered us from the gulf of dark despair, wherein we wretched sinners lay. Thou hast brought us up also out of the horrible pit and out of the miry clay. Thou hast set our feet upon a rock and the new song which Thou hast put into our mouths we would not stifle, but we would bless the Lord whose mercy endureth forever.

We thank Thee, Lord, for the love without beginning which chose us or ever the earth was, for the love without measure which entered into covenant for our redemption, for the love without failure which in due time appeared in the person of Christ and wrought out our redemption, for that love which has never changed, though we have wandered, that love which abideth faithful even when we are unfaithful.

O God, we praise Thee for keeping us till this day and for the full assurance that Thou wilt never let us go. Some can say, “He restoreth my soul,” they had wandered, wandered sadly, but Thou hast brought them back again. Lord, keep us from wandering, then will we sing, “Unto Him that is able to keep us from stumbling and to present us faultless before His presence with exceeding joy.” Bless the Lord, our inmost soul blesses the Lord. Blessed be the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, the Triune. Blessed be the Lord forever office sustained by each divine person and for the divine blessing which has come streaming down to us through each one of those, condescending titles worn by the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit.

We feel like singing all the time. We would take down our harp from the willows, if we had hung it there, and we would waken every string to the sweetest melody of praise unto the Lord our God. Yet, Lord, we cannot close with praise, for we are obliged to come before Thee with humble confession of sin. We are not worthy of the least of all these favors. We cannot say, “He is worthy for whom Thou shouldst do this thing,” nay, but we are altogether unworthy and Thy gifts are according to the riches of Thy grace, for which again we praise Thee.

Lord, forgive us all our sin. May Thy pardoned ones have a renewed sense of their acceptance in the Beloved. If any cloud has arisen to hide Thee from any believing eye, take that cloud away. If in our march through this world, so full of mire as it is, we have any spot on us, dear Savior, wash our feet with that blessed foot-bath and then say to us, “Ye are clean every whit.” May we know it so, that there is no condemnation, no separation, sin is removed as to its separating as well as its destroying power, and may we enter into full fellowship with God. May we walk in the light as God is in the light and have fellowship with Him, while the blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin. Let no child of Thine have any dead work upon his conscience and may our conscience be purged from dead works to serve the living and true God.

And oh! if there are any that after having made the profession of religion have gone astray by any form of sin, Lord, restore them. If they have fallen by strong drink, if they have fallen by unchastity, if they have fallen by dishonesty, if, in any way, they have stained their garments, oh! that Thy mighty grace might bring them back and put them yet among the children. But give them not up, set them not as Admah, make them not as Zeboim, but let Thy repentings be kindled and Thy bowels of compassion be moved for them, and let them also be moved, and may they return with weeping and with supplication and find Thee a God ready to pardon.

Furthermore, we ask of Thee, our Father, this day to perfect Thy work within our hearts. We are saved, but we would be saved from sin of every form and degree—from sins that lie within and we are scarcely aware that they are there. If we have any pride of which we are not conscious, any unbelief of which we are not aware, if there is a clinging to the creature, a form of idolatry which we have not yet perceived, we pray Thee, Lord, to search us as with candles till Thou dost spy out the evil and then put it away. We are not satisfied with pardoned sin, “We pray, create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” Help us in our daily life, in our families, in our relations as husbands or wives, parents or children, masters or servants, in our business transactions with our fellow men, in our dealings with the Church of God, may we be true, upright, pure, kept from the great transgression because we are kept from the minor.

Oh! that we may be such as glorify Christ. Save us, we pray Thee, from the common religion. Give us the peculiar grace of a peculiar people. May we abide in Christ. May we live near to God. Let not the frivolities of the world have any power over us whatever. May we be too full grown in grace to be bewitched with the toys which are only becoming in children. Oh! give us to serve Thee and especially, and this prayer we have already prayed but we pray it again, make us useful in the salvation of our fellow man. O Lord, have we lived so long in the world and yet are our children unconverted? May we never rest until they are truly saved. Have we been going up and down in business and are those round about us as yet unaware of our Christian character? Have we never spoken to them the Word of Life? Lord, arouse us to a deep concern for all with whom we come in contact from day to day. Make us all missionaries at home or in the street, or in our workshop, wherever Providence has cast our lot, may we there shine as lights in the world.

