#and if there was heaven he was worried that the weight of sin his darling was drenched in at the moment of his passing
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forgive me if this has been answered previously, but what were the circumstances around vasco finding out about machete's death? i'm heartbroken but fascinated to think about what his immediate reaction could have been
They don't live together, Vasco was at home in Florence at the time. Either someone who knew of their relationship managed to alert him of the murder, or he showed up in Rome to visit him just like countless of times before, and one time he was just gone. He would've missed the funeral for sure, and since Machete doesn't have family, his belongings would most likely end up escheated and subsequently liguidated by the church. He certainly wasn't remembed fondly, for the most part it was like he had never been there in the first place.
I don't want to get into the details but of course he was devastated. The threat of death was a constant presence in Machete's later years, he survived at least a couple of assassination attempts and his health kept getting worse. I think he tried to keep Vasco in the dark about how bad things were exactly, but Vasco didn't miss how his fear of death ramped up in intensity towards the end. So it wasn't a complete surprise when he found out they had finally gotten him. For a long time he had hard time not blaming himself for it, thinking whether he could've done something to prevent the outcome, whether his presence would've changed how things played out. Over the years he learned to live with the sudden and violent end of their relationship, but the first few years were extremely rough, the whole ordeal broke him in unprecedented ways and he never fully recovered to his previous state.
#Vasco had never been devoutly religious but after Machete's death he went through some kind of combo of spiritual phase and crisis in faith#because for years Machete had tried very hard to be the best and most godly version of himself#and in return God did very little to alleviate his fears and troubles#and on the other hand Vasco knew that towards the end Machete's morals had eroded significantly#and he had become alarmingly resentful and vicious#and if there was heaven he was worried that the weight of sin his darling was drenched in at the moment of his passing#might prevent them from being reunited there#over the years he went through all the stages of grief in prayer form#and spend a significant sum of money buying indulgences in hopes it might make the difference#answered#tattwege-edgweg#Machete#Vasco#Vaschete lore#but I'm reminding you that I personally like to believe that a good ending alternative is possible for them#one that doesn't end quite as bleakly
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"𝔏𝔢𝔱 𝔐𝔢 𝔖𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔅𝔲𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔫."
Trigger Warnings: Suicidal Ideation, Mention of Self-Harm, Mention of Rape (That Resulted in Pregnancy), Mention of Binge Eating, Mention of Weight (By a Disgusting Man), Depression, Anxiety.
⤷ Remember: Every body type is beautiful, and you're legally allowed to maim those who say otherwise! The brief few sentences in this story are not accurate of any decent, sane individual.
Word Count: 1887
~~~~~~~~~~
Depression had you caged, shackled to the memories...the all-consuming sensations of horror and disgust. The very same that were forced upon you, that iced all your muscles twelve hellish months ago. Twelve! And yet, the nightmares refused to cease. Every evening, you battled demons most powerful and foul, acquiring scar after scar after scar. If you stumbled, if you lay down your weapon or lost...could you really be faulted? If this was Heaven's retribution, a cleansing of your contaminated, sinful body, then...was it not misguided? Surely a void replaced the evidence against you?
Blame should never have befallen you! This child, despite his mask of innocence, attested to humanity's ugliest side. Your heart was unravelling - you needed him, as an extension of yourself, as someone to cherish, but...you didn't want him. He wasn't the product of consent. He was loathsome...and a burden. He was so young, so dependent.
Casting him to the mercy of the streets would be more than a mere violation of morality. You already felt criminal - convicted on thoughts and false claims, serving a life sentence in the bowels of Hell. There was an escape, of course. Although...it wasn't accompanied by a light, or the gentle touch of a loved one. No...this escape was advertised as selfish, shameful...weak. And maybe so. Maybe life's greatest demand was the forgoing of happiness. But...to such an extent seemed excessive, and deliberately cruel. You shouldn't have been so dirty, so broken...an embarrassing stain on your family's name.
A single mother. A victim. A failure.
Plagued with flashbacks that favoured spontaneity above calculation, you carved miserable little lines on to your arms. Nobody knew - not your son, nor the Avengers...nor even Loki. They all harboured some form of trauma, however deep-rooted, and so...they had no need for your sob story. Who would care for someone so violated? Someone so...afraid? Your mind, weakened by fatigue and chronic worry, was simply too weak to resist those thoughts, and all hope had been drained from your heart. Why should you be tethered to life, if only for your child? Should you instead seek liberation, peace...joy? Decency discouraged it, but pain stood its ground.
With your dignity in shambles, your disowning, your binging...nothing felt right anymore! Nothing felt...clean. Loki had noticed, observant as he was. Here, sequestered within the walls of the Avengers' Compound, he was the closest to a friend...maybe even more.
No, no, no! I can't think like that! He's a man! A man! I shouldn't even be going near him anymore! Why, oh god...why is he the only one I'm not afraid of? The only one who can comfort me when I break? I can't...! I haven't even told him about...about...Well, I haven't told anyone! They all just think I slept with someone recklessly! And now...now I'm tainted, unlovable! This is...it's all my fault...I should have defended myself. I should have done something! Anything! Why...why did I freeze...? Why? Why?! Why?!!
Loki understood mental anguish and the torture of dissimilarity, as his birth-rights. Perhaps that was reason enough for your breathing to even, in his embrace. It had taken moths to allow such a privilege, and Loki's persistence, how his voice quivered as he begged to help you in any form...
You, whom he held so very dear...
You might have assumed his affections romantic, once upon a time. Yet...no longer. An ailment had struck you - one that rendered both eyes and ears ignorant to his double meanings, his implications...his love. You couldn't process them over the fear and paranoia. Didn't all relationships entail force, and...activities of a sexual nature? You never wanted to experience that again. Never! So, while sleep washed over the Compound, you crept to the kitchen, intent on expanding your waistline evermore. That your size may, to some, be cause for revulsion, had never previously occurred. It was only when the words danced on the tongue of that godforsaken man...
Eat, eat more! Who cares if you're sick? Keep eating! He said...he said that excess was unattractive. So - so maybe he won't...maybe I won't be...again...?
It had been dominance play, a show of superiority.
Loki would never steal something so sacred, unless you willed it.
He was a gentle soul, manipulated into committing an atrocity, and scorned - by the Avengers, especially. He wouldn't find any resonance in your tale (and you hoped he never would), but as a companion, a patient listener...surely there would be no judgement in his heart? He wouldn't be so quick to abandon you...right? Still, a single utterance of that day, of that most fright-inducing event...required courage far surpassing your own. Maybe...just a word? A sign? Something...?
Lonely was the path you wandered, in spite of Loki's presence. Alone, he failed to drown your demons. He held them under the waves, but they always returned.
You appreciated the effort. Plasters may cover your scars, but they could never heal your heart. Could Loki?...In time? If distorted thoughts of him were enough to ground you in the midst of panic...could he aid your recovery?
He also wondered that. Your deception wasn't half as masterful as you had hoped. Or perhaps you were simply the target of Loki's observations, and therefore came under frequent scrutiny. He had, of course, picked up on the subtle changes in your demeanour - particularly post-pregnancy. He idled at your side, throwing neither intrusive question nor accusation. This was at the behest of his conscience, although he longed desperately to ignore it. He wanted to know...what exactly happened last year, when your transformation began?
Your lips were sealed, but his very essence ached - sorrow, curiosity, love, sympathy and compassion all melding together within him. They ran amuck, refusing any whisper of sleep. His concentration had flown alongside it, rendering him unable to enjoy the book that rested in his palm. It had maintained a decent level of interest until now, but duty called. He would pry open your chamber door, glimpse your ethereal, sleeping form...and finally feel content. If you were strolling through dreamland, then his concern could dissipate. At least for a while. If not...he would discover why.
Loki hesitated outside your door, for if you were truly non-the-wiser, asleep...vulnerable, then a mere survey of yourself and the room would leave, on his tongue, a terrible aftertaste.
But, lo and behold, only your young son slept soundly, in his crib.
Loki was grappled now with a sense of alarm - where in Odin's name were you? And, pray tell...why was your child on his lonesome, cleansing himself of the prior day, in such a frigid room? He was wrought with grief upon recalling your distaste for the babe, and again when he realised there was no option to remove him, bring him to a warmer space, rock him and sing soft melodies...
Loki's primary goal was to find you, and perhaps...coerce you into confessing everything. From a true account of the day that always replayed in your mind, to your innermost feelings and thoughts...he needed to know, and to understand.
He had scoured half the building before laying eyes upon you. However...relief proved elusive. There were an endless number of questions, but none dared to grace the air. Why was your beautiful face stained with tears? Why were you eating, despite looking so sickly? What had troubled you so? And...could he kill it? He was unsure of the proper manner in which to approach you. He had always tread lightly, but complete silence and delicacy were more fortes of his mother. He swallowed down the nerves.
"(Y/n), darling...why aren't you sleeping?"
You startled, eyes bloodshot and a biscuit lodged between your lips. "U-Uh..."
He walked forward. "Is there something weighing on your mind?"
"...No?" This was mumbled, as though credence escaped you.
"My dear, you aren't a skilled liar. Talk to me, please." The heartache nearly tore him apart.
You wouldn't meet his gaze. "I...I can't."
"Please?" Both of your voices cracked, in unison.
Oh god, alright. Okay. This if fine...right? It's fine. I'm fine...Am I? What if I'm not?! I can't tell him just yet! But he looks so upset...I did this! I caused this! Oh god...just stay - stay calm! Calm down...calm down...
A tear trickled down your cheek, then another. "I-I've never...I don't want to - to relive it."
He brought you into a protective embrace. "Then you won't. I swear, by all the beings in the Nine Realms, that I will keep you safe. Please, let me share your burden."
Three sentences. Who was so weak-willed, that a mere three sentences shattered all their defences? You cursed his silver tongue. "(S-S/n)...! He - he's...I didn't...I-I don't want him! J-Just because I didn't fight back...I didn't try to run, he...t-that man, he did...things. To me. And now...now I'm so dirty! I'm disgusting...unclean, weak. B-But...sometimes - sometimes I think it's all in my head. But it isn't! I-It happened, and (S/n)! He's...he's the proof! He reminds me...o-of that..."
Loki froze. "What...?"
"But I-I couldn't - I couldn't tell anyone! They wouldn't...believe me, o-or care! People like me, they don't - this...this doesn't happen! Why...why did this happen?? A-And now...there's (S/n). And every...every minute is Hell! I can't take it anymore...I don't w-want to be here. I don't want to be...to be alive anymore..."
Loki could almost see the threads of rationality thinning. Who would...defile you, hurt you? You were so important, so genuine and...lovely. "I will find this man, and personally deliver his comeuppance. He never deserved your voice, let alone your touch."
"No!" You stiffened in his arms. "Then he'll...he'll come back..."
"If he does, I shall slay him." Yet, Loki made no attempt to leave. Instead, he slipped into a mask of composure, enough to continue speaking without seething. "I apologise...if you thought I wouldn't care. I do - more than you could ever imagine. You are the most stunning creature I have had the honour of meeting, in all my lifetime. I was resolved to spend my days at your side, never professing my love, but after hearing that...I..."
You panicked. "Loki...don't. Please-"
"I know it would be impudent to assume that you could accept me right now, but consider that...I can protect you. I will never let him, or anyone, hurt you again." Loki wiped away your crystalline sadness. "But, please...when you can't see worth or joy in this life...please come to me. I will be here to remind you of your victory - you survived such torture, and delivered a child. You are far from weak, (Y/n)."
Loki's fingers darted along your wrist. He yearned to kiss every scar, every inch of your skin.
Though, he would do nothing without permission. "Now, my dear...let's put these treats away. I would suggest that, henceforth, you eat balanced meals and partake in some fun activities. Perhaps I could read to you, one day? And venturing out for a walk - we can do that together. I...um, hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries. I'm simply thinking of ways to occupy your mind...and your time. You can do these things alone, of course..."
You nodded. "But...you'd - you'd do them with me?"
"I would gladly do anything with you, my love." Loki's words were empty of duplicity.
You were angelic - the only one safe from his lies.
#loki x reader#loki x suicidal reader#loki x self-harm reader#loki laufeyson#mcu loki#loki odinson x reader#loki laufeyson x reader#angst#loki x single mother reader#rape
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A Soldier’s Birthday
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader or Bucky Barnes x You
Warnings: Smut (y’all wrap it before you tap it), language
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: Sooooo it’s Sunday guys. Enjoy the Sin! You can also find this on ao3.
Masterlist
James Buchanan Barnes has had many birthdays, and hopefully many more to come. Especially if you were part of the picture. The day started out as lovely as ever: the perfect breakfast in bed (you had gotten up extra early to beat his time and surprise him), surprises and small gifts from friends. Tony, being the Stark that he is, decided it was best to throw a party for the ex- Winter Soldier; he felt as though Tony was just using an excuse. You catered to his every want and need with extra attention today, making sure Bucky would have a good day; it was well deserved in your eyes.
“Do we have to go to this party, doll?” Bucky asked as he threw on the last piece to his plain outfit – a simple dress shirt and pants, nothing extravagant – as you changed in the bathroom, applying little makeup as you didn’t want to take attention away from your dress.
“Yes!” You called out. “Just for a little while, baby. He really wants us to be there and it is in your name after all.”
“I rather just sit in,” Bucky mumbled.
You smiled at yourself in the mirror as you were satisfied with your work, stepping out of the bathroom with swaying hips. Bucky turned towards you as you did, his hungry eyes covering every inch of you. The dress was a beautiful medium length red, with a slit down the sides starting from your thigh; you smirked when you first laid eyes on the dress, knowing it was sure to drive Bucky crazy: your thighs were one his favorite parts to hold on to in extreme ecstasy.
