#gave us the he was lost he was lost and he was found

[tojicide]

ABOUT YOU. ♥︎ SYLUS QIN.

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦. it was easy to get lost in the whirlwind of your new roles as first-time parents, and somewhere along the way, you nearly forgot about the other titles you held—husband and wife. tonight, that changes. for good.

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠. fem! reader, husband + dad! sylus, fluff galore, themes of insecurity, pet names, praise, fondling, oral ( fem. receiving ), soft sex, missionary, unprotected, creampie, aftercare. references to his nightplumes card. loverboy sylus is very prominent in this one. 𝑤𝑐. 5k.

𝑛𝘰𝑤 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔. about you — the 1975.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Anticipation and anxiety were two sides of the same coin—at least you think so. 

Your heart pounded against your chest, the sound was a far cry from the peaceful silence that surrounded the extravagant lodge. Only the wind passing through managed to break that found quiet. 

Snowflakes slowly fell from the sky as you stepped out onto the wooden back deck, the brisk breeze threading through your hair in a way that forces a sharp chill down your spine. Goosebumps pricked at your skin, though you quickly cross your arms over your chest to remedy them. 

You were beginning to notice that it was almost too quiet. After all, by this time of night, you were accustomed to only hearing the sounds of your infant’s quiet fussing in between the soft static of the baby monitor. 

This was different. Different because it was the first time you were away from your daughter from the moment she was born, but also because it was the first time you were truly given alone time for yourself. It was a rarity these days, and you weren’t quite sure how to indulge in it. 

However, the quiet, careful sounds of your husband’s footsteps approaching you from behind quickly gave you an idea as to how you could. 

Sylus’s scent served as soothing balm, the rich essense of his cologne accompanied by a smell that was uniquely him wafted through the air around you. 

“Aren’t you cold, sweetie?” he quietly asks you, his hands coming up to run along the bared skin of your arms. 

You briefly glance over your shoulder, covering one of his hands with one of your own. “Hm? No, no… I like the cold.”

The fabric of your dress did very little to conceal you from the elements, though it was a sacrifice worth making in your opinion. It wasn’t often that you had the opportunity nor the time to dress up for any occasion apart from the mock tea parties that your babbling daughter puts on for both your husband and yourself.

“I mean…” your words trail, and you find yourself leaning back into his broad chest. “I know that I’m not exactly dressed for this climate. I just wanted to try and look nice tonight. For you, for this… for… for us.”

His hands smooth over the curve of your elbows as his eyes trace the noticeable bumps that the weather had brought to you. Pressing a longing kiss on the back of your head, he opts to wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you even tighter against his chest. “You don’t have to try, sweetie. You look absolutely beautiful no matter what you wear.”

You slowly nod your head, your gaze moving over the vibrant hues of light that emerged from the darkness of the sky. The Northern Lights. Aurora Borealis. It was beautiful, casting faint shadows over your conjoined form as the two of you admired the way the hues blend together.

“I know, I just… I don’t know,” you stammer, knowing that your words must sound like a jumble of incomprehensible words. “It’s been a while since I’ve dressed up for anything, since… since you’ve seen me like this.” 

Your temple is warmed up by the press of his lips, and you find yourself unconsciously leaning into it, earning you another peck. “I just… didn’t want you to forget, I guess.”

“Sweetheart.” All you could feel was his hold tighten on you ever so slightly, lowering his head just enough to brush his cheek against the soft skin of your own. “Do you think I’ve forgotten about you?”

For a moment, you were stumped. You weren’t sure how to respond to that question, even though you had inspired it to be asked in the first place. Everything has changed, and motherhood has had impacts on your life that you weren’t initially anticipating. It was tough and unsure at times, yet so rewarding and beautiful. 

Guilt set into your heart. You hadn’t meant to bring down the mood of your getaway before it had truly started, but you knew that the feelings you had needed to be lifted from your chest. Now was as good of a time as any.

“I don’t know,” you breathe, tilting your head to rest it against his. “I just… I’m afraid that we’ve forgotten about each other. That we’ll never be able to be like we were before. I feel like a mess all the time, I am a mess all the time.”

Carefully, Sylus takes a hold of your chin to give himself access to your eyes. Minutes could have passed, or perhaps it was only mere seconds, but you hardly felt the passage of time with those softened red eyes staring into yours and his hand running along your arm. 

“I don’t think that at all,” he states, his voice still soft yet resolute. “Change isn’t a bad thing, sweetie. Not change of this nature. We’re still learning. It’s only natural that we lose our footing for a small while.”

“You don’t think so?” Your question only has a split second to hang in the air before your words cut it off, and the shake of your head solidifies it. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I’m just… overthinking.”

“Then I will over explain.” His thumb brushes along the curve of your chin, his softened red eyes taking in the appearance of you with snowflakes in your hair and on your cheeks. “My heart is so full of you that I can no longer call it mine. For that reason alone, you will never be forgotten by me.”

“But…”

Sylus shakes his head, kissing away your worry with a quick peck of his lips. “There are no ‘buts’ here, baby. There is nothing in this world that could ever drive me away from you, from the family that we have created together. Not busyness, not sleep deprivation, not anything.”

Relief must have been the first emotion to cross your features, because it almost immediately brought a hint of a smile to Sylus’s lips. Overthinking was a habit of yours, one that you couldn’t evade no matter how hard you tried. But he was perfect. When was he not?

“Not even me smelling like baby spit up half of the time?” you tentatively ask, a familiar humor lacing your words. 

He chuckles, the sound a deep rumble omitting from his chest. “Has the scent driven you away from me?” 

Your answer is almost immediate. “No.”

Sylus runs his hand over the back of your head, cradling it in his gentle grasp. “Well, there’s your answer.” He pecks your forehead. “Motherhood has looked good on you from the moment our little sweetie started to grow.”

“Little sweetie?” you ask. “That’s new.”

“It’s… something Luke and Kieran came up with. You’re my sweetie, so by default, she is… little sweetie.” A moment later, he clears his throat. “Don’t go telling the twins that I’ve developed a liking for the name. They may begin to venture out into unthinkable territory.”

You raise an eyebrow and faintly muse, “Maybe we can all call you big sweetie.”

He clicks his tongue with a squeeze to your hips. “You’re lucky there aren’t people around for miles, baby. Having that material in the wrong hands could be detrimental.”

Once again, a comfortable silence falls over the two of you. He unwraps his arms to reach for the zipper of his coat, slipping it off his broad frame to drown you in the thick, warm fabric instead. He smiles to himself, wrapping his arms around your middle once more as he dips his head just enough for his chin to rest on the crook of your shoulder. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, your saccharine voice filtering into the soothing ambiance of the winter night. 

He merely shakes his head, turning just enough to press a soft kiss on the side of your neck. “No need to thank me.”

You knew that he’d never accept your thanks, but you felt the need to say it regardless. His reassurance, his way with his words, his selfless gestures that were unending and unconditional—he deserved to hear that. You knew it. 

Tilting your head up, you can’t help but huff out a laugh that turns to condensation in the cool air. “You have snow in your hair, you know.”

Sylus smiles, raising an eyebrow as he lowers his head once more. “Help me.”

And you do just that, raising your hand to shake away some of the pesty fallen snow that had nestled in his silver locks of hair. You were sure that you would have had some too if he wasn’t constantly touching your head.

With that, he places his hands on either side of you on the wooden banister that outlined the luxurious deck. He rests his chin on top of your head, his eyes reflecting the green and purple hues of light that nature put on for the two of you. 

After a long stretch of peace and quiet, you hear the faint sound of scratching in the snow. When you look down, you find Sylus dragging his finger through the fallen snow on the banister to draw two small pictures. 

“What are you drawing?” you ask.

He smiles, kissing your cheek as he reveals the two semi-finished works of art to your gaze. With his pointer finger, he draws two carets on one of the circles. “A mother kitten,” he murmurs, drawing two smaller carets on the tinier circle. “And her baby kitten.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re silly.”

“Silly?” he soon echoes. Evidently, your habit of censoring your language around your daughter has even bled into your conversations with adults. It was a tooth rotting-ly adorable habit you had that Sylus adored. “That’s an interesting way to describe a man in love.”

Your skin tingles in the wake of his fingertips brushing your hair away from your neck, his other hand coming up to rest on the curve of your shoulder. “Oh? What would a better word have been?”

“Hmm…” He kisses your cheek. “Enamored.” He kisses your jaw. “Smitten.” He kisses your neck. “Besotted.” He kisses the curve of your shoulder. “Lovestruck.” 

A hearty laugh consumes you as you inch away from his ticklish kisses, your hand coming up to rest on the back of his head. “Okay, okay!”

He chuckles too, cupping your chin to turn your head to face him once more. “Though I must say, my original verbiage was the most accurate.” His breath was warm and comforting as it found your forehead, and the longing press of his lips followed it. “I am in love. With you, with the life that we created together, with the life that you have given me. Just… in love.”

Your smile is far too wide to hide now, a sight that threatens to bring your husband to his knees, right here on the snowy porch. “I love you too.” And somehow, your words still paled in comparison to the sweetness of your grin, the curve of your lips and the crinkle of your eyes. “Hey… aren’t you cold now?”

Entirely distracted, Sylus buries his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent that always managed to make his legs feel weak without fail. “Mm-mm. Not really,” he murmurs, one of his large hands curving around your waist. “Not when I have my beautiful wife to keep me warm.”

There was that damn smile of yours again. So gorgeous, so natural, so… you. If lovesickness could be medically diagnosed, he would be the first known patient without a doubt. It wasn’t until you spoke again that Sylus blinks three times in a row, forcing his eyes to meet yours once again.

“Not really isn’t a total no, though,” you simply say.

His thumb brushes away the few water droplets that the melting snow had left on your cheeks that are warm with a blush he’s sure the cold weather hadn’t produced alone. “In that case, what would be your preferred method of warming us up?”

“Well…” you say with a dreamy sigh, turning around to face him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I think I saw a fireplace in the master bedroom when we sat down our suitcases.”

(Correction: Sylus carried and sat the bags down, and you watched with lovestruck eyes as you marveled over how this man could be even more perfect. It honestly worked best that way.)

