#everyone around is stronger than you and trained and more capable than you

[danieyells]

NO THAT'S FINE I'M FINE WITH REPLIES i just have it under a cut because i'm not trying to raise a huge fuss and i don't wanna put my complaining on people's dashes lmao

YEAH BASICALLY LIKE. . .IMAGINE YOU'VE LOST EVERYTHING AND ON TOP OF LOSING EVERYTHING YOU'VE BEEN SHIPPED TO ANOTHER COUNTRY WHERE THE ONLY THING FAMILIAR IS MOST OF THE LANGUAGE. You probably would not be doing half as well!!! No it's not supposed to be realistic necessarily but it's still supposed to be 'a story Just Some Guy entering extraordinary circumstances.' the MC is Just Some Guy. And if you aren't Just Some Guy? Proud of you! But she is!! Let her be Just Some Guy and do her best!! She must be completely haggard!

Also another part of the Mc as wish fulfilment is 'I am helpless and normal but everyone around is doting on me in their own way, even if they aren't always nice or safe about it', and my needs are all met. Kind of adjacent to the fantasies of 'i have contracted some mysterious new illness and i've been shipped to a government facility where everyone is working around the clock to look after me and they find out everything wrong about me and fix and resolve my problems and i come out of this with my life bettered'--I know other people have had that daydream, that fantasy, of round the clock care. Yes in those fantasies usually Everybody Is Nice but also they're not meant to be engaging stories with interesting characters. It's a lot like those fantasies! Or fantasies about being abducted and studied by aliens. You live in their world now but you're important enough to be protected. But the world isn't safe for you. Idk. Just. It's a story. A narrative. And you're supposed to see how she does things and lives her life and you can either read it as a story or project onto it. . .but it's still her story, with your inputs providing minimal change to the story. Her story, not yours. And she's doing her damndest

Like maybe she's not the most engaging character of the bunch but she isn't really supposed to be. She's Just Some Guy. That's part of what's interesting about her--she's an ordinary person in extraordinary circumstances and that in and of itself is interesting.

Idk if I would have died in her circumstances but I would probably be depressed and stressed and in a lot of pain unless I was introduced to anomalous pain management(which I'm sure they have.) She's being made to run around and risk her life! For the story! For the plot! For the entertainment! And, in character, for her life! She has to get their favor and get close to them so they will care enough about her to want to save her damn life! It doesn't matter if they're mean, the mean ones are the strongest and most capable. The kind ones are the closest thing you have to friends. You need everyone's favor, everyone needs to work together for her sake(and the world's sake) there are stories here and it just!

Annoys me a bit that people cannot conceptualize who and what she is as a character and a narrative entity haha just. MAN MAYBE YOU THINK YOU'D BE SOME BADASS IN THIS SITUATION OR HAVE GOTTEN THE GROUP OF PEOPLE CHOSEN BY DEMONS TO LISTEN TO YOU AND GET THEIR SHIT TOGETHER BUT I DOUBT IT. I REALLY DO. I DOUBT THAT IF YOU TRIED TO FIGHT A GHOUL YOU'D WIN. AND YOU'RE ALREADY DYING SO I DON'T THINK THEY'D CARE THAT MUCH IF THEY KILLED YOU. . . .

Just. Realistically she's keeping her shit together really well. She has fainting spells and zones out a fair amount but she's doing pretty well for herself since the school pays for all of her needs. And maybe that speaks to where she came from, maybe she had nothing to go back to. Maybe this is better than what she has at home. Maybe she's just focused as she can be because this is her life we're talking about and she's trying to live it while she has it, in case she's going to lose it in a few months. Regardless just. It's her. She's a different person from the player, even if she's meant to be easily projected onto for most of the target audience by design. And this is how she's doing it. And all things considered she's really doing great. No she's not some Badass Warrior Princess, yes she's getting dragged around on missions and at school, but what choice does she have? You really think she could do any of the investigations or missions herself? Untrained and defenseless? You really think dangerous artifacts(which, unless they're common artifacts, most of which you need permission to borrow, don't just listen to anybody they only listen to who they've chosen!) would be handed to her and easy to wield untrained so she could just try and go at it alone instead of trying to learn about her new world as best as she can in the time she has between working?

There are stories out there with strong, in control women I'm sure. And if that's what you want I think you'll be able to find it. But getting mad at this mc for being helpless isn't going to make the mc less helpless. I do think it'd be neat if the ring protected her a little--like how, pretending to be hera's snakes, it tried to whip romeo with tentacles in a pinch/emergency--but that would require more than two months of development to discover i'm sure! Like I know it's been six or seven months of the game itself but in game it hasn't even been three. Of course we haven't heard about previous ghouls and graduates' lives, she don't even know the people who're here yet. Of course we don't know anything about the ring and its powers yet, she's trying to figure out the world and the missions and hopefully a way to survive right now!

Just. It's a tiring thing to see a lot lmao. Idk if it's a media literacy thing or a genre familiarity thing or what but it gets kind of annoying to see lmao

BUT I'M GLAD YOU AND OTHERS AGREE HAHA like obviously i know i'm not the only one who thinks this way but it's like. Man. You see it a lot.

Venting about people complaining about MC lol

Is2g everytime i see people whining about 'why can't the mc do anything for herself!!! She should be badass uwu' it's like they don't. Understand her narrative role or function. Or that she's a regular human with an artifact that doesn't do anything for her and she's not allowed to have another one and cannot remove the one she has.

She is SUPPOSED TO BE DEFENSELESS. She is your window into the world and story as a regular ass person! 'i would pick up a weapon--' no the fuck you would not because they would not give you a weapon because regulations say one artifact per person and your ring is your one. 'they're so mean to her why doesn't she stand up for herself!!' because she is a human and they are several times stronger than her physically and she is from a culture where politeness conformity and not making a fuss is kind of the norm and is kind of expected of her 'why isn't she doing anything for herself!' what is she supposed to do. Literally what do you want Basic Bitch Human With No Defenses Besides The People Around Her Who's Going To Turn Into A Creature In Ten Months And Has No Way Of Investigating Or Progressing On Her Own to do. She goes on a mission with them every week she barely even has time to go to classes. She is probably extremely stressed and exhausted. She is completely helpless by design. If you don't like it write a fanfic or find another series or something. MCs like this are meant to be windows into the story, a place you as an ordinary person can project yourself into an extraordinary situation it's not badass wish fulfilment where you're in control, especially not this early on. If she got out of line they would probably put her in containment, or worse she would get hurt and be More Useless and then you'd bitch and moan some more.

Things are allowed to not be to your taste! Things are allowed to not appeal to you!! You do not have to partake of them if it bothers you!!! There are things out there for you and if they don't exist you can make them!!!

[drunk-person]

Leather gloves, jealous and dragons

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: After the moons pass and Aemond and Lady Y/n's marriage becomes increasingly stronger, there is only one creature capable of keeping the prince away from his wife for more than a few hours, Vhagar. Sometimes Y/n cares, sometimes she doesn't, but if there's one thing she never cares about, it's the thick black gloves that her husband wears when he goes flying.

WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, gloves being used inappropriately (a lot of things have been used inappropriately on this blog lately, I'm talking about you training yard), fingering, clothed sex, dom/sub tones if you squint, no description for reader.

Word cont: 2.900 k

Author's note: Okay, I was just casually scrolling through Aemond's tag when this idea came up, and yes I was writing the bottom half of the fourth chapter of The Gossip, but I HAD to write this story! @peachysunrize I hope you like it, I added some inventions from my head in the middle of it 💕💕. English is not my first language so be kind if you can.

Y/n Arryn was a respectable and well-regarded lady, throughout Westeros there were men fighting for her hand as soon as she was old enough to marry. Proposals came from the North, the Rech and even Dorne, but the one that was of most interest to Lord Arryn was the one that came in a black envelope with red edges sealed with the Targaryen family crest.

The hand of the king had proposed marriage between Y/n and his grandson Prince Aemond Targaryen. The young woman felt her heart come to her mouth as soon as her father told her what he had decided, she would marry Prince Aemond in two moons.

The first time Y/n set foot on Kings Landing she was terrified, the idea of marrying a man she barely knew making her thoughts cloudier than water. And when she met Prince Aemond, this terror increased even more, something she didn't think was possible.

He was as scary and taciturn as they had told her, he barely gave her a look and only said two words of courtesy, other than muttering every now and then while looking down on everyone as if he were from a race superior to mere mortals.

Y/n's fear became even more overwhelming after she met Aegon, Aemond's older brother. Her heart ached as she listened to the gossip around the fortress about how he cheated on his wife, how he was always drunk, and how he spent more time in the brothels than in the fortress. Sadness took over her, and she imagined how terrible life itself would be from now on.

How wrong she was.

Things began to change on the night of the wedding when the prince vehemently denied a bed ceremony. Y/n was so nervous, the fear of the nuptials was already consuming her, combined with the fact that other people would be watching it made her tremble, until Aemond denied the ceremony and ripped that fear out of her.

The remaining fear was quickly extinguished when Aemond gently laid her on the bed and made her cry with pleasure in a way she never thought possible. Her hands tangled in his silver strands of hair as he touched her in places that made her blush with embarrassment as she remembered the other day.

From then on, little by little, she got to know her husband and every day she became more grateful for that. He still had that stoic and arrogant air, but now Y/n could see behind it, she saw the small acts of importance he gave her daily.

How he made a point of having at least one meal a day with her, how he asked how her day had been, how every now and then she would wake up after a passionate night and find an arrangement of beautiful flowers on the table in her room. And each of these things from the smallest to the largest warmed her heart until it was completely melted by her husband, to the point where she couldn't wait to be with him.

Little by little Aemond spent more and more time with her, and when they weren't tangled in the sheets so close together that you didn't know where one began and the other ended, they were sitting in the gardens talking, or reading together in some quiet place, or even just quietly enjoying each other's company. At a certain point, the only one who could receive more attention from Aemond than Y/n was Vhagar since he almost always went on long flights with the dragon.

That afternoon in particular Aemond was taking much longer than usual and Y/n was waiting for him impatiently as she walked around the room. He had promised to arrive before sunset so they would have time to walk around the garden, but now the sun had already set and the maids had even lit the candles.

The loud noise of the door suddenly invaded the room and Y/n promptly got up to wait for her husband, as soon as he entered her field of vision Y/n arched her eyebrows ironically.

-Did you decide to show up, husband? - Moons ago Y/n wouldn't have spoken to him in such a way in her wildest dreams, but now she was so familiar with him that she often didn't have as much politeness when speaking.

-I'm sorry, wife. - He said, removing the belt with the dagger and sword and throwing it on the couch. -Vhagar was a little sensitive this afternoon, she tends to want to fly longer distances when she is like this.

Y/n just made a humming sound with her mouth instead of responding, a habit she had picked up from Aemond without even realizing it. However, Y/n couldn't help biting her lower lip lightly when she saw him still wearing his riding clothes, she had never said anything to him, but seeing him returning from the flight always affected her mood and it was almost automatic so that she got excited.

-Wife… - Aemond murmured, approaching Y/n from behind and holding her firmly by the waist. -Are you by any chance jealous of Vhagar… a dragon?

His voice was incredulous and Y/n burned with embarrassment. Before she could respond Aemond laughed, something that rarely happened, which made her blush even more as she tried tried to free herself from his arms.

-You don't need to be embarrassed, I find it very flattering that you feel such appreciation for me to the point of feeling jealous. - He arched his eyebrow, still smiling. - No matter how unreasonable it may be.

-Husband.. - Y/n complained grumpily looking at her feet.

At that point she was no longer red only from the small misbehavior, but also from the thin, rough texture of her husband's riding gloves against her sensitive, soft skin. That was always a problem, she couldn't help but sigh every time she saw Aemond arrive wearing those damn gloves. And when he ripped them off and threw them haphazardly on the table? She felt a pressure between her legs that made her want to jump on him.

-What is it? Why are you all bristling, wife? - Aemond rubbed his hands against her arms and Y/n shivered even more making him arch his eyebrows again.

-They're your gloves, husband. - She said looking at the floor. – They are rough.

-I can take it off if you want. - He spoke, still gently stroking her arms, but after speaking he noticed that his wife lowered her eyes and didn't respond and then, approaching her lips to her ear, he spoke in a low voice, almost making her sigh. - You don't want me to take it off, do you?

-Do you like rougher things, dear wife? - And with the question he ran his hands down Y/n's body and slowly pulled the fabric of the dress up and accumulated them on her hips, making Y/n gasp as she felt the rough gloves passing over her thighs and squeezing them. slowly. Aemond couldn't help but smile when he noticed his wife's reactions to the roughest touch.

-Come here my dear, I'll show you how much I missed you. - He said, pulling her more and more towards him, sitting in one of the armchairs in the room while he placed her on his lap facing the large mirror and guided his hands to his wife's knees, slowly separating her legs, now being able to see the moisture that had formed in her intimacy.

