#The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb and all that

[is-on-its-way]

For Mulder, Scully is his touchstone

For Scully, Mulder is her covenant (biblical)

[ftl-faster-than-life]

"And the greatest gift they ever gave me...was showing me what family was."

"Barry might be a nerd...but you are such a sap, Wally."

[impish-ivy]

After my post here, I realized just how many characters have familial relationships.

I think the reason the relationships ObeyMe’s characters have with each other is so wholesome is because they’re all found families.

There’s the obvious one with; the brothers and MC, Barbatos and Diavolo, and Simeon and Luke both very much parental (I think it’s said in canon that Simeon sees Luke like a grandkid?) and then there’s Thirteen and Solomon who have a sibling-like bond. Angels also view each other as sisters and brothers but it’s so distinctly different than the bonds of the brothers.

This game is filled with families made of chosen bonds instead of blood. And I think this is what ObeyMe excels most at—familial relationships.

I never have once thought “hey these two characters don’t feel like they love each other”. Every character feels like their familial bonds are strong and solid—even the more chaotic ones like the 7 brothers. You can feel the love ooze out of every one of their conversations and every interactions, it’s sibling love so it’s grimy but the love—it’s almost overwhelming.

I think their relationship is even more important when given the context that all angels see each other as siblings. Angels view each other as sisters and brothers but it’s so distinctly different than the bonds of the brothers.

[ravynfyre]

happy birthday dad

sad, sordid tale beyond this cut

eleven years ago, on the 26th of march, my dad collapsed unexpectedly, and ended up rushed to a hospital several states away from where i lived at the time. he spent his birthday, march 28th, unconscious in an icu, while *that bitch he was married to* and i sat by his bedside, hoping that he would wake up. once he finally did, on two separate occasions, *she* "went out to smoke" and just... drove the several hours home without even saying goodbye to him, because she "just couldn't deal with him anymore." over the following three weeks, i would make several trips there for a few days at a time to spend with him in the hospital while they worked to figure out what was going on. my husband at the time *begrudgingly* let me use the credit card to cover the hotel stays and fuel for these trips, with the understanding that I would pay back every penny. that was probably not even the first writing on the wall that i should have taken note of, but, in my defense, i was a bit distracted at the time with worrying about my dad. by the end of that three weeks, they had finally discovered "lesions" on his brain that the docs felt confident was an infection that would easily clear up with the correct medications. dad told me to go home and stop worrying about him, and he'd be in touch, that i should stop coming down to visit because *she* was getting stressed out by me being there all the time, and also, he was just ashamed of me seeing him that weak. stupidly... i agreed.

spoiler alert: it wasn't an infection.

of course, i wouldn't find that out until many many weeks later. dad told me that he would call me when he was sent back home, but that call never came. by the end of april, i was pretty worried, and started calling their house all the time. no one ever answered, but i left messages. i left many, many messages. i called the hospital, but, of course, they could not, would not tell me anything.

mid may, that bitch he was married to sent my sister and i an email. in it, she said that i needed to stop being a lazy, selfish bitch, and come pick up my father, because she was "done dealing with him." she was "*tired* of being the only one ever taking him to his oncology appointments". she was "*tired* of changing his *diapers*". she was "*tired* of doing it all alone", so it was MY turn to deal with him because she was *done*.

this was the first time that either of us were told that it was cancer. glioblastoma. the same one that killed senator mccain. except my dad didn't have a cadilac, gold star, senatorial health care plan. mccain got over a year from his diagnosis before he died. my dad died june 17th - father's day. not even three full months.

as soon as i received that e-mail, i called, wanting 1) to know what the fuck was going on, and 2) when i could come down and start helping out. again, no one answered. no one returned my messages. i called the local sheriff's department down there and explained what was going on and begged them to do a welfare check and see if the contact information i had was correct (even though it was clearly that bitch and my dad on the answering machine where i was leaving my messages). they sent out a deputy, and i received a call back stating that the "legal resident at that location did not want them to pass along any information to me or my sister." the "only thing" that the deputy speaking to me could say without getting into trouble was that the "legal resident at that location" had not changed in the last at least 2 years, and i could make of that what i would. he did warn me, however, that the "legal resident at that location" was "prepared to press charges for trespassing" if anyone they did not approve of "happened to show up", and to be careful.

i had the feeling that this deputy was rather pushing the boundaries on what he was technically allowed or supposed to do... however, my dad had been a sheriff's deputy twice in his life: once when i was a young child, and once again just a few years before this incident, so i think there may have been some "professional courtesy" playing there.

over the next week, i received a couple more nasty emails from that bitch dad was married to. i called at least twice a day, every day, and always left a message. it was on day 7 after having spoken to the deputy that i called, and someone answered.

dad answered.

he was... not my dad. he slurred his words, spoke in childish phrases, seemed to lose the conversation often... and then, suddenly, in the background, i heard *her* screaming at him, demanding to know what he was doing, and how "he knew he wasn't allowed to answer the fucking phone!"

she took over the call, and then started screaming at me when she figured out who i was that it was "about fucking time that i gave a shit about my father", and "where have i been for the last two months?" and other such bullshit. i asked her why she was lying and why she'd been trying to keep me from talking to my dad. she screamed at me about accusing her of lies and other crap, and i explained that if i didn't get to speak with my father, that i would call that sheriff's department up and file a charge of elder endangerment against her. she literally threw the phone back at my dad and screamed stuff at him. i should have called and made the request to file the charge anyway, but, hindsight.

