#figured there's more of a community for this here so

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hello! I feel like the best way I know how to answer this question is in the form of a recommendation list, so hold onto your hats! Below is a list of trans-feminine creators whose work has changed the hobby for the better, adding insights, games and contributions that challenge, inspire, and uplift everyone who participates in the community.

A clarification: Not all of the people I've listed here specifically identify as trans women, but I'm fairly confident that the folks I've listed can resonate with transfeminine experience. Gender's a fun playspace that doesn't have solid barriers, and in my list of trailblazers there are people who align more closely with a non-binary gender or no gender at all. Regardless, I think it's beautiful that so many trans creators have had the ability to flourish in the design space, and leave a lasting mark, and first and foremost, the goal of this list is to honor and celebrate that.

snow

snow has quite a significant games catalogue, her two most notable games being .dungeon and Songbirds 3e.

The original game of .dungeon is about characters (and the people that play them) living in an MMORPG. It's described by Spencer Campbell as a classic dungeon crawler that's incredibly meta, a game that well, talks about games and what they mean to the people that play them. As a result, loss isn't just represented in hit points - it's represented in your ability to continue playing the game with your friends. Both the original and the remastered version put a lot of emphasis on making the game easy to learn, especially with the tutorial adventure that is the first thing you read in the remastered version.

Songbirds 3e is an OSR-inspired game that synthesises ideas from places such as Breath of the Wild, Dune, Dragon Ball, Disco Elysium, Fallout New Vegas, Into the Odd, and much much more. This game is consistently praised for its content more than anything else; the weird and fantastical, the depth of the lore, and the themes of movement between death and life. The setting is full of dungeons, but it's not necessarily fantasy; there's modern technology, shopping malls, basements, paintings, and strange growths in the wilderness that can all be dungeons. (Snow's kind of known for showing how anything can become a dungeon.)

I personally appreciate the game theory playlist that snow put together on Youtube. Most of the videos on this list are not about ttrpgs. But the thoughts put forward in these essays are really interesting, highlighting themes and mechanics in other media, including video games and music, that prompt you to re-contextualize and draw from the subjects of the videos in your game design.

Snow's work asks you to push fantasy far past the limits of typical sword and sorcery games, and challenges you to think about how to blend and mix genres into new and flavorful combinations.

Jenna Katerin Moran. @jennamoran

Jenna Katerin Moran is a prolific author, who has written for Steve Jackson Games and White Wolf, but some of her prominent works include Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine, Nobilis, and The Far Roofs.

Nobilis is a diceless game about people who are personifications of concepts; it's abstract, and pulls from modern mythology in a way that feels historied and yet new. Many of the reviews about this game praise its text and writing, while also admitting that it can be a terribly difficult game to pull off, because, for a 'narrative-style game', it's incredibly dense. In 2003, the 2nd edition of this game won the Diana Jones' Award for Excellence in Gaming.

Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine, like Nobilis, is diceless, and like Nobilis, is set in the same game universe. Where Nobilis is grand and sweeping, Chuubo's small-town and slice-of-life, using character quests and goals to drive players to figure out what they do next. Like Nobilis, Chuubo's has beautiful writing, that draws the reader into the world and gently asks them what they want. The genres and arcs of the game help players highlight the story pieces that mean the most to them, and serve as guideposts, making very clear to everyone around the table what kind of themes and narrative threads you want to play with.

The Far Roofs is Moran's newest game, a game about talking rats and the people who perhaps might have once been rats but are now heroes. It's an urban fantasy game that pits tiny creatures against moon-stealing monsters and dead gods.

Moran's work is beautiful and poetic, exploring fantastic and emotional worlds while proving that just because a game feels narrative doesn't mean it can't be just as complex as a tactical game. Her games ask you to think about the world your characters live in, not just the characters themselves, and in many ways I think it can be difficult to pin her work into one specific genre. Reading her work is rewarding even if playing the game is difficult; Moran's work touches your heart and asks you to walk away from your experience with a new perspective.

Jay Dragon, @jdragsky

I was gobsmacked to find out that Jay Dragon started publishing games one year after I discovered ttrpgs, because Wanderhome exploded onto the scene in a way that took the indie world by storm. Wanderhome looks like a cozy game on the cover, but buried inside its pages are themes of grief, trauma, and loss, in a world where the good guys didn't win. Wanderhome is a game about community, the journey between disconnected places, and a world where hospitality and the kindness of strangers can make a big difference in anyone's life.

Yazeba's Bed & Breakfast, another game spearheaded by Dragon, takes away the option of creating your own character, and instead introduces the players to a vibrant cast of characters, asking you to place them into pre-written chapters of a piece of lost children's media, unlocking new content the longer you play the game. Similar to Wanderhome, Yazeba's is a game that can be played with a different play group every time; both of these games refrain from punishing players who can't make it to every session, while keeping the anticipation of wondering where each character is going to go next.

What I appreciate about Jay's work most of all is the consideration both of these games have for folks who have different gaming needs. Wanderhome and Yazeba's Bed & Breakfast reduce the barriers to play, from giving players the ability to step away from sessions without falling behind, to giving play options that allow players to participate in the practise of roleplaying without feeling the pressure to contribute to the story in the same way as everyone else.

Jay's most recent game, Seven Part Pact feels like a considerable step away from her previous work, I've already heard stories from play-testers about the ways the game affects them after they play it, particularly the strange trend of "wizard dreams." I'm curious to see where this game brings us once it's been published.

Avery Alder / Buried Without Ceremony

Avery Alder is the mind behind Monsterhearts, Dream Askew, and The Quiet Year, three games about community, queerness, and existence on the margins.

Apocalypse World is a game that introduced a whole new style of design to the indie scene, but Monsterhearts was the first game built on the Apocalypse Engine that proved that you didn't have to make the game about combat. Monsterhearts emphasized the personal conflict between characters that can be fruitful story seeds for roleplayers who truly feel fulfilled when their characters are emotionally backstabbing each-other. At the same time, the game was honoring media that was often derided due to the fact that it was loved by teenage girls - movies like Twilight, and monster romance fiction. Monsterhearts also took away a player's choice about who they were attracted to; being a game about teenage sexuality, it left attraction up to whatever happend when the dice hit the table, which, considering the way games can often be a way to explore identity, blew a lot of players' minds wide open.

The Quiet Year, and its partner, Deep Forest are GM-less map-making games that have provided the bones for various other map-making games. The games separate players from individual characters, instead asking you to introduce new people and make a few statements about them before handing them over to the table, their stories free for anyone to pick up and examine. Both of these games are about communities that are attempting to rebuild, and the obstacles & opportunities that stand in their way. One of the most poignant pieces of these games is the way that characters express dissent: if a character feels left out of a decision or harbors dissent, the player representing that character takes a Contempt token. These tokens give those characters justification for actions taken that harm the community as a whole, but they also sit as silent reminders to the entire table that the community is out of step with one-another; the lack of trust that can sit and simmer until it's too late.

Dream Askew is a product of the Powered by the Apocalypse design ethos, but re-contextualizes many of the processes into a new line of games, styled as Belonging Outside Belonging, or No Dice, No Masters. These games are known to typically be diceless and GM-less, with players taking ownership both of a major character as well as an element of the world they live in. This form of design democratizes decision-making at the table, both removing an element of power imbalance that exists at a GM-led table, as well as encouraging all of the players to contribute in similar ways. It gives players ownership over the setting, and invests the table heavily into the game.

Overall, Alder's design seems to prompt new ways of playing at the table, and her work is a priceless contribution to both storytelling-type games and GM-less tables. I'm personally touched by the ways her games aim to confront a sense of community and care even in moments where conflict isn't easy to navigate.

Jennell Jaquays

Jennell Jaquays is one of the early pioneers of games, known for both he work in ttrpgs and video games. Her work is a fundamental pillar of dungeon design, particularly her adventures titled The Caverns of Thracia Dark Tower, (adventure modules for D&D) and Griffin Mountain (for Chaosium's RuneQuest). Her dungeons exhibited a previously-unseen flexibility, and even gave birth to the term "Jaquaysing the dungeon", which referred to creating a dungeon that had multiple paths for players to follow, allowing a nonlinear progression. A dungeon with multiple pathways and entrances can be traversed multiple times over, with new layers and added complexity as the players grow in skill and knowledge.

Adventure modules in the OSR do this pretty much all the time now, but Jaquays is considered the godmother of the idea. The decision to give players options about what to tackle and what to avoid increases player agency and makes the game feel less scripted. While Jaquays passed away in 2024, her work leaves a legacy that has likely left an impact on any dungeon you pick up to play.

Adira Slattery

Adira's work is quintessentially indie, in that I feel that her games are made for her 30 sickos, and then outside of that, anyone who's willing to dip their toes in. I can't pick just two or three games to highlight when it comes to her work, because her ideas are unique and punchy and vibrant.

Deadly Weapons is a game about girls with guns who hunt demons, and hacks the BXLLET system in a way that removes dice and randomizers, instead asking players to take on risks in order to achieve their goals, all while being haunted by the guns that force them to kill demons.

Bad Moon is a cathartic game about yelling at the Moon, because you love her and she has wronged you.

No Love's Land is a duet game about lesbian robots working for opposing forcees in a war, assigned to assassinate each-other.

Feedback is a solo drawing game about answering surveys and drawing chairs.

Slattery's games are weird, they're messy, and they ask you to be vulnerable and engage with ritual. She uses unique mechanics and approaches to game design to give you new play-tools and challenge you to re-define what a game actually is. Her work is intimate and violent and I love the contrast that exists between the two.

Nem, the founder of Sandy Pug Games

Sandy Pug Games is a game-production co-op with a huge library, the most notable game being Monster Care Squad, a game about healers in a fantasy world working to take care of sick creatures in a humane way, and the most recent game being Hellpiercers, a game about breaking into hell after all the gods have died to free those unjustly imprisoned.

Nem is certainly not the only person who helps manage a co-op, (and certainly not the only trans fem person doing it either), but Sandy Pug is emblematic of what collectivist labour looks like; it's a studio that lifts up the work of all its contributors in a way that is heartening to see in an industry that commonly has various solo hobbyists trying to figure out how to make their passion a reality, figuring out the steps on their own. The community aspect makes their work special, and as the group's founder, Nem deserves some credit for spearheading the charge.

Emily Allen @cavegirlpoems

Emily Allen is the author of Dungeon Bitches as well as the adventures The Stygian Library and The Gardens of Ynn (to name a few).

The Stygian Library and The Gardens of Ynn are both system-agnostic adventures that work exceptionally well in various OSR-style games. Allen's adventures invented the idea of the depth-crawl, a method for procedurally generating a location as you play. Disparate locations and encounters are written up in the adventure, but the order in which they appear isn't set in stone; they show up according to player choice and GM dice rolls. The rolls generate different locations depending on how deep the players go, allowing for compact dungeon design that feels different every time you run it.

On the flip side, Dungeon Bitches is a PbtA game about queer women trying to survive in a cold and unforgiving world, with space for romance, sexuality, and the catharsis of grappling with abuse. There is no respite for your Bitches; polite society has no place for them, and the dungeon doesn't care about who they are or how they feel, it wants them dead all the same. The game embraces the ability of PbtA playbooks to make bold statements about the kinds of characters that live in this world and the specific struggles each archetype is going to face.

Between these works, Allen also has war-games, lyric games, osr games and experimental metafiction, wrestling with surrealism, whimsy, pain and queerness. She has range and depth in astounding abundance, and it makes her accolades well-deserved.

And now, a lighting round…

April Kit Walsh, designer of Thirsty Sword Lesbians, which as a naming convention, is probably the most transparent label you can give a game.

Evey Lockhart, who writes wild and weird content for Troika, the science-fantasy multiversal ttrpg.

curatrix-ribston, @ribstongrowback, a horror connoisseur and author of doll.bod, a cyberpunk game that lives rent-free in my head ever since I found out about it.

@thydungeongal is the world's foremost Rolemaster fan and her thoughts on what games do and what game design does have resonated in the the works of designers and games academics.

Austin Ramsey / @austinramsaygames is the designer of Beam Saber, as well as a radiant and enthusiastic contributor to the Forged in the Dark design space: her game of mech pilots and an unwinnable war has inspired the PARTIZAN season as found on Friends At The Table, as well as CalazCon, a mega-campaign actual play featuring 30 players.

Kayla Dice of Rat Wave Game House @ratwavekayla is a Diana Jones Emerging Designer Award Winner who is behind The Fight Card System, a dueling game system that uses trick-taking games as a resolution mechanic. Kayla is also the host of the podcast This Is Your Lifepath, which interviews various designers.

Tanya Floaker is the designer of games such as Lo! Thy Dread Empire, Mum Chums, and Be Seeing You, games about capitalism, community, and surveillance, and their work examines the way things are while asking if the structures we live in have to stay that way.

wendi yu, @wendiyu, is a Brazilian game designer known best for her game here, there, be monsters!, an unapologetically monstrous game about being queer, being monstrous, and resisting the boxes that capitalism and fascism try to shove us into. The game flips monster media on its head and asks you to embrace your weirdness and cherish the outsider.

Lex Kim Bobrow, aka @titanomachyrpg, is a non-binary game designer and the creator of Caltrop Core, the first of many SRDs that made it easier for newcomers to try out game design for the first time. Lex's work is also aggressively human-made, a testament to the beauty and uniqueness of personal creativity.

(as someone who isn't trans, I welcome criticism from trans creators who find any remarks in this essay that turn out to be insensitive, inaccurate or thoughtless)

Shout-out your own fave trans creators! I'd love to add to the list.

Trans women: I love you. <3

I don't think I can overstate the depth of impact trans women have had on indie ttrpgs.

[jellysmosh]

More Than Just a Dream

Summary: As an actor, you knew more people would be noticing you after starring in an indie movie that gained some decent popularity. Although, the last thing you expected was to watch your no.1 YouTube crush yap about your performance in their latest video. Title is from Out of My League by Fitz and The Tantrums.

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader

Tags: Fluff, actor!reader, two idiots losing their composure, gender neutral pronouns for reader but more feminine qualities

Word count: 4.7k

Note: Based on this request for celeb!reader, this was my take on it! Happy belated birthday to our special guy! I hope my fellow Spencer-heads enjoy this one. <3

✩

You had been acting for a good majority of your life. Nothing major, local productions, community plays, your school’s drama troupe, extracurricular acting classes, you were even a theatre major in college. It was your passion. You loved diving into a character, exploring their story and becoming a part of a narrative separate to your own. You’d always been a huge fan of escaping into another world.

That’s how you ended up auditioning for and being cast in a small production company’s film as the main character. You were no big name, so when you got the call offering the part, you were ecstatic. It was called Shuttlecock, an offbeat black comedy about a virgin who somehow becomes the owner of a sex shop which they initially thought was a sports supply store. Long story. It was fun and bizarre but had vulnerability and heart. It was the first time you were mesmerised watching back something you had acted in. While you would not necessarily consider this a big break, it was definitely a huge step in your career.

The film did decently well, you tried not to let it get to your head as your best friends showered you with compliments, constantly telling you your “star was rising”. You started to semi-believe them when a few actors you had admired for years followed you back on Instagram. But one account in particular made you freeze in your tracks, sitting up in your bed when you saw the notification.

Smosh started following you.

“Oh my god”, you breathed out, “what?”

You had been a Smosh subscriber for ages. You recalled watching old sketch videos as a young theatre kid, they had definitely influenced you, in your comedic acting skills at least. And now, they followed you back. You resisted the urge to message them, they followed you minutes ago, you needed to play it cool.

✩

It was days later, when you were watching the latest Smosh Games video that you realised why they may have followed you.

“I have no idea”, Shayne put his arms up. Him and Spencer were doing another video where they guessed the movie by the frames.

“I… I think I know this”, Spencer scratched his chin, squinting at the monitor in front of them.

“Of course you do”, Shayne replied, slapping him on the back, “you got this, bud, I’m just here for moral support.”

Spencer was deep in thought, leaning forward. His fingers were resting on the keyboard as he tried to figure out what it was.

You recognised the first frame. It was from Shuttlecock. You felt excitement build inside you. It was a very vague one, a simple shot of one of the sex shop’s walls from the outside.

“I need to make sure”, Spencer said under his breath, skipping to the second frame.

The next one was of you. Well, it was your hand, pointing at something out of shot, fingernails covered in nail polish that was chipping off slightly.

“Yep”, he said with finality, typing the movie title in while Shayne whooped in excitement at him getting the correct answer.

You covered your mouth, scared you might scream with the giddiness that was rising in your chest. You didn’t want to alarm your neighbours in the adjacent apartment.

“What is this movie?” Shayne asked as they flicked through the other frames that would have popped up if they guessed wrong. There were a couple of different cast members and sets, the final one was of you looking at another character incredulously while holding a vibrator at arms length. This made the two of them laugh.

“This indie movie, Shuttlecock”, Spencer replied, “I saw it recently. It’s so good, dude, so funny, and I’m obsessed with the main actor.”

Your heart did a weird jump in your chest, you slapped your hand over it in alarm. Spencer, a.k.a your favourite person at Smosh, was talking about you.

“They played this sort of innocent, but not naive, and really hilarious character who ends up running this weird sex toy shop, it’s hard to explain”, he laughed as Shayne looked around, expression bewildered. “I’m not doing a good job talking about it, I promise it’s so good, we can watch it later.”

Shayne threw his head back in laughter before agreeing.

Spencer pointed at the camera, “if you like funny movies, watch Shuttlecock.”

Then they moved on with the video like it had never happened. You wanted to shriek. If you had more energy, you would have run laps around your room like a dog waiting for a walk. You couldn’t believe he had talked about you, specifically you, in a video. You fumbled with your phone as you opened Instagram, scrolling through all the new follower notifications, your eyes scanned for a specific name.

And there it was.

Spennser started following you.

You had missed the notification since he followed you at the same time a wave of new followers came in. You kicked your legs in excitement. Had he not realised you were already following him? Why hadn’t he messaged you? Should you message him? You reasoned that you weren’t being a creep, and it was normal to want to ask to collaborate with a creative person you were an admirer of. And this had nothing to do with the parasocial crush you had been harbouring for him from your side of the computer screen for the past few years. Nothing at all.

You took a couple breaths to calm yourself down. You could totally message him, hit him with a cute (and flirtatious) ‘heard you were a fan?’ with a wink emoji. You shook your head. No, that was cringey. Maybe a simple ‘hi, love Smosh Games’. No, you were still cringing. You ended up chickening out, thinking too hard about it made you just a little bit nauseous. Maybe you would try again when you were feeling braver.

✩

Bestie: ‘Seriously, DM him. NOW!’

You stared at the text message from your best friend, you felt like there was a hive of bees buzzing in your head, confused, frantic, excited, scared. It was early in the morning and you were getting ready to run off to a meeting when your phone started blowing up. They had sent you a TikTok edit of you using clips from Shuttlecock, which was crazy enough, you had never seen a fan edit of yourself ever. But the part that freaked you out was at the very start of the edit, it kicked off with the clip of Spencer talking about you in the recent Smosh Games video, smiling in that way you had engraved into your brain.

You: ‘I don’t know…’

You messaged back, apprehensive.

Bestie: ‘You’ve gotta be kidding me, you’re like super into this guy. And he just rambled on about how great you were in your movie. This is your chance, TAKE IT!!!’

You wanted to scream again. They were kind of right, but you had a million reasons to be nervous about it.

You: ‘What if he wants nothing to do with me?’

You texted with one hand while the other fiddled with your hair, a nervous habit.

Bestie: ‘You are actually a huge pain in my ass.’

They shot back, making you giggle.

Bestie: ‘Did you see his face? He’d probably click his heels with joy if you DMed him.’

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. They were just glazing you at this point. You couldn’t blame them, gassing you up was part of best friend duties.

The internal battle on whether or not to message Spencer raged on when it was interrupted by a new direct message appearing on your phone screen. You opened it so fast, you didn’t even care that they could see that you read it. As your eyes rapidly read over the message, you felt your heart beat even faster. This was almost as thrilling as when you were first casted in the movie. You read the message again and again and again to make sure you were interpreting it correctly.

Smosh wanted to feature you as a guest in a video.

You returned to your conversation with your friend.

You: ‘I’ll talk to you later, something insane is about to happen.’

You were totally going to be late to your meeting.

✩

After weeks of correspondence and the rapid approach of the event in your calendar named ‘FILMING AT SMOSH HOLY SHIT’, the day had finally come.

You had spoken with the team multiple times about what they wanted you to come and record. You tried your best to keep it professional and mature, you weren’t sure if they realised how big of a fan you were. Essentially, they were filming a Try Not to Laugh video on the Smosh Pit channel for Spencer’s birthday, and they were inviting guests to have a turn making him spit water. Emily Rose had the bright idea of inviting you when she watched him gush about you in the Games video he did with Shayne.

“It’s going to be a surprise”, she had explained to you over a video call. “Some guests he will be anticipating, but a few are going to be extra fun because he has no idea they’re coming. We’re going to save your turn for near the end of the video because he’s going to lose it.”

You chuckled at that, both nervous and excited.

“Are you sure he will?” You were a little unsure. Sure, he followed you on social media, you saw him like your posts, but he only talked about you one time in one video.

“Oh, yes. He will.” Emily Rose practically cackled, “trust me.”

You shrugged. She seemed confident that this was a good idea, and in what world would you ever turn down a chance to film a video with Smosh?

When you went through the whirlwind of arriving at Smosh HQ, meeting people, being whisked away to the area where they were hiding surprise guests, and preparing to appear on camera, you felt like you were walking through a fever dream. The excitement that buzzed in your body from your head to your fingertips was akin only to the feeling right before you stepped out on stage for a performance. In a way, this was the same, but the audience for this performance included Spencer Agnew, which made you sweat from anxiety.

You were a fan of the guy, you thought he was funny and charming and watching videos of him brightened your day. But you had never actually met him, and now you were going to go out there in front of a whole cast and crew and try to make him laugh hard enough to spit water, that was a bit daunting.

You shook out your limbs and tried to relax. This was going to be fun. Emily Rose said so. And so did Courtney and Angela when they saw you, offering you friendly smiles as they nudged each other in sheer enthusiasm. You didn’t expect that many people at Smosh to recognise you, let alone seem super glad you were there. As filming started and people took turns doing their bits, you watched on the monitors behind the partition. You covered your mouth laughing multiple times, not wanting to be too loud on an unfamiliar set. You were having a blast watching Spencer’s beloved castmates, crewmates, friends, and former coworkers attempt to break him, most succeeding.

“No way!” Spencer guffawed loudly after spitting his water. A couple of his former colleagues from ClevverTV surprised him, doing over the top impersonations of some of his most famous Smosh bits.

That was followed by Angela and Amanda doing a bit inspired by the three of them playing Resident Evil 8 together, then it was Chanse reprising his Bit City role as Cunty Spencer but with a Fred Darts twist this time. Everyone moved so naturally and put so much thought into their bits. Emily Rose had told you that you just needed to walk out there and the rest would take care of itself. Whatever that meant. So, you didn’t really have a proper bit ready. That terrified you.

For a split second, you forgot you were actually there, feeling like you were at home watching the latest TNTL video on your computer, and when you snapped out of it, it all felt so surreal again.

You were prompted by the team to get ready. It was your turn next.

You mentally prepared yourself as best you could, drying the bit of perspiration you had collected on your hands on your jeans and attempting to fix your hair. When given the cue, you walked out from behind the partition. As you turned to him, you locked eyes with Spencer and felt a bit embarrassed, offering a small wave.

As soon as Spencer recognised you, which took about one second, he immediately spat out half his water, followed by a gasp, which made him choke on the rest of his water and then he was thumping his own chest as he sputtered, coughing hard. The sudden display of a complete lack of composure made Courtney and Shayne, sitting on either side of him, spit their water as well with surprised amusement. The room erupted with yells and roaring laughter, many of them never having seen Spencer get so red in the face.