“I like the way you think, sweetie.” 

In one swift motion, he scoops you up off the deck and carries you to the sliding glass door with one of his arms while his free hand reaches for the door handle. Pulling it open, he walks inside, but he has no clear intent of setting you down.

“Hey,” you say, poking his cheek. “I have two working feet, you know.”

He smiles, kissing your finger while his free hand expertly works at the straps of your heels. One by one, they fall onto the hardwood floor as the two of you make your way to the bedroom.

“I know,” is all he replies with.

“So… why haven’t you set me down?” you ask, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Just because my beautiful woman has two feet doesn’t mean she should be expected to use them,” he murmurs, crouching down to turn on the electric fireplace in the room. “Maybe I enjoy being your in-home transportation service.”

You chuckle. “Is that so?”

He can only nod, peppering a few kisses along your cheek that was now illuminated by the warm lights flickering inside of the fireplace. “It is.”

Sylus takes a seat on the edge of the bed, setting you sideways in his lap as he holds you close to his chest. Your head finds its familiar home on his shoulder, and he tilts his own to lean against yours. 

One of his hands settles on your back while the other runs long strides along your legs, the chilly feeling of his wedding ring gliding along your skin makes your muscles involuntarily tense. 

A nearly silent laugh spilled from his lips, his hand slipping beneath your closed thighs so that the metallic band would warm up. His eyes flit to you, the way your skin glows in the hue that the fire is casting onto the two of you. 

You were a sight for sore eyes. You were so perfect that he was inclined to believe that you could have been a figment of his imagination, a physical embodiment of his deepest desires. But you were here, in his arms. His wife. The mother of his child. 

Every lifetime with you had led him to this moment, and he would do it all over again if it meant that you were his. Because here, in the world that you two created, you were real. You were here. All that he has ever wanted, all that he could ever want—it’s you. 

Tears glossed over his eyes and he hadn’t even noticed. His hand gave your thigh a small squeeze, his head turning just enough to kiss your forehead. “You’re so beautiful.”

You smile, leaning into his touch. “So are you.” After a beat of silence, you turn in his lap to face him. “I’m warmed up now. Are you?”

He nods with a single jerk of his chin. “I am.”

Shifting around, you move to straddle his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck, and his hands settle on your hips. “I think it’s getting too warm in here.”

Sylus chuckles, giving your sides a gentle brush of his thumbs. “Are you suggesting I take you back outside and leave you to the elements? You’ll catch a cold, sweetie. We don’t want that, do we?”

You shake your head with a huff. “No, we don’t. But… there are other ways of cooling off you know.” 

To emphasize your point, your fingers find their way to the buttons of his shirt, slowly and tentatively popping them open one by one. His eyebrows raise, watching your expression as inch after inch of his toned torso is bared to your eyes. 

Curving a hand around your waist, he pinches the ribbon tying your dress together in between his thumb and forefinger. He inches closer—close enough for you to feel his breath on your lips—until he speaks. “Can I?”

Without hesitation, you nod and give him your permission. In turn, he slowly tugs on the fabric, watching the way your dress loosens and how it slowly begins to fall down your shoulders. 

Your eyes meet, and a smile tugs on the corners of your mouth as you notice the rosy hue that crept up onto Sylus’s ears and cheeks. It was something you never got tired of seeing, that blush of his. 

It was almost comical how his eyes lit up the moment your chest was revealed to his hungry gaze, and his fingertips gently brush over the fabric of your bra that covers your nipple. 

“Is this new?” he asks you, giving both of your breasts a firm knead.

You nod, placing your hands on his shoulders as the straps slowly fall down your arms. “Yeah. You like?”

“I love,” he replies, lowering his head to kiss along the valley of your breasts. A low groan leaves his mouth as his tongue laves over your skin, tasting you for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’ve missed these, pretty girl.”

His hands work at the clasp of your bra, undoing it in one swift moment before slowly tugging the garment down and off your arms. A sudden gasp leaves you as his lips wrap around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the pointed peak. 

Your hand snakes up the nape of his neck and into his hair, earning a deep groan from his mouth that vibrated against your skin. You could feel his cock quickly hardening beneath your bottom, the fabric of his slacks doing very little to conceal his more than obvious arousal. 

“Sy,” you whine, your hips instinctively working to grind your clothed sex over his bulge. You needed more, needed to feel him in a way you haven’t in so long. 

His hands latch onto your hips, halting your movements as he presses a faint kiss on your nipple after he releases it. “Don’t squirm,” he states, his voice low and full of command. “I need to take my time with you.”

And you believe him. This far surpassed want for him, this was a need. His need. His tone leaves very little room for argument or doubt, no matter how much you wish it did. Another sound of impatience and need leaves you as he sucks your neglected peak into his mouth, his iron grip still holding you still in his lap. 

In one swift, dizzying motion, he lowers you onto the bed. Your back hits the plush comforter, and he shifts to settle between your legs. He kneels on the mattress, shrugging off his unbuttoned shirt that you had begun to remove earlier. 

His hands then pull your dress down your legs, letting the fabric slip onto the floor near the bed. His lips press to your ankle as he looks down at you, his hands mapping out the skin of your thighs and calves as he hoists your legs up until the heels of your feet rest on his shoulders. 

Blinking twice, you feel a heavy sense of anticipation swirling in your lower stomach. You reach out, hooking a finger inside of his belt loop to try and tug him closer. He doesn’t budge. 

“Sylus,” you whine.

He can only grin, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your inner legs—your calves, your knees, your thighs—until he flattens onto his stomach. “I’ve never known you to be so impatient, baby.” 

You huff, tilting your head to the side. “And I’ve never known you to hold out on me.”

Clicking his tongue, he nuzzles his cheek against the warm skin of your inner thigh. “Holding out? No, that can’t be right.” His voice has a teasing lilt, one that would make you want to say something snarky in reply, but his mouth quickly distracts you from the idea. 

His lips leave soft kisses along the damp fabric of your panties, pointing his tongue to leave light kitten licks around your clit. You squirm, but his grip on your hips returns to keep you in place. 

“I’ve left my poor wife so pent up,” he whispers, ending his sentence with an open-mouthed kiss on your cunt. His fingers hook beneath the waistband, tugging them down your legs just enough for them to dangle around your ankles. “It’s only right I pay you a personal visit.”

And you almost scream when his mouth meets your pussy directly, dragging the muscle up and down to gather your slick on his tongue. He groans unabashedly, grasping onto your thighs to yank you even closer to his hungry mouth. 

He sucks your clit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks. Your hands fly to his hair, hips bucking off the mattress as much as his grip on your thighs would allow them to. Grasping onto his soft silver locks, you nearly lose yourself when he fucks his tongue inside of you. 

“Sylus!” you pant, thighs pressing in on his head as he groans. “I—I can’t—I’m going to...”

Your warning is cut off by yet another whine, one that his groaning brought on. The hot sensations of his mouth and the trembling vibration of his voice stimulates your sensitive pearl, his words limited to coos of “I know, I know” that force you to come with a particularly hard grasp on his hair. 

All the while, he slows his movements, opting to give you faint licks as you come down from the intensity of your orgasm. A sigh of relief leaves your lips, and your smile returns with it. 

Kissing your mound one final time, he crawls up to meet you once more, his forearm bracing his weight as he towers over you. He chuckles as you bring your hand up to wipe away the wetness on his chin, prompting him to capture your wrist and kiss your palm. 

And when your hands then run down his toned torso to reach the belt of his slacks, a strained laugh leaves him. “Ah. Do you still feel that I’m holding out on you, sweetie?” 

“No,” you answer, undoing his belt and popping open the button of his trousers. “I just want to feel you.”

Sylus smiles, his biceps tightening up as he lowers himself just enough to leave a longing kiss on your lips. “I can do that for you, baby.”

As he begins to undress, all you can feel is a ball of nerves settling inside of you. You haven’t been intimate in this way in what felt like years, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little nervous. After all, much has changed since the last time and…

His hand comes up to cup your cheek, as if he had noticed the worry set into your beautiful face. “Sweetheart,” he softly whispers to snap you out of your thoughts. “I need you and your beautiful mind to stay with me. Can you do that?”

Sucking in a short breath, you nod your head. “I can do that.”

Kicking away the last of his clothing, he settles in between your parted thighs once more. “Spread your legs a little more for me, there you go.” 

His hands map out the dips and curves of your body, settling back onto his forearm beside your head while the other runs along his aching length. He runs his tip along your folds, gathering your slick for lubricant. And then, he slides his arm beneath your back, holding you firmly against his chest. 

“Hold onto me,” he murmurs, his breath hitching as the head of his cock catches your entrance. You listen, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

His cock slowly nudges inside of you, stretching you open with a sense of familiarity. Your nails dig into his back, leaving red welts in your wake. He keeps his movements slow and steady, easy rolls of his hips to fuck you long and deep, letting you feel every inch of him. 

“Feeling alright, sweetie?” he asks you, peppering soft, reverent kisses along your jaw and cheek as he begins to find a steady pace. 

You quickly nod, one of your hands delving into his hair. “Yes,” you breathe, clenching around him like a vice. “Feels so good, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“I’ve missed you so much, pretty,” he whispers, kissing your skin from your cheek to your jaw to your neck, his plush lips brushing against you in time with each snap of his hips. “You feel so perfect. I love you. I love you so much.”

His mouth finds yours in a sloppy kiss, one that was messy and disorganized but undoubtedly perfect. A whirlwind of whimpers and gasps leave the both of you, but the feeling of your thundering heartbeats pounding against your chests is what grounded you both. His hand next to your head strokes over your hair while the other grasps onto your hip. 

“I love you too,” you say against his lips, your nails on his back, holding him impossibly closer to you. 

One of Sylus’s hands shoots up, grasping firmly onto the headboard in an attempt to hold himself back. He needed this to be perfect—for you, his perfect wife who only deserved his best. 

You can feel the way his back muscles contort in the new position, prompting you to grasp onto him even more. “I’m close,” you manage.

His fingertips dig into the wooden frame enough for the sound of splintering to rip through the air, but Sylus pays it no mind. His attention is on you, the softness of your eyes and the parting of your lips. 