Lord, keep us right, true in doctrine, true in experience, true in life, true in word, true in deed. Let us have an intense agony of spirit concerning the many who are going down to the everlasting fire of which our Master spoke. Lord, save them! LORD, SAVE THEM! Stay, we pray Thee, the torrents of sin that run down the streets of London, purge the dead sea of sin, in which so many of the heathen are lying asoak. Oh! that the day were come when the name of Jesus shall be a household word, when everybody knew of His love, and of His death, and of His blood, and of its cleansing power. Lord, save men, gather out the company of the redeemed people. Let those whom the Father gave to Christ be brought out from among the ruins of the fall to be His joy and crown. “Let the people praise Thee, O God, yea, let all the people praise Thee.” Let the ends of the earth fear Him who died to save them. Let the whole earth be filled with the glory of God.

This is our great prayer and we crown it with this, Come, Lord Jesus, come Lord and tarry not. Come in the fulness of Thy power and the splendour of Thy glory! Come quickly, even so come quickly, Lord Jesus. Amen.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for miri-tiazan behind the cut; “the one where omegaverse fucks up Red Hood’s life”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Get up,” Bruce says, short and neutral and flat, and Dick half-lifts his head with a blurry expression and another confused noise and shifts his weight just the slightest little bit and Jason–Jason–

He doesn’t know if Bruce thinks he’s a trick or a trap or just thinks Dick’s out of his fucking mind; drugged-up or concussed or mind-controlled or compromised or who knows the fuck what. Just having a fucking nervous breakdown, maybe. He doesn’t know what Bruce is thinking at all, aside from how Bruce definitely doesn’t think he’s him. 

But Bruce didn’t answer that stupid fucking useless pup call he didn’t mean to make, and Dick’s shifting his weight like he might be about to pull back from him, and Jason . . . Jason’s fucking bullshit omega . . . 

Bruce didn’t answer last time either. 

And they replaced him. 

“B,” Dick says, sounding a little punch-drunk; off-balance and off-kilter. Jason thinks about–

Jason doesn’t think, because if he’d thought, Dick would’ve had the time to stop him before he yanked the gun out of its holster. No matter how rutted-up he might be, he would’ve. 

Definitely he at least would’ve reacted before Jason had the barrel shoved up under his jaw, at least. 

“Off,” he snarls, and he’s going to actually fucking lose his mind the moment Dick’s not touching him anymore, but he’s just fucking not putting up with this fucking bullshit situation, with this–he’s not, he’s not, they fucking replaced him! 

Dick turns his head just enough to frown at him like he thinks he’s being a fucking brat about this, and Jason’s trigger finger itches. 

And his fucking chest just fucking bleeds like a sucking chest wound right where he used to have a heart. 

“Off!” he snarls again, and Dick just keeps frowning at him. Just . . . that same frown, again, like he’s just being–fucking immature or unreasonable or–o-or– 

The whole room feels exactly like Batman always feels the moment someone pulls a gun, but Dick isn’t acting like he’s noticed that any more than the gun barrel pressed up into his jaw. 

“Robin,” Dick says, like there is not, again, a literal fucking gun barrel up against his fucking jaw, and Jason almost just fucking shoots him. Not even on purpose–just the bastard’s looking straight at him and calling him that, and his trigger finger almost just pulls. Just–not even on purpose. 

Even if he maybe should’ve just done it on purpose. 

Fucking–bastard, always. Always, always, always, always, always. Dick’s always a fucking bastard. Always doing the fucking worst thing; always being a goddamn liar. Always doing shit like looking at him instead of the gun. 

Instead of Batman. 

“Get. Up,” Bruce says in Batman’s low growl, because between the three of them, he’s the worst bastard in this room. 

Or maybe Dick’s the one who’s the worst bastard in this room, because he still doesn’t get up. Not even for Batman’s voice, does he get up. Which–fuck, Jason had almost tried to get up, hearing Batman give an order. 

He’s so angry about that.

[incognitowarlockwhumpblog]

at least it's not manual...

The steering wheel was slick with sweat under Kazuki’s grip, his knuckles white as he fought against the car's automated system. The dashboard glowed an angry red, error messages flashing across the screen in rapid succession. *MANUAL OVERRIDE DISABLED. NAVIGATION COMPROMISED. EMERGENCY PROTOCOLS ACTIVATED.* Kazuki was already bleeding somewhat heavily from the head wound where some moron had tried to get in his way as the Kazuki and Rei were taking care of business, while Rei looked a lot better than him after the altercation that came out of nowhere. A lot like this sudden and quite immediate emergency car trouble.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Kazuki slammed his palm against the wheel, but the car continued its erratic path, swerving between lanes on the mountain road. The guardrail rushed past them in a blur, and beyond it—nothing but a sheer drop into darkness.

"You can't drive like this."

Rei's voice cut through Kazuki’s panic, low and steady, but Kazuki could hear the tension beneath it. He was gripping the door handle so tightly his knuckles matched Kazuki’s, his usually impassive face pale in the dashboard's red glow.

