#all i want is a prayer circle she WILL as she said only be here for three weeks and then fuck right off again

[ayyponine]

The way my sister's arrival here is still over two weeks off but the nightmares are back already. I KNOW im gonna be in the fucking trenches

[serotosin]

Cockwarming w Sevika

(would like to add this is only my second time writing anything NSFW so no i am not the best and the more i reread this the more i hate it so here i am posting it before i hate it too much, anyways enjoy ya little sevika enthusiasts)

It started with you coming into sevika’s space, desperate for attention and it ended with her annoyed and you sat on her lap with the strap buried deep inside you, she was annoyed at you’re bothersome antics and desperate attempts for attention and this was your punishment.

Her grip on your hips were unyielding and every small movement never escaped her notice.

“Quit moving.” She warns in a low tone as she delivers a small warning smack to your thigh, yet her eyes never look up from what she’s doing

She doesn’t see the need in your eyes, the furrow of your brows, the way your bottom lip is stuck between your teeth as you bit it. She didn’t have to look at you to know what your expression was.

“Sevika..please-“ Your pleas gets cut short as Sevika raises a brow and looks up at you with a silent warning in her eyes

“I said no. You’re going to sit here and warm this cock like a good girl, okay?” Sevika responds in a cold tone but you didn’t miss the lust in her eyes as she looked back at her task

You bit back the urge to whine or whimper as you knew the better you listened the more likely you were to get what you wanted…but the feeling of being so full, the tip pressing against all the right places even with each unintentional movement was making your need harder to contain.

Minutes passed and to you it felt like hours, you were so needy you started to try and subtly shift your hips, just a little as you were desperate.

“What did I tell you?” Sevika says as her grip on your hips grows increasingly tighter, she speaks through clenched teeth

“I couldn’t help it! This is torture!” You whine out as you grip onto your own thighs as you lean forward a bit, Sevika’s irritation makes her snap.

In one quick movement the stuff on top of the desk was thrown to the floor and she stood up, pushing the toy deeper into you as she pushed you with her and bent you over the desk, she didn’t wait to start snapping her hips into you, driving the toy into you over and over again as her hips slam against your ass.

“This what you wanted, Hm? To be fucked? Have this tight fucking hole ruined by me?” Sevika says through gritted teeth as she reaches a hand around to start circling your clit and the other hand grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking you back

“Y-yes…Fuck…yes!” You moan out your response as you had quickly became cock dumb, unable to focus on anything other than the way sevika fucks you and handles you

“Look at you, practically drooling over how i’m fucking you” Sevika reaches down and grabs your thigh, lifting it onto the desk so she can drive the toy deeper into your dripping cunt, squelching with each deep thrust

Your eyes were half lidded and to sevika, you had the most sluttiest expression she had ever seen and she was loving it, she started to rub your clit faster as she placed her free hand on the desk next to your head, her head dipping to place her mouth right next to your ear

“Be a good girl, Cum for me…all over my cock, c’mon baby…” Sevika coo’s into your ear, knowing that her sweet tone would send you over

You gripped the wood of the desk under you as you had felt your orgasm wash over you, your eyes rolled back and you arched your back down and pressed your chest against the cool material as you moaned out desperately, squeezing the toy so tightly as you came all over it, Sevika’s name leaving your lips like a prayer.

“Good girl…such a good girl for me..” Sevika slows her movements as she turns her head and places a soft kiss on your shoulder

Once your orgasm had passed she slowly slid out of you and took the harness off and set it aside, she sat back in her seat and pulled you with her, letting you curl up in her lap, your head laid on her shoulder as she ran her fingers through your hair

“You did so good for me, baby…I love you” Sevika whispers softly as she kisses your head then lays her cheek on top of where she just kissed

“I love you more” You mutter out as your eyes were already closing and sleep was soon taking over

[cassie48]

Ｄｏｎ’ｔ ｙｏｕ ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ?

(Dark!Paul Atreides x Sayyadina! Reader)

𝘈|𝘕; 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘶𝘭 𝘈𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 also 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰….

!Keep in mind all dialogue is in the native Fremen language. Also for this Jessica isn’t the reverend mother!

SMUT SMUT AND SMUT

———————————————————————-

You sat in the prayer room, whisperers escaping your mouth. Before, you prayed to the Shai-Hulud, but now? Now you pray for your messiah, who goes by the name of Paul Atreides.

As you knelt on the hard stone flour, you held your hands together. You were all alone in the room, the others had left for the night, but not you. You felt at peace here.

You were so devoted to your job, always seen praying or worshipping your new mahdi. You had created a strong bond with Lady Jessica. She had took you under her wing, appreciating your kindness and how you believed in Paul.

As you prayed you paused, hearing a noise near the entrance behind you, putting your hands down by your side, you turned, and saw no other than Paul Atreides watching you.

“Hello” he said smirking down at you.

“Lisan al-Gaib, forgive me I did not hear you” yous said scrambling to your feet and bowing slightly in fear and astonishment.

“No need to forgive me, I interrupted your prayer” he said walking closer to you.

You gulped, you had never had a one on one conversation with your messiah before and you didn’t really know what to say.

Paul noticed your nerves and spoke again “I came here to seek guidance” He said continuing to walk towards you.

“Oh, well the reverend mother would be best suited for that job Usul” You said trying your best to contain your anxiety.

“Oh god no, I couldn’t talk to her about this” He said smiling down at your small face.

“Oh” you said unsure what else you could say.

“May I confide in you instead?” He asked trying his best not to smirk.

“Oh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea, the elders wouldn’t be happy I’m just a sayyadina. You’d be best to speak with someone higher up” you said, surprised you managed to get the words out.

“I don’t care what the elders think” he snarled

Your eyes widened, not used to hearing someone disrespect the elders of your sietch. You swallowed, not knowing what to say.

“Forgive me, that came out the wrong way. I simply mean, the elders pray for me yes?” He said, knowing your answer.

“I- of course Usul” you said nervously.

“Then whatever I choose to do, they will stand by me. I know the way, you must understand that?” He said, now very close to you.

You felt like crying, how could you be so stupid, you had disrespected your Messiah. “I’m sorry” you whispered.

Paul took your right cheek in his hand, cupping it. “No apology is necessary, now may I speak with you” he said, dropping his hand.

Your cheeks grew red at his touch “of course, you can confide in me, I will try my best to help” you swallowed.

Paul took your hand, and led you to the centre of the room, and motioning you to sit down in the centre of the circle. You stopped, knowing you weren’t supposed to.

“I can’t sit here usul, it’s reserved only for the Reverend mother” you said, fear evident in your rushed words.

Your reverend mother had taken on the role about five years ago, when the previous one had passed away. She wasn’t pleasant whatsoever, and had a grudge against you that you never understood. Even though she was the reverend mother, she did not show much appreciation or belief for your Mahdi.

“Oh please, I don’t see her here, what’s the worst that could happen?” He said laughing lightly.

“No, really I’m not trying to disrespect you usul but I can’t” you said making it obvious you feared the thought of even doing it.

“Why are you so afraid?” He asked, his tone now sounding angry.

You bowed your head down, not wanting to say why, knowing that would be seen as disrespectful to the Reverend Mother.

“Tell me” he ordered.

“I- she’d punish me if she found out” you said, your words coming out so fast he barely heard them, but he did.

“Punish you?” He questioned, to which you nodded.

“How?” He barked.

“She, she hits me sometimes, when she says I’ve been disappointing” you say, holding back tears thinking of all the times she’s slapped or shoved you.

Paul said nothing for a moment, fearing if he did he’d scare you, he had never felt such rage before until now. To think someone had laid a finger on you. You were his, and if someone hurt you, he would hurt them back.

“How many times had this happened” he said his voice cold and demanding.

“I don’t really know, at least once or twice a month. She says I’m weak, and that I’ll never be good enough to be a sayyadina. That I should just give up” You said, tears now falling down your cheeks, silently.

Your head was still facing the floor, embarrassed to even look at Paul, in your state. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the touch of his hand. He wiped your tears. His hand was soft. How odd, a man that had killed thousands, and his hand felt soft. He slowly led you to sit down where you had been so scared to before.

“No need to cry, that won’t be happening anymore” he said making you lift your head in confusion.

“What, I don’t understand” you said, your eyebrows raised in confusion at his words.

“Do you know why I came here to confide in you” he asks, his hand still resting on your cheeks.

You nod your head no, he had never explained to you why he had sought you out in the first place.

“I did because, I had a vision” he began

Your eyes lit up in excitement and your heart raced. To think your Mahdi would tell you his vision firsthand made you feel special, something your rarely felt while being a Sayyadina.

“I had a vision of you, you were sitting in the sand, the sun on your skin.” He said, looking into the distance as he recollected the images of you in his head.

“M-Me?” You stuttered, completely taken aback

“Yes, you. You were by my side, my truthsayer, the empires truthsayer” He revealed, now looking down at your expression.

“Mahdi I- this cannot be true!” You said, your mouth wide open.

“You think me a fool? You think my visions are just hallucinations?” He questioned you.

“No! No! I believe you! You are Lisan Al-Gaib, I trust you. All I meant is, I don’t think I’m that important, I’m no where near as clever as some of the other sayyadina that are amongst us here” you said.

“You must believe in yourself” He said, feeling annoyed that you were so self-doubtful.

“It is hard when everyone around you tells you that you’re nothing” you said, offering him a sad smile.

“You are not nothing! You are everything” He said locking eyes with you

You filled, your cheeks reddening from his compliment

“You wanna know what else I saw in my vision?” He suddenly asked.

You nodded quickly, eager to know what else your messiah saw in your future.

“You stood with me, not just as my truthsayer, but as my wife” He said watching to see your reaction.

Your eyes widened further, if it were even possible, and your mouth moved to say something but nothing came out.

“You trust me right?” He asked scooting closer to where you were sitting.

You nodded, still not able to speak from the shock she was experiencing.

“So trust my visions” He said as he leant down even further his lips almost touching yours as he spoke once more

“Have you ever been kissed?” He questioned eager to hear your answer.

“No” you whispered, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Good girl” Is all he said as he leant in closing the very small gab between you two. He kissed you full force, passion lingering between you and him. He took his hand and placed it around the side of your head, trying to get as close to you as possible.

You finally began to kiss him back, once you had built up the courage, the whole experience was completely new to you. Most Sayyadina wait until they are “of age” to have any sort of relations with another Fremen.

You pulled away as fear entered you once more “usul I shouldn’t be doing this, I will be in trouble” you said your eyes glued to his feeling as though you had no control over how you were reacting.

“If anyone ever tells you what to do again I will kill them” is all he said as he kissed you again, this time more rough than the last.

He placed his hands around your side, pulling your body over to his, now plush against you.

You moaned, unknown sensations entering your body that felt extremely good. You felt him slightly push his knee into the gap of your legs and you found yourself moving your hips to meet it too.

He shoved his tongue into your mouth and you let him, his dominant personality showing.

The nice sensation you were felling grew when he pushed his knee further into your aching heat, now you felt it fully.

You moaned again, this time a lot louder than the last, again your body acted before you even thought of your actions. You rolled your hips against his knee and gasped when you felt utter satisfaction.

You broke away “what, what is this?” You asked as you moved your hips against his leg once again, not really knowing what you were doing, just knowing that you felt really good. You had never really been educated on sex, you knew it was something a couple did to conceive, but you didn’t know how it worked, or felt.

“It feels good, right” he asked you

You nodded after a moment, looking down between your legs where you saw his knee rubbed up against your core, that was covered by only the fabric your cloak, which was almost see through from the wetness that was leaving you.

“Then keep going, I wanna make you feel good” he said.

You said nothing else as he pushed his knee against you and you completely widened your legs again and your dripping heat now sitting on his leg as you grinded down, putting your head against his shoulder, as he held you.

“It feels s-so good usul” you whimpered as he held you tightly.

“Your doing so well, keep going” he said watching as you brought pleasure to yourself.

You now moved, almost entirely on his lap, and grinded down, moaning when he’d move his leg up slightly to help you out. He leaned down and locked lips with you again.