Turns out Emily Rose was right. No bits needed.

“You’re Y/N from Shuttlecock”, Spencer simply wheezed out, his eyes were a little watery from choking, but they were wide as he stared at you.

You nodded. “I am”, you replied, smiling at him. “I’m so glad you all spat because I had nothing prepared.” The crew and cast responded with another round of laughs. “Happy birthday”, you leaned in to quietly say.

“Holy shit”, Shayne was cackling, “how did they get you on here?”

“Instagram DM”, you simply replied, shrugging. You looked at the cameras, “it’s just that easy.”

“They’re not a huge blockbuster movie star just yet”, Spencer turned to the room, he held his hands out like he was defending you.

You raised your brows at him, “yet?”

“I have big plans for you”, was his fast response, earning another bunch of laughter from the room, you joining in.

“I’d love to hear them”, you couldn’t help grinning.

The video had to continue, so you scurried away, heart still pounding hard and fast in your chest. You tried to convince yourself it was because you were just nervous from being on camera. You were glad the viewers wouldn’t be able to feel the heat emanating off your body through their screens when they eventually watched this. Filming wrapped not long after your turn, and the mood was so high when they called ‘cut’, that everyone lingered to chat and mingle, the amount of people on set much higher than a usual shoot.

You were finishing up talking to Arasha when the man of the hour approached you. He was finally talking to you, and it wasn’t over Instagram messages, so you felt even less prepared for this moment than you could hope for. You knew you would probably speak with him one-on-one at some point since the moment you received that DM from Smosh, but now that he was standing in front of you, it felt dreamlike, like you weren’t in control of your own body.

He looked a little sheepish as he spoke, “hi”, his voice was loud enough to be heard in the loud room, but still soft.

“Hi”, you echoed back. You had been performing for most of your life, but somehow felt out of your depth just talking to a guy you loved watching on YouTube. “I love watching Smosh Games, by the way. I’m a big fan of your work”, you couldn’t help yourself from blurting out. You cringed at yourself internally, you couldn’t be nonchalant in this moment if you tried.

“I'm a big fan of your work”, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, cheeks slowly reddening, but refusing to break eye contact.

“I’ve only been in one movie, Spencer”, you laughed, feeling a little less anxious to speak to him. He seemed to light up when you said his name, but you were sure you were imagining it.

“Yeah, but I bet you'll be in many more and I'll be a fan of those movies when they happen”, he explained as you felt your neck and face heat up. “Like I said, I have big plans for you.”

You guffawed in a way you were sure was unattractive, but Spencer was smiling at you nonetheless.

“You want to quit Smosh and become my manager?” You joked, nudging him lightly on the arm.

“I’m thinking about it”, his voice was low, you were pretty sure you were the only person in the room that could hear him. There was a quiet lull between you for a second as you stared at each other, smiling like idiots, eye contact magnetic, unable to look away. His grin was bordering on goofy when a familiar brunette practically jumped on him from behind.

“Hey, Spence! Hi, Y/N!” Angela greeted the both of you as Spencer regained his balance and Courtney trailed after Angela, joining the circle.

“We’re all so glad you could make it, Y/N”, Courtney gently rested a hand on your shoulder, “we’re grateful you could take time out of your schedule to come meet a bunch of strangers.”

You shrugged, “I was more than happy to come over. I’ve been watching Smosh for ages, so you guys don’t really feel like complete strangers to me, honestly.”

“Are you for real?” Angela stared at you with wide eyes, “you’re a fan of Smosh?” She leaned into Spencer, mumbling near his ear, “you totally have a shot, bud.”

He practically shoved her away as she giggled, directing her attention back to you. “I’m sorry, but he has not shut up about you since he watched Shuttlecock. You can ask anyone in the office and they’ll agree. He’s obsessed, so I’m just excited for him that you seem to like our content too.”

“Angela”, Spencer’s brow was furrowed, but you could tell he wasn’t mad, just embarrassed. That also made you feel embarrassed in turn, wondering if it was obvious how hot your face was as you thanked them. Your hand gently adjusted your hair as Courtney piped up.

“Yes, obsessed with your movie”, they gave Angela a pointed look that made her shut her mouth and nod along sagely. “He is definitely a big fan. So, you guys must have a lot to talk about. We’ll leave you to it.”

They gave you one last winning smile before basically dragging Angela away.

“Uhh..” Spencer scratched the back of his head, looking back at you, “ignore Angela, she gets post-shoot zoomies and says wild shit.”

You breathed out a laugh, you had calmed down significantly, feeling less like you were about to have a heart attack and more like you were just a little nervous while talking to your YouTube crush.

“I’m really, really happy you liked Shuttlecock”, your voice was barely above a whisper, sincere. You moved slightly closer so he could hear you. Instinctively, your hand gently grazed his forearm, a silent plea for him to see you were being genuine. Your eyes were glued to his again, your heart skipped a beat when he offered you a gentle, almost shy, smile. You felt like the air was especially warm in this corner of the set.

“I can’t believe you’re here”, his voice was quiet again too. He raised his eyebrows, it was as if he was in a daze. You had never seen him like this in any videos. “Angela was kinda right, frankly.”

“About which part?” The rest of the room became a blur to you, the sounds around you were muffled and distant sounding. All you could focus on was the man in front of you, cheeks pink and expression unguarded. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, no amount of stage fright compared to this feeling, like you were perched on a precipice, threatening to tip over and plunge into something unknown.

“That-”, he looked down, hesitating. His arm twitched like he wanted to reach out to you, but he stopped himself. “That I haven’t stopped talking about you since I saw the movie. I am a little obsessed, I guess. Oh man, I sound like such a creep.”

“No”, you quickly stopped him, “you do not sound like a creep. I think I’m the creep here, honestly.”

“How?” His shoulders shook a bit with humour.

“Because”, you took another step closer, probably the last one you could before it was a complete breach of personal space. Plunging into the unknown. “I have been watching you on YouTube for ages. I had to stop myself from screaming out loud when I saw you follow me. You have always made me smile when I’m having a bad day before you even knew me.”

He covered his face, you could tell he was laughing, ears beet red. It felt so good to fluster him like this, it gave you a rush you had to chase.

“I have had this huge YouTuber crush on you”, you continued, watching his face leave his hands to snap up look at you, astonished. “So imagine my surprise when I watch a new video from my favourite channel and my crush is talking about me.”

When you made eye contact with him again, time was suspended. The air was sucked out of your lungs as you took him in. His face was flushed, glasses a tiny bit askew, a couple strands of hair diverging from the rest to dangle down by his eyebrow. You were sure you looked a mess, your face was so, so hot. You adjusted your hair again.

The spell was broken when another staff member called Spencer’s name by the door, yelling something about being behind schedule. As you both looked away from each other, you felt like you had come hurtling back down to earth from floating through space. You hadn’t even realised most of the people that were loitering behind had all left.

“I, uh”, Spencer pointed back towards the door with his thumb, tone reluctant. His expression was still stunned, “I have to go, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry”, you shook your head, pushing down your disappointment. You knew you couldn’t keep him to yourself all day. “Duty calls.”

He remained for a few beats longer, just looking at you. Then the voice sounded again, more frantic this time, prompting him to scamper off, shouting a goodbye to you over his shoulder.

“I’ll message you later, can I message you later?”

“Yeah!” You were almost shouting so he could hear you as he got further away. He wanted to talk with you more, that sent a thrill through your body. “Yeah, you can!”

The last you saw of him was his hand waving as he was ushered out the door. You smiled and waved back, already missing his presence. You spoke with a few more people before you left, Emily Rose walking you to your car.

As you drove home, you were riding the high of a good time at Smosh HQ. You tried to focus on that and not the fact that you told Spencer he was your crush and he did not respond to that confession. In fact, he practically ran away. Pulling into your parking spot at your apartment building, you dropped your head as your car stopped, horn sounding as your head hit the wheel with a ‘thump’.

Focus on the positive, Y/N, you thought to yourself, you got to film at Smosh, that’s fucking amazing. You would have never expected that a year ago, in fact, you-

Your own thoughts were interrupted by your phone dinging multiple times.

You picked it up to check who was sending you so many messages and your heart stuttered in your chest. There were notifications from Spencer.

Spencer: ‘I’m SO SORRY, I had to run, but I wanted to tell you…’

Spencer: ‘I have a huge crush on you too. I honestly can’t stop thinking about you.’

Spencer: ‘I mean I kept talking about you after seeing your movie, but after meeting you irl today…’

Spencer: ‘I feel like I’m going insane, I’m so sorry for spamming you.’

You stared at your phone, your entire body warm, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Before you could reply, another ding from your phone.

Spencer: ‘I don’t normally act like a freak btw, I just don’t want to miss this chance.’

You laughed at his text, you felt like you were the freak here, sitting in your parked car grinning at your phone. You saw the little sign saying he was typing pop up and disappeared a few times before another couple messages came through.

Spencer: ‘You’re so out of my league, I was speechless when you told me about your crush on me earlier.’

Spencer: ‘Y/N. I would absolutely love a chance to take you out to dinner sometime. On a date. What do you say?’

You frantically typed a definite, ‘Y-E-S’, slamming your thumb down on the send button and throwing your phone like it was on fire. This time, you let yourself scream. A high-pitched, victorious one that sounded more like a screech. You saw a cat on a nearby fence jump in surprise and skitter away. You let your head drop down again and kicked your legs around the pedals out of giddiness. Your horn sounded through the car park a second time, covering the sound of your excited yell.

Silly, silly Spencer, you thought, if anything, he was the one who was out of your league.

✩

Tommy, Courtney, and Angela stood huddled together, holding their afternoon coffees and teas, whispering conspiratorially.

“He’s being so weird”, Angela muttered, the others hummed in agreement.

They were all watching Spencer, sitting at his desk and bouncing his knee at a speed nobody has ever bounced their knee before. He was texting someone, they had deduced, fingers flying across the keyboard. They were growing concerned, he was normally way more chill than this, seeing him seemingly write out an essay at record breaking speed was a new concept. His brows were drawn together, serious.

“Did something bad happen?” Concern laced Tommy’s voice, but they all continued to stare.

“No”, Courtney replied slowly, “I think this is his own personal, weird type of excitement.”

“Excitement?” Angela grabbed Courtney’s wrist with her free hand, “Oh my god, what if he’s texting Y/N?”

Courtney gasped at the idea while Tommy shook his head.

“No way, they were just here”, he reasoned, taking a sip of his drink, “he’s not brave enough to message them so soon, right?”

The other two silently stared at each other.

“I dunno”, Courtney’s tone was sing-songy, “they were getting pretty cozy before Y/N left, I actually wouldn’t be surprised if they messaged him.”

Their quiet discussion was interrupted by a ‘bang’ as Spencer abruptly kicked the side of his desk as he scrambled to stand up from his chair. He was staring down at his phone, reading something over and over again before throwing his hands in the air in silent celebration.

“Oh, oh, oh, something’s happening”, Tommy fluttered his hand around in a feverish way.

“Spence!” Courtney threw caution in the wind, calling out to him, “what happened?”

He turned to them in surprise, arms still in the air. A boyish smile broke out across his face, his excitement came off him in waves, everyone in the room feeling it.

“I’ve got a hot date, that’s what happened!” He exclaimed like he couldn’t keep it inside, like he had to tell them or he was going to explode.

“That’s my boy!” Angela cheered, the three of them clapping like he had just won a trophy. “Happy birthday, Spence!”

✩

Note: I hope you guys like this, I changed and rearranged it a bunch of times before I was happy with it lol. Let me know what you think! <3

♡ masterlist

[little-diable]

Best Birthday - Spencer Reid (smut)

After reading @lila-lou Jensen Ackles mini series I had to write something similar for Spencer. I am still thinking of this series so definitely go and read it!! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader turns 21 and all she could wish for was Spencer's touch, which he is more than eager to give to her

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, loss of virginity, some slight dom!Spencer, quite fluffy, heavy age gap, mom's best friend

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (2k words)

She barely listened to the way the team and her mother sang happy birthday for her. She barely focused on the cake being brought her way with a candle burning on top of it. All she could do was look at him, how the light of the candle alighted his handsome features, how he smiled at her with something one could only describe as pride. But there was something else lingering in his gaze, something reaching by far deeper as if he hadn’t ever dared to speak it out loud. 

“Thank you!” (Y/n) smiled at the others before blowing out the candle and closing her eyes for her wish. For weeks she had waited for this very day to arrive, knowing all too well what she’d wish for in that given moment. Ever since she had turned eighteen she had been searching for his closeness, eyes drawn to Spencer at any given chance, hands touching herself to the thought of him, and now she could only wish for him to do something about that clear tension between them. 

JJ began to cut the cake, handing out slices to the rest of the team while Spencer settled next to (y/n). Her breath hitched in her chest as he pressed his outer thigh against hers, closing the distance between them, and a small part of her couldn’t help but wonder if he had picked up on her wish. 

(Y/n) struggled to swallow her bites while feeling his eyes on her, grateful that the others were stuck in their own conversations. Her fingers trembled as they clung to her fork, hoping to calm herself to get a grip on the situation before Spencer could notice her clear nervousness. But she was a clear fool, of course he had noticed, he was a profiler after all, the smartest man she’d ever cross paths with. 

“Did you enjoy your day so far?” His raspy voice made her tremble, eyes not being able to ignore his intense gaze. (Y/n) only nodded with a soft smile before turning back to her cake, all too aware of her struggle to hide her truth from him. “You know, you have to be more careful if you don’t want your mom to pick up on what you’re thinking about.”

“What do you mean by that?” She froze, eyes wide, heart racing. A chuckle left Spencer as he took one last bite before leaning back in his chair. One hand combed through his locks while the other found her thigh beneath the table. For a moment his eyes wandered through the room, watching his family, their team, chat with one another. 

“It wasn’t that hard to figure out what you wished for.” No word left her. Nothing but a gasp which only made his smile widen. (Y/n)’s heart skipped a few beats, unable to find back to its normal rhythm as if Spencer’s words had pierced the strong muscle. Heat clung to her while she shook her head, desperately trying to find the right words. 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say here, Spence’.” (Y/n) had to get away, she couldn’t risk making a fool out of herself while the others were around and could pick up on whatever was lingering between her and Spencer all too easily. With shaking limbs she rose to her feet, picked up her plate and found shelter in the kitchen as Spencer’s rough chuckles echoed through the air. 

She hung her head, had her hands pressed to the kitchen island while trying to catch her breath. Her thoughts were racing, all over the place because of the way Spencer had made her feel. A part of her wanted to return to him, to ask what he was truly trying to communicate, but the bigger more stubborn part forced her to stay frozen to her spot. 

“(Y/n)? Is everything alright?” JJ entered the kitchen, concerned eyes watching her daughter. 

“Yes, sorry, I am just feeling a bit overwhelmed. I think I’ll go up to my room for a bit, if that’s alright?” Her mom stepped closer, hand finding hers to softly squeeze it. (Y/n) felt a wave of calmness flushing through her, making her racing heartbeat slow down. 

“Of course, I’ll call you down once dinner is ready, should be about an hour.” With a nod thrown her mother’s way, (y/n) disappeared out of the kitchen and made her way to her room. And yet she froze once again as she entered her safe haven, eyes focusing on the tall frame sitting on her bed. Spencer was looking at her with knowing eyes, taking in every inch of her frame before he patted the spot next to him. 

“The others will notice you’re missing, Spenc-,” it was nothing but a whisper, a sound getting stuck in her throat as he took her hand to interlace their fingers. 

“I told them I’ll go read for a bit, they won’t come looking for me anytime soon.” (Y/n) was stiff, posture tense as if she could no longer move. Only as his thumb began to stroke the back of her trembling hand did she dare look back at him, the handsome man she had been drawn to for years on end, a harmless crush which had turned into something more deadly than whatever Spencer and the team were confronted with on a weekly basis. 

“What are you doing here in my room?” Her voice was quiet and yet it trembled, unable to hide the uneasiness clinging to her. She had wished for a moment like this, a moment of closeness, a moment where their fingers were interlaced and their bodies were pressed together. And yet a part of her feared that the moment would end all too soon with a broken heart and a heavy knot in her throat. 

“You know, I tried to ignore the way you look at me. I told myself you’re way too young, you have so much ahead of yourself and I don’t want to risk you getting hurt or missing out on something because of me. But now you’re twenty-one and I see something else, something which doesn’t feel as wrong as it has for the past years.” His words stole the air right out of her lungs, forcing her pupils to widen while her hand tightened its grip on his. 

“I don’t understand,” she couldn’t keep speaking, not as his hand found her cheek to feel her soft skin pressed against his, not as his gaze found her lips. Spencer murmured her name, a silent chance to move away from him before there would be no going back, but (y/n) didn’t pull away. She met his lips with a hum, hand letting go of his to cup both his cheeks. The kiss was careful, slow, nothing but two people adjusting to one another as if they were sealing a bond standing the test of time. 

“I fear I am lacking the words to describe what I feel for you. But I would like to show you, if you’ll allow me to touch you.” (Y/n) kissed him again before crawling into his lap, finding shelter on his thighs. He was everywhere, surrounding her like a cloud wrapping itself around her with the scent of his cologne, with the way his hands found her back to hold her, with the way he was looking at her with nothing but love filling his pupils. 

“I was wishing for this to happen, for you to touch me. But I haven’t done this before, you have to tell me what to do.” She mumbled the words against his lips, breathless while experiencing something she could only describe like an out of body experience. He was leading her, pushing her down onto her mattress to hover over her, eyes glued to hers as if their bodies had been sewn together by fate gleefully dancing around them. 

“I will be careful, I promise. Tell me if you ever need me to stop.” His lips found their way down her throat as his fingers disappeared beneath her dress. (Y/n) gasped the second he touched her through the thin material of her panties, thumb finding her pulsing bundle. She fully gave in to the touch, allowing Spencer to do as he pleased while she could only lay there and thank her lucky stars for listening to her wish. 

“Can I take off your dress?” She only nodded, allowing him to undress her with a groan rumbling through him. Early in the morning she had put on her favourite pair of lingerie, praying for this to happen. And even though hours ago she had cursed herself for a foolish thought like that, she found a push of victory filling her as Spencer studied her with darkening eyes. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, baby.”

“Touch me, please, Spence’.” He only hummed, silently taking on the request with wandering lips and fingers. Skilled fingers kept circling her clit, pushing her faster towards the edge than she had ever managed to do herself, all while his lips kissed her breasts. Her chest was heavily rising and falling, telling him that he was doing everything she had ever hoped for, a touch feeling like a drug filling her system, instantly turning her into an addict. 

“Shit, baby, you feel perfect.” The words filled her room the second he pushed a finger into her, letting it curl to make her arch her back. He undoubtedly enjoyed seeing her like that, at his mercy, giving every part of herself to the man who should love her like a family member but ached for her like an ancient lover being awoken from his grave. “Talk to me, tell me how you feel.”

“Good, so good, but I want more, please.” (Y/n) almost felt embarrassed about her impatient whining, but the words seemed to do their job. Spencer pulled away from her to undress, allowing her wide eyes to study him while he fished a condom out of his wallet. Wordlessly she reached for it to open it with trembling fingers only to roll it down his cock as he let go of another groan. 

“This may hurt, tell me if you need some time to breathe, okay?” She nodded at his words, lips pressed against his as he slowly pushed into her. With her eyes pressed close, (y/n) allowed herself to get lost in the sensation, walls stretched around him, legs wrapped around his waist to keep him close. “Fuck, baby, you shouldn’t feel this good.”

He sank fully into her, lips kissing hers again and again to distract her from the stinging sensation. And yet she took in every second offered to her, hoping she’d never forget about this moment. Spencer moved slowly, he pulled out of her only to push in with some more speed, high on her quiet moans and whimpers. 

It felt as if he wasn’t just fucking her to give in to her wish, but as if he was proving to her that she belonged right there, right with him pressed against her. Their bodies belonged together, made for one another as if they had been born for this moment only. A moment so intense and raw, it could only be described as doing something overly right. 

“You’re taking me so well, I’m so proud of you.” (Y/n) scratched at his back, wordlessly replying to his praises. A loud moan rumbled through her, a sound echoing off the walls as if they were the only ones being at home. Spencer’s hand instantly found her mouth, mumbling something about having to stay quiet – words she couldn’t focus on. All she could do was give herself to him, every part of her, every inch of her body and soul.

And then she came, with her head thrown back, with her teeth buried in her lower lip. Spencer kept snapping his hips against hers, high on the feeling of her tight walls clenched around him. (Y/n) fought against the need to close her eyes, she wanted to keep watching him, wanted to look at Spencer falling apart all because of her. He followed her down the edge moments later, face buried in the crook of her neck to muffle his deep groan. 

“Best birthday ever.” (Y/n) chuckled the words as he threw away the condom, only to find his way back to her with a wide smile glued to his lips. He could only shake his head, eyes not daring to leave hers while their hands found one another again. And for the first time in years, she felt content enough to hold him, to stay pressed to his side as their bodies silently communicated through their strong heartbeats.

[vviolets444rroses]

— firefighter!rafe and one very proud kindergartner !!

based off of this request <3

“i’m sorry babygirl— stuck at the station today,” rafe sighs, cassie perched on the counter while rafe ties her laces. you watch from the doorway as you sip your water.

a small nod. a mumbled, “okay.”

“you remember uncle buck? you met him at the fire station cookout a while ago. i told him you’d be there, and he’s excited to see you.” he grins down at her, hoping to lift the mood. she gives a small, reluctant smile back.

he kisses you both before heading out the door, boots heavy on the steps. she watches from the steps of the porch, backpack on, chin resting in her hands as he drives away.

you knew the truth, though. rafe was gonna be there with buck. still, it broke your heart seeing cassie so bummed. you sat beside her, fixing her pigtails and bangs.

“he really wanted to come, sweetheart.” “i know… it’s okay. daddy’s out saving people.”

later in the day at the pre-k…

you showed up with snacks and juice boxes in hand. you wave at cassie from across the cafeteria and then go to mingle with the other parents.

a doctor and nurse showed the kids how to wash their hands. a dentist demonstrated brushing on a giant model. a police officer and his k-9 dog gave a quick demo of their search and rescue work.

you glanced at cassie every so often— she seemed to be enjoying herself. but you would also catch her staring at the door, hoping it was her dad walking through next.

after the police officer had walked off with his k-9, the cafeteria doors opened.

buck walked in first, waving at the kids with one hand and holding tank’s leash in the other. cassie immediately sat up straighter when she saw the big chocolate lab trotting beside him, in his own little uniform too.

all the kids cheered as the pair walked into view. cassie clapped but her eyes were already drifting behind him.

rafe stepped in a moment later, full uniform, helmet under one arm, light smile but even bigger when he spots his daughter among the group.

cassie was already on her feet, running straight into his arms as he crouched down. he hardly had any time to put down his helmet before he wrapped her into a big hug. “daddy!”

“you said you weren’t coming!” she giggles, holding her dad’s face in her tiny hands.

he shakes his head, “momma and i thought you’d like the surprise. did we get ya?” she nods with a cheek-to-cheek grin and hugged rafe once more before returning to her spot.

you watch from the back of the cafeteria as rafe and buck introduced themselves and tank the dog to the kids. there was no way anyone could wipe the smile off your face right now.

rafe sets his helmet down, gives tank a quick scratch on the head, and steps to the front of the crowd.

“who here knows what to do if your clothes catch on fire?” he looks around, but fast as ever, cassie shoots her hand up in the air.

“stop, drop, and roll!” cassie shout out loud. “that’s right,” he grins. “my girl’s got it.”

buck rolls out a mat and all the kids take turns practicing the fire safety technique. they talk about what tank does for the fire station and show them their gear.

when he wraps up, the class claps loudly and that was the end of the community helpers day. the kids all scramble out, but cassie is already in her dad’s arms, rambling about every bit. as if it didn’t just happen.