"I'm not driving!" Kazuki shouted back, voice cracking. "The car's doing whatever the hell it wants! The whole system's been hijacked!"

The car jerked suddenly to the left, tires screaming against asphalt. Kazuki felt the vehicle lift slightly on two wheels before crashing back down. His heart hammered against his ribs so hard he thought it might burst.

Miri.

Her name hit Kazuki like a physical blow. She was at home, probably already in her pajamas, maybe asking where they were. Maybe wondering why they weren't back yet to tuck her in and read her a bedtime story.

"We're going to die," Kazuki whispered, the words escaping before he could stop them. "We're going to die and Miri—she'll be all alone. She'll think we abandoned her."

"Kazuki." Rei's hand suddenly covered Kazuki’s on the steering wheel, his fingers ice-cold but steady. "We're not going to die."

But even as he said it, the car accelerated. The speedometer climbed—60, 70, 80 mph on a winding mountain road designed for half that speed. The next curve was coming up fast, a sharp left turn with nothing but air beyond it.

"I can't—" Kazuki’s voice broke completely. "I can't leave her. She's just a little girl. She needs us. She needs her papas."

Tears blurred Kazuki’s vision, making the road ahead swim and distort. The car was shaking now, the engine screaming as it pushed beyond its limits. he could smell burning rubber, hear the horrible grinding of metal as the automated system pushed the vehicle to its breaking point.

"Look at me," Rei said sharply. When Kazuki didn't respond, still frantically trying to regain control, he grabbed Kazuki’s chin and forced him to meet his eyes. "Look at me, Kazuki."

His dark eyes were fierce, more intense than Kazuki had ever seen them. "We're going to see Miri again. Do you hear me? We're going to go home, and we're going to read her that stupid princess book she loves, and we're going to tell her about our day. But I need you to focus."

The curve was approaching. Twenty seconds, maybe less. The car wasn't slowing down.

"I can't do this," Kazuki gasped. "I can't—"

"Yes, you can." Rei's grip tightened on Kazuki’s hands. "You're the one who taught me how to be a father. You're the one who made us a family. You don't get to give up on us now."

Fifteen seconds. The guardrail was rushing toward them, and beyond it, the yawning void of the ravine.

"There!" Rei pointed suddenly at a small emergency runoff ramp carved into the mountainside—a last resort for runaway trucks, filled with loose gravel designed to stop vehicles through friction. "Can you get us there?"

Ten seconds. The car was fighting Kazuki, the automated system trying to maintain its suicidal course, but Kazuki threw his entire weight against the wheel. The power steering shrieked in protest.

"Come on!" Kazuki roared, muscles straining. "Come on, you piece of—"

Five seconds. The car's front wheels hit the gravel ramp, and suddenly they were climbing, the loose stones spraying up against the windshield like bullets. The car bucked and lurched, throwing them against their seats as it fought the sudden change in terrain.

Three seconds. The engine gave one final, defiant roar before the gravel did its work, dragging them to a violent, jarring stop.

Silence.

They sat there, breathing hard, the only sound the tick of cooling metal and the distant whisper of wind through the trees. The dashboard had gone dark, the malevolent red glow finally extinguished.

"Are we—" Kazuki started to ask, then stopped, afraid to voice the question.

"We're alive," Rei said quietly. His hand was still covering Kazuki's, and Kazuki realized he was shaking. "We're alive, and we're going home."

Kazuki started to laugh then, a sound somewhere between hysteria and relief. "Miri's going to be so mad we're late for bedtime."

"She'll get over it," Rei said, and for the first time since this nightmare began, Kazuki heard the ghost of a smile in his voice. "Especially when we tell her about our adventure."

"Adventure?" Kazuki turned to look at him, incredulous. "Rei, we almost died!"

He shrugged, that familiar, maddening calm settling over him again. "But we didn't. And now we have a story to tell."

In the distance, Kazuki could see the lights of the city below, warm and welcoming. Somewhere down there, their daughter was waiting for them. They were going to see her again. They were going to go home.

"Next time," Kazuki said, starting to unbuckle his seatbelt, "we're taking the train."

"Agreed," Rei replied, already reaching for his phone to call for help. "Definitely agreed."

Kazuki stepped out of the car and saw that his head wound was bleeding a lot less than before and he didn’t feel quite as dizzy anymore.

Rei got out with him, and when he was done calling for help, walked up to Kazuki and checked on Kazuki's wound. “It’s looks bad,” he said.

“Honestly, after that run in with death just now,” Kazuki responded, “It doesn’t feel all that bad.”

At this Rei smiled.