As you kissed him his hand moved down to where you eagerly wanted to feel nice, he first drew his fingers against your inside thigh, teasing you.

After he noticed it was working and you moved more desperately against him, he slowly brought his hand lower, to your core.

He moved his finger against your clit, smirking slightly as your eyes widened and your groans grew louder. Wanting to please you even further, he moved to place a finger inside you.

You tender up, the new feeling making you slightly embarrassed “usul?” She asked

“I need to prepare you before I make love to you” is all he said. You nodded fully trusting him.

You gripped into his shoulders tighter, muffling your moans, and he moved his finger in and out of your aching pussy.

He placed another finger inside when he noticed you were getting closer to your peak. You moved your hips down, meeting him halfway, as you muffled your moans once more, the pressure building upon in your lower tummy.

“Let all your sounds out. I want to hear. I want them to hear.” He said growing more possessive.

You cried out as you came undone, your juices going all over his fingers, he held you up with his free arm, letting you hold him as you came down fork your high.

He lifted his two fingers up and licked your juices off them, before laying you down and kissing you again, his tongue invading your mouth once more. Once he had you underneath him, he pulled off your long fabric down, that all Sayyadina must wear.

He smiled down at your naked body, you felt uncomfortable and insecure, no one had ever seen you naked before, you tried your best to cover yourself.

“Don’t hide yourself from me malak” he said making you blush. (Angel)

“I intend to know every part of you” he added and finally you removed your hands revealing your small but perky breasts.

Paul smirked down at the sight, you really did look beautiful. Laying down underneath him, ready to be claimed.

He slowly began to suck on your breasts, at first you found it odd, but then it started to feel nice, and you began sticking your chest up, wanting him to keep going.

He pulled away, making you slightly pout “don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll make you feel good soon” he promised.

He slowly began to move down your body, leaving kisses all over it as he did, and you smiled in satisfaction and love.

One he reached your pussy again, he guided your thighs away from each other and you swallowed, excited to fell nice again, but wondering what he was going to do to you.

He kissed the crease on the very inside of your leg, and you felt butterflies in your stomach, your legs moving impatiently.

He moved his head down even closer to your core, making your brows crease in confusion, wondering what he was about to do, but your eyes quickly widened, and your back arched when he placed his mouth onto your pussy.

He slowly licked it, collecting any of the remaining juices from your previous orgasm, before beginning to eat you eat, grabbing your thighs to keep you in place.

You yelled out, fidgeting as he nudged his nose against your bud. Your hands found his dark curls, and you tangled them within them.

You rolled your hips onto his face, that familiar pressure building up yet again “keep going please” you said smiling but it quickly dropped when he pulled away.

You were about to question him when he began to remove his own clothes and you sat waiting to see what he was going to do. Everything he had already done to you felt amazing and even seeing him without his clothes made you tingle inside once more.

He leaned over you, kissing your neck once more. You felt his hot breath on your skin. You wanted to fell even more of him.

“I’m gonna make you feel good ok? It might feel odd at first, but then it will feel amazing” he said cupping your cheek. You nodded, saying nothing else.

He slowly entered you, and you grasped onto him and you froze. This was not what you thought happened during sex.

“Usul?” You whimpered.

“Shh, your ok. Relax, it will feel nicer if you do” He told you, kissing your cheek gently.

You listen you his words and try to relax your body to the best ability you can. After a moment, he began to thrust in and out you.

Your mouth widened, you realised he was right. It did feel good, very good.

After a minute you began to move your hips with his, matching his rhythm. “Oh Usul” you cried holding onto him for dear life.

“I’ve got you baby” He said as he groaned as well, kissing down on your neck. He matched your noises and you two moved together at a perfect speed.

“You were made for me, all mine” he groaned as he hit your g spot, making you cry out.

“I’m yours” you whimpered

You continued to make loved for a few more moments, and you locked eyes with him, his bright now blue eyes, looked directly into yours.

You both began you became rougher, almost sat your peaks, you began to cry out “usul, I’m gonna-

You were cut off, a voice of a women you had heard all too many times. The voice of a women that had hurt you, physically and mentally.

“What is going on?!” The reverend mother yelled, fury written all over her features.

Paul ignored her for a moment, both of you reaching your peaks, and he spilled himself deep inside you, and waited a moment before pulling out, making sure none of his seed went to waist. He pulled his bottoms back up and kissed you lustfully, before placing your dress on top of your naked body, as you tried to stay conscious.

“I’ll just be a moment, my love” he said

He turned and the smile he had offered you, turned to a furious and hateful glare, seeing the woman who had hurt you multiple times enter the room.

Thankfully, she had entered the room when the two of you had finished, but she knew exactly what was going on due to the loud noises both of you had been letting out.

“What exactly do you think your doing!” The elder woman yelled out.

Paul’s angry expression grew “I’m claiming my wife to be” he said watching as her face grew more shocked and angry.

“She is not marrying you!” The woman yelled once more.

“She carries my child, I will be marrying her” Paul said proudly.

“You can’t know that yet!” She yelled annoyed.

“Yes I can, I’ve seen it. I’ve seen my beautiful wife sitting where you sit now, a child growing inside of her” Paul said, knowing he was annoying the woman further.

“I won’t allow it! I am the reverend mother” She said with a smirk.

“Not anymore” Paul said matching her smirk as he watched as her face dropped.

Paul grabbed a nearby Crysknife and slit the woman’s throat, watching emotionlessly as she bled out on the floor, and died.

A nearby Fremen guard eventually came to the scene “mahdi! What has happened to our Reverend mother?” He asked with shock and worry.

“She tried to kill me, I wish I didn’t have to do that, but she was going to stab me” Paul said, his acting extremely good and believable.

“Thank God you are ok! I will alert Stilgar of this incident” The man said running away.

Paul took one last look at the woman, before smiling and walking away. He knew his plan would work. People knew she never liked him, and so it would be believable that she had tried to kill him.

Once he returned to you, he knelt down, pulling your head into his lap, playing with your hair gently.

“What has happened Usul? Who’s blood is that?” You said with fear.

“You need not worry. Our Reverend mother has had an accident, but I have a replacement” Paul said stroking your face lovingly.

“Really, who?”you asked, shock all over your face.

“You” Is all he said, as he picked you up in his arms.

A|N; I’m a quite proud of this!

I hope you all enjoyed it :)

[kiyomitakada]

i know its a classic. possibly cliche already. but i do wonder about Tumblr In The Death Note Universe probably more than i should

2 notes

💅 toxicbff Follow

if i see one more post attributing kira's powers to ~supernatural powers~ instead of the obvious fact that the cia is doing a coup I'm going to start giving You the heart attacks

💅 toxicbff

of course i saw the news how does that not prove my point further

the idea that all the police around the world could be mobilized by one single person is ridiculous (just look at this list of how many civilian militia there are globally)

heart attack victims don't seize the way "lind l tailor" did

i don't know how to tell you that You Can't Kill People Just By Knowing Their Name And Face because this is Real Life and not the newest grimdark marvel villain

people need to stop being scared of the ~bogeyman in the closet~ and wake up to the fact that usamerica is trying to take over the goddamned world

💅 toxicbff

im going to kill you all and nuke this website

#sayonara you weeaboo shits

2,925 notes

👾 lets-go-geeks Follow

DO TRUMP NEXT

🕵🏾‍♀️ penny-penelope Follow

LIKES TO CHARGE REBLOGS TO CAST

16,375 notes

❤️‍🔥 lovesickened Follow

i know its stupid but im so fucking scared for my brother i heard that seven people died this week at the prison he's in and iinjust dont kenow what to do ihate him for ehat he did to mom but i never wanted him to die

#vent tw #delete later

0 notes

🏎 fastandyurious Follow

if i get a single more comment about why i don't tag "genderbend" on my kiratective fics i'm going to blow up the entire building. we don't know EITHER of their genders. why don't YOU tag your mediocre yaoi genderbend instead

🔆 sparkling-world Follow

…OP, you realize the news reports all consistently use "he," right?

🏎 fastandyurious

of course i do???? just because you see something on the news doesn't mean you have to believe it?????? they don't have any information on kira yet but i'm supposed to believe the fbi knows their gender already??????? also kira is literally a fucking girl's name my classmate in elementary school was called kira

🔆 sparkling-world

Kira comes from the Japanese romanization for "killer," it isn't gendered whatsoever.

Also, evidence shows the majority of serial killers are male, so I'd argue that the statistics favor the fujoshis here.

🏎 fastandyurious

well evidence shows that female serial killers are just more fun to write about and I'd argue that you're ignoring my fucking POINT which is that we DON'T KNOW KIRA'S GENDER and if people don't want to read lesbian kiratective they can FUCK OFF MY BLOG

🥚 i-offer-eggman Follow

I offer you an Eggman in these trying times.

🔮 I-stands-for-le-gay Follow

@lashitpostcalligrapher yo can i get "the statistics favor the fujoshis" on my tombstone

#fandom: kira rpf #ship: kiral #never heard it called kiratective before… #also uh. prayer circle for op's classmate lmaoooo

2,107 notes

💃🏻 modelingmadness Follow

BOYCOTT EIGHTEEN MAGAZINE

THEY ALLOW KIRA-SUPPORTING MODELS AND ARE COMPLICIT IN THIS MASSACRE

SOURCES HERE AND HERE (TRIGGER WARNING: KIRA DISCUSSION)

PUSH BACK AGAINST HEART ATTACKS

🧚🏽‍♂️ harubaru Follow

golly gee ^_^ suddenly i feel like taking to the high seas in a way that the eighteen company cant get profit from. oh no ! who left this link here

🐦‍⬛ kuro--misa Follow

thanks for the link but jesus fucking christ man what happened to free speech. misa-misa's parents were killed by a burglar who kira punished. did you all expect her to just sit there, look pretty, and say nothing about it?

you people only like models when they're nice pictures for you to consume. you only like them two-dimensional and smiling and hot. the second a woman actually speaks her mind she's thrown to the wolves

💃🏻 modelingmadness

DID YOU NOT SEE MY BANNER YOU PIECE OF SHIT

#BLOCKED

140 notes

🐦‍⬛ kuro--misa Follow

lol. lmao even

#they blocked me but whatever #official eighteen site just said misamisa wont be in the next issue #(eighteen sucks but i kind of want to use it more out of spite now) #so much for apologism huh? #god. i feel sick. #hasn't she been through enough.

1 note

🥷🏻 kira-imagines Follow

Imagine you're going home after a long day. Suddenly there's a sound. "Huh? Whose there" you ask, dropping your keys on the floor. Then you feel it. A knife pressing in your neck.

"Don't move kitten" Kira purrs behind you. "You're all mine now…"

#kiraxreader #kiraxoc #kira #kira rpf #kira investigation #kira fucker #kira fudger #kira lover #kira haters dont touch #kira haters please touch #kira supporters please touch #l

5,733 notes

asahi-the-student-deactivated201

Hello, everyone! My little sister told me about this microblogging platform (I admit, I'm a Twitter refugee) and that many of you are discussing the Kira investigation on here. I'm really interested in hearing what your thoughts are!

💋 sunny-sayu Follow

let the record show he lasted like. a day

#i think it was the imagines that did him in #bro is so sensitive :p

15 notes

kiyomitakada

the world could be beautiful

[ @deathnotetober day 14: trigger ]

[callsign-rogueone]

bruised, but not broken

Sawyer Henrick x reader (peach!) words: 2.0k 🏷: pt5 for sawyer and peach, very mild iron flame spoilers, mild descriptions of injury, soft sleepy sawyer <3 (he's concussed and needs to be held, okay), second squad makes another appearance, peach has a mouth on her, peach getting distracted by his muscles, more will-they-won't-they (they will eventually, I promise), two updates in two days! that's a record for me. ok byeee

Tomorrow comes and goes with no sight of Sawyer or his friends. 

He wouldn’t have forgotten about you, especially not after all that ordeal yesterday with that piece of parchment that’s still burning a hole in your bookbag. Maybe they’re just busy training.

