#i'm also being fast and loose with “sin”

[idylls-of-the-divine-romance]

What is sin?

darkness

death

a croucher

a plague

a debt

slavery

a tyrant/slave-master

a parasite

the sub-real

[satinestales]

❝what was rule number #2 again❞ I.| bucky barnes x reader

pairing: tfatws bucky x reader summary: messing around in banner's lab, the night before your mission wasn't as good an idea as you thought, and you begin to question your actions the moment you step out of it. things worsen when you realize the super soldier serum isn't immune to an unknown contagious disease. warnings: sex pollen, no warnings this part, the II one? hahaha

a/n: I may have insulted the reader a few times in the beginning, so I apologize for that. but let's be honest, we'd do the same. I decided to split this fic into two parts because if I wrote it all into one part, it'd have 10k words. I'm not an english native speaker, so forgive me my sins and bad grammar if you find something.

m.list

You weren't stupid. But you also weren't exactly smart. If you were, you would've minded your own business, stayed in the gym, and went through the plan for tomorrow's mission. Maybe even go to bed a little sooner, to be ready for the next day's alarm. But Banner was away for a business trip, and seeing his lab silent and alone didn't exactly sing you lullabies to sleep. That's why you found yourself standing in the heart of it at 3 a.m., in your pajamas, praying everyone was asleep. It was well known around the compound that Banner's and Stark's labs were a faraway island, and anybody with a brain would circle around them. But you were an excellent swimmer and sharks didn't scare you.

10 hours later, you realised why Banner turned green every time someone even glared the glass door of his science play room. You were a fast swimmer but not exactly a bright one. The only bright thing related to you was that you were easily struck by it. And the glowing pink flowers in Doc's terrarium took you down faster than the sharks. It was bright pink with purple shadows. It reminded you of passionflower, but it was bigger. Way bigger, and you weren't sure if you were hallucinating, but the feeling of the flower's filaments moving was too strong. They were moving in waves, then circles, then each moved in its own way. It was mesmerising.

It was too late before you realized you moved the flower out of its enclosure to get a closer look at it. The smell hit you hard, filling your brain with colorful fog. You smelled a dash of cinnamon, mixed with ginger and lavender. You couldn't miss the powerful vanilla and pumpkin filling up the room. You didn't realize how bad the consequences of smelling Doc's flower would be until you came undone under your fingers nearly seven times. And it still wasn't enough. The scheduled time of your and Barnes' meeting was quickly approaching, and your skin didn't feel less on fire than it did two hours ago.

You managed to get out of the sweaty mattress and put some clothes on you, loose ones, hoping that your skin could breathe a little. You prayed some air would cool you down, clear your head, and slap some sense into you. It was now obvious why Banner was so determined not to let anyone close his lab. He was experimenting with aphrodisiacs, and you, unwillingly, became one of his lab rats. Thoughts didn't stop multiplying in your head until one landed steadily on its feet. Tony has been visiting Doc's labs the last few weeks, five minutes on the dot after curfew. You knew because you were always stationed on your balcony, which gave you a clear view of the other building, and its glass windows didn't hide much. It only became pitch black when Tony came in, and Banner didn't even flinch when he heard the door shut.

Chuckle left your lips when you connected the dots, ignoring how amusing you must look for Barnes, sitting right next to him.

"Something funny?" he asked, not dropping his gaze off of you. You were now on your way to the target's last seen place, being lucky enough to get a ride in Tony's self-driven car. You wanted to drown him in kisses because you can only imagine the suffering if you had to walk all the way from the compound to the other side of the city. Your skin was still on fire, your hair was sticking to your neck, and salty drops chased each other on your skin. You certainly were an amusing sight to Bucky. Or a terrifying one. You wished he got used to it by now. After all these years of fighting against each other, then with each other, and now forced to fight by each other's side, he saw you through worse conditions. But as far as he knew, you were locked in your room all week. You had no reason to look like you had an early meeting with the reaper.

"Just, thinking," you mumbled back at him, forcing yourself to keep your head rested against your seat, begging your body to not betray you for looking back at your partner. Your body fighting the chemicals in your body, you could only imagine how it would end if you stared at Barnes for more than five seconds. Worse, let alone if you touched him. You read about aphrodisiacs and scientists' failed attempts to know what you were going through. You were prepared to die before touching Barnes.