“hold on! i made daddy something. momma, where’s my backpack?” she asks with excitement. you hand her the backpack and rafe puts her down to let her search for whatever she made him.

she pulls out a drawing- stick figure rafe in his firefighter uniform, a big red fire truck beside him, and a lopsided tank in gear too. she even drew herself too, her tiny hand holding rafe’s. and a giant heart in the corner of it all.

he crouches down to her height, cheesing big. “this is perfect, babygirl,” he kisses her cheek. “i’m putting this in my locker first thing when i get back to the station.”

cassie turns to you, “do you like it, momma?” you smile, leaning in to look. “i think you made daddy look extra cool.”

“because he is,” she says simply.

rafe picks her up, letting her hang on his hip. his helmet under one arm and the drawing in his free hand. he glances over at you.

“we did good, baby.” he mutters.

you press a quick kiss to cassie’s cheek then one to his jaw, “we always do.”

—

—

a/n: this was so cutesy to make- thank youu for the request!! can you guys tell i am insane and have a type in firefighters... i've literally only written for them. i have other types but like i wouldn't know how to write them LOLOL :3 but please like/reblog if you want more, thank you my loves!

[thatbirdguyy]

I've heard social media talk about a Shadow spin-off. I'm not too against the idea, but I am saddened Tails couldn't get one or is even getting talk if getting one. I'd imagine if Tails would get a spin-off, maybe it would be some sort of Sonic and Tails one where we see their bond grow and/or see how more of an important part Tails is in Team Sonic? I'm not sure, but I would like to hear about your thoughts on it!

I like to share my thoughts sometimes, so thanks for the question!

I do am excited about the Shadow spin off, no worries. But I have to admit the recent lack of content around Tails has been scratching me on my heart lately and I'm not the only one who noticed it. Shadow is a very popular character, but the way his position is now next to Sonic and Knuckles irks me. He is supposed to be the lone wolf, only holding trust in his most powerful companions Rouge and Omega. In a competing game like Sonic Racing, I don't mind that, but seeing him team up with the others so casually and leaving out Amy and Tails by Sonic's side is like taking away a huge portion of what these characters were established within the connection to the main character.

Tails Lack of screen time is a alreday a huge portion. And that's even more wasteful since he's actually written so well in the movies. But popular characters are favoured and Tails isn't one of them. Knuckles stole the show. It made the movie very interesting nevertheless and it had its reasons to be here. But if we took a look at the storyboard, it wasn't planned the way it was for Tails at all but time crunch got in the way to full explore his character. Sonic movie 3 gave him a lot more screen time, but once again the majority of people only appreciated the Shadow moments. Tails was mainly the "go figure it out guy", which is a major part of his character but not necessarily the only thing he can do. Having him go jump from space to save Sonic was a great move to show his confidence, but again, the media only focused on Knuckles in that scene.

Tails simply lacks focus in the Sonic media's. If he does something great, it's always overshadowed by the more mundane characters, favoured by the community. If you want to fix this, you need to give Tails a moment without anyone else around. To show off his true potential and his growth, games, series, spin offs and so on. He's player 2 and he deserves his place near Sonic.

Its thanks to the 2010 ear thay Tails took such a downgrade in the favouritism, but with Sonic Frontiers win and its establishments for these Characters future, I hope to see Tails character shine more in future games. Now with Ian Flynn on board (who understands every character, especially Tails really good) I have zero worries that it'll not look good. I have hope that he could become a favourable influence for younger and older audiences, if writers would just give him the opportunity and chance to show off his skills and what makes him so beloved by others anyways.

I want the Tails series to explore his character more, his struggles in his past, how he learned about Sonic and came to him, how he learns about being part of a family. How he helps people around their village with his gadgets and talents and how even he needs to face a challenge more bigger than him without the help of his friends. His own enemy that he needs to take down in his own ways. I would love to help finalise this idea, maybe one day I get the chance to show off my knowledge about these characters in ways more than just for me.

[karikitdemonrp]

Kari looked up at Inuyasha and snorted slightly with a small grin. "Well, a reward is what someone likes." She chirped. "If you get something you don't like, it's not much of a reward." The child hummed softly and relaxed into the half demon.

"No, you're not a pillow. I just like cuddling with ya. It helps me feel safe at night." Kari closed her eyes to rest, her symbols slowly going dark as the barrier she made faded into nothingness. Even though her eyes were closed, she was still awake and listening to Inuyasha.

Hearing him say that he worried not because she was weak, but because she was still a kid who needed someone to have her back made her feel a sense of calm she hadn't felt before. It was comforting to know he was there for her, someone she could rely on for protection and some kind of comfort, even if it was a harsh comfort since Inuyasha wouldn't lie to her with pretty words. But she saw that as a good thing in a way. It was realistic and she appreciated that.

"Thank you, Inuyasha." She chirped and opened her eyes to look up at the half demon, giving him a warm smile.

-----

A few hours passed and Kari had gotten back up to practice making barriers like she was earlier. It was clear she was trying to find that feeling without having to make herself panic, trying to figure it out as best as she could. It was clearly a bit of a drain on her, but over time it wouldn't be as bad.

Eventually, while Kari was out of earshot, Akimitsu came back out, looking for Inuyasha and Kagome. Once he saw them he went over with a wave and a bitter sweet grin. The demi-god kept his voice low so Kari wouldn't hear. "I figured out what kind of demon she is." He whispered with a sigh, keeping an eye on the child so if she started moving towards them he could change the subject. "Kagome was right, one of Kari's parent's was likely a kitsune." He hummed softly. "So she is going to unlock abilities in relation at one point. So that's something you can prepare for. But for her deific abilities, those are a bit harder to pin point given her rank that and we don't know who her deific parent is."

Kagome tilted her head a bit. "What does rank have to do with it?"

"Well, how do I put this..." Akimitsu sighed in thought. "Well, low rank deities have more specific domains which are tied to their abilities, but higher ranks are more vague in their domains, making their abilities more difficult to determine. The goddess of the sun has a lot of abilities that you wouldn't initially think of because her domain is so vague. Kari's deific abilities are probably like that because of the vagueness of that rank." He muttered softly in thought. "If you'd like to try and communicate with the souls in Kari's scarf to get more answers then I can point you in the direction of a friend, but I'm not sure about her seal. But my guess is if the souls are still around then maybe they can re-make the seal. Just as long as the seal isn't fully broken."

Kagome hummed in thought and sighed. "What about Kari? If we speak with those souls then would there be consequences for her?"

Akimitsu thought for a moment. "I can't say. Maybe speaking with one at a time so the seal doesn't fully fade while you speak with them. I also can't fully say if Kari will take it well, but you'll need to tell her everything some time. Not only that but I've given you all the information I have right now and you clearly have more questions that need to be answered. But it's your choice to make." He sighed and Kagome nodded.

"Right, thank you. We'll think it over. Now that we have that do you mind if we stay here for the night after we deal with the demon causing problems?" Kagome asked and Akimitsu blinked then shook his head.

"I don't mind. I have a spare room so you can use that. But you should be careful, she can probably sense Kari and knows about her." He informed, looking at the forest. "She's a tree demon after all, her roots go pretty far." He informed and stretched slightly. "The demon is pretty well hidden, but she's the only camellia tree that looks healthy in here, surrounded by dead ones so it shouldn't be too hard to find her." With that Akimitsu moved to head back inside. "I'm going to write everything down so you have all the information I've told you by the time you plan on leaving. I'll even write down where you'll find my friend incase you want to go give him a visit." He informed then went back inside.

Kari was still trying her best to make stronger and stronger barriers with Shippo cheering her on, both blissfully unaware of what Akimitsu told Kagome and Inuyasha. Kagome sighed softly, thinking about everything Akimitsu just said. "A kitsune that was a great demon, kinda like your dad..." She muttered softly, her eyes narrowing in thought. "And a deity who's abilities are super vague due to what their rank was... They met and had Kari... Who knows how strong Kari'll end up being. It's kinda worrying. A child with so much power... She could get seriously hurt or get in over her head or something." Kagome pinched the bridge of her nose and gave a slight grumble.

"On top of that we have a way of getting more information but at the risk of the seal that's been keeping Kari safe. Though, not a big risk since those souls can still remake the seal maybe... But it's still a risk nonetheless." The teenager looked at Kari and Shippo, letting out deep sigh to relieve the building worry. "I'm not entirely sure what to do..."

Inuyasha blinked as Kari settled beside him, leaning into his side like he was the safest thing in the world. He gave a quiet grunt in acknowledgment but didn’t move away—if anything, his shoulder shifted just a little closer so she’d have more support.

“Tch. You really think snuggling with me’s a reward or somethin’?” he muttered, giving Kagome a sideways glare that lacked any real heat. “What am I, a damn pillow?”

But even as he grumbled, his ears twitched toward Kari when she spoke. He glanced down at her, saw the juice box in her hand, her sleepy posture, and that quiet determination buried under her exhaustion.

His expression softened just a little.

“…I ain’t worried about you ‘cause I think you’re weak,” he said, voice lower now—not gentle, exactly, but solid. “I worry ‘cause you’re a kid. And kids… they need someone watchin’ their back until they can do it themselves.”

His eyes flicked to the fading glow of the barrier she’d made earlier.

“You got a long way to go. But you’re tryin’. That’s what matters. Just don’t think you gotta rush it.”

[bitchesgetriches]

Do you have any advice for making good money/living a good financial life when the field you're in has a relatively low average wage, and you need a specialized/graduate degree for it? I work in the library field, specifically a public library, which requires a Master's for any full time position that pays decently, with most (*most*-some positions in tiny little villages or towns pay absolute peanuts, some in big cities pay a little more) positions averaging $40-$60k a year for a full time job. I've definitely made a whole lot less begorez so I know it's not nothing, but I'm also not in a private field where there's the opportunity to "climb the corporate ladder" or regularly receive promotions and raises and apply most of the standard advice on raising my salary, and there is definitely a soft ceiling on how much the average person in my (underpaid, overworked) public service/city government sector position can earn. I'm never going to be a high earner and will probably always have an "average" income, sinply because of how my field is (not) paid-so how can I live a good financial life in spite of that?

First of all, we love you. All librarians, really, but also you specifically. You are a wise, rational, and levelheaded baby bitchling and you're doing a valuable service to our community and our world. Please don't give up on being a librarian.

Second: you're right! You're probably not going to be swimming in cash! So I think the first two steps are these:

Define what it means to you to live a "good financial life." Is it owning a home? Having enough time off to pursue your hobbies? Traveling often? Eating good, nutritious food? Being able to support children? Define it for YOU, no one else. From there you can build a plan.

Be intentionally frugal with your limited funds. I don't just say "live frugally," because that means something different to everyone. But being INTENTIONALLY frugal means spending according to your values, needs, and interests. Some people say pets are a waste of money, other say they are a requirement for living a happy and healthy life, and therefore essential spending. So figure out your values and priorities, and spend accordingly.

This is what we recommend to EVERYONE. But for you I'd make two additional steps:

3. Move. Carefully research the cost of living against your earning potential and use that to find a job + home situation that stretches your money further. This literally might mean switching neighborhoods, or living with a family member, trusted friend, or romantic partner. Or it might mean moving to Wyoming and becoming an active member in the democratic socialist party of Laramie! But be open to this option.

4. Get a side hustle. I hate this reality, but it's literally becoming not optional these days to have multiple income streams.

But please, keep being a librarian. We fucking need you.

Anybody else have advice for our dear librarian here?

The Library Is a Magical Place and You Should Fucking Go There 

Season 4, Episode 8: "I’m Queer, and Want To Find an Affordable Place To Retire. How Do I Balance Safety With Cost of Living?" 

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[mamawasatesttube]

THE PEOPLE ARE CRYING OUT FOR A LOIS LANE AND TIM DRAKE CONTENT PLS I NEED UR THOUGHTS (obviously i dont its more for the dramatics of this message but also youve infected me wirh worms in my head bcz i was on my way to create content for journalist!tim since it. it makes sense? like yeah if he ever decides to stop being a vigilante or in a world where he isnt hed 100% become a journalist??? but then i stumbled upon ur posts on how similar tim and lois r and..ur right?? busy bodies who will push their way into ur business its their way or the highway like yeah thats them)

yeah!! ive written one fic abt them but its barely scraping the surface of how much i think lois is involved in tim's future tbh. i'm a firm believer in tim post rr09 eventually having a really nasty sepsis incident after a minor injury (like, he got bitten by a cat or something) that nearly kills him, and forces him to grapple with the reality of immunodeficiency as disability - that there are things that he can no longer do, things that he used to be able to do without question and that are now out of his reach. (this is also a major tim & babs arc, to me.) it's rough because he's in denial for a hot minute because vigilanteism has consumed so, so much of his life that he wants to cling to it, because he doesn't know who he is without it... but also vigilanteism is a really good way to end up with wounds that have a high chance of getting infected. such as getting bitten by five billion rats in a tunnel under gotham. or mucking around in the sewers. or hanging out in a cave full of bat guano. et cetera.

enter lois lane!! during this arc of trying to figure out what direction he can take his life in, tim is spending a lot of time brooding (he's had some minor spats with kon about kon feeling overprotective and fussy ever since his major sepsis incident; he's had some Far More Nasty Fights with cassie about the same thing. after all the horrors, cassie is not normal about the idea of losing tim. at all). so when lois makes an offhand comment about how she'd take interns if they made interns like tim, he's like ...wait. really? and some of the sparkle starts to return to his eyes.

(scene smash cuts to tim and lois leaping out of a helicopter five seconds before it explodes, and supernova catching them only to turn to superman in horror because kal. there's two of them now.) okay so maybe this isn't as risk-free as a desk job, but danger is the spice of life, right? hey! tim is having a great time here!

and it's like. i don't think he ever fully retires from heroics or anything; i think he honestly ends up kind of apprenticing with john henry irons and becoming a superhero community gadget guy, maybe does a red tornado stint and helps train hero kids in the next generation. but his day job is journalism with lois. they are both snooping and sneaking around. lois teaches tim how to work a source without having to resort to intimidation. tim teaches lois to use a grapple gun. lex luthor will never know peace again. life could be a dream.

[cassi0pei4]

Gilded Age E4-8 Spoilers and Speculation

Spoilers from episode summaries, interviews and press reviews below:

Episode 4: Marriage Is a Gamble

With the wedding between Gladys and the Duke imminent, Bertha must deal with unwanted rumors in the press, the sudden arrival of her sister Monica, and an unwilling bride. After giving a talk in Newport, Peggy and her mother encounter the aloof Mrs. Kirkland. Meanwhile, a grieving Ada attempts a new way to communicate with Luke, and Borden learns more about Mrs. Bruce's past.

My guess is that this episode ends with a probably tearful wedding of Gladys to the duke. The bigger question is whether "I can fix this" (first still) is in this episode or another. To me it feels like it's pre-wedding and the thing Bertha's fixing is the wedding/engagement, but impossible to know.

Episode 5: A Different World

Gladys has trouble adjusting to her changed circumstances…and the controlling Lady Sarah. After a string of personal and professional wins, Larry runs into a familiar face. While at an event with Dr. Kirkland, Peggy gets an opportunity from an old colleague. Later, drama ensues at Mrs. Fish's Newport luncheon.

Very few frames seem to fit with this episode and the next -- perhaps because they'd be too spoiler-y to be seen so early. I'm guessing this image is Gladys at her new home with her bags being delivered on that carriage. If I had to guess, I'd also say the drama that ensues is Bertha bringing Aurora to the luncheon. Now that Gladys is married, it's time to transition to Bertha's 2nd half plot, of normalizing society for divorced women/being more feminist.

Episode 6: If You Want to Cook an Omelette

While Bertha encourages Gladys to stand up for herself and her new husband, George faces an upward battle to secure the rail line that runs through Chicago. Larry gains intel that leads Oscar to have a long-awaited confrontation – but raises doubts for Marian. Later, Peggy confides in Dr. Kirkland about her past, and Ada has a candid talk with Jack about his future.

No stills fit into this episode, but in an interview Taissa says that she and Bertha are more aligned from ep 6 onwards, so this tracks. If I had to guess, this episode has George entirely in Chicago. The nightclub is presumably where Larry learns something that allows Oscar to see Maude again, as him visiting it would also raise doubts for Marian.

Notable absences here: nothing about McAllister, nothing about the "act of violence."

Episode 7 - Ex-Communicated

No episode summary of this one yet, but given the title I'm guessing this is when McAllister's book is published. @mydaylight figured out that the dress in the trio photo is the same one Bertha is wearing in George's library looking sad, so I'm guessing he returns from Chicago and they have some argument, perhaps related to the book.

If I had to guess, I'd say this episode ends with George being shot, as leaked by Carrie (lol) in the interview I posted about earlier and involving this panicked run.

Episode 8 - My Mind Is Made Up

No summary, but lots of press about what to expect in the finale.

I'm guessing these images are from the ball mentioned here:

Things hit maximum impact when Bertha sends invites to the season’s most fashionable ball to three women who have boldly severed ties with their husbands."

As ever, Baranski nails the biggest laughs. “What’s next,” she opines, surveying the ball, “a cotillion for divorcees? A high tea for unwed mothers?” Let’s hope so. But before that a shocking act of violence shatters the pampered lives of these plumed avatars of excess and their outmoded punishments for conduct unbecoming. And suddenly “The Gilded Age” breaks out of the prison of cozy nostalgia, finding a kinship with the urge to challenge rules that crush the human spirit.

Then we get this agonizing series of reviews:

The season’s only misstep comes in the finale, when the growing tension between George and Bertha builds to a climax that is somewhat confounding and — in this viewer’s opinion — out of character for George. The revelation feels particularly tacked on in an episode that’s otherwise filled with glamour (two balls!), a romantic proposal, and hard-fought social victories. - link

Coon centers the entire series with a fierce, at times volcanic, Emmy-worthy performance, and the season’s final shot takes your breath away. To say more would spoil the surprises in store. -link

Most intriguing, by the end of the season, “Gilded Age” seems like it’s wrapping up some storylines, particularly romantic couplings, that built through three seasons. It feels like the show is getting ready to conclude as it brings back multiple characters from the show’s past. But then the final scene in the eighth episode undoes that neat bow, almost as if an HBO exec said, “Hey, not so fast, we may want to order a fourth season, give us a cliffhanger!” -link

The eight-part series climaxes with – how else to put this? – a pair of balls. These sumptuous set pieces play host to reconciliations and reprisals, proposals and engagements. If there isn’t a soppy smile on your face by the time the credits roll, I’ll eat my hat. Although it might take a while. - link

If I had to guess (and I hate this) we get a happy-ish scene at the ball, and then George retires to his room only to tell Bertha that evening something like, "while recovering I realized that I don't know if I can be with you anymore," and that leaves a cliffhanger for a S4 exploration of separation/divorce/reconciliation. How, precisely, that leaves anyone with a "soppy smile" is beyond me, but that's my guess/protective construal.

Quotes we get at some point:

“I don’t blame you for being ruthless. I admire it. It’s what we share,” George tells Bertha in one scene. “But I’m ruthless in business, not with the people I love.”

and

“I don’t blame you for being ruthless,” George tells Bertha in a stretch that leaves their shared future uncertain. “I admire it. It’s what we share.”

“Winning in business and winning in society are linked,” she tells her husband a quarrel that precedes that things-we-can’t-unsay blowout. “We are facing a very public defeat!” Later in the season, she announces: “Men are forgiven for their indiscretions and women are punished. It’s not fair.”

It’s the same, suffocating propriety that causes George, when he really loses his temper with Bertha, to seethe, “You are as pristine as a Raphael fresco!”

[kiragecko]

Things I find interesting about my fandom in 2025:

(I've been in the DC fandom since 2009)

people who have ignored the last 14 years of continuity still uncomfortably cohabitating with people who have only read the new continuity, and both sides not really understanding each other. Both groups trying to figure out how to handle the no continuity at all group. All of us trying to use the same tags while we write/read about characters that sometimes only share names with each other.

The short memory of fandom. The VAST majority of the fics that get submitted to my rec blog are from 2021 or later. At least a quarter are from 2025. We don't seem to be circulating classics, anymore, which is very different from the culture a decade ago!

the loose group of Batkid gen hurt/comfort writers who are out there mostly remixing each other's works. Every once in a while, they add a new plot into the ecosystem. Vastly different ratings, sometimes, but very similar tones. It's just SUCH a different environment from the rest of the fandom! I really enjoy them. and the sense of community they seem to have.

how social-media AU writers ALSO seem to form a loose group, and build off of each other, rather than canon. The epistolary format seems like it would appeal to a much broader range of creators, and I find it really interesting that the reality is so different.

the vast, polarized camps of the NO BATCEST fans and the JayTim fans. The vicious and mean-spirited battles they engage in. How I can be enjoying a story, and suddenly hit an authour's note telling me I'm a gross freak, and then I go on to the next chapter and ... there was no reason for the note? The plot is about nothing even closely related? Baffling.

The continued evolution of fanon Jason Todds. He's become so many fascinating characters, and I really enjoy watching it happen. Canon gave us so much junk, and fans have sifted multiple different precious metals from it!

The incredibly strong opinions about Slade Wilson. Readership just DIVES when he shows up in a recced fic! I find it really funny.

-

The fandom feels a lot more lively than it did in, say, 2019. There are pockets of beautiful stuff happening. I'm noticing a greater variety of characterization, which I really appreciate.

But I'm putting in more effort to avoid toxicity. I'm still MOSTLY keeping my dash from from people outright attacking each other, but I keep finding people who do it casually, just as a part of the fandom experience.

I enjoy being a DC fan. I don't think we're a HEALTHY fandom, right now, but I think we could be. I think there's a lot of good here.

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Enhypen's Healing Messages/What Can They Heal and Work Through

Disclaimer: No facts, all alleged. This is my interpretation of the cards and energy I work with.

Okay, so I wanted to do a series that is a bit more uplifting and softer for these idols. I do like the shadow's sides and the tea, but girl likes mixture and doesn't like things to be too dark all the time. I feel as humans we are all on a healing journey, so I just wanted to show awareness to what these idols may need to heal at this moment. I did this type of reading a year ago, but energies shift fast and this time I will pull more cards, so I will start with this group, and do my other faves and continue with other groups I want to do for this. Anyway, this reading can give you a bit more insight into their world and what is happening with them.

Heeseung

He's got some interesting spread here, so right off the bat. He has Horse Spirit and Peacock Spirit. The card keywords are freedom is yours and let it shine. Honestly, this kind of gives me he may need to shine on his own and do solo work, like from what I got from him in the past as being an idol or maybe in this group could hold him back a bit. These two cards are telling him to work on being himself, and to let go of limiting beliefs he has about himself.

Guides are telling him he's got to spread his wings and show himself more. I don't think he is showcasing his true talents and gifts, or his authentic self to be honest, and he is held back from doing it. Now what he does is up to him, but these cards are basically saying, go for it! You have the capability to shine on your own, or for him to just show his talents more. Now, I have a card that states, I am worth more than what I believe, ouch that hurts to see and he probably needs to hear that, so he would need to work on healing his self-worth. This is something I am working on as well, so get it.

I just keep hearing, self-limiting beliefs repeatedly. He just struggles to believe he is talented enough to shine on his own, or to showcase his gifts more often. So, he would need to take baby steps to get to where he wants to go. To not overdo things and do things in big chunks, but to take things bit by bit. That can help him reach where he wants to go. He is being guided to learn that things are not linear, and the things cycle, you may move forward but sometimes have backsteps, but that does not infringe on your process. It is the cycle of life, so he may struggle to understand that. I do see a perfectionist energy in him he may need to heal and work through as well.