-I haven't even touched you yet, dear wife, and you're already so wet for me. - His delicious voice sounded in her ear as he slowly moved his hands up her thighs, making her desperate for him to get to where she needed him most. The sight of his gloved fingers running up her legs made her roll her eyes with desire.

Aemond smiled mischievously and Y/n held her breath, not knowing where to look. His smile intensified as he brought his fingers to her cunt and at this point Y/n was barely breathing with desire.

Slowly he guided two fingers to her entrance and rubbed gently, pulling some of the moisture concentrated there and taking it to the pearl, which he began to rub languidly, eliciting sighs and moans from Y/n.

-You look so beautiful when you open your legs for me. - He murmured, brushing his lips gently against the shell of her ear, making her let out a louder moan. - So beautiful making these perfect sounds when I've barely touched you yet.

He then moved his fingers down and with a smooth movement that made Y/n roll her eyes, he penetrated just one gloved finger into her cunt. The sight of his finger disappearing inside her as he admired her with that look of pure adoration made her want to cry with desire.

-Very good beautiful girl. - He sighed as he slowly moved his finger teasing her, knowing very well that she needed more. - You always welcome me so well. How about another one?

He had barely asked and Y/n was already nodding her head practically begging for him.

-Such a needy lady my wife is. - He murmured as he inserted another finger inside her, making her moan his name with praise. - I can't leave our bed for a few hours because it becomes a meaningless mess.

Aemond guided his free hand to the front laces of Y/n's dress and pulled them tightly, loosening her wife's neckline more and more until her breasts were exposed to his pure delight, who guided his gloved hand to her erect nipple. of her gently pinching him as he admired her reflection in the mirror.

Meanwhile he moved his fingers slowly inside her and the feeling of the rough fabric of her husband's gloves against her own soft and wet insides made Y/n see stars and sigh in contentment with the double stimulation. As Aemond fucked her with his fingers he found that spongy spot that took her body out of orbit, and when she moaned uncontrollably he smiled even more mischievously against her neck, leaving kisses and bites there, pinching her nipples even more.

-So good husband. - Y/n sighed, leaning on his shoulder.

-You don't know how much I want to fuck you right now. -He murmured, biting her ear and sucking it while he nuzzled his nose in her hair.

Aemond penetrated her third finger making her whimper, but unlike before where he caressed her gently, he now started to get into a rougher rhythm, still slow but with force. And Y/n in turn just clung to his arms as she threw herself back, leaning against her husband's clothed chest, and moving her hips in search of more friction.

-So desperate my wife, throwing herself against my fingers like a beautiful filthy whore. -He brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen across her face when he said that, so that Y/n could see herself better in the mirror, and the sight of her made her moan even louder.

His gloved fingers moving in and out of her cunt, his palm firmly massaging her mound, the fabric of the gloves slightly moistened and a white ring forming at the base of the fingers contrasting strongly with the dark color they possessed. The contractions of pleasure of her cunt crushing Aemond's skilled fingers as he smiled and bit her neck working even harder to coax pleasure out of her, he loved the feeling of her silky walls squeezing around him.

The way he curled his fingers and then moved them in and out made every nerve ending in Y/n burn. The roughness of the fabric was driving her crazy and she wanted so much more, she wanted to be set on fire.

-Husband. - She moaned, arching her back and pressing herself even more against him while turning her neck slightly to face him, taking one of her hands to his hair and removing the eye patch in the process. - I'm so close… so close. Please.

-I like it as much as you implore my dear. - He guided his other hand to her chin and squeezed it tightly, forcing her to keep her eyes exclusively on the mirror's reflection, the rough fabric of the glove making her gasp, while the sight of Aemond's now uncovered sapphire eye made her moan. - But I want you to keep your hungry little eyes on your pussy.

-See how wet she is for me, how well she takes my fingers, you are dripping my dear wife. - The movements became faster and stronger and Y/n felt some tears run down her cheeks as she moaned uncontrollably at the sight of Aemond's gloved fingers buried so deeply in her soaked cunt.

And when he accelerated the movements of both his fingers inside Y/n and his palm against her sensitive pearl, Y/n cried and screamed as she came against his hand, shuddering with pleasure.

Aemond was lost at that scene. He couldn't take his eyes off his wife's cunt writhing against his fingers as her juices oozed out between his fingers. Her face full of pleasure as she screamed and begged for his name was another thing that could easily kill him in that instant, he would certainly die happy with that scene.

-Look at the mess you make, my dear. - He said after removing his fingers from her trembling cunt. - Clean up for me like the good wife I know you are.

Aemond guided his hand to Y/n's lips and she lazily sucked on his gloved fingers. The taste of the fabric mixed with her own taste further numbing her mind, still clouded by the orgasm.

And Aemond could no longer contain himself when he saw that expression of contentment on her face as she sucked on his gloved fingers. And he quickly took her off his lap and bent her over the carpet, still facing the mirror, making her gasp from the abrupt movement.

Y/n had barely balanced herself and Aemond had already undid the laces of his own pants and guided his cock to her sensitive pussy. They both moaned senselessly as soon as he penetrated her completely. And he quickly brought his hands to the top of her dress, dragging it down and leaving her breasts completely free for him to massage and squeeze as he pleased.

He fucked her so well, and Y/n lost her breath with each firm thrust from Aemond and panted with pleasure as she whimpered for more with tears in her eyes.

She raised her head, looking towards the mirror again, and the sight of his hand massaging her hips and squeezing her nipples as he fucked her while still wearing those damned riding gloves made her eyes roll with pleasure, and she begged for him with Even more willing looking into his eyes and sighing when finding that blue glow that she had learned to love so much.

-I love that look you have when I'm inside you. - He groaned, rolling his eye with pleasure as he fucked her, and Y/n lowered her face once again. Aemond then guided his hand to her chin, forcing her to look at the mirror again, he wouldn't miss a second of that passionate look that his wife directed just at him and that made Aemond's heart race.

-No my dear, you keep those shining eyes on me while I fuck you like you deserve. - And removing his hand from her chin, Aemond went up to her hair and pulled it back, holding her firmly and keeping her gaze fixed on the mirror.

-Aemond, please. - She whimpered, enchanting him with those eyes that made him lose his head, and once again he guided the tips of his gloved fingers to the top of her thighs and caressed her forcefully, making his wife gasp and moan as she collapsed in front of him, who held her. by her hips as he fucked her with abandon looking for his own climax, which didn't take long to come when he came deep inside her.

The two remained motionless, their bodies pressed together and their breaths labored. Y/n brought her own bare hand to her husband's gloved hand and caressed it with gentle circles still completely lost in fleeting pleasure.

-You look even more beautiful when you're cumming all over my cock. - He murmured, still lost in pleasure against her hair, making his wife smile.

Y/n in turn, faced the mirror and sighed with contentment when she saw their reflection. Aemond behind her still panting with his usually stoic face relaxed in pleasure as he held her against him still holding her thighs firmly to keep her in contact with him as she squeezed lightly every now and then.

-Love you. - She said tiredly, still with her head lying on his shoulder, looking at him through the mirror.

Aemond didn't respond with words, he just mumbled like he always did. But Y/n no longer needed words, she had learned to distinguish every look, every touch and every sigh of her husband to know that he was also in love, especially when he pulled her even closer and left a soft kiss on her neck .

Tag list: @slut-for-m3 @fallout-girl219

[helluvapoison]

For All to See

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader x Lilith

Lilith has Lucifer and Lucifer has Lilith. Their eyes are well trained for snakes in the garden, they���re able to watch each other’s backs with ease. Everyone wants to know, just who the fuck are you to the King and Queen of Hell?

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• Technically speaking, they don’t need you

• Your heart lurches at the constant reminders

• Everywhere you look there’s capable hands doing anything you could do, and doing it better

• The guards around the Morningstar estate are appreciated and skilled but merely for show, their wise (albeit chaotic) council of Princes have never led them astray and they have more willing servants than they know what to do with

• It’d be impossible to forget how agonizingly obvious it is that you’re not needed beside them. Occasionally it was a paralyzing thought. You were nothing without them but they could continue on just fine without you

• And Lilith, ethereal, graceful, benevolent Lilith, noticed this. Her own heart ached for you, she loved you!

• You tenderly brushed her hair when she hadn’t even rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Combined with her husband’s efforts, you would make her feel beautiful when her mind told her the opposite. You would be on your feet beside her all day, shooting little thumbs ups that restored her energy when she was nearly depleted. Your unfailing attendance from her concerts to afternoon tea brought a comforting sense of normalcy to the disorder of the realm she ruled

• Lucifer, who loved you no less than she, was furious at himself for not realizing on his own

• You were his alarm clock, gently coaxing him out of bed and making the day seem more inviting than it did when he opened his eyes. You snuck into his room when everyone else (Lilith aside) was banished, claiming only to drop off a tray of snacks but would sit with him for hours on end just so that he wouldn’t be alone. When the world was too big, his own thoughts too heavy, it was you that made him feel bigger and stronger

• And you thought of yourself as inconsequential!?

• Blasphomy.

• They would not let this stand another fucking second

• They covered all their bases, working from the inside out

• You were instructed to join them for a portrait. Lucifer picked your outfit while Lilith did your hair then they sandwiched you between them. It took several hours and you ached from standing still for so long but the painting looked absolutely marvelous. Lilith ordered it to be hung in the lobby

• “Not the bedroom?” You asked quietly, tilting your head up at her

• “As much as I’d love to, no. This needs to be seen by our guests! Besides, I have your darling face right there every morning.” She replied sweetly and kissed your cheek on her way out

• You were utterly floored when you saw a detailed third chair, right to Lucifer’s, in the throne room. Meetings were only held here once a month for the public to bring their qualms to the royals but they took a full day to bring to conclusion. Lucifer’s smile widened at your reaction

• “Do you like it?” He asked knowingly, “It’s for you.”

• “Me? I— yes! Yes, it’s lovely. I just don’t understand, I-I was alright standing.” You blink rapidly, your mind racing to catch up with his words

• “Don’t be silly, dove! These matters are a bore and take eternity. This was long overdue.” Lucifer takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, smiling at you apologetically

• Polygamy wasn’t something to clutch pearls over down here and you were never a dirty secret. Magazines, networks, media just happened to only feature the King and Queen of Hell (Later, Lucifer would always point out the blurry spec that was you behind them or to the side or cut off the page) So when you were yanked between them during their red carpet debut, you stared at the camera flashes like a deer in the headlights. Their grips on either of your hands kept you from floating too high

• While your view on the situation changed drastically, it wasn’t atonement enough for Lilith and Lucifer. They never wanted you to feel immaterial ever again

• “You’re not nothing to us,” Lucifer said, holding your left hand. He hid his face in the crook of your neck where you could feel him smiling against your skin

• “We would never abandon you,” Lilith whispered while slipping a matching golden band around your finger. She had you sitting in her lap, facing away from her. She held your hand up for you to see the new obvious, your next reminder of their devotion for you

• Suffocating on their love for you, you choked back a sob to not ruin the moment. Lilith wrapped her arms around you and Lucifer, bringing you both closer to her heart

[ere-the-sun-rises]

Batfam and the Lazarus Pit

This isn't my idea, and I honestly can't remember if @frownyalfred or @bruciemilf came up with this idea first, but it's been living in my head rent free and I need to get it out.

There are Lazarus Pits under Gotham, even contributing to why the city's so cursed. The Bats have each used a Lazarus Pit at least once (maybe not Spoiler and Signal, but I'm not sure). I'm fairly sure it's also canonical that the more you use it, the more prolonged the effects are and it kinda changes you incrementally but permanently.

Enter the Batfam, who train like crazy and are Olympian-level athletes all on their own, and using the Lazarus to help each other on death's door. (They don't tell each other when they do this, and they think it's never been done to them - except Jason, he can always tell - but they also don't share when they've done it to others.)

As time goes on, everyone gets older, stronger, more proficient at their jobs. Some take on younger teams, some proteges, some fly solo or stick around home. It's one of the OG Leaguers who points it out one day when they're having a civilian lunch - probably Ollie or Hal. In my head Bruce is one of, if not the youngest, OG Leaguers. So it's not crazy when Clark or Barry start to wrinkle around the eyes or get grey in their hair well before Bruce would. Bruce is also a public figure - he's got appearances to keep up.

But then ... Bruce is over 40 and his hair is still as black as it's ever been. His wrinkles are from his scowling and focus, only crinkling around the edges of his eyes and mouth a little bit. Idly, Hal wonders out loud if Bat's eyes have always been so dark, almost like coals. Barry notes that Bruce is way bigger than he used to be, that he bulges the suits he wears to galas with his size. Ollie, who's own beard is greying, bitterly points out that even Bruce's stubble is still black.