Bucky licked his lips, not taking his eyes off your form. “Are you sure we should go darling? I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off you.”
You took a few steps towards him until you were close enough to feel his breath fan across your face. You leaned up until your lips were mere centimeters from his; Bucky loved this game just as much as you did. The teasing, the forbidden small looks and touches, the rush of people seeing, the build up! It was heaven for the both of you. A delicious game that always ended in both of you (sometimes only Bucky if you were misbehaving) fucked out but completely blissful.
“Be a good boy and I’ll give you my last present after, okay?”You backed away with a smirk at James’s already dazed and hungry state.
“I’m going to fucking wreck you.” He growled, smacking your ass hard as you walked by to the door, yelping as he did so.
It didn’t take long to get to the tower from your shared apartment. The tension between the two of you was hot and thick, and you loved it. Like a predator hunting for his prey, his eyes stalked you as you paraded around the party.
“So, how’s your little plan working out so far?” Natasha teased you as you were both huddled in a corner with drinks in your hands.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you feigned innocence as you took a sip.
“Oh please,” Natasha scoffed. “I see what you’re doing with that dress. And Barnes sure isn’t hiding the fact that he’s been undressing you with his eyes since you both got here.”
You grinned around your glass, eyes searching for Bucky’s. He was standing with Steve and Sam, laughing and chatting away. This had to be the first time all night he’s taken his lustful eyes off you.
It was you and Steve who brought out the cake, giving a loving kiss to his cheek as everyone sang happy birthday. You made it a point to gather some of the icing on your finger and suck it off your finger in front of him, making sure no one else was paying attention; his eyes immediately went dark as he imagined your lips around your cock. It didn’t take long after for Bucky to call it an early night and practically drag you out of there, Natasha giving you a wink and a thumbs up as you waved bye to her.
Times like these were when you were so fucking lucky you and Bucky had your own place. No worries over anyone barging in or having to be quiet. There was no holding back. And it was fucking perfect.
“Do you realize how much effort it took to not bend you over that bar and fuck you in front of everyone,” Bucky growled as he pushed you onto your bed.
“What are you going to do about it soldier?” You asked, already out of breath from the pure excitement.
“On your knees, now.”You obeyed instantly, done with the teasing and ready to give your man his birthday present. He was being so patient after all.
Your hands reached towards his belt, quickly unbuckling it and the button on his pants, mouth watering at the sight of his confined erection. You gave him a few soft kisses on his lower abdomen, enjoying the way his stomach muscles clenched at the feeling of her soft lips. He gripped your hair when you placed a wet kiss on his hard length through his boxers, finally pulling him out and wrapping a fist around it. He sucked in a breath at the feeling of your hand on him, buckling his hips into your hand.
“Fuuuck,” he cursed under his breath when you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, moaning at the salty taste of his precum.
You took as much of his dick in your mouth as you could, fisting what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and moving in a steady rhythm that had him breathing heavily and tug at your hair. He let you take control for a while before pumping his hips, moaning and groaning as he did so. When you felt his muscles clench and stutter under your palm he pulled you away, a string of saliva trailing from your lips.
“Strip. Hands and knees on the bed.”
God you could’ve come at the sound of his gruff, commanding tone alone. You were already so wet from sucking him off, your juices glistening on your thighs. You quickly did as you were told, your body trembling with the thoughts of what he was going to do to you. You felt the bed dip under his weight before you felt his hand glide between your thighs, gasping when you felt his fingers prodding at your wetness.
“Already this wet from sucking my dick huh, babygirl?” He chuckled, rubbing a small circle on your clit as you moaned before pulling his hand away. You whined in protest.
“I always take care of my girl,” he cooed, cupping your breast with one hand and tweaking your perk nipple as the other pumped his length at your entrance. You moaned loudly when he pushed in, you were so wet he was able to hit some many deep spots already, buried to the hilt.
“Jesus,” Bucky breathed, pulling out and watching his glistening cock disappear back into aching heat.
“James,” you whined pathetically, knowing it was such a turn on for him when you used his full name in bed.
He started to pick up the pace after a few thrusts, going harder and faster into you, clutching your hips with bruising grips; he was always careful with his metal arm. You buried your face into your pillow when your groans started to turn into screams, clutching the bedsheets tightly.
“Ah!” You shouted when he landed a hard smack against your ass, your cheek already turning red.
“I wanna hear all of those pretty noises baby,” Bucky grunted, grabbing a makeshift ponytail of your hair and tugging back lightly, lifting your head from the pillows.
Your headboard was banging against the wall now, and you couldn’t find it in you to care when he was hitting all your sweet spots with each powerful thrust and moaning and grunting as he did. You thrived off his noises of pleasure just as much as he did yours.
“James,” you gasped out as he smacked you again, groping the red spot after.
“I’m close.”
“I know.”He pulled out of you then, flipping you around on your back before you could process the loss of his dick inside your velvety walls before he quickly but carefully pushed back home.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed into her mouth before stealing a sultry kiss that was nothing but teeth and tongue.
You moaned into the kiss, meeting his thrusts the best you could as your walls fluttered around him. His hand wrapped around your throat, carefully squeezing as you gasped. His metal hand reached your pussy, rubbing his thumb on your clit, making your hips buckle.
“I’m gonna-!”
“Do it. Come for me.”
You came with a chocked shriek, your shaking legs tightening around his hips. Bucky groaned at the sight of your undone state and the feel of your walls squeezing him before coming inside you, giving a few more hard thrusts before collapsing on top of you, mindful of his crushing weight on yours.
It felt as though it was hours before you could finally regulate your breaths, Bucky waiting patiently as you did so. He reached his head up and gave you a soft kiss, pecking your lips a few more times before pulling out slowly, a groan of protest leaving the both of you.
“Happy birthday, Buck,” you broke the silence, laying on your side to face him.
Bucky smiled and cupped your cheek to kiss you. “I love you,” he said softly.
You grinned. “I love you too.”
Tags: @treehousemagicblog, @riverquartzuniverse, @beepbeepyabitch, @smol-flower-kiddo, @harps-for-days, @teenagedirtbagg2, @goththespian
#bucky barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#marvel#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#the winter soldier#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff#steve rogers#sam wilson#sebastian stan#sinful sundays#smut#fluff#smut and fluff#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes smut
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I -
I can't stop thinking about it -
About what, you ask?
An Obey Me! and Fate/Grand Order crossover
(Warning: Long post ahead!)
Either the bois get summoned to Chaldea or they're able to summon Servants themselves
(...I'm leaning towards the first)
The tomfoolery! The shenanigans!
Imagine: Humanity's Last Master (aka you) ends up summoning them as they trek through Rome with Mash and the Servants they already summoned
They set up the summoning circle, but one minor mistake is made and the summoning glow looks a bit darker than usual and BOOM
"S-...Senpai...is this normal?"
You have no idea what's normal or not, I mean you're time travelling to save your people for fucks sake -
"Servant of the Rider Class. My True Name is Lucifer. Do not expect me to cater to your every whim."
...Wait he's a what now??
They were not supposed to have this whole "Class" thing designated to them (it's not how demonic summoning works he swears), and yet they do for some reason
(You can tell I had fun thinking of their Classes)
The introductions are...cold, to say the least
"Saber Class Servant, and none other than The Great Mammon, Avatar of Greed! I got better things to be doing, so don't go calling me whenever ya want, got it?!"
"Lancer Class...Leviathan. I have an mmorpg raid coming up, so I can't stick around."
"Berserker Class. My name is Satan. What? Are you surprised that I seem calm for a Berserker? It's quite alright; I get that reaction often enough. A word of advice: Be careful what you wish for."
"My name is Asmodeus, but you can call me Asmo darling! I'm a Caster, which is good. I can't mess up the work done on my nails and hair!"
"Hm...Oh? Sorry, I was thinking about lunch. Servant Class: Ruler. I'm Beelzebub, but most people call me Beel. Do you have any snacks on you?"
"Servant Class: Avenger. My name is Belphegor, but I doubt you'll be alive long enough to remember that. I won't do your dirty work for you, human."
You are just...done at that point. You are literally carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders and their attitudes are not helping
"Yeah, yeah, here's the gist: there's a war going on and we're trying to save the planet. The future's been incinerated, and it's our job to fix what went wrong. I don't have time for your uncooperation; get on board."
(Mash is worried for your mental health)
It takes some time, but they do manage to open up to you
The main catalyst for this is when they heard you talking to Robin Hood, who was summoned in France
"Say, Master...I gotta ask: Why are you doing this?"
You pause what you're doing, shooting him an incredulous look. "You mean saving the world?" You ask in return.
He shrugs, tilting his head forward in a slight nod. "Yeah. There's other people who could do this, aren't there?"
"There isn't." The brothers hear you say firmly. Beel almost went in because he wanted a snack, but the others held him back; the conversation had peaked their interest, and they wanted to hear what you had to say.
"Robin..." Your voice comes out strained, as if you were barely holding yourself together. "I watched innocent people die in front of me. Good people. The world outside is gone. I can't even go see my family, because they're dead. I'm not expecting you to understand, but it hurts so bad that somedays I don't feel like getting up. If I die, it's all over; humanity's done. I'll never be able to see my family's smiles again, I'll never be able to hear their laughter; I'll...I'll never be able to go back home.
"So, instead of asking why I'm doing this, you should be asking "How far are you willing to go?" instead."
Robin is silent for a while. Mammon shifts on his feet. The Green Archer finally speaks, somber but curious tone filling the air. "And? What's the verdict, Master?"
Your voice has a tone of finality to it that shoots them back to the past, back towards the Celestial War. It's final, but it's tired. "Whatever it takes."
(And, so, the brothers come to understand and even sympathize with your situation a little bit. You had to fight for the sake of others without rest, you were a leader, you were a savior, but most of all...you were alone. And something about that didn't sit right with them.)
They would fit in perfectly with Chaldea's dynamics, actually
Mammon has a gold sword he lovingly calls Goldie (yes it changes into his beloved credit card)
His Noble Phantasm is literally him raising his sword and mountains of Grimm burying his opponents from the sky as he cackles out:
"Don't worry, I'll take all that money off ya hands!"
Or, in a proud declaration:
"My sword is my love, and my love is my sin. I'll take all that you have on ya! STULTUS IN AVARITA!!"
(Translates (from Google) to "Greed of the Fool")
(It also gives you an increased drop rate in materials)
Leviathan's weapon is his trident
He's surprised that he wasn't summoned as a Rider, once he got used to the "Class" thing (which was fairly quick, he's seen an anime like this before). I mean, he has a giant snake named Henry 1.0 and Lothan that he would've loved to fight side by side with
He usually doesn't fight, but he proves to be invaluable in Okeanos since he has knowledge on war strategies at sea
His Noble Phantasm is a bit strange, but endearing (sad). He rushes forward with his trident glowing, saying either:
"I can't get the latest Ruri-chan merch because you blew up the world...I won't forgive you. I can't forgive you!"
Or, in a somber tone:
"Even though it's fun, a gamer's life becomes stifling if you keep playing by yourself. I hope you're watching, (Y/N)! EX SOLA INVIDIA!!"
(Translates (from Google) to "Envy of the Lonely")
(Chance of Death increases with Overcharge, and it hits a single enemy)
Satan? Even though he's a Berserker, he behaves more like a Caster (initially)
He's holding a book that shoots out beams of pure energy at his opponents
His Noble Phantasm is...more violent
"Ah, so you've decided to call upon my Noble Phantasm...don't blame me if it's too much for you."
Or, he begins in a deathly calm voice:
"I am me; that's all I need to be. I know this, so why...? Why does this happen? TELL ME! "
He discards his books altogether, grabbing a single enemy with his bare hands and ripping them to shreds.
Asmo’s skill is charming his enemy, which confuses most people since you’d think it’d be his Noble Phantasm
Instead, it boosts his allies’ attacks and NP by 30%
“Don’t get too hurt out there~!”
Beel’s Noble Phantasm heals all allies and increases their attack
“We can’t fight on an empty stomach.”
(Once he hits his last Ascension, your party gets the added bonus of him attacking a single enemy with a lance. All other Ascensions has him using his fists for attacks.)
Belphie’s Noble Phantasm is almost as violent as Satan’s, and yes...he chokes out a single enemy out (rip MC)
“HA! You think I’d work with the likes of you, a lowly human? Get out of my sight.”
It’s Instant Death, unless Evasion or Invincibility is activated
Lucifer’s pride is a bit wounded. He’s a Rider, of all things??
(...He eventually gets used to it though)
His Noble Phantasm is him literally mounting Cerberus and raising his spear towards the heavens, looking as radiant as the days before the Fall
“It seems drastic times call for drastic measures. Cerberus, I trust you to handle things here.”
And Cerberus runs forth, either chomping the enemy in two or breathing fire at them and turning them into ash. (It hits everyone)
Satan and Jekyll hang out a lot because, well...they’re a lot alike
Mammon can and will do stupid shit with the Cu Squad and you cannot change my mind
One time he teamed up with Cascu to steal the other Cu’s spears (Mammon wanted to sell them on Akuzon), and well...half of Chaldea is still in repair to this day
Merlin of all Servants is the one to look after Belphie and Beel
They usually hang out in the garden Robin tends to, Asterios occasionally joining them while bringing both food and Euryale
Asmo frequently visits Medea, dragging Medusa into their group
(Dantes grows fond of Beel overtime, I mean Beel is just so pure there’s no way you couldn’t like him)
Lucifer and EMIYA butt heads at first, but they end up becoming friends despite that
Lucifer admires EMIYA’s skill to keep up with Servants who have a black hole for a stomach, and EMIYA admires Lucifer’s skill to round up his brothers effortlessly when the need to arises (or so he thinks, because he does not know about the Hate Lucifer Club which is run by Satan and Belphie).