I do see something about anger and frustration with others for three cards here. It seems he struggles to understand that there isn't just one way to do things and that everyone is on their own journey in life and need to figure things out on their own, so he may be the type that gives advice to others and expects them to do it the way he does things, but he has to understand that everyone's journey is different, and because he doesn't, he gets angry at those who do not follow the right path in his eyes. I used to struggle with this when I was less awakened on my journey, so he may mature out of this mindset.

He would need to heal his leadership qualities. His ability to take the lead, stand confident and communicate effectively and boldly. He may struggle to do this. Because he doesn't stand in his power and take the lead he may struggle to be as successful as he can be. We end with the snake energy. This is about shedding one's skin, I was called to read the guidebook and a phrase states, reveal your true colors and share your gifts and talents to the world! So, we end where we began.

What he strongly needs to heal is beliefs he isn't good enough and talented enough to shine his true self on to others. And now I am being pulled back to what I got from him in his perspective reading, that children should be seen, not heard, is what I think I said, anyway, that gives me he was always conditioned to silence his true nature as a child and that still lives on today. Also, he needs to shed parts of him and thoughts that no longer serve him. Okay, this went on longer than I expected, but it wasn't really draining to do his, also I relate to his messaging so much, besides the anger part with others, but the other parts fit with what I need to heal as well. Anyway, this was interesting. Excited to get to the others, but this one will be a bit of a long one.

Jay

Oh, his is really interesting to me. So, looking at this spread I am getting that other people's opinions weigh on him a lot, so this is something he may need to work on healing. So, I will start with the one card that speaks to me most for him. Now, he is a public figure, so this is one he may struggle with most. He seems to take attacks on him personally, now this can be public, with the company and the members, but it seems he struggles to see that opinions people have of him is just a projection of themselves and not him. This is something we all struggle with, or majority of people struggle with, but this seems to be a point of contention for him and something he may need to work on healing and working through at this moment.

He also got a card that states, act as if, so I think he does try to show he doesn't give af, but also this card may tell him to not give af as much as he does. I also think he needs to work on adapting to different situations and being open to try new things. For being an idol you have to take on different types of personas and he may struggle with that. He might need to work on not being one-dimensional, as we are multi-dimensional beings he should infuse this behavior into his life, maybe work on being more open-minded to things. He might want to release that stubborn energy he may have.

He might need to work on being more of service to others and helping others more. These cards kind of give me he can be selfish, or maybe he doesn't nourish himself enough, or love himself enough to help those he can help. It is like if he struggles to fill his own cup. It is very hard for him to fill the cups of others. So, guides are telling him to nourish himself first before tending to other's needs. I do feel for his healing journey. It is important for him to be around others and get support from others. But he may struggle to do that and prefers to handle things on his own. I struggle with this too but learning to heal this part of me too, so this is something he should work on healing as well.

There is fear and stress he does deal with that he will need to heal work through, as this is the case for most people. There is also this fear of the unknown for him and this inability for him to take risk and do things he doesn't know what the outcome will be. This is what majority of humans face, so he deals with the same struggles. There is this lack of trust and faith he has in things. There is this struggle for him to step into unknown territory, so guides may want him to have faith more and to trust the unknown.

I feel guides would want him to open up to his intuition more and to not be stuck in logic and limited beliefs. Once he opens himself up to his intuition and inner guidance, he can find more peace and tranquility. They are also guiding him to meditate more and find peace through the storm, which is hard I know, just relaying a message.

Jake

Seeing some stuff that makes me sad for him. I have a card that states, sing your own song, so I am wondering if he wants to release another song or cover, but this card can also be guiding him to learn to be his more authentic self and to share his voice more towards others. I see him being shy of sharing himself to others or his talents, more so regarding singing. I do feel he is afraid of showing his true self to others, due to being judged, or that they may think he is too different, so he kind of hides himself and becomes more of what people want him to be like.

He may struggle to see the beauty in life, the good, the plenty. He may have this feeling of lacking abundance and success in his life, maybe on an individual level, obviously as a group he may see it, but for himself he may not see the treasure and talents he has. So maybe this is where this fakeness and manipulative energy comes from with him as he may not feel his true self is good enough, so fake it until you make it is what I just heard with him. I am not sure why I am getting with this card that as a child he may have not been protected enough or cared or loved enough. Which is why this man may not know what real love is.

I do feel he can be easily influenced by toxic people around him and behave the way they do, and let me tell you there are a bunch of toxic aholes in the industry, sorry I feel that way, anyway, this may lead him stray from his authentic self, or he struggles to have boundaries and to shield himself from that. Now, how he behaves is up to him. I am just sharing why he may behave a certain way. I see it stems from not loving himself and valuing himself enough. I see him having issues with his body, or this could indicate him just struggling to love himself wholeheartedly, like all aspects of himself. He may have flaws about his body that he struggles to accept. Don't we all. But that seems to be a point of contention for him to heal at this point.

I feel he should have a better support system around him. I do not think his family is a strong and loving support system for him, which is why he might struggle to find people around him who truly have his back and why he can't be his authentic self towards others. Oh, I got something interesting here and now I can see why this dude is hypersexual anyway.

What I get here is he has an imbalance of sexual and creative energy. I am seeing strong sacral energy here with him, which has to do with sexuality, but also creativity as well, so because Jake is not confident in his creative ability. He pours it all into sex, so your sexual energy can go into sex or creative outlets, and it seems he is only confident in pouring it into sex rather than creating something, so that is why there is this impulsive need to have sex, because he is not putting it into creative outlets.

If he is able to be more confident in his creative abilities, and put energy into that, than the need for sexual release would dim down, oh wow, that makes sense, and wild to get this information, so I will end on this note for him. Glad my guides, or his cleared all this up, I found that information helpful and hopefully this reaches him on a soul level, and comes to his conscious awareness, put more energy into creating something Jake! lol Let me stop.

Sunghoon

I just always find it funny that he gets cards about spirituality and he just doesn't give off that vibe. He seems hyper logical and maybe that is what they want him to lean into is his intuition and spirituality more. To learn to follow his inner compass. He should lean into trusting his nudges and what he is pulled towards, instead of trying to rationalize everything, if he does that it will keep him stuck.

Okay, so he did get a card that shows he has to stop focusing on external validation and needs to find success. That where he will find true abundance and happiness is from within, if he continues to look outside himself, looking to money, a right partner, his physical looks, to sex, to material success in the 3d to find that happiness he is trying to seek he will always get disappointed, because that is not where he will find happiness.

That will not make him love himself or see his worth unless he goes within himself. It seems he needs to work on his desire to fulfill things externally and do the inner work and heal. It seems he thinks healing happens outside himself and that a shiny object or material thing will heal his wounds and that is not the case. So, it seems like he ties himself into trauma bonds or toxic attachments with others, situations or things. He gets tied to things he should release out of his life. It is like he may find comfort in the trauma or toxicity, because that may be what he has always been surrounded by. He was probably never giving love, tenderness, kindness and support in his life, so he struggles to form healthy bonds with others.

I see he may struggle to deal with criticism. He may downright ignore it, or he silences his criticism towards others, or he is blind to criticism. He can also be hyper critical of others or himself. Either way he may need to heal his wounds around criticism. He may have also been criticized a lot as a child, so there is that as well. He may struggle to trust himself and his decisions. This could be why he seems super reliant on his Mom from what I have seen. So, he may struggle to trust himself, so he would need to work on having trust in his abilities to make decisions for himself. He may have always been taught to just do what you are told and to not be his own person.

He needs to just allow his emotions to move through him. I feel he may just repress his emotions. I just hear, real men don't cry. This is faulty thinking, let me say. So, because he represses his emotions. He will struggle to validate his feelings, and he will believe how he feels is wrong, which doesn't allow him to heal, so he should learn to allow himself to feel his emotions. This could allow him to understand his emotions more clearly if he allows them to show up.

He would need to work on bringing more passion and creativity to his life. To work on doing things that excite him more, instead of just doing what he feels he needs to do. He would need to go after what ignites his passion and brings a spark into his life, so I feel this man needs a lot of healing, and I am honestly not sure he would do the work to heal, maybe he will prove me wrong, but I get the vibe from him that he wouldn't want to do the inner work and heal to be honest, but hey, people evolve. But very interesting messaging from his end.

Sunoo

Interesting to see him get the Deer spirit, as I felt he encompasses this energy, but I feel for Sunoo right now he lacks a diplomatic approach with others. He could be in this stubborn energy, of not wanting to listen to others, and maybe being combative towards others, so he may need to heal how he communicates with others right now. To be a bit gentler and patient with others and offer kind advice. He may not always offer the kindest advice I am getting. I am just getting he may need to work on being more diplomatic.

I feel his guides may want him to clear his energy field, as it may be convoluted. It seems he is someone who can access the akashic record and channel from the ethers messages and download, but it seems what he does in the 3d blocks that channel, so they would want him to clear that out. I am not sure what that is, but that is what I get.

His guides would want him to work on planning things better. Scheduling things out, making time for him to do things. He may be someone that pushes back important things and doesn't make time to do the things that can be beneficial to himself, so they would want him to make time for that. They also want him to transmute his anger into creative outlets or to things that can benefit him, maybe motivate him to get something done. He could handle anger in a non-beneficial way, and they may want him to work through that better.

His guides want him to heal accepting what is and to stop fighting or resisting change or things he may not want to do. I just see him wanting to change things, but he may very well want to change his situation or people, this may have to do with people to be honest. But he should learn no one can change someone. You learn to accept them for who they are, or leave them behind. Once he accepts the situation. Peace will come. If he continues to resist what is, then anger and frustration will persist.

He should choose the path that can lead him towards positive changes. That leads him forward and helps him progress. He may struggle to make the right decisions of how to move ahead. This can be due to him being blocked from his intuition or inner guidance. It is like he struggles to make the right decision. He would need to learn to see the magic in life and open himself up to opportunities.

To see the magic within himself, and that anything is possible if he puts his mind to it. It seems him and others have a hard time seeing that. He does need to work on grounding himself. To work on making things happen in his reality and to do the groundwork. To find abundance in his life and his own success. Logic, planning, creating and harvesting are important to him on his healing journey at this moment.

Jungwon

So, I feel me and Jungwon are like energetic twins and I was wondering if his cards of healing would be similar to what I need to heal and I am seeing lots of similarities lol anyway, thought that was funny. So, this first card is like a manifestation card. Upper Side Dreamin' is popping up in my head and if you read the song lyrics it would make sense. So, his guides would like him to create his reality. To make his dreams a reality. He is the creator of his reality, as we all are, so he would need to work on that gift of his. His guides would want him to give in to divine timing and power. To let go of control and to just let things unfold as they should.

He might need to transmute addictive thought patterns. Thought patterns that keep him stuck in loops. It is time to heal these thought patterns and to find new ways of thinking or transform this thinking into more positive outlets. To let go of this bubble of control and to allow things to move freely through him. This one card I am hearing the song, Listen to your Heart by Roxette, so he should listen to his intuition. To learn to open up more and be more vulnerable. To learn to communicate more from the heart and from an authentic place.

It seems he keeps himself under lock and key and he may need to work or he is being guided to open himself up or free himself up a bit more. To allow himself to be more of himself in front of others. There is this need for him to let go of control, limitations, stubbornness, arrogance etc,. To not allow his ego to get in the way of what is in his heart and how he feels. The ego keeps us stuck but following what your soul wants is what can lead him to true peace and freedom. This is a time for him to bask in the success and happiness he may be feeling. A time to take action and create and to embrace the abundance and success around him.

I also feel he may need to be outdoors more or in the sun more, maybe go for walks, that could be good for his spirit and soul. I see two cards about him needing to follow the inner guidance within himself. To follow where he is being nudged towards. He is being spiritually guided towards the path he is supposed to be on, and that following this inner guidance will lead him to better things for his personal journey in life.

He should learn to follow his own path and to not follow others and to learn that every journey is different and that if he follows a different path or if others follow another path, no one is wrong, they are just on a different journey than him, so he will need to work through not needing the validation from others and needing their permission to follow what he wants to do, and that him following a different path isn't wrong or bad.

Riki

Okay, final member, let's go. So, he starts with Stag spirit. This about being confident of taking center stage and leading the charge, so he may need to heal this energy. He may struggle to be confident with himself and struggle to assert his dominance and power. He has the capabilities to be a dominant force, but struggles to act in this energy.

He would need to work on being strong, bold and courageous. He may need to take some time to himself. To find a place that could bring him peace, maybe take a hot bath, or soak in water, but it seems he struggles to find ways to find those little moments of peace. He may have a lot of inner turmoil within him and struggles to cope and find peace in times of quiet and stillness.

He may have a lot of childhood wounds he struggles to deal with. He may struggle to connect with his past self as well. He may not know how to connect with his past self or who he was. He might be going through an identity crisis, of not knowing who he is now and if that reflects who he was back then. There might be some mommy wounds he may need to work through and heal. It is like what he thought was good in the past. Might not be as great as he thought it was. There is this level of maturity and awareness he is starting to see.

It seems he is trying to recover from the past, or move on from it, and trying to find or seek positive changes in his life. He wants to move towards something better for him. It is like he wants to move in a different direction. Why do I feel he wants to move somewhere else too. I will be real, he gives off the energy of I don't want to be here, and I want to go somewhere else. He would need to heal this energy around pushing too hard and trying too much or putting too much energy into things and to learn to just let things flow.

It does seem things are shifting for him. Times have changed and he is trying to adapt. His guides are guiding him to trust the talents he has and that will lead him to where he needs to go. That his skill will help him along during these difficult times. I am not sure why I hear, he needs to maneuver swiftly, but okay. But he has the ability to adapt and shift is how I see this.

It seems things are a bit difficult and challenging for him right now, so guides would like him to find ways to clear out negative energy and thoughts and to repel that negativity away from him as he can get consumed by it. Also, he is being asked to write down or think about things that are good or positive things that are in his life, so he could focus his energy on that, rather than the negative that he may be consumed by at this moment. It can help swing his energy towards positivity and hope.

Okay, that is all, this was a pretty long one, but it was fun to dig into and I feel I got some interesting messages here.

[transboyswitchytales]

I Am A Small Creature Swallowed Whole By A Monster

Chapter 14 : "Heaven will be no heaven to me if I do not meet my wife there." -Andrew Jackson

Warnings : Mommy Kink / Daddy Kink / DARK END / Gore and Hurt / Fighting / Plot Plot Plot / Violence / Witch fight / Dog hurt / Lies and Deception/ Owie ahead / Angst / Salem Seven / Poor Everyone / Gore / Afterlife Talk / Religion Talk / Hurt and Angst / Nursing Kink / Breastfeeding kink / Guilt / Lovecraft sucks I know fuck him/ Healing Slowly Medical Talk / Telepathy Familiar Bond Mind Communication / PTSD/ Familiar Witch Magic AU/ MDNI 18+

CATCH UP ON SMALL CREATURES READ HERE

Seriously, you aren't gonna get it if you try to read it from here first!

MasterList Small Creatures MasterList. AO3

@warpdrive-witch A deal is a deal. Thank you Mommy for writing my story,(Marked), here is one of your three chapters!

Oh, you good-humored and barbaric Hangman.

Hangman, you bring us here, to uncertainty, to the inbetween.

Lights flickered behind your eyelids. 

You wondered if you were dead.

Were you dead? Maybe, but maybe not? Wasn’t death brighter? In the end, the next place, you figured you wouldn’t be in pain, and you felt that still. 

It stung in your mind, that relentless type of pain that threatens to stain your bones.

This pain that wouldn’t leave you.

You tried to dissociate, think of something else, and leave the pain behind. And so you turned to a constant, and you thought of all the books of your lifetime. Your archives were that of a mind palace, living so long and reading so much. You flipped through books and found the words of Mark Twain.

“But death was sweet, death was gentle, death was kind; death healed the bruised spirit and the broken heart, and gave them rest and forgetfulness; death was man’s best friend; when man could endure life no longer, death came and set him free.”

That quote you’d always adored gave you pause, made you tenser now.

If you had died, you would have gotten a kiss from Rio.

She wouldn’t have let you slip into the night without it. 

You knew this. You had to know this.

"Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out the lamp because the dawn has come." You were sure Tagore said that one. And you did see some light on and off now. 

Rio had never been late for a single date of yours, not to celebrate mortal Valentine's, not a summer solstice or an autumn equinox. 

Rio was a great wife, a fantastic partner, and a devoted Daddy. 

She was all of those things, but most importantly, Rio was yours. Your best friend and your fierce protector. 

And if this was the end, or what happens after? 

Rio would have shown up on time. 

And kissed you one last time with everything she had. 

So this couldn’t be death. 

You aren't sure what this is, but you can’t hear, and you can’t move. 

"Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forget life, to be at peace."

Besides the strange fact that texture wasn’t here in this place, and you couldn’t move - so perhaps not dead? Or if it was the afterlife, the drunken Oscar Wilde had described it incorrectly. 

You could have panicked, but what would have been the use in that?

Oh, there’s another good one, you thought to yourself.

“Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome."

Good job, Assimov, that felt a little more like this, but you weren’t sure why you weren’t more anxious about this in between?

You thought of Rio again and wondered what quote she best liked for herself.

So many good ones about her, but Willa Cather comes to mind in your hazy state. 

“The old man smiled. 'I shall not die of a cold, my son. I shall die of having lived.”

All roads lead to your sweet wife, Lady Death. 

Perhaps that is why you were never afraid, because you knew Rio better than you knew yourself, some days, most days. And she simply couldn’t be bad if she tried. 

Not with that cheek dimple, the slight gap in her teeth, and the way her voice can carry a melody. No, your wife was calm, the glorious Sunday rest. 

Now your mind went to the corner you didn���t want to touch. 

The fear you had, for the wife who would be suffering right now. 

Agatha Harkness. 

The myth and the legend. 

And your soft place to land, the hand on your damp forehead that checks to see if you are ill. 

Agatha is this world's biggest gift to you. 

If Rio is a warm summer night spent laughing with a bonfire and cold drinks. One that you’ll tell your grandchildren was the night you really lived, a photo that couldn’t possibly capture the joy.

Well then; Agatha is a yellow glow of light, the rays that hit your sheets first thing, she is morning, a colorful soaked sunrises too gorgeous to miss. She is the tea that calms your bones and the best of tender kisses just before the day begins.

Both of them stunning.

You have no regrets. 

Sunday rest..that reminded you of Auden now.  

‘He was my North, my South, my East and West, 

My working week and my Sunday rest, 

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; 

I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.’ 

Should you have killed all of those witches, those people? Who’s to say now?

If it meant a moment of your life was different, then you’d do every evil deed all over again. But now was not the time to think of that. 

Your witchcraft upbringing didn’t exactly believe in Christianity and the idea of heaven being a place with clouds and gates. 

But yet another quote rings out all the same…. You feel for Andrew Jackson, because perhaps he said it best.

“Heaven will be no heaven to me if I do not meet my wife there.”

Where was Agatha if you were gone?

She would be here, you were her familiar…..Unless…. 

Unless he had done it, and you were no longer a familiar, and you had died. Then Agatha would walk the earth without you. 

That was a scary feeling and somewhat more settling than her dying with you, because of you. 

If Agatha could hear you, she’d quote a different kind of death than the one you are thinking. She’d throw Dylan Thomas in your face with all the hate she could muster for this situation. 

“Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

My sweetheart, my wife, My Aggie, if you can hear me. How I wish you could. 

Forgive Rio.

Forgive Me. 

The light flashed again, and you were further confused. 

A vision of Agatha picking an apple in an orchard and handing it to you flashed through your memories. 

You had no fight in your muscles; you could not rage. You hoped your wives wouldn’t be disappointed by your lack of effort in this last moment. If Agatha were here, she would have wanted you to fight it, demanded it really, to ‘rage against the dying of the light.’ 

But where it was you were, you were sure you walked alone. 

Though who was to say your senses were to be trusted, I mean, if you were dead, you’d have met Rio, right? And round and round your mind would go.

If you were still connected by familiar magic, you’d have heard them, or maybe not? If the darkhold magic that had taught you how to be bound to your wives really was correct (which it hadn’t really been done much, so it wasn’t like you three were going off of Yelp reviews), Agatha should be dead here too. 

This was madness, trying to sort out something like this. Perhaps this was the moment to theorize about the afterlife?

Strange that you had taken this long to wonder, no?

Was this the witch afterlife, the one your elders had taught you, the one you were about to fall into? Or reincarnation, was this the in between?

And if it was it is between, was it a moment, or forever in between? 

Limbo, the word sat in your stream of consciousness.

Would you feel your body in limbo?

Would you find Agatha after limbo?

Was this punishment for the slaughter of souls? Perhaps this was the moment before reckoning. Or maybe, not that you wanted to entertain this idea at all, but maybe this was your personal Hell. 

No Rio.

No Agatha.

Only the darkness, and a darkness with no stars, no warmth, no end. No record playing, tea brewing, no laughter in a field or fresh picked apples. No stuffed rabbit, no summer rain, no warm hands against your cheek. 

Nothing.  

Forever nothing, with your madness, these stupid little theories and the occasional little flash of light, to remind you that you were in the dark. Alone.

What a terrible idea. What a horrific way to spend eternity. 

Far worse than those mortals who indulged in self-pity with their ‘we’re worm food and nothing means anything’ thought process. As a witch, you would happily turn to flowers, mushrooms, and worm food. 

Your soul was not bound to a body, in your witchy teachings.

Therefore, death was not as feared as mortals seem to hold it. 

Islam, Christianity, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, and so on, all of these teachings have an idea of what happens after.

Now that you were sitting with the idea of ‘after.’

It was easier to see their fear, yet you still didn’t have the full range of feelings, and so it was blocked from you, that fear. 

Why was that? 

Airplanes had those funny yellow masks that popped down, and they pumped out oxygen, so before the plane hits, you are calm like cattle. Thank you, Chuck Palahniuk, for that idea. You suppose all of these were just that - ideas, theories, religions, and spirituality in general all hold something. It was all a different way of coming to some sort of peace, with what happens next.

While you didn’t believe in the clouds or one god.

You really did believe in Andrew Jackson's idea;

‘Heaven will be no heaven to me, if I do not meet my wife there.’

If you couldn’t kiss Rio and spend an eternity with Agatha.

Then you were in for a Catholic type of Hell.

The fire and brimstone type, because flames wouldn’t hurt you nearly as bad as never holding Agatha again. 

‘Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate,’ was the inscription said to be over the gates of hell. It translates loosely to ‘Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.’

‘...they should be made to crawl on their bellies to enter the kingdom of darkness

Ouh.

That was not acceptable. 

Now you were clear you needed to do something - anything, really.

Another annoying flash of light.

What was that? 

Why couldn’t you feel your body, were you no longer attached? Spirt out and body one with the earth already?

Ok, screw this, time to focus.

What if you could reach them? What if you could use the telepathic connection, and let them know?

You can’t remember the last time your mind had been this quiet. No Rio thinking of sex and rock n roll lyrics. Or recipes she was pondering, she sifted through each one like a Nonna does. Trying to decide which one Agatha would eat. 

No trace of Agatha calculating magical properties, replaying rituals and ruminating on potions for purposes sinister and domestic. Agatha not fretting loudly over the future, or if you needed a jacket in cooler weather.

This was all so strange, Rio and Agatha thought about you, a lot. Like probably too much for being married for centuries. But you found of this, you were equally guilty.

Rio got up in the morning and her first thought was turning the coffee machine on for Agatha. If she had breakfast items needed to feed you both. Before she got up to brush her teeth, she’d already made twenty thoughts for her wives, unconcerned for herself. And usually, Death tucked the blanket over you and helped angle your body closer to Agatha. (If you weren’t already completely wrapped in her). 

Knowing if you weren’t pressed close enough, you and Aggie would both have bad dreams and a harder morning. 

Agatha was the same, opening the fridge and thinking if Rio had remembered to pack food before leaving for a work trip. 