And suddenly, Bruce hits 50 and he's still thick-chested and dark-haired. The other Bats only seem to get more and more ... more. No non-meta can spar with them anymore unless they hold back and they seem to have endless stamina and pain tolerance. Clark and Diana think nothing of it, but the other fully human Leaguers start to wonder what's really going on. If maybe Bruce had lied to them. But J'onn swears that in their own minds, all of the Bats fully believe they're human. Aside from the suspicion, there's no reason to believe otherwise. They still bleed and scar, no matter how beautiful they seem to remain. No matter that Bruce keeps going and going and going even after others his age have been retired for years.

Fed up one day, Ollie asks him how he does it. Dermatologists? Botox? Just For Men? Bruce snorts and rolls his eyes. He smirks, "Good genes, I guess."

Bruce is nearly 70 when the grey creeps into his hair and his body starts to slow. His children are still active as ever, and when Tim takes up the Batman mantle, Bruce retires to train new heroes. One young hero complains that Bruce hits like one of the Amazons she trained with but he only responds that he's never stopped being the Bat even with tbe cowl off.

And then ... Leaguers start dying. Gradually, age takes them one by one and they's succeeded by the heroes they've mentored and the children who followed in their footsteps. Grey is starting to creep into Dick and Jason's hair, but they're still as vibrant and lively as ever.

It's only when it's just him left of humans of the original group that he actually considers why. If anyone should have died young, it should have been him. And yet, he's nearing 90 and not nearly as withered as some of them had been when they passed away. The vitality he's always attributed to his genetics and continued activity can't explain why all his children remain as beautiful and capable all their lives as he has. So one day, he gathers his wayward children down in the cave like they used to 50 years ago and asks them to be completely honest with him.

"Have any of you used the Lazarus Pit on anyone here without telling them or reporting it?"

The silence he's met with is deafening.

[sailornymph]

Hihi!!! I would like to request the uchihas as older brothers maybe?? How they would be towards their younger sibling and such,, I hope you get what I mean!! Thank you anyhow💓

“DEAR BROTHER”

the uchiha men as older brothers 

♡︎ madara uchiha 

— madara and izuna are both incredibly protective, but with madara being oldest, he’s worst

— you’re stronger than most girls your age, but still weaker than him, meaning you need protection

— he helps you with training and self defense for when he isn’t around

— he’s the type to give you pep talks about how you are capable of being the strongest among your age group, if you work for it

— when izuna dies, he becomes even more protective, you aren’t even allowed to leave the compound without shinobi with you

— hates the idea of you dating, but only because he doesn’t want you with someone who is completely useless

— your outcome could end up being one of the two possibilities: he fakes your death, along with his, taking you with him. or, you get the news that he has died, and you become the next clan leader because other than izuna, you were the next person thought to be worthy enough of the title

— 6/10. he isn’t the worst, but he is too power driven. he knows that he is the best and he wants his youngest sister to be just like him. knowing the strength he and his siblings have, no one will ever be good enough, because they’re all weak

“y/n,” madara called out, making you gasp, pushing hikaki away to run, however izuna was in front of him in a flash, grabbing him.

“izuna, let him go,” you pleaded.

“you’ve been missing all evening, had everyone worried, but you’ve been with this boy,” madara said, glaring at the boy.

“big brother, please,” you pouted.

“don’t look at her, you always give in,” madara said to izuna.

“is this boy uchiha?” izuna asked you, his eyes on the boy, struggling in his arms.

“exactly, he doesn’t look like a uchiha to me, what did i tell you about outsiders?”

“brother-

“what did i tell you?”

“they’re weaker,” you held you head down in defeat.

“it is the truth, how could i trust this imbecile to protect our precious baby sister, when he can’t protect himself from this,” he said, easily putting the boy into a genjutsu.

izuna let the boy go and suddenly he screamed in agony, dropping to his knees. rushing to his aid, you tried to help him, but he held the look of fear in his eyes.

“madara, izuna,” you whined.

“promise you will stop seeing this pathetic little thing,” madara said, the look of disgust on his face.

“i promise, just stop it,” you cried, relieved when hikaki relaxed.

“now your end of the deal,” he said, making you glare at him.

“don’t glare, if you put this much energy into training, you would be the strongest person i knew,” he said, watching as you stormed off.

“you better go easy on the words, or you’ll get the silent treatment again,” izuna said, leaving to catch up with you to apologize.

“silent treatment? y/n, you wouldn’t ignore your dear brother would you? i just want you with a strong uchiha,” he explained, his jaw dropping, realizing you hadn’t turned to him yet, and kept walking with izuna.

“y/n, as your oldest brother, i demand you stop this now,” he called out, trying to catch up with you.

♡︎ itachi uchiha 

— the most caring big brother, like the literal best

— he’s the oldest, while sasuke is the youngest, leaving you in the middle, but he is very attentive to you, so you never feel left out as the middle child

— you follow his footsteps of working for the anbu, and he requests that you be placed on his team. when his dangerous mission is brought up, a task that is too big of a burden for a child, he takes it anyway. you overhear everything waiting on him outside of the office. exiting, he looks at you, knowing that you most likely heard, and from your look alone, knows that you will leave with him

— he doesn’t want you to carry the burden, so he tells you, if you plan to leave with him, to wait outside of the compound, while if you want, you could stay with sasuke

— leaving with him means leaving your life as a shinobi behind because he will not allow you to join akatsuki with him, instead he implies that you are weak to tobi, how he hardly let you kill anyone on your missions, so that you seem uninteresting. instead, he helps you get a comfortable home and job to begin building your life someplace new

— he’s not over protective, he knows you can take care of yourself. however, he does not tolerate disrespect towards his baby sister

— visits in between missions, at first it was typical activities, bringing him dangos that you made before his arrival, telling him about your week, while he sulks. as his health declines, it usually involves you taking care of him to some degree

— despite getting sick, he tries to hide it and continue old activities, cooking, piggybacking, or reading

— leading up to his death, he suggests that you make your presence known to sasuke and at least act like he forced you to come along with him

— 8.5/10. even after everything he had to do, he tried to remain that same big brother as before the incident. even as he planned for his death, he wanted you and sasuke to reunite, even if it gave his baby brother a another reason to be mad at him

carefully sitting each dango stick on the plate, you felt a heavy weight on your chest. itachi usually came around this time. pouting, you felt your eyes watering, as you thought of your last conversation.

“i want you to do a favor for me”

“what is it?”

“go back to konoha, or at least that way, to run into sasuke”

“why-

“when you see him, i want you to tell him that i forced you to leave with me, that night,” he said, his head low. this became a regular position for him, since beginning to lose his sight.

“itachi”

“could you do that for your dear brother?”

“and what about you?”

“i knew what i signed up for,” is all he said, he said, laying his head on your shoulder.

it had been over two weeks, since receiving the news that he was now dead. the numbness was settling in, but your brain couldn’t seem to accept the truth. you still continued preparing your home, as if he would show up. your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on your door. you couldn’t believe part of you expected to see itachi, waiting with a small gift in his akatsuki cloak, as usual. however, what you didn’t expect to see was sasuke.

opening the door, you stared with widened eyes, unable to believe what you were seeing. he had grown so much taller.

“sasuk-

you were interrupted by him pulling you into his arms. you could feel the wetness on your shoulders from his tears.

“how did you find me?”

“tobi,” he said, making your eyes widened.

“you know the truth”

“even itachi’s plans for you,” he said.

“i couldn’t, you were already so angry with him, i couldn’t give you another reason to hate him, when he loved everyone so much,” you cried.

“i wish i could go back-

“don’t, itachi was at peace, he loved you so much, but he was sick and suffering and he can now rest,” you reassured him.

“and what about you? what was your reason for leaving?”

“after all of the things he had done, he needed someone there for him too, we knew you would have friends, we were always different from everyone, but you were always a likable boy, and we were right,” you lightly smiled, wiping your eyes.

“those are not my friends, they’re uh teammates, is that dango?” he asked, nervously.

“yes, would you like some? come, make yourself at home, tell me how life has been for you, baby brother,” you said, sitting the plate in front of him. maybe you could fulfill itachi’s dying wish.

♡︎ indra ōtsutsuki

— there is a 50/50 chance of how you’re treated, but either way it is toxic

— if you’re closer to asura then he will torment you, so steer clear of his path

— however, if you are closer to him, he will hold on to you, in his eyes, you’re the only person who sees his worth

— he’s practically yandere

— he’s protective, very protective, no one is worthy of your presence or attention, not even friends or family

— father wants you to train, well he will train you, he is the strongest anyway

— don’t even think of dating, everyone is beneath you both. he wouldn’t say it to your face, but he’ll beat them all in fights, he’ll scare them away, all you need is your big brother to love you anyway

— 3/10. he loves you so much, but if you're close to him, he will turn you against your family to side with him and your fate will be the same as his.

“indra, have you seen y/n?” the boy hesitantly backed away, being met with a glare.

“why?”

“i asked him to ask, no need to attack the child,” asura chuckled, patting the boy’s back, watching as he ran off.

“what do you want with y/n?”

“she is my baby sister too, you know,” asura smiled, but he was met with a straight face.

“i was hoping to talk to her, father wants to make sure her training is going well, and for me to-

“don't worry about her training, i will take care of it”

“how is she actually?”

“she hurt father, moving out without a word, and she hasn't said anything to him since,” he continued.

“i’ll bring it up,” indra mumbled, relieved when asura stopped following him, as he entered his home.

“big brother? welcome home,” you smiled, as he softly knocked at your door, letting himself in.

“what did you do today?” he asked, sitting next to you.

“i worked on the garden, it is finally coming together”

“that is great, no one tried talking to you, did they?”

“no, they always stay away, like something is wrong with me”

“nothing is wrong with you, it is them,” he reassured.

“we will start back your training tomorrow, father wants to see how much you’ve grown,” he continued, watching as you squealed excitedly.

“i can’t wait”

“would you ever leave here? i mean, you’re getting so much stronger, any plans for marriage or if your friend-

“oh my dear brother, i told you, i am on your side, through thick and thin,” you reached for his hand, smiling as he gave it a light squeeze.

“good”

♡︎ obito uchiha

— it was always just the two of you, even when your grandmother took you both in. when she passed away, it was just as it was before

— he becomes a shinobi, but wants you to live a normal life. everything is fine until you receive news that obito is dead

— for months, you’re grieving, kakashi stopping by, when he can, until one night obito returns. he’s here to take you away from this village. naturally you go with him, he’s all you have after all

— over the years, obito gets even stronger and you are suspicious of his line of work, but you don’t question it because he has never changed the way that he treated you

— he has always encouraged you to chase your dreams, despite being unable to fulfill his own. you want to open a small cafe, he is doing everything in his power to make that happen

— you find him very annoying as tobi. he explained partially why he had to wear a disguise, but you hated how he acted. so goofy and unserious, you preferred the very serious obito, you could come to about anything

— he’s very protective, he doesn’t want the world to hurt you, like it did to him

— please don’t date, you’re just a kid to him in his eyes. he will whine and nag about how you’re too young, no matter how old you get. he just wants you to be content being his baby sister, although, he knows it’s selfish

— 8.7/10.despite being the sibling of a criminal, he does a very good job at concealing that life from you, continuing to love you as hard as before. after his death, kakashi finds you personally explaining everything and how in the end, obito had a change of heart. which makes you smile because you always knew what kind of person he was on the inside

entering the small cafe, in a unusual disguise, his eyes widened, seeing itachi uchiha, sitting at a table, eating dango. he watched as you approached him with another small plate.

“hi sir, these are on the house”

“i couldn’t”

“i insist, you’re one of my regulars and i am appreciative,” you blushed as he thanked you, accepting the plate. walking back to the counter, you tried biting back your smile.

“have you decided what you want sir?” you asked, nodding as he shook his head. he stood waiting, watching as you blushed, repeatedly glancing at itachi. he was too old for you. well, he actually wasn’t, you were a few years older, but still.

hearing the chair pull out, you glanced over, bowing and thanking him for coming, before you went to get the plates. with the cafe now empty, he removed his disguise.

“obito?” you widened your eyes at him, as you walked to the small kitchen, as he followed you.

“you are attracted to that man”

“you make it sound like something weird. he’s nice and really cute. he looks like he could be a uchiha too,” you blushed, making him roll his eyes.

“he could be a mass murder for all you know, and why are you giving him free dango? you need all the money you can get,” he told you, crossing his arms.

“he likes dango, and he always leaves extra money. if you were upset about that dear brother, i can make you a batch of dango,” you began to walk away, when he reached for you arm.

“just wait until i am dead to date anyone, it stresses me out too much to know my baby sister is growing to longer be a baby any more, it hurts me,” he said, making you hug him.

“aww obito, i have no plans on dating right now, not when i have a business to run and i said he was cute, not that i wanted to marry him. also, i’ll always be your baby sister, no matter how old we get,” you said, smiling as his tense body relaxed at your words.