And when you clench around him and your sweet sounds fill the air, he knows that holding back is no use. It’s impossible. His pace staggers as he chases his own orgasm. Tensing up inside of you, you feel the way his seed floods inside of your inner channels, filling you up with the proof of his undying love for you.

For a long moment, all you can do is hold each other close. You breathe heavily into each other’s warm skin, exchanging stolen kisses and the smallest of smiles. 

Sylus finally releases the headboard with a huff, prompting you to tilt your head up and look at the damage. A gasp leaves you, your brows furrowing together. “Sylus!”

His eyebrow quirks up as he follows your gaze, finding that he had, in fact, splintered the wood under his vice-like grip. He sucks on his teeth, turning to face you again. “It’s alright. It’s just a… happy accident.” 

“A happy accident?” you echo, watching as he makes his way over to the en suite. “This bed frame probably cost a fortune.”

When he returns, he has a damp cloth in his hand and both of your bath robes. He settles between your legs once more, carefully wiping up the mess that he had made of you. “Mm-hmm. That it did.”

You raise an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

He shrugs, wiping himself clean before disposing of the cloth in the laundry hamper. He then wraps you up in the silken robe, following suit for himself. “Because I bought it just for us, sweetie.”

A gasp of surprise leaves your kiss-bitten lips as he scoops you up into his arms and walks you both towards the kitchen. “You did? But…we’ve never even thought of staying here until now.” 

“When we first started dating, I ensured that the furniture at each of my properties was well equipped to handle two guests,” he states as if it were obvious. “Though now, I should begin the furnishing process again to make plenty of room for three.” 

Your smile widens. “You’re such a softie.”

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

The following morning, sunlight cut through the maroon curtains that drape over the gaping windows of the bedroom. You rolled over onto your side, only to be met with Sylus’s back. 

Your eyes finally crack open, your fingertips slowly tracing over the scratches that you had left behind last night. Then, you snake a hand around his waist. He places his hand on top of yours to give it a lazy squeeze. 

“Good morning, sweetie,” he says, his voice still thick with sleep. 

“Good morni—”

Your voice was cut off by the sound of Sylus’s cell phone ringing on the bedside table. With a groan, he reaches out, tapping on the pesky green button to answer a call from Luke and Kieran. 

He winces at the sound of their loud and excited voices, rolling onto his back to throw an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side. 

“Boss!” their voices cut through the speaker at the same time. “We came up with something that has little sweetie cracking up! Wanna hear it?”

“Go ahead.”

“Watch this, watch this,” Luke says into the receiver as if Sylus could see their escapades through the voice call. “Your mommy is the original sweetie, you are the little sweetie, and you daddy is the…” His voice cuts off for dramatic effect, before it blares through the speaker once again. “Big sweetie!”

You find yourself laughing at the sound of your daughter cracking up over the line, evidently having a great time with Uncle Luke and Uncle Kieran and their jokes that only an infant could find humorous. Sylus glances down at you with a glare, as if he were silently asking you a question.

You shake your head. “What? I didn’t tell them anything.”

𝑛𝘰𝘵𝑒. not that anyone asked but i’ve been working on my first series on this app and i’m motivated to write for the first time in forever :,) it’s for love and deepspace (of course) and it revolves around caleb. i’m lowkey nervous to post thoooo i might try and get a few beta readers to see if it’s any good. anywho thank you for reading, rb/comment if you enjoyed <3

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

[ssahotchnerr]

possible idea for married hotch since you asked for requests😋 (and cause i love your writing)

maybe one where he gets injured and with the rest of the bau he’s just brushing it off but when wifey pulls up? different story.

he’s just all 🥺🥺 at her and the team is like wtaf?

also can i be 🌊 anon pretty please?

healing touches

i love that 🥺🥺🤕 cw; bau fem!reader, established relationship (hehe they're soooo in love), injury/blood descriptions, aaron being stubborn🙄, playful banter, fluff <333

The first SUV arrived back at the police department after apprehending the unsub. Morgan, JJ and Prentiss walked inside, pulling their vests off in sync.

You might have been mistaken, but their gazes immediately locked onto you as they removed their protective gear. Their stares were almost unsettling, as if they knew something you didn’t, and were waiting to see the rest unfold. Unease filled you from head to toe.

"Hey," you stacked a few files together, placing them down. "How'd it go? Did you get him?"

"Yeah, 'course we did." Morgan sauntered over, dropping his vest onto the table with a thud.

"Well," Emily added, a slight grimace on her face. "Not without putting up a relentless fight. It wasn't pretty, I'll tell you that."

A bad feeling formed in your gut. Even Spencer's attention was gained, his head lifting from his book.

"What do you me-"

Your words were interrupted by Aaron and JJ walking in. JJ, perfectly fine. Aaron on the other hand, was moving at a much slower speed than normal, definitely banged up with a fair amount of blood present on his face.

Your eyes widened in alarm, meeting him halfway.

"Oh my god, Aaron. Are you okay?" You immediately unstrapped his vest for him, tucking it under your arm. The lessening pressure seemed to help some, light tension lifting from his body.

Your hand raised to cup his jaw, moving it gently to observe the damage. There was definitely a developing bruise underneath his right eye, his forehead and cheek were both littered with scrapes of all shapes and sizes. Aaron winced when his head reached a particular angle, and it wasn't a subtle wince either. It was a startling jolt, agonizing pain obvious.

But it was at your touch, and your presence, that his eyes softened. The stagnant sharpness dissolving as he looked at you with a tenderness that was almost too raw to hide. You pulled back to get a better look at him as whole, ensuring he was fully intact.

"He's 'fine', in case you were wondering. Only told us 'bout a million times." Morgan added air quotes, sitting down and kicking his feet onto the table. "Refused medical attention, even."

"Manners." You swatted his foot, causing him to lower them before turning back to Aaron. You tutted at him softly, "You did? After that lil stunt you just pulled?"

"Well... I guess it is starting to hurt more now."

"I wonder why," JJ commented humorously under her breath, hiding her smile with her palm. Additionally, Emily and Derek gave him a look.

You quickly reached into your bag, riffling through it until you found your handy tube of Neosporin. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."

Aaron didn't argue, didn't utter a single word as he followed you to the bathroom like a lost puppy. Once inside the small space you maneuvered him back against the sink, washing your hands next.

"That was stupid of you." You wet a paper towel, dabbing his cuts and ridding of any dry blood, once again causing him to flinch at the touch. You pulled the towel away, pausing a moment, before resuming gently. "Even if you think you're not in need of getting checked out, please do, for my sake at least. I'd like my husband to stay in one piece if possible."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"What happened?"

"We were clearing the grounds and he managed to catch me by surprise," Aaron huffed out, evidently annoyed at himself. "I should have seen it coming. Seen him in the shadows, reacted faster."

"Baby, you may think you have the invincibility of Superman, but you don't. You're human, it's okay to miss things every once and a while." You reassured him softly, tossing the towel aside and moving onto the Neosporin. After dabbing some onto your index finger, you began blotting it thoroughly onto the cuts. "Which I'm fine with, by the way, you're much better looking."

"Yeah?" A laugh escaped Aaron, but his chuckle was interrupted by the twinge in his ribcage, the entirety of it shooting up in pain.

"I'm sorry," you gasped gently, guilt sweeping through you.

"It's fine, 'm fine." He breathed out through his teeth, his jaw clenching momentarily, until the pain subsided. "I'm okay sweetheart. Now c'mon, your face is far too pretty to look that worried."

Your eyebrows were furrowed, eyes frantically searching his face.

"Really. So I'm a little bruised up, I've been through far worse."

You sighed, not entirely convinced. "Fine. But when we get home tomorrow," your eyes narrowed slightly, pointing the Neosporin at him as a 'threat'. "You're resting. Come hell or high water."

"Deal."

"I'm happy you're okay." Suddenly emotional, tears dared to spill from your eyes. They stalled at your waterline, completely blurring your vision. You hated to see him in pain, and the reminder of past events didn't help. "Don't scare me like that."

"C'mere," Aaron raised his arms, gesturing for you to come close.

"I don't want to hurt you-"

"Come here."

You took a step forward, not raising your arms to potentially inflict pain, but rest your body against his. Your face found home in the crook of his neck, while his arms did wrap around you. Not as tight as usual, but enough to hold you and not hurt.

"I'm fine," he kissed the side of your head. "And I have my girl to thank for that. Although, you did miss a spot."

"I did? Where?" You pulled back, beginning to unscrew the tube's cap but Aaron's hand stopped you.

"Right here." He pointed to his lips, playing up the 'anguish' in his eyes. "Hurts real bad."

Your lips tugged into a smile, leaning in and offering him a short, sweet kiss.

"That's all I get?"

You playfully rolled your eyes before giving his lips another quick kiss. He chased your lips, but you pulled back, keeping just out of reach.

"Want a longer one? Get medical attention next time."

[travelingmaster-inspirations]

I blinked a few times as I felt myself 'wake up' and come back to the present.

The feeling was incredibly familiar and a quick look at my phone confirmed what I already knew. My texting app was opened and the last thing I sent into the conversation was a selfie I didn't remember taking. Considering the fact that I was relaxing on my balcony, I was glad that the compelled selfie I took of myself was so tame because really, it could have been MUCH more embarrassing.

That in itself was a little out of character so I decided to scroll up and smiled when I noticed that there were 3 more pictures I didn't remember sending him. All were from earlier in the day and just like the last one I sent, I had no memory of taking or sending them. I hadn't 'woken up' after I took them so I was completely oblivious to the fact that I had sent him a few nude pictures of myself as I got ready before breakfast.

Looking at my expressionless face, I couldn't help but still be fascinated with my impossible situation. I mean... With the exception of a few very strict rules, I'm mostly free to live my life as if my hypnotic subjugation had never happened. So far, I've kept my job and still see my friends on a regular basis, yet, I'm well aware that I'm only allowed all those things so the people around me don't catch on that, for the last few months, I've been my Master's helpless thrall.