You were secretly jealous. It wasn't fair of you, but Barnes' serum running through his veins protected him from anything related. You almost abandoned your morals, but the pain you were going through justified it. You had no idea how you were going to focus on the mission, communicate with James, and, if it came to it, fight the target. You could only focus on the heat between your legs and how touch-starved you were. And your, undeniably, attractive coworker wasn't helping the case.

You and James had a complicated history. Both born in the 40s and dated for a while before he fell from the train. Years later, he comes to kill you for Howard's successful experiment on you. Immortality would definitely suit HYDRA and their planned assassinations. James, back then, the Winter Soldier, failed to capture you, so they decided your family's fate. And your friends. Then, years later, Howard's. You forgave him. All of it. Because you knew it wasn't him. But when he came back from Wakanda, with no traces of HYDRA in him, and didn't spare you a glance, you couldn't forgive him that. Seventy years of tolerating the actions HYDRA made him do, and he couldn't even look at you. It broke your heart but rather to act like a cunt than a weepy baby, begging for attention that will never come.

"Well then, do it fast. We're almost there." You hear his grumpy voice, making the butterflies in your stomach double their count. The decades-old memories of you together overwhelmed your brain like a tsunami. You couldn't swim out of that. The way his tongue circled your clit as you played with his hair at the theatre restroom. Or when he made you ride his face with Steve in the house. The way he pounded into you against the wall so you wouldn't forget him when he gets shipped out the next morning. And the way he had to cover your mouth that night at the bar, celebrating his unit's rescue. Now he was sitting millimetres away from you, and he wouldn't have done any of it. You still hoped, subconsciously, he'd dick you down like he did all those years ago. But that was a fantasy. Very vivid, real fantasy.

"Yes, sir," you let out, closing your eyes, tugging on your shirt so your fingers wouldn't accidentally slip in between your thighs. You didn't wanna make a scene. Even tho at some point, you knew you would.

You didn't catch James' hungry gaze when he heard those words slip from your mouth. At the back of his head, he reminiscent the amount of times it was him, slipping out of it.

It took you exactly 17 minutes before you got yourself out of Tony's car. You accidentally grinded yourself on his leather seats, causing you to accidentally moan, and of course, Barnes caught it. He'd never miss that sweet sound leaving your lips. At nights, he wished he'd made you sound like that, even louder. But that was ages ago, and you were over him. It was the only thing that made sense to him.

Five minutes into your romantic stroll to the target's office, the wetness in your panties got worse. You figured the more you moved, the less it hurt, but the pleasure doubled. And the Avengers training lessons didn't exactly cover how to act if you're orgasming every five seconds just because your thighs rubbed against each other.

Correction, you didn't actually cum. It was more of a frustrating edging that made you wanna rip out your hair. You were sure Barnes had already figured something was off or had at least suspected something. The suppressed moans and the tugging on your crotch weren't exactly subtle.

"Alright," he stopped walking, a few meters away from a huge building. It was surrounded by a deep forest, straight from a horror movie. "he was last seen inside. If Steve's correct, we should..." You kept nodding, not actually paying attention to what he was saying. It was the way his metal arm moved when he talked and the way his fingers curled while explaining the plan. You never got the answer to your question if he could feel through his amputated arm. He had to, you thought. You heard him groan every time someone pulled it too hard. You were embarrassed how much it roused you when you heard him whimper in pain, but it was also one of the things that circled your head when you were alone in your room.

You'd imagine, would it feel different. It would definitely be cold, rougher, you suspected faster. And with the serum running in his veins, he'd definitely last longer. That, you were one hundred percent sure, for it was Natasha's moans you heard for over two days after she and Steve finally hit it off. But Nat was also a super soldier. Bucky would probably tire you out by the 2nd round. But you were willing to risk it.

"If you're not gonna be listening to me, then you can turn around and go back." Was the first thing you heard after you forced yourself out of Bucky's hand around your throat fantasies. It probably wasn't the best idea, but seeing Bucky frustrated and annoyed by your incompetence made you feel things. And you wanted more.

"Whatever you want, Sergeant." You smirked, walking past him towards the building. His smell punched you in the face, making your walls clench around nothing. Fuck. Your self-control was harder to put in check. You were sure in a few minutes it'd be non-existent.

"Whatever is your problem today," you heard him behind you. You didn't look at him, focusing on keeping a steady pace towards the building so you could finish the job, get home where you could fuck yourself to oblivion. No one, but your fingers were currently available. And even they couldn't sometimes do the job you needed. But you knew whose would.