♡︎ sasuke uchiha

— probably the most normal out of the group

— itachi kills the clan and leaves the two of you alive

— despite his wild emotions, he tries his best to maintain normality with you. joking around, piggyback rides, making treats together

— younger sasuke is convinced you both are better than everyone else and when he’s free, he teaches you a few things he learned from kakashi

— early on, he kind of expects you to stay under his wing. kids are asking you to play with them, he’ll say let’s leave and kind of expects you to come with him. he can’t risk losing you too

— he is super protective, he doesn’t even like if someone implies something distasteful about you, however, it changes as he changes

— when he leaves the hidden leaf, he leaves you, telling you to let go, as you hold onto him, crying begging him to stay, or at least take you with him, he says no and reassures you that you can go to sakura or kakashi for anything

— while he may have had a problem with you having a crush as a child, by the time you are teenagers, he doesn’t care anymore because he has more important things to worry about

— once he is on his road to redemption, he feels guilty about how he was towards you. he was so focused on getting revenge, that he neglected his last relative alive

— 9/10. he has made mistakes in his life, but despite what he thinks, he has been a great brother. with a bit of reassurance, you can restore your bond

slipping on your shoes, just as you opened the door, you were surprised to see sasuke, his hand up about to knock.

“sasuke, when did you get back?” you said, as his shoulders relaxed.

“this morning, i was with sarada,” he explained.

“did you get to see her in action, she wants to be hokage, doesn’t that remind you of someone?” you smirked.

“yes,” he agreed.

“would you like to join me for lunch? i’m having onigiri,” you asked, as his cheeks reddened, shyly nodding his head.

“how-how have you been?” he asked, turning his head.

“i’m okay, i spend my weekends with sakura and sarada and my b-friend,” you stuttered, catching his attention.

“a friend from the academy?”

“no, he’s from another village,” you shook your head.

“he? how long have you been friends with him?”

“well, we’ve been together for about four months-

“together?”

“he's-he is my boyfriend, i wanted to let you meet him, to make sure he was sasuke approved, but i wasn't sure you'd want to do such a thing”

“i-i don't mind y/n, is my opinion important to you?”

“of course, it is, if my dear brother thinks he is terrible, then i have my answer because you're the coolest guy i know,” you said, lightly bumping his shoulder.

“then i will meet him,” he nodded.

“great, i'll tell him tomorrow, try not to scare him too much”

“how can he be the one, if he is scared easily?”

“you have a point, so will you eat some cake with him today,” you nearly laughed at the frown appearing on his face. he hated sweets.

“don't be gross”

[theinfiknight]

My favourite thing about the Pokemon universe is how incredibly accepting it is. Everyone has the freedom to stray however far from the norm and be however eccentric they like and it's absolutely 100% accepted over there. You want to spend all day wearing a cape and gloves and brandishing a whip? Go right ahead! You want to spend the majority of your time in darkness talking to the dead? Shit, head right up to the tower on route 209 and there are a ton of spirit mediums and hex maniacs with the same idea. You want to finish your highschool education despite being over fifty? Absolutely! There's a world famous Pokemon academy in Paldea that would be more than happy to have you! You can be the heir to a powerful clan of dragon masters and still choose to be a highschool arts teacher instead and that's absolutely alright.

One in five people is a student of the martial arts who spends all day in a gi training to get stronger, and another fifth of the population stand around in long sleeved outfits honing deadass psychic powers. Honest to gods ninjas are part of society, and it's not at all hard to find kids around training hard in their ways. Science is an exploding field and the people who conduct research are well respected and highly regarded. You can be absolutely anything, wear a godsdamned clown outfit and breathe fire on the streets for fun and no one will bat an eye.

A bunch of women in pink, flowery outfits spend their days inside of a giant dollhouse taking the places of toy dolls in toy rooms, and this arrangement is approved of by the official Pokemon league just as their leader is a respected gym leader. The Eiffel tower was designed and is maintained by a fifteen something year old boy. A large portion of the population of gym leaders, trainers who are acknowledged by the pokemon league as capable of testing others, are children under the age of 16, with a smaller number being adults over the age of 60. A member of the Paldean elite four is six years old. Capability matters far more than age in this world. Kids are taken seriously and given positions that befit their accomplishments.

Respected and looked up to members of the community go around in white fairy outfits with wings, or nothing but swim trunks, or wearing wooden masks, or Hawaiian shirts, or that gay little number Wallace wears in oras, and they're still beloved and admired by the population regardless of their quirks, and more often because of them.

The most famous, most badass rap artist in the pokemon world is a lady in possibly her seventies. The founder of the Alolan Pokemon League is a pro wrestler in his free time. The most powerful Pokemon trainer in the Hoenn region spends his time collecting rocks.

There are absolutely no requirements there other than be kind and considerate to others, and don't be an ass, and I can only hope that our society can reach that point someday.

[adashoflavendermelancholy]

Bruises and bad habits

Whitebeard loved all his children. He liked hearing about them. Watching them make progress in the things they loved to do. Weather that was getting stronger or completing a project they wanted to do. It was all he could do not to just cheer them on every day.

Ace was his newest son and the most troublesome. His favorite kind of child. The ones that could hardly be handled they were too wild. They always made life interesting and fun. Ace also reminded the older man of a few past friends that he used to have. Ones that never listened and always did what they wanted. Ace listened a littler better than the boy’s biological father but that meant very little to Whitebeard. After all Ace is his son now and nothing would change that.

Ace lived up to that chaos too. Especially when sparing with the others. Pops knew that it would make others stronger too. Ace always went all out. Only holding back enough not to kill anyone. No matter how the fight progressed. It was a little worrying at first.

A sibling was charging forward, when Ace used his flames. Making the other jump back, his sleeve on fire. Everyone was moving before they could stop. Trying to put out the fire. The sibling yelling out. Until they noticed that his fire wouldn’t burn them. Ace stared at everyone with large eyes. Just watching them. “It doesn’t hurt?” The sibling with fire on their sleeve said. They reached out to touch it.

“Don’t do that.” Ace said, “It’s not burning you but the heat might still hurt.”

Marco stared jaw a gape, as Thatch threw an arm around him. “Wow, already knows you’re trick. Ace is gonna beat you with fire manipulation.”

“How long did you say you’ve had you’re devil fruit?” Marco asked, thinking of how long it too him to learn this little trick. His fire wasn’t even used for burning. But he had to be careful when he was younger. Just because the default setting didn’t burn didn’t mean it wasn’t capable of doing so. Marco had burned a few things from losing control his his emotions.

Ace turned around to smile at them. “Just over a year.” That wasn’t enough time to learn this. Just what was Ace doing to gain such control over his powers?

Ace of course, would never tell them how he learn it. Just saying that he ‘just did.’ And leaving it at that. How he managed to train his fruit so quickly in the time he said he had it, they wouldn’t know. Not that Marco wasn’t dying to know how. He would just have to bother Ace about it later.

Later Ace would explain again that he didn’t do anything all that strange. He just had to get off the island, but maintain the heat and power of his fire. That was all the training he did. When Marco tried to use the striker after that be got it. Just that kind of control with a very flammable person behind you was enough to learn control.

If the fire wasn’t a problem it was the way that Ace seemed to always be able to find the weak point in others was. Ace moved about like he owned the place. His steps bouncing off the mast or off the railing. Almost as if he grew up on a ship. Every move was calculated. Chosen to get Ace as closer to his target as possible. Without over shooting what he wanted.

Now that pops could see the boy from an outside perspective, it was easy to see why he won against Jimbe. Why the world government wanted him to be a war lord next, rather than a pirate. Fighting him would be a pain to do all the time. The boy was always improving. When he gets knocked away he’s already got a new idea at how to attack. Not afraid to go again until he doesn’t get hit.

There was a problem with this. It was that the boy would get hurt. There wasn’t a time that Ace didn’t have some kind of bruise on him form one or more of their crew. It was better than when he was trying to kill, their captain but still. If that was all they could learn to deal with it. Ace would get better soon and he wouldn’t get hurt as much.

But when he got hurt the boy would up and disappear on them. Making Marco, the nurses, and Deuce run around looking for him. He was never in the same place either. Sometimes he would be hiding in a storage room. Other times he was hiding on or in the sails. It was all just a guessing game. It didn’t help that Ace being hurt was the only time the boy could hide better than any haki user. Well except for one. One that wasn’t quite willing to help them. After all his son wanted to hide away from all the poking that he himself hated. What kind of father would force him to deal with that, unless if was life and death. Ace was fine. The boy always bounced back. So Pops didn’t mind him hiding in his shadow, or under his coat. As long as he could keep track of the boy himself, it was fine.

It helped that Ace’s viver card wasn’t burning away to nothing. Meaning there was no reason to fear that he was going to die.

“ACE! YOU BRAT!” Marco yelled, frustrated that the boy had once again gotten away. If this kept up they weren’t going to let him spar with anyone but Marco. It was getting so annoying trying to hunt the boy down.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

The Middle & What's In Between

Elks Chapter 3 Version 2.0

Chapter Rating: T. (Nothing explicit for the first few chapters.) Chapter Summary: You complete your mural for Joel as your feelings for him grow even stronger, and he might just feel the same way for you. Chapter Warnings: mention of child loss, first kiss, joel being ridiculously soft and touching your cheek a lot, spilled paint water (my enemy), cursive and brand new cd mentions (i'm writing what i know folks), like, zero drama at all, i'm sorry i'm so adverse to writing angst when it comes to jackson joel. Words: 3,700 Header courtesy of @saradika-graphics

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist Playlist

“The Recluse” by Cursive. 

The rain still falls on Friday, puddles grow in size and make everyone’s shoes soaked. Your students are grumpy with the canceled patrol training, and your own patience quickly dissipates due to the anticipation of going back to Joel’s house. 

You ring your bell to signal the end of the day. Your students are quick to all file out of the room–all except for Ellie, who lingers. 

“Saw what you’re doing at Joel’s,” she says, a small smile tugging at her upper lip, “I like it a lot.”

“Thanks. I figured I’d run into you while I was there. Where’ve you been?”

“I’ve been hanging in the garage. Joel ‘n I just got it all set up for me. Thought I’d give you and him some time alone.” 

“...Time alone?” 

“Yup. You know, alooooone time.” 

“Ellie. Come on now. Stop. I’m painting a freakin’ mural for him.”

“Okay, Teach, whatever you say,” she grins mischievously. “I see him looking at you all the time. He has big eyes, I don’t think he realizes I know exactly where he’s looking. I think he likes yoooou.” 

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Nope! I’m leaving you two alone. I’ll see you Monday!” Ellie winks from the doorway.

You shake your head as she leaves, you’ve never met a kid like her.

After laying out your library supplies for the morning and locking up the school, you hurry home to drop off your bag. You change into your painting clothes, eat one of your homemade granola bars, and pick up the gift you’ve grabbed for Joel. With a goodbye pet and nuzzle for your cats, you turn your lamp on and close the door behind you, stepping into the chilly, soaked spring evening. The short walk to Joel’s feels longer under the pouring rain.

For the third time in a week, you’re outside of Joel’s house wearing your same paint-splattered overalls. You return his smile when Joel opens the door with a dish towel in his hands.

“Come on in,” he says, drying his hands. You’ve become entranced by the sight of someone like him–capable and rough around the edges–do something so domestic. The same hands that wash dishes, cook dinner, and adjust couch pillows have also held weapons and taken lives. His voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “Hope the rain didn’t make it too bad gettin’ here.”

“Oh, it was fine,” you say, wiping your feet on his doormat and closing your umbrella. “Nothing was as bad as dealing with the kids today, they hate canceled training days.”

“M’sure of that,” Joel says, glancing down at the two umbrellas in your hand.

You hold one out to him. “So, I had a spare umbrella in my house, and was saving it for a– rainy day. I want you to have it so you don’t have to walk in the rain when you walk me–or someone else home.” 

“Mmhmm,” Joel nods and chuckles. “Only people I’ve walked home are you ’n technically Ellie to the garage. One time Tommy when he had a little too much to drink.”

“Well, it’ll do you more use than sitting in my closet.” 

“Thanks. Real sweet of you.” His eyes stay on yours for a moment. You’d give him a hundred umbrellas just to keep him looking at you this way. 

“I should start, should be done with everything tonight,” you huff out, while trying to calm your nerves.

“Course,” he steps aside to let you move into the room. Your brushes and paints are exactly where you left them the night before, but a new addition catches your eye.

Your breath hitches. “You moved your stereo in here?” 

“I did,” he says, stepping beside you. “Thought you’d like to pick whatever CD you want without havin’ to leave the room. It’ll be louder in here. Your book’s right next to it for you.”

“Joel… this is so sweet,” you gasp out while your fingers absentmindedly rub the daisy pendant around your neck. “You moved everything, this had to have taken a long time.”

“Was no problem,” he shrugs, “I wanted to do something nice for ya.”

“You’ve already done so much Joel,” you say softly.

“It’s been real nice havin’ you around,” his voice makes your heart race. “It’s bee–I like having your company in the evenings.”

“I’ve enjoyed being here too,” you reply with a smile, barely able to hear your own voice over the thudding in your chest.