“You still have to hide it from Miri,” he said.

“Yes, I know. I’ll figure something out when we get back.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Before Kazuki could respond they heard the sirens of an approaching vehicle , the help Rei had called for arrived.

Rei suddenly embraced Kazuki, something he rarely ever did.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Rei was saying.

Translation: I was terrified for you back there.

Kazuki merely smiled. “I’m glad you’re okay too, Rei.”

@whumperless-whump-event

prompt|ATLEAST ITSNOT MANUAL: Trapped in a car / stranded / “You cant drive like this.”

more on AO3

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Christmas Time: Yandere Buddy Daddies x Teen Delinquent Reader

The sight of snow behind the luxury condo’s window still felt odd to you

 Even with the fluffy insulating blanket around your body it still felt…weird

You didn’t look at the orange and flower embroidered blanket rustling next to you

With a yawn, Miri poked her head out to look for you

“(Y/n)? W-where oh, there you are.”

She scooched up to you 

Shoving her way past your arms and into the comfort of your blanket, cozying up to your body

The sight of snow behind the luxury condo’s window still felt odd to you

 Even with the fluffy insulating blanket around your body it still felt…weird

You didn’t look at the orange and flower embroidered blanket rustling next to you

With a yawn, Miri poked her head out to look for you

“(Y/n)? W-where oh, there you are.”

She scooched up to you 

Shoving her way past your arms and into the comfort of your blanket, cozying up to your body

“You always up so early… it's like you’re trying to leave me out.”

“I’d never Miri.”

She hummed clutching at your matching pajamas

You didn’t bother looking away from the snow sighing to yourself

“Is this your first time seeing snow?”

It was Re–Papa Rei who somehow quietly slotted himself next to you 

His hair was pulled back and he was wearing a nice suit with little tears

“Another...bad interview?”

“...Yeah…” He forgot that’s what they’ve been telling you two

“So first time?”

“...No, just the first time I’m inside for it.”

You could feel him looking at you 

“I heard…I know…the snow’s really different when you’re not surviving against it.”

You looked at him, listlessly worried for you 

Before turning your attention back to the window

“Alright, everyone! Are special cozy Christmas brunch is ready!”

Miri sluggishly perked up still wobbly with the effects of early morning/night gift giving

Thanks to circumstance Papa Kazuki had to be really roundabout when bringing Miri home

So all three of you spent the night napping irregularly and driving around

Only returning past midnight and forced to open presents early due to Miri’s demand Republic dictatorship

You didn’t mind it, getting more things you’d never imagine yourself holding in three lifetimes

And receiving kisses and hugs from everyone for gifts you don’t remember wrapping

It felt strange

With Miri slowly waking up her and Kazuki’s shouts of a feast almost underway

Beckoning you and Rei to join

With one more look at you, he went stripping off his work attire

It was Papa Kazuki who came to you 

Standing in front of you to block the window

“You too grumpy pants! Come on up you go!”

He made the motions with his hand before he went to grab you

Picking you up with ease as he made his way to the dinner table

you thought he’d put you down once you got there but he carries you still

Stopping before your designated chair

“Uhm Papa-Kazuki?”

“Yes, bug?”

“Can you put me down?”

“Hmmm?”

The blonde-brunette pretended to think 

To which you rolled your eyes

Giving a reluctant kiss to his cheek 

He finally let you down

“Awww you’re so well-behaved. Merry Christmas (Y/n)!”

“Mewwy Cwistmas!”

“Miri take your time and chew your food!”

“Omkay.”

“...Happy Christmas (Y/n).”

You sighed looking down at your plate full of all your favorites

Then back at your…family

“Thanks, guys, uh Merry Christmas?”

[npc-tabs]

WIP/snippet of my Illario smut-fic

Because we all love a good Illario redemption/smutty/all things finely crafted bubble but that you could melt some.... uh... nevermind. I'll save the thirsting for the writing.

I was tagged to share by @silurisanguine. This is my not-shared-yet Illario smutfest I'm working on. Miri is a total OC and not a Rook (Rook is a side-character in this story).

Please be gentle with me... I'm really quite new to the Tumblr thing.