"I'm talking to you." Your heart dropped when his hand landed on your shoulder. Your skin got warmer again, and the pulse between your legs was impossible to ignore. You didn't know if you wanted to kill him or fuck him.

Ideally, both.

Turning around, you found the strength to twist his arm, finding out it was his human one, making it easier to push him back. He looked so taken back that it was amusing. But not amusing enough to stop the aching of your cunt.

"Touch me again," and I won't answer for the consequences. You wanted to add. But you didn't. Instead, you stared back at him, praying to god you'd drop dead or something would happen to stop the throbbing pain. You wanted to push your pants down and do something about it, but Bucky's presence wouldn't let you. It would, seventy years ago.

God, the number of times he made you rub yourself in front of him, fuck yourself while he watched. Couldn't he do it now? You'd happily obey.

"You've been acting distant ever since morning," he said, taking a step closer. "I just wanna know what's wrong," he said, lowering his voice at the end. You were sure it was just the stupid plant making you see things, but Bucky's dark eyes were hard to miss. Or the sweat on his forehead. Or the way he clenched his jaw when his eyes dropped to your lips.

Your heart sank. Holy fuck.

You couldn't help but laugh. It was, after all, comical. You looked manic but that didn't bother you. You felt so many emotions at once that you struggled to choose one.

"What the hell are you doing," you heard his voice interrupt your laugh. You were out of your mind. Your legs weak and sweaty, your cunt covered in your wetness, your head filled with migraine, skin on fire, and thoughts surrounding only one thing. And now, cherry on top, you realize Banner discovered an aphrodisiacs that make the super soldier serum its bitch. James motherfucking Barnes joined the lab rats of Banner's sex research.

[a1307s]

Artwork #2

(Garfield Logan Smut)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to Exegaytioner]

Requested by: Liviejc

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 6,063

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Sorry it took so long; it’s been a mix of the holiday and a bit of writers block

Pet Name Used (Bunny)

Biting

Slight degrading

Begging

———————————————————————

     It's been a couple of months since I walked in on Y/N painting her wall. Since then, I've been a little attached to her. We spend a lot of time together, whether that's me watching her work on different art projects, or Y/N watching her show as I game, or just sitting in each other's presence.

     Over this time, I've learned a bit about her, but not as much as I'd like. She's a 'freak accident', like I am; like most of the team is. Other than that, I don't know anything about her, but it seems there's not much to know. I will say that kind of explains her hatred for her shifting color schemes.

     The most recent activity we do together has been napping. Y/N always gets excited about her afternoon nap. She has issues sleeping alone which means her napping makes up most of her daily sleep. She used to nap with Nightwing but most days he'd be too busy for it, so she'd miss out. Y/N did end up asking me to nap with her instead. I answered yes, a little quicker than I meant.

     I won't admit it to anyone, but I've started growing feelings for her, which have only gotten worse over time. We used to just nap. Well, Y/N would nap, and I would lay next to her. Then we started making out before she'd nap. Now we make out before and after she naps.

     I enjoy it. I like her rubbing up on me and kissing me. I like the dark crimson color that coats her lips after we kiss. I like her. All that doesn't help my denial.

     Y/N on the other hand, I have no clue how she feels about it. You would figure with the whole 'hue of her skin matches her emotions' it would be easy to tell how Y/N feels. Well, when you don't know what the different colors and hues mean, it doesn't!

     It also doesn't help that the only thing I ever see her in is that dumb white cloak of hers. Given, her hood is never up anymore - unless we're on a mission. She's more loose about letting her arms show too, but with how big the sleeves are they tend to cover her more than they don't.

     When Y/N naps, she's usually curled up, so her ankles end up showing. Sometimes her cloak parts and shows a bit of her thighs. It makes me feel like a Victorian boy. 'Oh, her ankles! How sinful of me to look at such things!'

     I have asked Y/N a few times about our kisses. How she feels about them and such. Usually, she ignores me. The few times she has answered haven't been very nice. Her answer is usually something like 'You tolerate my naps, so I tolerate your kisses'. I don't want her to tolerate our makeouts. I want her to want them. I want her to want me.

     I have talked about our situation with Nightwing, and he usually helps. How he's explained it is that Y/N struggles with expressing emotions. Weird to think about since her powers are linked to her emotions, but not knowing much about her leaves a lot of room for speculation. However, seeing how she lives at the mountain like a lot of us, assumptions are easy to place.