Eyeing you and deciding if you actually needed socks and you just were being stubborn and not getting them from your wives wool sock drawer. 

Fuck you loved your wives. You hoped Agatha wouldn’t blame Rio for taking you.

“Forgiveness is warm. Like a tear on a cheek.

Think of that and of me when you stand in the rain. I loved you completely. And you loved me the same. That's all. The rest is confetti.’ That was a perfect one, thank you Mike Flanagan. 

Still, your inner monologue held no trace of your wives.

Your mind was never quiet. 

It was love, it was married domestic reels non stop.

Now, here in this space.

Nothing.

Quiet. Alone.

That was the most unsettling bit, alone.

Not something you’d remembered feeling for so long. 

Yes, when you were with the hex, forgetting Rio and Agatha. 

That was traumatic to say the least.

But you’d always felt sort of….sick then. Like something was missing, and you’d had those dreams. 

But this was different, no you couldn’t hear them then, but there was pain, there was depression. 

This was…….dark, dank, quiet. An endless emptiness that weighed you down. 

A different kind of alone than even the days of the hex.

So strange, so very unsettling.

Then, as if answering your loneliness you felt a stabbing pain.

Ow.

The fuck was that? 

Then another pain, ok so that was not a fluke, that hurt. Tingling?Electricity?

A shock, maybe?

Ow, oh shit, that hurt. 

Then something splitting inside of you, like a lightning crack.

Like how your magic had used to do, you’d tamed the lightning bolt, not experiencing something quiet like this.

Scream, oh god, you wanted to scream.

But through the sensation of static on your nerve endings, the splitting and crackling. 

Something else? Something was there - a body experience once more.

Warm on the crown of your head, yes you could feel your head now.

Cold fingers, so cold and wet and hurting.

But warm toes?

Like when Agatha understood you were being stubborn, and she took her own plum wool socks from her side of the drawer. And pulled them over your ice cold toes. And you knew she’d stitched them for you, and her magic tingles the bottom of your feet the whole time you’d wear them. Keeping your feet warm for far longer than her hands holding the soles of your feet over the wool.

That was this.

Agatha’s magic?

But she couldn’t heal, what was this?

Warm head, warm feet, but cold body?

Yes this was your body, you were experiencing weight again, like when Peter Pan has Wendy sew his shadow back. The stitching of yourself being re-attached, you were coming back? 

That was this, someone, you assumed Agatha and Rio? But you couldn’t completely feel magic signatures yet, but someone had captured your being, your soul maybe? And was thrusting it back into your corpse. 

Maybe? It was a hunch, not much to go on without being able to see. 

But the electricity was painful. Who was that?

Rio, Rio could heal you, but if you’d died, she would be breaking a rule? But this magic, it felt like a storm, reminding you of the magic you’d conducted. But the warmth was Agatha, it had to be. What other witch would be concerned for your feet?

You were being dumb. 

Remembering Agatha in the forest, as you clutched her, fear of the unknown. What she’d told you, what she’d told you long ago, when she’d protected you in Salem. 

You could almost hear Agatha’s voice in your mind, but not like the bond, like a memory too real to forget. 

‘You are a witch. Be a witch.’

If Agatha and Rio were bending magic, to bring you back or to bind you once more to them, whatever this was, you needed to help. 

You had to decide here if you’d give up, let death come, or if you’d assist and fight. 

It seemed like a no-brainer, but there was something comforting about sleep…no fight, no mess.

But as you thought about giving up, the lights hit, and the electricity crackled, and your toes burned. 

“DON’T YOU DARE.”

You would have been startled if you could be startled in this state. That voice was afraid, that voice was stern and powerful, that was your wife: your home, your Agatha.

Ok, think like a witch.

Heat, start there, it hurts it burns, feet and head. 

If they were doing a spell, what would that be?

Above, below…heat…

‘As Above, So Below’

This was a very old saying, something, a witchy responsibility, a true statement for all things earthly and cosmic. The top of your head was hot, above; your toes were hot, below. Ok, so they needed your help. If you were there, what would they ask you to do?

Rio could heal, and Agatha…..Agatha had her purple. Your shared magic, your familiar magic. Ok, so she would be binding you, and Rio would be…re-attaching you to your body from your soul. Ok so, think,…..think like a witch damn it. 

Cold fingers, you needed to move your hands, you needed to cast, you had to try. If nothing else to let them know it was working, that you felt something. 

Ok…how to do that?

The electricity hit your spine, and it was like they could hear you, like your wives were trying to tell you something. Why was this so fucking hard? 

It was difficult because they’d been in your head for centuries, you never had to guess what they were thinking! 

Shut up, you’ve been with them for centuries. You knew exactly what they would do, how they think, what magic they know. 

Focus and listen, Mommy would say for you to pay attention; she’d grab your chin and calm you down. 

Ok.

Rio…Daddy would say….”Sunshine” because you could conduct and feel weather, more than that, the elements. 

Ok, lightning…fuck why lightning? 

Why start at your head and not your hands? If you felt your hands, maybe you could…Twitch?

Dawn of the Dead, months ago, you sat in New Jersey, and Rio put on the movie. Agatha had been in the basement, and you two watched zombies. 

Zombies, you’d asked if Rio had ever seen one, and she said no. Zombies….and Frankenstein! You read Rio Frankeinstein on the hammock and..fuck this was insane..no keep going. ..Ok so the Dr. Frankeinstein, he conducted electricity…to bring the monster to life. 

Fuck this was stupid and crazy, but that’s what Agatha would say to Rio for this….You could conduct electricity because….because Rio was Death…and every road lead back to her. 

How had you never thought of this before? You’d always thought of how Agatha’s magic was purple, and so was yours, that you two shared magic. 

But you had been able to do necromancy, to play with dead things, to feel the earth and know the weather, when the storm would come and how. 

You’d been born in a rainstorm, yes.

But you hadn’t harnessed your powers without Agatha and Rio….You had Rio’s magic, her power, you had death on your side in more ways than one. 

If you could bring back creatures, who’s to say you couldn’t bring yourself back? 

Ok, so Rio was shocking you…but not your heart, not like a defibrillator. Like you two had talked about…no, she was doing your brain, your spine… to salvage your nerves? Maybe that made sense, but zombies…zombies….She was telling you something. 

Spine….

When you’d crawled out onto the roof in New Jersey, Rio had forgiven you right away. Agatha was more upset…Before, when Rio came back after being punished and you’d run intot he forest….You’d conducted that storm, purple and electricity. Rio had said it was impressive, your storm, your lightning. 

Rio wanted you to shock yourself…ok but how the fuck were you supposed to do that without your hands? Don’t stop, keep going.

Agatha, think of Aggie, Mommy always knew what to do.

Head and feet, as above so below.

When practicing necromancy, you needed to give and take. With the wolf in the woods, you used the fish and the stone. Almost biblical, ok, but you couldn’t kill someone…unless…unless.

Familiar magic was the soul becoming one….so….if you killed and then were bound…you wouldn’t be breaking the rules per se. 

And Rio wouldn’t be punished, because you did necromancy, and no one would hurt, and you’d be awake again.

Divine mother, this was fantastic, your wives were brilliant. 

So was Lilia and the coven, Hangman.

Hangman. 

The card that brings us here today.

It didn’t just mean going into the facility and going rogue. Breaking Agatha’s nose and pushing Rio to another realm.

Both of which you’d be punished for for the next century if you did wake up…

No, Hangman was a sacrifice,. ..the ultimate sacrifice. 

Not simply fighting Kent alone and having your soul ripped, your bond wounded with magic, no. 

Hangman, you needed to split your souls. 

And what was even more beautiful. 

You had everything you needed right here.

Agatha the gorgeous siphon. 

Death, the master of elements.

And you, the siren, the one who whispered to creatures. The balance.Rio’s little necromancer and Agatha’s little purple witch. You were the weaver, the thread that bound it all together. 

They’d called you a siren, a sweet talker, perhaps you could outwit the end. You had Mommy and Daddy behind you, you could do it all.

You were both of them; their power flowed through you. As yours did theirs. 

You’d blown the smoke in Rio’s mouth, you and Agatha woke a deity, together. So logically, Agatha could do necromancy, and Rio could pull purple siphon magic. You were all one, okay. 

So even if Kent had hurt the bond, he didn’t get deep, how else could you feel them this well? 

Now the light? Morse code? No, too spiraling feeling, what was the light? 

Alright, focus on what you can do. 

Lightning first, just a little from your fingers? No, so cold, nothing there. But magic didn’t originate in your fingers, no, it started in…..chakra points? Ok, if Rio was hitting your spine..Muladhara. That was the chakra at the base of the spine. 

Rio wanted you to start there. 

Feel it, ride it, be a damn witch.

You heard shouting, oh shit, you could hear? No, that wasn’t outside, that was in your mind? 

“Again, come on, my little lightning bolt. Give us back our sunshine. Come on, don’t make Daddy a liar. Mama’s gonna start killing the coven if you don’t help me out here.’

Rio, you could sob. You’d missed her so much. Her voice filled your mind like the heat from a log fire, the coals illuminating your mind. It was clear, though, Rio didn’t realize you could hear her. But she must be celebrating something?

Ok, so do it again. You pushed harder now. 

‘Daddy’s girl! Yes! That’s it! Fuck you are everything. I knew you could do it. Spine, Frankenstein, lil monster, focus my baby zombie, I knew you didn’t forget our date. Ok, ok, next step, little one.’

You chased your wife, wondering why you could hear Rio but not Agatha. No, not time for that. 

The memory of waking up tied to a chair flashes in your mind, while they redid the bond. Breaking you out of the hex. The bond -not entirely rebinding that day, not the whole spell, but they mended it. Strengthened it again, what if Agatha was sick, like you had been? Trapped in limbo, what if Agatha was stuck like you’d been? 

Ok, give her magic, siphon it. It’s purple time.

The words resonated in your chest that she’d said so many fucking times to you.;’ Let Mama in.’ You needed to give her some purple, shock her back to herself. 

Lilia, that day you had brunch outside, when you’d met them all. 

‘Seven of Wands’ she’d said in your yard over brunch. Challenge, aka stupid bed wetting Kent. Protector, Agatha, and Rio…But it was odd because, as you’d told Billy then. It was protecting of one's very being. 

You needed to give Agatha some purple back, and you needed to protect her by protecting yourself. You three were one. 

Lightning was the first step., 

Now, as above so below, you three, in every universe, in every century, in your very soul.

Blast Agatha. 

Ok, hit me, Daddy. You focused as Rio hit you a few seconds later, and you chased the bolt and used everything you had to hit your feet. You remembered now, a ritualistic magic. African-derived, you’d never done it, but you and Agatha had watched it in the south. It was an old form of Hoodoo. They used ‘Foot-Track Magic’. Hoodoo, like all magic and intention, had good and bad properties. ‘Foot-Track Magic’ usually meant walking though, so you weren’t entirely sure what Agatha and Rio had in mind. But you’d go with it. 

You focused on the magic coursing through you, the electricity, the blasting of Agatha. Your feet felt more important than ever, no longer just the place Agatha kept safe from the cold.

Memories of your Crone in Salem teaching you for hours, trying to instill in you the importance of grounding. Of feeling the earth with your toes and pulling up. The old biddy was right.  

You’d learned centuries ago to pull, the grounding held strength that connected all with green magic. With the original Green Witch herself. 

It was insane, and it was working. 

You felt your fingers shoot with purple, and then the same gut-wrenching that day in the chair. 

Agatha’s words run out from your past, as though you couldn’t stand the quiet, so you were playing re-runs of them. Clinging to memories, sticking them up in your mind like a detective would with red yarn. Everything they were, all your memories, they were your weapon, and your family was what you were fighting for. And every moment was a clue. 

‘This may hurt, Superstar. Stay conscious though.’ Agatha had told you before, naked and strapped to a chair, ah memories. 

’We are going to hypnotize you.’ That’s what Rio had said next, yes, you needed to do that now.

You couldn’t meditate completely, because as shocks were running through your spine every few seconds with intense pain. The heat on your feet and head was uncomfortable, yes. All of those things would make meditation hard, absolutely. But you weren’t completely able to focus on your body yet.

So, Agatha had taught you how to meditate. 

But she’d also taught you hypnosis. Fuck, she’d used it on you when you had anxiety attacks. In sex and kink scenes even. But you both had also used it on the common weak mind. You’d used it to lie, cheat, and steal. You’d used it to survive while on the run. But you were a bit out of practice. 

First thing Aggie would tell you to center and clear your mind. But your scattered psyche couldn’t hold any of that. Not with the pain in your body and the cryptic lights going off. 

You had memories, though, and powerful ones. You could remember Agatha doing it; that would have to work.

You started to get angry at yourself, this was supposed to work, they were trying, and you were fucking this up- and- you stopped. 

Think like your wives. What would Agatha say? The memory of her on the sofa comes back and washes over your mind like the sea breeze.

’I got you, Angel.’ The past Agatha said, and you felt purple shoot out of you from the safety you felt from the mere memory of Agatha now. 

You had to fight to hear that again, anything to hold them again. 

Ok, memory, keep doing it. 

‘Listen to my voice. I’m going to hypnotize you, my Angel..’ That’s what she always started with, oh man, this was bittersweet. Your heart ached for your wife. 

‘No, no..shhhh listen baby, listen to my voice, I’m going to count down from three. You are going to sink, you are safe, follow my voice…’

You open your eyes now, blinking and seeing lights and people moving around you, in real time.

You blinked again, and Agatha and Rio’s faces were so close to yours. Tears streaming down, blood and bruises on Agatha’s face. Black pouring out of Rio’s nose, and they both wore clothes caked in old guts and bits of bone and tissue. 

Your ears aren’t working, and they’re speaking, and you can’t hear them. You blink a few more times, trying to focus. This was worse than the gunshot to your ear.  

Your eyes leave your wives, unable to stabilize your line of vision. You take a breath and your lungs fill for the first time, and Rio’s hands grab at your ribs, and she assists you, and it helps. 

Your focus moves to see Lilia, Jen, and Alice working around you. You don’t have a clue where you are; it’s not familiar. But there are a lot of candles, the smell…it’s coming to you now, it’s dank and sweaty. The tobacco, and the necromancy spell wafts up. 

However, the dried copper of blood stings your nostrils, and so do burning herbs. So many herbs. Jen is brewing in the corner, and Alice is frantically drawing runes, Lilia is shouting, and you can’t hear it. But Jen is quickly tossed another log for her cauldron. The fire crackles and the heat is consuming in the small space. Embers fly, and it almost looks like lightning bugs in the summertime. 

Agatha’s dirty hand grips under your chin and turns you just enough to get you to focus on her. 

You are in pain, so much damn pain. You almost want your limbo to come back.  

You close your eyes and feel Rio’s hands push on your ribs to try and wake you. Right, can’t sleep, don’t sleep. You open your eyes, and they both seem momentarily relieved, but it’s gone as they continue to clutch at you and say things you don’t understand. 

Your vision is so blurry, you can’t seem to blink it away. Textures are coming back to you though, your body is still not up and running, but you are on some kind of slab, rock, granite, something. 

And the pain, the shocks, all of it is agony on your nerves, and you feel your eyes roll back.

‘I got you, Angel. Be good for me, Bunny, fight for me. Rage against the dying of the light baby.’ Agatha thinks. And your eyes shoot back, and you stare at her. 

Were you still thinking of memories? But that wasn’t your memory. 

Was that Agatha? Holy shit that was!

‘Mommy?” You try to ask through the bond, hoping it’s strong enough. Praying to the Devine Mother you’d given her enough to siphon. You needed her, you needed them both. 

Agatha’s mouth opened, and she nodded. Tears were streaming even faster down her face now.  

‘Oh Bunny, my little witch! Can you hear me? Oh my sweet girl, please come back to me. Let Mommy have you again, I’ll do anything. Fight little witch, come back to Mommy and Daddy.’ 

Tears mix with dried blood down Agatha’s cheeks onto your face, and you realized you could feel your face. 

It was working, you were coming back. 

’I can hear you! I can feel you! What do I need to do? I can’t-I can’t talk or hear.’

You tell Agatha who registers it and speaks to Rio, you see her mouth move, but are unable to tell what she’s saying. Blinking too slow to keep up with her mouth, as it makes shapes.

Your eyes close, and you feel so sleepy. 

Rio cupped the back of your head to tilt you up just enough, and your head lulled a little in her grip. But she pushed the words, and the connection was blooming again inside of you. Your eyes shoot open from pure will power.

The bond, it’s growing again. You are their familiar again.  Like wildflowers in spring, their presence kickstarted in your mind. It hit like music, like your little record player, the special one Rio tricked out for you. Like putting on Rumors album and dancing with Agatha again. Your eyes couldn’t focus, but you fought to pay attention. As Rio spoke in your bond, in your waking mind. 

‘Sunshine, you are doing so good. We’re so proud of you. You did everything we told you. You listened so well, little witch. Now don’t fall asleep, you won’t get your senses back all at once. I need you to get your hand back as soon as you do that. We can finish, and you can sleep, ok?’

Agatha turned to yell at the coven over her shoulder, and they all seemed to jump to attention and work faster than before. As you wake, it must have encouraged them that their cause, their efforts, were not in vain.

‘Hurts..cold fingers.’ You tried to explain, and Rio grabbed your left hand and Agatha immediately your right.

Just like how they slept, Agatha on your right, cradling you, and Rio on your left, protecting her wives from the door. Nothing would touch your sleeping forms.

Agatha’s fingers glowed purple in your hand, and Rio’s nose dripped black as her grip hurt your left hand. They would have walked like Dante, into the depths of hell to get you back.

Agatha’s nose was broken from your forehead hitting her, and Rio’s nose, eyes, and ears had black goo dripping from them. 

You realized she must have broken realm barriers, and it must have hurt.

Agatha had two broken fingers; you could tell that now from your warming hands. 

They were pushing every bit of power, all their life force, into you. 

’It isn’t a life without you, Bunny. Take it, we have one soul. There isn’t anything of ours, that doesn’t belong to you.’ Agatha feels your hesitation and guilt before you could conceptualize it.

‘It’s you or nothing at all. Stay awake, take it all.’

‘I’m so tired. It hurts.’

‘No Bunny, You don’t have our permission. Listen to your Mommy and Daddy.’ Agatha begs you.

‘Read to us, you have to stay awake, so read me your favorite bits of Frankenstein. Come on I know you know it by heart. Don’t fall asleep.’ Rio is pushing something, and you realize it’s purple; she’s using Agatha’s magic on the other side. Both of them look beyond exhausted. 

“I can’t.” You feel your feet get cold and wonder if your hands feel the same.

‘Rio, do something.’ Agatha demands through the bond, and you blink a few times. Wondering if you can just sleep for a second. 

‘if I see but one smile on your lips when we meet, occasioned by this or any other exertion of mine, I shall need no other happiness.’ Rio used the bond to quote, Mary Shelley and you coughed a little, and blood trickled out of your mouth, but you smiled all the same, and Rio swore she’d tattoo Frankenstein on her forehead to get you to smile again. 

‘You were listening to me when I read it.’ You thought, and Rio looked at you like you were the only thing that could save her from madness. From ending the human race tonight. And perhaps you were. 

‘I always listen to you, Mi Corazón. You are worth listening to.’ Rio stares at you, and you wonder what you’ve missed. Because both of your wives appear…murderous, past vengeance. 

‘Focus Bunny, we just need your hand ok?’ Agatha pushed and you focused and looked down at her holding your hand. You realized now, she’d sliced her hand over and over again. She had deep cuts, Agatha must have been trying to re-open the bond. But your corpse wouldn’t respond to her. So she just kept slicing.

And a state you’d left them in. 

You pushed as hard as you could, but your hands were cold. 

‘I’m sorry-I-‘

‘Mrs. Harkness, you don’t apologize. Now listen to me, Mommy needs you to pay attention. Focus from your feet, push to your palms. Feel my blood against your hand. You have this my little witch.’ Agatha instructs and you take a sharp breath and remember the warm toes. The wool socks, the feel of her magic, of all three of your magic. 

You ground one last time and then cast. 

You smell the wildflowers you can hear Rio humming again. 

Taste the purple magic and green as it sizzles. 

Magic shoots through you, and then the stillness sets under your skin. 

Then you fall again, softer this time, no broken skin splitting before you. This time losing consciousness is like a feather falling.

When you wake up from your slumber, you wonder if it is a dream. Blinking a few times, the haze doesn’t seem so thick in your vision. And the little you can notice is that you are in a soft bed. Moving even an inch is difficult but your shoulder is covered in heavy white gauz. It covers your neck and slings around your shoulder and chest. It’s over the bond, over where Kent split you open.

Everything is tight, muscles twinge like razors in between ligaments. The bandages and pain keep you still. Unable to reach out or fight.

You blink and try to shift, but Mommy’s warm body is curled around you. Agatha’s got you on her broken collarbone, you feel her bones ache through the bond. Her magic spent, her heart shattered. 

Agatha Harkness, a shell of a witch. 

‘Awake, little one?’ Rios' voice in your mind such a relief. Her voice settles a fear deep inside. And you work a little too hard to turn your chin and blink away the sleep. Finally able to see her cleaned up mostly, in a sports bra and faded blue jeans curled.

You are cradled against Agatha who is being held behind her by Rio. Your body is is covered in bandages and Aggie is holding as much of you as possible against her. She’s wearing a tattered t shirt and underwear. You can make out cuts all over her, black string used to stitch her skin together. 

Rio held you both like her arms were enough to shield you from gunfire. 

Rio was no longer covered in black goo, but she looked…weaker somehow. 

You started with Agatha, knowing the pain she was in from the bond. The amount of cuts and stitches was frightening. 

‘Is she-‘- The words get caught as you trace the patterns over her neck and face, stitches holding her together, the ones on her face are more minor in comparison to her arms and legs. Still, she looks battered. 

‘Mommy lost a lot of blood, used a lot of magic. She’d never tried necromancy before. So it took a lot out of her. She tried to stay awake for you. But….we had been performing that spell for five days and six nights. She passed out once you were back, she couldn’t keep going anymore. I cleaned you both up. I couldn’t heal her, so…I stitched her up.’ Rio explained. A million questions came to your mind. What happened? Why can’t Rio heal? What do you mean five days? Was Billy safe? Where were the coven? Was Rio in trouble? Did Agatha have her full magic back after you blast her?

First thing first…

‘Rio I- are you..I mean are you okay?‘

‘Please…please don’t call me by my name. Not right now, I can’t..’ Rio closed her eyes and ground her teeth, and you couldn’t move but you longed to, to reach out and hold her hand. 

‘Daddy, I-’ You start and Rio makes a broken noise. You can’t remember seeing your wife in this much pain. Rio’s bottom lip trembles and she puts her mouth down on Agatha’s dark curls and shakes. You both move with the force of Rio’s quaking as she tries to soothe herself, not to wake Agatha.

You don’t know what to do. 

‘Daddy, I’m so sorry. I love you. I can’t-I can’t move yet. I can’t help-I.’ You ramble lamely and Rio moves her shaky breathing off of Agatha’s head. She carefully lifts her left arm and set’s it so softly, like she’s afraid you’ll crack under the weight of her. Her warm palm finds your face and she holds you, as if your eyes are charging some battery inside of her. 

‘Sleep, just sleep.’ Daddy instructs and you can’t begin to make this better. 

‘I can’t…I saw…I’m afraid I’ll see him again. I don’t want to sleep. Please, at least- tell me something? You brought me back.’ It almost sounds like a thank you, but you are just still shocked it all worked.

‘He’s long dead. Nothing will touch you ever again….’ Rio didn’t even sound like she was trying to help you now. It seemed more like Rio was threatening the universe to try. Like she’d burn everything down, end it all if someone so much as walked by you and Agatha’s sleeping form. 