The thrumming of the music was giving way to a steadier, trancelike beat as the party continued to pick up, more of its attendees under the influence of psychedelics and making their way to the dancefloor. At the centre of it all, Melandrin, who was feasting himself on two masked women who seemed thrilled to be in his presence. Miri fought the urge to gag and turned her attention back to the refreshments, reaching slowly for a glass of champagne. Her hand hovered over a glass as she felt someone slide up next to her. “Allow me.” A heavy Antivan accent purred in her ear, lips grazing her lobe as an olive-skinned arm reached around to grab the glass. He pulled it towards himself, forcing Miri to turn and look at him. “Illario.” “Mirella,” she replied, fluttering her eyelashes and taking the glass from him before he offered. She threw it back in one swift gulp, then put the empty glass on the table. “Abandoned your prey?” Her question dripped with dry amusement, a wry smirk on her face. “How could I spend my evening with someone so inexperienced when a far more enticing prize remained?” Illario bit his lower lip as he finished talking, gaze drifting to Miri's mouth. “I came here tonight to taste only the best… wines Minrathous has to offer, not the most available.” Miri blinked at him, trying to discern whether the line was sincere, searching his expression for any sign that he was saying it sardonically, mocking his former prey. His face tilted down towards her, eyes looking up at her through long lashes exactly as he had done to the woman in the black skirt. He was using the line in complete seriousness. “Does that line actually work on anyone?” She gave a bored sigh, tossing a glance towards the dance floor. Illario looked genuinely taken aback. His expression recovered just as quickly as it had faltered, the smooth, seductive tone applied even more heavily as he responded. “Perhaps, but clearly not on you.” He leaned in again, his hand brushing down her arm slowly, stopping at her elbow as he gripped it lightly. “Might I convince you out on the dancefloor?”

[trekmupf]

Kirk starring in The Pacifier 🧬🧒 💉

Pro

Love how McCoy hangs out on the bridge for no reason, again

McCoy, old timey architecture enthusiast

McCoy and Spock get to interact so much during this!

Kirk's way of dealing with the kids has such a range this episode – we go from softly and nicely interacting with Miri to literally yanking a child off a table after desperately yelling nonsense

Pointing out separately how Kirk is beat up by a bunch of children

Spock famously sniffing and almost nibbling the documents

Spock being helpless and having to deal with the possibility of his friends dying and him staying behind; also further insight in his unique position due to his heritage

McCoy also feeling helpless – and giving us insight into his character: being scared of succumbing to the illness and hurting others, trying to safe not only his friends but a bunch of children, the stress of the time constraint and him doing the logical thing in the end and testing the vaccine on himself as soon as Spock is out of sight so no one can stop him

Also him shouting for Spock immediately

Spock leaning over him is a great moment for all the shippers out there (me)

Also extra point for McCoy looking beautiful while lying unconsciously on the floor (a trend that picks up in S3)

the deterioration of sanity in the adults is actually terrifying and adds to the tension

the basic idea for the plot (a virus that kills adult and leaves a planet full of almost immortal children and stranding out characters there)

creepy atmosphere, especially in the beginning with the children's voices

Generally the tension early in the episode is held up by not knowing what's going on, then gains speed because we know exactly what's going on

great set design underlining the creepy narrative and feeling of being lost without help

Another narrative about the dangers of pursuing immortality / long-levity which ends up in great tragedy

Also This episode analysis by @trek-tracks is amazing. Major galaxy brain energy.(who doesn't love our boys suffering juuust a little bit more)

Con

The casting of Jahn is just. Not great. I know why they had to put in a „leader“ but he gets too much screentime, is everything I hate about children characters and he annoys me.

The children's group scenes are exhausting

The childrens "language", even though it makes sense and is technically a nice touch, gets old real fast

The combination of that makes parts of the episode feel almost silly (in a not good way) and are hard to watch

Even though it's sort of realistic considering Miri's narrative the jealousy plot with Yeoman Rand is unnecessary. It takes away time that could've been used to explore better themes in the episode and plays the only two female characters of the episode against each other

I wish Yeoman Rand would have more to do to do than "make Miri jealous and be scared"

after the episode takes a long time to get to certain points the ending feels very sudden

I know it looks like so many more Pro points but I love some of the characterwork, and the points that are bad are SO BAD.

Counter:

Kirk shirt-rip

One of the trio being ready to sacrifice himself (McCoy)

Quote: „And I do want to go back to the ship, captain“ - Spock Honorary: That Look Bones and Spock share when Kirk asks them to „simply create a vaccine“ Moment: McCoy being immediately ready to sacrifice himself and the dynamic surrounding that

Extra shot of beautiful McCoy with Spock gently holding his face

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[the-soul-detectives]

Posting all my fics here!

(Spoilers for Attack and Guilt)

A Party

The party downstairs was loud and chaotic, guests mingled and Alistair entertained with air magic. The door muffled the noise from the party, and behind that door was the makar himself, Callum Hunt. He was with the Rajavi prodigy, AKA his girlfriend, Tamara Rajavi.