anyway, i was finally able to talk to my dad again. he admitted that, yeah, it was cancer, but they were going to "fix it, don't worry" and that "everything was going to be fine". except that wasn't the first time i had dealt with someone with a severe brain injury before; my best friend from high school had gotten sick a few years before and had, at that point a 15 year old's intellect. (she had a relapse a few years later, and now functions as, at best, a 12 year old)

over the course of the next two weeks, i talked to dad as often as she would allow him to answer the phone - about every other day, give or take. but one day, one particularly bad day, when dad was less with it than usual, in my desperation to talk about something, *anything*, no matter how mundane or stupid, i asked him what he'd had for lunch. small talk, something just to keep him from getting bored and hanging up the phone.

that bitch he was married to assumed that i was accusing her of starving him, apparently, because she suddenly *shrieked* from the background, "what the fuck is that supposed to mean? of course i'm feeding him!!!" and then hung up the phone.

i called back right away, but when dad answered, he said that *she* didn't want me talking to him anymore if I was "just going to accuse her of bullshit". i tried to explain that i was just trying to make small talk, because i loved him and wanted to talk, but she just screamed in the background, and dad finally said that i was "just making trouble" and that *she* would "have me arrested for trespassing if I *dared* to show up in that entire fucking *county*!" and finally that, "maybe i should just not call ever again," since i was such a horrible person and all. i asked him if that was what he really wanted.

he said yes.

he said goodbye

he hung up.

those were the last words i ever spoke to my father, or him to me.

and every march 28th, i remember that.

i loved my dad a lot growing up. he was always larger than life and he was everything i ever wanted to be. he didn't beat on my sister and i like mom did. he would sneak us poptarts after bedtime on nights mom would send us to bed without dinner. he would take me to work with him sometimes, so i could see all the neat things he did. he would take me down to his woodworking shop and teach me those things all the time, too. he taught me construction and remodeling.

this was also the man, though, that lied to me about marrying that bitch one weekend, two years after mom died when i was a teen.... saying that he and *she* were just going to spend the weekend together to "work things out" since their relationship - started pretty much the same month mom died when i was in high school, but kept secret until i got home from a post-graduation cross-country trip in july - had been rather rocky. *she* "loved" him, but she *hated* me because I was a "scary witch that her entire family was terrified of".

i had come out as pagan when i turned 18. but my "dark hoodoo magic" was "out to get her" or something, so she would be living with us for a few months, then she would move out because she was "scared" again. that shit went on for the three years of college i managed to get. until she gave dad an ultimatum: *her* or me. so dad...

he told me to be ready to move out in two weeks. *she* "would not live in the same house as me anymore," so i had two weeks to find somewhere to go.

except a few days later, *she* said fuck it and moved out, anyway, with "no intention to ever return." well, good riddance, said i, and figured that meant that i wouldn't have to leave.

except on the friday of that two weeks, dad brought home a u-haul and said that he needed to take it back on sunday morning, so i had that long to pack my shit and get it out, otherwise, he'd throw the rest in the trash.

my sister came to my rescue and gave me a room in her rented farmhouse. and for decades, i resented that fucking bitch my dad was married to for everything that happened. she died of cancer last year, and i went outside and *danced* in the moonlight the night i found out. i danced and i sang and i howled like a coyote and prayed with every fiber in my being that it hurt and she suffered every bit as much as my mother had suffered while she had fought cancer the whole last three years of my high school years, before she finally died.

what i didn't pray for, but what i did receive, was *clarity*.

yeah. *she* was a first rate fucking bitch. *she* destroyed my life in so. many. fucking. ways. i am glad that *she* is dead, and i still do hope that *she* suffered.

but at every single chance my dad had, at every single point that it came up...

he chose *her*.

it's only been within these last six months or so that... that the rose tint i imposed on aspects of my childhood has been wearing off. i always knew that dad wasn't perfect. no one is. but those times dad snuck us poptarts? why didn't he keep mom from beating us and sending us to bed without dinner in the first place? not beating on us himself? why didn't he just... not let mom beat us? taking me to work? was because they didn't want to pay for a babysitter. yeah. i was a latchkey kid, but even our neighbors probably would have thrown a fit at leaving a child my age unattended for *that* long on a weekend when he was on call. teaching me woodworking in his shop? he never invited me down; i just followed him. i learned by watching. not because he *taught* me. learning remodeling and construction? he needed another set of hands, and my sister was already off doing high school and college things; i wasn't so i may as well be useful. my college fund was spent on mom's medical bills. dad later told me that he "didn't think i'd need it anyway". that it was "obvious i'd never get that far in life without him paying off the profs." that he was "so proud that i proved him wrong," when i became a full time, professional firefighter.

this is the first time i have every written some of this down. i've *said* most of this to one person in the last few months, as it has... slowly occurred to me. but i have never written it down and reread the words and *accepted* them.

my father was not the man i thought he was.

i used to blame my mother for pretty much all of the trauma from my childhood. gods know she gave us plenty. but i'm finally to a point in my life that i can accept that... she wasn't the sole progenitor of it. that the man i pretty much modeled my life around... was just as responsible.

so... happy birthday, dad. i used to hope that i made you proud. at least a little. but i think i am finally to the point where i don't care if i did, or i didn't.

because you weren't the dad i thought you were. and just once. just one. fucking time.

i wish you would have chosen *me*.