Yeah. Extra flight time, or something. Or they’re out in the woods again. But wouldn’t they have a healer with them, then? None of the third years are unaccounted for. Maybe the second time they send them without a healer, to make it more difficult — not that you really did anything for them when you were there, besides figure out that the two maps were different. 

You probably weren’t supposed to do that, but after passing by the same tree four times, it became abundantly clear to you that most of these city kids had never spent any time in the woods, and you just couldn’t help yourself.

You bring a hand up to hold the little flower charm between your fingers, taking a breath. He’s fine. He has to be fine. Just crack your knuckles and say a prayer, and he’ll be fine. 

The infirmary being full really isn’t helping you relax right now, either. Not when half of the patients are infantry cadets who have just returned from four days of camping in the woods, and James and his twin idiots could walk in at any time. You’ve had it up to here with one of them in particular, who has been mouthing off about how long he’s been waiting to be checked out for a tiny cut on his arm that would need one stitch, if any.

“They’ll get to you when they get to you, but keep whining like that and I will personally make sure you’re the last one to be seen today.” He starts to protest, but you cut him off. “Do I make myself clear?” you ask more firmly. He nods, looking sufficiently embarrassed. “Good. Now sit your ass down, and treat me and my classmates with some respect.”

The squad exchanges a look. “Has she always been like that?” Ridoc asks in a whisper.

“Only when I did something really stupid,” Sawyer replies, his eyes not leaving you. “I haven't seen her that mad since I pretended to drown in the river when we were sixteen.”

“That wasn’t funny then and it still isn’t now,” you chide, turning to face them. Your jaw drops at the sight of the two boys — and Rhiannon, too — all looking battered and bruised. 

“It’s worse than it looks,” Ridoc reassures, giving you a smile that stretches the purpling bruise on his left cheek.

“He means that it looks worse than it is,” Violet corrects from his side. She appears unscathed, but looks exhausted to the bone.

“Isn’t that what I said?”

You point down the hallway. “All of you, exam room, now.” The infantry cadet opens his mouth, but you silence him with your stare. “I don’t want to hear a fucking word out of you, kid.”

You exhale deeply as soon as the door is closed behind the five of you. “Sorry. It’s been a day.”

“All good,” Ridoc supplies. 

“Her first,” both of the boys say in unison, looking at Rhiannon. She doesn’t protest, sitting down in front of you and stripping off her flight jacket so you can take a proper look. 

The first thing you notice is that both of her wrists are circled with patches of raw, irritated skin. “What did they do to you, tie you up?” you ask, incredulous.

“Yeah,” she answers. “Handcuffs.”

“For what purpose?”

“Top secret rider stuff,” Ridoc answers around a yawn, and you see an identical mark on him as he lifts his hand to cover his mouth. “Torture training. But we broke ourselves out, ‘cause we’re the best.”

“Gods above,” you swear. “I don’t know how half of what they do to you guys is legal.”

“It really isn’t,” Violet answers tiredly, “but we signed up for it.”

It still doesn’t sit right with you, but you can’t do anything to change it. All you can do is keep patching them up the best you can.

“Ridoc, can you…”

“Gotcha.” He takes the small bowl from you, holding it under the tap, and the flow of water turns into several small chunks of ice.

“Thanks.”

He hums in response, taking one for himself and holding it to the split on his cheekbone.

“What’s your date of birth?” Violet asks quietly, pen in hand. She’d managed to swipe a handful of intake sheets off the counter without you noticing, and is sitting in the corner, dutifully filling them in for you. Scribe habits die hard, you suppose. Nobody will care as long as it’s your signature at the bottom certifying everything, especially when you’re so short-handed and the leadership has a dozen more important things to do than check it.

Ridoc looks deeply offended. “Ow, dude. You don’t know my birthday?” 

“April 23rd,” Sawyer answers for him, not looking up. He’s definitely got some sort of concussion — the unfocused look in his eyes and his unusually quiet, slow-blinking demeanor give it away.

“See? Somebody knows.”

“Only because you made a ginormous deal about it.”

“Excuse me for wanting to celebrate still being alive!”

The room falls silent. You’ve only heard a few things about their squadmates that had passed, but it’s obvious that they were all deeply affected by the losses.

“I didn't mean…” 

“We know,” Violet says gently, laying a hand on his arm. “It’s okay.”

There’s another moment of quiet before you pull back, assessing your work. “I think that’s about all I can do.”

“Thank you. It feels a lot better already.”

The squad sits quietly, not saying anything as you patch up Ridoc, then turn to Sawyer. “You guys can head back without me,” he says quietly. There’s a moment of hesitation from the others, but they exchange a look and silently decide it’s okay. 

“For the road,” you say, handing them each a tin of bruise salve and a small bottle of pain tonic — and some more stretchy bandages for Violet. “Get some rest if you can.”

They take their leave quietly, thanking you, and shut the door behind them, leaving just you, Sawyer, half a bowl of ice, and the pile of neatly written paperwork. He slowly gets up, moving to sit on the edge of the table — almost at eye level with you now. “Hi,” you say softly.

“Hi.” He’s struggling to keep his eyes open, blinking at you slowly.

You cradle his jaw in one hand, tilting his head up so you can look at his pupils — they’re equal and reactive, with no signs of permanent damage. The few days worth of stubble covering his jaw tickles your palm as he leans into your touch, closing his eyes. “M’ sorry for bailing on you,” he murmurs. “I really was going to come get you, I promise.”

“I know, sweet boy,” you soothe. “Don’t worry about it.”

He reaches out, pulling you closer and resting his head over your heart — and whining like a sad puppy when you don’t return the hug.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you say gently. 

“I’ll be fine,” he mumbles. “C’mere.”

You wrap your arms around him loosely, resting a hand on his back and stroking up and down gently while you work the other into the hair at the back of his neck, gently massaging away some of the tension. He hums in contentment, settling against you and closing his eyes.

You’ve only seen him like this once, this clingy and sleepy, when he’d caught the world’s worst cold during harvest season and you were tasked with taking care of him while everyone else was out working. Of course you’d gotten the same cold from him, and then the roles were reversed. He would actually have made a decent healer. If only he were safe here with you all the time instead of risking his life every day doing gods-know-what in the name of preparing for war. 

“I worry about you, y’know. All of you,” you admit. 

“Don’t. We managed to escape a literal dungeon together.”

“I wish you hadn’t been there in the first place.”

“I know,” he says quietly. “Me too.”

You feel your stress slowly start to drain away, replaced with the reassuring steadiness of his breathing and the soft tick of the clock. You can finally stop worrying about his name being on the death roll tomorrow.

He pulls back, looking up at you. “Can you check if one of my ribs is broken?”

Your eyes widen. “You really just let me — asked me to hug you, when you thought you had a broken rib?” He winces at your volume, and you apologize immediately. “Sorry, sorry. Take your jacket off?”

He complies, setting it on the table, then tugs his shirt over his head, and your jaw drops — both at the yellow-purple bruises across his chest and ribs, and the definition there. He’s always been lean, but the last year has really toned him. All the muscles you had to memorize the names of are on clear display. You pick them out one by one as your eyes rake over the exposed skin.

“Is it that bad?” he asks after a moment.

Busted. “No,” you stammer. “It’s not the worst I’ve seen. Can I…?”

“Go ahead.”

You lay your palm against his side, feeling for an obvious point of discomfort. His skin is warm to the touch, and the muscle has just the right amount of give to it. He’d be nice to cuddle with, among other things.

He inhales sharply, distracting you from your thoughts. “There?” you ask, prodding gently. “I think it’s just bruised. There’s no swelling or evidence of displacement.”

“Ah. And the other side?” he asks hoarsely, his cheeks flushed pink.

There’s no bruises or cuts on his other side, but you humor him anyway, moving your hand down his ribs. Five… six, seven, eight… nine, ten… “Turn a bit?” you prompt. 

You’re very grateful that he can’t see your face right now. You’d admired his chest, but his back… the expanse of his shoulders and the relic stretched across them, the thick lines of muscle there… Focus. Stop being a creep. He’s injured, for Amari's sake.

You smooth your hand over his side, finding the floating ribs… there. Eleven, twelve. “Nothing broken,” you manage. “Anything else to report?”

He shakes his head no. “Just sore.” He pulls his shirt back on, and it takes you every ounce of self control not to look disappointed as his skin is covered in the tattered black fabric. He looks you over like he’s assessing you for injury. “How are you doing? Any creepiness I missed out on when I was chained up?”

You wince at the mental image, but shake your head no. “I haven’t seen him in a few days. Are you going to be okay to get back on your own?”

“I thought I told you to stop worrying about me.”

“You did,” you answer. “But I’m not going to stop.”

He sighs. “You’ve always been stubborn like that.”

“I should probably get back out there, but if you want to lay down for a while, I can keep the door locked.”

He shakes his head, standing. “I’m gonna go shower, n’ probably sleep for the rest of the day.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Why are goodbyes with him always so awkward? You never know what to do, where you stand. You definitely aren’t in kiss territory. Maybe a cheek kiss, but that’s pushing it. You’ve settled for long hugs a few times, never knowing if it would be the last one you ever get.

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “For patching me up.”

“Always,” you answer softly, looking up at him. “I’ll always be here for you. Just keep coming back to me, okay?”

“Always.”

[ashwhowrites]

May I request Robin? The reader and Robin have been sneaking around together and hooking up, but when Steve catches them together he is totally confused because he did not see that situation-ship coming due to the reader only dating boys throughout high school. Steve being a supportive friend tells them to get dressed and meet him in the living room so they can all talk out what he unfortunately (for him) witnessed. The reader and Robin finally get everything that they have wanted to get off their chest about each other and confess that they don’t want to just sneak around anymore but want to be together. Steve is just sitting there in silence but at the end is like, “wow I thought y’all were just doing it. Didn’t think y’all were actually in love.” *cough* Phoebe Buffay *cough* hahaha

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Love Phoebe❤️

Secrets and sneaking

Y/N had been down bad for Robin since they met freshman year. But she never told Robin that at first. Y/N never had experience liking a girl and it took her many years to come to the understanding of how she felt.

The things she felt for Robin, she never felt towards any boy she ever dated. With the first few guys, she figured it was because of them. But when it happened with every guy, she knew it was something with her.

With her and Robin graduating within the year, she didn't want them to head off to different states and never know what could have been.

Which led her to sneak around with Robin in bed sheets.

Robin had crushed on Y/N for years before she spoke a word on it. Robin watched her date boy after boy, pushing the idea of confessing further behind. It almost felt clear that Y/N was not interested in females at all. To Robin's prayers, something shifted and they got tangled in the sheets.

Neither brought up the conversation they needed to have. Robin was too scared to scare her off, and Y/N was scared to admit Robin was the only person she ever wanted. Robin liked girls and had liked girls. Y/N wasn't sure where she fell compared to the others.

Robin had a similar fear. She was terrified Y/N was experimenting and testing out the waters. Robin was the first girl she was intimate with and Robin didn't want to be used and tossed aside.

Admitting to each other seemed too much. So they slept together and didn't ask any questions. Robin wondered if Y/N was interested in anyone else and Y/N wondered the same. It was an endless cycle of circles, spinning and spinning without an end.