They sat next to each other on Call's floor, hands laced together, earphones in one ear each. They were the only ones not downstairs. The couple were just in the small room, in their own little world, own little bubble of calm. Call then leaned his head onto Tamara's shoulder, his eyes slowly drooping. Tamara's hand instinctively went to the side of his head to stabilize him.

The makar felt her soft hand touch his face, softly caressing. That made the edges of his lips softly twitch, a gentle smile then appearing. His free arm reaches out to grab her waist, pulling her onto his lap. Tamara sighs, but it was more of acceptance rather than exasperation. She pulls his head onto her chest, her hands softly tugging and playing with his hair. They stayed there, no words exchanged, but their actions said enough about them.

Attack

Call stared at Tamara from across the battle field, the infamous silver mask covering his face. Miri was clutched in his hands, the weapon once representing his mother, now representing the child Alistair should've killed in the first place. Maybe, just maybe, if his father had just let him die in the cold and unforgiving cave, this wouldn't have happened. Too late now. It was too late to correct past mistakes. Or was it truly a mistake? Call wondered. Maybe it was right now to the Magisterium, but who cared? They were the ones to take him away from his father anyway. They were the reason his mother wasn't alive. Because of that stupid war.

"Call..." Tamara whispered under her breath, heart devastated. This wasn't the boy she knew. This wasn't the boy who intentionally tried to fail the Iron Trials because he father said so. This wasn't the boy that constantly whined about going to a magic school. This wasn't the boy that she had shared countless of nights with. No, this was a different person standing in front of her. One that had fully embraced being the thing he swore he wouldn't be. This wasn't Callum Hunt anymore—Was it ever? — This was Constantine Madden, back in the flesh.

He raised his arm and muttered a single word. A word that he promised never to utter as a command.

"Attack"

The Magical Café

"WHAT?!" Callum exclaimed, exasperated as hell. Tamara sat to his left, mouth wide open, looking almost offended. Aaron, who was in the kitchen meanwhile, looked slightly excited.

"Yes. We are serious. This is a new form of punishment we shall give to misbehaving students. And you three," Rufus glanced and his apprentices "Just happened to have a punishment pending due to that... Stunt you held in the refectory a few days back." His stance was firm, his voice was steady. He was certain with his decision.

So that's how the apprentices of Master Rufus ended up here, in the creatively named "The Magical Café". They were going to work as punishment. As bariatas. To the new café. Tamara and Call looked about ready to make the floor collapse. Aaron meanwhile was smiling sympathetically

"Cmon guys. It isn't THAT bad" He patted his friends backs. "It's just working as baristas. You make coffee and serve them. What could go wrong?"

"Aaron, you just jinxed us." Call pointed out, his eyes narrowing at his best friend. "Plus, this means that we have to talk to other people." he grumbled stubbornly. He wasn't a fan of people.

After a few moments of silent life questioning, Tamara sighed, grabbing her apron and tying it behind her back. "Well, if we're gonna do this, we better do this right. Master Rufus said that we'd get another shift if our services were rated a 7 below." A collective shudder went through the three of them.

Eventually, with a begrudging pout, Call grumbled something about "Elementals being easier to deal with than customers" and called divs on making the coffee. Probably for the best. Aaron was in charge of serving the drinks to customers since he was the least clumsy and he loved people. Tamara took the cashier since she knew soxial cues and how to deal with people since... Rich family requires a lot of socializing.

First hour in. It was manageable. A few students. Elementals (somehow? Neither of them knew why). And a few masters. Nothing too irritating. Until 11am. When a flood of people came in. What. The. Hell. It wasn't lunch rush yet?!

The trio stared at the growing line. Then to each other. Then back to the growing line. With a synced sigh, Call rolled up his sleeves, Tamara put on her most polite face, and Aaron rolled his shoulders. Today was gonna be busy.

Call worked efficiently, hands busy while he stared at the orders on the tablet. His hand-eye coordination was surprisingly good for a guy like him. He worked on the coffees as quickly as he could and put them on the counter for Aaron to serve. Aaron was surprisingly good at his job. He greeted customers and initiated a bit of small talk. Considering he was THE makar.. Yea, that would definitely help their reviews. Tamara was amazing at her job. She kept a polite smile and a cheerful voice. Call wondered how the hell could she do it. If it were him, he'd be drained after the first five customers.

Eventually... It was over. It was finally lunch break for them. The lunch rush was over. Tamara put up the "On break" sign and sat down with Call and Aaron at one of the booths. Rufus came in to check on his apprentices, who were snacking on some lichen and bologna sandwiches. With a chuckle, the master approached the wistful trio.

"So, how was your day so far?" He asked in a dry yet teasing tone. Aaron was the first to answer.