I never even dreamed that something like this was even possible and thinking back on it now, it's probably why I felt no reservations when Master first approached me and asked if it was ok if he tried to hypnotize me. I remember thinking that he wasn't cute enough to warrant my attention, but since the evening hadn't turned out as fun as I had hoped, I decided to humor him thinking that if I played my cards right I would, at the very least, be able to squeeze out a few free drinks out of it.

I was fully committed to 'playing along' and listened intently to his words, however, I wasn't expecting his induction to actually work. The next thing I knew, the party was over and most of my friends were already gone because apparently, I had told them all not to wait for me. The notion that I had somehow lost a part of my evening didn't even register as an overwhelming need to leave the party washed over me. As I disappeared into the cool night air, I figured my evening fun was over so I made my way home. Only, once I was safely inside and I turned to walk into my living room, I found myself utterly confused because I wasn't at all inside my home.

My confusion didn't last for too long once I turned and noticed the man standing next to me. Suddenly, I remembered that I had agreed to go home with him and as I did, a powerful wave of arousal invaded every cell of my body. It didn't matter to me that I hadn't gone to the party to find myself a man to bed, all I cared about was that I wanted HIM with every carnal fiber of my body. After our first fevered kiss, my evening quickly became a blur of pleasure and blackouts. Of course at the time, I believed that my blackouts were a side effect of the intense orgasms he gave me. However, the reality I learned later on was that those pieces of missing time were actually trances.

When I left his place the next morning, all I knew was that I had an incredibly fun night with a quirky guy that fancied himself a hypnotist. I had no clue whatsoever that he had used every spare moment to drop me so he could repeatedly implant a special set of words that would place me right back into a deep obedient trance. But then again, even if I had been aware that he tranced me during our evening together, I would probably not even have been worried about it because I had no clue whatsoever that hypnosis could implant such long-lasting suggestions and triggers. 

Because you see, at the time, I still thought hypnosis was just a clever party trick with willing conspirators. With everything that has happened since then however, I'm well aware that hypnosis, when skillfully applied to a naive suggestible mind like mine, can completely re-write someone's mental landscape.

I'm not sure how many times he called to trance me, but by the time I found myself going back to his place, I was already calling him Master without realizing it. I remember feeling a little disappointed when he proposed to trance me instead of just enjoying ourselves, but since I was already feeling rather compliant, I didn't protest and played along as he 'officially' hypnotized me again.

I was much less disappointed when I woke up from that deep trance with one of the most powerful orgasms I had ever experienced. He didn't let me enjoy it as much as I wished though because he sank me right back into trance before I could fully savor the aftermath of my pleasure. He repeated that process again and again as he pushed my mind back and forth between the heights of pleasure and the depths of trance. Even if it was unbearably confusing, I dove into the experience without realizing that it was actually a hypnosis technique that was meant to bring me deeper than I had gone before.

I was so out of it that it took me a long while to realize that the trance part of our evening was over and that the pleasure I was feeling wasn't due to his hypnotic play, but the powerful thrust of his cock as he fucked me back to reality. I was such an erotic confused mess that I completely submitted to whatever he wanted. He changed our position multiple times and I was just along for the ride. Heck, I didn't even complain when he decided to end our romp by having me suck him off even though I hated doing that with my lovers.

I just felt so utterly compliant and grateful that I wanted to do anything I could to return the favor. I've sucked his cock many times since then, but none of those times quite comes close to the euphoria I felt when he finally came in my mouth. In some strange way, even the pleasure I feel when we fuck isn't as profound as what I felt when I went down on him that first time.

My mind was so out of it that I didn't even consider the fact that I had never experienced such pleasures when I blew my lovers. It just... Didn't occur to me that he could use hypnosis in a way that would make the act of fellating him mildly addictive.

I left his place completely hooked on the pleasure I experienced so I went to him again and again. We continued to play with my mind in ways I couldn't understand, but deeply enjoyed. All the while, I unknowingly dove deeper into my submissiveness towards him as I found myself with a growing need to cater to his every desire.

Even when his increasingly specific desires included collars and slave-like role play, I didn't think anything of it and gave myself to the experience so I could somehow repay him for all the wonders he was showing me.

What finally tipped me off that it wasn't all role play was when I woke up from a particularly deep trance to find myself sitting at my kitchen table. It was disorienting to say the least, but what made it even more confusing was the piece of paper laid out in front of me. Before I could even look around to see where he was, I felt compelled to read its contents aloud. I was still somewhat dazed from the trance, so I didn't really care how or why I was doing it, however, as I finally understood the words I was speaking, I realized with a certain amount of shock that it was a list of rules.

MY rules...

For a confusing moment, I wondered if this wasn't just another part of his elaborate role play, but as I read each rule, I slowly realized that they were anything BUT role play. Some of the rules were clearly meant to be applied when I was with him, but a lot of them had no connection to our playtime at all and were clearly implied that he was claiming me as his true slave.

I was shocked that he assumed he could exert so much control over my daily life, but even so, with each rule I read, I felt my excitement and arousal grow at the thought of it. In fact, it grew so much that I could barely bring myself to read the last rule out loud without openly moaning. When I finally managed, I couldn't hold back anymore and came hard when I felt compelled to add that I would obey every single one of them.

Coming back down from that impossible release was like waking up from a dream. It was like I could finally truly see him for the first time. I watched him through seemingly new eyes as he confidently wrapped a collar around my neck and declared that I was his. That he owned me...

There was no spike of denial...

No troubled or worried thoughts...

All I felt in that moment of strange clarity was pleasure as I embraced the fact that our kinky role play had evolved into something very real. Every trance and command felt somehow different and more potent after that special evening. It’s like that list of rules had somehow erased the last traces of denial or resistance or whatever made me doubt the control he truly had over me. For example, he had wrapped a collar around my neck before, but when he did so after I came that night, I finally became aware of everything it meant.

I belonged to him… Mind, body and soul…

That’s become the first thought I have when I wake up in the morning and the last one to cradle me to sleep at night. There’s nothing I can do to change that simple fact, but then again, it’s definitely not something I WANT to change either.

I’m completely content to be his property and serve his every desire whenever he visits or compels me to go to him. I mean… It’s not like I have a choice either way, but I’ve found that it excites me to no end to know that with a few simple words or a snap of his fingers, he can send my mind away in it’s own little blissed out world while he implants new compulsions and triggers that I’ll obey as surely as if I was a computer executing a line of program.

Like right now…

I know he’s just tranced me and I can feel that he’s probably left instructions in my subconscious because I can feel this growing sense of unease as I calmly bask in the afternoon sun.

Does it mean he’s about to visit me?

Does it mean I’m about to go blank and walk myself to his apartment?

Or maybe it means that I’m about to do something else his creative kinky mind wants me to do in the confines of my apartment…

I’ll have no way to know exactly what he instructed me to do until I actually do. Well… To be more precise… I won’t know until he lets me remember!

If he ever does…

Regardless of what it might be, whenever he plays with me I get impossibly turned on and I can’t wait to feel all the rewards my enthrallment to him brings me…

[azsazz]

Destination Unknown (Part 2)

Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Reqs: destination-unknown I still cannot let this one go, the best thing I’ve ever read on this app 😭 I wish he would choose us in another part // Writing this to notify you about the urgent need for pt2 of the following Rhys fics: waiting for the creation of Destination unknown

Warnings: N/A

Word Count:

(Part 1)

Notes: It's been over 2 years since part 1 😅 If any of the OG's are here, you're troopers! ily 💙 breaking my own heart with this one too

_________________________________________

“The girl that saved us. She’s my mate.” The words rattle in your head again and again and a-godsdamned-gain.

The crinkle of the paper in your hands draws your attention to the present. You sigh, dropping the paper to the familiar deep cherry desk. The one that you’ve been sitting at for the last fifty years while the man you loved was trapped by a vicious witch under the mountain.

This place—Rhysand’s office within the House of Wind—had once been your place of solace. Your beacon of hope. You and the High Lord of the Night Court had spent a healthy amount of time in this room of the house, first as his second in command, and then as his lover. It had been one of the places you swore you could still feel him when he was prisoner beneath her reign.

You had taken over like any second would, made sure that Velaris stayed hidden and safe. There weren’t many executive decisions to be made in the last fifty years, menial things like the agreement to build a new wing of the Rainbow, making sure that the city could still deal and trade without being snuffed out.

Now, this office serves as a reminder. A reminder of what you lost. The male that you gave your heart to, the same one who’d survived the horrors of Amarantha’s reign, made it back to the Night Court safely, with another woman’s name on his lips.

Feyre, he’d admitted, violet eyes wide and haunted with not only the horrors he so desperately tried to lock away, but with shock and surprise. He found his mate, the voice in your head rings again.

As much as it tears your heart to shreds, Rhysand deserves nothing more. You’ve always had an inkling that you weren’t his mate. He’d occasionally make offhanded comments about dreams he had, visions, he’d sometimes call them. Listening to the horrors he’d been through, surrounded by the rest of his Inner Circle, those sights had made sense.

It’s been two weeks since Rhysand has been back. Recovering. Mor had taken it upon herself as caregiver to her cousin. Cassian and Azriel visited the High Lord in his wing of the house often. Amren, too. The side you couldn’t bring yourself to pay visit to.

He’s asked for you. You can’t count the number of times Mor has barged into this very office—the one you rarely leave these days—and demanded that you come see him. That you’re hurting him worse by staying away. Now that Rhysand is back, that Amarantha is gone for good and the city no longer has to hide, there are things to do, cities to check in on, damage that needs to be assessed, and courts that need correspondence.

It's given you an escape. You can’t muster up the confidence to go visit Rhysand just as he can’t do the same to visit you. You’re terrified of what he’ll say, the very thing you’ve been trying to wrap your head around since the night of his return. To accept the inevitable.

That he’s no longer yours.

You smooth the wrinkled paper out on the desk, trying to refocus. It’s late. A gentle breeze sweeps in through the balcony doors, a chill that skitters down your back. The stars and moon shine brightly in the sky, and for a moment, you envy their light, their happiness. It seems that they’re even brighter since the return of the High Lord.

You can’t help that your mind wanders. To her. You wonder what she looks like, how she acts. She must be confident, strong-willed. She must be beautiful. You hope more than anything that she’s kind. She must be, for a human to give her life to save the Fae, the same ones that have abandoned the human-realm for their own selfish reasons.