He lingers for a moment before clearing his throat. “Alright then, I’m gonna let you get started. Put on some music, let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in the dining room working.”

You nod, grateful for the moment to compose yourself as you pick up your CD book.

“And now we proudly present Songs perverse and songs of lament A couple hymns of confession And songs that recognize our sick obsessions So sing along I’m the ugly organ!”

It feels like twenty years ago. You paint as you play one of your favorite albums, The Ugly Organ. It still works, one of the few small miracles in the apocalypse. You pick it because you think Joel might just like it. 

Your mind drifts to a web of familiar thoughts as you paint…

There are so many things everyone lives without now:  traffic reports, amusement parks, cell phones, hot dogs, airplanes. Inconsequential things missed. Major life moments missed. You never got your driver's license. You never got to go to your first school dance with James, your cute friend who definitely had a crush on you too. You never got to go to Disney World. 

You learned fairly quickly that your survival was dependent on how much you could sacrifice and live without. Especially in the QZ, where bright colors disappeared under layers of dust and decay, once shiny metal rusting away. Three meals a day replaced by a morsel of food here and there to keep your stomach from growling. Freedom of choice becoming nonexistent.

But art? You still had art. You were lucky to have your three art notebooks and box of colored pencils. Those pencils whittled down by years and years of use. When the pages of your books filled up, you turned to your walls. Your ration cards were bartered for anything you could use to draw with whenever you could afford it. Your notebooks held your fantasy of a normal life:  a takeout coffee cup with a croissant on a plate next to a folded up newspaper, a Christmas tree adorned with ornaments and garland, a brick house with urns full of flowers by the front door, a bowl of macaroni and cheese. 

Then, Jackson. Jackson brought you color, Jackson brought you music, Jackson brought you a place to feel like you had a home. Jackson brought you your close circle of friends, Jackson brought you your belief in civility, and yourself, back. And Jackson gave you Joel. The thought of him sends a chill up your spine as you realize how special he’s become to you, more than just a crush… now a friend. 

The CD ends, after the rousing ten-minute-long final song. The lead singer repeats “the worst is over” along with a grand choir. The words resonate with you, you’re safe and happy here in Jackson. Life feels full… especially now as you’ve found some sort of companionship with Joel. 

You step back and admire the mural. Flowers begin to bloom across Joel’s wall. The water held in your paint jar turns just as violet as the bluebells across the wall. Your sense of pride in your art grows along with each painted bluebell. 

You pick up your CD book and flip through the pages, choosing the last CD you bought before that fateful fall day in 2003. Black birds fly across the reflective silver disc. You slide it into the stereo and hit play before picking up your brush. 

“I’m sinking like a stone in the sea, I’m burning like a bridge for your body”

The week before the world ended, you scheduled your drivers license test. Monday, September 29 at 4 PM. You were so close to freedom. You had already warned your favorite teacher that you’d have to leave art club early, and your mom requested off to take you in. You had practiced and studied, you were confident you’d pass. 

You glance towards the doorway, where you can faintly hear Joel working in the dining room. What was his life like back then? What did he drive? What kind of responsibilities did he have?  You know he was a contractor. What reason would he have to leave work early? 

You ponder about Joel's life before the outbreak as you paint each petal, getting lost in mixing the perfect indigo hues for each bell.

The final song plays, the singer croons over his acoustic guitar. He sings a story about a shipwreck, about death, about love. It’s your favorite, you never got to learn it on guitar. 

“What they call love is a risk, You'll always get hit, Out of nowhere, By some wave and end up on your own”

You finish the last few bluebells in complete silence save for the random hammer knocks coming from Joel in the other room.

You dip your brush in your jar of water and step back. Long green stems sprout from the baseboard, green wispy stalks shooting out embellished with bells of all different hues of lavender and indigo. You’re proud of what you’ve created for Joel, you hope he loves it. 

“Joel,” you call softly, peeking your head out of the doorway down the hall, “it’s done.”

You hear the scrape of the chair against the hardwood floor. Your heart begins to hammer against your chest as you hear his steps get closer. You’re nervous, so unbelievably nervous. You want him to like it, you’ve never done this for someone else. Nobody has ever asked you to share your creation with them in such a large size. Your art now takes up a piece of his home now, that feels monumental. 

You stand in front of the mural, staring forward at the mural as you hear him enter the room. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. You wait, feeling your heart thump against your chest as he stands behind you. Then, a sharp inhale from him.

“Wow…” he exhales. You can hardly hear him. “This is beautiful… thank you.” 

You want to smile and turn to him, be more present in the moment, but instead you feel like you don’t belong here. The vulnerability of this moment along with the feelings you have for him overwhelms you.

You nod, swallowing hard, still focusing on the wall. “I’m glad you like it,” you manage to say, your voice quiet and shy. 

“I… had a daughter before …everything. Name was Sarah,” the tenderness in his voice almost breaks you as you hear his revelation, “used t’call her my bluebell.”

Everything inside of you sinks at his admission. Sarah. You try to offer some sort of comfort, but everything feels inadequate. All you can do is apologize. “Joel… I’m sorry, so sorr—“

“I know you are,” he cuts you off gently. “I don’t need to hear that, please.”

He steps closer towards you, his front brushes against your back. “Seeing these flowers here… it means a lot.”

“I’m glad, I’m so glad,” a heartbroken whisper escapes your lips. 

“Thank you,” one of his calloused, large hands lands on your shoulder. Skin meeting skin where your tank top and overalls don’t cover. 

“You’re welcome, I feel honored to do this for you… and her.” You swallow down the sadness in your voice. Everyone’s lost so much, it’s an unspoken understanding for everyone who has survived.

“You’re so talented, this is gorgeous sweetheart. Y’sweet, so sweet,” Joel whispers as he turns you to face him. He grabs your hand, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. “The way you’ve come into here, making it more beautiful with your art, your music, ’n your laughter. You’re so soft and pure, don’t know how someone like you still exists.”

“Joel,” you exhale at his confession. Your skin tingles all over, your body begins to warm. His sweet words shush the sadness held within you. 

His hand lifts to your chin, tilting your face up towards him. “So sweet,” he says again, his eyes roam around your face. Your lips part instinctively, his eyes drop to them. He slowly leans in, his forehead rests against yours, his warm breath fans across your skin. “Wanted to kiss ya’ the day I saw your classroom. The mural on the wall… you make everything around you more beautiful.” 

You breathe in his words with every inhale, words you could only dream of somebody telling you. His hand lets go of yours and moves to your back drawing you closer against his body. The tip of his nose nudges against yours. His lips meet your lips–softly, slowly, deliberately. He’s so gentle with you, overwhelming you. The tenderness of his touch and of his care, it’s not something you’ve ever felt. He makes you feel warm, he makes you feel safe. 

You melt under his touch, your body becoming pliant as his strong arm wraps around your waist. His large hand rests on your hip, fingers tracing the fabric of your overalls. You’re a grown woman and he makes you feel so small and juvenile, kissing your crush in your paint stained overalls after a day at school. 

The kiss turns hungrier, breaths quickening, tongues tasting tongues, the casualness and comfortability of the past few days turning into fevered kisses. You snake your hands up his chest to wrap around his neck, threading your fingers through his wavy hair. He pulls you even closer, your body now smashed against his. Joel lets out a guttural groan that vibrates against your lips as he lifts you and moves the two of you back towards his work bench.

A loud CLANG interrupts everything. You both blink, breathless, and look down to see the jar of paint knocked over, indigo tinted water spreading across the floor.

“Goddamnit,” Joel utters as he sets you back down on the floor, his chest rises and falls with deep breaths. “Knocked over the paint water.”

“I’m sorry, I’m usually careful about where I place that.” 

“S’okay, I’ll go get a towel,” he says, already walking out of the room.

You use your small paint rag to pathetically mop up a small bit of water, still trying to catch your breath from what just happened. 

Were you really just kissing Joel Miller? Did Joel Miller want to kiss you? He did. He definitely kissed you, and you kissed him back. He even said he wanted to kiss you before. He called you sweet. Are you dreaming? The man you’ve written songs about, the man you’ve watched from the corner of the bar, the man you’ve thought about every day since the first time you first saw him. That man you just kissed you.

“Guess we lucked out it didn’t break.” Joel interrupts your inner dialogue as he kneels down and places the towel over the stain.

“Sorry again,” you apologize. 

“Don’t worry yourself, it’s cleaned up just fine, I’ve done much worse to these floors with stain and dirt.” He stands, offering his hand and you take it. You rise with a smile, he doesn’t let go of your hand, his palm covers yours. “See? Back to brand new.” 

He’s so reassuring and so tender, now you know why–Joel Miller has known love before. 

“Was hoping my favor to you would be done but it’s not. Come on.” 

He doesn’t drop your hand as he leads you down the hallway into the dining room. On the table lies a guitar surrounded by tools. “Should be done tomorrow, there’s a fret that’s giving me a helluva time, but other than that it’s all fixed.” 

Your eyes widen at the sight. Music. “Joel… I—I can’t believe this.” You beam at him. “Thank you.” 

“Course sweetheart,” he raises his hand to your cheek to touch you again. “It’s nothin’, wanted you to have your music back.” 

Your fingers brush over the hard wood of the body, you note a rough patch from a hole that Joel filled in. The guitar is so worn and rugged but also so soft and polished. It’s beautiful. 

Joel’s kind action surrounds your heart and plants a thought in your brain quickly realizing everything that you’ve done with him the past few days. Does Joel really like you the way you like him? It feels impossible. How would someone like him like someone like you? He’s strong and capable, you’re just a lone woman who likes to paint pretty pictures of animals and talk to her cats for entertainment. You know many of the rumors you’ve heard about big, bad Joel Miller are true. What’s this man doing using his time to make something nice for you? 

“Joel, this is–wow–so much. Are you sure?”

He nods, his eyes steady on yours. “M’sure, I’m happy to do it, it really wasn’t difficult, ’n like I said, I just have to fix the last fret and it’ll be good.”

“Thank you, again, I can’t believe this.” 

“Believe it,” he says softly, his hand lingering on you cheek before letting it fall.

It’s so much, everything that has gone on between the two of you begins to overwhelm you–making you even more tired than you realize. You hide a yawn behind your forearm, blinking your tired eyes a couple of times. “Sorry,” you yawn again, “I always get tired on Friday evenings.”

He watches you, a look of affection in his eyes. “S’alright. I know you’re tired ’n have an early morning tomorrow.”

“I do…” as much as you hate to admit it, you should get home. You don’t want to. The affection, the kiss, the look in Joel’s eyes when he looks at you. You really like being here. You don’t know if you’ll get another chance. 

“I’ll walk you home, sweetheart. You have a lot to take.” 

There it is again. Sweetheart. Three times now, he’s called you that.

“I’m going to get all of my stuff packed up.” 

“Sure, I’ll help you,” he says, following you back into his studio. 

You start gathering your paints into your cardboard box, while Joel gingerly takes your CD out of the player, his movements measured as if he knows how much the disc means to you. Another sign of Joel’s ability to care that makes you fall deeper for him. 

“You know… like I said last night… you can come over any time and use my stereo,” he says, placing a hand on his neck and rubbing it back and forth.

He actually looks nervous as he extends his offer to you, making your heart skip a beat.

“I… yeah, that sounds really nice.” 

Joel picks up your box full of paint off of his work table, his eyebrows furrowing critically at the sight of the worn cardboard. “This box is on its last straw, you know that, right?”

“I do, I just… don’t really have anything else big enough to fit everything that I can easily carry.”

“Hmm,” he grunts disapprovingly, as if he truly does care about the inanimate objects that belong to you. 

“I hardly have to take it places, so it’s not that terrible,” you offer.

“Still deserve better than that,” he says under his breath tucking the box under his arm. 

Joel opens his door before grabbing his new umbrella. “No need to use yours, this’ll work for both of us.” 

“We’ve shared one before,” you smile.

Your comment grants a chuckle from Joel. You love hearing his laugh. “Come on, let’s get you home.” 

The rain is light now–almost more of a mist–there’s no reason for an umbrella, but neither of you acknowledge or mention it. You like being under it with Joel, you like feeling the way your bodies brush against each other. You like how he angles it to fully cover you, leaving his large frame half open to the elements. 

As your home comes into view, you start to feel a pang of sadness. You don’t want this walk to end. You’ve never felt like this with anybody before. The instant comfortability of him, the way you can make him laugh, and the way he watches you, as if he can’t take his eyes off of you. 

Joel places the box of paints down on your porch table. “You home tomorrow night?” 

“Yeah. Just have the library, but I’m usually back here by the late afternoon.”

“S’alright if I come by and drop your guitar off in the evening?”

“Yes, of course it is,” your voice squeaks a little too high with excitement. 

He smiles, stepping closer, his broad frame towering over you, blocking the soft glow of the porch light. “Alright sweetheart, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” his voice low, eyes locked on your lips.