It was a cycle they planned to be on for life because at least it was together.

~~~

Steve always showed up at Robin's unannounced. Her parents were never home and somehow Robin became his best friend, and only best friend over the age of sixteen.

He didn't think of why Robin's door was closed and he didn't think of why he probably should have knocked. He flung the door open and the story on his tongue faded away as his eyes registered what he was seeing.

Y/N was on top of Robin's body, straddling her lap as their lips were locked. Both girls were in their bras and pants, their shirts tossed mindlessly to the floor. Robin's hands were on Y/N's ass and Y/N's hands were in Robin's hair.

Steve could barely believe what he saw. It wasn't a shock that Robin was with a girl. It was a shock that Y/N was with a girl.

"WHAT IS THIS!" Steve screamed, his hands flinging around in the air as his eyes were wide with shock.

Both girls screamed and pulled apart. Robin held the blanket up to their chests, covering the naked skin from Steve's eyes.

"Steve! Get out of here!" Robin said she could feel her skin burning with embarrassment.

"Oh no, you two get dressed and meet me downstairs." He said, his hand on his hip as he closed the door. "And don't think you two can jump right back in. You got 3 minutes!"

~

"Do you want to tell me what I just walked in on?" Steve asked

He stood in front of them as they sat side by side on the couch

"Something that isn't any of your business." Robin snapped

"Rob," Y/N said but Robin didn't care

"No, what we do is none of his business. I'm in the privacy of my own home and I can do what I want with who I want."

"When you make dumb decisions, that is when it becomes my business!" Steve argued

"Dumb?" Robin said as she stood up

They both glared at each other as Y/N remained on the couch

"You know messing around with her is a bad idea," Steve said, trying to keep his voice low

Robin rolled her eyes and scoffed

"Why is it bad?" Y/N asked as she stood up. She was a little hurt by the comment

"It's just...you had never been with a girl before. You've only been with guys and I don't think Robin should get tangled in that." Steve explained

"I'm not tangled in anything! I am well aware of what I'm doing," Robin fought

"Oh, you do?" Steve asked

"I do"

"Oh, you do now?"

"That's what I said dingus"

"Alright, so what are you guys doing?" Steve asked, his hands on his hips as he looked at the two girls.

"Having fun?" Y/N answered, but her tone was unsure. She looked at Robin

"Yeah having fun!" Robin agreed

"Oh fun! No one ever gets hurt when it's just for fun." Steve said as he rolled his eyes.

"No one is gonna get hurt, we both know how we feel and having fun," Y/N cut in

"Oh? So you know she has feelings for you?" Steve asked, his eyes on Y/N

"STEVE!" Robin yelled as she pushed him. She covered her face in horror

"She what?" Y/N asked as she looked over to Robin

"OH! Look at that, you aren't on the same page after all." Steve declared as he clapped his hands.

"That was not your place," Robin said through clenched teeth as she uncovered her face

"Since when?" Y/N asked, she grasped Robin's arm to turn her around

Now they were face-to-face

"Maybe like tenth grade?" Robin shrugged, "But you were always so focused on boys that I figured it was a shot in the dark so I never said anything!"

"Why didn't you after we..." she trailed off as she looked over to Steve, "Um got together." She finished as she looked back at Robin.

"I was scared. I didn't want to know if it was a mistake or not"

"Robin, you would never be a mistake," Y/N said softly, she stepped forward and placed her hands on Robin's cheeks. "I was scared too, that's why I never said anything."

"What were you scared to say?" Robin asked. Her breathing got caught in her lungs at the way Y/N held her face. How close she stood and how deep she was looking into her eyes.

"That I've been thinking about you every day since freshman year. That I've had these feelings for you that I never felt with a boy. That I think I fell in love with you." She confessed

Robin felt her heart race at her words. A big smile reached her face.

"I think I love you too," Robin admitted

They went silent as they looked at each other. Not noticing that they were leaning closer to each other. Just a second away from their lips touching...

“wow, I thought y’all were just doing it. Didn’t think y’all were actually in love.” Steve's voice cut through the moment.

Both Robin and Y/N rolled their eyes as they looked over at him.

"Oh right! My cue to go," Steve said, pretending to tip-toe out of the room.

"He's an idiot," Robin said as he walked out of her house

"Smart enough to see we were idiots," Y/N said

"He doesn't need to know that," Robin laughed. Her laughter died as she bit her lip.

"So uh...did you maybe want to go on a date?" Her voice was nervous as she stuttered.

"Absolutely," Y/N smiled as she leaned in

Steve forever took credit for them officially being together. It was even part of his best-man speech.

[rottenpumpkin13]

what if lucrecia were to find her son one day? before nibelheim, when he was at his lowest after genesis and angeal left. lucrecia, freed from her crystal, just bumps into him in public and they finally meet…

The reality of knowing her son exists somewhere in the world haunts her differently than it haunted him. For years, Sephiroth searched for her face in every crowd, in every woman he passed on missions, in remote villages and busy streets. He would lie awake at night after losing her photo, squeezing his eyes shut to draw her face from memory, until eventually resignation and mourning set in, and he forced himself to stop looking.

Now Lucrecia is the one searching, armed only with her last memory of him: a tiny baby behind sterile glass, wrapped in white, little green eyes with dilating pupils staring back at her in confusion and fear. So small, so defenseless, and Hojo wouldn't even let her hold him.

She doesn't know what face she's looking for anymore. She stumbles through Nibelheim again, just as she did all those years ago, with mako clinging to her clothes like a second skin, drawing wary glances from locals. His name has become a prayer on her tongue: Sephiroth, Sephiroth, Sephiroth—not a name she chose, but one she'd grown to love, one she should have been there to teach him to write.

The locals exchange concerned looks when she asks about him. "Sephiroth? The war hero? He's here inspecting the reactor, but word is he's holed himself up in the Shinra mansion for three days now."

Her legs, weak from years of disuse, carry her toward that dreaded mansion—the place she should have fled from with him in her arms. The thick dust makes her cough as she pushes open the door, but she knows these halls by heart, every corner embedded in her memory from years of research. "Sephiroth?" Her voice echoes through the empty corridors as she descends to the basement.

She finds him there, her poor little boy, hunched over a book, dark circles beneath his eyes, cheeks stained with tears, looking far too thin. "Sephiroth," she whispers, and he looks up. The sight breaks her heart—the way he stares at her for long seconds, his trembling hands rising to rub his eyes as if trying to dispel a hallucination.

She steps carefully over scattered books and messy space, crossing the space between them. Three days, the villager said. Three days her baby has been here alone, lost in whatever truths or lies he found. It's nothing compared to the decades she left him, but it hurts all the same.

Tears spill uncontrollably as she embraces him, and the moment her warmth seeps into him, his arms wrap around her with desperation, as if she might dissolve if he let go. They remain silent, her mind racing with questions, of whether he forgives her, she forgives herself, or if he even wants her at all.

Then she hears it: his sobs, small and vulnerable, more befitting the baby he once was than the man he became. Guilt pierces her heart as she holds her little boy tighter, shushing him softly, pressing kisses to his forehead and whispering, "I'm here now, and I won't leave you again."

[nerd-by-definition]

Even if no one wants to do the ask game, it doesn’t mean I won’t do it anyway 😤

For the Angsty/Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompt Asks

31. “You came back for me. You actually came back for me.”

TW Blood, Injuries, Self-Destructive Behavior

Dick breathed in and out slowly as his aching fingers clenched tightly around the cold plastic chair beneath him. The open cuts on his knuckles seemed determined to never heal—not that he ever gave them the chance to—and the sting of torn skin grounded him more than any useless prayer the nuns tried to instill in him. He had his own mantra to keep his thoughts occupied during times of trouble.

“Please work, please work, please work,” he mumbled under his breath with each minute that passed. This had to work. It just had to.

A flex of his index finger made a drop of blood slide down until it dripped on the floor by his restless feet. Was it morbid to say he’d become particularly fond of the shade of red that darkened his fingers after punching assholes in the face? Some hobbies were just too addicting to quit, even when he knew it was stupid for a trapeze artist to damage his hands. At least they deserved it; a sacrifice for the greater good.

“Father, I don’t see what more we can do! He’s been disruptive since the day he arrived and nothing works!”

“Sister, we can’t lose hope—“

“Don’t pull the “hope” card with me.“

“Sometimes children need more unique help.”

“He needs a jail cell to straighten him out! Acting like he’s the only boy here who’s ever been traumatized by death. Just because it happened under an absurd circus tent does not make him special—“

“Sister!”

Dick gnawed on his split lip until the iron taste filled his mouth. The buzzing hum of the fluorescent lights filled his ears, the dried flakes of blood under his nose aggressively itched, but none of it mattered. He’d be going home soon. The nightmare would finally end.

He’d be going home—

The abrupt woosh of the doors at the end of the hall opening caused Dick to abandon his staring contest with the floor as a struggling Jason was dragged in by his upper arm.

Breathless, he watched the scrappy boy kick and claw at the nun’s hand to no avail. Years of malnourishment and poverty had yet to loosen its grasp of Jason, leaving him helpless against the might of an angry nun eager to discipline.

“I didn’t do anything! Let me go! Let me go!” he shouted.

Big blue eyes stared at Dick, a myriad of emotions sparking one right after the other. What should I say to them? Are you alright? I’m sorry it didn’t-

Dick snapped his eyes to the nun’s other hand where a crumpled letter shook. His letter. No. No.

I’m sorry it didn’t work.

“You wait right here with your little accomplice,” she spat, violently releasing Jason’s arm so he stumbled into the seat next to Dick. Her pace never faltered when she finally entered the office with the confidence of a detective who finally cracked the case—like they’d done anything as dramatic as that.

“I’m sorry, Dickie. I tried! I just—“

Apparently, they hadn’t done anything at all.

“I thought you said it’d be just a food fight! When he swung at you, I nearly saw red—“

It didn’t work.

“And there were so many of them, I had to circle back to help! What would be the point of getting that letter out if you weren’t here for them to pick you up?”

He’d be trapped in that damn orphanage forever.

“I tried to sneak out once they were stopping the fight, but it was too late. Who knew Sister Agnes could be so handsy—“

“You came back for me,” Dick finally interrupted Jason’s panicked rambling. “You actually came back for me.”

He shifted his shoulders from side to side before nodding slowly. “I had to…”

He had to. He had to. The simmering anger behind Dick’s eyes boiled over. “NO, YOU DIDN’T! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SNEAK THE LETTER INTO THE MAILBOX DOWN THE STREET LIKE WE PLANNED!”

Dick didn’t care if they heard his confession. What did it matter? They knew what he wanted; every attempt to contact Haly had been categorically denied, refused, and foiled. Subterfuge was the only option left.

Dick stood, hands trembling, as he paced to release the burning energy in his limbs.

Jason frowned. “But you were—“

“I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU THOUGHT! I NEEDED THIS! I WANT TO GO HOME!” Dick kicked the chairs just to watch the perfect row buckle under the force of his anger. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

I want to go home. I want to go home.

“I’m sorry, Dickie. I tried…”

“Let me go home,” he cried with a sloppy punch to the wall. “Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!” No matter how many times he slammed his bleeding fist into the wall, it didn’t budge. It never budged. He’d never be free.

“Dick! DICK!” Jason pulled on his waist, his shoulder, his arm, until he could slide between Dick and the wall. His wide eyes pleaded for him to stop as one shaking hand managed to catch Dick’s fist on the next swing. “Calm down, please…you’re gonna hurt yourself…”

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He didn’t want to believe it was true that Haly would leave him in the rotten city which ruined his life. There had to be some mistake! If only he could contact him—anyone from his former family under the big top—they’d surely come for him. The priests and the nuns were liars; Haly must want him back.

Since no one else did.

“I shouldn’t be here…I can’t be here…” Dick gasped through the pain squeezing his chest. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t he breathe? “Why did you come back?” he whined.

Jason had been his last chance. No one else would entertain Dick’s escape attempts after three years in the orphanage; the other kids all found him delusional, hatching futile plots to reach people who obviously didn’t care. Going it alone wasn’t possible with every nun and priest on the lookout. He’d almost lost hope until this scrawny rebel was dumped on the front steps like every street rat Batman found freezing on the streets.