[tame-the-lion-writes]

cat shifter reader x task force 141

(An AU to the AU--based on an ask and the results of this poll.)

No more guns a-blazing or cruel glory. The 141 had their time in the military; now, it was time to slow down.

Of course, when one sticks with the same people for half their life, through thick and thin, there is no going back. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb--and the 141 had spilled enough blood together that it practically ran through each others veins. They were inseparable, bound in both trauma and trust, and to part would dissolve the only stability they'd shared. Snip away red strings wrought both in shared drinks and on the battlefield.

What they didn't expect was the addition of you.

In deciding to retire, the 141 bought an old farm in the backcountry. A weary, rickety place that was practically begging for renovations. The busy work gave them something to do with already-rough hands, so they didn't mind--taking care of the animals, replacing the rotting wood, and updating the plumbing simply meant they could make the place their own. And after the house was fixed up, they got to updating the barn, fixing up a chicken coop, installing new fencing, etc.

It was also during these renovations that they got to know the stray cat who'd been living in the barn attic.

Feral--they first thought. Plenty of farm cats were, and the place had been long unlived-in that they believed no one could have socialized or cared for her. Not to mention that she'd been so riled up with them around; hissing from behind walls, or above while balancing on the beams. Jutting her paws out and trying to scratch them while they worked. They always knew where she was by the jingle of the bell around her neck, tied with a soft silk ribbon as though she were someone's pet let loose. Left on the roadside maybe, and for that, they didn't blame her.

But for the most part, she only occupied the second floor of the barn, and she kept the place free of rats and mice. They couldn't have those running around, so for the most part, they stayed out of her way. And she learned to stay out of theirs.

Until she got sick.

"Haven't seen the kit in a while," Gaz finally spoke, poking at the leftover stew in his bowl. It was already dinner when everyone was winding down for the night, and their beloved foe had been missing for three days. "I'm getting worried."

"I'm sure she's fine," Soap reassured him, shoveling another spoonful in his mouth. "Maybe ran off to the woods or somethin'."

"But it's been rainin' plenty lately," Gaz pressed. "You'd think she'd hole up in the attic per usual."

"We can check in the morning," Price sighed, adjusting himself in his seat. "'Sides, wouldn't do any good to be missin' a barn cat--"

"Tonight."

Soap lifts his head to squint over at the man by the sink. "Didn't take ya for a cat person, LT."

"Wanna make sure the mangy thing ain't dead." Ghost drops his dishes with an ceremonial clink-clink-clink. "Would stink up the place."

But when they finally made their way up the sketchy ladder to the barn attic, and they finally pushed aside all the dusty boxes and rusty equipment, what they found wasn't a cat but a young woman--face red with fever and tangled deeply, restlessly, in worn blankets and stolen clothes. Unknown and without ID--save for the bell around her neck, tied with a soft silk ribbon.

_

Bonus Thoughts:

It's quickly determined that you're only suffering from a regular cold, but on the verge of winter, the barn is no place to stay warm. Hence a quiet moment of deliberation between the boys, standing around, not knowing what to do. Also not knowing if their first assumption--that this is their fussy barn cat--is possible. In any case, they can't just leave you here.

Ghost is relegated the duty of carrying you down the very sketchy ladder (as he is with carrying most things). But not before Price wraps you up like a burrito, in case you wake up and decide to try and scratch again.

"'Mangy thing,' huh, LT?"

"Hope you know she's gettin' your bed."

[janeyseymour]

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- part 9

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8.

Summary: Family court is a nightmare. But all nightmares come to an end.

WC: ~2.45k

You toss and turn all night, and when you finally fall into a fitful sleep, your alarm goes off. You already hate today. But still, you roll out of bed and head into your daughter’s room. She’s sound asleep, curled up with her favorite stuffed animal and snoring quietly. You take a few extra minutes, minutes you know you probably don’t have to waste, to just sit by your little girl and pray. You pray for a long life of just you and her finally finding your happiness. You pray that she never loses what small pieces of innocence she has back. You pray to God that you get her as far away from Carrie as possible- that maybe… maybe you find happiness in a new life with Melissa and Barbara to help you raise this sweet little gift from God.

Brushing a few stray hairs away from her face, you smile gently. God, Millie is perfect- there is not one thing you would change about her. Because even when it comes down to it, and she is a child who has her moments, Amelia has the biggest heart, the warmest smile, and the sweetest soul that could touch anybody who has the absolute blessing of meeting her.

“Millie Mill,” you whisper as you shake her shoulder gently. “Baby girl, it’s time to rise and shine.”

“Momma?” a sleepy voice almost whines.

“Yeah, sweetness, it’s Momma,” you chuckle. “Who else would it be?”

“Mel,” your daughter shrugs as she cracks an eye open.

“Well, I can smell breakfast being made downstairs, and I just woke up,” you chuckle. “Why don’t we go see what Mel is making?”

Your little girl sits up and rubs at her eyes sleepily, but then she does make for the kitchen.

Melissa, fully dressed and made up for the day, is standing by the stove making a spread that could feed three families, and Millie is quick to wrap her arms around the woman’s waist. “Melly,” she mumbles sleepily.

You see the redhead tense for a quick second before she relaxes and drops a gentle kiss to your daughter’s head. “Hey Mill.”