‘Rio-Daddy, I…’ You corrected the name when you saw her flinch, as if her name was no longer Rio. Like it was a slap, you needed to call her Daddy. Because if you did, she still had you. Your heart was still beating. 

She’d cheat the fates, she’d steal, Rio would break into her own chest cavity and snap a rib. Whatever it took. 

‘Please, just sleep.’ Rio closed her eyes, and you wondered if she would ever forgive you now. 

‘Can we…talk for a minute?’ 

Death didn’t answer you, you waited, wondering if she’d fall asleep. But you knew her mind was ticking away, so she didn’t say no. And she opened her gorgeous eyes again and you felt Agatha take a deep breath in her sleep, her feet twitched a  little but Rio just held firm. You decided to try.

‘I don’t really know where to start….How about an easy one? How much trouble am I in?’ You meant for it to ease the tension,  but it didn’t. Rio’s body seemed to be on alert even more. The reminder of what you had done. 

What you had gambled. Rio’s jaw clenched and she looked at you like she had nothing left. 

‘You can’t begin to imagine. With what you pulled - No, we aren’t doing this. Go to sleep.’ Rio sounded enraged, but like she couldn’t even muster up enough to be fully upset. 

‘Okay, I’m so sorry Daddy.’ That was all you could give in this moment. No fight in you either, still cold from death, only held together with bandages and necromacy. You wanted to say so much more. 

Harkness witches, wives, never apologized. It was a rule, always a rule. But it seemed to fit now. 

Rio gazed down at your neck, where the bond was split by a mad man. 

‘You banished me.’ Rio whispered it in the bond, like you’d cheated on her. She just kept looking at your gauze like she could see the wounds through them. 

You didn’t even know how to start on that. 

Rio kept going though. You heard her uncertainty though, like this wasn’t the first words she wanted to say to you. Her mind was loud, her intention was to tell you how much she loved you. But the anger was still there, and the words fell out like dirty laundry down the stairs. 

‘You told me you wouldn’t go alone, and then you went in anyway to that..that nut case's facility and then -then broke Mommy’s nose and shoved her into a janitor's closet.’ Rio was getting more and more lost in the images of what you three had just gone through. It had been five days of her replaying it. 

There are moments in life, where I’m sorry just doesn’t cut it. This was for sure one of those moments. 

So you did what was better for Rio, not for your guilty conscious. Because that’s love, not begging for an apology you don’t deserve yet. So you listened. And Rio had more to say, more that was splitting at the seams of her. 

Agatha must have been having a nightmare because her fingers dug into your skin, and she squeezed you a little tighter. Rio noticed and she kissed Aggie’s temple, a bit of magic coming out with her lips. And your wifes body relaxed once more. 

Rio sighed like it wasn’t enough. 

You waited for her, you’d wait forever for Rio to forgive you. For both of them to trust you again. Rio must have heard that thought because Death answered it still. 

‘If you think I’ll forgive you because you bat your eyelashes at me, you can forget it. I’ve never been so angry. I’ve never been..so fuckin scared. You swore. You broke your promise. You fucking knew you were putting your life in danger. You shut out Agatha. You banished me, and went on a suicide mission. You are in such deep shit.’

You didn’t have enough liquids in you to cry, too dehydrated to make the tears. Rio must have been worried about this as well, because she stopped her tirade. Not that you deserved the pause, but she loved you still, of course she did. Rio looked off around the room, like she was surveying the area, on watch. 

Before Agatha whispered your name in her sleep and Rio instructed you once again.

‘Get your rest. Agatha and I are moving you. Your body needs time to recover.’

‘What about the coven? They need us.’ In the dark you knew you’d made a mistake. 

‘You mean the ones who got us in this mess? You mean Caulderu with her stupid playing cards that made you think it was ok to kill yourself for us? You don’t get to do that, you don’t make decisions for the whole family. We talk, we figure it out. You made us grieve you! I don’t care what these witches need. The only reason they’re alive is because they helped bring you back, they earned another day breathing. Make no mistake, it’s not mercy what is in store for them.’ Rio stopped herself from saying more. 

‘I know you are mad, and you have every right to be…But I just wanted to keep you two safe!’ You tried not to make it come out as defensive, though it didn’t work, and Daddy met with more rage. 

Rio’s face broke and the vein in her forehead throbbed as her anger crashed into you again. 

‘What do you think the familiar bond was for? So we could play telepathic games? So I could find you in a crowd? No! It was so that Agatha and I could keep you safe. So we could all be together. So that Aggie didn’t need to breathe on this realm a single breath without you. And you took that from her, from us. So no, say goodbye to your little brunch club. I can’t believe you did that. I can’t believe you tried to die.’ Rio was grinding her teeth she was so furious. 

‘Daddy, I know you are upset. I love you. I hear you. I don’t know what I can do…but I’ll do it.’ It sounded juvanile as you tried to respond. 

Rio was shaking but she moved her hand off your face and reached to hold your fingers in her own. It wasn’t forgiveness, it wasn’t even a resolution.

Rio was too furious for any of that, but she also would never stop loving you. You don’t know if Rio spoke after that.

You fell unconscious from exhaustion, but you did sense Rio in your mind. Blocking any bad dreams, making sure you were still okay. 

She didn’t sleep, wouldn’t sleep. 

Rio listened to your heartbeat like it was the only thing that ever mattered. 

When you woke to an uneasy shift, you were someplace new once more. 

Salty, something wet, sea breeze?  

The sight of waves crashing really shook you from sleep now. Still not having the ability to hear anything was frightening. Like the whole world was put on a permanent mute.

 It dawned on you, as you watched the waves hit the sand, this was a safe house Rio had. It was a getaway you had gone on long ago. The window was open and it was early morning from the look of the tricolored sky. 

You roused and moved now, shoulder still wrapped. But you were safe nestled against Agatha’s side. You looked up now, feeling your body more than before. Agatha was staring out the window not blinking, not moving.

‘Agatha?’

You waited and she didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t think, just looked comatose out into the distance. 

‘Mommy please say something. Or I’m scared the bond isn’t working.’ You really meant it, Agatha wasn’t usually so quiet. Finally Agatha’s left eye twitched and she spoke through the bond.

‘You left.’

It was two words, but they felt like bullets. 

‘Please, you have to understand…I thought it was the only way to keep you both safe.’

‘Safe.’ Agatha said as though it tasted bad, curdled milk under her tongue. A lie expired tasted even worse. 

‘I couldn’t let anything happen to you. Rio couldn’t be involved and you couldn’t…couldn’t be hurt.’ 

Agatha’s jaw clenched.

‘Hurt. An interesting word, it didn’t hurt when they shot my shoulder. When you broke my nose, it didn’t hurt when I killed the last of the Salem seven after she broke my thigh open with her fangs. No…My collar bone snapped like a wish bone, none of that even slightly hurt.’ Agatha’s tone in your mind was coming out raw, yet detached, like perhaps she was talking about something historical that happened. Not something that happened only a few days ago.

‘Please..’ You weren’t even sure what you were asking for. Forgiveness? No you knew that wouldn’t come anytime soon. 

Agatha’s face snapped down to stare at you. She looked like a shell, worse than ever before, worse than the hex, worse than the visions of her on the road. Worse than the night she killed her own mother.

You had broken something in Agatha Harkness.

‘Hurt doesn’t even cover it as I held your corpse in my hands. Hurt won’t ever explain the way I begged for you to come back, to let me come with you. No, hurt doesn’t even begin to cover this. You left, you promised….’ Agatha had one tear escape her right eye and roll down her cheek, down her chin, then it fell practically in a poetic way onto your lip. 

It sat there on you, like a foreign object. Like something you couldn’t begin to comprehend. 

‘What can I do? How can I make you see? How can I ever get you to forgive me? I love you, please please…’ You beg your wife, only for Agatha to stare at you like you were only a hallucination to her. How could this ever be real, this whole love, her whole life, you in her arms. All of it never happened. 

‘Heal. Stay in my arms.’ Agatha whispered in your head, and you crawled with all your strength further into her embrace. Agatha’s fingers dug into your skin, like she was the anchor between you and the underworld.

‘I love you.’ You tell Agatha through the bond and she closes her eyes tight, like those words…the ones she thought you’d never say to her again. Like they burned her now, as if she couldn’t believe the words were being said to her again. Words you didn’t usually tell your wives, because they knew. But it seemed they needed them now, and you would give and give until they couldn’t ignore the truth.  

‘Stay with me. Don’t you ever- never again. You just, just stay here.’ Agatha couldn’t look at you, she kept her eyes closed tight and you closed your own. Letting sleep take you like clockwork. 

For another week, you stayed in bed. Agatha spoon fed you, but you two didn’t really talk much. Finding you were incredibly weak, unable to stay awake for more than a few minutes. Broken bones and nerves being magically re-attached did that. Not to mention the mending of the bond magic. The only relief to this was you heard them in your mind now. And they pushed away your nightmares. You longed to talk to them, but found it impossible to keep your eyes open. 

It was on the ninth day Agatha positioned you, propping you against the pillows. That you turned some kind of corner. Aggie was spoon feeding you, and you noticed the stitches gone from her face and neck. Most of the ones on her arms were gone too. How long had it really been? You pondered this and the amazing and unthinkable happened - your ears decided to work again.

It was a shock to everyone. Agatha was blowing on a spoonful of broth and Rio was digging through a re-usable bag looking for something she’d purchased. That’s when your right ear popped like when altitude changes. It hurt like hell and then you miraculously over heard Rio cursing in Spanish. The most crude first thing to hear.

Rio was angry someone had shorted her in groceries. 

Your eyes snapped over to her, decoding her Spanish slang easily now.  

But Rio was mumbling irritated on and on and your left ear popped, and then you were certain it wasn’t a dream. 

You reached up to your ear and cupped it, Agatha noticed first. 

‘Bunny is your ear bothering you? Can you - Can you hear her?’  Aggies eyes were wide and the spoon clanked in the bowl from her shock. You flinched at the noise and both your wives had your full attention now. 

“Baby can you hear me?” Rio questioned now, catching up with your familiar telepathic bond.

You nod once and they both look ready to sob in relief. But just as quick as they celebrate with you. A tension falls over the room just as fast. 

Like they won’t allow themselves happiness. 

“Rio, can you get the muscle potion off the-“ Agatha points to the small kitchen and Rio jumps to grab it. You are so giddy to be able to hear them, and you aren’t sure if it’s the excitement of something Agatha is slipping into your soup.

But you fall asleep once more, and even in dreams you try to tell Mommy how annoying this is, just in case she is doing it on purpose. 

Time passes and you just can’t tell how much. A few things you have learned. 

The beach house is near mountains, so that helps narrow down the location a little. Rio isn’t sleeping, when you do wake in the night to shift just a bit, you see her watching, waiting. 

The days aren’t much different really, one wife was always next to you, watching you like a hawk at all hours. They took shifts. Cleaning you, tending to your wounds, checking the bond mark. In the night when you did wake again, with Rio watching. Agatha was always holding you, her broken soul clinging to your unconscious body like she was guarding you. Like only she could keep you earth bound. 

Rio would go out to buy groceries, she’d cook, tend to the potion that was always brewing in the cauldron over the fireplace for you. She’d hand Agatha two plates after hours of cooking. Hours of cleaning and tending to the ingredients needed to mend you back. To reattach your muscles and heal the tendons. 

But Rio rarely spoke, neither of them did. And you weren’t awake for long enough periods to badger them with questions. Only eating and falling asleep again really.

So it would rinse and repeat, they slaved away to keep your soul safe. Unwilling to look away from you, as if you’d slip out of their grip.

You weren’t even sure how much time was passing, only that you woke and fell asleep, too weak to do much. Agatha didn’t even have you nurse. Which you missed more than words could say.

You weren’t sure if Agatha was doing well with this change, or rather how her breasts we’re handling the physical change. As it was both mental and physical release. But she didn’t tell you any of it. Just looked after you with a intensity only saved for someone going insane. 

Rio and Agatha didn’t hold each other either, it was like they were punishing themselves.

You listened to their thoughts, their angry self hatred. 

Rio and Agatha were fighting too, you came to the conclusion. Because Rio was angry at Aggie for the banishment, and Agatha was just plain furious about everything. However, even though the two were incredibly stubborn. They also both knew, they had a role to play in all of this horribleness. 

So they didn’t touch, didn’t kiss, didn’t linger when their fingers did touch. 

And no one reached out to the coven, It was like they had to hide you away from everything. You wondered how they were all doing, but knew better than to ask. Poor Billy, unable to understand what was happening. Lilia thinking she had changed someones fate, finally. Alice believing she’d protected for once, and Jen brewing like the world depended on it. Only to not know the resolution really. 

Not that you three knew if you would ever walk again. Ever stay awake for a flipping conversation. You were a vegetable. 

And Rio and Agatha were an absolute mess, your wives were moving around you like ghosts. Unable to connect and feel anything, just stuck in the fear of losing you. 

It was on a random day, and you had sorta had enough of this bullshit. So you threw your legs over the bed. Agatha and Rio both paused moving the dinner and potions to see gawk at you. 

“What are you doing?” Rio asked dumbly first but you grabbed the side table and pulled and you held yourself up. Both of your wives gape, eyes bulging at you, as you stood in spite.

You tried to take a step forward but your left leg shook and you lost your balance. Rio and Agatha dropped everything and ran to your side, grabbing either of your arms to balance you. Agatha moved under your armpit to hoist you up again, Rio was angling you so you didn’t fall into the table. 

“You need rest. Stop it.” Rio chastised and you had had enough. 

You slapped her away from you and Agatha didn’t give you the same chance as she carefully set you back down on the bed and put her hand on your chest to stop you. 

You used the bond to yell at them.

‘We can’t keep living like this! You can’t keep doing this! What is the plan? Keep running away? I need to start walking again! I can feel my legs!’ You argue only to have Rio react first. 

“We’ll tell you when you can walk again! Seeing as how we were the ones who bent your bones back and played necromancer!”

‘We can’t keep running like this!’

“You lost your right to this conversation, so sit down and eat your fucking soup.’ Rio snapped back and you couldn’t believe her. That this is what was happening to your family. Rio poured the soup into a bowl and sat down by you, ladeling a spoon full. You glared fully at her as Agatha kept you from getting back up. 

‘How can you be ok with this? Both of you? We just run away you keep me bed bound and then what? How long are we gonna do this?’ You scream into their minds. Looking between the two of them with hurt. 

“Eat your soup.” Rio pushed irritated, thrusting the cooling meal closer to your lips and you use all your might to slap the food away. It goes flying and you feel a bit bad but it’s outweigh with the anger for all of this shit.  

‘NO! FUCK THIS! I want my wives back!’ It sounds petulant and you don’t care. 

‘Don’t start this.’ Rio chastised, like you being a bad patient was the last thing they needed. 

‘NO RIO!’ You yell back and now it’s Agatha’s turn to snap at you. Almost as if she was defending Rio, like she couldn’t stand here and listen to this. If you had called Rio Daddy you wondered if Agatha’s reaction would have been this intense. 

‘Did you think to tell me your plan when you walked into that facility with your little Hangman trick?’ She stated the fact with such ice that it sent the hair on your arms up. 

‘Aggie…’ Another flinch, she didn’t like this one bit. 

‘You will eat this soup.’ Agatha eyes the bowl in Rio’s hand and then you. 

‘No, I won’t. Not because I don’t adore you both, and appreciate you bending the elements to bring me back here. But because I won’t keep doing this for the rest of our lives. You both can’t live like this either.’ You almost said something worse, something about perhaps they shouldn’t have saved you if this was the way life looked. 

They must have heard it through the familiar magic, because your wives both grew even more enraged.

‘I’ll take this every day of the week over chanting and sending electricity through your dead body. I think this is a fucking holiday in comparison to that!’ Rio yelled and it shook the walls of your mind. A big headache coming into being now.  

 ‘Stop this.’ You argued fiercely. 

‘Or what?  You wanna break my nose? Oh hey, you two can banish me again!’ Rio spat turning to Agatha, and it dawned on you. The way a realization creeps up into your skull after you ignore the naked truth for too long. 

You were the peace. And you had been unable to bring it to your home. How had you not noticed this before? The two of them had always said without you…nothing worked. You were the healing balm and the gentleness, you brought everyone together. And now it was your turn to do that again. 

Matching their anger never worked for your wives, it sure wouldn’t work now. 

You opened your mouth and a small sound came out and Rio and Agatha turned to stare at you. You cleared your throat again and spoke to the best of your abilities. 

“Ww-we d-deser-ve bet-t-tter.” You made it out, it was choppy and not perfect but Agatha stopped breathing and Rio looked like you had torn all the spite and anger out of her body. 

“You- you spoke.” Rio whimpered now, death herself whimpered. 

‘It wasn’t that bad.’ You half joke at them with a bashful smile. It was pretty bad actually. 

“It was beautiful,” Agatha corrected, with conviction, biting her lip, and you could tell they didn’t know if you ever would talk again. The fear that sat on their chest was all-consuming. 

‘I know I fucked up, I scared you two. But this isn’t us. I need you both to come back, to come back to me. I know that’s selfish after what I put you through. But please, stop treating each other like this. Stop punishing yourselves, stop all of this.’ You attempted to reason, and Agatha put a hand over her mouth like she could hold in the sob that threatened to break free. Rio spoke out loud again. 

“Sunshine….we don’t know how to anymore. You left, when you die. Agatha went on a killing spree. Thousands of soldiers tortured from their minds in, and that- fucker, well she burned him alive. We….we took you underground and we worked so hard to bring you back…but now we can’t lose you..Not again…” Rio rambled and Agatha was biting her own hand to stop from speaking. And she couldn’t look at either of her wives. 

Okay, time to self care top - from the bottom that is. Neither of them knew what to do, their stupid routine was killing everyone. 

‘Okay, let’s start small? Rio, you need to sleep.’

Both of their bodies jerked like you had slapped them. As if suggesting they needed something, had needs at all, made either of them weak. It was silly and you wouldn’t listen to it. Eventually Rio would crave rest, sure she didn’t require sleep, but she needed to fuckin relax. 

‘I know you don’t really need it. But it couldn’t hurt for just a little while. You used a lot of magic. So close your eyes for a bit, okay?’ You word it carefully. 

Rio opened her mouth to argue, but Agatha grabbed her arm now, and Rio appeared shocked. Agatha hadn’t really initiated any sort of kind touch to Rio since that day. Rio didn’t know how much she missed something as simple as Agatha’s fingers on her elbow. 

“She’s right my sweet. It’s not fair, you need to rest now.” Agatha agreed and it was the first release from the tension you all had been living in and Rio looked conflicted. 

“You, but..what if?” Rio stated, thinking of all the fears of being found. Of you getting worse somehow and Rio unable to help. But her body is already moving like it knows better. She sets the bowl down on the side table. 

Agatha just shook her head. Like it was going to be fine, it would all be okay. “You’ll wake me if, I mean if anything-” Rio looked between her wives and Agatha smiled sadly at her. 

‘Come here Daddy.’ You patted the bed and Rio’s shoulders fell and she took her shirt off and then the jeans. Before crawling into the bed and laying down, closing her eyes and her body instantly settling like a beast finally getting a moment of peace after a blood shed. 

You open your hand for Agatha, not yet lying down next to Rio’s exhausted form.

“You need to eat.” Agatha said pointing to the food still out. 

‘I’m thirsty.’ You tell her and she goes to the water cup by the bed and you make a disapproving noise in your throat and Agatha turns confused. 

‘Come on Mommy, no more. I need milk, don’t you think?’ 

Agatha’s knees almost gave out like she felt genuinely shaken hearing you say that. Even through the bond. Her jaw fell to the side as her breathing came out shaky. 

You reached a tired hand out and Agatha could never say no to you, not about this. She grabbed her hand again and you saw the scars, the ones she made from opening her hand to try to rebind you. To get her familiar back. 

You gently pulled with the little strength you had and Agatha climbed onto the bed, you pushed her down flat next to Rio. Rio hummed and threw her leg over her wife. This was more like it. 

Agatha sighed at the sensation of Rio touching her, like she’d been holding all of it in. And now maybe she could relax just a little.

You waited for her and she didn’t need long, Agatha lifted up the white shirt she’d been wearing and unhooked her bra. You waited still, knowing how much this was going to shake her.

When you didn’t nurse for a few hours Agatha felt emotionally wrecked. This was something else.

Agatha’s hand cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing against your soft skin. Before she cradled gingerly behind the base of your skull, holding your neck and bringing you down onto her.

Rios' hand found your lower back and splayed her fingers protectively on you. As you kissed Agatha’s breast, you saw her nipples immediately harden at the gentle touch. Like they were straining to get closer to your tentative mouth. 

You wouldn’t make your wife suffer any longer, you took her right nipple into your mouth and let your cheeks hollow for the first long suck. Deliberately going slow, not wanting to hurt her. 

Agatha’s body arched into your mouth all the same.  Like she’d almost orgasmed, she moaned and fussed before lying back down, her eyes threatening to close from overwhelming sensation. Aggie fought against the impulse, opening her gaze wider to watch you. Never missing another moment of nursing with you, never again. 

You sucked gently, and Rio slept deeply, and Agatha felt real peace again. 

You tried to stay awake after the secon nipple, but it was all too domestic and comforting. 

So when you did wake the next time to have Rio and Agatha talking low and then kissing. It felt like a delicious dream. You were lower so your head was nestled between Agatha’s breasts still. Looking up at them felt like the most pornographic sight. 

Rio was greedily kissing Aggie like she was a deity that needed worship. Moving with fever, like she craved cleansing of her soul with Agatha’s mouth.  

Rio moaned, and Agatha grabbed her ear and pinched, stopping the kiss. Like you do with a wayward horny man.

But Rio looked more turned on by the pinch than anything else. Which you were sure Agatha liked too. 

“You woke my little one.” Agatha groaned, a tad irritated, but it didn’t seem like she could be too angry with her kiss bruised lips. You smile up at them. Like they’re putting on a little play now for you. It turned you on, and you were glad that your body could still feel aroused. 

Rio’s hand cups the left side of your jaw now. Ignoring Agatha’s attempt to make her jealous at ownership of you. 

“Hi sunshine, you know as much as I needed the sleep. Mommy and I still are in iron clad agreement, you are in deep shit. Don’t let some milk and a cuddle fool you, little girl.” Rio said it, though it didn’t seem to hold the same anger. 

You groan, though it doesn’t feel like it did before. The tension, not completely gone. Has eased some, now that the three of you could hold each other and tenderly kiss in the dawn.

“And I’m still mad at you too cunning witch.” Rio threw at Agatha who didn’t seem to shrivel away at the words. Like shared anger being talked about had some sort of safety that their silence couldn’t ever provide. 

Both of their war torn hands circling around your body to cocoon you in the safety of their embrace. While their calloused hands now hold more scars than ever before, the Clairsentience lingered. That all knowing sense that while their skin had changed, they were still very much your wives. 

Rio’s burned and branded palm with it’s almost bubbly soft tecture from the fates. Then Agatha’s scarred veiny hand from cuts over and over again to try and resurrect you. Her fingers were mended but her pinky shook now, pain not yet dissolved. 

Their hands no longer pristine and perfect, after long lives, far away travels, and endless nights holding you.

No, they now were visibly scarred with the memories of war. Of the fight to keep you, to keep you three together. It should make you feel guilty, as it did before, but this morning. You felt pride, and endless gratitude for getting to be loved by them.   

Your own hand reached up to grab your neck and you found the bond scar there. No longer covered in bandages. A jagged line where Kent had cut lingered above, but besides that, the bond scar was warm and raw. Unbroken by his silly threat.

‘You didn’t think we would leave you without our pretty little mark did you?’ Rio teased in your thoughts and you just smiled and rubbed your face in Agatha’s chest. Aggie liked this and kissed the top of your hair.

‘Can we watch a zombie movie today?’

Agatha groans and Rio laughs now.

