#his creator asked me to stop rendering him

[salemssimblr]

Natalya Eloise Rozinova

Eldest daughter of Konstantin and Milena Rozinov

The family's golden child, Natalya excelled in all manor of study. Proficient at piano, violin, and dance. Their parents had no doubt that she would marry an esteemed lord (or higher!) and bring honor and wealth to the family.

But it was not to be. At one of the family's famed soirées, Natalya met Henrik Reimann, and everything changed. The two fell in love, and soon they were engaged.

At first the family approved of the match. The Reimann family was another wealthy name of high standing in Faversham. But the more it became clear that Henrik was harboring a secret, the more Natalya's parents soured on him.

It was only after marrying (in secret), and finding out that she was with child that Natalya learned the truth. In the worst way possible.

Her betrothed was a demon hunter, and a good one, at that. But even the best fall. And he did, the middle of the night when the pair was attacked by an otherworldly beast. Natalya lost husband and child in one fell swoop. But instead of returning home, she took up his work, becoming a hunter herself, endlessly seeking out the demon that tore her family from her.

Arisstina Angeline Rozinova

Middle daughter of Konstantin and Milena Rozinov

The black sheep of the Rozinov girls, both literally and figuratively, Ariss always was a rebel. As a young girl she quickly learned that she would never be as perfect or pretty as Natalya, and would never receive the accolades her sister received, so she sought out her family's attention in different ways.

But her attitude only worsened when he arrived.

Everything changed for her at the age of twelve, when her parents brought a young boy into the house. An adopted son. He too was black-haired and grey-eyed. To young Ariss he was captivating. Another black sheep. She was no longer alone.

While her sisters shied away from Vitaly, Ariss often sought him out, seemingly unafraid of him unlike her sisters. In turn he encouraged her bad behavior, reinforcing her rebellion with little more than his approval.

The two would play in the gardens, "the blind man's game" being one of their favorites. Ariss would change into her brother's clothes for ease of movement, then the two would chase each other, taking turns wearing a blindfold.

She couldn't know her un-brother was training her to be a killer all along.

Katerina Delphine Rozinova

Youngest daughter of Konstantin and Milena Rozinov

Little Katya spent her adolescence fighting her way out of her sisters' shadows. Not as perfect as Natalya, but not nearly as problematic as Ariss, she was often overlooked by the family and left to her own devices.

Third in line to inherit the family's shipping company, Katerina should've been safe from the waves and her family's looming expectations. But her chance at freedom quickly dwindled as first Natalya was deemed unworthy of the title, then Arisstina, leaving the Seven Sails squarely on her shoulders.

This was no problem for little Katya, who'd been sailing with her father since she was a girl. But the straightedged life was not for her. By day she is the esteemed and capable captain of the Temperantia. By night, she flies the black as one of the most fearsome (and unexpected) pirate captains on the seven seas.

I've never actually given yall a proper bio on these girls so here we are (:

Expect a few more of these soonish! With full bios to be posted... eventually haha (once I find or make a code I like)

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley w/ a sick baby Headcanons and Imagines list

Am I back with the Dad!Ghost content? You know damn well I am, also yes the render I used is courtesy of our beloved @ave661 who's most definitely annoyed by my existence by now for constantly tagging her.

Will I ever stop writing Dad!Ghost? Fuck no, why? Daddy issues and baby fever, if you want anyone to blame, it's those two. And yes, I will be upset if this doesn't do well. (AHEM, MY SOAP POST)

Taglist of who I this would enjoy this and requested: @puff0o0, @blingblong55, @cutenote, @wise-owl and @connorsui. This last creator by far has given me the best fucking commentary on my work and I have more works on and coming about Dad!Ghost, genuinely thank you so freaking much, you made me cry 😭.

I'M BACK! Let's start, shall we?

❥ Dad!Simon who's a very nervous first time father, well there's a first for everything and so is the first time your guys' baby got sick.

❥ Dad!Simon who immediately got them a check up, it was a common flu. Naturally medication and antibiotics were prescripted.

❥ Dad!Simon whose heart melts once he hears the soft whimpers of discomfort of the little on as they stir in the crib. The soft raspy cries and flushed chubby cheeks and warm, almost burning temperature.

❥ Dad!Simon who is trying his hardest not to look back the car seat when you were on your way to the clinic, to check on the baby whose little cheeks are bouncing a bit while being entertained by their pacifier, the little cooling patch on their head making their forehead crinkle a bit.

❥ Dad!Simon who was amused by how talkative the little one still is despite being so drowsy and in pain. Babbling their little heart out while sniffling.

"Dada!" the little on calls for Simon, almost in a screaming manner if it wasn't for the poor little thing's scratchy and sore throat.

They let out incoherent babbles to Simon as if trying to tell him something, as if they're chatting like they used to, the only adjustments being the constant sniffles and coughs. Them being reduced to their clogged nose while trying so hard to communicate. (Here's your visual)

Simon took the warm baby bottle from your hands to feed the little one.

"Bee, slow down.." A new nickname picked up by Simon to give to your little one, bumblebee, trying to tell them to slow down from chugging.

❥ Dad!Simon who never thought the baby wouldn't get any more clingy, at least not until they got sick. Constantly asking for "dada" and "mama" while he goes on about his day trying to help his wife, you, to keep up with the chores around the house.

❥ Dad!Simon who feels a bit guilty because he loves the comfort he's able to provide the baby, especially that they're not comfortable and less than happy with the sickness. Having the baby on his chest, patting their fragile back gently with a hand that's almost bigger than their body as their dad's heartbeat lulls them to sleep despite being irritable the whole day.

❥ Dad!Simon who joins in when the baby entertains themselves while playing with the various rattles and teething toys.

Bumblebee shaking the tiny rattle, a bit in frustration, knocking their self back. Luckily Simon had intense reflexes and managed to slip his hand in time between the cushioned but still quite hard floor and the baby's tiny head.

Simon let out a breath of relief, "You sure know how to scare me, don't you bee?"

The baby let out a strained giggle as their dad guided them to sit back up by their head and back.

❥ Dad!Simon who slightly chuckles when the baby's breathing starts picking up, their lips trembling into a pout, little doe eyes starting to get glassy from the tears forming with a pitched whimper, only to be silenced by a kiss from both you and Simon. The toll of the sickness only ever being reduced with yours and his affection.

❥ Dad!Simon who tries his best to make the baby take the prescripted medicine, that baby did NOT like the taste of it and he had to resort to sneaking it in their food to hide the taste of the bitter syrup.

❥ Dad!Simon who makes the little one blow their tiny nose.

"Come on pumpkin, copy dada okay?" Simon whispers while exhaling loudly out his nose, careful with the baby's sensitive ears.

The sleepy eyes of the little one trailing on him, trying to observe and copy, blowing their nose on the soft wipes Simon held against their nose.

After wiping it, Simon noticed how their nose now unclogged helped they sleep far more easier and with less frustration from them.

Shout out to a very consistent person who has been liking all the things I post despite them not being actual content @poohkie90 <3

Also I had no idea @simp4konig and I were mutuals, I'M FANGIRLING SO HARD WHEN I SAW THE LIKED POST NOTIF.

Sidenote: I'm sick rn y'all, like it just kept on coming. First was my period, then next thing I knew my nose is clogged and I'm sniffling, then the next I'm coughing and sneezing. There's so much blood rn I can't even. I don't feel good at all but I'm pushing through. Apologies if this was shorter than most if you expected from me, I wanted to elaborate on this prompt however I don't have much ideas so I'm sorry to disappoint.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Falling Slowly - Chapter 11

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 5000+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: What started as a simple “wanting to make Tommy an actual daddy” turned into a whole ass fic. Is anyone really surprised? I absolutely adore Tommy and Daisy and would love to revisit them! 

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Divider made by @benkeibear 

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

The truck runs out of gas just inside of Teton County. We gather up our packs, keeping our guns loose in our hands but ready, as we march through the woods. Tommy had found a paper map of Wyoming, noticing that there was a small notation of a hydroelectric dam on it. He's convinced that this settlement will be near there and I admit, that's a great place to start looking.

We don't make it within 20 miles of that plant before horses and riders come from nowhere, immediately surrounding us, their faces masked. Tommy puts his arms out to shield us, knowing that there was no way he could shoot them all.

"What are you doing out here?" A man bellows at us, his horse snuffing, a swirl of air puffing out from his nose in the cool, fall breeze.

"We heard there may be a settlement around here. We're looking for a place to call home."

"You know anything about dams?" A woman speaks up from behind the first man.

"I uh, I was in construction. I know some things. I can take a look."

She stares at him from behind her mask, weighing our usefulness. "And them?"

"My wife can grow anything. And has some medical knowledge. My son..helps her."

Several long moments pass. I can't get a read on them. If they are from this settlement, I can't really blame them for being so selective. And secretive.

"You come here on foot?"

"For the last 50 or so miles. We had a truck. Still works, but no gas."

She nods. "Stash it?"

Tommy nods. "Just in case we needed it again."

"Smart man. Alright, you guys come back to town with us."

They offered us horses, which Jax hopped on immediately, his whole face lighting up with excitement. It had been years since he was able to ride. I'm still on the fence about trusting them. After a while, we see their gates in the distance, a little shotty and in need of, well, Tommy's expertise. But that's not what holds my attention.

"Is your town named Jackson?" Jax asks the woman.

She nods. "It is."

Jax laughs, a sound I hadn't heard in a very long time. "That's my name! Must be a sign, right mom?"

The gates open and I'm rendered speechless. It's a town. A whole ass town. People are milling about like everything is normal. The woman, Maria, starts to give us a tour, pointing out the town hall, the bar, clothing swap and repair, and little general stores. She takes us around and shows us the barns, slots for at least 40 horses, the herd of sheep, and the dairy cows and goats. Jax practically comes unglued from the Earth when seeing everything. Maria smiles at his excitement.

"You're 17, right?" Jax nods. "Well I think you should still attend school. At least to just get to know the other kids. But your official duty, in my opinion, should be with the animals. What do you think?"

"Yeah! Dad, is that ok?" Jax clings to Tommy's arm and he smiles patting his hand.

"Yeah, of course, bud."

Jax whoops and punches the sky, immediately apologizing to the chickens that had started frantically clucking and running around their enclosure.

But what really impressed me was our house, an actual house. Maria stopped in front of this beautiful 3 bedroom, two story house, complete with a front porch. It was like stepping into a time machine. They had cleaned all of the houses and kept them maintained, but the decor was exactly the same as it was on outbreak day 14 years ago.

Jax picked a room once belonging to a teenage boy, judging from the decor. We quickly unpacked our things and headed into town, getting a hot, fresh meal and trying not to overstuff ourselves. They gave us a small ration of food to take home, a carton of eggs, some flour, salt, yeast, honey, a carton of milk, and, much to Tommy's delight, a small container of coffee.

I was afraid that all of the time spent just growing up around us, and then on the constant move with the Fireflies would make it difficult for Jax to make friends.

I couldn't be more wrong.

Immediately, the kids from town were fascinated by Jax, asking him tons of questions about the outside, about him. He eventually takes off with them, going to movie night at the community center.

Tommy and I walk back home, his arm around my shoulder, tucking me into his side. "That kid made fast friends."

"I was so worried about that. Guess I didn't need to be."

"Nah. He's a good kid and they can see that."

We stop for a moment outside of our house, looking up at it. "This was a good move, Mr. Miller. I like it here."

I turn to look at him and he smiles, pressing his lips to mine briefly before we head inside, the early fall chill on the wind making us shiver slightly. Tommy starts to unpack the food while I take a quick shower, groaning as the hot water sends goosebumps across my skin. I hadn't had a proper hot shower since we'd left the cabin.

I lay on the bed wrapped only in my towel, finally allowing myself to relax for the first time in...years. I can't remember how many at this point. Tommy comes in and wolfwhistles at me and I try, and fail, to hide my smirk.

"Looks like they left a present for me on the bed," Tommy chuckles, attempting to sit next to me. I put my foot out to stop him.