“Sleepy. I don’ wanna go to court today,” your daughter sighs.

Melissa grimaces slightly. “I know hun. But you gotta if you wanna stay with your momma. And Mel and Barb will be there for you too.”

“Auntie Barb,” Millie sighs softly, but just loud enough for both of you to hear. Both yours and Melissa’s eyes widen at that first word- that powerful word.

“Yeah, hun,” the redhead finally starts again. “Go sit at the table with your momma. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Your little girl comes and sits right in your lap, content to get in a few extra cuddles this morning. The teacher of the house brings over all of the platters and a fresh mug of coffee for you.

“Thank you,” you sigh quietly.

Melissa smiles at you. “Of course.” Breakfast is eaten in a stiff silence for the first time in a long time, and when it comes time to start getting ready, the redhead swoops in again. She takes Millie to get her ready while you prepare yourself for what you can only assume is going to be a long and hellish day of fighting for your little girl.

And then Barbara shows up in her own car and escorts you to the courthouse. The four of you find your way in and sigh.

Carrie fights. Carrie fights hard, and she fights dirty. She fully intends on throwing you under the bus and winning this fight.

Her first claim is that she is Millie’s biological mother. And that is a true fact. But your lawyer argues that you are just as much Millie’s mother as Carrie- your name is on that birth certificate too. Your lawyer argues that blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb in this case- you take care of Millie, not Carrie.

Then she tries to argue that you won’t be able to support your daughter fully financially. Your lawyer disputes that argument and states that finances wouldn’t be an issue for you because spousal support does indeed exist for this exact circumstance. He then looks to Melissa, who stands, much to your surprise. But she has a knowing look on her face, and you can only assume that she and her buddy had orchestrated for this to happen.

“Your honor,” Melissa starts, and she already sounds much more formal than you’ve ever heard her before. “Y/N and Amelia won’t have to worry about finances, as they haven’t been troubled in that area for the months that they’ve lived with me. There hasn’t been any support from Carrie since the separation, and I do believe that this side of the party has been just fine- better than fine. I am happy to continue housing them and help to ensure that Millie is taken care of.”

“Thank you, for that,” the judge raises a brow. It’s clear he’s considering what the redhead stated.

And finally, Carrie attempts to claim that Millie needs two stable parental figures in her life- that she and the new boyfriend (apparently you ‘turned her straight’) would be able to provide much better for her than just you. The judge’s brow goes up, but his lip quirks in a way that you see he is definitely leaning towards joint custody. Your lawyer glances to you, and then he stands.

“Your honor, I think that since this is in regard to the child’s wellbeing, we should have Millie speak.”

“Your honor, she’s seven,” Carrie’s lawyer points out.

“And seven is old enough to know who she should want to live with for a majority of the time- to keep her within the parameters of her school, where she is quite happy,” your lawyer objects.

“Very well,” the judge mutters. He clears his throat, and he calls Millie to him.

Your little girl has never looked smaller standing next to him.

“Hi, sweetheart,” the gruff judge turns warmer when addressing your child, and you are eternally grateful for that. “Millie, yes?”

Millie nods her head and squeaks out a “yes”.

“Can you tell me about the times when you lived with both of your mothers?”

Your little girl does. She details the typical day that the she lived- from waking up with you and giggling, to going to school with you, to you picking her up, she’d make dinner with you, you would read with her or watch television with her, it was you who would help her with homework, it was you who told her to get in the shower and start getting ready for bed, you were the one who tucked her in at night and read her a story.

“And… Millie, where was your other mother during all of this?” the judge cuts in softly.

Your little girl shrugs. “I dunno.”

“That’s not true, Mill,” Carrie tries to butt in, but the judge holds up a hand.

“That’s not the end of my days though,” your daughter says softly. When the judge prompts her to continue, she details how she would hear the berating at night, the slaps and pleas for Carrie to stop, the crashing of furniture and decor.

“And who was the cause of that?”

Millie doesn’t even say Carrie’s name- just points to her with a frown. “She hurt Momma. And she tried to hurt m-”

“Amelia!” Your soon to be ex-wife leaps out of her chair and points an accusatory finger. “You stop telling lies right this instant, young lady!”

“I- I’m not,” Millie whispers to the judge. “I promised not to lie, and I don’t break promises. That would be bad.”

“I believe you, honey,” the judge promises your daughter. “Can you tell me about the days now that you’re living with your Momma and Melissa?”

The day that your daughter details in regards to living with her teacher are much brighter- full of more love and smiles. She lets the judge know that she adores living with you and Melissa. Her days start with you waking her, Melissa cooking a delicious breakfast, driving to school with the redhead and singing songs, loving always having you pick her up on time, eating dinner together and actually enjoying meal times, bedtime… She tells the judge about the day she was sick, and Melissa stayed home with her while you went to work but when you came home she was given so much love. It’s clear to everybody in the room, including Carrie, which life Millie likes more.

“That sounds like quite a fun time living with Melissa,” the judge quips thoughtfully. “I have one more question for you.”

“Yes?”

“If you were given the choice of who to live with, who would you go to?”

Your daughter doesn’t even hesitate. “Momma and Melly.”

You feel Melissa reach forward and squeeze your shoulder gently from her place, but you also hear Carrie begin to shout. She flies off the handle and tells the judge that everything the little girl said was lies- orchestrated lies that you trained your daughter to say. 