In a way, it makes sense. Of course, the female who could take down someone as powerful as Amarantha would be Rhys’ mate.

There’s a soft knock on the study room door. One that makes you freeze. It’s not Mor, because she wouldn’t have knocked, she would have stormed into the room, he bouncy, blonde hair swishing behind her shoulders and a fire in her eyes. The both of you have leaned on each other for fifty years, you consider her one of your closest friends. But not even she could convince you to see Rhysand.

You’ve tried, too. Tried to make it to that side of the house, to where, admittedly, you’d slept in his bed the entirety of his time away. When you could sleep, that is. Surrounded by the night-chilled scent of him, lingering on the pillows.

The abrupt change from not sleeping there at all has been taxing.

You stand when the door cracks, busy yourself with the papers scattered around the desk. They’re organized perfectly, but you leaf through them again. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, not even when he enters the room fully and the doors snicks behind him.

Your name is a mummer. Relief? Maybe. Sorrow. Yes. The. Sound makes your throat tighten. You never thought you’d hear your name on his lips again.

The papers in your hands crinkle again.

You don’t know what to say. Your throat is clogged with emotion and your heartbeat is a racing mess. Your knees are seconds from giving out. Your fingers are trembling. You’re not ready for this, not ready to face him again.

You can feel those violet eyes on you like you have a thousand times before. Can feel the way he’s drinking you in. Or maybe he’s comparing you to how you looked the night he left, the same disheveled hair but for a much different reason. You’re sure you look worse with the dark circles under your eyes and the way your shoulders sag like there’s a hundred pounds draped across them.

Suddenly, you feel underdressed. You should have cleaned up your appearance, taken a shower, ran a brush through your hair.

Tears sting your eyes when your sabotaging mind tells you that it no longer matters.

You stack the papers together and tap them on the desk. “I’ve kept everything as much of the same as I could.” It’s difficult to admit, but talking about what’s been going on in the City of Starlight is a safe topic. Surely, he will want to know, will want to visit soon, show that he’s still the strong and in charge High Lord he was. “You’ll read about it in my reports.”

You say it like you’re ready to resign your position. You’d hate it if you could no longer help the city that you’ve loved and spent the last fifty years managing. Your heart breaks a little in your chest.

You’ve spent every moment since Rhysand’s come home writing the report. Spent every day of the last fifty years writing it, to be honest. In case there was a day that he’d come back. You haven’t left out a single detail.

The past two weeks have been spent refining it, removing some of the more inappropriate stories and comments now that he’s found his other half.

He says your name again, louder this time. You can hear the hurt in his tone, but he doesn’t move closer.

You continue to brush him off. Your head is spinning and you can barely breathe. You don’t know what to do. It feels as if the two of you are strangers. “Now that you’re back, I need to check on all of the other cities and camps within the Court,” your voice is tired. You don’t know what to think. He’s back, and he has a mate. Someone he’s destined to fall in love with. It hurts. “I’ve sent missives. I’m headed out in the morning.”

“Please,” he begs, and the emotion in his voice gives you pause. Makes your heart break. You know it isn’t easy, to be so vulnerable after having to be so strong for half a century. Tears sting your eyes. The tips of Rhysand’s shoes enter your line of vision. “Please, look at me.”

You shake your head and swallow thickly. If you look at him, see the devastation in his eyes, worse, the hope for his mate, it will destroy you. You know it will.

“Autumn has written, too,” you continue, but your voice trembles so much you’re not sure you can continue. You can gallivant all around the continent, but it won’t change the fact that the male you love is back, and has a mate. Eventually, you’ll come home, and when you do, maybe she’ll be here, maybe they’ll be joyous and in love and— “They’re asking for resources, to help rebuild.”

This time, he doesn’t hesitate. An unknown force drives him around the edge of the desk, and before you know it the papers in your hands are hitting the wood and you’re facing him, your chin tilting up by his gentle hands.

Tears leak from the corners of your eyes and you clamp them shut before they latch onto those violet pools you know so well. You don’t want to see the heartbreak in them. You don’t want to see the remorse. You can’t. You’re not ready to give him up, because he’s all that. You’ve ever loved and—

“Please,” he says brokenly, so helplessly that you can’t help yourself.

You peek open your eyes.

And Rhysand looks utterly crushed.

His own eyes are filled with tears. Fingers trembling as his thumbs stroke your cheeks, catching the unstoppable rivers.

He looks almost exactly like he had the night he left. Older, somehow. His violet eyes aren’t lit with excitement and arousal, but burnt out with the horrors of what he’s been through. You can’t even imagine what happened to him in those fifty years, but you know Rhysand well enough to know that he would have done anything to protect his people, to help in any way that he could.

There are no words to be exchanged. You and him have always been like this, on the same page. You know exactly what he’s thinking, and you know exactly what he is.

You sob into him as he presses his mouth against yours. You cling to his arms, digging your nails into his skin. It’s a desperate kiss, too harsh and your teeth clack together in a disjointed plea. It feels nothing like you know. It feels final.

Like this is the last taste of him you’re ever going to get.

“Darling,” his voice breaks when you part. In this moment, you know. That this is all real. Rhysand is back. He’s back and he has a mate.

“I know Rhys,” your words are a wet whisper, and the smile that you try to force onto your face wobbles and falls. You clutch his arms tightly. You don’t want to let go but you know that you have to. “I know.”

[knight-a3]

Heavenbound AU

Hazbin Masterpost

Lucifer the Fallen Angel; the King of Demons; the Scapegoat

There is a lot of lore and history to go over with this one. Let me teach you a thing or two about the bible!

Notes under the cut.

--Design notes--

Between dolls, snakes, apples, circuses, ducks, etc, there were just too many motifs/thematic elements to shove onto just Lucifer. So, I streamlined and distributed. Lucifer is goat themed, Lilith is snake themed. Charlie is a mix of the two. I also use this to partly to imply that "the Devil" is not solely Lucifer. But humans mistake various different demons as one character. Lucifer is just the one who gets blamed for everything. That's part of why he's a goat; he's a scapegoat.

Goats: There was a Jewish practice during Yom Kippur to place sin onto "scapegoats" and release them into the wilderness to basically rid the people of their sin. Specifically, they were sent to "Azazel", meaning "remove from or separate from god", which refers to a desolate place.

Goats as a demonic symbol comes primarily from pagan influences rather than the Bible. I had a couple goats before settling on sheep instead, and they're just silly guys. They're not evil.

Apples- I reduced this because I think it would be more fitting for Adam and Eve. Both ate the fruit, and it didn't make them evil or anything. Also, the fruit is never stated to specifically be an apple. That only happened due to how language evolved. But I still like how his coat kinda resembles an apple core...so it can stay.

Doll- I know Charlie is meant to resemble a porcelain doll. And in canon gets it from her dad. But I don't really understand why, so I took it away from him and gave it to Lilith, since she was created and placed on earth like a doll.

King- He does not have any real authority beyond his power as a fallen seraphim. It's basically a prison, and even Lucifer is caged. Nobody bothers to respect him. So the "crown" on his hat resembles a gate or cell bars.

Ducks- I never understood the choice to associate Lucifer with ducks. And thematically, I can't really justify it. He can still like ducks, I guess. But it won't be a design motif.

Full demon: Since I'm committing to his goat theme, I figured he could have multiple horns instead of wings. He lost his wings when he fell. As an angel, his symbol was a star. As a demon, it got flipped upside down to represent a falling star. That's the pentagram. In images of the satanic goat, it often had the pentagram on its forehead, so I included that.

Angel: I want angels to look more human, so that's that.

--Wings: Seraphim are described as having 3 sets of wings. Rather than deal with all that or even try to figure out the anatomy of that, I just gave them three sets of primary feathers, which sort of imitates the 6-winged look but is easier for me to wrap my head around and draw. Also, "biblically accurate angels" aren't as biblically accurate as you think.

--Halos: I have a specific idea for how angel halos work, but I plan to get to that in a different post. For now, just know that seraphim have two halos for a reason.

--Star: A pentagram is an upside down star. It represents the fall of the morning star. So his angel symbol is a star.

Name: Helel, Lucifer, Samael

As an angel, his name was Helel, then the elder seraphim renamed him Samael after he fell, so they could pretend they're different people. He took on the name Lucifer himself after his fall.

Helel: Helel is the Hebrew word that was translated as the latin word lucifer. Helel means "shining one", while lucifer means "light bringer" or "morning star"; lucifer can also be a verb that basically means to light a match.

Lucifer: Instead of translating the word into an English equivalent, Helel was translated as the latin term, lucifer. The word lucifer is used only once in some translations of the Bible, found in the book of Isaiah, but not as a name. Lucifer was often used as an epithet for the "star" Venus, and was used to represent pride because it rose and fell before the sun. Hence why lucifer also means "morning star". In Isaiah 14:12, The king of Babylon is being called the morning star as it falls from heaven. The capitalization of lucifer was possibly a misinterpretation by the translators.

Samael is, in some Jewish stories, the husband of Lilith. So I found a way to use all three names(Helel, Lucifer, and Samael). It means something along the lines of "severity of god" or "poison or venom of god". It is also not in the Bible.

Backstory

(Feb 21, 2025- changed the flame color to blue instead of red for lore reasons. Updated title lines.)

[whatonearthbro]

crimson eyes | season1rivals!bucky x reader

warnings: teeth-rotting fluff, no smut, bucky calls reader doll once, no use of y/n, soft kissing, mentions of blood and wound, you stich bucky’s wound up

new york was as much as a hellhole figuratively as it actually was. vampires roamed the streets, and if it wasn’t vampires wrecking everything it was looters trying to get what they could to survive. you and barnes were housed together in a small, cramped apartment, as you have been for the past month and a half. there were two bedrooms, both painfully small. you got the ever so slightly larger one.

one night, bucky came home from a grocery run with a bloodied shirt. “what the hell happened? oh my god, are you ok?” you shot up from the couch and examined his arm, which was the source of the bleeding. “i’m fine. i ran into a little…problem.” he winced in pain as he put the bag down. he was bleeding out everywhere, and he still managed to bring your shared groceries home. interesting.

he sat down on a stool as you got a medkit to stich him up. he took his shirt off, and the wound wasn’t as bad as you thought. it was superficial, and it was pretty clean, thank goodness. but that wasn’t the main thing you were looking at. you were slyly looking at his chest every now and then as you stitched him up, his strong abs speckled with white hair, that gathered at his happy trail, which went lower and lower and..