     Like every afternoon, Y/N is curled up against me, fast asleep. Her back is pressed up against my side and her head is resting on my arm. My other arm is thrown across the bed, forgotten. Y/N won't sleep if she's not touching me in some way, but at the same time, she doesn't like being touched a lot. It makes for a weird balance. Too much touching and she can't stay asleep, too little touching and she also can't stay asleep.

     She's cute when she sleeps, and not angry which is always a plus. She gets angry pretty quickly, but I'm not that surprised. Y/N just happens to have the same hair-trigger temper that Conner does.

     The thought of glancing under her cloak flickers through my head. That would be perverted and wrong... but, she is sleeping in my bed so it couldn't be too bad... right? No. Nope. That's wrong.

     I shift away from her, putting a bit of space between the two of us as I shake the thoughts out of my head. If I want to see her coloring that bad, I can just ask. The worst she can say is no, right? Or... it could put us back to square one again. Put us back to barely talking and her walls shooting back up.

     Y/N whimpers a bit, turning over so her head is on my shoulder now, her arms - exposed - resting on my chest, and her front pressed up against me. I watch as her skin shifts from milky white to a soft pink. The color blotches over her arms and the exposed part of her chest that comes in contact with me.

     I'm not too surprised by this. Usually when Y/N wakes up the side of her face is this soft bubble gum pink color from where she was pressed into my arm. Even at this moment, her cheek is decorated in the coloring, though it's starting to fade back to white now that she has switched sides. I enjoy watching her colors shift, it's relaxing.

     Some of Y/N's coloring is obvious. The dark red, almost black means she's mad and is usually paired with matching tight curls. When her hair is short, fuzzy - and usually grey - it means she didn't sleep too well, which also means Y/N will have an even shorter temper than usual. Yellow - the bright one, not the washed-out one; I don't know what the washed-out coloring is yet - means she's happy. How bright it is shows how happy she is. Other than that, the rest of the coloring is still a mystery.

     I stay like this, watching the pink spotting get darker the longer she lays against me. I wonder what the pink means. To me, pink is the color of love. Maybe she does like me and just doesn't know it. However, I have seen her turn pink while working on her art and while reading and such. Those things can't exactly bring feelings of love... I don't think.

     Maybe I should get a feelings chart. That might help my situation. Especially since I'm not sure if every feeling has a different color or if it's more of an umbrella thing. I'm pretty sure it's an umbrella thing... maybe.

     Y/N shifts, pulling my attention back to her. Her head picks up, eyes open this time. They're milky white, like the rest of her, for a second. Soon they shift to her bright yellow with flickers of pink through them. God, what does the pink mean?

     "Good morning, Garfield," she says, dipping her head back to my shoulder as she shifts herself on top of me. I tense a bit as Y/N slides into my lap, her legs bent at my sides, her arms draping themselves over my shoulders and her chest pressed into mine. She sits like this all the time, after every nap, in the middle of every day. It shouldn't be any different today, but it does feel different. It's probably because I was deep-diving into my thoughts today.

     "How'd you sleep?" I ask, placing my hands on her thighs. What color are my handprints under her cloak? Are they pink? Yellow? Are her inner thighs littered with blotches from where they press into me? I want to know so bad. Y/N just hums in response, shifting her head onto my neck instead of my shoulder.

     Once again, she falls still, her soft breathing coating my neck and making my nerves spark. I think I just need something new for us. Something more than just our makeouts. Something to let me know Y/N enjoys this instead of seeing it as a chore.

     I slide my hands around some, my fingers curling around the edges of her cloak that has parted a bit from her position. My eyes stay locked on the ceiling as I tip my fingertips over the hem, barely coming in contact with her bare skin. It's silent for a beat, the warmth of her skin sliding up my fingers, but the silence doesn't stay long. "Don't do that," Y/N says, her fingers sliding down and wrapping around mine to pull my hand away. She lays it back in its usual spot, gently placed on top of her thigh, over her cloak.

     So much for something new, something to prove that she enjoys whatever the hell this is. Y/N's head tilts back up, her eyes now their ashy grey. Besides the angry red color, grey is the most used color on Y/N. Her eyes, skin, and hair, are all grey when we go on a mission. Unlike her sleepiness, when we're on a mission her hair is pin-straight and long. I don't know what the grey means. Maybe focus. What is she focusing on right now? Is focus even an emotion? I don't think so.