"Nuh uh. Take a shower first, stinky."

He looks fake hurt, putting a hand to his chest. "How dare you, I smell delightful."

"Yeah to a group of flies."

He pretends to storm off in mock anger, shedding his clothes as he goes. He stays a bit longer in the shower than I thought he would, but I can't blame him. That hot water is too much of a lure. He comes out, towel wrapped around his waist, his hair wet and curling. His incision is healed by now, a small red line all that's left of the metal that nearly took his life. Tommy lays next to me on the bed and I curl into his side.

"Hey, darlin? I know you're all clean and sexy and naked next to me, and I so want to have my way with you. But do you think it could wait until morning?"

"Oh thank God - I'm so exhausted."

We both chuckle and burrow into the blankets, talking for a bit when we hear Jax come in, closing the door to the bathroom and taking a shower.

I haven't felt this safe in years.

An electrified warmth, pulsing out from between my legs yanks me from sleep and I moan, my hands moving down and finding Tommy's head between my legs, his face pressed into me. My fingers grip his dark curls and I tug, loving the sound he makes when I do.

"Fucking hell, Tommy. Warn a girl."

He chuckles and my hips jolt. "Alright, well I'm warning you now, my beautiful wife. I'm not done with you yet."

Tommy makes good on his promise, sliding into me with practiced ease, my body taking him in greedily, responding to every touch, every kiss and nip. He digs his fingers into my hip, slowly moving me in time with his hips, angling himself to go deeper, hitting that spot that has me gasping his name, my fingernails digging into his broad back. His hips sputter, his head drops to my shoulder as be bites it, filling me with his warmth. He picks up his head, his nose lightly dragging across my face before kissing me.

"I fuckin' love you, Mrs. Miller."

"I fucking love you, Mr. Miller."

Life in Jackson is good. We're all kept busy but a natural busy, not a frantic "is this the moment when we all die" busy. Jax settles in beautifully, finishing their school and learning more about animals and their care as he works with them. About a year in, he finally asks out the girl he had been crushing on since we got here, Lara and, a year later, they're already talking about marriage. Young love.

Tommy helps to fortify the walls, manging to tinker with the dam and get it fully operational. He admits he had virtually no idea what he was doing. He just banged his wrench around and it eventually turned on. He joins patrols too, but mostly stays inside the gates, making repairs and fortifications.

I help a little old lady named Lu with the garden. I had brought some medicinal herbs with us and we were able to propagate some more from the clippings, which works out great for the clinic.

New people do show up, but it's rare. Jackson is fairly secluded, and Maria pretty much forbids anyone from giving away our location. I can't blame her. If everyone knew about this place, it would be overrun in a heartbeat, our supplies spent. Not to mention the clickers that would likely follow a crowd that large.

But today is one of those days. Maria radioed in that 3 new people were coming into Jackson, and to ready the clinic. The doctor there called me in to help, as I often did when she needed it. She told me what to prep and I realized whomever is coming, one of them must be pregnant.

"Imagine trapsing this lanscape, pregnant," The doctor said, no trace of malice to her voice. A little pity and awe though.

The clinic door opens and the doctor greets the people. I turn around and drop the tray I'm holding.

Sarah. Sarah is standing in the clinic.

A man stands next to her and on her other side-

Rose.

Rose and Sarah are alive and here.

"Sarah?" I choke out and her head snaps up, her round belly on prominent display.

"Aunt Daisy?"

"Holy fuck!" Rose gasps and I run to them, pulling them both into as tight of an embrace as I can manage, tears streaming down my face. I feel theirs as well. But when a small kick hits my stomach, I back up, apologizing to Sarah.

"Ah I'm sorry! I forgot! Come, the doctor will take a look." Sarah grips my hand, lacing our fingers together.

"Come with me?"

"Of course."

Sarah turns out fine, about 7 months along. She could do with a warm meal, some water, and a good shower. Sarah introduced me to her boyfriend, or husband, the second they can find someone who will marry them. He's a sweet boy by the name of Eli. We head over to the cafe and I point out all the places to Sarah and Rose and Eli. Once they get seated with food, I head outside, a smile on my face as I run to the stables. Tommy will be there with Jax, as he's repairing a broken stable door. I run, full on run to the stables, sliding inside the barn and coming to a stop in front of them, gasping for air.

"Mom! Mom, is everything ok?" Jax drops his hammer and puts his hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah...yes..." I take a few more deep breaths of air. "Sarah..and Rose...are here."

Once they get settled in a house, conveniently across the street from ours, we bring them over for some hot tea. Sarah sips on hers, a little moan coming from her as it warms her up.

"So...how did..where is..."

Rose and Sarah exchange a look and I don't like it. Sarah nods at Rose and takes another sip of her drink.

"We stayed another year or so after you left. They seemed to buy the story at first, that you had all gone out on some family thing and just...never came back. It happens. But Joel suspected that they were getting suspicious. So he said we needed a way out, to find the Fireflies so we could find you. They demanded Joel go on a long run with them, taking them somewhere up above Maryland."

"Maryland??"

Rose nods. "Yeah, that's what I said. Anwyay, Joel said he'd go but we had to go with and that we were off limits. Well... nothing happened but some guys were being creeps and that finally tipped Joel over the edge. He killed the guy in his sleep and we left on foot. We were heading towards Boston. There's a qz up there. We figured we could find out where you were from there. We had to cross this bridge. But they caught up with us and the bridge couldn't hold everything. Not with all the old cars on it and it not being upkept for years. The bridge went down and..." Tears poured from Rose's eyes, silent ones pouring down Sarah's cheeks as well.

"Joel?" Tommy asks, barely a whisper.

Eli speaks up. "I wasn't there, but they told me." He puts his hand on Sarah's giving it a little squeeze. "The bridge collpased. Took out the raiders and they nearly died too. But they looked for Joel for days. Couldn't find him. I'm so sorry."

I started to cry, but it was less about the loss of Joel, whom I loved like a brother, and more for Tommy, who looked like he had lost a limb. He got up and walked out the backdoor, slamming it behind him. I followed him, gently pulling him to me as he crumbled against my chest, gripping my shirt as he wailed over the loss of his big brother.

We eventually learned that Rose and Sarah ended up in a different qz than Boston, which is where Sarah met Eli. He was FEDRA but hated them, supporting the citizens in any way he could, even if that meant turning a blind eye to some insider trading. He and Sarah fell in love, but shortly after, the qz got violent, the people rising up against FEDRA. They managed to escape, Sarah finding out she was pregnant a few weeks later.

Eli had some Firefly connections, so they headed to their posts, eventually figuring out that we had left the Fireflies and relocated "somewhere in Teton County, Wyoming." And so they came here, hoping to find us. And being completely surprised to find Jackson City.

Sarah gives birth to a beautiful baby girl, Juniper, with her eyes, Joel's eyes. As Juniper grows, her hair becomes this beautiful carbon copy of her mother's, her curls bouncing away. Eli is a fantastic father and husband, always by his family's side.

Jax and Lara move in together and get married, Lara getting pregnant a short while after.

"I don't know if I'm ready to be a grandma," I say to Tommy while I look in the mirror. "Although I do have the greys."

"You'll be the hottest grandma I know." Tommy waggles his eyebrows as he pulls me to him, his tongue pressing against mine.

"If I'm a grandma, that means you'll be a grandpa."

Tommy looks shocked. "Holy shit. You're right. You still gonna wanna kiss this old man?"

My fingers wind in his shirt, pulling him down to me as I speak against his lips. "That's not all I'll do for this old man."

"Tree! Tree, mommy!" Juniper jumps up and down, yanking on Sarah's coat as she pushes back from our table, shoving the last bite of egg in her mouth.

"Yes baby. We're going to see the Christmas tree. You guys coming?"

Juniper looks up at Tommy with her big eyes. "Great Uncle Tommy coming?"

"Sorry, kiddo. Not today. I gotta fix the barn roof before the big snows come in." Juniper sticks out her lip. "But I'll see you tonight for hot chocolate?"

She thinks, her little finger tapping her lips. "Ok!" She yanks on Sarah's coat again, half jerking her towards the front door.

"See you tonight, Aunt Daisy?"

"Yup. I'll have cookies too."

"Yay!" Juniper yells from the doorway. Sarah and her leave, the house considerably quieter when they do.

"Crazy to think that in a few months, there will be another little one running around here."

"Yeah. I can't wait."

"Me neither."

Tommy kisses me before heading off to the barns, finishing up the last of the roof work. The last snow storm took off some of the panels and so it needs to be repaired before the next big storm or we may lose a horse or 2.

Tommy walks back in 10 minutes later. "Forgot my work gloves."

"How did you forget those, Mr. Construction?"

"I got distracted looking at your ass."

"How dare you, good sir. I am a lady."

Tommy walks up to me, pressing his body to mine. "A lady that I had bent over this table last night."

I slap his chest playfully before kissing him again. "Oh wait. I'll walk with you. I got to pick up a couple things for the cookies."

Tommy walks me a few blocks, intending on turning left to head to the barn while I continued on to the main strip. But then we hear yelling, just making out Sarah's name. Tommy and I glance at each other, immediately anticipating the worst as we run towards the wailing sound. We come out of a side ally onto the main strip, half a block away from the Christmas tree. And there, at the bottom of the tree is Sarah, crying her eyes out, her body desperately holding onto someone. No, wait.

"Joel?" Tommy says next to me in disbelief. But then their bodies shift, and there he is. Joel, with his mop of now grey hair, grasping onto the daughter he undoubtedly thought he'd lost.

Tommy runs as fast as he can over to them, Sarah pulling him down into their embrace. Juniper, who had been standing there holding her mom's other hand, immediately jumps on Tommy and hugs him, her little fists digging into his arms. I walk up, wiping tears from my eyes and, to my surprise, Joel looks up at me and pulls me down to him, hugging me as tight as he can.

"I thought you were all dead," He says it so quietly in my ear, but I can hear the wobble in his voice.

"We're here. We're all..." I turn my head, looking into the small crowd of people. "Someone get Rose. Now!"

Joel snaps back from me, his eyes boring into mine. "Rose is here?"

I smile at him. "Yeah she fucking is!"

Suddenly his eyes look over my shoulder and I see the shift in them, know he sees Rose, and I know that feeling. The one of loss and relief, the pain that causes in your heart. Joel tries to stand but it's too late - Rose is there, dropping into his lap as she clings to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. He pulls back, cupping her face, his eyes roaming over hers.

"You're real?"

Rose nods. "Are you?"

He pulls her to him, their lips meeting and I look away, giving them a moment of privacy, marveling at the fact that our family is somehow together, at the other end of the country, even all these years later.

As it turns out, Joel was not traveling alone. Ellie is spunky, full of attitude, keeping Joel on his toes. I love her already.

Tommy told me later about exactly why Joel and Ellie were here, what secret Ellie was carrying. That he has to bring her to the Fireflies so they can try and make a cure, an actual cure.

"And you think they can do that? They have the resources?"

Tommy shrugs, pulling his shirt over his head and exposing his bronzed skin, freckles spattered about, along with several scars. He starts to rummage through his dresser drawer, looking for a shirt to sleep in.

"Joel seems to think so."

"Hhhmm. I bet Rose will have something to say about it."

"She probably will."

I walk up to him, lightly brushing my fingers across his back. My arms slide around him as I press kisses into his back. He hums, his arms folding over mine. The warmth radiates out from his body and seeps into mine, relaxing me but also heating me up for very different reasons. I slowly move my hand down, dipping under the waistband of his sweatpants.

"And here I thought you said you were a lady." Tommy sucks in a breath after that last word, my fingers encircling him, slowly pumping him as he hardens in my grip.

"I want you to do un-ladylike things to me."

"Yes, ma'am."

He pulls my hand from his pants with a groan, from which of us I'm not sure. I turn to walk towards the bed and yelp, Tommy's hand lightly slapping my ass. He chuckles as I look fake shocked. I turn to him, my hand on my chest.