Your back presses against the door, your heart pounding against your chest as he leans in. “Yes, tomorrow,” you manage to whisper out.

“Thank you for your beautiful gift,” he says softly, his breath warm against your skin. “I‘m gonna go sit in my chair, and look at it.”

“You’re welcome,” another whisper even quieter than the one before.

Joel leans in closer, angling his head down to place a quick soft kiss against your lips, you barely have a chance to savor it before he’s pulling away. 

He cups your cheek again. “G’night sweetheart,” his low voice makes your knees weak, thankful for he front door against your back. You watch as he turns and walks away, this time he doesn’t look back.

The Middle & What's In Between - Joel's Version

[a-twistedheartslonging]

The more i think about the more i realize that a lot of the wonderland humans (even the yuu's honestly) are just tough as fuck???

We got Jamil, trained body guard and who's able to deal with poisons and assassins plus his magic

We got silver who's a knight in training and he is stronger than sebek and keeps up with sebek (something sebek complains about a lot and it results in a friendly rivalry)

Deuce also regularly beefs with some and runs off some beastman from Savannaclaw

Yuuka (fem yuu from savannaclaw manga) can spar with Jack, beats up several savannaclaw beastman (this results in Leona stepping in and wiping the floor with her and telling her to get up and go again) and does regular workouts in her spare time around the dorm

Yuuken doesn't normally deck people but is very much able to

Game Canon yuu can take a flying gold metal discus to the skull and get up after a quick nap plus all the times they get thrown around or literally attacked (they're canonically androgynous and use they/them and are referred to as they/them especially in jp, whether they are afab or amab is unknown and likely won't be known in game though they don't really get noticed as especially feminine unlike Epel or even Vil though they do get described as looking a bit frail and effeminate mostly in ways like with Riddle or Lilia)

Kalim has survived multiple attempts on his life and kidnappings.

I think the only ones that are relatively normal in terms of strength are Riddle, Trey, Cater and Ace though Riddle, Trey and Cater have tons of magical prowess so there's also that.

Vil is strong enough to bodily throw some of beastfolk in beanfest and He is very capable of decking most in strength and magic

Rook is the menace that gives everyone stress. he's a wonderful guy and sweet but there's a reason the Leech twins and Leona would rather leave the room than deal with him head on. Even in beanfest, he was able to make Leona and Malleus actually do more than what they're used to and they actually teamed up if i recall (ortho noted that they actually used more power output in comparison to the usual measurements)

A lot of the wonderland humans are surprisingly powerful tbh

I was gonna say it prob has to do when magic adding to human evolution but then I remembered the part you said about lady and cannon Yuu.

These people are just built different.

I would not be able to handle any of that, I'm impressed.

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Hi lovely! Can I request a Lady Jessica x reader fic? Where reader is her Fremen bodyguard and due to a hard past is cold and distant with everyone, but eventually the reader and Jessica become close and help each other soften? That’s my initial thought but anything along those lines is fine, I’m living off of Jessica crumbs over here 💀

Ya Qamar

Reverend Mother Jessica x Fem! Fremen Caretaker Reader

Summary: A soft interlude of broken barriers, a gentle snippet of hope.

Warnings: Threat of heatstroke (bbg is ok)

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Hello Anon, I regret to say I went one direction with this fic and ended up at another? Safe to say it's less body guard, more attendant/ lady in waiting vibes. Chakobsa words are either from the Dune thesauras or translations of Arabic spelled with English characters. (I'm sorry if I screwed it up, I can't read Arabic characters).

Sand worked its way into everything, even inside the palaquin Jessica rode in across the wide expanse of spice-dust desert. The cool air was nice, and it managed to dry the sweat inside Jessica’s priestess robes. The swell of her baby was becoming prominent, becoming noticeable. She didn’t know if she approved of it. There was nothing to do on this long journey. Nothing to do but watch, to rest her palm over the pulsing, stubborn life that clung to Jessica’s strength for her own development. Alia, the mind within Jessica’s womb, the mind both disconcerting and… Hers. Jessica looked outside her palaquin, making out the shape of her companion, the assigned attendant Jessica had been more or less assigned to in the absence of a husband.

Pregnancy was not a private matter in the Fremen culture, it was a group effort. And the woman they’d chosen for Jessica was as invested in that ideology as the rest. Jessica turned, shutting her eyes, trying to make peace with this time alone, encased in a small structure on the back of a worm. But she wasn’t alone.

“Reverend Mother, we are almost there.” the woman spoke. “You should take water when we get there. And rest.”

Jessica nodded. Somehow, by some terrible twist of fate, this individual assigned for Jessica’s pregnancy had more say over Jessica’s personal time than she did. Anger, a bit of frustration threatened to boil through, but she took a deep breath. 

“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings about total obliteration…” Jessica recited, both of her hands pressed over her belly, searching for support.

←→

The foreign woman was strong. Stronger than you’d have ever considered an out-worlder to be. She was trained, a priestess capable of many strange feats, but she was human. As you guided her into the chambers she would make her home, you knew that she was human. Her breathing was labored, and she limped slightly. There was no husband for her, no family to tend to the needs of a woman so filled with life, with burden. Paul Atreides fought for the Fremen, and this Reverend Mother Jessica fought the spiritual battle. 

“You are limping, take my arm.” you said, tone sterner than you meant it to be.

Jessica turned, staring at you with her blue-within-blue eyes, expression dismissive.

“I can walk on my own.” she retorted, continuing with more determination, but less convincing gait.

The stillsuit you were clung grotesquely to you in this new sietch. You wished to be rid of it, but first you must rid your ammun-zowjatu of her clothes. She continued to stubbornly limp, and so you stepped forwards, wrapping an arm around her midsection. Jessica flinched, glaring down at you with insistent outrage.

“I did not give you permission to touch me.” she snapped, making a move to pull away.

“Ya!” you scoffed, glaring her down. “You speak nonsense because you have felt the khadir. You will come with me, and I will tend to you as I have been assigned to do.”

Jessica refused to budge, her feet staying rooted to the spot as she remained still, a large stone with its belly in the ground.

“I am your Reverend Mother, you obey me, hal tufhamunee?” Jessica spat, gripping your wrist in turn.

She was violently flushed in the face, upset with both you, and fatigued by the journey. She continued to breathe heavily, though she had been stationary for some time. There was a battle between her, between her mumarriza-zowjatu that stared at her with those stern eyes of Ibad. She was young, trained to be a Sayyadina, born to be a fighter. She had taken an oath to Jessica, that they would live together and be one as Jessica was in need of assistance during her pregnancy. Jessica had done it for the culture, for the understanding that having a partner, whether officially pledged in marriage or pledged in duty was necessary to maintain her status as a pregnant woman. 

“You are panting from the heat. I will not be scolded for not assisting my imra’tu when she is in need of another’s assistance.” you stubbornly insisted once again holding out your arm.

Jessica didn’t want to give in, this was a battle she needed to win. And then her vision began to spot.

“Ai!’ you groaned, wrapping your arms around Jessica and supporting her. 

It was only a few more steps to the yali Jessica had been promised, and yet you feared you wouldn’t get that far. The curtains were thick, difficult to press through, but once you made it inside, you were safe. Jessica was panting, gasping for air, face dry, though she appeared to be sweating from her flush. Upon an unmade bedroll you placed her, pulling off her head dress, her outer robes, and then her inner ones too. Her nakedness did not concern you, to be naked was common enough in Fremen sietches, especially one’s own yali.

“Let me go… No… I don’t need help.” Jessica croaked weakly.

“Al-lubb ay ma yawi ma yadi.” you spoke softly, quoting a Fremen proverb to soothe her. 

Once she was naked, you produced a small flask of water, bringing it to her lips. There was no such thing as wasting water on Jessica, she was vital. And she was yours to fret over. The rate at which Jessica sucked the water down was astonishing, and worrisome. You brought out another water ring, letting her drain it as well.

“More.” she gasped.

“No. We must wait.” you replied softly, grabbing a small fan and turning it on.

The circulating air soothed her, cooling her overheating body. Lying on the back wasn’t good for a pregnant woman like Jessica, so once she seemed improved, you sat her up, resting her against your front.

“I do not want to undermine your authority, ya qamar.” you spoke softly, letting her lean against you.

Jessica breathed in and out softly, letting the wind from the fan cool her skin. She was breathing regularly now, both hands resting on her belly. She felt exposed in her nakedness, unnerved by the presence of another so intimate with her. But this was the Fremen way. And it was the Fremen way to be concerned for your partner. 

“Moonflower? An odd pet name.” Jessica mused. “There are few flowers here.”

You chuckled, letting Jessica dodge away from your gentle words, your slip of intimacy.

“You are cruel. I am waiting for your baby, she will appreciate it when I call her ‘ya Helwa’. You, not so much.” 

Jessica smiled softly, a hand falling onto her belly. She felt the soft tumbles of a happy baby, the soft patter of feet. Alia loved being with her nurse-mother. Jessica knew that the child slept better when you were near, either out of instinct or stubborn favoritism. Alia didn’t express her ideas with words, not as often as Jessica had thought. She had secrets, quiet thoughts Jessica did not hear.

“She is better. I was worried she was distressed when I got too warm, her heart was so fast…” Jessica admitted, voice cracking a little.

You nodded, remaining still as Jessica held her belly. There was a grief in Jessica, one she continued to carry around, even as the joy of her child’s birth approached.

“Why are you so quiet, your breaths are unnatural.” you spoke against her bare shoulder, staring at the freckles that dotted her skin.

Jessica took in a shuddering breath, struggling through the silence for a moment longer.

“... I’m a bad mother.” she admitted, voice trembling. “I… She hurts because of me, the spice agony… I’ve hurt her. And I keep hurting her.” 

Jessica’s hands fisted into balls at her sides. You feared her nails might cut her hands, that she would hurt, and so you took them into yours.

“No, no. Bad mothers do not care. Bad mothers do not have children because their children are dead. Your baby is healthy, and strong, and you are strong too.” 

Guiding Jessica’s hands back down to her belly, you placed her palms flat against the stretched skin of her belly. She breathed steadier now, though she was still fighting tears.

“Ya qamar… Moonflower.”

“Yes, the wise flower that spreads its petals only when the time is right, when it's good. Beautiful, used for weddings.” you spoke softly, thumbs stroking over the bones of her fingers.

“You are ya sanadi.” she murmured, leaning further against you. 

The room was cooler now, Jessica was cooler. Her eyes shut, and she leaned. My backbone, she’d said. 

“Hayati.” you whispered back, soft enough that she barely stirred. 

But a soft kick responded.

Glossary (Arabic):

Ammun- Mother

Zowjatu- Wife

Khadir- Hot wind

Imra'tu- Woman

Hal tufhamunee- Do you understand me?

Mumarriza- Nurse

Ya (q)amar- Moon/moonflower

Ya Helwa- Sweet one

Ya sanadi- Backbone

Hayati- My life

Fremen:

Ya!- You listen here!

Ai!- Interjection of frustration

Al-lubb ay ma yawi ma yadi- Wolves do not cause harm in their own dens.

Tag List: @ilovehotactresses @marvelwomenrule @midnight-lestrange @bjoerkumlaut, @lovelyy-moonlight, @coffee-is-my-oxygen, @appparadox407

Send me a message if you'd like to be added!

[bleue-flora]

For absolutely no reason whatsoever, I feel like we should talk about Limbo. Because it’s a interesting topic with lots of space for theories and perhaps this will help us come back to some common ground of discussion, and be an open enough topic to allow everyone, whether someone who just joined the fandom or has been here for years, to hopefully feel safe and welcome enough to join in and share their thoughts and opinions. Go ahead and use the tag #dsmp limbo so I can see your thoughts, there is no right or wrong answer here.

To start off the discussion, we know the time dilation based on what Wilbur has said is about 30/1 - meaning every 1 second is 30 seconds in limbo, every 2 minutes is 1 hour in limbo, every 48 minutes is 1 day in limbo, every 1 day is a about 1 month in limbo and so on just to give you perspective. We also know based on both what happens in the finale and by what Dream says in the finale, that Limbo changes based on how you die and the circumstances around your death.

Now here are my thoughts at the moment on the matter. While a lot of times I see Limbo in fanfics more personalized to the person killed, one theory I came up with to explain Limbo is that it is actually is more connected to the situation around the death and killer/death.

For example, Schlatt died of a stroke and his limbo then becomes a gym, themeing off the fact of becoming healthy and fit something he wasn’t in life. That lead to his nation being taken over and him not being physically capable to stop it as well as him dying to a stroke, which we are encouraged to believe is caused by his alcoholism.

But I feel like perhaps Schlatt’s is the easiest to connect, Wilbur’s on the other hand is a little weirder. But I think the train station is actually connected to Philza having just arrived, so the relation to travel. Trains are often kept on a schedule to be on time and Philza’s appearance is just in time to kill Wilbur, but too late to stop him from pushing the button.