Levi and Fran have a pure kind of friendship that must be protected at all costs
He shows her new animes and games, and even though she’s confused most of the time she never fails to listen to his ramblings, nodding whenit was appropriate
BONUS: Undateables (+ Luke)!
Solomon’s situation is...peculiar.
He’s not a Servant, but he behaves like one??
(He’s actually a mage that helps you on your journey to save humanity)
Unlike Da Vinci, he’s able to accompany you to the Singularities (free of charge, too!)
Once he sees the other Solomon, all he says is “I see...interesting.”
(Ngl he probably figured out everything by the time you all went to Okeanos)
Asmo also drags him into his group (consisting of Medea and Medusa), offering to paint his nails as they talk about anything and everything
Simeon is a Lancer and you can’t change my mind
He’s more of a buffer for your team, like Asmo. His skills are primarily healing, and his NP saps the health of an opponent while healing someone other than himself with that health (he cannot heal himself)
He gets along great with Karna!! The two are so nice and kind that it hurts to look at them both for too long
Solomon tells him about the gossip Asmo has on the other Servants. He always listens with an amused look on his face.
Luke is a smol Caster, but he will not hesitate to break your kneecaps
He, too, is a buffer for your team
“I’ll defend you from those demons, (Y/N)!”
His Noble Phantasm heals all allies, restoring their health by 20%
He bakes with Fsn Cu at night, having Proto Cu and Robin Hood try out his sweets. Beel is there 10/10 times, eating any failures or rejects
Diavolo is Ruler Class because he is literally the Ruler of Hell
Surprisingly (to you, at first), he’s the one who always asks to accompany you. He’s very open and considerate, wanting to help wherever and whenever he can
“The Human Realm is essential if we are to establish harmony between the three Realms. Without it there...angels and demons would fight each other for eternity.”
He tells you about his ideas for an exchange program and you offer him input
His Noble Phantasm is applying Invincibility to two allies for 3 turns after dealing heavy damage to a single enemy (cannot apply Invincibility to himself)
He likes to talk with Caster Gil and Archer Gil about their past, going to Ko Gil on occasion. He helps look after the child Servants, and he can often be found reading bedtime stories to them
(Everyone was scared of him at first once they found out who he was, so he usually held off revealing his True Identity)
Barbatos, at first glance, seems like an Archer...but in reality is an Assassin
(HE CONTROLS TIME FOR F*S SAKE)
His Noble Phantasm, depending on the enemy selected, can revive a fallen ally and add them to the Sub Team
(This is only if the enemy that killed the ally is selected)
This stuns him for 3 turns no matter what
He likes to chat with the Tamamo that helps EMIYA in the kitchen. How the two are communicating without issues is up to anyone’s guess
#This has been sitting in my drafts for DAYS so I'm sorry that I didn't go into detail with all of their Noble Phantasms#Might have to make an AU for this#I wish I could digitally art because I'd LOVE to draw for this AU#fgo crossover#obey me crossover#i rushed this due to wanting to get it out#i'll edit more later#om lucifer#om mammon#om leviathan#om satan#om asmodeus#om beelzebub#om belphegor#obey me thoughts#obey me headcanons#i won't be able to fit all the tags but i'll try my best#fate/grand order#long post#there are so many mistakes oh my god#obey me shall we date#obey me#fgo thoughts
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❝ I SAY IT’S PERFECTLY HEARTLESS YOUR EATING MUFFINS AT ALL, UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES. ❞
ALL ABOUT THEODORA
NAME: Theodora Wilkes GENDER/PRONOUNS: CIS Female, She/Her DATE OF BIRTH: January 15th, 1975 BIRTH PLACE: Crystal City, New York CURRENT RESIDENCE: Pembrooke OCCUPATION: Boss of the Wilkes family FACE CLAIM:Charlize Theron
BIOGRAPHY
Trigger Warnings: Violence, Death
It was a foggy January night when Theodore Wilkes came running into his home drenched from head to toe, pale and shaking in fear. Time sat still behind a layer of dusty thin glass; the clock’s pointer moved with no sound at its own pace, with little concern for the world outside. The man’s steps were careful, not daring to disturb the ghostly silence plaguing the hallways, almost tangible. Droplets of snow flowed down the glass panels, and particles of dust danced in the air when he opened the door of the master’s bedroom, relief apparent on his face. His darling wife sat on the blood-stained bed, trusted maids and guards watching the scene with wide eyes. In her eyes, disgust could be found. Gently, he retrieved the cold bundle from her arms, a finger touching a rosy cheek. "Oh, dearest,“ he whispered, blue eyes glued to striking green ones, ”look at the mess you’ve made.“
Theodora Beatrice Wilkes shed no tears during that cold January night. No cries or whimpers left the newborn’s mouth, causing the assigned maids and nurses to watch the baby with bated breath. Theodora, in turn, remained motionless, taking in her new surroundings. The heavy layer of silence was shattered only when morning came; a piercing cry woke staff and residents alike, all rushing to the nursery. "What a strange child,” some dared whisper, cowering and scattering when lady Beatrix Wilkes entered the room, accompanied by her nurse. The child’s cries subside when her mother picked her up, but there was no much of warmth in lady Beatrix’s eyes when she gazed at her daughter.
”‘Tis just the Wilkes way, poppet,“ her mother clicked her tongue one evening when she saw tears being to well up in Theodora’s eyes, her hand holding her daughter’s chin, nails piercing the skin. “You are a Wilkes, Theodora. Behave like one.”
Beatrix, however, had never been a Wilkes — in marriage only, and it was all that mattered in the end, she thought — and blood runs deep, in the Wilkes family. Thicker than melted gold, as the saying goes. Lady Beatrix had played her cards just right, a master at manipulation the woman was, but it was never enough. She might have led Theodore into many decisions he would have not taken had she not been there, many believing she would the true leader of the family by pulling the strings so obviously wrapped around her husband like barbed wire, but it wasn’t sufficient. The daughter meant to be a son was cursed with Wilkes blood, rotten to its very core. She tried to shape the girl to her liking, into a version of what she thought would be best for the family, but the girl had too much of her grandfather in her, proud as her cheekbones and strong as the danger swirling in the green of her eyes. As days turned into years, it had been apparent who would take over once Alexander allowed Death to fetch him from his empire. A child then, and the weight of the world had been shoved onto her shoulders, much to her mother’s despair. Not worried about the child, no. But the woman grieved for everything she would not get to be.
Theodora Beatrice — Beau to the numerous cousins and the masses, as a shortening for the mouthful of a name her mother insisted she used in wholly, taking immense joy in the way the woman would flinch whenever the nickname was spoken — had not been a girl of many friends. How could one be, when one is prone to violence and arrogance? No. Boarding school and later homeschooling was filled with courtyard fights but perfect scores, perfect enough for professors and tutors alike to ignore the blood under Theodora’s nails, the way her smiles showed too many sharp teeth. Loneliness had never been much of a worry for Theodora — not with her cousins and other preoccupations filling her brain. It had never bothered her, the lack of meaningful connections, but one could not trust those outside family, her grandfather had always told her when he would allow her to sit on his chair, and she would repeat it like a mantra when solitude threatened to become a problem.
It never reared its ugly head, however, for Theodora always found ways to entertain herself when boredom would hit. Drink, smoke, hook up with women who knew no better, many choices were taken that her dear mother did not approve, but her father? Oh, the man felt proud of her. Theodora was much like Theodore were when he was her age, and despite the betrayal of knowing his own daughter had shortened his chances of taking his father place, he knew she would fare much better than him or his siblings. Her personality left much to be desired by the public outside of the family, but to the Wilkes? Oh, Theodora fit in perfectly.
She commanded the room when needed, disappeared in the background when she wished, knew how to pull and push with force enough to destroy, and on top of it all, she was her mother’s daughter, and by heavens, how Theodora knew to manipulate and play the game. She was far from perfect, even by the Wilkes standards, but to be the leader? Oh. Theodore knew none of them could’ve done it better. The lack of empathy, the heavy fists, and demanding voice, it was all there. And loyalty? — Theodora would never betray her family, of that they were certain, just as one is certain the sun will rise and water will leave you wet. Theodora would rather die than throw one of hers under the bus — a fact that was proven when the girl was taken by a rival family and was returned with too many wounds and broken bones, but a fire in her eyes that refused to go out.
So when Alexander Wilkes perished, weak and fragile and old in his deathbed, leaving behind a trail of sins —deeply ingrained in the walls of his luxurious villa, in his office and company — he left behind the young and bewildered Theodora Beatrice Wilkes, no one hesitated when setting her down onto his chair and placing the crown upon her head. Too young now, perhaps, but we can wait, aunt and uncles said, when the girl was packed off to college and extra classes.
The Wilkes heir, Beau Wilkes — as she was known to the public, Theodora saved for family only and the very rare souls she dared to care about — was barely ever seen publicly. Everyone knew of her existence, of course, but unlike her parents, who were fond of throwing lavish parties and grand charity events, Theodora kept to the shadows, her face in no magazine or newspapers. She preferred it this way, this fake anonymity she had created in her refusal to take pictures, for it allowed her moments of peace in between the turmoil she often created. It allowed her to slip in and out when necessary, to check new business partners under the guise of an assistant, and much more. It allowed her to be a ghost, forever haunting the Berk-Morgan family. A war was unacceptable, she had been advised, no matter how much her fingers twitched to give the command and end the other family, but her somewhat secrecy allowed Theodora to tease and taunt the other family when she fully took over after college, enough to give her any sort of enjoyment.
Four decades had passed since that chilly November night, and since Theodora Beatrice first graced this world. For twenty years she has been leading the Wilkes family, carving her name in history and in the hearts of those forever living in fear. Loyal to only her family, Theodorais a woman who knows what has to be done and is not afraid of doing it. She has murdered for more than she can count, has dipped her fingers into trading and races and any sort of business one could imagine, had played the game in her favor more times anyone bothered to keep tabs. She has slipped, has cared deeply for people she had to put down in the name of the family, and has had very little time for regrets in her forty-five years of life. Since that fateful day her grandfather died, Theodora has been setting this world on fire with no second thoughts. The woman is tactless, arrogant, prone to teasing, and manipulating poor souls just for the fun of it, and she is not an easy person to deal with. She has spent the past years across the pond, commanding her empire from far away. — A partial lie, for Theodora has been coming and going as she wishes, spending weeks on her flat in London, and weeks in Crystal City without people knowing of her arrival. So when the head of the Wilkes family threw a public ball to announce her return, timed just right and giving a heartfelt speech,it had been a message, one she hopes has been clear enough; I’m back. Lock your doors and prepare your weapons.
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Nothing Wrong - Gordan Merkel
Characters: Merkel x busty fem reader
Warning: 18+ sex/BDSM/rope bondage/body+breast worship
Note: This piece was commissioned through my Ko-Fi by one of my most treasured beauties <3 Please visit my page if you're interested in commissioning a fic of your own! Patreon subs got early access to this fic (and much more).
I know I haven’t been posting a whole lot recently, and I feel bad about it. Life has been a real motherfucker lately! I have had little time to sit down and write recreationally and when I get the chance, my attention is elsewhere. I’m hoping things settle down soon, but who knows! Thanks for supporting, reading and existing here with me. I love you!
The weight of a secret knows no bounds...
He came out of nowhere on a crisp Autumn afternoon outside of the convention centre and noted her black button-down shirt. She had left the top three buttons alone, as trying to fasten them would cause rather uncomfortable stretching across her chest. It was better this way. There was nothing wrong with a little eye candy to entice customers, she thought. Nothing wrong with that at all.
He spoke to her under the guise of wanting to know what booth she belonged to since she looked like she was on a short break as a worker and not a visitor. He lit a black cigarette and asked her more questions, all of which he already knew the answers to.
"Do you have a business card?" He asked.
She tapped her pockets and realized that she had left her business cards on the table inside the convention.
"Shit. No. I don't have them on me," she regretted.
"Here. Please," he dipped into an inner pocket and produced a card with a double Carrick knot emblazoned in silver on a pure black field. Gordan Merkel. Then there was an e-mail address.
The man with the striped jacket and fitted black pants tipped some ash from his cigarette and flashed a smile sinful enough to tempt a demon. The sides of his head were shaved down and he had the look of a man that spent a lot of late hours awake.
"I'd give you my card, but I left them all inside," you told him.
"Don't worry. Just send me an e-mail. Just as good as a card."
"Sure. Good to meet you, Gordan."
"Merkel."
The man had eyes like hypnotic stones, high crests for cheekbones that angled down to a pair of cherub's lips.
And they fit together perfectly. They had sex that first night and the noises she made when he had her coming sounded like the call of heaven to him. He laid beside her, spent, watching her breasts rise and fall steadily with her breathing and decided that she had something inside of her that needed to be unleashed.
She was different. She didn't ask things of him. She was just content to be beside him and that was what he needed.
Days turned into weeks and he knew that he liked her in a way that he hadn't liked anybody in a long time. He wanted to keep it that way which meant a lot of ambiguity. At first, she never questioned him. When he said he had to leave after an afternoon of fucking on the stairs she bid him farewell and told him to come back soon.
No matter what, he came back. And she grew to love the days he would show up again at her door with some manner of material flattery; a bouquet, a new scarf, an antique silver bracelet, his favourite sweets from his childhood. Anything to get her to smile before he ravaged her in whatever room she would allow.
Weeks bled into months and she realized how long it had been one day when Merkel was in the shower. When he came out ready to leave, she looked up at him from the sofa and batted her eyes. "Do you really have to leave so soon?"