The judge doesn’t like that one bit, and Carrie’s lawyer even tries to get her to simmer down.

“Mr. Judge, sir,” Millie whimpers quietly. “I- I don’t want to go to M-Mom and her boyfriend… I- I’m scared.”

The judge glances to Carrie, but at this point, she’s lost it. The woman that you used to call your life partner rushes to Millie and grabs her roughly by the arm. She begins shouting at her, shaking her, telling her that she is such an ungrateful little-

She’s torn away from the stand by one of the security guards and hauled out of the room, much to the dismay of her lawyer. He knows in that instant that he’s lost the case entirely. You’ve won. There’s no way she didn’t just put the nail in her own coffin with that little stunt. Millie, not caring that she’s supposed to stay side by side with the judge flies into your arms. You soothe her the best that you can as she climbs into your lap and buries her face in your shoulder. The little girl reaches for Melissa too, who very quickly leans forward and begins to shush your daughter gently, running her hand over Millie’s shoulder and wild locks.

The rest of what the judge has to say is a blur, but you hear the gavel slam down, and Millie, Barb, and Melissa are hugging you with such ferocity that you know you won. You have sole custody of your sweet ray of sunshine.

The next thing that you can clearly comprehend is being shuffled out of the courtroom and into the Howard van with Millie on your hip and smiling into your shoulder while Melissa holds your free hand gently.

“You won,” Melissa whispers as she pulls you in close and daringly presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “Congratulations, hun. I knew you would.”

The kindergarten teacher smirks at that action. But then she too is offering her congratulations, and you can’t help but grin.

“I’d say this calls for a celebratory dinner,” Melissa states. “Whatever the two of you want. Barbara, you’re more than welcome to come. Invite Gerald too.”

“Ger is gonna come?” Millie’s head lifts from your shoulder, and she smiles brightly.

Barbara, who was fully intending on heading home and leaving the three of you to have a ‘family’ night, can’t find it in her to deny your little girl of her wish. “Of course. Let me call Gerald now, and we can pick him up on the way.”

“What’s on the menu tonight?” the redhead asks the two of you.

“Whatever Mill wants,” you grin. “Whatever my little girl wants.”

“Melly, can you make your meatballs?”

The kindergarten teacher has to bite back a laugh at your daughter calling Melissa by the one nickname she’s always notoriously hated. “Yeah, Melly. Can you?”

“Sure, Barbie.”

Dinner is… it’s exactly what you had always hoped your life would be when you were growing up. You might not have the perfect spouse, or even a spouse at all anymore. But you have your beautiful daughter, one who is happier than ever. You have your family, and it may not be the conventional family- but they’re family. Barbara Howard, Gerald Howard, and Melissa Schemmenti are family to you more than your actual family. They’ve been here for you through the toughest of times, and they’re only going to continue to support you in life. It may not be the most conventional family, but it’s family. It’s an ordinary family dinner where everybody is a little drunk on happiness, and that’s all you could ever wish for- happiness.

It’s an early night for your little girl. She falls asleep on you not thirty minutes into settling on the couch, splayed out over you and Melissa. Barbara and Gerald make their way out once they’ve finished their glasses of the champagne that they bought the night before- they knew you would be celebrating today.

The redhead’s arm makes its way around your shoulders again, and you can’t help but rest your head on her shoulder. It’s warm, it’s comfortable, and it’s something that just feels so natural to do.

“I know I said it before,” Melissa sighs softly. “But congratulations.” She presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you tell her honestly. “I- I really don’t think I would’ve been able to have the courage without you by my side.”

“You would’ve,” the second grade teacher tells you quietly. “I know you would’ve.”

“Well,” you turn to look up at her. “Still. Thank you.”

You stretch up to kiss her cheek, and then you linger there for a few seconds. Her eyes meet yours, and then they glance down at your lips. You think she might kiss you, and your heart begins to beat out of your chest.

But she doesn’t. Melissa knows that today left you rather vulnerable, and she doesn’t want to take advantage of you in this state. If she does ever make her move on you, she wants you to be stable and healed, and ready. And right now, you aren’t ready. And that’s okay for her. She’ll wait.

She smiles warmly at you before looking down at the little girl asleep in your laps. “I think this could be the perfect start to your new life.”

“This is all I could ever want,” you whisper. And then you close your eyes, and you drift off into the easiest sleep you’ve gotten in years. 

AND THAT IS A WRAP ON THIS FIC- I HOPE YOUSE ENJOYED IT! Theres definitely a possibility of this little world continuing on, but for now... that's all folks!

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[zannolin]

there's just something about the pevensies after narnia.

they're closer than they should be. like—though it's not always accurate, people expect you to be close with your siblings. but it's different, with them. they're closer than even siblings usually are by rights. they may fight within themselves, but they always put on a united front against anyone else. they're closed off to others, always angling themselves with their shoulders inwards, backs turned against the world, faces towards each other. they look to peter and susan for approval in turn. the elder ones listen to the younger in ways most siblings never would. it's almost comical, seeing peter seriously asking a nine-year-old lucy her opinion as though it's the most important thing in the world—and it is, to him.

they get to narnia again and where once peter might have been annoyed at edmund for not mentioning his torch sooner, he just laughs and grins and edmund grins back. this is what they do now. caspian watches peter take edmund's counsel into consideration when writing the challenge offer, and lucy talks to the others like an equal even when edmund's ruffling her hair the very next second just to make her squeal. he doesn't know if this is what all families are like—he's never had a normal one himself—but there's something about it. something that runs deeper than any bond he's ever seen. people say blood is thicker than water. the full saying, however, is this: the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. the pevensies are orbiting stars, bound by both and more at once.