"How dare you sir! Ah!" He somehow reaches around me, slapping me on the other cheek, the shit eating grin on his face lighting up the room. He presses his lips to mine, but I'm not making it that easy. I pull back, turning to walk or run away, I'm not sure. But I know I'm not fast enough, Tommy's arms pulling me to him, caging me against his broad chest. One arm wraps around my chest, the other sliding into my panties. He moans as his fingers sink into me.

"Fuck, is this for me?"

"It's always for you, Tommy."

He continues to touch me, using his other hand to turn my head up, swallowing my moans with his kiss. The air electrifies and the mood shifts, both of us suddenly very desperate for the other. He pulls his hand from me and pushes me onto the bed, helping me to yank my panties down. They never make it off, just shoved down somewhere around my knees as he hikes my shirt over my hips. I'm already angling my body, my chest against the bed, Tommy's fingers digging into my hips as he gets into position. He pushes forward and I can't help the gutteral whine that erupts from somewhere within me, louder and more primal as his hips rut against me.

"My wife, the lady, begging me to fuck her."

I'm seeing colors now, my fingers twisting into the sheets to get some sort of purchase so I can push my hips back, driving him deeper.

"T-Tommy," It comes out more like a plea, a whimper of his name. But he knows me well, knows my body sometimes better than I do.

"I got you, darlin'."

He pulls me up, holding me against his chest again, one arm wrapped around me and one hand between my legs, touching me where it makes my legs shake.

"Come for me, baby," his voice rasps in my ear, low and sultry. And I do, I come hard, pulsing around him, his name chanting from my lips as I watch the colors dance around my vision. His hand stalls for a moment before pushing me back down, laying his body over mine as he continues to fuck into me a few more times before he comes, groaning and biting my back. He takes several breaths before pulling out, cleaning us both up before plopping back down on the bed. I scoot in next to him a minute later and he pulls me to his side, lifting my jaw with his finger to gently kiss me.

"You definitely know how to treat a lady."

Joel and Ellie leave the next morning, much to our dislike. Tommy knew they were leaving, of course he did. I guess it makes sense. Less people out in winter time, less chance of a confrontation. Still, it made me uneasy and I wish they'd stay at least until spring.

What surprised me most was that Rose stayed behind. She was not happy by the looks of it, but she still showed her love to Joel, Ellie clearing her throat and looking anywhere but them.

"Listen, Ellie. I know we don't really know each other, but I want you to know, you'll always have a home here. Ok? No hesitation." I may have only met her yesterday, but I really liked this kid. She gave Joel the crap he needed and that won her all the points she needed in my book.

"Thanks. I'll probably just stay there in case they need more blood. But it's good to know." She gives me a quick, slightly awkward hug before nodding to Tommy and Sarah, who had just come walking up to the stables where we all stood.

"I can come with you, you know?" Sarah asked her dad when he pulled back from Rose.

"No, you can't. You have my granddaughter to take care of."

Sarah hugs him tight, and I swear I can see a tiny glint of a tear in Joel's eyes, his head slightly turned as he breathes her in, having thought he'd never be able to hold his daughter again.

"But I just got you back."

"I know, baby girl. I know. But this is important. You know I wouldn't go if it wasn't."

Sarah nods against his chest before pulling back, wiping tears from her eyes. She stands between Rose and me, watching Joel pull Ellie up into the saddle. Rose moves forward, brushing away some stray dirt on his pant leg and he leans down, kissing her once more.

"Remember what I told you, Joel."

"I will. I love you, baby."

"I love you too."

Winter progresses, Lara getting further along in her pregnancy leaving Jax looking utterly lost as to how to help her.

"Just get her whatever she asks for and make sure to rub her feet. Oh! And when her belly gets big, stand behind her and lift it up. Your mom loved that."

"I just hated it when you had to stop."

Jax's smile fades and he turns serious. "I'm just afraid this one won't stick, too."

I cup his face. "Oh baby, sometimes these things happen. It just wasn't meant to be. But I'm sure this one will be running around and calling me grandma in no time."

Thank God I was right. Lara has her baby just as the winter snows start to melt, a beautiful little girl they name Emma, after Lara's sister who died saving her on outbreak day. She immediately has Jax wrapped around her little finger.

Our house is loud again, baby sounds echoing off the wood boards. I couldn't be happier. Tommy feels the same, his face lighting up whenever he gets to see Emma.

"I always feel like we're imposing," Lara confesses as she rocks Emma to sleep.

"Never. You are never imposing. Even if you just need a moment for yourself, you bring her right over," I assure her.

"Thanks, Mrs. Mil-I mean, Daisy. Sorry, that's still weird to say."

The false spring ends, the final snows melting away as flowers and trees bloom. Tommy and I walk arm in arm down main street, intending on having a quick bite to eat at the restaurant before heading back to work. There's a small commotion at the main gate before it opens slightly. Tommy stops, pressing his hand above his eyes to shield them from the bright sun.

"Holy shit. It's Joel and Ellie."

We jog up to them, embracing them both. Something is different. Off, a little. I can tell something happened, but they're both back and safe and that's what we focus on. We head right into the clinic, Rose running and jumping into Joel's arms. He kisses her hard before setting her down, where she promptly breaks the kiss and punches his arm as hard as she can.

"Ow."

"Joel Miller, if you ever leave me again, I will find you and kill you myself. Do you understand me?"

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Yes, ma'am."

We take Ellie for a meal, allowing Joel and Rose some time to themselves. She's a little quieter than normal, shoving food around her plate for a bit before eating.

"Hey. Everything ok?" I ask, trying to put no pressure on the question.

She shrugs. "Yeah. I guess I'm just disappointed things didn't work out."

I hesitate for a moment before grabbing her hand and squeezing it. "You are fucking brave for even trying it. You're a bad ass."

She chuckles. "A bad ass?"

"Hell yeah!"

She shifts a little in her chair before resuming eating, a little more eager than before. I'm not sure what what on between here and Salt Lake, but I hope they can both come to terms with it. I'm sure they will.

Emma sits on her father's lap, happily chewing on some food we'd cut for her from the absolute feast we've put together. Everyone is here, Jax and Lara and Emma, Eli and Juniper and Sarah, who is rounder than ever with their second child. Joel and Rose and Ellie, who asked to bring her new friend Dina along. We all sit at a big table out back, the late summer air warm but cooling as the sun sets whispering through the trees. The laughter is loud and smiles are all around as we all sit and chat long into the night. I push my chair against Tommy's, leaning my head on his chest as he wraps his arms around me. As I look out at everyone I can't help but be amazed and grateful that we're all here together, after all this life has thrown us, in this little corner of the world.

And how different my life would've been if some random drunk didn't hit on me at that bar, so many years ago.

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk  

[thevanillerose]

SLICE | YANDERE!SEPHIROTH x READER | FFVII

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

Author Note: It’s time. I have to write about HIM.

Honestly though, Remake/Rebirth really turned me on to what a hottie Sephiroth is. I finally get it…

CONTENT WARNING: Unhealthy Relationships / Violence / Non-con NSFW

“Poor little thing…”

The point of Sephiroth’s silver blade dug deeply into your shoulder, pinning you haplessly to the ground with no chance to escape. If you tried to jerk or move away, the weapon would only pull harshly through your flesh and rend it open into a bleeding, gaping wound.

If your arm got too messed up, then you’d really be helpless. Though as it stood, it was already looking very bad for you. Sephiroth totally had the upper hand, and then some.

Did he intend to kill you? Well…that was where things got a touch more complicated.

He’d already killed your friends. Cloud, Tifa, Barret, Yuffie, Red XIII, Aerith…everyone…all of them…

They lay strewn and deceased around you, seeping scarlet red blood in growing pools against the temple floor. Above you, the ultimate enemy loomed, the cold breeze running through his long silver locks, flowing gently from his back. His impossibly long sword had stabbed its way into you, his final victim, while you had been trying to crawl to escape.

“You fought so well. And yet, here you fail.” he spoke in a deep and taunting tone, his words purred out past his lips. His Mako-infused eyes were focused on your pained, tormented face. He twisted his blade to the side just to see you squirm and hear you scream.

“D-don’t kill me! PLEASE!”

That desperate, panicked begging was something he had been longing to hear from you. But what a fool you were. Did you think he actually would?

That he would actually kill you?

“...Do you believe that I will?” he asked, his tone taunting and teasing, turning his sword like an oversized key in a tender lock all the while, “Do you believe I would want to kill you?”

You were rendered speechless by both the pain, and his words. You didn’t understand.

“I…” was all you could manage, a little choking start to a sentence before he suddenly, with surprising fervor, yanked the blade back out of your shoulder. Fresh blood splattered and sprayed from the slice he’d made in your delicate skin, and you rolled over, clutching yourself desperately.

“More foolish than I thought…”

Sephiroth began pacing in a slow and menacing circle around where you lay curled up and trembling. He wiped your blood from his blade, but left a little to slide his fingertips against, raising his black-gloved hand up to his eyeline, holding it level, rubbing the red between his thumb and forefinger where it sat so darkly.

“You didn’t consider that perhaps, I was doing all of this in order to claim you? As my own?”

Maybe it was because the agonizing pain made quite the distraction, but his words didn’t make any sense to you. You were totally lost. What did he even mean? Claim you? In what way?? What the hell was he talking about?

“P-please let me go…” you whimpered against the floor, tears rolling from cheek to cheek and pooling with the blood that had run down in rivulets from your shoulder. Your tormentor tutted, coming to a stop where he was standing right in front of your fallen face.

“And deny myself what I’ve always wanted? Since I first saw you in Nibelheim? I hardly think so…”

The two of you definitely had history. It was in your youth when you had first appeared to one another, him once a renowned SOLDIER, you, the pretty local girl, someone who Cloud had actually fallen for, but who Sephiroth truly desired. 

It had taken quite some time to reach the stage where he might actually be able to finally have you. But every step had been worth it in his eyes. And now, all the distractions, all the objects which might stand in his way, were laying dead around you.

“...I…I don’t want to be yours…” you gasped, and felt a slight gust against your skin, before his hand came down sharply and snatched around your tender neck, yanking you up from the floor until you were dangling helplessly above the stone.

With a slight squeeze, he stopped you from talking. He didn’t want to hear you say things like that. Enough of it.

“Whose will you be then? Cloud’s?” Sephiroth gestured over to the body a few meters away, the fluffy quaff of blonde hair a giveaway, a dead one, who it was. You felt sick just looking, and tried to turn your head away, shut your eyes, something. Instead, he let your feet back down to the ground, but only so he could flip you around and position you with your back to his tall chest.

He pinned you tight against his body, slipping his hand up beneath your chin and using his hold to grip and keep your face turned straight forward, looking right at the boy who had once protected you with all he had, but ultimately failed in the end.

Sephiroth used his free hand to cup some strands away from your ear, brushing them back and leaning down to whisper into it in a low and menacing tone, his breath feeling sharp and cold against your skin, drawing up the tiniest little hairs in response.

“I don’t think that will be possible anymore…”

Your trembling hands reached up to clutch his wrists, wishing you had the strength to pull him away from you. If you were going to die here anyway, then at least, you wanted to die without his hands all over you.

He only laughed at your efforts, softly, mockingly, finding it cute that you were even trying. 

“M-my shoulder…” you moaned with pain from being pressed against him like this.

“I’ll treat it.” Sephiroth’s lips brushed chastely against your cheek, in something close to a kiss, “I’ll spare you. I’ll care for you…and you’ll never want for anything again. I’ll ensure it.”

Tears began to well and flow from your desperate eyes.

“You’ll kill me…if I refuse?”

The eerie silence that followed was all the answer you needed. 

Swallowing thickly and nervously, you shook your head with a gentle whimper. As much as it hurt, and as scared as you were to die, how could you surrender yourself to him while the carcasses of your friends, and the ruins of all they fought for, surrounded you? You’d never be able to forgive yourself.