His neutral expression melted into an apologetic pout. Merkel reached out and touched her cheek. "I promise I'll be back, darling."
"Where do you go all the time?"
"To work, of course."
"I still don't quite understand what it is that you do," she stated.
He leaned down, kissed her with both hands clutching her head and pulled back an inch to nuzzle his nose against hers. "I'll tell you all about it some other time. Right now, I must go."
"Okay."
It happened a few more times until she couldn't take it anymore. He would never get to the bottom of his job or his life or even what he liked to do in his spare time. She thought she was what he did in his spare time. Their time together was the only unstructured thing about him.
She drew the most natural conclusions; He was cheating on her, he had a family somewhere and she was his distraction or he wasn't who she thought he was. Merkel was bad at giving answers and great at concealing information that might lead her to find out what he always disappeared for.
There were already too many secrets and if he could be sneaky, she decided, so could she. Which led her downtown on a covert mission to find out where the hell Merkel went at 8 PM on a Saturday. When she saw the name of the establishment he entered, her heart sank. It wasn't exactly what she had been expecting, but it was close enough and perhaps worse than anything she had envisioned.
She knew the place but never entered, simply waited outside for hours until Merkel showed his face. When the familiar scent of clove cigarettes wafted by, she perked and found him leaned up against the painted black brick wall of the establishment she had followed him to.
"Now you know."
"Yeah. I guess, now I know."
"But you don't know the whole story," Merkel said with a hint of regret steering his words.
"Do I need the whole story?"
He approached her and quirked a useless smile. "Yes. You do."
The whole unadulterated story made her angrier before it provided any kind of relief. He was a teacher of sorts; a master. She gawped at him like her jaw was too heavy to hold up.
"The longer a secret like that is left to fester, the worse it gets. Why didn't you just tell me?"
"I didn't want to scare you away."
"What else are you hiding?"
Merkel lifted his hands, the cigarette between his index and middle finger an afterthought. "Nothing."
"I can't believe you."
"I'm sorry."
"So, you're a... BDSM master. Okay. Nothing wrong with that."
"Nothing wrong? Tell that to every other failed relationship."
"Maybe you should have been honest with them." Her tone carried hotly, but she didn't seem to want to get away from him. Not yet.
"Nothing good ever came from being honest."
"Wish you would have just told me," she grumbled as if he weren’t there.
"I wish I did, too."
They were quiet while Merkel smoked the last inch of his cigarette and flicked it off the sidewalk onto the frosty street. He turned to her, eyes begging for a conclusion.
"I want to try it." She wasn't aware of her admission until it made his eyebrows shoot half-way up his forehead.
"Really? You do? I didn't think you would be into that."
She stood up and began walking away slowly but stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. "Well, you never asked... Master."
His sleep-deprived eyes darkened under the lamplight. "Very well, pet."
~*~
He laid down the rules firmly as a true professional would. There was nothing erotic about his long-winded explanation of her obligation to tell him if she started to experience discomfort, claustrophobia or numbness. He drilled her with questions until he conceded that she was an open territory for him to explore.
"You will call me master. I will consider any other address inappropriate and it will result in immediate punishment."
Merkel had walked in wearing a fur coat and carried with him a doctor's bag, presumably full of items that needed no explanation. He dropped the leather bag on the floor and smiled before kneeling to pop open the tarnished frame clasp. He laid out a large coil of coloured rope and returned to her attention as she stood robed in the middle of their chosen play space — the comfort of her bedroom.
"I will only start with the small stuff tonight. Just harnessing your chest and restraining your arms, if you're comfortable with that. You will have full use of your legs. But those tits are mine."
He knew his materials and unwound a fair length of red synthetic fibre rope. He blinked up at her and quirked the left corner of his mouth. "Since you're such a new, sweet, little baby... You get the nice soft rope. Wouldn't want your precious skin to suffer too much."
She nodded her head, unprepared to call him by his chosen title just yet. But that's exactly what he was, and she watched him with her mouth closed while he circled her.
"Whenever you want to start, you can take off your robe."
The confidence she had built up began to shake beneath his stare. The rope in his hands was ready to be laid over her skin. Breathing in deeply, she moved to open her robe and shrug it off her shoulders. He kicked it far enough away to not obscure the surrounding pathway.
"I've dreamed of what those tits would look like tied up for me. So, so many times."
His opening line was enough to have her chewing her lip. Now that he mentioned it, flashes of his hands groping her breasts whizzed by her mind's eye. He always liked to touch and squeeze, paying extra special attention to her sensitive nipples. The recollections made her skin buzz to life.
The soft running of the rope over his hands hissed behind her. She didn't risk looking back at him but closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, fully entrusting him to guide her through this new, impelling experience.
"Lift your arms and bend them in at the elbows, touching your collarbone."
She obeyed him and allowed herself to look down when his hands came up under her arms to lay a flat run of rope over the tops of her breasts. It came around tightly to the back where he looped it and pulled taut.
"Perfect. Stay just like that for me."
His breath was close to her ear as he coiled another run beneath her chest this time, creating a lovingly snug frame. She spilled forth from the binding already, but he had plenty more to do.
"Beautiful. Such exquisite flesh. I would love to see you in jute."
Again, no sound from her. Merkel knotted the rope behind her and his hands came under her arms again. Slender fingers ran along the length of softened chord and the sensation mimicked down her spine.
"Oh, yes. Your body is so responsive to me. Isn't it?"
She nodded her head much to his displeasure. He stopped and pulled the rope tighter. A few breaths permitted to come and go before he leaned over her shoulder, intaking her scent as a wolf might sniff his prey before lunging.
"It's yes, master. You don't want this to end in punishment so soon, do you?"
"No, master," she chirped nervously.
"Good little pet."
When he came around and passed the rope over her shoulder to dip down between her breasts, he took a full, loose-lipped look at how the luscious flesh protruded from the binding. Endearingly pink and bristling from sensation, he bit back the urge to give one of her perked nipples a pinch. That could wait until she was fully restrained.
Her arms were clasped with the same amount of pressure as her chest had been. Fully knotted and unable to do anything but watch her master admiring his work, she bit her lip again and helped him to snap out of his self-evaluative trance.
"How are you feeling, little one?"
"Good, master."
"No discomfort anywhere?"
She smiled. "None whatsoever... Master."
He nodded and bounced his shoulders out of the fur coat, revealing the straps of a purposefully distressed tank top.
"On your knees," he pointed at the floor.
She carefully lowered onto the ground, never breaking eye contact on the way down.
"Oh-so-obedient, my little pet. Fuck, I'm going to have to take it rather slow with you and savour our first playtime because you look magnificent. Those lovely tits... Oh, my." He acted as though he had never seen her before and that bore a grain of truth.
"I will use you for my pleasure tonight, understand?"
She nodded but remembered what he said last time about not using her words. "Yes, master."
"My pleasure might entail many things. It is your responsibility as my pet to attend to my needs with fervour and dedication. You know what to do if your body tells you enough."
"Yes, master."
"Good, pet. Now... Let's see that tongue."
His belt came undone as she opened her mouth. A long hand disappeared beneath the fabric and came back out, clutching a hardening cock.
"I know how much you love to please me, so let me give you a treat. Open wide," he instructed, coat bunching down into the creases of his arms as he stepped forward. The moment the tip contacted her warm tongue, his eyes rolled, and eyelids flickered.
"Gorgeous pet. Yes, you love the taste of your master's cock."
Merkel used her in all the ways he promised he would until they were both sweating on the bed, him with his legs spread wide over the mattress and her being pulled down by the knots running down her back and arms. Inflamed red skin bounced and slapped, static imprints peeked out from beneath bindings, the breathless din of submission pushing them closer and closer to the edge.
Before it was too late, he threw her down on her side while he got up to administer a shot of cum over her face. Obscene as it was, he cradled her gently and stroked her cheek as he let drip his seed over her damp, puffy skin.
"Beautiful. So lovely. Yes, oh, you look beautiful with Master's cum all over your pretty cheeks."
After he finished tapping her cheeks and making a mess, he helped her to stand and began untying her wrists first. She had been wound tight, but not tight enough for her to give up. She had been the perfect pet, as he lovingly told her over and over while unwinding her from all the intricate passes of rope. Every inch that slackened helped her to relax and regulate her breathing until she was free to move her arms.
"Breathe with me now, darling. You did so fantastically. So very well. I've never been prouder."
"Thank you for trusting me," she said.
"There's nothing wrong with admitting you were wrong. And I was wrong. We should have done this a long time ago."
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Snowed in
This one is for @seedsplease, you asked me for soft nsfw in front of the fire place at the Ranch. I hope you like how this turned up, because I don’t know where all the angst came from XD. Thank you! ________________________________________ Pairing: John Seed x Reader, John Seed x Deputy Raiting: NSFW You dragged the dead weight of the rifle slumping down your body, the muzzle carving a zigzag pattern on the fresh mud, and the strap digging a painful crease on the flesh of your shoulder. Maybe leaving everyone behind at Fall’s End wouldn’t be counted among your greatest decisions yet still you got what you wanted.
Striding under the heavy rain, your legs grumbled for the harsh treatment while the last rays of the winterly pale sun riddled through the foliage like through a sieve. The chill air seeped through your jacket, gnawing at your very bones, the freezing sensation magnified by your soaked clothes. If you could only find a fucking truck, before the drowsiness took over your brain, and even the voice in your head started to slur your panic.
The inclined path followed for a few yards carpeted by interspersed turfs. You lost your footing stepping into a divot, cursing between clicking teeth, until you spotted a wooden building greeting you in the distance. “Well, fuck me.” With no map and no GPS, you managed to land your ass at the front of Seed Ranch, the first place you wanted go, yet the last place it was good for you.
You hid a growl making your stealthy way around as much as your pained ankle allowed it, noticing that due to the unbearable cold all the guards had been removed. You dashed among crates and barrels while above you the now purple sky unleashed a cleansing fury, every drop of water drubbing in staccato over you, like under the direction of an overexcited conductor.
Your lungs fought to give you the air you needed, and well, perhaps it was time to actually rest for a bit. The flooded surface splashed under your boots as you sought an almost dry spot, and crouched in a secluded corner. Around you the rain turned into soft snow, delicate flakes carried by the wind, and you glanced at your nails. They were blue. It wasn’t that bad, you thought, as you forced your fingers to grip the flesh of your own arms and your teeth chattered uncontrollably, biting the tip of your tongue. The coppery flavor of your blood swamped in your mouth but the pain was almost nonexistent. The edges of your sight blurred into jagged black, before you catched faint, muffled footsteps approaching you. If you could only move your hand.
“My dear Deputy, what do I owe this honour?” John Seed ducked next to you before reaching a hand to touch your almost comatose body. “Shit, deputy, you’re freezing!” His voice tapped in your ear, the mocking tone completely gone and replaced by strained anguish as he got rid of his coat, putting it over you in a swift movement.
He lifted you from the ground, cradling you against his chest, protective hands grasping you hard. “It’s ok, my dear, everything is going to be alright,” he reassured you whispering into your ear, and the only thing you could do was shudder like a newborn pigeon.
Now he was almost running into the house, but his words still reached your words under a steady rhythm. “Hey, darling, hey!” he muttered as your conscience balanced at the edge of oblivion, “focus on my voice, don’t fall asleep Deputy, don’t!”
You tried, even if half your mind wanted to, just because it was him, and you’d go to great lengths to sour his life, but the desperation running on every word was a whiplash in your face. It must’ve been important.
“How do you get yourself in this kind of–” he trailed off, clutching you even tighter against him and you leaned into him. “It’s alright, sh, you’re safe now,” he said with a sense of finality.
You crossed the threshold of the house once you saw as an enemy fort, securely in his arms, and it irked you how good it felt. His spicy mint scent was one of the few things you were still able to recognize and it grounded you, every little wisp traveling to your haggard brain, reminding you who you were, who he was, even if you were still too weak to respond.
He placed you on the bearskin rug in front of the big fire at the center of the living room, tossing carelessly his soaked coat aside. Your entire body shuddered as he peeled the layers of sodden cloth out of your body.
“Listen to me, deputy, I’m not going to harm you,” he said taking off your boots and pulling down your jeans, “but you’ll die if I don’t get these off you, you hear me?”
You locked eyes with him, and it striked you the deep concern etched in his brow, blue eyes surveying your face almost with pain. You lied naked on the rug in no time and he dashed off your side just to comeback ten seconds later carrying two magnificent wool blankets he placed over you. He was as soaked as you, and you lifted a dainty finger to point at him.
“John,” you finally said with a gruesome effort, “your clothes– wet–cold.”
He chuckled, grasping your hand. “My dear, you’re at the verge of dying yet you still worry about me, even though I haven’t treated you in the most gracious way.”
His hands made short work of his vest, and his shirt, and kneeled as he was next to you, you reached your fingers to trace the skein of tattoos and scars. The numbing cold was dissipating slowly, but now all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him, to live again the fleeting moment when you were able to hear his heartbeat.
“Come,” you said, blinking slowly, “please, I’m cold.”
He looked at you as if he couldn’t believe your words, and quickly shuck off his trousers, sliding next to you under the blankets. He was warmer than you and between the strong fire at your back and the maddening heat in front of you, you finally felt a bit more alive.
You closed your arms around his body, pressing every inch of you to every inch of him, and he rubbed your arms and back, trying to diminish the shivers and goosebumps that flared on your skin. You tilted your head up, catching the blush on his cheeks, as your feet bumped against his shins and your muscles relaxed.
“Are you feeling better?,” he asked you with a wavering voice, and it only took you a roll of your hips to know why.