[ventique18]

I know there are some people who don't think Malleus and Silver have a sibling relationship. And that's fine because there was never any explicit statements in-game that says so. But from everything that happens in Book 7, I think that's pretty much what the writers and Yana intended: that they're brothers born from different parents but nourished by the same man. "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

Some people might say that they don't act like brothers, but not all siblings treat each other like what's commonly accepted. Malleus was already grown when Silver came to their lives, so it would be very hard for them to joke around as if they're siblings with two years of age difference between them. This is anecdotal, but I myself am the youngest of siblings, with the older one 15 years ahead of me. I don't joke around with them because when I developed my brain enough to think properly, they were already well past the rambunctious age. Our relationship has always been built on respect and seniority.

And that's how Malleus and Silver's relationship is. Silver looks up to Malleus and wants to reciprocate everything he's done for him, and Malleus still thinks of Silver as a baby he needs to protect. Maybe this is not ideal, and maybe this isn't the healthiest, but for all their faults they care deeply for each other. So much that they get mad on behalf of each other, they get jealous of each other, they would go to extreme lengths for each other. Like what siblings do. They just don't know how to express it properly, because there's an unspoken wall between them: the simple fact that they didn't come from the same womb. And this is exactly what Book 7 intends to address.

[planet-dusk]

Ghost!pirate!hongjoong who follows you around after you visited the museum his ship wreck ruins were being displayed at. He just follows you around and helps you when you need to, gets inside your dreams and eats you out till you have to get up but sometimes tells you stories about his crew and old times, who also really dislikes your bff who he sees as someone he should get rid off bc he just looks at you in a irritating way

He is just trying to protect you, dont try to stop him, you wont be able to anyways

🏷️ kim hongjoong x fem!reader. cw ; yandere!hongjoong, ghost!hongjoong, dub/noncon, somnophilia, oral (f), fingering, edging, possessive and other toxic yandere behavior ( 470 w. )

minors dni. for mature audiences only !

you're not sure where the pirate who keeps showing up in your dreams came from, but on some days you swear he almost feels real. you've got used to his presence (sometimes even looking forward to it) but even after all those months there's something about his lazy, calculating smile that makes your blood run cold.

at night you wake with his dark head of hair between your legs, tongue already parting your folds and your slick dripping down his chin. he never does anything more than that: eats you out until your legs are shaking, then disappears into thin air, leaving you aching and empty. no matter how much you beg his shining eyes never change, never give in.

you like the tales about his old crew (where are they now? he doesn't tell and you don't dare ask), and the way his face lights up when he talks about his members almost makes him look human. 8 makes one team. the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. stories from another time, so vivid it's as if you're there with them. it's easy to get lost in him. you're going out less often these days, heading home after work as soon as you can because you know he might be waiting for you. his visits aren't limited to the nights any more, even though he's unreliable and flaky; sometimes he doesn't show up for days at a time, sometimes he stays with you for hours.

it only makes you more eager to stay home and wait for him. what if you go out and miss him? he might get angry again, it wouldn't be the first time, waking you with his fingers deep inside your cunt for seven nights straight — and removing them right before you could reach your peak. every time you fell asleep he'd wake you up, turning you into a begging mess. the dark circles under your eyes grew with each passing night. there was no point in fighting him; he'd pinned your hands above your head when you'd tried to relieve yourself, surprising strength in such a lithe body.

and on the seventh night, when he was finally satisfied with your sobs, he'd kissed you for the first time and told you the salt on your cheeks reminded him of the sea, his first love. he'd never thought he'd find someone as pretty as her until fate had brought you together.

"you're mine, and mine alone. don't you ever forget it." he'd reinforced his words by finally, finally letting the waves of sweet bliss overtake you.

slowly, hongjoong draws you away from your coworkers. your friends. your family. even your best friend. the only thing on your mind is him, the only one you need in life: your captain.

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.

[thunder-wolf64]

Child of green and mother of red

Thy paths converge and must diverge

Or innocents blood will be bled

Should red be given access to thy purge

But green hath given a choice of fate

To avenge thy companion whom red brought to their tomb

Remember well, the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb

Mourner of green and monster of red

Take control of fates weaves and thread

Thy choice is yours, heed not your dread

Chieftain of green and outlaw of red

By the end of it all, one shall be dead

Beautiful poetry! I did try to write some parallels into these two, so it's really cool to see it in your writing!