“You did not just ask that!” Rio laughed appalled at you and Agatha reached under your arms and yanked you up so that you were face to face with them. You instantly hid in Agatha’s neck though. 

You read her thoughts, her needs,  Agatha was craving the closeness just as much as you were. It felt like it was an endless pit of need. To clutch each other, to kiss, the skin contact. 

Rio also seemed to be getting relief from her wives clinging to each other. She lightly scratched your back with her blunt nails and spoke.

“No, if you behave. Have your milk, eat your breakfast. You may be able to get Mommy to read to you, but that’s about as far as your luck goes.” Rio spoke and you wondered when you would regain that skill fully.

‘We aren’t rushing anything. The fact you stood and were able to say a sentence yesterday is more than we could have hoped for. Take it slow Bunny. Don’t hurt yourself or I’ll strap you down and force feed you. No books or movies until next century.’ Agatha only half joked, you heard the truth laced in her threat. Your arms wrapped around her shoulder to sink further into her.

“Someone feelin a little small this morning?” Rio read Agatha’s mind before she could ask it. 

It was interesting in this space to go from speaking with the bond to saying words out loud. You were curious why Rio spoke out loud at all.

“I’m checking on your ears little witch. That was part of my job. Aggie got your eyes to work first. We want you to hear us out loud and through the bond. Both are very important.” Rio answered and leaned down and kissed your shoulders over and over like she was mapping the freckles with her lips.

‘The old eight clairs.’ You thought and felt Agatha stiffen but Rio just scoffed. Your  wives didn’t love psychics and their rules before, it seemed now they didn’t want to even think about it. But the old magic ruling was that the senses were not merely the traditional five senses. Sight, hearing, taste, touch, and smell. But witches, primarily psychic witches believed in the eight clairs, that these senses were spiritual. Clairvoyance (clear seeing), claircognizance (clear knowing), clairaudience (clear hearing), clairempathy (clear emotional feeling), clairsentience (clear physical feeling), clairtangency (clear touching), clairsalience (clear smelling), and clairgustance (clear tasting), your wives believed in these. 

Even if your little hangman stunt had left a sour taste in their mouths. 

On the road Agatha had made it very clear how she felt about the cards. Yet even your wife couldn’t deny the clairs. Or her own experiences with them, her tireless meditation and practices to achieve further sensory enhancement. 

Yeah Aggie didn’t like the ouija board or the cards, but she also knew not to fuck with any of it. Flipping those tarot cards with Billy was yet another reminder, you just don’t know the full extent of witchcraft. 

A Witch's Intuition was a dangerous and beautiful thing. Which is why Rio and Agatha listened to you when you told them a storm was coming. They didn’t question it, and you knew better than to ignore tradition. The witches who had come before you. 

“We’ll start with the five senses, how about that Sunshine?” Rio calmly said. And the fear came over you, magic. What if you couldn’t wield magic anymore?

‘Easy Bunny, don’t panic baby girl. You need to walk before you can harness lightning again.’ Agatha coo’s to settle you but worry bubbles all the same. 

“Listen to Mama, though I’m not sure if that is how the mortal saying goes.” Rio tried to joke but all you could think about was magic. Never feeling that pull again, what horrible pain it would be. Yeah you used it with their help, but what if - what if you couldn’t anymore?

Agatha grabbed the back of your hair and pulled you so you had to look into her eyes. And her face cast down was dangerous and serious. You winced just a tad and Agatha was kinder with her hold. Your neck was still sore. But she wanted you to look into her blue eyes now. 

‘Don’t misbehave, listen to me. We helped you harness magic before. What makes you think we can’t do it again?’ 

Now that was a memory that did ease you. Agatha and Rio teaching you was a gift the first time. You had already been powerful before you’d met them, but together, together you were unstoppable. 

Rio smiled into your back, you could feel the curve of her lips on your skin. She liked that thought too it seemed. Agatha kissed your nose and guided you back into her neck. 

The days that came to pass after this exchange were much slower, gentler, and kinder. Rio and Agatha kissed and held each other without all of that fear. Rio brought you books and fun snacks, cuddling you. Kissing your eyelids as you fell asleep around her. She read endless books under the misguided half truth that she was just making sure your ears worked. 

Agatha had you nurse as often as she could, and would even sleep next to you in the afternoon after whispering memories and stories into your ear. Like your own life told as folktales.

Your wives understood the best way to heal you, was stories and their long kisses. 

Agatha was chopping fruit this morning and you were getting better at staying awake for hours on end. And you looked longingly out at the beach from the window and finally worked up the courage to ask. 

Rio had her head resting on your stomach. Your fingers played with her hair as she read you the local newspaper, in Greek. Only on the first day that she brought the newspaper did you realize you’d been an idiot. You were somewhere in Greece. The sun was warm, the ocean almost see through in it’s light blue clarity. And the rocky mountains around you, it was insane to think you didn’t notice it now. You were so thankful you could hear the waves now as well as your wives voices. 

But you had never been one to stay away from water, so you had to ask. 

‘Daddy…would you take me out onto the beach for a little while?’

Agatha dramatically and comically dropped the knife she’d been cutting peaches and apricots with. It made a high pitch clatter and you and Rio both turned to look at her now. 

‘No, no, no, no, absolutely not!’ Agatha began to freak out in her mind. Not even trying to direct it at either of you. Rio eyed you before she got up and closed the paper. 

“Aggie, I know you are scared bu-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Would you like my memories back? Shall I show you what I saw? What we just experienced?” Agatha spat out loud and her voice was raw and filled with violence ready to be unleashed. 

“My love, we’ll both be there. It’s just out front, she’s not going to swim.” You were almost surprised Rio was fighting for this. She threw her left hand up like it was casual.  

“Do not, fucking tell m-” Agatha’s voice roase and her fingers turned purple, like she’d hurt Rio. Which neither of you believed for a minute. 

Rio just sighed and folded the newspaper into another crease. Before regarding both her wives. 

“How about this, we sit on the sand. We don’t get close to the water, no one is around for miles Aggie. You know this. And, and, Bunny can sit in your lap. You can feed me peaches and we will just sit.” Rio reasoned and Agatha opened her mouth ready to argue. 

But you pulled out the secret weapon, you’d been working on talking more and more and figured this was a good time to try. 

“M-Mm-ommy p-ple-ase?” You attempted and Agatha’s fingers stopped wielding purple magic strings. She scrunched her face up, her nose having little creases like she was an adorable animal. 

“You so much as leave my lap-” She started but you cheered and Rio snorted. While Agatha picked up the knife and sunk the tip into the wood countertop a little too hard. Like the studio beach house had done this to her. 

The greek hideout had an HGTV wet dreams floor plan. It was pretty void of any personality though. The bed in the middle of the house, was really the center of everything. A small breakfast nook tucked into the side where the tiny kitchen allowed it. Skylights and windows overlooking the beach felt luxurious. Though none of the appliances were up to date. The studio was built in the 70’s and the plumbing leaked and made noises, there were no screens on the windows. Only one window to the right of the bed had a thin white, aging, curtain. It was a joke honestly, because no one was around, you were secluded. Rio had to row a boat to get to the main island. This deserted island was non existent on a map. Rio had picked this secluded spot for you to gain strength on. Of course, no one around had it’s perks. But she also picked it, you knew for certain, so that Agatha could breathe easy. No one to poke around, or to knock on your door to ask if you’d thought about your relationship with a higher power, no interruptions. 

Rio stole two towels from the tiny bathroom and Agatha glared at her, still holding the knife. She pointed it at Rio and then the towels. 

“No one is swimming.” She reminded roughly. 

“It’s for the sand, relax mi esposa. Tienes que respirar.” Rio tried to reason with Aggie. Who just turned on her heel and walked away as you threw your sore legs over the bed. But you knew better than to move yet, not wanting to ruin the small luxury you were being gifted with. Rio threw the towels over her shoulder as Agatha tossed the  cut fruit into a medium blue glass bowl. She’d dressed today in a dark brown tank top that Rio owned. As well as black cotton shorts. Rio had a light grey crop top that showed her toned stomach. On it, in gothic script a poem from the amazing Meggie Royer that said; ‘A Woman’s first blood doesn’t come from between her legs but from biting her tongue.’ Which was a very Rio t-shirt to wear. 

Rio read your mind and smirked, before taking the black hair tie off of her wrist and running her fingers through your messy hair. She took a little longer than necessary to wind the stray hairs around her strong fingers. Soothing you in this innocent touch, as she spun the strands and pulled your hair together into a ponytail. High enough to not bother you, but to have the end bit tickle your neck still. When your wife was done, she tipped your chin up, to admire her own work. Before smiling a little harder, and bending her body down to kiss your forehead. Lingering in the scent and glow of you. Like Rio was a moth to your flame. You couldn’t even be anxious about wanting to go outside as she did this. It touched the valleys inside of your barren soul. 

The corners that missed her touch. Rio had a way of clearing those cobwebs with the subtle grazing of her skin against yours. 

This gave Agatha a moment to collect a small tote bag, though her mind was like strips of metal spikes police set down to pop a thiefs tires. She was all jagged and disturbed. Even her hands held the jittery nature that was unlike the witch. But she made the bag and came around to you and Rio. Thrusting the bag into Rio’s hand who looked momentarily confused. But she took it and then bent back as you went to wrap your arms around her muscular shoulders. 

“No,” Agatha corrected and Rio’s uncertainty morphed into rejection. But Agatha didn’t care, as she took Rio’s place in between your knees to lift you. You were quick to wrap your arms around your domme’s neck. Legs entangling behind her lower back. As Agatha held your ass and thighs before jerking her chin to signal for Rio to get the door. Your Daddy hopped to it, before grabbing the knife off the counter, snatching her own tote and dropping the sharp kitchen knife into it. Then yanking the sliding glass door open for Agatha to walk out. 

You didn’t have to see Aggies face to know she was looking for a fight, anything that dared cross her path. A bird so much as linger and it would be dinner.

 Still, she walked down a rocky terrain and you closed your eyes. Enjoying, even though Agatha was the most tense, her holding you. The sunlight hitting your skin for the first time in a long time. Rio’s eyes fell to yours, before she reached into one of her two bags and pulled out a pair of inky black Ray-Bans. Whistling to have you open your eyes, you did it. As she flipped them open using gravity, then carefully slid them up your nose and over your ears. 

The sunlight was no longer bliding and you thanked her in your mind. She simply winked at you. Now you could read Rio’s tote bag, it was in Greek but luckily you had learned. Θα σε πλακώσω στο ξύλο it said. Which rougly translated to ‘I will beat you with a stick.’ You tried not to giggle. 

It took only four or five minutes of walking before Aggie found a fig tree on the sandy beach and Rio read her mind, without needing to read it.

Dropping both tote bags and spreading the two towels out onto the beach. Aggie didn’t thank her, too tense to say words yet. She just eased her body down, supporting your spine and butt against her body, as she sat. 

You sighed happy now, smell of salt and sand filling you up. You jostled lightly and Aggie tightened her hold. 

‘Mommy I’m just adjusting so I can see the water, I’m not going anywhere.’ You try to ease her fears. As you awkwardly moved, still not having full use of all of your body. It took longer than necessary but Agatha didn’t assist, she let you own your struggle, and enjoy your little victory. Once your butt was to the side of her lap, legs thrown over her, head resting under her chin. Aggie’s strong arms circled you and you sank impossibly closer to her chest. 

Rio just enjoyed being a vouyer to the exchange, until eventually she crossed her legs and gracefully sat. Her thighs brushing against your and Agatha’s. Rio reached into the bag and pulled out the bowl of fruit, setting it in front of Agatha’s right foot. Then she took out a green leather book, your eyebrows shot up. 

‘Is that a new book?’

“Maybe, but before I start reading it. What beach date with a murderous witch would be complete without!” Rio teased and dug into her bag to re-introduce the kitchen knife that Agatha had this morning. 

Agatha wanted to be mad at the joke, but her nose twitched from trying not to smile. And Rio knew her teasing had lightened the mood just a little. You however, had no problem giggling. Much to one wifes displeasure. Rio put the knife next to Aggie’s hand, and it did help just a little. 

But Agatha refused to admit it, instead her right hand dug into the fruit bowl and took out a juicy peach slice, it ran down her fingers and she fed it to you. You licked her finger when you were finished. You felt Agatha’s arousal spike though her face refused to show it. 

Daddy flipped open the book and cleared her throat dramatically like she was a professional reader now. 

“The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents.” Rio read H.P Lovecraft’s opening line of ‘At the Mountains of Madness’ and you kissed Agatha’s neck. It seemed to do the trick you hadn’t even intended on, giving your wife comfort she so desperately craved. But could never find the words to convey. 

Rio read as the waves crashed, you found it hard to decid what you wanted to focus on more. Watching Lady Death’s face contrort as she read, seeming to get lost in the story. That had it’s own beauty, or the the Aegean Sea with it’s crystal clear glimmer. Or, Agatha’s response to you and Rio, as she found her body relaxing accidentally. As your fingers played over soft skin of her inner arm, your lips brushing against her neck, over and over. As though it was ritualistic, touching your witch was just like the waves. Consistent and devistatingly beautiful under any light. 

Rio’s words carried your mind away, and Agatha’s hold of your slowly healing body was as close to home as you’d ever need. 

Fighting to stay awake was a task all of it’s own. At one point Agatha had yawned and you gently tugged at the bottom of her shirt. She was all too happy to lay back, positioning one of the tote bags under her head. Before lifting her shirt easily and helping guide your body ontop of her own. She swiped your sunglasses off your face before putting them on. You closed your eyes and latched onto her nipple. 

Rio stopped reading, watching the scene of the two souls she loved more than anything. Aggie tilted her head in Daddy’s direction, you weren’t sure what they were communicating. As thoughts weren’t being broadcasted, only an ease of two lovers enjoying a day by the beach. 

Rio was still pissed at Agatha. Agatha was still upset with Rio. And they were both hadn’t forgiven you. But it was a romantic day at the beach still.

Rio lifted her knee before getting up, scooping up the fruit bowl and knife and then shifting to sit against the tree behind Agatha. It was a perfect placement, and you almost wondered if Death had grown this tree for this moment. 

Rio scoffs at your thought but seems pleased you think so highly of her. Agatha removes the tote bag from her neck so she can lay her head in Rio’s lap. Death’s scarred hand runs through the witches dark mane of hair. Letting her calloused thumb sweep over the crown of Agatha’s hair. Death brought the green leather book back in front of her nose and she resumes. 

“..there are some experiences and intimations which scar too deeply to permit of healing, and leave only such an added sensitiveness that memory reinspires all the original horror.” Rio reads Lovecraft and you roll your ankles to try to help the blood flow. Drinking in Aggie’s milk, the small sucking noises of your mouth seeming to create an even deeper cocoon of intimacy. 

Three souls on a beach, far away from harm. Nothing was resolved, not really. Anger and hurt still permeated every inch of your relationships. But as the afternoon sun heated the sand, water kissing the shore. It was hard to ignore the overwhelming ease of it all. Nursing on Agatha, Rio reading to you. Perhaps this was heaven? 

Conflict wasn’t being ignored, just set to the side like chores for after lunch. Agatha’s fingers found the blue bowl and pinched a bright apricot piece and she held it above her head for Rio to snipe with her mouth. Rio’s reading stopped to do just that. Aggie’s leg entangled ontop of your own, strapping you to the spot. It all had an air of ease to it. You licked a bit of milk that had dribbled out of your mouth and down the underside of Agatha’s breast. Your Mommy hummed in satisfaction as your tongue cleaned her skin. You didn’t open your eyes, already aware of the devotion in her gaze for you. Rio’s voice was low as she chewed. 

The heat of the day soaked into your toes, the fig tree leaves danced with the light breeze, the knowing branches stretched up and around in conflicting directions. Providing safety with it’s large green leaves, a calming shade to keep you three cool. The whole afternoon dripped with freedom, it loomed on your sunkissed skin. 

This was not over, Monica was alive. S.H.I.E.L.D would want revenge. Agatha’s stitches were not yet all healed. Rio would need to eventually face the fates. You could smell, and hear, and almost speak. Standing was a challenge, not yet back in action, no magic,  all of these things were true. 

The guilt of your wolf, young Billy, and the coven who fought for you. All of that still crawled at you. The future was terrifying, but with Agatha and Rio here. Sitting on the beach for an afternoon, it all just didn’t seem as scary. You gulped a large mouthful of milk before unlatching and sighing more satisfied than words could articulate. Belly feeling more bloated and full, nice and warm.

Aggie was quick to scoot your head closer to her left nipple. And you smiled as her fingers moved a stray hair away from your eyes. Thumb rubbing against your cheekbone, a touch of someone who adored you. 

So much uncertainty ahead, you would admit, but oh,  so much to fight for. 

For me and anon^

[superbassbuck]

Everything I Can’t Say Out Loud [Wildflower: a Jamie special]  

wildflower masterlist || Jamie's playlist

Author's Note: I'm surprised with how much love Jamie is getting (unexpected!! tysm!!!) I've been recommended to make a playlist for Jamie on different occasions, and now, I decided to make it! I feel like this jamie special is gonna be much needed before the next few chapters of wildflower come out (consider this a warning). I hope you enjoy this mini-short I made for his playlist ♥

Summary: Jamie's life isn't perfect, and he isn't the best at communicating. Does he get it from his dad? Absolutely. But at least he has his music to drown out his thoughts.

Word Count: 1.0k

Jamie: Hey, mom. 

Jamie: My 17th birthday is next weekend. Are you able to make it? 

Mom: I don’t know if I can, Jamie. Work is demanding. 

Jamie: You always say that. 

Jamie: There are a few people I want you to meet. Dad made a new friend, and she’s also my boss at the floral shop I work at part-time.

Jamie: She’s really cool. I think you’d like her. 

Jamie: Mom? Can you please go? 

Mom: Fine. I’ll go. 

“Jamie!” Bucky’s voice called from downstairs. 

Unfortunately, it was no match for the noise blasting through Jamie’s headphones. He was too caught up in the rhythm, head bobbing to the beat to notice.

Bucky tried again, louder this time. “Jamie!”

Jamie sits up straight, squinting his eyes—because your eyesight is correlated with your hearing, of course. He pulled one side of his headphones off, listening for a moment to see if he had just imagined it.

Just as he was about to slip the earpiece back on—

“JAMIE!” Bucky’s voice boomed from below. “Get your ass down here!” 

Jamie groaned, tossing his headphones onto the bed and trudging toward the stairs. The old wood creaked beneath his feet as he leaned over the railing.

“What?” Jamie called down.

“Laundry’s done,” Bucky replied, hoisting a basket of freshly washed clothes up against his hip. “Come help me fold.”

Without waiting for Jamie’s response, Bucky already disappeared into the living room.

Jamie let out a dramatic sigh but jogged down the steps after him, meeting his dad at the couch. Bucky dumped all the freshly washed clothes on the couch, and the two of them began folding in comfortable silence for a few minutes. 

“So,” Bucky suddenly brought up, “have you figured out who you’re inviting to your birthday?”

Jamie nodded, eyes fixed on the T-shirt he was folding. “My boss. My friends. Camila. Uncle Steve. Uncle Sam. All your friends…” He hesitated, his voice softening. “And… I invited Mom.”

Bucky paused. He glances at Jamie. “Your mom?” 

“Yeah. I texted her and asked if she could come.”

Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line, returning to his folding as he tried to keep his reaction in check. Jamie had invited her to things before, and more often than not, she bailed—always with some excuse ready to go.

“She probably has work, right?” Bucky asked gently and carefully, not wanting to crush his son’s hope.

Jamie’s lips curved up in a small and hopeful smile. “She said she’s coming.”

Bucky grunted, tossing a pair of folded socks onto the pile with a little too much force. 

Jamie noticed. He glanced at his dad with a raised brow. “You’re mad.” 

“I’m not mad,” Bucky replied quickly, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just surprised.” 

Jamie turned to him to face him completely, his brows furrowed. “You don’t believe she’ll show.” 

Bucky hesitated. “I think she might show. But that doesn’t mean she’ll stay… or that she’ll make it easy.” 

Jamie dropped the T-shirt he was folding, frustration rising in his voice. “Why do you always do that? Every time I say I want her around, you look at me like I’m asking for the impossible.”

“I just don’t want any problems to happen on your birthday, Jamie.” 

Jamie crossed his arms. “Like what? What exactly do you think is gonna happen?”

Bucky didn’t answer right away. Instead, he bent down, picked up the T-shirt Jamie had dropped, and quietly started folding it again, keeping his eyes down on the fabric.

Jamie raises a brow. “Is this about her?” he pieces it together. “You were gonna invite her until you found out Mom was coming.” 

Bucky looked away, jaw tightening. “It’s complicated.”

Jamie’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Oh my God, wait. You’re actually head over heels for her,” he said, dragging out the words with a grin. “Is that what it is? You’re scared that her and Mom will fight for your love or somethin’?” 

Bucky groaned, rubbing his face. “Jamie—”

“You know,” Jamie chuckles, that spark coming back to his eyes. “Even though she runs a floral shop, she’s actually pretty vicious. So, you better watch out.” 

“Yeah. I know she is,” Bucky muttered. 

Jamie grabs a pair of clean underwear, whacking his dad in the face with it. “Ew! That was definitely a sexual innuendo, pervert.” 

Bucky swatted the underwear away, shaking his head. “You’re the one who brought it up.”

Jamie throws his head back and lets out a genuine laugh. Bucky’s gaze softened. It was the soft yet rare moments like these that always made Bucky feel like he was doing something right. It made all the hard parts feel worth it. Even if the thought of his ex showing up to the party tied his stomach in knots, seeing his son smile like that made it easier to swallow.

Even if it meant not inviting you.

“I’m heading back to my room,” Jamie announced, already halfway up the stairs. “Headphones are going back on, so if you need me, try texting first and I’ll think about responding to you.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes despite the smile on his face. “Yeah, yeah. Go listen to your noise.”

Jamie grinned and disappeared up the stairs, taking them two at a time. 

Once inside his room, he closed the door behind him and tossed his headphones back on. The moment the soft padding rested over his ears, the beat of his favorite playlist came flooding in—tracks filled with hearty drums and a moody guitar that made the world feel far away. 

He flopped backwards onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, letting the music drown everything else out. 

To be honest, Jamie was terrified over his mom coming next weekend. Terrified, excited, and nervous all at once. His mom was unpredictable, his dad was awkward, and the woman from the flower shop… was honestly kind of cool. Maybe a little scary. But cool. He also has a girlfriend now—or… at least, in Jamie’s mind, Camila was his girlfriend. 

Jamie grinned to himself, flipping to the next song and turning the volume up just a notch.

Things were complicated—but right now, with his favorite songs blasting in his ears, things also felt okay.

[morscordiss]

Clandestine

hey irls if you saw this no you didn't lol.

Pairings: Monk!Ramattra x gn!reader Genre: fluff(?), angst if you squint hard enough, NSFW/smut

MDNI

Reading time: Roughly 20 minutes Word count: 5.3k Warnings: use of religious language & otherwise very sacrilegious Synopsis: You're at the monastery to study the rise in Buddhism amongst omnics and take your time to truly appreciate the cold stone walls full of art in Shambali. One late night while you couldn't sleep, you found yourself in the monastery's archives in which you find a particularly tall omnic. Extra: Multiple chapters but decided to put it all into one post because I wrote this all within two days, so why wait? Smut only in chap 3, end of chap 2 suggestive only.

Inspired by: Ghost, Square Hammer & Talk, Hozier

Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/67201864

Chapter One, The Archives

Slowly wandering around the Shambali Temple late at night was a true gift. The stone walls of the religious site are quiet in the face of the night, barely a sound by the time you usually look around and take time out of your day to clear your thoughts. 

This was your third day of sightseeing late at night. You were invited to the temple to experience the beauty and peace that the Iris gives those willing to listen.