In response, despite still smiling slightly and smugly, Sephiroth showed his anger. His hold on your shoulder tightened considerably, and you squeaked as the pressure drew forth a fresh flow of blood, running down the length of your arm. It felt like he was practically digging his fingers into the wound, the pain amped up to 1000% again.

“AAHH!!”

You shrieked and squirmed against him, as he refused to let you go, and only spoke in a warning tone:

“You misunderstand, [Y/N]. Killing you is an absolute last resort. If you refuse me…I have ways of making you concede…”

The way his hand moved down your side was, again, answer enough. His gloved touch traced gradually, slowly, agonizingly along your skin, gracing it bare through the tears and shreds in your outfit. It was both electrifying and terrifying, in equal parts. Choking out a sob, you practically curled into him as he slipped his hand closer to your most sensitive spot.

It was easy for him to push his hand down past your belt, and wrap it around your mound, one taunting finger at a time. A simple squeeze and you weakened.

I have no choice…

I’m sorry…

Because what he would do to you if you refused was worse…

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

[emsylcatac]

Hi! i left the mlb fandom about a year ago and youre the only content creator i remember from back then. If its not too much to ask could you tell us what exactly is going on in the show?

Hi there!

So I haven't been too active as of late so I'm not sure I'm fully up to date with everything, but I'll try to recap what I know.

Did you finish season 5 or not? I can't recall if it ended a year a go or a bit less than that. I'm assuming you have but if you haven't and want more details on it feel free to ask!

👉 Otherwise, S5 technically marks the end of the "Gabriel / Monarch/Hawkmoth arc" - but a lot was left unfinished so I don't think it's the last we'll hear of him.

👉 Since then, we got another special episode of 45-50 min (the "Paris special" - I think they named it something like "Miraculous, tails of Shadybug and Claw Noire " or something) which is basically telling us that there's a multiverse in ML - in it we saw the Marinette and Adrien from another universe where their Hawkmoth is the hero and they're the villains, though it's more complicated than that. They end up in the "canon" ML universe in it. I think Thomas said we'll hear from them again, so not sure yet how much they're planning on including the multiverse in the next seasons. If you want to watch it to know more, I'm not exactly sure where to cause I just saw miraculous.to was down - but maybe have a look at this discord server if you don't mind watching it dubbed in French & subbed in English cause they do amazing translating work and they should have it.

👉 They've announce recently that a new special was coming up, set up right after the end of season 5 (I don't know yet if it's right after the wish was made or right after the actual end of S5). It'll happen in London. You'll find posters for it here and here. As for the summary, the only thing I recall seeing is this. I think they said it should get released in the 4th quarter of this year - so likely fall or winter.

👉 As for season 6, we've had a poster and a summary, and I believe they've started to animate it recently. They also announced it should start to be released in the 4th quarter of this year, but I wouldn't be surprised if it's more around the start/spring of next year if they've barely started to animate it (though I don't know much about how animation work so I could be wrong haha).

They also won't be working anymore with the past animation studios, and will be working with a new one for season 6, Zag shared that which I gotta say... I need to see more to fully judge cause while I don't mind them improving the animation quality and rendering and all, I don't want them to "polish" their feature and give them a different art style 😅 I think it's the same animation studio than the movie so all I'm asking is for them to not have the same face as in the movie hahaha

I believe that's all I know and it's probably the main stuff going on 🤔 hope that helped and again if you were looking for details on S5 I can try to give you a summary but you'll have to tell me where you stopped cause a lot happened 😅

[lewis-winters]

here's a smol drabble about two non-artsy dorks being soft for their artsy crushes

--

The drawing is hastily done, with lines that could benefit from a more thought-out weight distribution and shading that doesn't quite match the light source implied by the position of the subject. Or something like that.

In truth, Chuck hadn't been listening, when Pat had stuttered and blushed and tried to yank the paper back from him, raving about it not being good enough to be kept, much less looked at. A scandal of an idea, Chuck had thought, smoothing out the drawing and then taking extra care to tuck it nice and safe and as flat as he can get it, into the inside pocket of his jacket. It was good enough for Chuck. In fact, it was perfect, and he intended to keep it forever, just like he's kept all of Pat's other doodles, tucked safe and sound into the small crevices of his flat, as if their presence might make up for their creator's absence. But this one was extra special, and therefore would stay in his wallet. Because this one was a drawing of Chuck, himself.

Just a quick one, Pat had said, so embarrassed to have been caught sketching him when he thought Chuck hadn't been looking. He was wrong about that, by the way. Chuck is always looking. It's why he'd been itching, even more so than usual, to ask about it. There was so much concentration on that golden brow, so much calculating wonderment in those blue eyes, and a new kinda fire that had his hand moving like a blur over the page, that Chuck knew it was something special. Imagine his surprise and delight when he figured out that Pat was drawing him.

He hasn't stopped smiling since.

"That's real cute," Lieb scoffs, when he roots through Chuck's wallet to borrow a few dollars without asking. Not that he needs to. There really isn't much cash in there. He finds the drawing, instead, and stares at it while Chuck explains where it came from. Why it means so much. The way Pat captured the turn of his head, the slope of his nose. The small half-smile that seemed to be always present on his lips whenever Pat was around. The way his hair was so lovingly rendered that it looked almost soft. The way his lashes seemed to flutter, despite remaining static, long, delicate lines of charcoal pencil that lightly kissed the curve of his cheek.

Chuck thinks himself decent looking enough, but seeing that sketch, the way Pat had translated his being unto paper, was probably the very first time he'd thought of himself as beautiful.

"Cute," Lieb says again, rolling his eyes. "In a narcissist kinda way."

"Shut up, it's not about the subject," Chuck hisses at him, kicking a foot out to hit him in the thigh as he gets up to snatch the drawing (and his wallet) back to put away. "It's about how the artist sees the subject."

"The fuck what?" Lieb says in a near cackle, dodging a second kick and a pillow to the head to boot. "Where the fuck did you hear that?"

Chuck doesn't bother to answer. If he says he got it from one of Pat's rants, from the last time Chuck dared to compliment one of his sketches that Pat himself found lacklustre, then he'll never hear the end of it. Time to change tactics.

"That's fucking rich coming from you," Chuck grumbles, sitting up in hopes that it'll give him a better vantage point to bash Lieb's head in with that ugly tasseled nonsense pillow they'd stolen from Babe and Eugene last year. "How does it go? 'Dear Reader: Let me tell you about a boy' ?"

The effect is instantaneous, and a bright red flush climbs up from Lieb's neck all the way to his luscious hairline, and maybe even beyond. There's more to be recited, the lines of the anonymous memoir essay entitled "Let Me Tell You About a Boy" published to the campus paper last quarter very much fresh in Chuck's mind. He'd set out to read it after the first time he'd caught Lieb tucking it away into his bag, like a dirty little secret pleasure he wanted no one to know about. He never reads the campus paper, the illiterate snob bastard, so his interest had piqued Chuck's own. So he'd read it. And then laughed so hard he'd nearly peed himself.

After a quick check with everyone on a group chat he made for this purpose alone, Chuck had confirmation enough: Anonymous his fucking ass. Perhaps to the rest of the campus, but not to them. Most of their friend group were certain enough of the essay's origin about mid-first paragraph to comfortably guess the hand that had penned the nearly two thousand word essay, what with half of them often being reluctant editors to one David Kenyon Webster. Still, a guess was not a guarantee, and while 99.9% of them were sure of its author, Lieb still had room for doubt, and so, the (alleged) very detailed and very intimate look into their relationship and Web's feelings on the matter had largely gone ignored.

At least to the public. In private, Lieb burned, and kept a copy folded up and flattened out as best it could be in the back of his phone case.

Chuck doesn't need to look at it to recite the best parts. He continues, as the pillow finally meets its target and Lieb falls under the barrage of hits. "His wit is cutting, cunning, and sly. I find myself infuriated and charmed by it in equal measure. There's a poet in him, and while I am not so much of an egoist that I cannot admit that he is better than me in some aspects of verse, I am loathe to confess that he's quickly become my muse. It's the way he says words, I think. I like how his mouth makes shapes around them. The purse of his lips. The clack of his teeth. The rough timbre of his voice, the way it curls out his lips like cigarette smoke. He has a smart mouth. It worries me how often my eyes are drawn to it--"

"Shut the fuck up!" oh, Lieb's properly red now. And panting, sitting up to retaliate best he could by kicking his feet in a poor imitation of a cat with prey in its mouth. He makes contact, momentarily, with Chuck's stomach, and the force of it leaves him properly winded. Lieb shows no mercy. He pushes him off, and huffs; "fuck you."

"Fuck you, too, buddy," Chuck wheezes, though he says it with a smile. "Quit being a fucking coward."

"Quit being a pretentious narcissist."

"Quit being so gay."

"Quit being so sad."

The pillow comes back out. "No. You."

"No, you!"

Lieb kicks at him again. "You!"

"No. You!"

They devolve into a tussle. And it only ends when the pizza they ordered for dinner arrives with several pointed knocks on their door.

[turquoisemagpie]

... Still thinking about the intro to episode 1, Before the Beginning. 

Mainly over two things: 

1) How parental Crowley is over the stars.  He’s so proud of them! He compliments them, he’s awestruck by them to the point of not really hearing Aziraphale introduce himself, and when he’s asked about them, be eagerly explains how they’re still young, but will grow up to become something bigger and much more amazing than they already are. He sounds like a very giddy proud father over his children, which makes him all the more heartbroken when he learns that they won’t be allowed to reach their full potential because Heaven plans to make life last only 6000 years. He seems so upset that it’s likely that this moment is what drove him to ask God questions, which would doom him. He didn’t necessarily know he would lose his place as an angel, and thus nothing was holding him back from do so, even though he was discretely warned by Aziraphale not to do so. How much time it took him from there to be damned is unclear: he stuck around long enough to ‘help build’ other nebulas, which shows he still carries on making Space, even though he knows it’s pointless. He carries on! He really cares for the stars, as if they’re humans! It’s no surprise that when he’s introduced to actual humans, he treats them with the same sense of preservation, even if his actions are devious - him being a demon and all. He has a hopeful inkling of potential in all things that are not under Heaven or Hell’s jurisdictions, and he got that from making the stars. (I think this came across to me because it is David Tennant, who played one of the most space-obsessed AND empathetic Doctors of Doctor Who, so there may be bias, but still.) 

2) How Crowley couldn’t make his nebula without Aziraphale’s help.  Whether you think it’s fate or coincidence that Crowley reached out to the first angel he saw and just so happened to spot Aziraphale passing by, it was Aziraphale who held things in place for Crowley to do what he needed to complete his masterpiece. He was the one of the first to witness the nebula’s creation, see how it was done, and see how happy Crowley was to see it all working. Aziraphale is not entirely sure what’s going on to give Crowley the praise he deserves, and deep down he knows that the nebula will be rendered pointless after the Apocalypse, but he still compliments Crowley’s work. And instantly Aziraphale feels empathy for Crowley when he gets upset of how his stars won’t become what he expects of them in time, and he’s very scared for him when he realises Crowley will ask God some questions, ultimately damning him to hell - scared enough to discretely warn him. He didn’t have to, he could have left after he’d done what he needed, but he stuck around, to know what Crowley was doing and what he was planning to do next. He was a part of the first minutes of the stars and the nebulas’ creation. 

These two angels being there to the creation of this corner of Space is pretty sweet. It can be interpreted anyway! Whether someone wants to personify these star systems as Crowley’s (and possibly Aziraphale’s) progenies, or children even (if concepts like war, famine and pollution can be personified on earth, so can cosmic entities like stars!). Or someone wants this nebula to be the physical symbol of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship lasting beyond any of heaven or hell’s expectations, their own place for them to run away together, made before they even knew they could be ‘together’. Whatever anyone thinks, it’s possible! I’m so happy this scene existed at all, but not just because it shows Crowley before he fell, or that it confirms Aziraphale technically knew Crowley before he fell, but because it shows the caring, creative, hopeful side of both Crowley and Aziraphale. 