“ow, fuck-“ bucky yelped as you poked the wound a little too hard as you were too busy checking him out. “shit, i’m sorry! lemme get you some tylenol real quick.” you stood up and made your way to the kitchen cabinet that hosted a couple of different medicines, and you found the pain killers. you looked back at the soldier. “do you want something to drink with this?” he looked back at you, and a bit of silence hung in the air. “water’s fine.” he said flatly.

you continued to stich him up for a couple of minutes, and the wound was completely sealed up for the most part. he had stopped bleeding mostly as well. “thank you for takin’ care of me.” he said quietly as you sat in front of him, wiping the dried blood softly with a gauze pad. “it’s my job. we’re here to take care of eachother, right?” you murmured quietly as he nodded.

“i found some things at the back of a walmart that wasn’t picked through for you. some candy and stuff.” he gestured at the bag that was filled with stuff, even a small plushie toy. you smiled excitedly and chuckled. “i..thank you. i didn’t even know candy still existed here, y’know..”

the two of you gazed at each other for a while. you felt you could get lost in those crimson eyes of his as they seemed to pierce your soul. the smile on his face faded. he placed his organic hand on your knee, and it rested there as he leaned in. a soft blush ran over his face. you could feel his warm breath on your face, and he looked at you with his one-quarter lidded eyes, “is this ok?” he whispered quietly. a hot blush ran over your face too, and your cheeks flushed. “yeah.” you remarked in a hushed tone. with slight hesitation, he learned in even more and gave you a feather-light kiss. your lips met softly as you closed your eyes, and his hands moved to your hips.

he pulled back and looked at you again, a darker shade of pink now on his face. you put a white lock of his hair behind his ear as you said, “what was that for?” you muttered. “it was.. it was a thank you.” he kissed you again, this time with more pressure, and his metallic hand cradled your face as gently as it possibly could. you kissed him back, and tangled one of your hands in his snow colored hair. he sighed in the kiss, and kissed you even deeper. his hand kneaded your plush waist as his artificial one rested on your collarbone. he broke the kiss, and he gazed at you as he licked his lips.

“you’re a good kisser.” he said as he got up. you watched him, wondering where he was going. he walked over to the walmart bag, and pulled out a king sized snickers. “wish i could of known sooner, though.” he smiled coyly and gave you the candy. “this is my favorite..” you smiled and stood up. you wrapped your arms around him, even though he somewhat towered over you. “thank you.”

he kissed your forehead softly and rested his hands around your waist. “you’re welcome, doll.”

[fanged-fanfics]

Hi hello!! :)

If it's okay to request, maybe parent figure Pure Vanilla cookie taking care and teaching Y/N child cookie how to control their powers and so!

Where the ancients didn't know about the 6th soul jam and where PV found a child somewhere outside just wandering around not knowing a single thing with soul jam attached to them.

Everything platonic!!!

Feel free to decline this! :)

☆ The Healer's Guidance — Pure Vanilla Cookie & Reader HCs ☆

Genre: Fluff, Familial || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Pure Vanilla took to you the moment he felt your soft dough beneath his touch. You poor thing, all alone and lost.. he took you in then and there, lending his home to you with open arms

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Pure Vanilla made sure you were fed first of all, and from then on you never needed to wait for a meal. He provided all you'd ever need, just happy to have you by his side

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Your powers took some time to come in, but once they did, he reassured you that it was all perfectly normal. When you still couldn't do much he spent most of his time bringing you to the other Ancients to hear anecdotes of how they use their abilities

ᯓᡣ𐭩 During your first few training experiments, an accident or two did end up happening. Every time, without fail, Pure Vanilla would bring you into his arms and soothe you while healing you back up. He shows you with his own powers that you have a gift, and not to be discouraged that it takes time to master

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Children of the Ancients felt like a second family to you growing up, as you spent quite a lot of time around them. Dark Choco especially was a frequent playmate in your younger days, and the two of you have a fond connection to this day

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Everyone seemed to have different ideas of what it meant to have such soul jam, and what the responsibility behind the power entailed. It all felt so intimidating, and sometimes the pressure would build up. Pure Vanilla was always there to lend a shoulder for you to lean on, telling you that no matter who you become, you'll always be his little doughball

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Pure Vanilla always seemed to have a way to make training fun. Little activities, score keeping, just small gestures to make sure you weren't getting dragged down too much. He was a fan of a scholarly approach, but he also knows not everyone takes to such

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He tells you he's proud of you each and every day. No matter what you do, succeed or fail, he's so proud that you at least tried. The fact that you gave it your all means you did perfect, and he couldn't be more proud of all your success

[megamagimugi]

The Cruel Fate of the Left-Behind Toad

M&L: Brothership spoilers below!

I need to talk about something that happened to me during my first playthrough of the game, because it still haunts me to this day. And I don't think it's a very common experience among the players. This is going to be a long post, so please bear with me.

You know the sidequest called "The Left-Behind Toad"? You fish and find a note in a bottle that goes like this:

"How long's it been since I was sent flying to this island? It's a small island, that's for sure. There's almost nothing on it. Just pipes. That's it. Pipes. I'm bored! Nothing to eat but grass. Only clouds for companions! Now my cap is drying out. I have little hope that I'll be rescued. But maybe throwing this message out to the sea will do something. Whoever you are, if you're reading these words, PLEASE HELP."

There's also a crumpled page saying:

"Oh, Mario and Luigi, I hope you're both doing well. Please, Princess Peach, forgive me. I won't be returning for a while."

Of course, with a message like this and the very name of the sidequest, I felt bad for that poor soul and naturally wanted to help him as soon as I could. I imagine it must be the same for most people. So I did what the game suggested and immediately went to see those adventuring brothers from Allsand. They showed me the islet in question on the ocean map. The only problem? After that interaction, I lost the way. I don't know how. I just couldn't find that darn Inphant Islet. When I tried again on my replay after beating the game, it was so easy, it was RIGHT THERE and I have no idea why I couldn't find it on the map the first time. Guess I must have gotten distracted by other sidequests and the main story soon after. I never completely forgot, though.

After an embarrassingly long time, I finally discovered that stupid islet. But it was too late and the sidequest had expired. I launched Mario and Luigi to Inphant anyway. What I found shocked me. The poor Toad had been glohmed! I still wanted to do what I could, and found my way to him through the maze of warp pipes. Sure, the fact that there was also treasure to find gave me extra motivation, but I really still wanted to help that Toad. But as one might expect, when I tried talking to him he responded in the same way all glohmed characters did. He wanted to be left alone, and there was nothing we could do. It was honestly quite heartbreaking. I didn't want to leave him there. I wanted to bring him back to Shipshape, cure him and then bring him home to the Mushroom Kingdom. But the game didn't give me any way to do that from that point onwards.

Honestly, I wish they had let us carry Toad like an object even against his will and force him to come with us. Heck, it could have even been quite a funny little scene as Toad would try to resist and protest all the time as we carry him through the pipes and then to the cannon. But alas, no such luck. The game let us know we failed and we were forced to come back with nothing except for the treasure.

Too bad I didn't take any pictures or videos of that moment. I suppose I was simply too shocked. I just couldn't believe there was nothing I could do. If the same thing happened to anyone else who does have some footage/screenshots, I'd appreciate it if you shared them in a reblog!

Think about the implications of this failure, guys. That Toad was already in a bad physical and mental state when he was writing the letter. How much time did he spend on that little island before I found him all glohmed? And then once I was forced to leave him there, the game never gave me another opportunity to rescue him. Sure, once we beat Reclusa and saved Concordia, the Glohm was gone, but then what? The islets were never part of the main land of Concordia. He was still left all alone on Inphant. Really, I'd say that his best chance of survival were those two Allsand brothers who might discover him there - but will they make it in time before he dies there?

And as I found out today when I was playing some of Brothership again using my old save files, it gets even WORSE. I swear the little dude can't catch a break.

I used a save file from the time when Reclusa has already been reborn and trapped a lot of people in those strange VR headset flowers. I deciced to visit that Toad since, even though I've already rescued him on my second try during my replay of that part, sometimes I still think about this particular timeline. And guess what! Of course that poor Toad who had already spent who knows how much time all alone on that islet was caught too! Guess the game really wanted to let me know I had royally scewed up.

This time, I have footage, so you can see for yourself what happened. Watch with the sound on and until the end.

The noise he makes at the end after I'm done talking to him? He mutters to himself like this all the time when we're on this islet, even farther away from him. His distorted voice sounds scary, too. And look at what he's saying, what he's dreaming about. I think all of this means the poor fellow lost his mind, stranded among nothing but pipes that kept confusing him. His biggest dream at this point is simply finding his way through them with ease. So, not only is he most likely going to die here, he couldn't even keep his sanity. This Toad did NOT deserve this fate. I'm so sorry for failing you, little guy :(

For me, it was hands down THE darkest part of this entire game. Even though technically it shouldn't have happened. It's definitely very dark for a Mario game. What's more, Mariowiki says:

Clearly, this is not the case. The Toad is present alright, at least in body... Or at least he was during my playthrough, heh (if nobody says it happened to them too I'm totally starting an "every copy of Brothership is personalized" rumor xD).

Anyway, if you've made it this far, thank you. I needed to share this with the world and would love to hear your thoughts. Here's a little rough doodle I drew before writing this post.

...Yeah. I'm sorry, little buddy. At least there's a timeline where I did save you <3

[playitandmakeitsincere]

my throam (maybe) hot-take

The Heart Rate of a Mouse is not primarily a love story.

I couldn't figure out why it gripped me so much as a teen but reading it again now that I'm old it's kinda obvious.

It's a story about finding a home.