The room you stayed in was fine, simple, and comfortable. Perfect for many of the monks at the temple. But because they didn’t expect many visitors of flesh and blood, it lacked some of the luxuries you’d be accustomed to, like a sleepable bed. 

Maybe you should’ve communicated that with Mondatta at the start of your second day here, but he’d become busy quickly- the perks of being a religious figure.

The intricate carvings and tapestries draped across the walls were beautiful. Woven and painted by the monks themselves, every piece tells a story. The awakening of Aurora was painted and chiseled into the very soul of the temple. It was overwhelmingly beautiful and overwhelmingly human. 

The raw devotion you saw day to day in this place was awe-inspiring. But you’d noticed many other things that depicted that raw emotion within the Shambali Monastery. 

Two monks of the mission stood out to you. The first is a monk named Zenyatta, who is full of young energy and has a heart of pure gold. Positive and wise beyond his years- he took the most after Master Mondatta to you. 

Peace was something he truly believed could happen and would take any beating if that meant helping another. Sometimes, his views seemed a bit naïve- but otherwise he was well grounded.

The second monk that stood out to you was a R-7000 Ravager who took the name of Ramattra. He was larger than all of the other omnic monks at the temple. He had experienced true suffering after his awakening and had quite the chip on his shoulder from it. He stayed far away from you, but why would you press him on his discomfort? 

You weren’t even able to get close to him like that. From what Zenyatta described of his viewpoint, he was more grounded in the harsh reality around him, even if that made him jaded, cynical, and otherwise withdrawn from you.

You were finally removed from the circular motion of your thoughts, finding yourself in a very large room full of dim lighting and bookshelves. You’ve just entered the Shambali archives. There, you saw a large omnic still wearing his robes, scanning a text. His optics quickly found you at the entrance of the library before turning away, faceplate still dug into the ancient text. 

He did not greet you or otherwise acknowledge your presence. 

Most of the monks in the monastery welcomed you with open arms and would greet you- but not Ramattra.

You stood in the entrance way for a bit, scanning the room and Ramattra with your eyes as the seemingly infinite piles of books littered the area. There was a desk that had a couple of books on it, and a small light above. You assumed that’s where Ramattra had been keeping himself busy for the last couple of hours instead of retiring to his room for the night.

“This is the archives. I would’ve thought you’d know where your room was after a day but clearly I made a miscalculation.” 

His venom shot at you quickly, he assumed you would’ve left shortly after he gave you the perfect example of ‘go away, I’m going to ignore you now’ body language. His voice rasped a bit in sarcasm, the lower tone making static buzz from his voice box.

“My apologies, I prefer looking around the monastery when it’s quiet. It’s much easier to enjoy the art when it’s quiet and I don’t risk interrupting any ceremonies.”

It’s quick and gets to the point. No need to be rude to someone who’s housing you for the time being. Even if it did get under your skin, the other two times he’s spoken to you have been of a similar caliber. It still hurts, though.

He seemed to nod in acknowledgment, optics once again scanning you before setting the text down in his study corner. He then finally decided to talk to you alone for the first time in all of your visit. 

“Why did you decide to come here? To make us uncomfortable? It seems your kind makes it their personal vocation.” 

He’s large and imposing, the LEDs on his forehead glowing in the dim light, even covering your face in a light red hue. 

“I’m completely willing to leave you if that’s what you want from me,” 

You step back a little, enough to reclaim some of your personal space. His intimidation is slightly working on you. But, in all you strive to be as professional as possible.

“That wasn’t my question, but I appreciate the offer. But I’d rather you answer my inquiries instead of dancing around them. Why are you here?”

He was brimming with arrogance.

Of course, you can’t just politely side-swipe his questions. 

Of course, it just so happens to be a nasty confrontation late at night when many of the monks are in deep prayer or sleep mode.

 You always have the best of luck when it comes to situations like this. 

He spoke to you like you had just opened your eyes to the ugliness of the world. Your grip tightens in your pockets as you take a deep breath and answer him:

“I’m here to study and write. Most people don’t get an opportunity to see such a large religious movement happen in their lifetimes so I wanted to document as much as I could from an outsider's perspective.”

Simple, respectful, surely an appropriate answer right? You weren’t lying at all. You weren’t dressing your speech up to sound important or enlightened, and best of all maybe this would show him that you aren’t miserable to be around so you can at least greet each other while the sun is up?

“Why would a human have such a close eye on an omnic form of religion?”

This time he was serious, not insulting you at all, and genuinely sincere. He did have a point though, because most of the humans around the Shambali monastery weren’t interested in anything other than violence against the omnics who inhabited the temple. You’d heard of the hate crimes happening from anti-omnic hate groups around the monastery for a couple of months now.

“I’m a scholar, I specifically study religion and how it affects the people and the world. That’s why I couldn’t ignore the invitation from Master Mondatta.”

Your reply seemed to make the omnic feel less tense, the servos in his shoulders loosening at the answer. He must’ve been just looking out for the safety of the other monks and himself. A gesture that showed the love he had for the omnics around him.

“I see. That is a respectable profession.”

The small bit of approval made you so relieved, it’s much easier to study when you’re not so on edge. You slowly relax just like he has, relieved at the acceptance, respect, and lack of hostile behavior from him.

A short, and small meeting that just so happened to be at night. The stars above are the only thing watching you two quietly talk light philosophy together, sharing some beliefs, surface-level hardships, and memories of fonder times. 

Ramattra is extremely intelligent, very aware of the social constructs binding him and his people like a constrictor to certain roles or beliefs. He is a wonderful conversationalist to someone like you who is very interested in his unique perspective inside the monastery. 

But none of your conversation truly encompasses any heavy topic- just references to how the real world is.

“Would you mind meeting here again? You’re a very good conversationalist.”

The question rings in the air for a moment as you almost stop breathing. A second goes by before Ramattra slowly answers

“I do not mind, you seem to be… open to some of my thoughts.”

Ramattra keeps it brief, his voice calm. He doesn’t get the opportunity to talk to a scholar every day and you intrigue him. You can hold an intellectual conversation and you also don’t hold many human assumptions against him as if they were written within the stone of the monastery itself. That is relieving.

You slowly leave the archives, waving a polite goodbye to your new acquaintance as he gives you a polite nod. You continue to look around the chiseled walls of the monastery, the intricate woven tapestries with brilliant woolen thread hanging from the walls, the metallic decoration all across the building’s exterior and interior. 

It’s a beautiful sight, and the stars above add a bit of extra light to the otherwise dim hallways.  You finally make it to your room before going to sleep. But you continue to think about your meeting with him.

Chapter Two, Talk

Multiple days have gone by since you first met Ramattra in the archive. As of tonight, it has been your fourth time talking with him in the archives past ten at night. You two have embraced the late-night meetings, even if he still treats you as he did before during the daytime. 

You decide against asking him about it, because if he didn’t like talking to you he would’ve stopped showing up at the archives so late at night.

Tonight in particular, you’re excited to see Ramattra. During the light you were able to catch Zenyatta and talked to him about his relationship to Ramattra and what got them to be so close, It turns out that Ramattra is the reason Zenyatta is a monk in the first place and that alone is inspiring to you.

Sadly, you couldn’t talk to Zenyatta all day because of his duties but you did catch him eyeing Ramattra after your conversation. Hopefully, you didn’t set him up for any awkward conversations, or maybe he could finally let go of his pride and treat you like he does during your private meetings.

You’re back in the hallway that leads to the monastery’s archives again, but this time you can’t seem to focus on your surroundings like you’ve done in the days before. The door seemed nearly foreboding, light seeping out of the door frame. At least you knew Ramattra was there.

As you enter, you’re met by the sight of Ramattra already sitting at your table, he has a glass of tea for you hot and ready, and has already moved his books to the side to give you space to rest your arms.

“Greetings, I hope you are well.”

He bows his head slightly to your entrance as you slide into your regular seat with him. You smile as you sit beside him and take a sip of your freshly brewed tea.

“Hello Ramattra, I’m good- how are you today?”

The warm drink swirls around in the cup before you, the scent of herbs and honey the only thing other than old dusty times within the archives. Ramattra is relaxed, his staff propped up against the wall beside him.

“I am also well, it’s lovely to see you again.”

Ramattra’s head bowed slightly to you and he watched you slowly sip the tea he brought for you. He remembered the type of tea you like after he asked you the day before but took it upon himself to add a little bit of honey for the colder nights in the monastery.

“Any particular topics you want to go over today? I know you mentioned some interest in the Abrahamic mythos yesterday, right?”

The omnic nodded, folding his hands on the table before you.

“Yes, the story of Lucifer was specifically interesting to me, Could you tell me more about it?”

This night in particular talked about heavier Christian myths of Lucifer and jumped around to Dante’s Inferno more than once. Ramattra’s dissection of the multiple texts proved to be thought-provoking.

You two both spoke about hypotheticals and then more about the many layers of Hell that Dante described within his multiple books- which also got many questions and critiques from Ramattra.

But, you two both circled back to the conversation of fate, freedom, and liberation, and how that tied to the story of Lucifer’s fall. Ramattra just couldn’t let the story go and wanted to continue to contemplate the ancient tragedy.

“He never truly had any freedom; his entire existence was fated from the beginning. How did he betray God if it was his purpose to betray and fall? Why was he punished for doing what he was made to do?”

Ramattra rambled on and on, you added quips in between his arguments, analysis, and critiques. This conversation in particular was more passionate on Ramattra’s end than anything else you’ve seen from him.

Maybe he sees a similarity between the Christian devil and himself, that’s the only reason you could think of why he was so overzealous about the analysis of the story.

Hours passed while you two spoke, but you’re only human and the cold fingers of exhaustion gripped your mind, your eyes finally heavy for the night.

“I’m sorry Ramattra, I’m just getting really tired- can we call it here for the night?”

He stopped speaking before slowly nodding in understanding. Honestly, he should’ve kept more track of time but he just loved being listened to and found your insights enthralling. But, sadly you were only human and still had to sleep- ‘poor design’ he thought, ‘poor optimization.’

You stood up from your seat and shuffled behind Ramattra, listening to the quiet hum of his fans get a little louder. You took note of his reaction to you just from getting a little closer than usual.

He stood up after you, following you to the door. The sound of his footfalls was heavy but graceful against the cold stone floors- the intricate designs seemingly rippling away from him.

You waved your goodbyes, and finally turned away from him but right before you stepped out of the archives for the night-

Ramattra grabs your arm lightly, his optics staring right at you. He’s so close that you can feel the warmth of his LEDs on your face.

“I would like to see you under different circumstances tomorrow night. I wish for you to teach me about the forms of worship you study.”

You nod in understanding. That’s easy enough because that is your job at this point. Of course, you could teach him about other religions across time but you’d think he’d already have a comparative understanding in his memory already.

“I don’t believe I said that correctly, What I meant was-“

His voice anchored you to the ground.

“I yearn for you to worship me.” 

There is suddenly no sound in the room at all other than the heavy beating of your heart right in your eardrums and the sound of his fans whirring.

His hands take yours as you are blown away by his bold showing of affection. But, you are still silent.

“Come here tomorrow if you wish to indulge my curiosity for you. But for tonight, think about my proposal.” 

He finally lets go of your hands after bringing one to his faceplate. There’s a quick vibration that came from it, seemingly a kiss.

He then gives you a polite bow and finally leaves you alone. You finally let out a sigh of relief. You wait until Ramattra is completely out of the hallway and you have no possible way to run into him again as you quickly and quietly scurry down the hallway, the pattern on the stone floor a blur as you shut yourself into your room and rub your eyes and try to wake up from this asinine dream. 

The last thing you think of is the sound of his voice against your ear before you have a nearly sleepless night.

…

Ramattra walks as calmly as he can back to his quarters. He has either made an amazing proposition or made the biggest mistake in his life.

He didn’t know why he’d been thinking about you so often- maybe it was because you didn’t seem so scared of him because of what he is.

Maybe it’s because you could hold an intellectual conversation with him and didn’t push away his ideas even if they were admittedly, radical.

Maybe, he just wanted to see you under him. To explore his own repressed desires and yearnings. It didn’t even need to be an emotional affair, he told himself, it could just be a quick tryst and you can go back to talking in the archives late like nothing happened.

His rash and utterly impulsive decision to tell you about his feelings had left his body and mind buzzing, By the Iris he couldn’t even sit down with how much extra energy his body was creating. 

He’s notorious for being awful with words during stressful situations which is why he’s started logging what he wants to say before he says it- this is something he should’ve logged before stepping into the archives that night.

Ignoring some errors popping up in his mind, he decided to go through the last two times you both had spoken to each other within his memory. His coolant finally caught up to the amount of kinetic energy he was giving off.

So his form of sleep for the night would just be looking at you, and listening to you talk.

Chapter Three, Worship*

You came to see Ramattra tonight in the archives again, once again meeting him under the cover of night during a quiet night. Your feet feel heavy as you finally make it to the archives where he is waiting, no longer admiring the Buddhist art all around the hallway you just walked through. Your eyes are completely on the door as you slowly open it to see

Nothing. 

He doesn’t seem to be here. 

He is usually here, waiting for you.

It’s an unwelcome surprise. You waited for hours just to see him again. 

So why would he now finally leave you?

 He could just fucking with you… Or maybe something came up?

“Greetings, my apologies for being late. I was just making sure I was… prepared for the evening.”

You nearly jump out of your skin. He isn’t even remotely quiet so how did he sneak up on you? Were you so encompassed in your thoughts that you couldn’t even hear the ravager walking down the same hallway you did? Your head was high up in the clouds.

Ramattra was close, his robes in their normal state. His faceplate was no different but he had a different aura about him, like a man on a mission. His optics danced over you quickly before settling back on your face.

“And have you thought of my proposal? I will take any answer you give me.”

He steps before you, patient but excited. You can hear the whirring of his fans more than usual. Maybe he’s nervous.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

Simple, effective, and quick. But not as quick as Ramattra was to feel you.

His hands are on you quickly, and the instant the metal touches your waist you’re hit with the true coldness of his alloy against you, his servos working overtime, his fans nearly purring, and his optics scanning you like you’re made out of marble. The contrast of how warm the insides of his palms are compared to his fingers surprises you.

Ramattra is full of passion and has been for a very long time. He is intimidating, devoted, intellectual, and arrogant. But as of now, his hands are running along your sides. His fingers mushing into your sides, molding you out of clay like Prometheus did for mankind, worshipping you like he’s ready to crawl down to the underworld for you like Orpheus.

He finally kneels before you in such reverence that you would’ve thought you were the most beautifully sculpted idol.

His hands snake up your sides as he slides them up to right under your chest before bowing his head before you.

“You feel divine under me.”

His words are quiet, full of light static, and from deep within his voice box. He slowly tugs you down to his level, so you are on your knees and burrows his faceplate into your neck, a quick vibration coming from his forehead- his way of kissing you. He moves his faceplate around your upper body and face, drowning you in his affection before he finally speaks again.

“I can feel your heart rate and temperature rising…” he murmurs into your skin

“I’m glad you’re indulging in my fantasies.”

He gets off the floor, leaving you on your knees before him. He is ominous. He is an omen before you. Intimidating, impossible to feat, and beautiful.

“Can you worship your God?”

His hand now lies on your head as he closes the space between you. As he says this, steam rolls off his back.

“Our secret rendezvous… a tryst between lovers…

 And soon you’ll wish for more than these clandestine encounters.”

You’re still looking up at him. The monk with a beautiful halo of light above him from one of the archives’ lights still on and with the steam still coming out of him he looked ethereal- like the devil himself. 

His hand guides your chin up and you look dazed into his optics as he chuckles, the sound deep coming from within his chassis. 

You’re pulled to him like he is the moon and you’re the ocean, nearly magnetized by his presence alone. His chassis is hot, his hands are hot, and one of his cables is now draped in front of him. His dishevelment spurs you to finally act.

Your hands explore his chest first, feeling his alloy and moving his robes to get better access to his body. A sigh escapes you as you remove the lighter colored scarf that’s tied around his waist and slowly unravel it and lay it beside you. You tug at his chest plate to have him kneel before you and he quickly gets the memo- kneeling before you as you spread kisses along his chassis, dragging your lips along the alloy of his collar-plate and down his arms, kissing his fingers one-by-one.

Ramattra doesn’t feel the need to verbally express his pleasure because his fans sound like they’re going to lift him off the floor. Quiet static still escapes him though. He quickly ignores the warnings about his rising temperature.

Relishing in the sight of you bowed before him, your eyes wide staring at him through thick lashes, and looking to him to guide you-

He never realized just how much this electrified him. The power he held over you was intoxicating.

He never realized just how much he truly liked being treated like he was divine.

“You look sublime below me…”

His voice roils with the power of an imploding star, his voice booming in your head like the Abrahamic God speaking from the burning bush to Moses. He lights a pure white flame within your soul. His hands start to tug on your shirt and he quickly takes it off of you.

“If you do not stop me now, your fate will be inevitable, but be my prophet, and I shall make your body into my shrine.”

He commands you like Poseidon commands the typhoons of Greece- and you follow his every order earnestly and with the voracious strength of a hurricane. You whisper a “yes” to him and he becomes even more handsy with you, dragging his fingers down your spine and pressing his hands against the indent of your lower back, forcing you even more into his body.

“Now then, I will splay you out like a true offering to the Gods.”

He is as beautiful as the fallen angel Lucifer, manipulating your thoughts with his silky voice. His beauty is enamoring and clawing at you to sin to stay within his grasp forever. The only thought left in your head is how you could please him.

He then pushed you on your back and completely caged you in. His large body being perfect for the task, his cables now fell around your head. While drenched in the red light of his LEDs, Ramattra removed his tunic- leaving his pants on. His bare chest had gold detailing which your hands traced. 

He finally grabbed the waist of your pants and tugged them off with your help, a satisfied grunt coming from the man above you.

Without much of a warning, Ramattra grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs over your head, forcing you into a salacious pose- you didn’t get much time to stretch for this anyway… but he didn’t seem to care.

“You will give me everything you have.”

His demands bordered on profane but what could you say as you were spread out nearly bare to him? He was so dominant with you now- overwhelmed with the contact and thought of ravaging you.

He did think about ripping your underwear off of you and spent an embarrassing amount of processing power on whether he should or shouldn’t- but after seeing your legs over your head he just had to.

The rip of your underwear tears through the room along with your sharp gasp and Ramattra stops right after, his optics taking in the sight of you.

Metal hands grab your jaw and press cold fingers against your mouth. His fingers soon press down on your tongue as you swirl and suck his fingers- the static is louder than before and he chuckles.

“Good. You obey me well.”

His fingers leave your mouth with a string of saliva still on them, trailing down your body before he traces in between your thighs. He doesn’t waste any time.

One digit enters you slowly, his fingers are thick and his hands are large. While he slowly fucks you, his other hand rests besides your head as he finally cages you back into him.

Your quiet gasps and whines fill the room, everything is hazy now other than Ramattra. His hand moves slowly and with purpose. Even now he is reluctant to give you much. He can tell you’re growing restless while you can tell he’s getting cocky.

“If you want more from me, you must beg.”

He sneers from above you while lewd sounds still permeate the air. You have enough room to grab his wrist and milk this moment for all that it’s worth and hopefully get what you want at the same time.

“Corrupt me, Ramattra. Make me look like how your fantasies did.”

His movement stopped, his fans nearly pouring heat out of him before he removed his finger, and then added two more.

His thrusts are much faster now and he presses himself against you like an animal. Your surprised moans fuel his desire to scourge you. He’d make sure to keep this moment saved in a special file in his memory just so he could remember the sight of you.

You could handle one finger before but three? And at the pace he set? You were bound to come undone before him in a matter of minutes.

His fingers were long, thick, and the pace would easily leave you bruised and sensitive for a while afterwards. Shortly, you felt the arousal in your belly start to build like white-hot energy. 

Ramattra could also tell, even if you weren’t panting like an animal in heat. Your heart rate was skyrocketing and he was going to bleed you dry.

If you weren’t already close, his fingers starting to vibrate inside of you changed that. Such a demanding pace, with such thick and long fingers, and now vibrating against gummy walls had you tumbling down your orgasm fast- a loud moan of Ramattra’s name the last thing you said before you saw stars.

When he saw you cum from such a vulgar position he finally understood those who sook out pleasure. Your body had a sheen layer of sweat that made you look radiant, your body shivering like you’d just been reborn and it was all from him. Your seraphic form in such a devilish pose made his mind nearly overload.

But he did not let up the pace. His voice box made a sound similar to a shaky breath as he continued past your first orgasm, fucking you easily into overstimulation.

Once you realized that he truly wasn’t willing to stop at one orgasm, you had to hold on to his chassis like your life depended on it. 

His chest plate finally opened before you, many wires and steam before you. Ramattra spoke quietly to you-

“Pick a wire and pull it taught- if you’re lucky it should force me to reboot.”

His voice was breathy and he didn’t have enough hands to direct your hands for himself, and allowed to pleasure him you easily followed his instructions.

Haphazardly grabbing a small handful of wires and pulling, you forced a sharp groan from above you and he slowed down his finger-fucking. His response egged you on as you continued to manhandle his wires

His vision was clouding up with warnings from his essential systems which he quickly closed to focus on you. He could feel himself losing some control- but that was expected. He felt you feeling around in his chest cavity before you grabbed a particularly sensitive wire and pulled.

The sound you heard in return was divine.

A long, deep moan full of static stuttered out of his voice box and his head fell, his hands stuttering inside of you. His first failsafe was overloaded quickly and was sent to his second he was close and he could tell you were too.

“Cum only when I say so.”

He was cutting out every other word, his overheating finally making him glitch and with the rest of your brain power, you grabbed your last remaining wires and twisted them in between your fingers.

Ramattra released a groan before bringing his head to meet you, his optics laying on your eyes once again as he sped up his fingers and rested his faceplate on your forehead.

“Now.”

You yanked hard on his wires as you both came- your legs shook wildly while his entire body shook. Moans filled the quiet night before the lights on Ramattra’s head went dark for a second

Ramattra’s second failsafe was easily overwhelmed by you, his entire body shutting down and forcefully rebooting. Within three minutes he was back awake, the red LEDs on his forehead igniting as his optics refocused on your fucked-out form sweaty, and your lower body drenched in your spend.

He slowly removed his fingers from you and sat back up, taking your hand and sitting you up into him after you set your legs down. Your hips burn from the intensity. He wipes his fingers onto his pants and helps you redress- minus your destroyed underwear.

You both didn’t say much after. He wrapped his scarf around you and sat with you as you both recovered though, he was sweet and stayed without being asked.

“I enjoyed our time together… and I hope we can do this again.”

You shouldn’t be shocked that a faux god wouldn’t want to let go of such a keen follower. Especially one so devoted to the cause.

[rinto190]

happy AAI2 english release! :D

[vaguely-concerned]

tiny animation detail from this scene I really like: rook glances towards the locations of lucanis and bellara's rooms (and possibly where they're most likely to be found in this moment?) respectively when they deliver this line!

(honestly I expect that lucanis is hanging out somewhere other than the pantry during this to give everyone in this unfolding catastrophe some space, but consider: it's so much funnier if he IS sitting in the pantry hearing this all go down on the other side of the wall like

taash stomps in with thunder and trepidation in their eyes like 'hey. I need vegetables. can we make vegetables happen.' and lucanis already handing them a lettuce and tomato like i gotchu fam this is literally the only thing I know how to do for you in this situation go with the maker and these salad ingredients I resignedly already know you'll just put on a plate with no dressing no spices no nothing. just the most sleep deprived caffeinated to the point of vibrating gently in place awkward-yet-painfully-well-meaning man in the world standing there before his friend about to have one of the most difficult conversations of their life like '...can I offer you a turnip in these trying times' while rye desperately treads social water out in the dining room to buy time. amazing. our lives really all do touch each other. headcanon passionately embraced)