Love this, thank you so much, this was very pleasant to see in my inbox :]]]]

[merakiui]

thinking,,,,, a very deranged concept in which you and floyd are in love and jade is the (silently) jealous twin cast aside. no one knows jade stalks you from afar, that he silently slips inside your shared home with floyd, that he doesn't do anything outrageously rash. he just watches and admires, burning the sight of your sleeping form into his retinas. it's harmless, really. just a passing infatuation stage, surely.

he's been stalking you for years, though. so maybe it's more than that. jade's certain it's just because you're interesting. because no one has ever stayed with floyd for this long before. floyd always grows tired of his romantic partners. surely your and floyd's relationship is fleeting.

but then floyd proposes and you say yes. and suddenly jade can't be happy with just watching. suddenly jade has to confront the fact that his brother and his beloved are getting even closer. soon you'll start a family. soon you'll grow old together. soon he will be forgotten. just your friendly, always polite in-law. never anything more.

he was content to wait it out, to swoop in when you and floyd inevitably break up. but now that will never happen. jade, who has always gotten everything he's ever wanted, can't have the one thing he's craved for years. you are forever out of his reach, snug and secure in floyd's arms.

jade, who has always been so meticulous and level-headed, takes it upon himself to right this very egregious wrong.

when floyd goes missing, everyone is shocked because it's so sudden. there's just a messy note. some nonsense about how he needs a break, how he doesn't want anyone coming after him, how he'll be back soon. you're confused and distraught. did the family business catch up to him? some bad people who were after him... you don't want to think that way! he wouldn't just leave in the middle of your engagement. he had been so thrilled to plan the wedding, to look at venues, to think up a fun menu... if something was truly bothering him, he'd talk to you about it. right? right? at least, that's what you tell everyone who asks. you have no idea where he's gone. no one does.

suddenly, it's as if he never existed at all. there's no trace of floyd. no one's seen him or heard from him. no one knows where he's gone. and as time passes you begin to think that floyd might never come home.

jade plays the part of the grieving brother well. oh, he's sick with concern. that's his only brother! whatever he's going through, surely it doesn't warrant a disappearance. :( oh, this is just terrible... he just wants his brother to come home.

jade's a great actor. an outstanding mimic. no one knows of the journal he keeps, every page filled with endless scrawls. it's obsessive practice. jade practiced floyd's handwriting to perfection until it was an exact copy. and then there are the notes he's made on floyd's habits, distinctions between the two of them.

the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. jade thinks so when he welcomes you, broken, devastated you, into his arms. it will be okay. he's here for you. they'll find floyd one day. one day he'll come home. one day you'll get your dream wedding.

until then, jade can be your floyd. :)

[ayeforscotland]

hi, i just wanted to say that i really appreciate your blog! irl i'm surrounded by so much bigotry and hatred, so it's nice to see that there are people who are normal about all this, if that makes any sense at all. especially in regards to trans people, my mum thinks gender-affirming surgeons should be locked up ffs

seeing a grown scottish man share the beliefs i do makes me feel like less of an immature teenager, if that makes sense. all of the adults in my life are so bigoted it really feels like the only people that i can be safe with is other teenagers online.

so to have someone who lives in the same country as me and be a full grown adult be so accepting and cool about this sort of thing is nice. especially when things seem to get more hostile towards trans people like myself every day. you give me hope in a way

i feel so unbelievably cheesy typing all this out but i just needed to show my appreciation towards you in some way and figured this was the best way to do this

have a nice night if you're seeing this shortly after it's sent. if you've already gone to bed, good morning and i hope you slept well :]

That’s super kind of you, and I’m glad my blog can offer a bit of an escape especially if your home situation is quite intense.

Blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb and all that. Over the years a lot of people have become good friends with people through my blog which makes me happy👍

Oh, and I slept okay. I’m in the middle of Next Fest which is pretty stressful. I’m working on a game that’s participating and I’m trying to play as many demos as I can so pretty tired😅

[the-badger-mole]

On the Unredeemed

Unredeemed villains are important in fiction. I feel like that needs to be said. There is a trend in recent years (probably since Wicked became a hit) of people wanting to see monsters redeemed. I'm not against that (per-se... glowers in Maleficent), but also, I feel like we do lose something when we lean into the idea that the monster gets to make good.

Fiction can be really useful for teaching us about life. I remember seeing a quote some time ago on Pinterest or something that said something along the lines of "fairytales are important not because they tell us dragons are real, but because they tell us that dragons can be slayed". That has been on my mind a lot recently when I see discussions about characters like Azula and (more recently) Ozai. They are fictional characters with super magic fire powers, but they represent something real- they represent the cycle of abuse in families, and while I understand the impulse to absolve someone as young as Azula, I think it's also important to tell the story where she isn't redeemed.

One reason that most Azula redemption stories bother me is because of the responsibility they tend to place on Zuko as her older brother, despite the fact that she victimized him probably more than anyone in her life (that we get to see. I don't think her soldiers believed her death threat for no reason). There are plenty of stories about the victims of abuse needing to be the bigger person to keep their families together and being villainized when they don't (I think by now we all understand that Terri was not the villain of Soul Food). We need stories about knowing when it's okay to walk away, and that illustrate the idea that "the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb".

In a time when more people are talking openly about going low contact or completely cutting off family members- close family members- I personally think that seeing stories about coming out of the other side of it, of building a new family, healing from the past, and dealing with the residual guilt that comes with "turning your back on family" even when it's the right call, is helpful in the same way that those fairytales about slayable dragons are.

I'm not saying any of this to discourage Azula redemption stories. In fact I would love to see more. Stories that have Azula confronting what she did to the people she should have loved most, and have her considering what to do with the knowledge going forward, instead of just using her past abuse and mental health to gloss over the real harm she did. I want to see her grappling to accept the fact that no one- not her brother, not Iroh, not her friends- owes her forgiveness, and then dealing with all the complex emotions that come with just one of them actually forgiving her. But also, I want to see stories where Zuko gets to let go of his father and sister and go on to be supported in that decision. Because to him, they were dragons, and they were slain.