One fight with a bully and a second, secret helping of dinner shared when his stomach threatened to wake the whole dormitory brought Jason to Dick’s side, and he’d hung off of his every word since. Even the Gotham City mobsters couldn’t expect such loyalty and devotion from their goons.

So Jason stood firm as Dick repeatedly shoved him against the wall in place of the breaths he couldn’t take, each push getting weaker and weaker. Damn his unwavering belief in him. Didn’t he know that Dick was going nowhere fast?

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t let you get jumped by those assholes! I’m sorry…” Watery eyes refused to spill over in the face of Dick’s fury, but the sight of barely concealed fear stopped Dick in his tracks. Not fear of Dick, never that, but fear for him—fear of what he would keep doing to himself if Jason didn’t stop him.

“Jason, I…” What was he doing?

Dick’s knees buckled and he slid down to a nearby chair, bringing Jason down with him.

“I know I fucked up, but please stop hurting yourself. I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” Jason sniffed.

Shaking his head, Dick curled an arm around Jason’s neck and dragged him close. This wasn’t his fault. Dick was the fuck up, not Jason. Never Jason. The swollen bruising around his cheek ached when smashed against Jason’s flushed face, but he refused to pull away until he understood what Dick was incapable of saying at the moment.

Thank you. I need you. I’m sorry.

Maybe Haly didn’t care about him. Maybe the priests and nuns would rather send him to juvie than deal with him anymore. Maybe no one in the world gave a shit what happened to Dick Grayson.

But Jason Todd did.

“You came back for me…” Dick breathed in wonder. “You actually came back for me…”

It’d been so long since someone cared.

Jason snuck an arm around his waist once the shock of the hug had passed and laughed. He buried his face deep into Dick’s shoulder, gently holding his bleeding hand with the other, as warm fingers pressed into his trembling back.

He understood. Of course he understood. No one got him like Jason did.

“Always. Who else is gonna watch your back, Dickhead?”

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Saint of the Smallest Sun

The first time Ambriel came to earth, it was new, and fresh, and innocent. The lesser angels were taken on a tour in proto-humanoid-vessels, before the real humans were awoken. Ambriel had stepped into a pile of rotting fruit with her vessel's bare foot, and decided not to come again if she could help it.

The second time she came to earth, it had had an extra 4.5 billion years in which to rot, and she was forced there. One moment, she was processing information through the incorporeal fibers of her wings, and the next she was bound to a 5 foot circle of space in a human form wearing a pantsuit. She looked from the ring of holy fire surrounding her to the room it was set in; a crumpled bed with a stretched out photograph as  the duvet pattern, a series of posters depicting scenes from the Winchester Gospels, a chunky computer monitor showing a forum comment page, and a young woman kneeling amongst a flurry of papers with a mortar and pestle beside her, the crackle of after-magic still hovering over it. The woman was staring at her, eyes and mouth agape, like one of the fish that the archangel Gabriel kept brandishing at anyone close to him on that first day on earth. Ambriel had only seen it from a distance, but the image had remained in her mind, as everything she learned remained.

Ambriel touched her own cheek gently, and then pinched it hard between her fingers. She winced. This wasn't a vessel. This temporary form must have been crafted by the spell, which suggested that the person who brought her here was either a powerful spellcaster or had an abnormally strong sense of will. She glanced skeptically back at the kneeling woman, who had brought up both hands to cover her mouth and was still just staring at her. Maybe there was a third option.

"Can you let me go?" She tried, careful to speak with her new vocal chords instead of her true voice. It scratched a little, but seemed serviceable. "I have like, a lot to do."

"Mmnnhn," the human said, muffled by her own hands, and then she started and dropped them: "I mean. Michael. Wow! I was expecting - I mean, just based on all the other characters, I thought you'd be, you know, a guy. Not that there's anything wrong with girls - I - I was such a big fan of Jo! You know, after it was clear she wasn't going to be a threat to the brother's relationship. I just think it gets in the way, sometimes, like, the story is about men, why do girls even need to be involved, you know? But I am a feminist! So, yeah, I- I love that you're a woman that's - that's great."

Ambriel squinted at her, deeply confused. What is she talking about? This seemed to fluster the woman, who finally blinked, and rapidly.

"Oh, god. Don't ramble Becky. Be normal. Be normal, Becky. Okay! So..."

The woman - Becky, presumably - lowers her forehead to the floor and links her fingers in front of her in a prayer pose. Her voice trembles when she speaks again:

"Dear...you. I know I'm not important to the story. And I know it's not fated or plotted or anything. But I thought...I have to try, right? That's what Sam would do. Trying against impossible odds is what Supernatural is all about. So, I'm here on behalf of humanity to beg for our lives. Please. Don't do the Apocalypse. It'd be really bad if you did the Apocalypse. Chuck's not the most descriptive writer, but from what I've seen of his notes...yikes. And it's already pretty bad now, just with Lucifer walking the Earth. Just, grab him and duke it out on Mars, or something, if you really have to fight. Please, please, just leave the Earth alone."

"You want me to...cancel the Apocalypse?" Ambriel asked, and Becky desperately nodded. "Oh, I can't do that. So, can you let me out now, or...?"

Read my Becky/Ambriel fic, Saint of the Smallest Sun, on ao3 for more!

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

Hey, just today I've decided to stop seeing my parents and siblings for an indeterminate amount of time, and to possibly even break off all contact if it has to come to that. They refuse to acknowledge me as the person i really am and I can't keep sacrificing my mental health and me up for that. Will you please pray for me? And if it's not too much to ask, do you perhaps have a bible passage to strengthen me during this time? I still want to stay close to God, because I know the way God created me was correct and good. Thank you

~Micha (they/them)

Hi Micha,

What a difficult, courageous thing you've done. I will absolutely hold you in my prayers; I pray you will find relief in having finally made the hard decision, and continue to live into flourishing.

The Bible story that comes to my mind is a strange one, only told by Mark (3:20-35):

Very early in Jesus's ministry, as he gathers followers and gains attention, his family is apparently very concerned.

Perhaps they know this path puts him in danger; or maybe they just worry about his "lifestyle" reflecting badly on them. Either way, they know they have to "take control of him;" after all, he's clearly "out of his mind" (v. 21).

So his mother and siblings hurry to a house where Jesus is teaching, but it's packed so full they can't get inside. So they send a messenger in and also call for him from outside (vv. 31-32). I can just imagine their calls: "Please honey, this isn't like you! Who influenced you to go this way?" "You're the man of the house, you can't just abandon us to hang out with queer friends and say edgy things!" "What will the neighbors say?"

But when Jesus is told his family is out there calling to him, he answers, “Who is my mother? Who are my siblings?” Looking around at those seated around him in a circle, he said, “Look, here are my mother and my brothers. Whoever does God’s will is my brother, sister, and mother.”

We know Jesus's love for his mother. I am sure he loved his whole family with the infinite depth of God. Yet he risks losing them, says hard words he know will probably hurt, because if they make him choose between them and living out God's will, he has to choose God's will.

We don't know whether he ever reconciled with his siblings; they don't appear anywhere else in the Gospels. Maybe this was their last encounter, not even face-to-face. Maybe his brothers could not abide his abnormal lifestyle and chose to cut him out of their lives.

But we do know Jesus reconciles with Mary, the mother who proclaimed divine revolution as a newly pregnant teen (Luke 1:46-55) — yet who seems to waver now, either out of fear for her son or failing to understand that what he's doing now is the revolution.

But I like to imagine when Mary hears what Jesus says about family, the implication that she is only mother to him if she continues to help him in living God's will, she immediately corrects course. She will keep supporting him, even when she doesn't fully understand.

Sure enough, Mary supports him all the way to the cross, all the way to the grave. They are present for each other, comforting each other through the worst moment of both their lives.

[Jesus even fuses his biological family and his found family together from the cross. Now that he will no longer be the "man" in Mary's life who offers her legal and social protection; and now that he won't be there to love on his Beloved, he offers John to Mary, Mary to John. "Woman, here is your son. John, here is your mother!" (John 19:25-27)

Is that queer or what?? As his final act on this side of the tomb, Jesus essentially makes his mother and lover mother-in-law and son-in-law! ...I can't not think of the AIDS crisis, where dying partners would pass their beloved's care over to surviving loved ones.]

___

Jesus always prioritized chosen family over biological family. A biological relative can be part of your chosen family, but belonging to that family is no more automatic for them than for anyone else.

Jesus shows us that when family fails to support us in doing God's will — in this case, taking up the invitation to co-create yourself with God, to commit your own small rebellion against the status quo, to prophecy resurrection as embracing your queerness brings you to new life — they cease to be family in the way that matters most.

That rupture can be mended at any point, if and when those who did harm seek to make amends — and receive consent to do so. Whether or not reconciliation ever takes place, we seek out others who will celebrate us and support us in our efforts to glorify God with our lives.

___

God of love, Hold Micha close in this time of loss and and changed relationships. Comfort them in the knowledge that this rupture is no fault of theirs, but caused by parents and siblings refusing to embrace all they are, and failing imagine a fuller Kin(g)dom, a vaster love, a more colorful Image of God.

Spirit of courage and wisdom, guide Micah towards those who will delight in all that they are. Help them build a family founded on love, equity, and mutual support. Wherever their journey takes them, make your unconditional love, your unwavering presence known to them.

Amen.

[enniewritesathing]

memory management (time of death 2)

⏮️Previous || (📚Previous Stories) || Beginning ▶️

⚠️ The following update contains the following triggers: death, blood, gore, strangulation, needles, gun, violence.⚠️

(An air of frustration, failure, and disappointment fills the lab.)

(Everyone is silent; Jordan puts their hands together in prayer.)

(Bernard stares up at the ceiling, massaging his forearms. Shit, if he thought he was do CPR for damn near two hours straight, he would've taken arm day more seriously.)

After a sigh, he breaks the silence. "So, what now, Char? What do you think went sideways?"

(Charles taps the side of his temples. He already knows the answer and he feels Daniel's steel blue eyes boring a hole into him.)

Daniel: "Charles."

"Answer the question."

Charles: (with slight irritation) "If you insist, Daniel."

"We pushed him too hard. Fact of the matter is we went into this trial too soon. It was discovered hours before that Johnathan's heart had accumulated damage over time from previous endeavors; his HF was becoming inefficient at fixing said damage. You can put two and two together."

"With him fighting us, his HF was overloaded. When it failed, his heart failed. Simple as that."

(Bernard scoffs.) "Of course. Of course. Of course he was going to fight us to the very end; look where it got him."

Daniel: "You're missing the point--"

Bernard: "Give me a fuckin' break, Dan!"

(Bernard reaches for John's arm to take off the bracelet, but first he needs to tell this righteous asshole off.)

"Let's have a moment of hypotheticals. Suppose we did manage to get wolf-man back? But wait a minute -- his heart stopped six times and for way too long periods of time. Werewolf or not, ten minutes is all we got. Even if he came back, his brain would be done."

"Am I right, Charles? Or do we have notes on if and when his HF will fix that?"

Charles: "I placed too much faith in Johnathan. He is... was young and stubborn. Obviously, I took advantage of that fact; it was a grave miscalculation."

Bernard: "Hmph. You succeeded in getting rid of the werewolf. We all did."

(Daniel continues to stare at Charles, largely ignoring Bernard's words.) "What are you going to tell his loved ones?"

"What lies are you going to tell his mother that she's lost another son to this affliction? Only this time, it was you."

"You made the decision to go ahead with the trial, despite my warning not to."

Jordan: "Is that true?"

Daniel: "Yeah, it is."

Charles: "And yet, here you are. Now, I've given you plenty of chances to excuse and recuse yourself, my dear Daniel. You didn't in either case; in staying, you agreed.

"Even with Johnathan's death, we have gathered valuable data and that's all I can hope for. We did get results; it wasn't the type that we wanted. Does that make you feel better?"

(Jordan appears at Daniel's side, placing a hand on his arm.)

"Dan. We did everything we could. You... you have to let this go. Please."

"We can deal with this later. I'm tired. Okay?"

Daniel closes his eyes and heaves a great sigh as Jordan rubs a small circle on his back. They're right. "Fine."

Bernard: (sighs) "I know I've gave you shit, Dan. For what it's worth, I do feel a tiny bit what you feel. Same sea, different boat though."