Ryan is a fucked-up kid from an upbringing that made him think he could never really be loved by anyone who knew him. He had this hope that he'd found a home with Mrs Roscoe but it got shattered and he gave up looking for so long because he thought that was his only chance.

Brendon is a lost kid who had to leave his home and is desperate for the security of it again. He gets so used to being transient that he's willing to settle for Shane just because he thinks that's the best he can get.

And neither of them can let themselves have each other because they're so broken they can't believe they're allowed it. They can't trust it.

But they figure it out and they build their family in Jon and Sisky and Spencer and Vicky they finally accept that they can both 'try to have one'. And Ryan does build his home with a Roscoe, just not the one he expected.

[jupiters-starchild]

After the First Kiss

A little Rook x Harding piece I wrote about the scene where you lock in your romance with Lace. Some aftermath and fluff from that scene. Rook uses they/them pronouns

*

"Rook I said stop! I told you not to touch me!" Lace shouts annoyed as a wobbly Rook chases after her, earning laughs from the other lords of Fortune who are there to witness this ridiculousness.

Lace runs past Taash and Davrin who had accompanied Rook to the hall of valor. Taash sniffs the air and grabs Rook as they almost faceplant chasing after Lace.

"Hey, she said stop." Taash says firmly, scolding Rook who just reaches out after Lace with uncoordinated hands. "Why do you smell weird? Rook do something to upset you Lace?" The Qunari asks.

Lace groans and lets out a frustrated sigh and shakes her head.

"No no it's not.....uhg! No Taash, Rook didn't do anything wrong." She groans.

Davrin glances at Rook who squirms trying to get out of Taash's grasp and back to Lace.

"Uh Harding, how did Rook get drunk in like....five minutes?" He asks.

"They aren't drunk." Taash says, "they smell weird but they don't smell like booze"

"Put...me down....I need to....she's right there... Laaaaaace....!" Rook whines, slurring a bit.

"No you idiot! I could hurt you! No touching untill we figure this out! You don't even like being touched anyway!" Lace groans.

"Only by you...." Rook says sadly, still reaching out to her. Lace's heart skips a beat, and she realizes it's true. While Rook would often flinch at the slightest touch no matter how casual or brief, they had never been like that with her.

"It's....it's not safe...."

"someone please explain what's happening....Im lost here" Davrin sighs.

"It's .... complicated....I....kissed them...and I think my new powers gave them...lyrium poisoning" Lace says, embarrassingly covering her face with her hands.

"You kissed Rook--"

"Lyrium poisoning--"

Taash and Davrin say in unison. Lace looks down at her hands, which are still crackling with energy.

"I think....when I touched that dagger...not only was I given those stone powers but...my body was like....infused with lyrium....it doesn't affect me but when I kissed Rook...they collapsed...like I sucked out all their energy." Lace's mind was reeling, she and Rook had being playing this game for months of will they won't they, and now that she finally had an answer to her feelings, and a positive one at that, she can't even hold them.

"I...I need to go back to the lighthouse...to think...Taash can you...make sure Rook is okay for me...?" She asks the dragon slayer. Taash looks down at her seriously and nods. Lace sighs and starts to head back to the Eluvian, glancing back at Rook who seems uncomfortable in Taash's clutch.

Once Lace was out of sight Taash and Davrin looked at Rook who seemed to have started coming back to their senses.

"Taash... you're hurting me..." Rook winces.

"Can you stand?" Taash asks slightly loosening their grip on Rook. Rook nods bracing themselves against a wood beam.

"How you hanging in there boss?" Davrin scoffs, earning him a middle finger from Rook.

"Well, the girl I've been pining after for over half a year kissed me, so that was nice, on the other hand it nearly killed me and I doubt I'm going to get a second....uhg....second chance...any time soon...I'm.... going to sit down a bit..." Rook groans lowering themselves onto the floor of the Hall of Valor.

"You look like shit." Taash says kneeling beside them.

"Thanks Taash..."

As Rook expected Lace seemed to keep her distance from them over the next few days, running or backing off whenever they got too close. After a few days Rook finally manages to corner the dwarf in the kitchen, closing the door behind them.

Lace jumps as she hears the door shut and tries to act nonchalant as she sees Rook leaning back against it with their arms crossed.

"Found you~"

"Whaaat...? I have ...no idea what you mean!" Lace stutters.

"Lace...you know that running from me really hurts my feelings." Rook sighs, "can we talk? Please Lace?"

Lace groans, seeing that look on Rooks face was not making this easier, she felt a itching sensation run along under her skin, maybe more of a prickle.

"Not fair....don't....look at me like that!" She whines, Rook cock's an eyebrow,

"This is just my face."

"Yeah...! Your cute face that....I can never say no to.... damnit Rook...I hurt you! I could have killed you! You knew the whole time and you just let me do that! You just let me kiss you!?" She's shouting, but she's more annoyed than angry.

"You have a face I can't say no to." Rook says with a smirk making Lace groan, and blush simultaneously.

"Would you just sit down? Maybe we can talk about this? Because I don't want to pretend that what happened at the hall of valor never happened. I don't want to pretend like those feelings weren't there, like you didn't kiss me." Rook pleads, sitting down at the table and gesturing for Lace to do the same. She eyes them wearily, but sits down nonetheless, fidgeting and avoiding their gaze.

"So...mind tell me what you're thinking right now?"

Lace gulps, "I'm thinking I wanna curl up into a little ball and disappear."

Rook frowns.

"I'm not scared of you. And I'm not sorry I kissed you back. Lace, we've been going through this back and forth for almost...a year, and now I know you feel the same way I feel about you. I'm not suggesting we rush into things, but I want this. I want you." At their words, the prickling sensation under Lace's skin grew more intense, "you were never imagining things."

Lace pouts, it's nice to hear that Rook still sees her the same way, that they still want her regardless, but the idea that she could hurt them with something as sweet an gentle as a kiss was terrifying.

"Lace, I'm not giving up on you. Whatever this is we can get through it, together. Maybe Emmerich has some answers, he's a well versed mage and a scholar at that maybe we start there." Rook says with a soft smile.

"I did.... mention it to him....he said he'd take a look at me." Lace tells them.

"Good," Rook says with tender smile,"let's start there."

[inhurtandincomfort]

Damn. Just... wow. This is so rough for Delta.

'In some other circumstances, he might’ve found it enjoyable. He didn’t know much about cooking and was interested in learning.' Aww :( It's a shame they're so mean to him. I get it, they just want to get on with work and having someone around who doesn't know what they're doing is frankly a hindrance, but it's not like he wants to be there either.

'He was grateful that he’d been coached so well in his temperance. Otherwise, he would’ve fucking lost it, which would have only earned him more punishment.' Delta, sweetie, there is so much wrong with that statement.

And then the Paris section. Holy shit dude.

'“-Because you don’t fucking think about anyone but yourself. It’s a good thing your parents gave you up, I’m sure they don’t want to know what a selfish little disappointment their kid turned out to be-”' I know you've got trauma too Paris but that doesn't give you the right to be such a DICK. Remember who half-carried your drunk ass back to your room? The literal Living Weapon, who's not supposed to even be a person, doesn't think of anyone but himself?? yeah sure thing buddy

And it got to him too oh Delta. Paris is definitely just using him as a punching bag, literally and figuratively. And Delta just quietly goes to clean his wounds to begin again tomorrow oh :(

Destroyer - Penance

(Masterlist)

(Content: overworking, sleep deprivation, starvation, magical exhaustion, physical violence, verbal abuse)

==================

The alarm sounded off. Delta groaned softly into his pillow, forcing himself to sit up. It was easier when he was in motion. Once he stood, he was less likely to fall back asleep. But it didn’t make him any less tired. It had been going like this for a week now. He was only allowed about four hours of sleep a night, if he was lucky. With each day that passed, the fatigue cut deeper. He stumbled to the bathroom, hurriedly washing his face and brushing his teeth. He’d fallen asleep in his uniform, so at least that was taken care of. 

He waved off the guard who was posted outside his door, who would’ve woken him up if he hadn’t emerged. The guard looked at him strangely, which he didn’t catch, tiredness clouding his vision. He moved straight to the kitchen; the staff there were waiting for him. This time, Paris really had delegated him to a servant position, hearing no protests. Delta was obliged to help the staff prep and to clean, making himself useful for the next couple hours. He was not permitted to eat anything from there, not without Paris’s express permission, which he knew was not coming. The prince wouldn’t even wake up for a few more hours. 

In some other circumstances, he might’ve found it enjoyable. He didn’t know much about cooking and was interested in learning. But they had assigned him the most menial jobs they had - scaling, peeling, trimming. In his tiredness, he nicked himself with the knife, spilling blood everywhere, pleasing no one. He knew the staff was exasperated with him, that they didn’t want him to be here anymore than he did. He didn’t begrudge them that. What he did begrudge was the way the chef would hit and scream at him over simple mistakes. It frayed his nerves worse, which only made the mistakes more frequent. Paris had authorized the staff to give him orders, that wasn’t surprising. Delta didn’t know that he’d also authorized them to discipline him. And in his opinion, they were too eager to take advantage of the opportunity.

After the rush ended, he moved onto the engine room. He winced as he entered. As part of his punishment, he’d been sent to clean different parts of the ship everyday, giving the cleaning staff the day off. Delta wondered dimly if they were still getting paid for that day, if this was just frugality on Paris’s part. At any rate, he was far less equipped than they were and he was only one person, so it already took up the better part of his day. The engine room was the largest and also the most intricate room he’d been assigned. He felt a deep sense of dread looking around at it, running some mental calculations. It would take at least five hours, minimum. He tried to steel himself, but his resolve was wearing thin. He forced himself to go at it one step at a time, the way he had been coached to at the institute. If he got too far ahead of himself, the panic and fussing would begin. He reset his breathing, then moved to the supply closet.

It was tedious, exhausting work. The good thing was that it had been cleaned semi-regularly, so there was not as much built-up grime as there could have been. The bad thing was absolutely everything else. Delta had to contort himself to reach into the tight corners, putting a strain on his injured body. Since it was a multi-step process and it did not make sense to keep switching between products, he ended up rounding the entire room some five times. As expected, each step in the process took over an hour. His vision was cloudy, floaters at the edge of his eyes. It’d been so long since he’d eaten, the hunger in his stomach felt like an old wound, the ache so constant he barely even felt it anymore. He had to shock himself, manually, to stay awake. His eyes kept closing by themselves.