"It was... Fine." Though, the weary and tired look on his face said otherwise. Tamara opened her mouth next.

"It was exhausting. I never wanna do this again" She slumped on the table, braids a mess. Call untied her braids and brushed out her hair as he answered himself.

"It was hell on earth. I got burnt by hot coffee several times." He grumbled bitterly. Almost as bitter as pure coffee. "I couldn't heal it because those damn orders kept coming. I am a single teenager here!" The makar rolled his eyes while rebraiding Tamara's hair.

Rufus chuckled and sat next to Aaron then patted his back. "You're doing a great job so far. I only hear positive things about you three from the customers. So far." The underlying threat wasn't lost on the three apprentices.

"Anyhow. I must get going" He stood up and dusted off his deep purple robes. "There are still many matters to attend to. I expect to hear these stunning reviews till your shift has ended" Then he walks out.

Call, Aaron, and Tamara looked at each other, then laughed. Yea, they could only hope those shiny reviews would stay

Guilt

17 days, 6 hours, 25 minutes, and 45 seconds. Aaron has been keeping count. How could he not? He couldn't keep the moment out of his mind. The moment where Tamara lunged at him and Call was hit with the Alkahest. The blast of light was burned into his head. The guilt was too much. He had locked himself in his room. He couldn't even bear to go to the funeral. To see his best friends eyes, now forever closed. Doomed to death.

Tamara stared at the ceiling, her eyes tired and red rimmed from the amount of tears she's shed. She had been having trouble sleeping at night due to the guilt. Seeing Call in his suit made it worse. Seeing him in that coffin, knowing that she could've saved him. Could've saved both of them. But... Fate had other plans. Sometimes, she thinks about the what ifs. The constsnt what ifs. What if she had saved Call instead of Aaron? Would he be mad? It kept her up at night. Her parents visited a lot, even gave her some pills to help with insomnia. She never took them. How could she sleep peacefully now that one of her best friends was dead?

Jasper sat on the floor of his room. He didn't really know what to think. His frenemy was dead. Maybe it was for the better. He was the Enemy of death, wasn't he? Everyone wanted that guy dead. He should be non chalant about it. He was thw literal start of all his misfortune. Starting from when he took his spot as Rufus' apprentice during the Iron Trials. But why... Why did he feel so empty? Like, something was missing. He attended the funeral. He saw Call in the coffin. He was given the proper burial of a makar. That was good at least. He shouldn't have cried. He wasn't even that close to Call. Yea, he spent a few nights at his place. Yea, he knew his secret. Yea, Call trusted him with said secret. But they weren't that close. At least, that's what he always told himself. So he could stop the tears that fell. It always failed.

Rufus sat on his desk, hands clasped together tightly. An assembly member was talking from across him, but he couldn't hear them. All he could hear were the panicked yells of his students. The words "Call is dead." rang in ears. Callum Hunt was dead. His student. The strange pick of this. The one that didn't quite fit in. He remembers the Iron Trials. Seeing that strange boy enter with his forner student. Seeing his attmepts to fail. He was the first one to get a negative score in the history of the Iron Trials. He couldn't have ever imagined all that... Could led up to this. And maybe, jusr maybe, if he didn't pivk Callum in the first place and stripped him of his magic... This wouldn't happen. He wouldn't be laying in a coffin, 6 feet deep.

Alistair was wracked with guilt. His tears wouldn't —couldn't—stop. Thid was all in his fault. He let Call go with them in the first place. His instincts were right all along. His son... Oh his poor son... The light of his life. The only reason he kept on going after Sarah's death... Sarah's death... She died while holding baby Callum. Holding the little life they created together. And carved behind her, on thst ice wall... KILL THE CHILD. He didn't have the heart to do so. So he didn't.. But now, he was reaping what he should've sown years ago.

Sarah

White. Soft. Bright. Those were the words Call would describe the place he was in right now. He doesn't remember much before this. But maybe he will later. But for now... He sat up. Feeling the fluff beneath his hands. It was just... A bright white expanse. Where was he?

He stoods up and looked around. Nothin. Just pure nothing. Eventually, he decided to walk, mindlessly roaming around until he found some sort of sign of life. A soft sigh escaped his lips. Yknow... Despite the endless, void-like expanse... It was kinda peaceful here. He definitely felt... Lighter. Way lighter than he ever had in his life. It made him wanna stop and just sink into the delicate, cloud like floor. It was ethereal here, he wasn't gonna deny that. Suddenly, a burst of color surrounds him. Butterflies. They were swarming him.