“Yes,” you said with the faintest of whispers, “but– I don’t– why are you doing this?”
He heaved a hard sigh, that mingled with yours, his arm possessively tugged around your waist. “I– don’t know, I don’t know really, maybe you’re waiting for this groundbreaking reason, but the truth is I don’t know.” He shifted in your arms, holding you even tighter. “Maybe is a sin, and it clouds my mind, but when I saw you there, dying out of cold, I told myself I couldn’t let that happen.”
“Because of Joseph?” you offered.
“No, no, no,” he said placing his chin on the crown of your head, “no, little bird, because of me. What if I told you, you changed something,” he grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, “in here? You unburdened me, but I know I’m a sinner, and you’d never say–”
“Yes.” You gave your hips another roll and trapped his hard cock between your legs, his chest heaving with hitching breaths.
“Are- are you sure?” he gruffed, blue eyes delving deep into yours.
You kissed him as a whole answer, his tongue warring for dominance and you let him, your hips rocking with his rock hard cock rubbing between your folds. His mouth trailed down your neck, teeth nipping at your skin hard enough to bruise. He flipped you on your back and pinned down your wrists to the rug, your thighs clasping at his hard on.
“You really have no idea what you do to me, don’t you, sweetheart?” He whispered with a sliver of something wicked in his voice, and god in heaven, a gush of liquid trickled down the apex of your thighs.
A moaned escaped you, as he palmed one breast, diving down to catch your nipple in his mouth, his other hand stealing down your abdomen, his fingers trickling at your entrance and curling over your clit. “A little excited are we not?”
You wanted to respond, but your words were dulled by your whimpers, his voice soaking into your skin. He thrust forward, the friction of his dick against your clit, dragging small hums of pleasure out of your throat.
“Please, John,” you begged, your fingernails raking as he moved, pressing against you in all the right ways.
Your legs fell open, circling around his waist and now it was his time to gasp and groan as you closed your hand around his dick, to align him to your entrance just so. He devoured your lips as he slid slowly inside you, giving you time to adjust to every inch intruding in you. And you were certainly thankful for it, because he was by far the biggest you’d ever take. Your rough exhalations fanned against his neck and a growl tore from his throat unbidden the second he was fully inside you.
“My dear, you feel like heaven,” he grunted against your lips, now rocking his hips and you realized this was going to be a very short trip to the end line. Every ridge and vein in his cock stroked in all the right angles, his tip hitting against your sweet spot making you writhe and cry out with every thrust of his hips.
You were bracketed between his arms, his body arching against yours, and your legs closed tighter around him. You wanted him closer, wanted to trip over the line of your orgasm, grazing at it with every pump, with every assault of his cock to your cunt.
“Don’t fight it,” he mumbled, and it didn’t surprised you when your walls clenched around him, your back arching as the spark of white flared up behind your eyelids.
He kneeled between your thighs, hoisting your hips up and slammed every inch of that delicious dick inside you. “God, you feel good, so wet, so tight,” he breathed to the empty living room, “and just for me, my Deputy, my little bird.”
With a feral growl he came inside you, his body shaking apart until he finally collapsed on top of you.
He propped on one elbow, kissing every free spot in your face, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I didn’t save you for you to be bound to me by an obligation,” he said with a neutral tone but a possessive hand curled around you, fastening you to him, and you suspected that pushing him away would swiftly bring back the Inquisitor from deep within him. “You can leave if you want.”
It was really lucky that what you felt, was solid enough to keep yourself steady under those hypnotic blue eyes. “I want to stay, John, because of you, not because I’m bound to,” you said, reveling in the sensation of his come now dripping down your thighs. “I’m yours.”
He smiled giving you a sloppy kiss, all fervor and yearning, as through the window the flakes eddied down in the freezing wind.
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Where Your Treasure Lies
“And I saw that all toil and all achievement spring from one person’s envy of another. This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.” Ecclesiastes 4:4
Envy.
Insecurity.
Comparison.
Competitiveness.
Qualities often associated with women. Characteristics we get demonized and shamed for when in actuality, they are spiritual cries going unheard.
I have noticed a dangerous thinking pattern I have recently adopted.
Maybe you have too. It probably goes something like this—
“No one cares about you, or what you think.”
“No one wants to be your friend, you’re too weird. No one likes you.”
“You have nothing to offer.”
“You will never amount to anything.”
“You’re stupid.”
“You’re ugly.”
“You are too damaged and too dirty to be loved.”
When we don’t understand our value and how the Father sees us, we so easily believe the lies of Satan.
But in order to identify lies, one must know the truth.
How your Father sees you.
She is more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her. Long life is in her right hand; in her left hand are riches and honor. Her ways are pleasant ways, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to those who take hold of her; those who hold her fast will be blessed. Proverbs 3:15-18
You are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you. Song of Songs 4:7
For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. Psalm 139:13-14
You will be a crown of splendor in the LORD’s hand, a royal diadem in the hand of your God. Isaiah 62:3
She is worth far more than rubies. Prov. 31:10
See, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands. Isaiah 49:16
I could go on and on.
You were not created to covet. You were not created to scroll through a photoshopped highlight reel of your friends’ and celebrities’ lives and compare yourself to their outward appearance or lifestyle.
Can I tell you a secret?
It’s never going to be enough.
The perfect boyfriend, a #squadgoals group of friends that all look like models, money, the best clothes, thousands of followers, popularity…
Have you ever noticed that once you’ve attained something you’ve worked so hard to get, it’s on to the next thing? We enjoy that “thing” for a few days or months even, and then find something else wrong with our lives, and fixate on that.
It’s no wonder social media harms our mental health.
If these fleeting, material things are our measuring stick, there will always be someone with more. This leaves a constant and persistent hole in our hearts.
Placing your identity in Christ is the only thing that can satisfy that void. Once we allow His love to flood our hearts and bind up the broken places, He begins to whisper His truth into our Spirit—that you are enough simply because you are His child. That you are beloved, chosen, beautiful, and special.
I am convinced that all of the futile things we get so caught up with in today’s culture just feed our carnality.
Carnality occurs whenever we take our eyes off of the eternal. When we get caught up in the temporal things in life and indulge in those desires.
These things add no weight and no depth. They offer no eternal value, because your looks will fade. You will leave all your money and possessions on earth, and all of our achievements will be long forgotten in time.
Feeding carnality looks different for many people. It is not always conventional “sin”. It could be going out with friends, a job, shopping, the #foodie lifestyle, going to parties, or a significant other.
When our lives start revolving around these things, it gets dangerous. Our generation tells us we’re living our best lives, when in reality—these things are robbing us.
Spending time with friends and having fun, for example, is not sinful, bad, or wrong. It’s about the condition of our hearts and if we are putting these things above spending time with Jesus or our spiritual growth.
Where you heart lies there your treasure will be. Matthew 6:21
If your heart is resting in the Lord, you are already building up eternal treasures in heaven that you will benefit from for eternity. Scripture mentions inheritances, great positions, and crowns for those in heaven who have served and done the will of the Father on earth.
The heart of this is not to scold you away from enjoying the wonderful, beautiful things God has placed on this earth for us to enjoy.
It’s a heart check. To make sure our hearts are aligned with His. When we have the correct perspective, it makes every good thing that much more enjoyable.
When our hearts are chasing after His, we receive a peace that surpasses all understanding. It goes beyond the difficult circumstance we are going through and He reminds us that our troubles and worries so finite, and that our eternity promises so much more.
And in Christ you have been brought to fullness. Colossians 2:10
Songs
Isn’t He - The Belonging Co
Extravagant - Steffany Gretzinger
Stay Here - The Belonging Co
Prayer
Jesus, thank you for your extravagant love. Thank you for laying everything down for my heart. I repent for holding back bits and pieces of mine, when You should have been on the throne of my heart all along. I ask that you would align my heart, soul, mind, body, and spirit to You right now in the name of Jesus. I thank you because Your word says that I can cast my burdens, troubles, and anxieties on to You, because You care for me. I release fear of the unknown and things I cannot control and grab hold of Your peace that transcends all understanding, in the name of Jesus. Teach me how to see myself and others the way You do. I repent for placing my identity in anything or anyone that is not You and ask you to fill any voids and empty places in my heart. In Jesus name, amen.
#christian#blogger#faith#worship#jesus#love#hope#devo#devotional#holy#holy spirit#spirit#believe#life#fullness#god#peace#joy#verse#bible#study#scripture
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unholy [part two to angel on fire]
summary: part two to angel on fire || nsfw || demon!bucky x angel!reader ||
warnings: fingering, use of powers, biting, general sin tbh
notes: alternatively titled ‘how heaven would burn and how hell would freeze’
this is for my lovely babydoll’s (@sanjariti) prompt game/challenge!! I had the song Unholy by Hey Violet. Now, I didn’t use all the lyrics, but I did use some of them. I hope that’s okay, Lina.
MASTERLIST || PART ONE
I'm having thoughts all the time, you and I, and they won't go away But I kinda like what it's like in my mind and I don't wanna be saved
The King of Hell.
He was the goddamn King of Hell, and here you were, staring at your ceiling, mind swimming with the memories of your time together. It’d been a few weeks since that debauched encounter, since you’d seen him last, but your skin still burned.
You weren’t prepared for how pleasurable that pain could feel, the sting of his sinful hands sliding over your divine, untouched flesh.
It was wrong, so fucking wrong, for you to think of him like this, to yearn for his moans in your ear and his hips rolling into yours.
But, as you remembered his filthy smile, eyes black pools of wickedness as he brought you to an ecstasy you’d never felt in your entire life, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about the heinous acts you committed.
Oh how Heaven would burn when it found that one of their angels was captured by the Devil himself.
Heat simmered up your spine as you sighed, electricity buzzing in your veins. You craved his touch, needed to feel his body melding with yours once more. You murmur his name quietly, eyes closing as you imagined him there, under the blankets beside you.
The bed dips, and your eyes fly open, seeing the object of your affections towering above you, a smirk on his unfairly beautiful face. The pale blue he fronts to the humans overtakes his usual black. If you didn’t know any better, he could pass off as an angel.
“Hello, darlin’.”
“What are you doing here?” you ask, startled.
“You know what they say, ‘speak of the Devil and he shall appear.’“ James taps your mouth with one finger, laughing quietly when you nip at it. “But I was on my way to see you, anyway.”
“Where have you been?” he takes note of your sad tone, eyes softening as he looks at you. You missed him, that much was evident. And as much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, he missed you, too.
Oh how Hell would freeze when it found out its King sought salvation in an angel’s wings.
Say your name while our tongues are tied Getting shivers all down my spine
“I’ve been handling things. My domain has been...chaotic lately.” James leans down, presses a gentle kiss to your lips. His knuckles run along the underside of your jaw, small smile on his lips. “Don’t worry, angel, I haven’t forgotten about you.”
The next kiss he graces you with is heated as he pries your lips apart with his tongue, licking into your mouth with slowly unraveling passion. You moan softly, one hand curling into the collar of his shirt as the other one slides through his hair. You break away with a slick slide of your lips, sliding a hand into his hair. “James,” you whisper quietly. He merely hums, a question lilting in his voice. “I want you.”
“I’m right here, angel.” he teases. James tugs at the blanket covering your body and you let him, blushing when he whistles lowly. You’re not wearing any pants, just a loose tanktop, the fabric barely brushing your waist. “White lace? You’re killin’ me here.”
James situates himself between your thighs, elbows on either side of your head. He tucks his hair behind his ears, biting down on his bottom lip. You shiver as the weight of him settles against you, nuzzling your nose against his.
Sly fingers make their way underneath your tanktop, brushing the underside of your bare breasts with a muted groan. “No bra, either? Are you trying to be this irresistible or is it just effortless for you, angel?”
“I’m not doing anything.” you giggle. He slides your tanktop over your head, mouth immediately closing around a nipple. James sucks hard, nibbling at the peaked bud as your back arches from the bed, whimpering.
Don't say it's unholy If I let you come hold me I know it's wrong that I want to be here in your arms
“I wonder what the rest of your people would say if they saw you like this, underneath me, wanton and moaning like a cheap whore.” James muses. He sucks a mark into your collarbone, smirking. “Would they think you unholy? Would they make you fall? Take away those wings of yours?”
“I know it’s wrong to want you.” you whimper when he bites down hard on the swell of your breast, pulling at his hair just as harshly. “But I can’t help it.”
“You’re not the only one, angel.”
James wraps his hands around the sides of your panties, ripping them clean off your body. Once you’re bared for his eyes to feast on, he’s stroking at your wetness, groaning as his fingers make a smooth glide from your entrance to your clit. “You’re so wet for me already.”
“Touch me, please.” your bottom lip wobbles when he laughs, shaking his head in amusement.
“Baby, I am touching you.” James points out. “What more do you want?”
“You know I what I want.” you’re panting, hips tilting to rub harder against his hand. He pulls his hand away just as you get it to bump against your clit, making you cry out.
“No, I don’t.” his voice is low in your ear as he speaks. “Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers? Do you want me to make you come on my tongue? Do you want me to fuck you so hard that they hear you screaming in Heaven?”
Oh, now we're face to face Oh, and my heart is racing Oh, I can taste temptation
“Please, James.”
He shoves two fingers inside you, licking into your open mouth as you cry out, eyes screwing shut as he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit. He’s not gentle with it, crooking his fingers roughly as your g-spot, spreading the digits as far apart as they can go. “Open your eyes, angel. Look at me.”
James is hovering above you with a toothy grin, loving the way you’re shaking under him. Your faces are but a few inches apart, the two of you close enough to share breaths. “That’s it, gorgeous.” he whispers. “Let me see you fall apart.”