Crowley is a creator, possibly to a god-like level, and Aziraphale knows this and respects it. That’s why he doesn’t directly stop Crowley’s hellish actions when he’s a demon - he knows Crowley would have something up his sleeve. But what Aziraphale doesn’t know yet is that Crowley can’t do it all on his own, and when they work together, and go beyond the limits of Earth, Heaven and Hell, they can create incredible things. 

(side note: I wonder if Crowley ever went to check up on his first nebula after he fell. How much freedom did he have to go to space after he fell (guessing that Hell is a Dante’s Divine Comedy ‘Hell is underground in the centre of the earth’)? If not, well, he collects space books - does search for space news of human technology taking better and better pictures of his work every time? Does he smile as how well they’re doing? Does he miss them?...)

[transingthoseformers]

Starscream stopped mid rant when he heard BA and Sentinel's ages. Rendered him speechless. He's spluttering and gesticulating wildly. Total loss for words. Megatron would rib him over it but he's stuned himself.

Megatron, "We've been fighting literal children the whole time we've been on this accursed dirt ball?!"

BA who has dropped to the floor has been clasped to the bosom of a loudly verklempt Lugnut who is very upset that they turned her into a youngling soldier and the Autobot Negligence that let her get icky organic-ed when she should have been being cherished by her creators.

Blitzwing looking at Sentinel, "They put Newsparks in the care of a mechling?! This is serious. Oooh we'll need to expand zee nursery!"

Sentinel feeling lost and confused, "What in the pit are mechlings, younglings, and sparklings anyways?"

"Deceptacon specific developmental stages, you idiot." BA snarling from Lugnut's embrace.

Starscream recovering himself to give an impromptu leson in CYBERTRON developmental mechanobiology.

Bee and Bulkhead are legit early teens and preteens when they got ejected from boot camp. The Deceptacons are learning this because of a muttering paceing Sentinel. Because on one hand preposterous, on the other it explains so much.

Exactly yes yes, it takes quite a lot to make Starscream speechless but that did the trick

Sdfhhfd oh Lugnut yes, hugging BA because now the cons are thinking about all the times they sent her into battle and had her working on science shit too, and how the Autobots downright abandoned her and let her get spidery. But also because we all HC that Lugnut and Strika are very parental people

Blitzwing is over here planning yes yes (his facets may argue, but they full well agree on this. How they'll go about it however will vary)

Mmmm our favorite, unplanned biology lessons!

Yep yep, and considering what I've seen of that tfa episode I'd suggest Bulkhead is a little older than Bumblebee for the factor of him having lived on an energon farm for a little while, but with Bumblebee we get back shit of his pre boot camp life beyond "having dreamed of being part of the elite guard" which is starting to make me consider a situation where he (at LEAST him, if not him and Bulkhead) wasn't kicked out of boot camp.

This also makes me ask questions about if Shockwave would know or not, and in general his pov in this sitch

[insertpoetryhere]

Dadbastian Week: Setting Sun

"Poetry you're a week late" I know, I had midterms this week and i was cooked alive. But I'm better now and I have this thing to make up for the fact that I skipped an entire day. My official (a week overdue) sendoff to Dadbastain Week 2023!

A huge thank you to @dadbastianweek2023 for organizing such a cool event and for all the participants who might be some of the most talented creators I've ever seen! Also thank you to everyone who helped my indecisive ass pick a name for the dog.

My Baby, My Baby

Escape had been impossible. 

Sebastian did not often make a habit of avoiding his young master, but he had to do what had to be done to maintain some semblance of peace. Then again, one of his (former) favorite things had always been his stubborn determination.

And all it took was cornering him in the foyer and ordering him to sit down to render him completely helpless. Now it was just him, Ciel, and the 14 page hand-written essay entitled “why we should get a dog”.

The essay was, as the title implied, an itemized list of every reason he could think for why the manor needed a dog.

Number one: A dog would offer an added layer of protection.

Number four: Dogs were very good for hunting.

Number fifteen: Ciel could not leave his dirty dishes in his study anymore since chocolate would make the dog sick.

Number twenty-eight: A dog would gladly eat anything that fell on the floor.

Number fifty-one: Ciel would allegedly never ever ever ask Sebastian for his assistance on a major purchase ever again.

Sebastian had scoffed at that one, realizing how serious Ciel must be to acknowledge his own lack of control over his pocket money so openly. Usually Sebastian’s status as the keeper of Ciel’s check book was something that the two of them did not discuss. After all, his young master was not a fan of acknowledging his own age and there was a little bit more dignity in pretending that Sebastian was put in charge of the Phantomhive finances by choice.

Regardless of pride, Ciel was still a child. And as a child, he needed Sebastian to sign off any and all money.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate your… dedication.” Sebastian had to cut Ciel off once they reached the part that the young earl had written entirely in broken German as a way to prove that his dedication to his studies would remain unchanged. “But could you not just order me to sign off on this?”

The idea of having a dog in the house made him want to gag, but Ciel’s German was simply where he had to draw the line. 

Ciel looked up from his paper, eyeing Sebastian as if he had said something unequivocally stupid. “Of course not, you would just buy the dog and then get rid of it immediately afterwards. Or you would make sure the dog is of poor health so that it wouldn’t last long anyways.” His gaze was steely and serious, a stark juxtaposition to the very childish conversation at hand. “I need you completely and fully on board.”

Sebastian sighed, cursing his consistency and communication skills for making his movements so predictable. “Then may we continue this discussion as I do the housework? I fear I can’t stay seated through- how many more are there?”

“Ninety-four.” Ciel didn’t even look back down at his paper. Which was somewhat terrifying.

“... Walk and talk.” He stood up from the chair(he did not understand why humans felt the need to sit for so long).

Ciel perked up (“Like a dog” is how Sebastian’s brain finished that sentence, which made him frown) and followed behind him as he carried on with his day.

Number sixty-six: Ciel would never complain again.

Laughable.

Number seventy-five: Ciel would never bother Sebastian again.

Again, hilarious.

Number eighty-three: A portion written and performed entirely in broken latin to further show his commitment, which was somehow worse than the German portion had been.

That one was… long.

Number ninety: Please.

Ok, now this was getting to Sebastian. 

Number ninety-

“Okay, stop!” Sebastian couldn’t take it. He couldn’t handle the… pleading and the voice and the any of it. Especially not now as he juggled pots and pans in the kitchen, trying to make sense of the mess Mey Rin had left behind in the wake of “preparing lunch” while Ciel ate said lunch in the kitchen with him, speaking even louder so that he might be heard over the sound of metal clinking together.

Ciel looked up, hopeful. As if he had been planning to induce a headache the entire time. “So you are in agreement?”

Sebastian bit his lip. This was psychological warfare and he was losing, goddamnit. His eyes settled on the box of eggs, still left out on the counter despite the fact that lunch had not needed eggs for its preparation at all. He smiled coyly before picking one up and handing it to the young master.

Ciel took it, confused. “What’s this for?”

“That,” Sebastian said pointedly. “Is to show me you understand the responsibility of looking after something too stupid to look after itself.”

It was meant to be a jab at him, but Ciel didn’t react. Instead, he held the egg gentler, staring at it as if it was made of gold. “How long do I have?”

“Until sundown.” Sebastian turned his attention back to the chores, relishing in how much quieter the kitchen had gotten.

“And if I give this egg back to you unharmed, you will approve the purchase of a dog without complaint?” He raised an eyebrow, like he was trying to unpack the ways in which this could blow up in his face.

“Mhm.” Sebastian was only half listening as he put the rest of the eggs away and began scrubbing the dishes.

Ciel stared at the egg suspiciously now. “And this isn’t a trick? I have your word that you-”

“Would you like me to change my mind?” Sebastian interrupted, the seriousness in his voice enough to make the boy shake his head and run off to provide a life for his practice pet. Sebastian sighed, eyeing a clock on the wall. He had bought himself at least six hours, plenty of time for Ciel to either break the egg or lose interest in the activity entirely.

While the idea of either cleaning the remnants of a broken egg or tracking down a rotten one weeks later did not appeal to him in the slightest, anything was better than having to deal with a dog.

In short, he had won.

---

He had expected Ciel to get bored after an hour or so. Either that or break the egg and give up on the whole ordeal. So naturally when the bell in the basement tripped, alerting Sebastian that he was needed in the study, he had thought peace was on the horizon.

What he did not expect was to see the young master seated at his desk, the egg sitting on a plush velveteen pillow. 

The egg had its own space on the desk, not too close to the edge and not too far from Ciel in case of an emergency. Ciel himself stared Sebastian down, his list of what appeared to be dog names completely abandoned the moment the door opened.

“Do you need something, my lord?” Sebastian asked after an abnormally long bout of silence.

“No.” He said shortly, still staring at Sebastian intently.

The demon blinked. “... You rang?”

“I did not ring.” Ciel said, still staring. “You must be hearing things.”

“... I see.” Sebastian wondered if behavior like this would warrant regular appointments with a shrink. His boy was staring at him and had an egg on a pillow. Even he found this disturbing and pondered on exactly what kind of monster he had created.

Ciel cleared his throat as the silence persisted. “The egg is well.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as he understood what this was; An official declaration of war. “I see that.”

Ciel continued to stare. “It has a pillow.”

“I am aware.” Sebastian’s cold glare turned to the egg as he pondered ways to turn the tides in his favor. Clearly he had underestimated Ciel’s resolve. Maybe during tea, he could-

“I order you not to touch the egg in any capacity.” He had to be able to read minds. He had to somehow be in Sebastian’s head.

That little bastard.

Sebastian pursed his lips together in a tight, displeased line. “As you wish, my lord.”

Ciel nodded, his gaze a perfect mirror image of the cruel glare Sebastian had become so well known for. “You are dismissed.”

---

It had been Sebastian’s idea for Bard to offer to take Ciel hunting. Partially incentivized by an advance on the cook’s Christmas bonus.

“I’ll take ’im out without the bribe,” Bard laughed, a cigarette tucked between his teeth. “Jus’ not sure why you don’t want to come along.”

Because that was part of the appeal. A hunting trip with Bard (the significantly more fun chaperone) where Ciel was allowed to use the good guns that they kept in the cellar (which he was normally not allowed access to). A level of reckless, irresponsible fun that no teenage boy could refuse.

Evident by the way that he nearly jumped out of his seat, banding his knee against his desk (it did not knock the egg from its perch, sadly) before regaining his composure.

“I suppose, if it will pass the time.” He said passively, trying to rub his injured knee without anyone noticing.

It wasn’t until he looked back down at his desk that the boy seemed to realize why the offer had been made in the first place; The egg could not be left unattended.

He looked up at Sebastian in malice, who only smiled sweetly back. His master was not stupid. Surely he would see this hunting trip as a once in a lifetime offer and wisely abandon this silly egg game for more entertaining pursuits. Triumph at last.

All three men in the room stood in a triangle, each staring at the egg as it sat innocently on its pillow; Ciel in contemplation, Sebastian in cruel victory, and Bard in… confusion. Which made sense, seeing as no one had let him in on the egg deal.

A light bulb may as well have popped up above Ciel’s head as he grabbed the egg off of its pillow. “I shall return shortly.”

The boy bolted out of the room, leaving Sebastian standing there with a displeased glare.

“... Was that an egg?” Bard asked, but received no response from Sebastian as the demon butler glared at the door, waiting for his master’s return. “Why does he have an egg?”

Ciel returned only a few minutes later, a small bag used for carrying dice tied onto one of his belt loops with a secureness that only could have been achieved by Finny. So the boys were in cahoots… lovely.

“Ready when you are.” He announced with a triumphant grin.

Sebastian grumbled. Foiled once more.

---

“Dogs cannot sit at the table` At this point in the day, Sebastian was getting petty. But the hunting trip had not even broken the damned thing, and the only other option he could think of was having Mey Rin shoot the god forsaken thing off of its pillow (something she was disturbingly excited to try). So yes, he was taking some of those frustrations out on Ciel and the egg.