Charles: "Are we all in agreement that the trial is over?"

(Everyone else utters a tired "yes".)

"Good." (He sighs.) "I'll go break the news to his mother."

(Jordan walks back to the table. They straighten out John's head to take off the mask; his eyes unfocused, staring at nothing, shifting with the motion.)

(What a shame.)

(Jordan offers another prayer before closing John's eyes.)

"Good night, John."

// Next ⏭️

[i-mybrunettelady]

hail, mighty hero

zaeim and nyra share a moment in kourna. set during long live the lich (lws4). mind the spoilers. 2k words. mature.

Allied Encampment is bustling with life. But it’s not the kind of life that would indicate happiness; in Zaeim’s head, that kind of life is almost a fragment of his imagination. It certainly is for the poor souls of Istan, or even Vabbi. Here in Kourna and the real world, it’s a life of anxiety, a life of uncertainty, of vague hope. People are carrying their restlessness with them and looking up at the leaders of this makeshift resistance group to make sense of it. 

Zaeim feels that burden intensely. He guides his Sunspears, makes plans, tries his hardest to not break nor bend under pressure. Every time he sees a wounded or dying Elonian, he sends a prayer to Kormir and it weighs his heart down even further. Every time there’s an accident, or a failed scouting mission, Zaeim wonders if they’re all going to die and Joko will remain the tyrant of Elona forever. 

So when he feels this way, he turns to Nyra. She stands tall, proud, indomitable and entirely mad. Her eyes shine with something wild and barely restrained, like fate itself had carved a chasm in her soul so now she’s trying to rebuild it back with parts of the real world. She attracts attention wherever she goes and people flock to her like moths to flame. From a distance, she looks radiant. Up close, Zaeim wonders when she’s going to burn out entirely. 

She can’t seem to fight off a sunburn from days in the sands and amongst the army. Her hair, short, messy and in constant disarray, has lightened to a near blonde, a contrast to the areas of her face that caught the beginnings of a tan. She has growing dark circles under her eyes and ever-present dirt beneath her nails, be it blood or tar or whatever else. Comfortable tunics she wears are more filled with creases and dust by the day, patched where they’d gotten nicked in the fights with Awakened. She hardly looks like their leader, Zaeim thinks, as worn out and bitter and restless as everyone else. 

He knows deep down, however, that it is her light this whole thing is centered around. And so, he can’t look away. Especially not when they’re discussing tactics, when she’s explaining things in that strangely accented Elonian of hers, or when she settles on a decision and cuts a clear line in the sand. I have listened to your suggestions. From this point on, you are with me or against me. 

Hardly anyone dares oppose her.

And thus Zaeim finds himself drawn to the moments where he’s with her. He likes the reassurance in her eyes. He likes the subtle nature of her smiles. “I’ve never been very expressive, in terms of.. Face,” she said one night, reclining against a wall. Zaeim raised his gaze to her face. “Do you mind that?”

“Some people are simply not,” he replied, with more eagerness than he’d intended. “I don’t doubt that you’re genuine about this and about Elona. Kormir knows you want Joko dead as much as anyone else here.” 

“There can only be one biggest dick in this desert, yeah?” she huffed and blew a curl of hair away from her nose. “For fuck’s sake, I need my hair to grow faster.” 

Zaeim smiled. “That growth spurt went elsewhere with you, it would seem.” 

Nyra laughed. It was a solid, deep sound, echoing in the small cottage they’d claimed as their base of command. “I’d say Joko stole it and I wanna get it back.” 

“Or Sayida.” 

“Sayida is wiser than Joko.” 

Zaeim shook his head. “Debatable, but I will not argue with you.” 

“That’s smart,” Nyra said, in a gravelly tone. If he hadn’t known better, he would’ve suspected a threat. “You are wise too.” 

Zaeim doesn’t consider himself wise. He doesn’t think Nyra herself is wise, either. All he knows is that between them, and supposedly Sayida, and the Olmakhan and the Primeval ghosts, they can take down Joko and see a free Elona. 

Sometimes, that is enough. 

Other times, though, he wants to see Nyra the woman, Nyra the person behind the legend. Then he watches her movements, and notices, rather quickly, that her right shoulder is almost always stiff by the end of the day. She’s careful to not move her right hand much unless she has to, and the occasional stretch she does brings about a pained expression. She doesn’t bring it up, however. 

He understands. He has old wounds too. But in the grand scheme of Alysannyra Ainsaph, that one thing feels like a game changer. She goes from a symbol to a person, and from person to a symbol in a way Zaeim is familiar with, as the Spearmarshal. It makes him want to hold her close, feel the heat of her skin and the roughness of her sunburnt cheeks, in a union that so few people can actually understand. 

She comes to him in a dream, once, and there, she kisses him. And maybe Joko kills them all without Zaeim ever having tried to recreate that dream in real life. Zaeim hopes he musters up the courage to try. 

Opportunity presents itself rather unexpectedly. There is an Awakened Inquest incursion that Nyra herself chooses to annihilate, and that has her painfully rolling her shoulder to try and relieve the ache of it all day. In a break between planning, when the maps are in the safety of Canach’s hands for the moment, Zaeim takes a chance to lean in and whisper in Nyra’s ear, “Does your shoulder hurt?” 

Nyra almost hits his head as she raises hers. “What?” 

Zaeim blinks and steps away. “I noticed your shoulder is stiff and I wanted to offer relief. There is something that us Sunspears use and that I have a little bit of in my pack for old injuries.” 

“Relief, Spearmarshal?” Canach snickers, still looking at the maps. “I do think our dear Commander would love some relief! She’s had so much on her shoulders for this little war of yours–” 

“That’s what you take from this,” Nyra drawls, unimpressed. “Anyone you wanna fuck, Canach?” Zaeim blushes. 

“My hand suffices, Commander.” 

“Good. Stay out of the poor Spearmarshal’s business then. Maybe his hand doesn’t suffice.” 

Miraculously, Canach backs down. He offers Nyra a smile and returns the maps in her hands. “I will ponder on the tactics, Nyra,” he says quietly. “I will also see if Gorrik has any advice on the matter.” 

“Gorrik?” Nyra raises an eyebrow. She huffs out a breath and leans in. “Lie better next time, you asshat.” 

Canach grins. “He knows more than you think he does, Nyra.” 

“Oh.” 

“Oh, indeed.” 

“Get lost, though,” she jerks her head towards the door. “Think about tactics elsewhere.” 

Canach salutes her and heads to the door. He makes sure to close them as loudly as he possibly can without breaking the damn thing. Zaeim watches him go and crosses his arms over his chest. His face feels hot still and he digs his nails into the exposed skin of his upper arms. Yes, Kormir curse him, he does want to sleep with Nyra, and is that a crime? Is it a bad thing if a man wants to sleep with a woman? 

“Zaeim,” Nyra says, “if you frown any harder, you’ll get a permanent wrinkle.” 

“Wrinkles are the least of my concerns,” Zaeim grumbles and looks away. He then clears his throat. “I hope you’re not offended that I–” 

“That you find me attractive?” Nyra taps a nail against the table. The wide stance she’d assumed earlier when talking to Canach now becomes a long, lean form. The wood creaks under her weight when she leans against the table. “No.” 

“But?” Zaeim looks back at her again. She’s rubbing her clothed arms. She’s the only fully clothed and covered person in this entire camp, barring Gorrik and Taimi. She has bandages up to her knuckles. “Are you hurt?”

“Zaeim, I’m more scar tissue than skin behind this patched up tunic,” she says after a while and laughs awkwardly. Zaeim stares. It somehow never crossed his mind that she too might have insecurities. His head has a hard time wrapping itself around that notion, that the Godkiller and Dragonslayer is insecure about her scars of all things. 

“That is hardly a concern to me, if it is any consolation,” he offers softly. “There are a lot of scarred Sunspears.” 

She looks him up and down. Her eyes linger on his arms and legs and on the peek of his chest, before she looks him directly in the eye. Zaeim squirms under inspection. He knows he looks older than he is; life of a Sunspear is hardly easy, and beauty is the first thing to go when you choose to defy Joko. In the grand scheme of things, it’s least relevant. But right now Zaeim wishes very hard that he’d been born a noble, a prince of Vabbi or Istan, someone she would find easy to look at. 

“For what’s worth, I think you’re attractive too,” she says and Zaeim’s head shoots up. She sounds a little sad. 

Zaeim breathes out. “I still have my ointment, if you’d like it.” 

She considers for a moment, and as if to prove a point, goes to roll her shoulder. She stops halfway. “Yes,” she says. She rises from the table that creaks thankfully, and carefully pulls some of her tunic down to reveal her right shoulder. Zaeim sees the tail ends of angry, dark pink burns, but when she catches it, she raises the sleeve so they’re covered again. 

He doesn’t ask. Instead, he points towards a little stool near him. She walks over, playing with the material of her sleeve, and turns her back to him as she sits. His breath catches in his throat. The scar there is gnarly, deep, like something had tried to tear her spine off. It sits in an uneven line at a weird angle too. 

“It would’ve been worse without surgery,” she says, distantly. 

“Is there a way to–”

“No.” The finality of her response makes him close his mouth and dig through his pack. He unscrews the little clay pot and a familiar, slightly pungent scent spreads across the room. Zaeim says nothing as he softly rubs the cream into the knotted flesh. The only sounds in the room are the scoops his fingers make and their breathing, rugged and tense. 

She has tan lines, he notices. Her skin is hot where he touches it. Every so often she turns her head to look at him, and her eyes seem so impossibly big and insistent, conflicted in a way he can’t possibly decode. The sunburn makes their purple hue stand out even more. Zaeim’s hands itch to touch and caress more of her. He imagines his lips on her exposed neck, his hands in her hair. This close, she’s less of a symbol and more of a living, breathing person, with dark circles and a haunted stare and greasy hair, and he cannot get enough of it. 

“Kiss me,” she says. Her voice is rough and rich and breathy. It echoes in Zaeim’s ears like a drum. 

“Gladly,” Zaeim mutters and closes the clay pot. He could die tomorrow; it would’ve been a damn shame if he didn’t leap at an opportunity to kiss her. The pot clinks as he returns it carelessly to his pack and washes his hands free of the ointment. Nyra watches him with a strange expression. 

“What?” Zaeim asks and his heart wants to beat out of his chest. He feels its thunder in his throat. 

“You remind me of someone,” she says softly. “It’s– it was a man as dedicated to his dream and his duties as you are.” The way she implies the man is dead makes it seem targeted, almost a reproach. She’d mentioned a lover before, back in Tyria, but that he is dead. Zaeim has no idea who this man is and senses the topic is too raw to discuss further, but he wonders.

Self reproach is the only thing worse than regret. 

Zaeim crouches before her. This close, she smells like the cream he’d put on her and sweat. “Do you want me to kiss you? Truly?” 

Her eyes blaze. “Enough consideration,” she bites out, “I’m not fragile, for fuck’s sake!” And she pulls him to her and crashes her lips to his, digs her hands in his locs. Zaeim moans under the attention, and he would’ve felt bad about it if it wasn’t swallowed by the domineering force of her lips on his, even if closed. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 

After a moment, she takes her head back a little, as if snapped out of a daze. “You probably wanted something sweeter,” she says quietly. “This was anything but.” 

“I will not lie,” he replies, “my usual idea of a first kiss is something that isn’t a metaphorical devouring.” 

Nyra blinks. “We can kiss slowly, if you’d like,” she says and plays with his locs. And then adds, with a grief so big it could swallow the world, “It’s been a long while since I had one of those. Probably don’t deserve them either. But..” 

Zaeim stands up. “This chair is a little uncomfortable,” he says. Nyra follows suit, close enough so he can feel the heat of her body. “I am certain there are more comfortable places in this house for people to kiss.” 

“Walls have hardly ever failed,” she suggests. Finding a little nook that’s big enough for both of them is a challenge, but when they finally do, and when he kisses her again, with his hands on her ass, the world falls away. 

Kormir knows they both need this. Kormir knows they both need a lot of things. And thankfully, Kormir, bless Her, provides. 

[one-of-many-journeys]

Day 1

The Embrace

Two days before the proving. Rost wants to go hunting today. I’ll enjoy his final lessons. Things will change after the proving, but I’ve got a plan for that.

Tasks for the day: hunting game for Grata, shards and blaze for fire arrows. Rost has something planned.

Ended up taking out the whole herd for practice, along with gathering the supplies Rost wanted. Took a nasty fall off a rock, hit by a Watcher blast. Blinded too. Amateur mistake.

Met a wounded man who wanted help from anyone, even an outcast. His daughter was lost and he was stuck there feeling sorry for himself, unable to pursue her. I tracked his daughter, Arana. She was stuck up on a Brave trail circled by Watchers. I took out all 4 without them seeing me. Sort of.

Arana told me she'd lost her late mother's spear in a tousle with a Scrapper. If she can't handle a few Watchers, Scrappers are out of the question. So she would return to her father, I said I'd get the spear back for her.