His free hand slides down your side, leaving scorching trails that teeter on the line between pleasure and pain. The feeling is enough to have you shaking, reeling in the burn of his tainted skin touching yours. He clutches at your hip, coaxing you to rock against his fingers. “C’mon, baby. Come for me. Come for your King.”
His voice drips like honey, thick and indulgent. It doesn’t take much more before your thighs are closing around his wrist, hips bucking hard as you clutch at the sheets. “So goddamn gorgeous, angel.” he praises softly. “Who knew that angels could be this tempting? This sexy?”
“Fuck me.” you beg. The hand on your hip lets go to unbutton his pants, and when you look down, you can see a perfect imprint of it, stained crimson against your flesh. His gaze follows yours and he frowns, bending down to press gentle lips against the blemish.
“You ready for me?” he questions. He slides his pants and underwear far enough down his thighs to free his cock, sitting back on his heels as he pumps his hand back and forth. Pre-come flows out of the tip unceasingly, slipping over his fingers. You want to lick it off, want to taste the salt of him on your tongue, but, judging by the desperation in his eyes, you know he’s not going to let you. “C’mere, angel. Sit in my lap.”
He holds you steady with one hand as you straddle him, thighs spread wide to accommodate him between your legs. When you’re comfortable, he leans forward, bearing both of your weight as he positions you over his cock.
“Tell me if you need me to stop, angel.” he tells you. It’s the only warning you get before he’s sinking into you, moving your pliant body against his dick in slow, languid motions. You can only cling to him, hands grappling at his shoulders as he fucks you.
James’s forehead tips against yours, eyes fluttering from black to blue and back again. He exhales a quiet moan, cherry red lips parted. “You feel like fucking sin wrapped around me like this.”
Phantom fingers rub against your clit and you nearly scream, staring at the demon wide-eyed. He huffs out rough laugh. “You like that? You like me using my powers on you?”
“More.” you plead. Heat spreads across your body as the feeling tickles down your spine, ghosting over the cleft of your ass and around where the two of you are connected. Your mind feels hazy under his influence, absorbed in the pleasure consuming you.
“There we go, angel. Give yourself to me. Let me make you come.”
Your head is pulled back under his force and his teeth sink into your throat, biting down hard enough to draw blood as your body tremors around him. He fucks you through it as hard as he can, whimpers sounding against your skin as he hunts down his end.
James comes inside you with a low grunt, slowly lowering you to the mattress as he shivers with the aftershocks. With his head pillowed against your breasts, he slowly pulls out of you, slumping against your body with a sated sigh.
“Fuck,” he breathes out. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Hell of a way to go, isn’t it?”
TAGGING:
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@feelmyroarrrr@givemethatgold @justasunflower @simplyme8308 @persephone-is-here-omg@papi-chulo-bucky @thewinterswimmer @addictionmarvel @bucky-heaven-james@plumfondler @minervaem @caplanbuckybarnes @kindnesswins @waywardimpalawriter @duskshadowz @sexylibrarian1 @angryschnauzer@thecrownedrose @bootypoppinbarnes @ididntasktogetmadedidi @just-call-me-your-darling @asifblackmagic @h4ziel
@pineapplebooboo @supernaturaldean67 @4theluvofall @hollycornish@thinkwritexpress-official @nativesebby @lilasiannerd @dungoofedlife @beebossinner@charliexowrite @sebastian-stans-thighs @apollogirl13 @fandomlyawsome@stevnsbucks @bi-diana-prince @jobean12-blog @captainpoopweinersoldier @ivartrash
#sebastian x reader#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian x reader smut#sebastian stan x reader smut#sebastian stan smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky x reader smut#bucky barnes imagine#sebastian stan imagine#demon!Bucky#demon bucky barnes
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Stranger I’ve Known so Long
“Starscream? Starscream, can you hear me?” Estella’s voice cracked as she struggled to call to him through puffy, bloodied lips. The seeker gave no sign that he was cognizant.
He wasn’t dead. His spark signature registered in her muddled processor, faint though it may be. Her processor sizzled as she strained to gain response from his, her signal beams pinging off his hibernating systems to no avail.
She yanked and thrashed against her chains, twisting her wrists against the cuffs; if she could not connect with her creator through a comm. link, her only choice was to connect with him through the cable. It had been such a long time since the seeker had probed inside her head...The last time he had been so generous as to request it, she had adamantly refused. Never had she thought she’d be plugging herself into his head of her own volition.
Turning her wrist at an impossibly contorting angle, she pulled herself free of the chain. Estella felt her head swim as she rose too quickly, “Fuck, shit--!” She groaned, doubling over and vomiting. Heaving and retching, she sniffed and dabbed at her swollen eye, spitting out the last of the stomach acid and Monster energy drink concoction she’d splattered on the floor.
Staving off another wave of nausea, the tired, battered young woman knelt beside the seeker’s helm. Prying his torn chassis plates apart, she dug into his subspace for the appropriate chord and forced the connection...
______________________________________
Liar...Selfish...Monster...Disgrace...Traitor...
The whispers were incessant in their repetition. It was enough that this invasive virus eating away at his processor, deleting his memories, corrupting his programming, but to have such vicious reminders of his failures and mistakes...They were only words...Data projected by his vengeful creation...But how could he deny them? Starscream shuddered and cowered in the shadow of his own mind; it was no less than he deserved...Mayhap this was long overdue. His creation had surpassed and defeated him. He had earned his revenge.
An outside power source had forcibly connected; past the catalysts Erick had put in place. A source all too familiar to him...
::Estella?:: His spark pulsed forlornly, ::...Have you joined him, daughter? Are you here to take your revenge?::
She was silent for a moment, before her soft, clear voice answered, ::Is that what you believe?::
::I am not sure what I believe. These days, it seems I hardly know you. I begin to wonder if I ever did.::
There was ire and pain as she answered, ::You think I would murder you? Is that who you think I am truly am inside?::
Not the most tactful answer, he’d admit, ::That isn’t what I meant. I just...I did not know how angry you were...You never told me--::
::What are you trying to say? That this was my fault? It was my responsibility to tell you that what you were doing was bad for me? You were supposed to be looking out for my best interests, not your own.::
::I thought I was!:: He pleaded, ::I thought I was doing what was best for you! I never meant to hurt you, Stella--::
::No. But you closed your eyes to it all the same. .::
...Was that the truth? Had he truly thought so little of her, and cared only for his own feelings? So enveloped in his visions and self pity, he had not seen that he had done to his daughter what his own creator had done to him. In his pursuit of improving his own life, he had ruined hers. Guilt and despair closed around him. ::I can’t undo what I’ve done. I should have known better....and you have suffered for my willful ignorance. I am sorry, Estella...and I love you. I am sorry for everything. You deserve better than what I have given you. If you must hate for all time....I will understand.::
A calm settled over her...as though a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders, ::...I forgive you for everything you have ever done to me. I forgive you. Let’s begin again, can’t we?::
As though every sin had been absolved, and all the darkness cleared, Starscream felt lighter than he had in the longest time. Already, it felt like a new beginning. And yet, they were not yet there. They had yet to escape with their lives. ::...Erick must be dealt with first.::
Didn’t she know it. Doubt once again curled around her, ::He is just too strong. I tried to fight him, but I could not win. I do not know what to do, creator...::
Starscream felt like laughing, ::Well, surely you did not think you could beat him in a physical fight, darling. Good heavens, he’s far too large for you to combat without proper training. Not to worry, there are other ways to win battles.::
::But how? I cannot override his processors, his influence overwhelms mine. I can barely keep control of my own unit.::
The seeker chided disapprovingly, ::Have you learned nothing from me all this time? Don’t you know why I chose to create a body like yours in the first place? Why I chose a female form? You have the power to influence anyone you please. Beauty, charm and wit; these are how you fight to win.::
Estella shifted perplexedly, ::I’m not sure I follow...::
::...First step first. Don’t forget, Erick was designed much the same as you, in that when he is connected to another Cybertronian, he loses all autonomy. If you can connect to him with a manual cable, you can shut down his processors and take control of this ship yourself.::
Of course! She had not thought of that. It was a sound plan, but..., ::Erick will not let me so close to him to attach it. He does not trust me any longer.::
::You’ll have to pretend to make love to him::
She started and felt as though she might retch again, ::Oh, but I could not! Erick is my brother!::
::My dear, he is nothing of the kind. Fond as you may be of calling every creature that shared the lab with you your sibling, you are not related in any sense.::
::Well...then from whom did you acquire his bio-samples?::
::...That is a story for another day. You can do this, Estella. Pull him in to kiss him, and while he is distracted, you strike.::
She shrank, this unsavory trickery unnerving her, ::I cannot. I am bloodied and swollen and my eye has been shattered. I am not beautiful, and could not tempt him if I tried.::
::You can do it, Estella. You have more charms than you know, and even if you were broken and battered, you would still be more beautiful than any creature could hope to dream of...::
::...I will try.::
The course of action set, there was only the matter of his rapidly deteriorating processor. If Estella could only... ::...I must ask you one favor, my love. I cannot reverse this virus Erick has set loose in my system. If I am to save any part of myself...I must transfer into your processor. I promise, I will not attempt to override you, I swear. If you will only save my data into your storage space--::
::I came to save you, creator. I will trust you. With any luck, I will have the means to reverse everything he has unleashed... If I do not fail...::
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Songfic Blue Sweater *George Weasley X Reader*
Blue Sweater >>>> Poema
hmmmm...ahhh cinnamon, jackie clung to the sweater he left. she missed him so much, but she knew that he needed to get out of here. Him and his brother had big dreams and aspirations, and the means to watch it blow up.Jakie put the sweater on and looked in the mirrior, it felt so warm against her skin, but it looked like a dress on her. None the less it was the last thing she had left of her two best friends and the love of her life. That blue sweater with a bright yellow "G" on it.
It had been so long since she had heard his voice or see his face. And it's been murder here at hogwarts since they left. The little pink toad had made this place so dreary, and if she had to hear that hum one more time she would go crazy.Luckly there was only a two more weeks of this hell before shcool was out and she could see the twins at there shop, but it felt like 2oo years, and she couldn't stand it.
She watend so badly to write a letter in fact she had tried countless times but...
"Dear George,
i, jackie, your best friend of 9 years is and has been in love with you since we met"
...just didn't have much of a ring to it. she felt like it was something she really needed to tell him in person. but at the same time she was scared.Scared that he wouldn't feel the same, and she would feel more empty then the night they left. before she even she knew what was happening the tears rolled down her cheeks, and she cried herself to sleep cuddled up in that blue sweater.
The next two weeks were tormenting, not because of umbridge, cause for some reason she was gone that same night the golden trio left, but she was still contemplating weither or not to tell george, all the while never letting go of that sweater, she took it with her everwhere, she just couldn't bear to leave it.
Finally, school was out and she was on the train back to home, and back to george. She was hoping George would be at Kings Cross, cause after all ginny and ron were coming home too. but she was soon disappointed when they pulled into the station and Fred and George were no where to be seen.
Jackie met up with her parents, who were right next to the weasleys, they have been family friends since they moved right next door to eachother.
"OH Jackie" screamed Mrs. Weasley as she pulled me into a giant hug.
"hello mrs. weasley" jackie said as she couldn't hide the smile on her face, she always felt like part of the family when it came to the weasley's. They were like that if everyone she supposed.
"Well look at you, you've grown so much since the last time i saw you"
"Mrs. Weasley it's only been a few monthes"
"well you always look beautiful dear, i don't know why one of my boys hasn't fallen for you yet"
Jackie coughed nervously, which ginny did not miss, seeing as the 14 year old was the only one that Jackie told about her little crush.
"oh, jackie you should come see the twins new shop with us tomorrow" said ginny with a little smirk on her face, which cause a blush to sweep jackies face.
"oh, heavens, they couldn't just finish the school year like jackie here, but no they had to leave the place in shambles...to start a joke shop no less..."Mrs Weasley continued to ramble on about the poor choices of her sons
"i'd love to ginny"
"i think you oaught to tell him tomorrow"ginny whispered so only you could here
"thats what i was planning, i just don't know how to break it to him, gosh this would be so much easier if i didn't love him."
"last i heard this was just a little crush"
"well last time i didn't want to admit it to even myself"
"oh jakie" ginny said excitingly as she wrapped her arms around you
"i just know that you two will be perfect for eachother"
"well lets hope he thinks the same way"
"jackie we got to go" yelled your mother who was saying her good-byes to the mr and mrs weasley along with your dad.
"bye, see you tomorrow"
"tomorrow" ginny yelled back with a knowing smirk.
The next day Jackie was a mess, she didn't know what to wear, she had to look cute but not overboard, after all george thought they were still friends, oh what was she gonna do with her hair. 'ugh...george is never gonna like me like this' she thought.
Finally she was ready, she had her hair in a messy bun, but a braid to make it look a little done up but still casual. she wore her favortie black leggings and her favorite little blue dress, it was prettyb enough to be cute but since she wore this stuff all the time it would still look casual.
"mom i'm leaving" jackie said as she took the floo powder into her her hand and stepped into the fireplace.
"the burrow" she yelled as she was engoifed in a green flame.
she fell out into the living room of the burrow, and was immediatly engolfed into a hug by Mrs. Weasley
"oh, darling, ginny should be down in just a little, the boys are already there, but mr weasley and i are gonna stay here."
"i heard my name" yelled a voice from the top of the stairs and sure enough there was ginny weasley.
"ready?"
"ready"
and with that they appartided straight to the outside of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, ginny gave jackie a look before going inside to find the others. Jackie was frozen in awe at the colorfulness and welcoming feeling of the store, this was truly their dream. Jackie took her first step in, this place was booming with business. She saw the twins making their way around the store, fixing things, filling shelves, help costumers.