Ciel looked up from his dinner, which he had not yet gotten the chance to take a bite out of. “That wasn’t part of the deal!” He argued.

Sebastian shrugged. “It would prove your dedication.”

He was either going to put the egg on the ground and accidentally step on it, forget it, or finally give up. He had to. Sebastian had no other ideas for how to get rid of this thing (unless he took Mey Rin up on her offer, that is). His migraine worsened as he imagined the sound of barking joining in with the other annoyances of his day to day life.

He needed Ciel to either fuck up or give up.

Ciel glared, taking the egg (still on that stupid pillow) in his hand. Sebastian swore he heard angels singing as Ciel did so, assuming that his plan had worked. But then Ciel picked up his plate as well, and Sebastian watched in annoyance as he took both items over to the wall and sat down.

His stubbornness knew no bounds.

“I will not fetch anything from the table for you if you are going to behave this way.” Sebastian said, standing firmly by the table as Ciel settled himself comfortably on the floor.

Ciel placed the egg on the ground and his plate in his lap, taking a bite. “I don’t require anything anyways.”

Sebastian eyed the full glass of water still sitting on the table. “Hm.”

Ciel took a big, defiant bite of gravy-less chicken.

---

It was official.

This had possibly been the biggest mistake of his career.

The sun had just dipped down the horizon when he heard the distinct sounds of footsteps running down the stairs. Fitting for Ciel to catch him in the kitchen once again, like the boy was returning to the scene of the crime where he had brutally murdered Sebastian’s pride only hours before.

And in he came, like a bat out of hell, holding his intact egg up in triumph. He had won the war.

His face was bright as the sun, something that Sebastian found no pleasure in as he grappled with his fate.

“... I feel that this test needs another day.” He tried in vain.

Ciel shook his head. “You gave your word. No going back now.”

Sebastian groaned, hiding his face behind his hand as he sunk down into one of the kitchen chairs. He sighed, gesturing across the little table to the chair right across from him. He listened as Ciel shuffled over, taking a seat and setting the egg down on the table with a soft plunk. The kitchen table of negotiation.

“... I have conditions.” Sebastian said plainly, taking his face out of hiding now that he was sure he didn’t look on the verge of tears. 

Ciel nodded eagerly and receptively, a much more enthusiastic audience than he usually is. 

“The dog will not share the same name as me.” He said sternly, despite it being a ridiculous request.

“The name is already picked out, so there will be no trouble there.” Ciel said, leaning forward excitedly.

Sebastian sighed, still in disbelief that he was agreeing to this at all. “You said you wanted a hunting dog, so you will get a hunting dog. We will go to a proper breeder and collect one that is already housebroken. No puppies, am I understood?”

Ciel did not look disappointed in the slightest. He nodded just as eagerly as before. “Anything else?”

God this receptiveness was disturbing.

“It will not go on any furniture that you would accept guests.” Sebastian said sternly. “I will not have people leaving the manor covered in dog hair.”

“Understood.” Ciel agreed, watching him intently. Sebastian narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what else Ciel wanted.

“... Those are my only demands.”

But he still stared at him, almost like he was losing confidence. It took Sebastian a while to realize that he was waiting for the explicit confirmation, something to set this plan in stone. He sighed. “We will leave in the morning.”

That smile was back, just as bright as the sun.

---

They left first thing in the morning, with Ciel already up and laying out clothing on his own by the time Sebastian opened the door. So he was capable of such behavior. What a miracle.

Sebastian had taken some comfort when they arrived at the breeder’s, who trotted out his most well behaved dogs that he had deemed “fit for an earl” (Sebastian was happy to have an ally in this situation. God knows Bard hadn’t been any help).

But of course, the one that caught Ciel’s eye was a wild-tempered greyhound who nearly topped him over trying to lick his face.The boy had laughed, only half-way trying to push the dog off of him while the other scratched behind the beast’s ear encouragingly.

The breeder, who had initially apologized profusely for the dog’s behavior, laughed at the sight and said “I suppose the Earl is just a boy.”

A traitorous leech if Sebastian had ever met one-

So of course the wretched creature came home with them.

On top of being nearly uncontrollable, the cursed little thing was ugly as could be. Long in every sense of the word and fairly pathetic looking. The only silver lining that could be found in this was that the beast had the decency to ignore Sebastian entirely, lavishing all his ghastly affection on Ciel instead.

This affection did seem to delight Ciel though, who Sebastian had never seen smile as much as he did that day.

So maybe the dog wasn’t so bad.

“He cannot be on the bed!” Sebastian protested, attempting to wave the creature off of the comforter and pulling his hand away when the damned thing snapped its jaws at his sleeve as if Sebastian’s arm was the rope toy that Ciel had wasted his whole afternoon throwing across the garden.

Ciel’s head popped through the top of his nightdress and his attention went right back to the dog (as if it hadn’t been there all day). “I don’t take guests in my bedroom, so he can be on the bed.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, watching in disgust as the thing dragged its ham bone from dinner on the bed right next to it. Ciel climbed in, petting the dog behind his left ear and delighting in the way it threw its head back affectionately, trying to reach the boy’s face in order to lick it. “Good boy, Detective!”

“Call him by his proper name,” Sebastian scolded, lifting the boy up by the armpits and tossing him onto the sheets so he could pull the comforter up to his chin. The dog bounded up after him, letting out a bark that made Sebastian flinch back in disgust with his hands up. “He will never respond to it if you keep calling him ‘Detective’.”

The dog also didn’t deserve such a title. The lights were not all on upstairs.

“Alright then,” Ciel scratched the top of the damned creature’s head as he settled down on top of the comforter, as close to the boy as he could manage. “Good boy, Sherlock.���

Sherlock Holmes was the dog’s full, legal name. Which made Sebastian roll his eyes. “Don’t praise him for such behavior, he wished to take my hand as a souvenir.”

“He would never harm a fly,” Ciel cooed unbecomingly, snuggling closer to the animal. “Would you, boy?”

The dog groaned, both his and his little master’s energy seeming to have left their bodies like a lightning flash leaves a stormcloud. Sebastian moved about the room, picking up the clothing that had gotten scattered around the floor by Sherlock himself, who seemed to think everything but eating and sleeping was a game. In a sense, he supposed that meant he fit his master perfectly.

He could feel Ciel doze off, falling into a deep sleep at an alarming speed. His soft snores filled the room, making Sebastain smile fondly.

“You pulled the wool over my eyes once again, Young Lord.” He whispered, depositing the clothes into a small hamper for washing while the rest of the house slept. “Equal parts clever and cruel.”

Even he couldn’t shake the pride, watching the boy smile in his sleep after his victory. In a way, cruelty was their way of being kind. Not the excessive kind, but the kind that forced their days into a chess game of sorts. And when Ciel was able to pull the rug from underneath Sebastian, it made him feel… significant.

Which was a ridiculous thought to have. He was already plenty significant.

But seeing himself reflected back, growing sharper and harsher, and somehow better than him by the day… It was almost a purpose on its own.

That pride melted away to annoyance when the boy turned in his sleep, his eyepatch still on. Honestly, it was like Sebastian had to do everything.

He set the laundry down, walking over to the bed and reaching his hand towards Ciel’s sleeping form.

That was when a set of sharp teeth snapped down on his hand, forcing him to jump back. He propped his hand away, blood undoubtedly dripping onto the carpet as Sherlock let go of him with a vicious snarl. Sebastian immediately removed his glove, attempting to use it to reduce the mess as he swore under his breath.

He looked back up at the dog, who stood over his boy protectively as he growled lowly at Sebastian. His teeth were bared, still showing evidence of the attack he had given as a warning. 

Sebastian went to scold the damned beast when his eyes fell on the contract seal, painted red and exposed now that the glove was removed. It made his voice drop into his stomach with a heavy kind of thud. He supposed in a way, he had been very wrong  about Sherlock. He was just smart enough to protect his little master.

And he knew a threat when he saw one.

“Good boy, Detective.” Sebastian said sadly as the dog laid across Ciel’s torso, not once taking his eyes off of Sebastian. “Good boy.”

[krinsbez]

reverse unpopular opinion: Superman

Well, I love him, obviously. Whether or not he actually is the first superhero, he is THE archetypical superhero, and he's still better than the vast majority of his imitators.

Character shows up and instantly renders an entire genre obsolete, while launching a whole new one*. And y'all know I love Pulp Heroes, and I think they still have a place in hte pop culture landscape and deserve more love, but pop culture would be a lot less fun without superheroes.

Of course, that's talking about his affect, rather than the character himself, and TBH, it's hard for me to think of what to say about how awesome this character is that hasn't already been said better by other people?

So, I'm going to talk about one of the things that makes him work so well, and that is hybrid vigor. Because there's a lot going on with Supes. He's a mish-mash of pop science, significance portions of which are nonsense. His creators called him John Carter in reverse, and there's clearly quite a bit of Doc Savage in him. He's a bit like Moses**, and a bit like the Messiah***, but he doesn't really quite fit either archetype (notably he isn't in charge). He dresses like a circus performer, he talks like a Hollywood tough guy, he's built like a prizefighter rather than the perfect Adonis he is today (granted, back then they didn't expect movie stars to look like Vitruvian Man), I am not quite sure where I'm going with this, the point is he's cobbled together from a grab-bag of stuff his creators thought was cool, and the result is greater than it's parts.

Oddly, one of the most profound things ever said about Superman was a comment made in the Giffen-Roger-Hamner Blue Beetle run by Peacemaker. He says he doesn't trust any aliens, and when Superman is brought up as a counter-axample, he says Superman doesn't count, because he isn't an alien, he's an American.

And this isn't significant because of some sort of rah-rah jingoism. Peacemaker says that because he's an American (although I think originally he was Swiss, but by the time this comic was written he basically had no resemblance to the original conception anyways), so that's how expresses the core sentiment. The point is that despite the powers and being conceived on another planet, SUPERMAN IS ONE OF US.

G-D I hope this is somewhat coherent.

Thanks for asking!

*I am aware that his status as the first Superhero is arguable. That's not the point.

**I have in the basis complained about people overselling the character's ties to Judaism, but there is definitely some Jewishness in there, albeit filtered through a highly secularized lens, and also extremely American, even though one of his creators was Canadian.

***I mean as understood by Rabbinic Judaism, not Jesus, never that, please stop making him Jesus, folks. Leaving asides the appropriation thing, AIUI Jesus' was a sacrifice for the sins of mankind via his suffering and that's just...not what Superman's about.

[odysseywritings]

Nihil

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Death had been busy on the day the world died. The skeleton glided across the empty roads, buildings, and towns with only the wind accompanying. Death had never been so overworked even during wars. The quiet chill of wind blew through the skeleton's eye sockets in a morbid dirge as the only physical remnants of humanity were clothing, accessories and toys, and their shadows.

Death adorned itself with a mixture of clothes to alleviate boredom. A politician's pressed suit, a worker's muddy boots, and carrying a child's blanket. Death danced around and sighed as every place mirrored the last. Emptiness in the bustling cities. Emptiness in the cloistered temples and schools. Emptiness in the sports stands. Emptiness in every house with pictures of the deceased.

Death stopped as it witnessed a survivor observing an abandoned missile command. The stranger was dressed plainly and smiled blankly. Perhaps an android the humans made to look like them out of scientific egoism. The stranger followed Death in its travel like a helpless automaton without a creator. Soft rain came and went and the android didn't react, surprising Death, as these usually jolt from water. But it didn't seem like an important issue and the two moved on. Death never asks why. It just is.

The blue sky now a sickly brown shade with smog underneath. The mess was enough to wipe out bacteria as nothing rotted anymore. The stillness of everything further enhanced the oddity of the stranger. Not important to Death's job yet suspicious all the same.

Death saw hospitals cluttered inside and out with clothes of patients and staff. Death wasn't imaginative but could assume the worst. The skeleton looked to the android, whom had a pleasant smile for the sight, unusual for a robot or a man. This at last made Death speak.

"Who are you? You are alive yet have no soul. You are in motion yet you do not rust."