Mexican Dream’s limbo then reflects more of Dream than of Mexican Dream. With an empty, unfinished nation not unlike how empty and isolated Dream likely felt, as well as angry about nations for being the cause.

This theory becomes a little stronger when looking at Tommy’s 1st Limbo being an existence of basically nothing. And I think this reflects how Dream kinda has nothing at this point. Also relating to how Tommy killed the cat (and am I miss remembering that he also burned his clock?) the only thing(s) Dream had left. It could alternatively relate to an empty stomach adding an element from his death being from the potato.

Rambo’s limbo then connects to Sam for a few reasons, one I think Sam felt very alone in his efforts to keep Dream locked up. Like only he could do it and no one was helping him. It is also similar in the fact that Sam felt so cornered and trapped like killing Ranboo was the only thing he could do, similar to how one would feel stuck on a tiny island surrounded by water that burns. It’s also interesting since for Ranboo, the island is also inescapable like the prison and he is only able to leave when Mexican Dream comes (like Dream only escaping prison when Techno comes), oh and Sam lives on an island too.

Then finally Tommy’s 2nd Limbo I think pretty clearly relates to Tommy asking before he died about why and how Dream saw things, and Dream’s comment of “everything was fine before you came!” so Limbo shows Tommy Dream’s pov at the beginning. Reflecting how Dream feels, his - “I just don’t want to ever be alone.”

Anyways, hopefully that made some sense, those are just some thoughts I have at the moment. Now I wanna hear yours. :) How do you think limbo works? What do you think Punz’s and Dream’s Limbos were? What were Vik’s, Lazar’s and Connor’s Limbos? What do you think would have been Tubbo’s, Techno’s or other character’s Limbos? How was Quackity able to visit Schlatt’s Limbo in the Las Nevadas stream?…

[l0v3tast3]

hii!! could you write about a tall female reader with Konig or ghost (or both) like she is not taller than them, but taller than the average girl and is very insecure about her height because everyone tells her men don't like tall women🥲 you can make it both sfw and nsfw I don't mind

this was a super nice little blurb to write !! thank u anon for requesting it, i've always been kind of insecure about my height too since i'm 5'7" which isn't rlly that tall but like. still taller than a lot of other women lol, anyways i hope u like this! <<33

✎ tags: mdni!, female reader, not specified as military!reader but can go either way, fluff + comfort, a bit of spice but mostly sfw

✎ word count: 500 words (not proofread)

masterlist | requests are open!

♡ simon "ghost" riley — simon doesn't really care much about how tall you are, especially compared to other people. if anything, it's reassuring to him; it makes you more capable of defending yourself, it makes you stronger and more resilient, in more ways than just physical. he won't be oblivious to your insecurities and brush them off; instead, he'll try in his own way to help you build your confidence with it. — we all know he's not the most emotionally "available" man out there, so the occasions that he verbally comforts you about it are few and far apart. the things he says to help are short and indirect, short praises whenever your height comes into play in a good way. it's mostly during the training he helps you with. grins and a proud "well done" whenever you pin him or get in a move that would have hit hard on him. — whenever you're in private and he can see the negative thoughts about your above-average height starting to pool in your head, simon makes sure to prove to you just how attracted to you he is. he couldn't give less of a fuck that you're taller than average- it's not like he can't still manhandle you any and every way he wants. it'll be more of a positive than anything else, since there's just more space for him to claim with his mouth and hands.

♡ könig — könig isn't as "indifferent" as simon will be- he'll be thrilled by it. not the part where you're insecure about your height, but your height itself. he knows exactly what it's like to be bigger than everyone around you, for you to be denied or have a more difficult time on certain paths in life because of it. which means he'll know exactly how to comfort you! — he'll be full of reassurances for you regarding how much he loves you and your height. there's more of you to love, you're naturally better equipped to learn how to defend yourself, you can reach the top shelf easily; there's more benefits than negatives if you know where to look for them. könig thinks the best thing about it is that you only have to stand on your tippy-toes to give him a kiss. — no matter what, this goliath of a man is going to be bigger than you, and he's still going to be thrilled about it. with your height, it's a nice break from having to be as cautious as possible with anyone else he might be around. he'll still hold you like you're made of glass, still pick you up and move you however he likes, but he knows you're tougher than the rest, and he makes sure you know it too.

[yanderelovlies]

I got one! What about jack and bo find out their s/o is secretly a highly trained assassin/vigilante that kills crimals and other bad people at night to keep innocent people safe and often sneaks out to go patroling at night until they get caught sneaking out. (kind of like stain from my hero academia but they're not insane or kill heros)

𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖘 𝖐𝖊𝖕𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐

Note: Trigger warning: mentions blood and death on Bo's part. Also! Woah! Two fics in one day?! I'm on a roll!

Fandom(s): SWWSDJ, and DachaBo

Character(s): Sunny Day Jack, and Bo

You had always dreamed of being a hero. Someone everyone could look up to, and ask fro help. However when you got older that was all down the drain. You saw how corrupt everything was. It didn't matter if you did bad or good, it just mattered how much money you were willing to throw around. You weren't going to stand for it. It went against all your morals. So instead you took matters into your own hands. At night you would hunt for those who slipped the hands of justice. While getting ready you always made yourself swear that you would only target those who deserve it. It was almost like a prayer at this point. 

Since you lived alone it wasn't hard to just get ready, and leave. However things are different now. Now you have a partner, and because of his circumstances he lived with you. You loved having him there during the day. You got all the love and cuddles you could ask for! But when it came to getting ready for the hunt at night it became harder. You had to wait till he was asleep to get ready and sneak out. The more you got away with the  more confident you became, which led to your downfall.

Sunny Day Jack 

This wasn’t the first time he woke up in the middle of the night to with you gone. At first he thought you were simply in the bathroom, but after an hour of waiting you never came back. He began to worry. He heard of the vigilante running around ending the lives of people and heroes alike. What if for whatever reason you were a target?! He began frantically looking all over the house for you or worse….a body. 

After not finding anything Jack paced the living room trying to come up with places you could be. When passing the widow however he saw you jumping from the neighboring roof to the apartment building roof. Now Jack was really confused. He never said anything till the second time it happened. This time however he was waiting in the living room till you walked through the door 

“J-jack! What are you doing up?”

Jack looked at you, his eyes cold and calculating. “I could ask you the same thing, sunshine…where have you been?”

You knew you were caught, and had to finally come clean. You really didn't want him involved in what you did, but you also didn't want to lose him. You sighed putting your things down. “Okay Jack I’ll tell you.” You sat down and began telling him your story. 

He was silent throughout the whole story. When you finished he was silent for a bit longer before he took a deep breath “Why didn't you tell me sunshine? What if you were caught or worse killed? I would have never known….”

“I didn't want to get you involved. I wanted to protect you from it, I guess.”   

With a sigh Jack stood up and made his way to you. He sat beside you and took both of your hands “Sunshine, I'm more capable than you think, and I would do anything for you…Let me help you.”   

Bo

After he heard the shut of the door he was immediately up. Why did you leave and not tell him? Were you going out with someone? Was it a friend? A family member? ….someone else? Bo wasted no time getting dressed and following you out the door. 

He followed your scent all the way to another house. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck tingle. Why were you at someone else's home?! The closer Bo got the stronger the smell of blood filled the air. When he got to the source he was surprised. Peeking into the window he watched as you stood tall over the body of a man. Your blade dripping with his blood. Wordlessly you wiped the blade before turning to the window only to spot him “Bo?! What are you doing here?!” your voice was barely above a whisper but he could hear almost clear as day.

“I could ask you for the same puppy.” He isn't mad anymore. Curious more than anything. Why did you kill him? Did he do something to you? Why didn't you just tell him? 

You sighed walking over to the window “let's go home, and i'll tell you everything.” 

And that was what the two of you did. Bo had plenty of questions along the way, but you didn't mind. You want to be as clear as him as you could.

“So then can I come hunting with you?” 

You blink owlishly at him “....What?”

You saw his tail behind him begin to wag wildly “I can help you! And they would never suspect anyone has claws like me! It works out perfectly!”

You were shocked to say the least. You never thought Bo would ask to join you on the hunt, but in a way it makes sense. It must be his animal instincts.”We can go for a trial run tomorrow night….how is that?”

“Perfect!”

[alessiathepirate]

Pre-Resident Evil 4

A GOOD ENOUGH MOVE: Jack Krauser x fem!reader

Summary: Training with Jack Krauser can be quite the challenge - unless she finds a good enough move.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I made while I wrote this short story.

As much as I love Leon and Luis, I can't deny that this guy makes me feel things as well.

Warnings: violence (fighting, training, knives), slightly suggestive

•••

The sound of knife meeting knife was something she was already used to.

It didn't come as a surprise or as a shocking attack anymore - it has became a long awaited occurence. She could see it happening the moment she opened her eyes in the morning and she thought about a new move to dodge it as she ate breakfast.

She could calculate Krauser's moves pretty well by now, but that didn't mean that she could protect herself against him. Not when he was taller, stronger and heavier, making it easy for him to push her against the wall or kick her feet out and push her down to the ground.

She wasn't stronger than Jack Krauser even if she could think like him.

Once again, it wasn't hard for him to kick her knife out of her hand and with a simple shove push her against the wall. Her forehead was sticky from sweat and her shirt was stuck to her body like a second skin. God, this man can make the training tiring.

"This is pathetic - even from you." she wasn't at all surprised when the blade was pushed against her throat and she knew that with a simple move of his wrist, Krauser could easily kill her.

Just a simple slice and that's it. A wrong breath or a wrong move and she's dead.

Even if deep down she knew the man wasn't capable of killing her - that would ruin his reputation for a lifetime - he definitely had the skill to do so.

"You should be perfectly capable to perform a simple dodge. It's the easiest skill to learn. Even Kennedy knows it, yet you don't." his breathing was heavy, like a predator's who trapped his prey and was about to put it out of its misery. "I expected more from you. Much more."

She pressed her palms against the wall next to her body, not daring to touch the Major everyone hated around here - at least Leon did and that fact alone was enough to form a friendship with him - as if a simple touch could end her life. She avoided the eye contact - because deep down the part of herself what became completely ruined in this place believed his every word.

He leaned in, getting closer than he already was. This time his breath hit her temple.

"Still being shy, huh?" she could see the smirk forming on his face. "Can't even keep up with an eye contact."

He could mock her all he wanted, but deep down she knew the truth. Krauser prefered her like this - weak, shy, 'pathetic'. He had too much fun with her, he enjoyed tormenting her with his words too much to actually want her to change and become a cold blooded soldier.

"I'm sorry, Major." she apologized for something - even she herself didn't know what for.

His other hand touched her shoulder and pushed it back firmly. She felt her hearbeat quicken. Krauser, who probably had seen many people scared and anxious under his gaze, felt the difference in her presence.

"Rumor has it," he started pressing the blade a bit further into her skin. "I make you nervous." he finished, looking at her expression from so close she actually started to feel nervous.

Her mind started to run wild both from fear and a bit of arousal. Her lungs hurt from trying to keep her breathing steady, her mouth felt dry and her stomach fluttered.

"What do you say, girl scout? Do I make you nervous?"

His breath was hot on her skin and she was sure it made her sweat more. His hand what kept a firm hold on her shoulder traveled upwards. If she wouldn't have been through Hell in these past few weeks, which made her look like a person who had been dragged through Hell, she would've started to feel special and wanted.

Did he make her nervous?

He did for sure. He did everytime he trained her and made her do extra sets of excercises because of a 'pathetic' move or dodge. He made her nervous everytime he followed her with his gaze even when she had a few minutes of free time. He made it hard to breath everytime he dodged, touched and squeezed.

He very obviously made her nervous with his whole existence.

"I don't know, Major." she answered after pulling herself together and finding her best teasing tone. "What do you think?"

The smirk what followed her question was something wild mixed with a bit of danger. From what she could see from his face, she read satisfaction and excitement.

"What do I think?" she turned to look at him, cutting her own skin with the knife from the movement - she hissed, but kept her composure. "I think your pulse tells me everything I need to know." he moved his hand back to her shoulder. "I think you enjoy this training too much for your own good - I think it explains your pathetic moves."

He was close. Way too close. She felt the muscles in her thigh tighten and her heart started to flutter.

"I do enjoy your company, Major." she continued as the cogs in her mind worked with full force. "I might as well say what I feel."

His grip on her became even firmer if that was possible.

"Such a tease." the words came out as a whisper, as if Krauser would try to keep his real feelings from coming out, stopping them before they could touch the surface.

He leaned even closer, his breath brushed her cheek and then her lips. He was so close she started to wonder how kissing him would feel. Would it be rough? It couldn't possibly be on the softer side. Krauser wasn't kind to anyone and he most definitely wouldn't go soft on her. Still - would it be full of passion, would it be quick or would he take his time?