She couldn't help but watch him with a grin on her face. He still looked the same, if not better since the last time she saw him. He had the same crooked smile that made her heart leap. He gave a little boy one of their famous fireworks, the boy set it off and out flew a giant bird that scared some older lady thier with her son. Then he laughed....oh that laugh how it made her melt inside. He walked back to the cash register. It was now or never, Jackie thought as she made her way towards him, when she came abrumptly to a stop. There she was. No Jackie didn't know this girl, but from the looks of it george did, very well. He gave he a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before disappearing into the back room.
Jakie booked it for the door, and Ginny was right behind her seeing the same thing as jackie had.
Jackie found the nearest bench and fell down bursting into tears.
"oh jackie, i had no clue, i'm soo sorry"
"its ok, i should have known that he just thought of me as a friend, i was stupid to think that he liked me like i liked him"suddenly she felt a burst of confidence, she grabbed the sweater in her hand and marched into the store. she didn't see him anywhere inside so she walked into the back.
"you can't go back there" said the girl from before, you saw that she was wearing work robes, just great she worked with him too.
"don't worry, i'm friends with the twins"jackie said snidly before continuing with her mission. and there she was him, in the corner looking at a picture.
the floor creaked and George looked up.
"jackie" said george staring in awe for a few minutes before pulling her into a hug. She smelt cinnamon, and she almost gave in before she remebered what she was doing, she clutched the sweater and pulled out of george's grasp.
"here" she said offering it to him with a small sad smile. at first he wouldn't take it, and the hurt in his eyes was hard to miss. so she put it on the chair he was just sitting in before walking out that door. George tried to stop her but as soon as she was outside that store she appartided home.
that night she crieds herself to sleep harder then any night at hogwarts after they left. What she didn't know was that George was crying himself. He clutched onto that sweater. He thought back to the night he had givin it to her.
they were walking together out on the grounds past curfew which was nothing new for these two, but umbridge sure was making it harder for these two. Tonight was the night before Fred and George were gonna leave this aweful place forever. But there was one thing George still had to do. Tonight was gonna be the night he confessed his feelings for jackie, he was just hoping that she would feel the same.
"jackie...there is somthing i have to....are you cold" he stops seeing as she is shivering. George takes off his home knit sweater from his mother and throughs it on her."here"
Jackie puts it on and blushes.
"Jackie there is somthing i've been meaning to tell you"
"Go on" an odvious smile streches across her beautiful face.
"i...well-i..."
"hmmm hmmm" came that annoying hum
"what do we have here, two students out of there beds, past curfew no less,oh dear boys and girls do not belong conversing outdoors this late alone, what sinful heathens, off, back to your common rooms, now"
George and Jackie made it back to the common room safely.
"so goerge what did you want to say"
"i...the thing is...i kinda think...that i...well...oh i'll just say it...i lov..."george rambled but looked down when weight hit is cheast. There was Jackie, she had fallen asleep on his cheast" i love you" he whispered before levitating her to her own bed.
Why had he been such a coward, why did it have to be like this, what did he do wrong to make her feel like this.he kept contemplating these things while drifting off to sleep himself.
the next morning he was determined to get his feelings out. he went down to the loft where him and fred stayed to find fred and melissa making out on the couch, melissa was one of their employees and freds latest girl, actually she has lasted pretty long and was starting to become like family.
"hey fred, do you think i can get today off"
"finally gonna tell jackie how you feel bro?"
"jackie, was she the girl who came into the store yesturday"
"yeah"
"oh, now i feel bad, i gave her crap for trying to go back there"
"it's ok, i just need to work somethings out with her"
"sure bro, you can take the day off, but remember this...you owe me"
"k, whatever"
And with that George "popped" to the burrow
"oh george your here, sit, we are just having breakfast"
"no it's gine mom, i was actually just stopping bye so i could go talk to jackie next door"
"oh of coarse dear"
and with that george made his way over to the Ritter's House next door
"oh dear, it seems my little georgy has finally come to his sense" sniffled mrs. weasley as she watched him leave
It took George a few minutes to get to their house, seeing as there was a giant open field between both houses. he rung the doorbell hoping jackie would answer, he wanted to get this over with fast.but to his dismay Mrs Ritter opened the door.
"hello mrs ritters i was wondering if i could possibly speak with jackie"
"oh please george, your practically family please call me Shannon"
"alright, Shannon, i was wondering if i could speak with jackie, it's kinda important."
"oh coarse George, she is up in her room, i don't think she is awake yet"
Jackie sat by her windowsil, wondering if this pain would stop, when she heard a soft knock on her door. she didn't answer, she didn't really want to talk to anyone right now. but it seemed the person had other plans as the storm through the door, but stop in the middle of the room. There stood George Weasley, the George Weasley, the boy she was crying her eyes out for right now. She got ready to turn away not wanting to have George see her like this, but the look in his eye made her stop.
For a while the room was silent, neither of them speaking just boring into one another's eyes. Jackie looked ready to speak, but george beat her to the punch and pulled her into the most passionate kiss she has ever had. pulling apart she is stunned.
"now jackie before you say anything there is something i have to tell you...i love you, i have loved you since the moment i met you and i don't think i'll ever be able to stop, if you don't feel the same way say something....."george paused but after a while realizing she was not planning on inturpting him he continued "...but if you do feel the same way about me i need to know"
and with that jackie flings into george's arms and goes in for another kiss. but mid kiss she remembers something and pulls away.
"what about your girlfriend George"
"what, i don't have a girlfriend, at least not yet."
"but what about that girl who works with you?"jackie asks ignoring the last part of his sentance.
"melissa, oh she's not my girlfriend...."
"don't give me that i saw you kiss her cheek"
"yeah, thats because she is like a sister, fred's been going out with her since before we even left hogwarts"
"then how come i've never met her"
"oh she doesn't go to hogwarts, she lives here, she is the one who sold us the loft for the shop."
"oh,"
"sooo...jackie, now that that is set aside...will you go out with me"
"yes" jackie jumped into his arms for a excited hug, and thats when she smelt it...cinnamon.
#songfic#harry potter x reader#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagine#george weasley x reader#george weasley imagine#fanfics
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29. Slowly, the words dripping from your tongue like honey
Dragon Age ask meme! featuring my Adaar Inquisitor x Cullen
tags: slow-fucking, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, power bottom, sub!Cullen, praise kink, minor mention of prostate massage
nsfw below the cut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
“Don’t come yet!”
It’s clearly an order, but Cullen’s voice lilts up into a hint of breathlessness at the end as he shoves himself back on Adaar’s cock. She grits her teeth and helps him keep the rhythm with greedy hands clutching his stuttering hips, fucking him through his orgasm.
He chants her name more reverently than any prayer, and the sound of it is almost as beautiful as when he chokes off into silence. Then he drops down to his elbows, head hung low as he gasps through it, and finally drops all the way down, face turned to the side and pressed into the pillow.
Daar whimpers, but her cock is still throbbing vainly inside him and he’s just so beautiful–worry lines finally eased out as he goes limp with a sigh, swollen red lips falling open and long lashes fluttering against his cheek. No one can blame her for the noise she makes at a sight like that.
“Look at you, kadan,” she murmurs, smoothing a hand from his hip up his back to lightly squeeze the back of his neck. “So beautiful. My sweet heart.”
Golden eyes blink open, and the voice that had commanded her just a moment ago speaks softly, gaze almost shy.
“Another?” he asks.
Daar grins and leans down to place a kiss on his temple, pausing a second to nuzzle into his curls.
“Good boy.”
Praise first. It took so long for him to learn how to ask for what he wants, feel safe enough to do so, fight past all the sermons on lust and sin echoing in his mind. Daar kisses down his cheek, at the corner of his jaw, to his neck, and he breathes out another contented little sigh.
“Anything you want,” she promises. “You only have to tell me.”
She rolls her hips into his, and his mouth falls open again in a soundless gasp. He spreads his legs even further though, knees obscenely wide against the bedsheets, already eager to go again. Her other hand curls around him to find his cock, and this time he does let out a hiss from the overstimulation, but he whines when she tries to pull away.
“Want,” Cullen chokes out.
Daar pauses, then trails her fingers lightly up his come-slick shaft. “All right, I got you.”
He practically mewls as she keeps petting him with the barest of touches, hips grinding flush against his, not even pulling her cock back, just rocking the head of it up into his prostate.
“Want,” he mumbles again, the words flowing freer now that pleasure has already overwhelmed him once. “Good. So good when you fuck me.”
“And you’re my good boy,” she tells him in reply. “My loyal commander. So strong and brave.”
He lets out a whine, clenching around her at the praise. Daar swipes her thumb over the head of his cock, and when he doesn’t shy away, closes her hand around him more firmly.
“Maker, yes.” Cullen shudders beneath her as the blasphemy drips from his lips. “Don’t leave. D-Don’t … pull out. Fuck. Just–”
Daar closes her teeth around where his neck meets his shoulder, and the words lump up in his throat. She holds him like that until he relaxes, hadn’t even realized he’d tensed up again, sagging back down into the mattress.
“Good boy. I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”
“I–ahhhhh.”
Daar chuckles into the soft whorls of his hair, nails scraping up the length of his shaft a second time before the pad of her thumb presses against his slit.
Cullen breathes out words again, babbling, but slower, everything thick and hazy and so good he’ll die, that maybe he already has died and this is heaven.
“Love you,” he slurs. “So … so much. Daar–darling, love–”
He chokes off with a growl, burying his face into the pillow, biting down on it as he comes, her cock never pausing the slow filthy grind inside him and her hand stroking him through several more hot spurts that only add to the mess on the sheets, his chest, a thick streak on his chin.
Adaar mercifully releases her grip on him, both hands running down his ribs, then up his back, across his shoulders. This time he whimpers, too far gone to support any of his weight or form more words.
“How about another?”
Cullen finds that he does still know one word after all.
“Please.”
#dragon age fic#inquisitor x cullen#cullen rutherford#dai#dragon age#my writing#thank you for the prompt!
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recap of last night’s session!
The next leg of our journey is hit with a delay when our darling Virhea goes missing. So instead of having me meander through the woods looking for her, Elathera and Industria decide to scry on her. Instead of some peaceful image of her working through her trauma in a healthy way like punch dancing out in the forest, we get treated to the sight of a man who is very obviously dead. His back is cut open and his ribcage is cracked. His lungs are spread out on the rock he's laying on and Virhea's cleaning her hands of his blood. The dude basically looks like a German torture porn filmmakers take on the phrase "spread out like a buffet".
We all experience a plethora of emotions in this moment. Disgust being the most prominent and as the rest of the party is discussing why this is happening and what the hell we can do about it, I step out of the carriage to go puke in the woods. How convenient that that man's brother is out looking for him and stumbles upon me! I tell him I'll find his brother and send him home and eventually I sneak up on Virhea who's busy burying the body. I ask why she did it and the man was in the mob that killed her, so while I think it's beyond brutal, I understand and when we get back to the others, I cover for her. Cuz that's what friends do.
Except pro tip for real life, kids. If your friend goes and blood eagles somebody, you should probably alert the authorities.
Anyways, Industria buys my lie of Virhea acting in self-defense because she was attacked because of course she doesn't wanna believe her sister's out there doing shit like that willy nilly. Everybody else is suspicious, but doesn't question it for the moment. As me and Rikius take our seats at the front of the carriage, he asks for the truth of it and I crack because I can't lie to my boyfriend. Things inside the carriage are awkward for Elathera and Lucky because they know something more is up, but who's gonna be the dick and accuse her of outright murdering someone in cold blood? No one. That's who.
Eventually our carriage ride takes us to a pocket of the world where civilization is practically non-existent. It's plains and plateaus as far as the eye can see, so we stop and make camp for the night. Our camping spot has signs of life from the past and that worries me, so I decide to go look around and Virhea and Lucky join me. The spot's safe for camping, thankfully, and we all watch a cougar chow down on some wild cattle before I'm struck with a stupid idea. I wanna tame the cougar. Lucky and Virhea ask if I've ever done it before and of course not. So what better time to try it than now? I approach the cougar and after some coaxing and calming it down, I get to pet it. I go in for a hug and it darts away, but I coax it back out for more pets.
I seriously contemplate taking it as a pet, but decide not to and we head back to camp. But the cougar has taken a liking to me and follows us back casually. No one's immediately concerned until Rikius questions it. Virhea says I have a new companion and I have already named my new son. Nugget. Industria goes to pet my dear Nugget, but startles him so he bites her. Cue the Great Cougar Debate that had us all torn. Virhea actively encourages me to keep Nugget and train him, but Rikius and Industria are against this because it's a wild animal and that's a no-no. Eventually a consensus is reached after Industria reminds me it could be dangerous to bring around my sisters and Rikius brings up that it's also dangerous to be bringing around our daughter and I have to be a responsible mother.
Virhea shoos Nugget from our summoned cabin thanks to Elathera and we turn in for the night. Or I would've if my room wasn't empty and devoid of my man. After a conversation with Elathera about Virhea's issues, I look for him, but instead I find Virhea doing ballet outside by the firelight. I decide to join her and she gives me a free dancing lesson. She fixes my posture (gay) and we pirouette the night away while Industria practices swordfighting with Ilyana, Lucky watching on. Elathera is lonely and summons herself a bunny to sleep with and eventually I turn in for the night too. Rikius was hiding out and keeping an eye on Virhea because hey, she murdered somebody recently and witnessed the dance lesson.