Finally, he was satisfied that the room looked presentable. Paris might have him clean it more later, but he was certain this was passable for today. He put the chemicals back into their places, scrubbing his raw skin in the sink. He took a long drink of water at the fountain, sweat forming on his face and neck. He was grateful that he’d been coached so well in his temperance. Otherwise, he would’ve fucking lost it, which would have only earned him more punishment.

Simon tried to go easy on him during training. Delta appreciated this, but it didn’t help. What would have been easy on a normal day became almost impossible without adequate food or sleep. But he was in no position to disobey his handlers now. He pushed himself through the drills until his vision left him. Simon let him catch his breath for a minute. He seemed reluctant to dismiss him early; Paris had probably given him orders not to. The lesson went on as normal as Delta got his strength back. He felt entirely hollow at its completion, all his energy spent.

Finally, he sought out the prince. Paris barely bothered with formalities this week. He got straight into the beating. Delta suspected that this was not necessarily part of punishment; Paris was just looking for someone to take his anger out on. He suspected this because Paris tended to yell the entire time, frequently breaking other objects in the room that had done nothing wrong. Delta had mostly learned to tune out the verbal abuse, but Paris was really going for the throat this time. He shielded his skull as Paris knocked him into the desk. The prince took a handful of his hair, forcing him to make eye contact. 

“-Because you don’t fucking think about anyone but yourself. It’s a good thing your parents gave you up, I’m sure they don’t want to know what a selfish little disappointment their kid turned out to be-”

Ouch. Who had even told him that? Delta’s expression must have changed, because Paris pressed on it harder.

“What kind of parents abandon their kid like that? They must’ve known you’d be a fuck-up, or maybe they were fuck-ups too. Sold you off to pay their debts. Evil begetting fucking evil. There’s a reason you don’t have your freedom. They knew you couldn’t be trusted with it. That’s my mistake. That’s one of my fucking mistakes.”

Paris released him, letting him fall to the ground. Delta rubbed his scalp, looking nervously up at Paris as his rant turned inward.

“Do you have any idea how bad it is out there?” Paris paced the room, “You’re lucky, you know. They value you. They’re already sold on that investment. I’m pretty much fucked. Even if I win, they’re going to be after me for the rest of my life, just waiting for me to slip up. They’re all snakes. Forget that my fucking dad just died, forget they I hadn’t even graduated when it happened. Sick world. Nobody deserves Empire. Nobody.”

Delta stayed quiet, pulling himself into a kneeling posture. Paris turned to him, letting out a little sigh. 

“Get out of my room.”

Delta didn’t wait to be told again. It was far into the night now. He’d take a minute to dress his wounds, then get all the sleep he could before repeating the cycle again tomorrow.

~~~

Tags: @catnykit @indigoviolet311 @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @defire

[crazy-fangirl2524]

I know many people in the fandom hates the EC and for some reason also Nora (when she gave us aftg like what’s wrong with y’all) but how many authors give us as much as Nora did?! Who gave us so so much extra content when she could have just left us with the three books. I love the EC with my entire heart and I understand if you don’t agree with some of it but hating it ?? And hating the author for it?? The EC is so under-appreciated and underrated.

[do-you-know-this-adhd-character]

Do you know this (noncanon) ADHD character?

Evidence below the cut!

can be pretty hyperactive, forgets things regularly (even important things, forgot he turned into a heartless in kh1), distractable, later on he seems to have some problems with emotional dysregulation. hes constantly called lazy by his friends but as soon as hes doing something he likes he has all the energy in the world, and also tends to dismiss his own intelligence despite actually being pretty smart, both of which are things that i think are decently common with undiagnosed adhd

[ekkoh]

-jody chan

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Meryl, Luida, and Bridging the Gap

This is just a quick little side-note I wanted to make about the similarities between Meryl and Luida that I noticed as I was reading, and how they end up occupying similar, yet complementing roles in the story.

***Disclaimer: I was sick when I wrote this and my head is full of fog lmao. If I have completely left out a word or something... don't even worry about it it's fine.

First off, on a surface level, they both are characterized as capable, intelligent, level-headed women, who are suddenly thrust into leadership positions, with Meryl being assigned the task of tracking down and mitigating the damage caused by Vash the Stampede plus looking out for her new protégé, Milly, and Luida stepping up to take charge of Ship 3 and its residents after Doc's death.

While the demand placed on them both is immense, nonetheless, they are shown to be quite capable of shouldering this kind of responsibility - however, given their intense focus and objective-driven personalities, they actually both get scenes where they are somewhat horrified by their own temporary prioritization of objectives over morality. We see this with Meryl in Trigun Volume 1 when she doesn't react in righteous anger to Badwick threatening his parents and had shut herself off from writing to her own in pursuit of her job, and with Luida when she briefly considers the idea of another July incident to stop Knives. Both think negatively of themselves for this - of course, I'm of the mind that since they are upset with themselves on reflection, this proves the exact opposite, really. I think they both have hearts of gold, they're just under a lot of stress, especially as time goes on. The two of them are human beings who falter, but whose morals ultimately align closely with what Vash wants to see in the world. Really, what the two of them hate most here is the idea of their own inaction or taking the easy way in the face of wrongdoing - a concept that drives them into action going forward.

[ID: Two images from Trigun and Trigun Maximum. The first is from Trigun Volume 1. Over images of trees and Badwick's father, Meryl says "But I... I just stood there and took it all in without even budging. I am such a cold person. I chose this path of blood and tears without thinking about the rest of my life. All I can see is what's right in front of me." Meryl starts to cry as she continues, "Why could I not see... that when I closed myself off to him, something was wrong? I..." She then slaps her cheeks and says "No... never mind!" The second image is from Trigun Maximum Volume 8. A single tear runs down Luida's cheek. Meryl says "Miss Luida...?" Her back turned to Meryl, Luida says "I'm sorry. I... was thinking for a moment. If something like July would happen again... it could stop Knives, but... ... I'm a terrible woman. End ID.]

Both of them also have a connection to Vash's past that gives them a different perspective on him as a person, instead of just an ally - Meryl, of course, gets brain-blasted in Volume 5 with Vash's memories (poor thing), but Luida is also more familiar with him than even a lot of the people on Ship 3, it seems - enough that she calls him out for blaming himself after the attack, clearly used to hearing this from him. She also is the one to clear up at least some of Wolfwood's confusion and uncertainty.

We also get this interesting parallel of them both watching Vash walk away to face Knives, him having rejected their offers of help. It's something that clearly saddens them both, as they watch him fight alone again and again, and wish he wouldn't. Both of them have moments where they feel they can't offer much in the way of assistance, or that their best efforts aren't enough.

[ID: Two images from Trigun and Trigun Maximum. The first is from Trigun Volume 2. Vash, his back turned, runs off into the chaos, a Plant seen above him and the city ahead, as he yells back "Get as far away from here as you can! Get to safety!" Meryl watches him from the door. In the second image, from Trigun Maximum Volume 8, a grainy flashback shows Vash's turned back as he walks away from a young Luida, who is reaching out to him. End ID.]

Of course, we the readers know this isn't true at all! Meryl and Luida do so much over the course of the story.

Interestingly, they don't start off as the ones completely in charge - Meryl works for Bernadelli even if she is in charge of her assignment, and Luida is presumably part of the Council, but the one in charge is initially Doc. But once they do take over - Luida after Doc's death, and Meryl once the world is thrown into ruins and Bernadelli no longer exists - there is a striking difference in the way they act from their predecessors.

Meryl goes from simply following Vash around to taking a self-directed and active role in assisting him however she can - looking for his old belongings and anything else of potential use, asking Marlon to repair his gun, creating a distraction with Milly, and helping the Earth Federation in the final hour with no hesitation.

Luida takes a much more active role in rallying Ship 3 to assist Vash as well. While some of this may simply have been because the stakes were raised much higher after Volume 3, Ship 3, while already a base of support for Vash, was a distant safe haven, kept largely separate from the rest of the world. Up until that point, they had provided Vash with aid, but not fought alongside him, something that clearly bothers Luida on multiple occasions. She decides to change this. She's the one who sets out to help as many of the towns ravaged by the Ark as possible. She rallies the Ship 3 residents for a rescue mission to help Vash. She's the one to step forward and attempt to bring all the leaders around to standing with Vash.

Which brings me to my last comparison point. They're both staunchly supportive of Vash, quick to come to his aid, and quick to defend his character from those who doubt his intent - Luida even sharply calls out her own people for their moment of mistrust after hearing about July. These two know and care about Vash on a more personal level than most - and as we all know, due to his avoidant tendencies, this is not an easy thing to do. Vash is frequently misinterpreted, and these two are often the ones to set the record straight.

[ID: A panel from Trigun Maximum Volume 3. Luida, sternly, says "That's a foolish question. You would know the answer just by looking at the scars on his body. If he had used his true immortality, those scars would not be there. End ID.]

In this way, much like Vash is a bridge between humans and Plants, Meryl and Luida are something of a bridge between humans and Vash.

And they're able to do this because deep down, their ideals align closely with his - they're not just supporting someone they care about; they have a similar desire to see the kind of world he fights for, and they choose to fight for it too.

But while Luida is something of a spokesperson for Vash, reaching out to humanity, it is almost as if Meryl becomes the voice of humanity reaching back, responding to him, and agreeing that not everything in the world is awful; that it is worth believing in the best in others. They need to stand together.

[ID: A panel from Trigun Maximum Volume 14. Meryl, in a spacesuit, with frank determination, says, "Because we decided to stand together. We stand with Vash the Stampede." End ID.]

Meryl is the voice of proof that some people believe in the love and peace he speaks of, and are willing to say it back to him in turn.

Updated on my masterpost - my other book club stuff can be found here!

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

do you think they tried at all. i cant see it ending well

blaine: stop-- i- i don't want to go in there--

blaine: c'mon. tell me honest this time. take me to spader.