She closed her eyes as she almost felt his lips on hers-

Her eyes opened much quicker than she closed them as she pushed her head back into the wall. That's when she broke out. Her hands left the wall, ready to act. She kicked upwards with her right leg, her knee meeting with his stomach with such a force she didn't know she had it in herself. It was only a second long shock, but it was enough - she punched upwards with her free arm, the punch only barely hitting him in the jaw, but his natural instincts worked just fine - like she thought.

Krauser stepped back, letting go of her shoulder, but keeping the knife in place, what she managed to get with a firm twist from her previously trapped arm.

Dodge - he attacked back. Of course he would.

Change of positions. She got to Krauser's previous place and after a hard kick to his feet, she had him where she wanted him. Knife to the throat, back to the wall.

It was her time to smirk - even if she knew it wouldn't take long for him to get his composure back and easily overpower her once again.

She didn't care - a small win is still a win.

"Is this a good enough move, Major?" she asked - god she'll have an extra two if not three sets for this. "Is this what you expected me to do?"

She expected him to become angry, yet all she saw was a twisted kind of satisfaction.

"Such a quick learner."

It was the only praise she has ever gotten from him. Her cheeks reddened. Even if she knew a way to make him dance, he knew one to make her weak - and aroused.

It didn't take long until he had a hold on her wrist.

"I learned from the best, Major."

He tilted his head and she swallowed. He was interested and now she was most definitely prey in front of something wild and primal.

[solei-eclipse]

Explanation time! Starting with Kio because she's easier and TUMBLR POSTED MY DRAFT FOR JIU so I'm redoing that later everyone close your eyes

From top left going down: Chihiro Ogino (Spirited Away), James Henry Hayward (the Iremonger trilogy, Foulsham), Momo (Momo & the Grey Gentlemen)

Top right going down: Mitsuha Miyamizu (Your Name), Hikaru (The Summer Hikaru Died), Mitsuri Kanroji (Demon Slayer)

Chihiro Ogino

So this one is PAINFULLY obvious

naturally she's where Kioku's character originated from, but the funny thing is she's a lot more disconnected from Chihiro than Jiu is to Haku

Most of the main traits still remain. the childish kind of naivety, meeting people she's been told are untrustworthy yet trusting and believing with her heart that they are good inside anyway (this works out for Chihiro, it does not work out for Kioku), stubbornness, general lack of grace, etc

The main reason why Kio seems more separated from Chihiro is because the main thing that inspired me was the idea of Chihiro after walking out the tunnel aka losing her memory

The concept of her disappearing and coming back as this strangely different girl but nobody knows why. She can't even remember herself

Can you imagine losing your whiny scaredy cat daughter for (what you assume is) 2 hours and she comes back hardened with experience and maturity and wtf why is she cleaning now

One of my favorite interpretations of an older Chihiro is that she's into sports! I've seen quite a few variants (track, soccer, lacrosse, softball)

To me, Chihiro would take up sports as a result of her budding work ethic + after all the stunts she pulled in the bathhouse I'd say she's got a head start on the training already (running from a giant No Face as a tiny scrawny 10 year old definitely alters the brain chemistry I think) + it's just a way to further hammer down how changed and developed she is from the child she used to be before. she is literally stronger and more capable now

Kio is pretty much the same in this aspect, with the added bonus of "the mind forgets but the body remembers" as one of the reasons why she likes physical activity so much

Also. Chihiro is absolutely not a parkourist though Kio is LMAO she's just kind of slightly a freak. while Chihiro is just sweet

James Henry Hayward

So onto the more obscure book inspos

James Henry Hayward is a young boy who was previously a bath plug. I realize I have to explain this a little.

In the world of the Iremonger trilogy, there are things called birth objects. They're essentially people turned into objects, and the rich and wealthy Iremonger family connect their souls with these poor objects in order to increase their power/lifespan I believe? It's been a while since I've read it to be honest. They essentially keep these people trapped into objects and carry them around like trophies. If they're too far away from their birth object, they grow ill until they die. A person and their birth object cannot be human at the same time, if their birth object suddenly breaks into human form again, the other person will turn into their birth object. You can imagine the oppressive shit they do to their objects in order to ensure that they stay objects.

James Henry was a bath plug, the birth object of the main character. At the end of the first book, a huge event happens where the main character turns into an object and James Henry is able to become human again

But since he has connections to the main character (who was heir to the rich and wealthy tyrant family), he was kept and locked away in their residence in order to be monitored

The main inspiration I took from James Henry once again has to do with memory.

When James Henry reverts back to a human, he can't remember anything from his past save from a few hazy vignettes and seeing things that shouldn't be there

His general perception of the world is cloudy and unclear because his caretaker feeds him "medicine" that really just serves to cloud his memory more and ensure that he lives in blissful ignorance

The people of the house regularly gaslight him into believing that nothing is wrong and that he grew up in this house, continuously feeding him medicine that makes his head hurt and difficult to think

He keeps seeing things where they shouldn't be and believes that they're remnants of his past memories that are seeping out

They're often distorted though, and usually take the form of strange things, like his sister as a rat inside a cupboard.

James Henry serves as Kio's inspiration in this way, but his caretaker Ada also serves as inspiration for Kio's guardian

Momo

Momo is a mysterious little girl (scrawny, around 10 or below) of unknown origin who just... appears out of nowhere and begins to integrate herself amongst the locals of the town.

When asked about her age, I believed she answered like. 1000+ or something? Once again, it's been a while.

Her origins are never explained, nobody knows where she came from and she doesn't seem to know either.

She's welcomed with open arms, though, and the townsfolk begin warming up to her.

Overall her personality traits are pretty standard heroine stuff, naive, honest, sees good in people (literally, I'll explain in a moment), does her best to help, etc

The main trait I took from Momo was the quality of her eyes.

Momo's eyes are special in the way that anyone who looks into them (which she does when she "listens" to them, her special talent is "listening") will have the good brought out of them. She listens to people's problems, and once they air out their grievances and look into her eyes it's almost like their problems are fixed somehow. She has the power to stop fights, bring creative inspiration and calm the hysterical just by sitting there.

There's a scene where one of the antagonists (a grey gentleman who steals the lifespan of other people) tries to lure her away with toys and such, but she just stares at him and he starts spilling his guts uncontrollably. He tries in vain to stop it but he ends up spouting secrets and the true motives of his company and junk and it's just an insane scene because all she's doing is standing there and this grown businessman alien is scared shitless of her.

NATURALLY THIS IS AN INSANELY OVERPOWERED ABILITY (to me). even more crazy how it seems like momo doesn't even know she has it

So I made sure Kio didn't have that EXACT ability because Lord knows the kind of secrets these s40 kids are carrying around.

I mentioned before in the introduction post, but Kio has a very open face and disarming eyes. They're not as overpowering as Momo's, just enough to make anyone with bad intent or a severe secret feel strangely uncomfortable. They're rather warm to everyone else.

Despite this, there's one person that her eyes have the full Momo effect™ on, and I think you can guess who.

(there's a reason he doesn't look into her eyes)

Mitsuha Miyamizu (Taki Tachibana?)

Honestly not much on Mitsuha herself, but rather Taki when he inhabits Mitsuha's body

It's noticeable that whenever Taki is in control, Mitsuha's hair is in a ponytail instead of its usual intricate braid. This is because he doesn't know how to do it like she does.

That's Kio to me. All she can do is a ponytail.

Taki-Mitusha is also much more sporty and bold than the real Mitsuha!

I can imagine Kio in that scene where Taki-Mitsuha plays basketball. That was a scene I found really fun lol

Honestly that basketball scene is the only reason. I don't really know why I gave her a spot here........

Hikaru

:)

Mitsuri Kanroji

Just for the general energetic vibes, clumsy nature and genuine spirit

Also the fact that Mitsuri is abnormally strong and her body composition is bizarre.

She's very athletic and agile, very fast-moving.

Kio would be less on the flexibility aspect and more on the running and jumping stuff, though (parkour!!)

Mitsuri is kind of a huge dork who messes up frequently and is pretty clumsy, which are traits that Kio has

But she's also an incredibly hard worker and creates her own way out of a given thing or situation, opting to keep her hopes up even if she cries about it sometimes (similar to Chihiro)

Kio's mannerisms are also quite similar, especially the scene where she tries and fails to explain something to the Master and embarrassedly says "I'm so sorry. I'm going to go die in a hole now." while groveling.

The reaction that Iguro has to her explanation is also very Jiu coded HAHAHA

[autisticlancemcclain]

Truthfully, he should have seen it coming.

He’d anticipated the pain and loneliness for the first week. No signal, Keith had said, but it won’t last too long. Lance had hung onto those words like they were the only thing holding him up from a chasm of frustration. Every longing look at his laptop came with a reminder that he could talk to Keith soon.

And then the second week passed. And the third.

Lance had rationalized it to himself. Keith has a very hectic schedule, after all. It’s not too unusual for him to miss a call, for him to be unavailable. It’s not like he has a set schedule. He gets missions and then he has to go — Lance would rather him be focused, honestly, even if it means he misses his boyfriend worse.

He’s in a weird state of limbo, then, when the call from Kolivan comes. Part of Lance felt dread from the moment the Blade pushed through the call. Another part begged any god who would listen that he was wrong. There had been so much panic and uncertainty swirling through thin, then, that he’d hardly even heard the Galran’s words, hardly heard him confirm Lance’s worst fear: Keith had gone missing. He was assumed dead.

Something cracked in Lance, then. Something wide and sharp and gaping, splitting all the way up from the base of his tailbone to the tip of his head. Something fragmented, as every part of him imploded.

Before he felt the pain, though, before his heart cracked fully in half, his brain went foggy, like he was a panicking horse with a blanket thrown over its head.

This is for your own good, murmured a voice in his head, gentle and cool as a river, and then Lance went blank. He heard his teammates’ outcries, heard the demand for answers and details that Kolivan did not have, saw the confusion and fear and panic in everyone’s expression.

But he was blank. He felt nothing. Red had dragged Blue to him, and had her blanket his mind and soul, protect him from his own destruction.

He spent the next two months increasingly numb. He felt things happening, logged them in his brain, interacted as normally as he could, but it almost felt like he was tethered on a string a few feet away from his body, like he was watching himself live from behind.

It was nauseating.

Watching the team fall apart, struggle to even interact as a group; watching everyone branch off and grow more irritable, watching Shiro crack under his own pressure and turn into someone Lance couldn’t recognise…it was difficult to watch. It felt like watching two trains approach each other at full speed only for you it was in slow motion; you knew it was coming, could see all the damage it was doing, but you were powerless to stop it.

I can’t do this anymore, he begged his lions. He felt both of their apprehension in his mind, their fear; of him splintering where he stands. He’s never been very good at handling heartbreak. He can barely handle the pain of being so far away from home, from what he knows. Losing people haunts him in ways that never leave. He knows that.

But he also knows that he is capable. He has made it this far. Grief is all-encompassing, it always is, but he has grown around the pain every time, and he will again.

This time, also, he has no choice. He is the Red Paladin of Voltron. Whether Shiro wants him or not, he is the right hand. He has a responsibility, and he can hide from it no longer.

It will hurt, Blue warns softly.

Lance closes his eyes, shuddering. His hands clutch tighter on the shirt he has of Keith’s, soft with use, no longer smelling of him but comforting anyway.

“I know,” he whispers.

Hesitation blooms from both lions, but Lance’s resolve is stronger. Nothing happens for a moment, the anticipation of the pain worse than any muted emotion he’s felt in weeks. Then, suddenly, like the blanket was ripped off his mind, he lights up with pain.

He gasps out in the shock of it — it’s more than he expected, everywhere, like months of grief is hitting him at once. Sobs bubble up his throat and explode out of him, violent in how they tear out of his throat, his mouth, and the heaving turns his stomach so greatly that he barely makes it to the bathroom before throwing up. He clutches the icy porcelain of the toilet seat, like the grip can help the splitting ache in his head, the burning of his eyes, the bitter taste overflowing his mouth.

“God, no,” he moans, and he’s not sure if he’s protesting the pain of a trillion suppressed neutrons firing at once or the abstract pain of knowing he will feel this ache every day for the rest of his life. “God, please, no.”

He’s not sure how long he sits like that. How long he suffers. Long enough that he runs out of tears, long enough that his voice grows hoarse. Both Blue and Red howl in pain inside his mind, frantic to watch him but unable to intervene. He mourns until he physically cannot mourn any longer, and falls asleep crumpled where he sits, clutching himself tightly to try and hold his pieces together.

He wakes suddenly to the castle’s blaring morning alarm, muscles cramped from their night-long tense positions and eyes burning. He straightens as carefully as he can, rising to wash his face and dress as quickly as he can manage. He’s going to be late regardless. And Shiro is going to be angry with him, and this time he’s just going to have to deal with it. The ache in him has not lessened. He just no longer has time to cater it.

He is the Paladin of the Red and Blue Lions, the Right Hand of Voltron.

He has a job to do.

———

fics in the same universe: before after