The next leg of our journey to a sacred river ends with us reaching the river, but not the shrine we're looking for. Elathera conjures up a big ass boat and an unseen crew and we get to pretend we're sailing the open seas for awhile. Except Virhea who hates every minute of this and hides out in the cabin. After some fishing and enjoying the breeze, it's time to sleep on the boat because nothing could ever go wrong. I perch myself in the crow's nest and there's a sound of very loud, rushing water and Industria hears it too. She realizes it's a waterfall, so she tells Elathera to hook up the boat with some magic gliders so we don't die. Gliders are made, Elathera holes up in the captain's quarters. Industria grabs her child and flies because she ain't risking shit.
She casts a fly spell on Virhea, who flies up to the crow's nest and tells me to hang onto her in case the shit hits the fan. And Lucky and Rikius prepare themselves with fly spells too. The boat goes over the waterfall. We hold our breaths. And then down it goes as the gliders couldn't carry the weight of our sins. Luckily we're all safe! But hey, where's Elathera? She went down with the boat and got trapped underwater, getting battered by rocks as the river current down there pulls her away. But luckily Industria saves her, but not before getting tossed around herself. They emerge on shore with the rest of us and as we take in the scenery, an aarakocra man approaches to basically ask us what the fuck's going on.
Industria explains that we're here to return some artifacts to the shrine. The purple pendant we found in the dragon's lair belongs to these people, but we forgot who was carrying it. I make a pretty big slip-up when I say I didn't take that one and instantly, Industria enters Mom Mode to question me. Industria tells me she's going to ground me and eventually talks me into handing it over the holy diamond I stole and I'm scolded hard. Elathera doesn't admit to her part in it, so I kindly do it for her. Industria then yells at me for trying to drag Elathera down to my level and I am Crushed. Because Elathera didn't stand up for me, we experience our first fight and greed totally nearly tears us apart.
Eventually the party splits, leaving me, Elathera, and Lucky alone. They suggest we go and steal more stuff and Elathera's all for it, but I'm still upset, so I storm off and throw myself into a bush because mom grounded me. Lucky followed after and finds it weird that I'm handling this by hiding in a bush, but they join me anyways and comfort me by reminding me that they're my ancestor, so that means they can unground me. Virhea had stalked the bird man who had the artifacts and steals the diamond back. She finds me and gifts it to me and I can't resist the gem's charm for long and stuff it back in my bag of holding.
Then it's time for another dancing lesson and as we waltz around, just gals being girls and all that, Industria and Rikius catch up with us. As we all dance away, Industria plays some hot jams on her lyre and it's all great until she mentions finding Elathera. I don't want to see that traitor ever again and when I say this, Industria is upset because she doesn't want us fighting. I'm sat down for another Mom Talk in which she tells me she knows it's hard to let old ways go, but I need to be a better person. I came out to have a good time and I feel attacked, so I say that they're trying to make me the bad guy here and now I'm gonna run away. Industria urges me not to, but says she'll find me if I do, so I start walking away.
Rikius is now concerned and tells me not to, so I stop. Long enough for Industria to glomp me (yes, those were Erick's words. 2006 called him and he couldn't resist), but I dodge it because I'm having a mood right now. She hits the ground hard and Virhea busts out laughing while Rikius helps her up. I made the situation worse and when I realize I was being an asshole, I relent and we hug and make up. We find Elathera fishing at the river after she repaired our carriage that we totally didn't forget about. Arnor is spooked as shit after what transpired and when Virhea goes to soothe his nerves, he kicks her, sending her flying back and hitting the ground with some broken ribs. Maybe if she didn't kill that man in the village this wouldn't have happened. I don't wanna say it's karma, but it's karma.
With tensions still high between me and Elathera, the aasimar sisters decide to separate us for a bit. Industria takes me out to find food for the party, and Virhea takes Elathera out to gift her with a beautiful staff that's a replica of her grandfather's staff. You know, the big, black rod she had to crack (ooh bby) to get us to Heaven for the first time. While Elathera is wary of Virhea, she lights up at this and is pleasantly surprised that she actually got a gift and wasn't being dragged outside to be murdered. We all have dinner as a family and then everybody parts again, leaving me and Elathera alone. She tries to leave, but I ask why we're letting this diamond tear us apart. She doesn't know. We have a nice heart-to-heart and mend our friendship that was absolutely on the rocks, except not really because we care about each other, and decide to go out exploring for the night.
If you have been reading these posts since the beginning, then you know very well by now that having me and Elathera run off together is a terrible idea. We're the Dream Team...if your dream involves everything turning into a disaster. Haha, we're a catastrophe. So we're walking along the dewy grass outside the village we were taken to earlier until we come to the river. Across the river and through the mist, we can make out lights and ominous chanting. We're thinking there's some creepy shit afoot until we realize it's just the tribals doing their religious ceremony. Not wanting to disturb them, we go a different way and I spot an abandoned structure in the distance. We wonder if there's anything inside, so we go to check it out.
It looks like a wizard once lived here and Elathera's special eyes see the place is teeming with magical energy. We think for a second that we hit the jackpot until I try the door and realize it's an illusion. I tell her and she dispels it and there's...nothing there. I look around. Nothing out of the ordinary now, so Elathera steps to where the house used to be and is attacked by a moonbeast. These things are really gross, Lovecraftian bullshit and apparently they're intelligent and slavers. We did it, guys. We discovered a trap and still walked into it anyways. Dream Team making it happen over here. Virhea and Rikius are concerned with how long we've been gone, so they set out to find us. As we're battling our potential doom, I hit Industria up on the transcendental bond to tell mom that we're in trouble. She was asleep and is not happy, but she alerts everybody else.
Unfortunately, because we're being attacked, I didn't give too many details so all Virhea and Rikius had to work with was "Kina" and "tentacles". Now everyone's fearing that my ass has walked onto a hentai set. Luckily we manage to fell the beast and I get to ring up mom and let her know everything's all good. We loot the body and find some stuff of value and me and Elathera are truly buddies once more as we decide to split the gold once we get a chance to sell the shit. We catch up with Virhea and Rikius and they ask us what happened. I tell them we walked right into a trap and Rikius says that's about right. They inspect the beast and Virhea shoves her fist down its throat (ooh bby again) to see its diet. They scold us and say we're not allowed to adventure alone anymore, but I say we saved the day and Elathera's jazzed about our victory too, so we high-five. We totally planned taking out that foul beast, but they don't buy our bullshit.
So I change it. We preemptively saved the day from the thing that wasn't an issue for the tribe yet and go to high-five my buddy cop again, but Elathera isn't feeling it anymore and her high-five game is weak. Virhea mentions that we were invited to the religious ceremony, so we ring up the whole crew to go watch. It's a beautiful display as the tribe has gems that radiate light back to the sky as they reflect the moonlight. They pray over these gems and it's all one big new years celebration for them as once a year, our earth is treated to the sight of a second moon. After, we're invited back to town for the fair. There's food and trinket stalls all about and aarakocra performing tricks on land and in the air.
Me and Virhea get a little too wasted, leaving everybody else to watch over us. I tell everyone I got something cool to show them and begin climbing a tree. Rikius is already concerned and tries to grab me, but I'm a slippery gal and carry on. My plan is to do a backflip right off the tree and concern and worry plague the party, except for Virhea who cheers me on. Elathera conjures up a big ol' cushion to break my fall, so I do my backflip, get launched off the cushion, and land on my ass. Virhea claps and I tell her I can do a cartwheel off a tree too, but everyone shoots my plan down. Whatever. I can do it on the ground too, so fuck ya'll.
I cartwheel and somehow fuck it up pretty bad and sprain my wrist. Despite Industria saying she wouldn't heal me, she heals me anyways and is exasperated with our drunken bullshit as Virhea does a cartwheel too. We get up and go to high-five and miss. We do it again. Miss. We're both worried now that we're not real. Nobody's real. We panic. I wrap my arms around Rikius. He's real. Virhea runs a hand down Industria's face. She's real...and uncomfortable. We double team Elathera (ooh fucking bby), but she casts something and disappears. Obviously she's not real so we panic. It's then Industria suggests we turn in for the night, but I wanna party.
The party is not done until I say it's done...or until Rikius tells me "no". Which he does. But Virhea gets us some drinks anyways and then Elathera teleports us back to the cabin. I'm startled and drop my drink before we go, but Virhea's a bro and hands me hers. Rikius takes it, so she asks for it back. He gives it back to her. She hands it back to me and he stops her yet again. I'm not gonna let him ruin my fun, so I go climb the stairs to do another sick ass backflip that could potentially kill me, but he stops me. Virhea suggests we take our party outside to the fireside and I go to leave, but he grabs and hauls my ass off to the bedroom.
Lucky is tasked with watching over my bro and we all wake up, managing to shake off the drink. Except for me.
#adventures of the volunteer fire department#oc: zakina kociak#this one's long but i think i'm back in the swing of writing recaps#game: pathfinder crusades
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World is Not Enough
بِسْمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحْمَـٰنِ الرَّحِيمِ
What comes to your mind when you think of bliss? Cozy Home? Company of your loved ones? Yes, I can almost see you smile as you think about your beloved parents, spouse, children, and friends. Who is the apple of your eye? What wouldn’t you do to see him/her happy? I know, the whole world means nothing to us when it comes to our beloved.
For most of us, the most loving person is our mother; the person who deserves most respect is our father; the people whom we stand by are our siblings; the greatest people on earth are our like-minded friends; and, our children are most innocent beings! They are the apple of our eyes. They make our little world. We do everything to add color to it. Of course, this doesn’t mean we are rude to others. We are at our best behavior to those around us. But all this could change!
Few months back, when I and my darling seven-year-old son were attempting to memorize verses from Quran, we came across the verses which made us realize the world could be insufficient! Every valuable thing would mean absolutely nothing to us! We wouldn’t be bothered about our dear ones when it comes to SAVING OURSELVES.
Are you wondering what am I speaking about? See for yourself what the verses from Surah Ma’arij (Chapter 70 – Quran) state:
يُبَصَّرُونَهُمْ ۚ يَوَدُّ الْمُجْرِمُ لَوْ يَفْتَدِي مِنْ عَذَابِ يَوْمِئِذٍ بِبَنِيهِ
وَصَاحِبَتِهِ وَأَخِيهِ
وَفَصِيلَتِهِ الَّتِي تُؤْوِيهِ
وَمَن فِي الْأَرْضِ جَمِيعًا ثُمَّ يُنجِيهِ
كَلَّا ۖ إِنَّهَا لَظَىٰ
They will be shown each other. The criminal will wish that he could be ransomed from the punishment of that Day by his children
And his wife and his brother
And his nearest kindred who shelter him
And whoever is on earth entirely [so] then it could save him.
No! Indeed, it is the Flame [of Hell],
(verses 11 to 15)
The punishment of the Day of Reckoning would be so unbearable that we will try saving ourselves at any cost. Even, if it meant exchanging our place for every being on the Earth! Strangely, here we are ready to commit a sin to please our dear ones or acquire little gain. Even if we are kings and queens ruling the entire world, our kingdom, our royal family and loyal subjects couldn’t save us from the consequences of our sins! What kind of richness are we longing for?
My son was visibly surprised and worried to read the verses. He wondered who will face such a fate. The next few verses portrayed a picture of a disobedient hoarder of wealth. The one who is impatient during adversity and selfish when he is blessed with wealth.
Now like me and you, my son questioned – how can we save ourselves? I read ahead to learn that those who pray (establish prayer) will be safe. Verses that follow explain in detail what such people do:
Those who are constant in their prayer (Verse 23)
And those within whose wealth is a known right For the petitioner (one who asks/begs) and the deprived (Verses 24 and 25)
And those who believe in the Day of Recompense (Verse 26)
And those who are fearful of the punishment of their Lord (Verse 27)
And those who guard their chastity. (Verse 29)
And those who are to their trusts and promises attentive (Verse 32)
And those who are in their testimonies upright (Verse 33)
And those who [carefully] maintain their prayer (Verse 34)
They will be in gardens, honored. (Verse 35)
My son desires to be like the people mentioned above. May Allah make us amidst Musaleen (Those who establish prayer) – Ameen.
I have read this surah and its meaning earlier too. But when I read it with an intention to memorize it, it shook me from within. How carelessly had I scanned through this chapter without pondering upon the weight of the events mentioned in it! At the same time, I couldn’t stop admiring the sequence of the verses – how each verse led to another; how the chapter warned us and showed us a way to escape from Hell. Subahan Allah (Exalted be Allah)
How wretched will be the state of the person who hasn’t bothered to open and understand Quran? May Allah make it easy for us to learn and understand Quran. May we give Quran its due right by practicing what we learn. May we and our loved ones be amidst those in Jannah (paradise). Ameen.
I have not explained the entire chapter here. I have just included the verses which I partly explained my son. Nothing is holding you back from reading the Tafsir (explanation) of this chapter. Go Ahead. Perhaps, you can enlighten us with what you learn.
In the month of Ramadan as I was reading through Quran, this verse from Surah Rad reminded me Surah Ma’arij again:
For those who have responded to their Lord is the best [reward], but those who did not respond to Him – IF THEY HAD ALL THAT IS IN THE EARTH ENTIRELY AND THE LIKE OF IT WITH IT, THEY WOULD [attempt to] RANSOM THEMSELVES THEREBY. Those will have the worst account, and their refuge is Hell, and wretched is the resting place. (Chapter 13; Verse 18)
Even if we have one more world just like this one in our possession, IT CANNOT SAVE US FROM THE HELL FIRE! What good are the wealth and the comfort if we fail to recognize ourselves as His slaves? Is it really worth disobeying Lord for some useless material gain?
Be aware,
We cannot reserve a spot in Heaven in exchange for this world
Source: Muslimahbloggers.com
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