Bought a Tripcaster off Karst, finally. He was worried I'd leave him for merchants in Mother's Heart once I won the Proving, maybe turn him in too. Honestly, how could he think so little of me? I'm the last person that would go running to the Matriachs to complain about a few trespasses of tribal law. I'm a loyal customer too. I'll charge more for my trades once I'm a Brave, though. I have a suspicion he's been underpaying me because he knows I have no one else who'll trade with an outcast.

Got Arana’s spear back from a Scrapper. It took a long time to track, I had to cross most of the Embrace to find it. Managed to tease it away from the herd and take it out mostly from a distance. When I returned to them with the spear, she and her father were kind to me. It was…different, but nice. Thok, once I got him standing again, even helped make some structural improvements to my spear based on his mate's design.

Walked back along the bridge by the southern gate in full view of the guards and towers. Soon they won’t scorn me. Call it savouring their bitterness for the last time. The view is as beautiful as ever. The river goes on further than I can see.

Climbed the rock trail the fast way and got Grata’s prayer beads for her. No idea how she made it up there to begin with. Rested there a while.

Met Rost at the north gate and tried to sleep until dark. He seemed even less keen than usual on talking. I tried to bring up my plan for us to stay in contact once I was made a Brave. He could stay his silent, devout self while I could come to him and speak, completely one-sided. My crime only. He didn't want to listen. Doesn't matter. I'll keep bothering him whether he likes it or not.

Beyond the Embrace for the first time to hunt a machine called a Sawtooth, twice the size of a Strider and ten times as fierce, rending claws, like an oversized scraper. The huge blaze canister on its belly made an easy target, and I put my Tripcaster to good use bringing it down to shock. Good haul from the carcass. With all the fire and ruin, you’d have thought there were a stampede of the things. Apparently there were only three. I got the last one.

The tribe owe me one already. Maybe Rost is right, and they’ll need me, even be grateful to me after all this time. I don’t know if I can accept that. I haven’t really thought about what I’ll do once I know the truth about my mother. That’s what all of this has been for. Happiness beyond that? Maybe. As long as Rost is here, if silent, and the wilds continue to surprise.

[saviorpilled]

confliction is what makes the heart.

(3laf rp)

vyris found maria just where they had left her.

the space was pitch black, but distorting shapes of deep blues shifted all around them, nearly mimicking earth’s trees and falling leaves. the only light was the golden sword maria was sitting before in a position of faux prayer with that damned thread laid across both her palms. her back was turned to them but she shifted and corrected her posture as vyris grew closer.

the last time either of them were here there was bloodshed. the two of them nearly ceased to be.

they were so tall standing over her. the faint warbling sound of their body and the click of their robotic arm finally got her to turn around, eyes fixed on theirs.

it had been a long few months since either of them had been together in person. despite their spats and threats, vyris found no reason to intimidate now. they kneeled down beside maria. she watched every move they made but noted their lack of weaponry. a surprise to say the very least. she let go of the thread, leaving it to gently wave around in the nonexistent wind.

the silence was suffocating. vyris scoffed. “of all places,” they droned. their voice sounded just as maria remembered it: deep, with that slight, yet so distinctly them, static trill lacing every word. “did you just bring me here to take my other arm?”

maria averted her gaze to the ground below them. she knew they were only joking yet it still stung, pierced like a knife. oh the irony.

“no,” she shook her head shamefully. “i’ve learned my lesson.” her hand subconsciously found its way to her own arm, the one mirroring vyris’ prosthetic. her thumb idly brushed across her sleeve.

another beat of silence.

“i frankly don’t know why you’ve turned down the idea.” maria was quiet for a second while pondering her choice of words. “i know… that you think you’re doing something right and smart, but like i had said, you and i both know how this is going to end.”

“you don’t know anything-“ “i think i know more than you, vyris.”

they turned finally to look at her. maria’s gaze was still to the ground.

“ive known pest far longer than you have, much deeper than you. your ‘observations’ don’t mean shit. you don’t know him the way that i do. your strives for perfection is nothing but a death wish.” vyris huffed, adjusting the clear mask over their mouth. “but what if it did somehow manage to clamor out on top, hm? will i get to laugh and say i told you so?” maria balled up her fists. “if he wins, even if it just gets close, sure. but i know without a doubt it will not be a victory because of your trials. you will not fix pest. there is nothing to fix.”

vyris looked to the sword. they stood and drew closer to it, long, clawed fingers settling gently on the tip of the hilt. “it’s not fixing. it’s awakening. our world is… cruel, uncertain, beyond here is even worse. pest- the program is far too fragile. to be a bridge you must be sturdy.”

maria said nothing. vyris continued their nonsensical ramblings.

“i still cannot get it through my head why you are so against this. you want me gone one minute, but i ask for your agreement to freedom and yet, you deny deny deny.” as they spoke they circled the sword. they trampled over the slack of the thread with each step. “what if i just took your soul from you? pierced your chest with my own hand and wrenched it out? shouldn’t i just take what i want? ‘could call it payback.”

“you wouldn’t dare.” maria stood, stepping backwards to put even more distance between the two of them. “you got your payback the moment it happened.”

vyris laughed. “‘i’m glad you think you scare me,’ yeah right.” they stopped, hand still rested on the hilt. they stared directly at maria with all three of their irisless eyes. “i don’t wish to argue anymore. i want a straight answer: why are you denying this?"

maria hesitated. there was no point in trying to skirt around this anymore. vyris was annoyingly persistent, and so she ultimately decided to spare herself the headache. “your strives for perfection are parallel to my reasoning. you want things to be exactly as you think it should be for the sake of your own gain. i want unity. i wish you were gone, i wish you didn’t exist because you’re nothing but a reminder of everything i failed to be-“

vyris froze, eyes growing wide. that was… something.

“-im no protector, no hero. you talk so much about ‘correcting’ pest to make us all whole again. but there truly is nothing to fix. you trying to change him will only make things worse. and i don’t see how you don’t see that. pest does not recognize complexities. there is only good and bad. you pushing and pushing is doing nothing but solidifying that distrust. things will not change the way you want them to.”

maria let out a breath before continuing. she was avoiding all eye contact with her other half.

“pest wants you dead. more than anything.”

“and you let it return to my dwelling?” “i was scared of you being impulsive in relation to his absence. he… doesn’t know. about the thread.” vyris sighs loudly. “you need to tell it.” “i know! but i just- i don’t know how!” maria’s body tensed. vyris almost felt bad for her. “i’m terrified because what if it ruins things?”

“you rather risk your life, everything that you’ve built, for the sake of comfort?”

…

“i guess so. what a fool i am.”

vyris takes a long breath, finally drawing away from the sword.

“it has to be you.”

“i know.”

“im not stopping my progress. i’m not stopping my creations. it’s much too late now. my analysis will continue regardless, and plans will not be altered. but you must tell him. sooner rather than later, preferably.”

“will you let me see him?”

“yes. for one night. after that it’s back to work.”

“right.”

vyris then walked past her, away from the sword, away from their thread, away from the swirling static colors making up their version of a sky. each step of their boot clicked. each click slowly turned to the deafening cry of cicadas.

until suddenly it was quiet again.

and once more the princess was left with nothing to guide her but the light of her sword.

[five-bi-five-mind]

Much Needed Distraction

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader

Words: 2.8k+

Genre: Smut 

Summary: Finals were really getting to you, especially now that you’re a grad student. Unfortunately, you have a bad case of writers block trying to complete the seminar paper before the deadline. Luckily, JJ is here to help with that, even if her methods may be.. interesting.

Warnings: Oral (r receiving), Strap-on (r receiving), top!JJ, bottom!Reader, JJ being a little bit of a dom... 

A/N: Listen I know I took inspiration from my actual situation right now. Is that weird? Maybe. But who doesn’t want JJ to come distract them...

(gif not mine; credit to creator)

“Knock knock.” A gentle voice came from the doorway to your bedroom. You were currently sitting on your bed, laptop resting on your legs, as your back was propped up behind an ungodly amount of pillows. Yet, no matter the number you still couldn’t get comfortable. Not when the blinking cursor of the word doc in front of you felt like it was mocking you.

You didn’t even acknowledge the voice as it repeated. Your eyes were glued to the screen and your brain was still going in circles trying to think of something intelligent to add to the document. You had three days. Only three days to somehow miraculously pump out 15 pages on a topic you weren’t necessarily sure you wanted to study anymore. Not when you’ve been driving yourself a little crazy trying to meet this deadline. At some point, you weren’t entirely sure when the words you were typing started to sound somehow fake. You were that far gone in the haze of academic panic. 

“I brought the coffee you asked for.” The voice said a little louder this time. That caught your attention. Your head snapped up immediately upon hearing one single word. You didn’t even hear the rest of the sentence, all you heard was “coffee” and somehow you were convinced your prayers were answered. 

JJ smirked, having realized that’s what finally stopped your silent stewing. She knew you were exhausted and stressed, she could see it in your eyes, but she also thought it was somewhat amusing to see how focused you get when you worked. JJ walked further into your bedroom, coffee in hand and her grin grew wider as she realized your eyes never left the coffee cup as it moved towards you. “How long have you been working?” She said as she stood right in front of you. 

“I don’t know four… five hours maybe?” You honestly hadn’t been paying attention to the time. The only thing you were paying attention to was that page count as you tried your hardest to meet the minimum requirement for your graduate seminar. 

“Jesus,” JJ muttered. “Have you taken a break?” You just shrugged, impatiently reaching out for the cup in her hands. She handed it to you gently, her hands wrapping around yours as yours slipped around it, urging you to slow down a little as you grabbed it. The last thing you wanted was a cup of coffee to spill directly all over your laptop and bed after all. 

Graciously, you took a long gulp of your drink, groaning at how good the warmth of the coffee felt going down your throat. It was almost as if you could feel the caffeine starting to wake up your entire body again after having sat on your bed in front of a screen far too long. You kept drinking, letting yourself not think about the paper just for a few brief moments so you could enjoy something as small as a cup of coffee brought to you by your girlfriend. Words wouldn’t even begin to describe how appreciative you were of her in that moment.

JJ just stared at you as you drank, watching as you hummed your appreciation while downing the coffee. She gave you a small smile before softly placing the palm of her hand to your cheek and leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “You’re welcome, I think,” She chuckled as she straightened back up. “So, are you almost done?” You just shook your head and kept sipping on your drink. Your eyes flicked up to JJ again, this time to see slight worry behind the gentle smile she gave you. 

“God, I don’t miss college,” JJ sympathized as she moved to sit herself down at the foot of your bed.

“Grad school is much worse,” you grumbled into your cup.

“Oh, I remember,” JJ sighed as she eyed you. Your attention turned back to the word document in front of you. Finally, you felt satisfied with the amount of caffeine you just ingested. With the coffee placed safely on the nightstand to your side, you tried your best to will the caffeine you just chugged to give you the much needed inspiration and strength to continue on with this ridiculous seminar paper. But as you returned to the document and saw the blink of the cursor you felt that sinking, defeated feeling again. “How long have you just been staring at the screen?”

God, how long was it? You had no idea how to answer that. You didn’t really know when you went from being productive, to spouting out absolute nonsense, to finally running out of steam. All you knew was that you had been staring blankly at that screen for a good while now. 

“Maybe an hour?” You mumbled in shame, your eyes never leaving the screen. If only you could just will your fingers to type. You had more to say, you knew you did, but you just couldn’t get yourself to put them into coherent sentences. 

Your mind was so busy trying to produce something to further the page count in front of you that you didn’t even hear JJ hum “I have a fix for that…” before she started to make her way towards you on the bed. It took her hand finally touching your leg from where she began to crawl from below that finally caught your attention. 

You watched curiously as JJ crawled up the bed towards you. With one hand, JJ pushed you to lean further back and then pushed your laptop until it was resting not on your lap anymore, but on your stomach. You tilted your head and gave her a questioning look but JJ just smirked back at you as her hands dragged themselves from your waist to your legs, slowly moving down your thighs. 