[besttropeveershowdown]

The Best Trope Ever Showdown: FINALS

Found Family

Propaganda:

Well all know it, we all love it

the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb

Forming a bond with friends or strangers so deeply they become your family!!! Choosing the people you want to support you, to be your backbone, to care for you and be cared for by you in return!

literally the experience! characters may not come from the best past but they grow together and give each other the support that they can't get otherwise. the attachments that form are usually amazing and I guess just. yeah! + platonic/doesn't need romance involved which I guess is a plus for myself???

Because its so cute! It's sweet, and kind, and forgiving, and just asdfghjk its just the best. Without FF we wouldnt have shows like The Owl House so think about that okay?

I mean, come on. A pair or group of people that know little about or nothing about each other become fiercely protective and loving towards the others. They consider each other family through shared experiences and traumas, loving and caring for each other as if they were kin.

Battle Couple

Propaganda:

Two people fighting side by side, or back to back, trusting the other to have their back, even while bickering. Amazing. And if they kiss, surrounded by enemies… perfection ❤️❤️❤️

Reformed, but Not Tamed

They're not Evil anymore. But like, they're also not Nice really. Still a jerk about it. (No TVTropes page submitted)

Propaganda:

All the coolness of a redeemed villain but without losing the spicy villain jerk charisma they had before. Often called The Vegeta. Get to have your cake and eat it too.

who doesn't love a villain kinda sorta turning good but being annoyed about it the whole time

We all love it when the bad guy joins the Plucky Team of Heroes because it is a) hilarious or b) reaaaaally interesting character dynamics, and "reformed but not tamed" is the superior way to achieve this. You get all the fun of having the bad guy join the team WITHOUT having to sand down everything that MAKES the bad guy interesting. In this house, we like a "domestication" arc more than a "redemption" arc. He's still an awful little shithead, but now he's OUR awful little shithead.

[fortisseto]

I enjoy projecting onto different Falsettos characters like there is no tomorrow (within reason), but my most favourite thing to ponder is Jason's entire life up until we saw the story end!

- Kids who resent their parents tend to hate any and all associations with them (me), but Jason looks like Marvin. Acts like Marvin. Could grow into Marvin. That's a scary thought considering how Trina and Jason had been afraid of Marvin for so long, and he doesn't want to turn out like the asshole his father was or be in pain like his mother was. What do we do? Distance. Create distance. Don't look into the eyes you share with the monster, because that is where you will see the monster in its truth.

- Bouncing off of that, I wonder how many nights Marvin spent away where Trina would look at Jason and pretend to see Marvin sitting in that chair with just the attributes of his face. probablyyy the pain doubling down with the fact that she and Marvin made him together, so she has to see herself in him too. No matter what beautiful traits he takes from her, they won't seem as pretty in the moment.

- The way Whizzer serves as Jason's friend as well as his father's. Jason is very asocial and didn't make much of any friends, and this is something I mentioned in my fic, so I'll do it here- part of Jason's Immaturity, I feel, comes from seeing his parents as friends more than mother and father (to define "friend" and "parent," especially as an autistic person, is incredibly difficult). To Jason, Marvin is kind of like a pen-pal or a long distance relationship: there's still some kind of barrier between you no matter how "into" each other's lives you are. Jason is immature (obviously), so his perception is closer to "so why can't you just close the distance?" But, Jason doesn't want anything to do with his father once he tries waltzing back into his life when he didn't have anything else. I don't even exactly know what friend I'd define Trina as, but even including Mendel and Cordelia and Dr Charlotte, they all seem to be friends before they're much of anything else. That's because they're all strange as fucking hell

At like, ten/eleven years old, you shouldn't have a reason to think about it so large scale, but Jason was presented his affair with Whizzer at that time, and that will always be the age where one starts to question just about everything. That's what our formative years are for. Out of all social relationships, the one man he continuously chooses to be friends with is his father's own ex-lover. I sometimes wonder what makes Whizzer his best friend? Well, friends are chosen, not premade. However, as a ten year old boy, that isn't something you ponder. regardless, "the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb" for a reason, and no matter how many friends Jason has, Whizzer was the first that wasn't made by his mother or father for him.

Long story short, stone me in the town square if I'm wrong. I should go rewatch Falsettos before I drown in the sea odnmy own obsession

[specialagentartemis]

deeply tired reminder that the proverb “blood is thicker than water” has been used in the English language since the 1600s, and its ultimate origins may be from the 1100s; the longer version that tumblr likes, “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” is first attested in a book from the 1990s by a “Messianic Rabbi” with no sources. It’s literally prefaced by “Warning: The truths contained in the following teaching are not for the faint of heart, or the lukewarm! You can be sure that haSatan (the adversary) will do all he can to keep you from understanding and applying the concepts and truths contained herein”. The whole covenant framing is being used here to justify a “Jews for Jesus” interpretation of Judaism. It’s not “original” in any sense. The idea of blood covenants is a very old one, but there's no evidence that that's what that proverb refers to at all, and certainly not in those specific words (and this guy never even claimed that the specific words were original, just the sense of them). And the Brothers Grimm even suggested the "water" being referred to in the phrase was the water of baptism.

You are not obligated to like the sentiment expressed by “blood is thicker than water.” You don’t have to agree with proverbs. You are perfectly allowed to like the sentiment of “ the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb” better. But it is not in any way “authentic” or the “real” version, and it was not corrupted into the common version. Please.