Usually, he would freak the hell out. Like, whwre did these little guys come from? But now... He just made him smile and giggle... It was kinda ticklish. So soft. So gentle. A black one came to him. His stuck his finger out and he let it sit there. It had black wing, and a bright orange edge around it. It was bolder than its other, pastel friends. Suddenly... They all fly away. Except the one on his finger.

The black butterfly then flew to... Someone else? It made Call exhale. Finally, another person. The woman had long black hair, a white dress, and a white sunhat. Geez, ethereal much? But honestly, Call couldn't bring himself to say that. His insides started to feel all... Fuzzy. And warm. Like he finally found the meaning of life in this woman.

She turned around, her silver eyes meeting his. Suddenly, his throat tightened. He swallowed a breath, his hands fidgeting nervously. She was kinda pretty...

This was his mom, wasn't it? He didn't know what bought him to that conclusion... But he met it. He shyly raised his hand for a handshake.

"Uh... Hi. I'm Call" His mom chuckled and leaned down to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you, Callum. I see your dad has raised you well." Call shuffled at the comment. Where was his dad? And why was Sarah here? Those questions started in his mind, then easily faded away. Like those questions didn't matter. Maybe it didn't.

Sarah then pulled him in, arms wrapping around her son. "My little army boy... You've done well. I'm so proud of the person who became" Warm. Soft. Call immediately melted, arms hugging her back as well. Maybe... Maybe he was better off here. Peaceful, with his mom. And maybe... That was enough.

Tags : @icantrememberwhoiwaslastdecember @theenemyod @thishumanformislimiting

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Headcanons | Being Little James’ younger sister with a similar condition | Platonic

Requested by Miri

Your parents were quite concerned about your big brother after he was born. Can you imagine the way they’d be even more worried when you were born with a similar condition as him? Seeing the culture in which you were born, the fact that you are a girl didn’t really help your case.

They worried about you constantly and James felt no different. He has always been protective over you and felt a great sense of responsibility towards you.

You suffer even more pain under your condition than he does, having stunted growth in your back that brings you great pain. He’d give anything to take that hurt away from you. If he could, he would gladly put it onto his own shoulders. 

Both of you have found much support with one another throughout your childhood, basically becoming inseparable, since you two were often excluded from the games the other kids in the village were playing. It was a sad time, but at least you had each other.

This didn’t change when adulthood rolled around. Neither of you had found a partner yet, so you moved in together instead, each of you having their own room in the house where everything was accessible, and there are enough pieces of furniture to seek support against.

Now, you have a nice homestead on the outskirts of Capernaum where you live in peace. Everything changes, however, when Jesus takes the village by storm and asks your older brother to follow Him. 

First, James isn’t certain of what to do. After all, he still feels that strong sense of duty towards you and doesn’t want to leave you all by yourself for an extended period of time, let alone without supervision. Not that you are still a child and in need of a warden, but still, it doesn’t feel right.

Luckily, the parents of John and Big James agree to look after you. Not in a caretaker kind of way, of course, but they provide occasional check-ins to see how you are doing and if you are in need of something. For example, Zebedee could lift some heavy things in the house if you need him to, and Salome doesn’t mind going the extra mile to get you some pain medication.

You get by as a seamstress, a job that allows you to sit down all day. Salome will walk around the village to either deliver mended clothes and pick up torn sets for you to stitch back up. It doesn’t earn much, but the work is honest and you can afford both food and medicine, so you don’t complain.

It is a trait that your brother loves about you; your way of peacefully coping with your immense pain. You never raise your fist at God in anger, no matter how much your body is hurting you.

Whenever James is back in town, you make sure to be one of the first people to speak to him. Of course, your home is his favourite destination. 

You make sure that his clothes are tended to and that he eats well, wanting him to be taken care of the same way that Salome looks after you. He always tells you about everything that he’s been up to as he digs into a meal that you’ve prepared for him, sharing stories to which you would listen until late in the evening until neither of you manages to stay awake anymore.

When James has the conversation with Jesus about why the Messiah hasn’t healed his condition, you are present as well. Even though you intend to walk off at first in order to give the two some privacy, Jesus implores you to stay, thinking that you need to hear this as well.

Both you and your older brother are clinging to one another’s arms once the conversation is over and you’ve shared a hug with Jesus. Once the Messiah has walked off, James pulls you into a tight embrace.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he’ll whisper against your headscarf, “And that you never give up hope.” 

“Now that He is here,” you whisper back, “The pain we go through feels even more temporary. This too shall pass.” 

Frankly, you dread the moment that James has to leave again, and so does he. Then again, you wouldn’t have had it any other way, that your own brother, who had been an outcast all his life, has now been elevated by the Messiah Himself. You are immensely proud of him, and he of you.