The stranger paused and looked at Death with that endless smile.

"Suppose it would be accurate to call me an impartial observer. I have examined humanity near and far and I was infinitely curious on their exciting endeavors."

The stranger held out his hand to create a fly. The fly buzzed and flew around before the intense radiation withered it away. Death begrudgingly took its soul and looked at the stranger, with the world around him darkening.

"I am not one for ruminating or judging. Nor do I unjustly contribute credit to that which has occurred for eons. The Promethean flame could never be contained with the same care as one does with his traditions. It is within man to grow and destroy, and lest another grows more than he, or worse yet take what is thought or felt from he, then it is better that both surrender to you than to lose."

The world obscured around the stranger, blurred and dissolving, crumbling and blowing away like sand.

"What are you saying?"

"Nothing controversial, I assure you. There are no historians to write this for truth or hagiography, thus rendering this human experiment forgotten and failed. It is simply too easy for them club, stab, shoot, and bomb the other. They are monotonous in their cruelty, though I admit the efficiency of this last action, however hasty and panicked."

The last images of earth blew away by wind and charred by the sun. Only Death and the placid stranger floating in the void were around.

"I enjoy a healthy conversation yet it can only last for so long before boredom takes root. I may see to it that the next turn goes smoother. No promises."

The stranger ripped a hole in the void as a white light grew larger and wider. Death took a chance for a new beginning and the hole shrank. There in the void of lifelessness, the stranger was all and everything of value. Content in power and free from death and life. Forever.

[shigarakis-cumdump]

Day 8: Frankenstein Dabi

(If you like what you read, consider supporting me on Ao3!)

Kinktober 2023 masterlist here!

Happy Halloween! 🎃

Title: The Monster You Created

Summary: After all your hard work, hours in the lab finally paid off. You finally had recreated life! A real life person, all to yourself? This could be fun..

Cw: mentions of blood

Word Count: 1k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

All your hard work has finally paid off. You spent months researching and creating different formulas to clone and create life. Everyone thought you were crazy, that you would never accomplish it. But you proved them all wrong. 

“Awaken!” You yelled as you pulled the lever. The lights in your laboratory flickered as electricity flowed through the chair your subject was in. Jolts surged through the body and started the heart up, and your monitor showed a steady heartbeat and faint breath. You gasped, a tear shedding from your eye due to happiness. Your subject's eyes flickered open and looked around the room. 

“Hello?” you asked.

In a cracked voice, your subject replies, “who are you?”

“I’m your creator, Y/N. Do you know your name?”

“D-Dabi..” he said, almost confused as he said his name out loud. 

“Yes! Yes, your name is Dabi!” You laughed, the memory transformation seemed to work. 

Before you locked yourself away and started this project, you previously worked for the league of villains as one of their doctors. One day when they were out fighting the biggest heroes in Japan, Dabi got gravely injured and was rendered unconscious. When Shigaraki asked you to help, there wasn’t much you could do since he was pronounced dead upon arrival. He said he would pay a large amount if you were able to make Dabi come back to life, so you took on the project. Months later, Dabi was finally reborn, but you added some improvements to this once horrid individual. 

“Do you remember what happened to you?”

“I was.. I was with a group of people and…” Dabi trailed off, not being able to pinpoint what happened. 

“It’s alright, it’s only natural you’d forget, especially after something so horrible..” you sighed, “we were out one night, and when I went off without you, some thugs attacked me.. But thankfully you came to my rescue and dealt with them. That is, until one of them hit you over the head with a crowbar and knocked you out.. But they didn’t stop, I was so scared for you,” you start to tear up.

“Don’t think about it,” he sat up, grabbing your shoulder, "I'm alright now, thanks to you,” Dabi smiled. 

You were surprised he believed the lie; you weren’t sure the memory erasing would work completely. He wiped the tear from your eye and leaned in closer. “Is it alright if I..?”

“Yes,” you smile, letting him kiss you. His lips were cold, and his skin was pale, but his heart was beating, and you couldn’t be happier. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Several weeks after Dabi’s awakening, you two had fallen into a routine. You’d wake up together, enjoy breakfast, spend the day shopping and sightseeing, before ending the night with dinner and cuddling in bed. It was everything you could’ve asked for. Dabi had been getting more handsy with you lately, too, and it was something you were hesitant about. Not because you didn't want to, but you didn’t know if his body could handle it. Needless to say, it could. 

“Fuck, faster Dabi, don’t stop,” you whine into the crook of his neck as he thrusts into you ruthlessly. 

“Feels so good, god you’re amazing..” he praises, kissing your neck. His cock was still cold, much like the rest of him, almost like a vampire would be. Your warm cunt wrapping around his cock sent shivers up his spine, driving him mad with pleasure that pushed him to destroy you further. Dabi quickened his pace, moaning and grunting filling the otherwise silent room. You claw at his back, your nails tearing at his scars and drawing blood. Dabi winces at the pain, but it’s quickly followed by his narrowing eyes, filled with an otherworldly look of lust and sadism. He lifts your leg over his shoulder, letting his cock drill deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot perfectly. 

You grip the sheets, back arching as you feel yourself about to cum for the second time tonight. Dabi laughs, and his thrusts become slow but powerful. He can feel your pussy begging for more with the way your walls cling around him, forcing him in deeper. 

“Don’t edge me Dabi, I want to cum so bad!” you cry as you furrow your brows in frustration. 

“Aw yeah? Then beg me for it, doll~” He says, which was a bit funny considering he was more of the doll. 

“Please, Dabi, please let me cum, I need you so bad!” You arch your back and try moving your hips to relieve yourself, but he holds you down and traps you underneath him. 

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes please..” you whimper through moans, desperate to get him to start moving again. Dabi grabs your tits and gropes you, pinching at your nipples to wind you up even more before bringing back his relentless pace. He was close, too, but he wasn’t focused on his own pleasure. After all, you designed him to be perfect for you. 

“Fuck Dabi can I please cum? I can’t take it anymore, ‘feels too good!” You scream, barely able to hold back the pleasure from overtaking you before his command. 

“Cum for me, doll, let me feel you cum around this cock.” 

That was all it took for you to roll over the hill and orgasm, his words releasing you to a whole new world of pleasure only he could make you feel.

“That’s it, baby, cum for me, just like that..” he talks you through it as he caresses your cheek, giving you loving kisses all over your body. 

When you finally come down from your high, Dabi makes sure to get a towel and draw a bath for the both of you. Afterwards, the two of you get into bed like always, and cuddle until you fall asleep resting in his arms. This was truly a scientific breakthrough.

[transformers-mosaic]

Transformers: Mosaic - "Daddy's Little Girl"

Originally posted on May 30th, 2008

Story, Script, Art, Letters - Michael J. Trampert Script - Lindsay Smith

deviantART | Seibertron | BotTalk

wada sez: Okay, time to talk about the most infamous Mosaic strip by far—in conversations about the project, it’s roughly 50/50 whether this one will come up, and the fact that IDW stopped printing Mosaic strips is often attributed directly to this comic. I felt it was important to repost this strip to put this into question: I can find no evidence to support the claim, and there was a span of several months where IDW was still putting together issues with Mosaic strips. Not only that, but in the surviving threads where the comic was discussed, fan reception seems to be almost entirely unironically positive; I assume the deleted TFW2005 and deviantART threads were where the backlash occurred. It seems obvious to me that Mosaic lead Josh van Reyk personally had no problem with the comic, but did the right thing in removing it in response to valid negative feedback. The co-credit of Smith on this comic’s script is also something that I think goes unremarked upon.

It only takes a cursory look online to see that Trampert is a creep, a creator of CGI smut and essays about the exact biological specifics of Transformers intercourse, and that’s as far as I’m willing to engage with him as an individual. Per my usual policy, I’ve archived several relevant pieces of Moonracer fanart below the break. Shipping is obviously not inherently objectionable; it’s infantilisation as a fetish and the overtly prurient nature of this material—which in multiple cases was submitted to art contests on the IDW forums—that I consider shameful.

Sex is an interesting lens through which to view Transformers, which—as a universe built to sell action figures to little boys—often strains against its own asexuality, as middle-aged men crash over and over against the rock of “but WHY are there girl robots” and churn out endless toyless OCs rendered with the same parodic porcelain-doll hourglass figure, lest anyone get confused. If you’ve ever talked about Transformers with another adult, it’s a fair bet that they eventually were unable to restrain themself from asking “so, do they bone or what?” It’s all those worst impulses which have combined to birth this singular catastrophe.

I’ve previously remarked on Ironhide and Chromia’s relationship, in the annotations for a much better comic; it’s possible that, in a similar vein, Moonracer was named/conceived as a counterpart for the Autobot Sunstreaker, only for newer-product Powerglide to oust him in the script. Just to do my due diligence—Powerglide is drawn here as his Universe toy, Ironhide as the Timelines figure. As for the others: “Chromia started out as a Cybertron Brakedown with a new head, arms, and vehicle chassis. Moonracer started out as an LoC Starscream and heavily kitbashed with many scratch-built parts.” I know it was eating you up inside.

[childofchrist1983]

O israel, return unto the Lord thy God; for thou hast fallen by thine iniquity. Take with you words, and turn to the Lord: say unto him, Take away all iniquity, and receive us graciously: so will we render the calves of our lips. - Hosea 14:1-2 KJV

None of us is without sin. Hosea had been chosen to bring God's words to the northern Kingdom of Israel. Hosea is an interesting prophet who was married to an adulteress. In many ways, his marriage symbolized the relationship between God and Israel. Hosea loved Gomer in spite of her lack of fidelity. God loves Israel in spite of her infidelity, to her turning to idols and her lack of justice.

Just as Hosea never stops loving Gomer or abandoning her, God never abandons Israel. Hosea is begging the people to ask God for forgiveness, to return to Him with their mouths open in praise of God as He would accept the sacrifice of bulls from their herds. As we know, Hosea's pleas went unheard by the people, and the northern territory fell to Assyria, the people were killed or dispersed into other nations. We are also being told that we need to repent of our sins and ask God for forgiveness. Just because we're not breaking a stated Commandment does not mean that we are sinless. My goal this Lent is to be a better person – The person God called me to be. What about you? May we ask God's forgiveness and for Him to give us the grace we need to be the person He desires us to be and do the work He created us to do.

May we make sure that we give our hearts and lives to God and take time daily to seek and praise Him and share His Truth with the world. May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Word daily. May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful Lord, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in the Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

[pastortomsteers]

The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost

June 30, 2024

Pastor Tom Steers

Christ the Saviour Lutheran Church, Toronto

Divine Service Setting III (Pages 184 – 202)

OPENING HYMN:  461  “I Know That My Redeemer Lives”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wH17ko_QHBY

                                               

Confession and Absolution   Page 184-185

 

Introit

Psalm 121:5-8; antiphon 1-2

I lift up my eyes to the hills.     From where does my help come? 2 My help comes from the Lord,     who made heaven and earth.                                                                                                        5 The Lord is your keeper;     the Lord is your shade on your right hand. 6 The sun shall not strike you by day,     nor the moon by night.                                                                                                         7 The Lord will keep you from all evil;     he will keep your life. 8 The Lord will keep     your going out and your coming in     from this time forth and forevermore.                                                                                                        Glory be to the Father and to the Son

and to the Holy Spirit; 

as it was in the beginning,                                                                                                                               is now, and will be forever. Amen.                                                                                                                          I lift up my eyes to the hills.     From where does my help come? 2 My help comes from the Lord,     who made heaven and earth. 

                                                              

The Kyrie  (Lord Have Mercy)

Congregation:

Lord have mercy upon us.

Christ have mercy upon us.

Lord have mercy upon us.

The Salutation:

Pastor:  The Lord be with you.

Congregation:  And with thy spirit.