Her body came back down with her as her hands landed on your knees. With her hands right where she wanted them, she grabbed at you and moved you until your legs were open for her. What startled you next was that she began to scoot even further down the bed until she was laying on her stomach and settled with her head right between your legs. 

“JJ!” You squeaked, not at all expecting this to be her next move. “Hey what are you-”

“Start typing…” She mumbled, her lips ghosting over your inner thigh. 

“But I-” 

“Type.” She ordered in a firm voice. Her tone plus the look she gave you as you peeked over your laptop and down to where her face rested was incentive enough to obey. Suddenly, you found yourself able to type. Your fingers tapped away at the keys and you were actually producing sentences. JJ’s lips kept kissing up and down the most sensitive places on your inner thighs where your shorts didn’t cover and anytime you so much as hesitated on your next keystroke, she took her lips away. It was entirely possible that what you were writing was utter garbage and you were just making things up as you went in order to keep feeling JJ’s irresistible touch on your skin, however you didn’t really care. You’d address that problem when you finally finished and entered the proofreading phase. For now, you just wanted to meet your requirement and enjoy the feeling of JJ’s tongue slowly dragging its way up your thigh to where you wanted it most. 

Without any warning, you suddenly felt JJ grab at your shorts and give them a hard tug. You were impressed with the sheer strength JJ showed to lift you in a split second and rip them off of you, even if you did have to act fast to keep your laptop balanced on your stomach. 

“Hey!” You yelped as JJ went from discarding your shorts to tugging at your underwear as well.

“Did I tell you to stop?” JJ’s voice was taunting as she finally got what she wanted. You started typing again the moment you felt like your laptop wasn’t going to slide off your stomach and hit the floor or, worse, JJ’s face. And the minute you did, JJ had you completely nude from the waist down. 

You couldn’t help the shiver that went through your whole body as you felt her breath ghost your slit, but you were proud of yourself for not stopping. Words kept flowing onto the document and you were determined to keep going. At this point, it wasn’t for your grade or even your own sanity. No, it was for the fact that you knew if you kept going JJ would finally touch in a way you didn’t realize you were dying to be touched. 

Finally, you felt her tongue on you. You bit your lip hard to hold back the moan that threatened to escape as her tongue licked up through the entirety of your folds. It was a little too embarrassing how turned on you were from JJ barely even touching you, but when her tongue ran over your clit your fingers faltered and you made a string of typos. It was maybe a little too aggressive when you repeatedly hit the backspace to erase the line of gibberish you just wrote, but you couldn’t help the way your hands were moving. It was a miracle they weren’t just gripping the sheets, or better yet, her hair. Even JJ was a bit surprised that you were still typing, especially when she could feel how wet you were getting with every flick of her tongue. 

Your breath was coming fast as her lips wrapped around your clit and you felt her starting to gently suck. You didn’t want her to stop, but you also were really struggling not to let go into the sensations JJ was causing for you. Without much thought, your head tilted back and you felt your fingers start to slow on the keys. However, that didn’t go unnoticed by JJ. Her hand found its way back to your thigh again and it only took one squeeze for you to understand that that was a warning that if you stopped, she stopped. However, the more she was playing with your clit the closer you were getting to an orgasm and while you really wanted to cum for her, you didn’t think you could keep typing at the same time. Would JJ stop when you were right on the edge? You were already losing your mind from this paper, if she edged you tonight too you didn’t think you could handle it.  

But then you felt her hands move back up your abdomen until she reached where your laptop was resting. With a gentle snap, she shut the laptop and began to crawl up your body. Part of you was ready to pout, not wanting that delicious sensation JJ was creating to be over. But then she took the laptop from you and placed it on the floor next to the bed. 

“I thought you said to keep typing?” You questioned breathlessly. 

“I did,” JJ grinned as she started to drape herself over your whole body. “And you did so good for me. I think it’s time for a break and maybe a little reward…” JJ trailed off as her hands pushed your shirt up and off before leaning down to pepper kisses all over your chest. “Don’t you?” She asked as her hips began to grind against yours. And for the first time, since she came into the room you noticed it. As JJ’s hips were grinding into your bare one’s, you realized what was underneath her clothes. 

“Why do you have-” you thought to ask. Your head clearing up enough to form at least one coherent thought, despite your girlfriend currently leaving small bite marks across your neck and chest.

“Because,” JJ interrupted. “I knew you’d need the distraction.” Her hands went to her pants, starting to push them down and off. “Now, I asked you a question.” She started as her hands grabbed at the strapon connected to her hips. “Don’t you think it’s time for a little reward?” 

All you could do was nod and watch as JJ leaned back enough to grab your legs and pull them over her hips. She had the toy lined up with your entrance in no time, yet she made no move. “Yes,” You finally realized what she was waiting for. “Yes, please. I want it,” you begged breathlessly. Your paper and all your frustrations were long forgotten at this point. All you could focus on was how badly you wanted JJ to finally fuck you. And fuck you she did.

It took her a split second to register your words. JJ herself was too captivated by the sight of you beneath her, wet and dripping, skin flushed from already being worked up close to the edge by her. She could still taste you on the tip of her tongue and she was lost in her intoxication for you from the moment she started. Yes, she did bring the toy so that you might get a nice little reward for completing so much work today and she was planning to use it to get you to relax a little. But what she wasn’t planning for was how badly she needed to be buried inside you the minute she saw how cute and focused you were. She really just wanted to ruin you and have your attention all on her from the minute you walked in the door. It wasn’t her fault that her resolve broke so fast with the way your tongue peaked out of your lips to catch a drop of your coffee, or how you looked adorably pouty when you stared at your computer screen. 

JJ tried to start off slow, she really did, but the minute you were filled with her you couldn’t hold back the sounds you were making and it was really hard for her to pace herself when all she wanted to do was make you moan for her even more. Your head fell back onto the pillows when JJ drew her hips back, sliding her faux cock almost all the way out of you before snapping them forward. In this moment you were so glad you weren’t typing anymore, because with each time JJ buried herself into you, your hands squeezed harder at the bed sheets. 

JJ’s hands were holding your hips in a bruising grip as she continued to fuck you and the whole time her cock was pumping in and out of you she kept telling you how good you were being and how well you were taking her. The combination of her praises and the way her cock was hitting just the right places deep inside you had you quickly reapproaching the edge. You could feel your wetness drip down your thighs as her cock fucked into you in a steady, yet disorienting pace. 

When JJ sped her pace up even more and you felt her nails dig into your bare skin so she could fuck into you harder, you couldn’t help but cry out her name. This only spurred her movements on even more, though. Wanting a better angle, JJ got to her knees, keeping your legs hooked to her hips so she could take you with her and fuck you deeper. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt her cock go deeper than you were used to. JJ usually didn’t fuck you like this, but there was something about JJ’s lack of holding back with you tonight that was incredibly satisfying. She was fucking herself into you with as much speed as she could while still maintaining a steady rhythm and your legs were beginning to shake at the intensity of it all. 

“That’s right, baby,” JJ growled as her hips snapped into you with more force. “Cum for me.” Your knuckles were turning white from how hard you were gripping the sheets and the room was now filled with the sounds of skin against skin and your moans as you completely lost control of yourself. Within seconds of JJ’s orders, you finally found yourself coming all over her cock, crying out yet again as you did. JJ’s speed slowed as she let you ride out your orgasm. She stayed inside you for a moment as you both caught your breath. After finally being able to take a deep breath, you felt her slide out of you.

“Fuck,” you chuckled as you lay on the bed before her, still naked with your legs spread open. “I needed that.”

“I know,” JJ gave you a cocky grin. “Write five more pages and maybe we can do it all again.”

You didn’t even hesitate to snatch your laptop from the floor. As your fingers found themselves gliding across the keyboard yet again, typing away with impressive speed, you thought maybe this was what you’d need from now on to survive grad school. Lucky for you, JJ was more than willing to give it to you.

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[fakesurprise]

There Are No Angels Here

I remember the first time. There are things, if you don’t pay attention. If you don’t know where you go, watch where you’re looking. Lines of salt have power over a few, but not enough. There are places where shadows are but the world isn’t. Thin places, I’ve heard them called but there is nothing thin about them. I knew a kid who wanted to master them. Stole some book that only looked like a book. Made me feel wrong to be near it, and then him as well.

Don’t know what it did. But it was weeks before we stopped hearing his screams on the wind.

Me? I’m smart enough to know about weird shit and not be part of it. You don’t haveta poke a fork into every light switch you see. But some do. Things happen. Something changes. Shifts. Moves. Most people have a feel for it, even if they don’t think they do. Places we avoid. People we eye warily without knowing why. All of that makes sense.

The first time I saw. Well. There was this – I don’t know what words for it. I’ve never been good at words. Tommy said it looked like worms had opened a door to Hell and were building cathedrals from cinnamon and rust, but Tommy always was saying weird shit like that. It was wrong and dangerous and we knew we were too far away to be safe. All we knew about such things was how to run from them.

And then something else was in the room, and the creature was gone.

We made it out. I went home to the wife, so happy I remembered to bring her a gift from the store that wasn’t stolen, and even a gift for our kid, never mind that she wasn’t mine. Two years later, in Cambodia. Checking in on an operation, some idiot decides he can stop us and speaks words that aren’t Words. And then something is in the jungle, and the words end.

A year after that, also near the holidays, one of those Inland Empire cities everyone forgets about. Something was bad for business, so we were trying to stop it. Only it turned out not to be a person, for all that it hunted people. We had bullets and prayers and luck and none of that was worth a damn. And then the figure was there, and the creature was gone.

That time I saw it, and never told anyone. I thought it was going to come for me, that I was some kind of – I don’t know what. And if I thought that, others would too. It was stopping monsters, not saving mobsters.

Last time was – well. You remember the whole Camden incident. Shipment vanished. Turned out something has eaten the town and was pretending to be it, and we had no way to know that until it was too late. Some of those nasty things are smart, the kind that hides from us being able to tell something was wrong. It was real bad, last week. We’d come armed, but not armed to fight a town. No one does that expect in the movies.

People weren’t people. Everything that too many teeth, and all of it was alive and hungry. Even the Christmas tree that ate Frank. I was out of hope, we were in a circle and then it was there. Again. Looking like a child, but it wasn’t a child at all. The not-town-thing screamed in fear, and the boy just snapped his fingers and it was a town again. People again. Something was wrong, then he pressed his hands together and it wasn’t. I don’t know what he did, but it meant he was there longer than a moment.

And I was empty, so empty of bullets, hopes, fear, and I walked over.

“You saved our lives.”

The boy looked up, and his expression was strangely still. “I did. Someone needs a vacation this time of year. I help that happen.”

“Santa?” I asked, because nothing was making sense at all.

Bright eyes sharpened. “No. Someone important.”

And the boy was gone, as if he’d never been there at all.

Frank was dead. Nothing could change that. But people – it’s not like the forget people had died, but they made peace quicker than normal. Something the boy had done, to make this place safe and not get noticed.

I didn’t quit, because you don’t quit. Not from our line of work. I went home though, to the empty house. Packed things.

I haven’t seen you in four years. I doubt you’ll come back, when they declare me dead. But I thought I should leave a note. In case you encounter something weird.

I’m not good at gifts, but maybe this is one? There are no angels here but maybe there is something like hope, for other people than me.