 

Our Collect Prayer:

Heavenly Father, during His earthly ministry Your Son Jesus healed the sick and raised the dead. By the healing medicine of the Word and Sacraments, pour into our hearts such love toward You that we may live eternally; through the same Jesus Christ, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

Our Bible Texts –

Frist Reading:  Lamentations 3:22-33

Psalm 30 (antiphon v.10)

Epistle Reading – 2nd Corinthians 8:1-9, 13-15

Our Gospel Reading – Mark 5:21-43

THE APOSTLES’ CREED   Page 192                                                                                                      OUR HYMN OF THE DAY:  846 ”Your Hand, O Lord, in Days of Old”

THE SERMON

Our Gospel text is a record of one miracle nested inside another.

But at the heart of these accounts lies the promise of eternal life, for you, and me.  

Jairus comes to Jesus because his daughter is deathly ill. 

Then, while Jesus is on His way to heal the girl, He encounters a woman suffering from a long-standing illness. 

From a human standpoint, there seems to be a dilemma. 

Should Christ stay and deal with the woman, or continue on with Jairus? 

If He remains, Jairus’ daughter may die. 

Fortunately, Jesus isn’t limited by human constraints, or viewpoints.

He was, and is, God in human flesh.

Lord and Creator of life, at the beginning of time, in Biblical times, and today.

When Jesus stops and turns around in a crowd that day, no one was more surprised than the woman who had touched His clothing. 

The verses make clear she wanted the healing to go unnoticed. 

Yet Jesus turns and asks , “Who touched my garments?” (Mark 5:30)

The woman, knowing what had happened to her, comes in fear and trembling.   

She falls down before Him and tells the truth. (Mark 5:33)

She was terrified that she’d be punished.

You see, the nature of her bleeding disorder rendered her just as unclean as a leper. 

The Old Testament ritual law concerning a woman with her condition was outlined in Leviticus. (15:25) 

Technically, the woman had sinned against every member of the crowd. 

Yet Mark’s account tells us Jesus had nothing but Gospel words for her. 

He says, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” (Mark 5:34)

Christ understood the ailment was among the least of the woman’s problems. 

If Jesus had let her go her way, she would still carry the guilt of her sins. 

The words of Jesus comfort her.

Yet He also gave her His grace and the reassurance of the Gospel – salvation through faith in Him.

Every one of us enters life with the same fear this woman had. 

Deep down, we know we don’t measure up. 

God’s Law, that the Bible tells us is written on our hearts, has convicted us of sin. (Jeremiah 31:33)

We know we need help.

We also know, from the Bible, that help can only come from one source -- the Lord. 

The Apostle Paul explained, “But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ – by grace you have been saved . . . . “ (Ephesians 2:4-5)

Many without Christ in their lives find themselves in the painful situation of needing help from a source that terrifies them. 

They need help from God when they’re in trouble, but want Him to otherwise stay away.

This fear began in the Garden of Eden, after the Fall.

Adam and Eve heard the footsteps of the Lord, but they knew they’d sinned.

They were guilty, ashamed.

In Genesis, “The Lord God called to the man and said to him, ‘Where are you?’ And he said, ‘I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid myself.’” (Genesis 3:8–10)

Since the day of the Fall, humanity has laboured under the false notion that we must ‘earn’ our way back into God’s favour. 

Somehow, we must fix what went wrong in Eden. 

That’s the reason most people believe religion is all about becoming a ‘better’ person to win God’s approval and forgiveness. 

Of course, anyone who is honest will readily admit they can’t pull this off. 

They know they can’t meet God’s standard of perfection. 

The Bible tells us that the fate of non-believers, of unrepentant deniers of Christ, is hell.

Yet, the sad thing about those terrified of their eternal future is that they have the idea of religion all wrong. 

True religion is not about you living a perfect life for God. 

It is about God taking on human flesh in Christ and living a perfect life for you. 

It is not about you getting right with God. 

It is about God, the Second Person of the Trinity, coming to earth in the Incarnation and dying on a cross so He can give His righteousness to you. 

It is not about you, paying the penalty for sin. 

It is about God paying that price for you when He goes to Calvary and endures the punishment we deserve. 

It is not about a God who demands and takes. 

It is about a God who offers forgiveness and eternal life to those who believe He has done this.

And even that faith is a gift worked within us by God’s means of grace: His Word and His Sacraments of Baptism and the Lord’s Supper.

The Sacraments instituted and commanded by Christ Himself.

God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8)

In our Gospel text, Jesus doesn’t allow the woman to sneak off with mere physical healing. 

He wanted to heal her in body, mind, and spirit. 

So, He turned around in the crowd and said, “Who touched my garments?” (Mark 5:30)

He asked the question for the same reason He asked Adam where he was in Eden. 

Christ knew exactly where Adam was, so He also knew all about this woman who touched Him. 

In Eden, the Lord asked in order to call Adam to Himself. 

In the same way, Christ asked, “Who touched my garments,” to call this woman to Himself. 

She comes forward.

And it’s then that Jesus gently and lovingly presents the Gospel to her. 

“Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” (Mark 5:34)

The woman didn’t seek out Jesus for spiritual healing, only physical relief. 

Once her body was healed, she wanted to slip away.

Nevertheless, the woman received spiritual healing because Christ spoke His powerful Word to her.

The other miracle in today’s text demonstrates this even more clearly.

Jairus’ daughter did, indeed, die. 

As a dead person, she could do nothing to help herself. 

It is Jesus who called and raised her. 

It’s easier for Christ to wake a person from death than it is for us to get someone up in the morning.

Jesus still offers His words of peace and healing today. 

We have His law and promises given through the prophets before Christ was born. 

We have His Gospel given to the Apostles.

The Apostle Paul wrote:

“. . . even when we were dead in our trespasses, [God] made us alive together with Christ . . . And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” 

Like Jairus’s daughter, we also were once dead to God because of sin.

But Christ raised us.

Jairus’ daughter didn’t make a ‘decision’ to have Jesus bring her back to life.

Just as we don’t make a decision to choose Christ.

It is all His work.

Or as our Lord once had to say to the disciples, ‘You didn’t choose me, but I chose you.’ (John 15:16)

Just as Jesus gave peace and healing to a woman who was ill and a child who had died, He wants to give peace and eternal life to you.

Christ took all our sins to the cross.

He then rose from the dead, ascended into Heaven, and will come again. 

He has earned your salvation, and gives it to you freely out of love and grace. 

Don’t be afraid.

Receive the Holy Spirit’s gift of faith.

Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved. (Acts 16:31). 

Amen.

PRAYERS OF THE CHURCH

SERVICE OF THE SACRAMENT       Page 194 

THE LORD’S PRAYER                          Page 196

THE WORDS OF OUR LORD             Page 197

THE DISTRIBUTION

Post Communion Collect (Right-hand column)  Page 201                                                                                                    Salutation and Benedicamus  Page 201-202                                                                                                               Benediction   Page 202

CLOSING HYMN  818 “In Thee Is Gladness”

[wormhole2anywhere]

It's unexpected but I accidentally somehow managed to unintentionally catch this when it published ajfbsnf

My things for this session are a long list so bear with it as we navigate through it all-

Certainly an unexpected passenger has come on board! Team Galactic's leader Cyrus has somehow boarded the battle subway?! It seems that this strangely colored Giratina with ... Is that subway boss Emmet? is keeping a close eye on some passengers inside of this train...

Oh no! VD!Emmet/Special Costume (Klinklang) Emmet's plush has fallen down! He doesn't seem too happy about it either, or maybe he's just very engrossed about the floor... Wonder what could have caused it to fall

Joining the Zoroark party is a definitely not foreign Zoroark by the name of Ray, pondering if he should really chime into the party itself or if he should just stay watching, as he tends to do...

And happy birthday Chemmet! VD!chemmet and Chatan have come to the party as guests (bringing the color teal randomly to this vastly pink expanse) and brought a cupcake to celebrate the fact that their little peer is now one year old! A birthday full of cuteness (and nondescript flavor cupcake)

"Oh? Hm? Why am I here you ask? Why wouldn't I be in this gathering, mortal? Did you perhaps want my blessing?"

It would seem that the starling of creativity has decided to drop by for no particular reason other than having otherworldly fun! Sporting perhaps a strange growth of hair compared to the last time he crossed into this realm (though that is a debatable topic), Ray welcomes any and all that try to strike a conversation with him for the sake of entertainment, after all, they have knowledge to share with the world

This time, he seems particularly to appreciate the presence of small chemmet to the side (thank you BK for the precious chemmets) for the time being

And of course, he also has an appreciation for the masculine beauty of... Ingöörija, the most cha cha cha man of the Pokémon world, since why shouldn't a starling appreciate a good work of art (yes Ray is speaking to thee Junya-sama, you know who you are and what you have done~)

Speaking of manly beauty here comes the lord of hell himself packing the sheer beauty of few others even among his kin, the monthly Satans, this time modeled after a specific quote that sone may understand the origin of, some may not, but to me it's funny all the same

This one goes specifically to the fellow Satan appreciator who is responsible for this quote (you know who you are) though any Satan enjoyers are free to bask in his glory, he's definitely one of my prettiest... Nay, the prettiest of them all for now

Upon seeing the pastel table and minty owner's (credits to the creators of whatever the hells the combo is supposed to be) I decided to make a little small present for the minty subway boss enjoying the presence of the table, hence my first crack at sketchless and lineless art and rendering with magma's convenient brush update, featuring cupcake that even chemmet seems excited to try out!

Yes, yes, I promise we're almost done...

Initial D featuring butlermas, Emmet is about to drift harder than the Origin Palkia/Dialga theme ever has (is this how Ingo got sent to Hisui?) And it doesn't seem like Ingo is fond of the lack of safe driving his brother seems to be doing... What kind of thrill must Emmet expect from racing with that car?

"Please stop with the embarrassing names!"|"Please stop calling me a lamb!"

"My name is Crick, and you would do well remembering it!"

So spoke a brave sanctum knight with a pure heart that had the misfortune (?) of meeting a particularly teasing Inquisitor, Crick Wellsley makes a(n) (re?) appearance in free doodle magma as some mild expression and position practice as well as for the sake of riding a creative high I had this session (what was I on)

"The truth... lies in the Flame."

Accidental fire effect practice (?) with the Inquisitor Temenos Mistral, also dragged along to the expression practice, completing the two piece enactment of two of my favourite Octopath Traveler II quotes

Lastly, but not leastly! Wilhelm Von Clausewitz Halcyon HISUIMARU in person, staring up at the stars above with what seems to be the knowledge that good things await them in the future... Right?

That's all I had to showcase for the magma! Uh... Yes I drew a lot, thank you for sticking around, if you did!

November Magma "1st Anniversary" results!!

Main event: Anniversary Party!

It's already been a year since I started running these monthly events, would you believe that!! For this special occassion we invited Pokémon characters for a big party in the Battle Subway, and it turned out fantastic!! Check it out!!

There are many cool references to our previous Magma events in these scenes! Can you spot them all? Two of the amazing backgrounds (the train entrance) contributed by @beastkonohaworld and the plushie showcase is by @fishmanfishman3 (on Twitter)! The other half of the event is under the cut!

Mini-event: Zoroark Party!

This lovely forest party venue was made by @wafflecat2!

Mini-event: Chemmet's 1st Birthday Party!

This cute little guy @beastkonohaworld created has appeared in every single doodle session since the very beginning and has been bringing cheer and love for numerous artists and their works!! Likes and comments are always very much appreciated, but it's really something else when someone actually interacts with your art! Chemmet has given so much for us, so now it's his turn to receive all the love!

And finally: November free doodle session results!

So much wonderful art here!! Some folks did something really cool and redrew their earliest Magma pieces here!! To see the improvement so concretely is very exciting and rewarding to see, you've all worked really hard on your art throughout the year!!

I am proud of these results, I'm proud of your hard work, and I'm proud to have been your monthly event host for 13 months straight! It has been quite the personal challenge but it has also been a great pleasure: seeing you all draw, connect, have fun and create amazing things together has very much been worth the effort!! Once again:

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR JOINING MY MAGMA EVENTS!!! I hope to see you all in our next event on December 25-30th!