     Her head tilts some, eyes slowly melting back to the yellow and pink from before, her hair doing the same. I'll take that as a good sign. Happiness is always good, even if I don't know what it's paired with. Y/N's fingers are soft and airy as they slide up my neck, stroking my cheeks as she cups my face. She bends down, her lips sliding over my skin for a second before finding a new place to butterfly a kiss too. Maybe she does enjoy our kisses, why else would she be so gentle? So soft? Her lips trail over my face, leaving their warmth across my nose, my eyes, my forehead, my jaw, anywhere she can reach.

     My hands slide backward, jumping over her butt to slide around her back. I feel so loved, and so cared for when Y/N starts our kisses like this. If she doesn't feel anything for me, how could she make me feel this way? How could she push so much love out in these little touches if she doesn't care about me too?

     "Y/N?" I ask, my words coming out softer than I meant them to.

     "Garfield?" She whispers back, her lips sliding against the corner of my mouth, making my heart rate rise and blood rush down my body. It's annoying. This is annoying. I hate feeling so in love, so needy for her, just for nothing to ever happen outside of the few minutes before and after she sleeps. Outside of this, Y/N rarely lets me touch her, and the one time I tried to kiss her, I got a broken nose and a week of her being skittish. No naps during that week too which meant no kisses either.

     I gently slide my hands up Y/N's body, sliding them up her shoulder and cupping her face. I tilt her back, so her eyes are focused on me instead of her kisses. She looks so pretty, her back arched, her cloak opened some, showing me the top of her chest, the soft blue of her bra poking out a bit. This isn't helping my rushing blood or my thoughts. I can't touch her thighs, but I can see down her top? She's half awake, I doubt she knows this is what she looks like.

     I rub my fingers across her cheeks like Y/N has been doing to me. Soft streaks of pink are littered across her face, from where she's rubbed up against me. The paths of my thumbs are darker pink from the constant contact. Why do my fingers leave a pink spot, but her lips are red when we kiss? If I kiss other parts of her, will those turn pink? Or red?

     "Do you like our kisses?" I ask, trying to focus on her eyes but instead, my eyes keep dropping down her top and rising back up to her lips.

     Y/N shifts, her back going straight as she sits up, and her knees tightening around my sides. I'm a bit disappointed at the shift, the beautiful scene is gone now, but I can't complain much. The added pressure to my groin feels nice, teasing even. She shifts more, pressing into the half-hard situation in my pants for a second, her eyes wandering around the room. This is getting heated quicker than usual. All the build-up from the last few weeks looming over us, threatening to snap if Y/N keeps rubbing up on me like this. I place my hands on her hips, keeping her in place. Maybe not the best placement, but her being still is better than her adding friction.

     "I don't mind them," she answers, wiggling out of my hold and lying back down next to me.

     That pisses me off. Y/N is not dumb, she's a very smart girl, so she has to know touching me like this has some kind of effect. She has to know normal people don't nap and have heated make-out sessions with their friends. And what does she mean? She 'doesn't mind them'? What the hell Y/N?

     I look over at her, watching the pink on her skin fade back to white. Watching it helps me calm down a bit. It always relaxes me when I get to watch her shift. "Y/N?" I call again at a normal tone this time, as I slide my hand back to its place on her thigh. I massage it softly, debating if I should try to dip it down again.

     "Garfield?" Y/N answers again, her head turning towards me. Her eyes are starting to shift to red, the same crimson red her lips usually are by now. Is she mad at me for touching her? She sounds pretty calm compared to how she usually is when she's mad. Maybe she isn't mad.

     "Do you not like me kissing you?" I ask, giving into my want and dipping my fingertips down, toying with Y/N's inner thighs.

     "I don't... not like it," she answers, turning her head away from me. I watch, waiting for a reaction, but I don't get one.

     "So... you do like them?" I push, sliding closer to her. I'm leaning over Y/N's face, hovering barely over her, and slide my fingers down slightly lower, the hem of her cloak coming into contact with my fingers again.

     Y/N's eyes are wide, mostly grey with flickers of red throughout them, her skin doing the same. Her body is a bit stiff, and her chest jumps faster than normal. Is she nervous or scared? Maybe both? "Umm... I guess so," she answers, her legs closing and squeezing my hand between them.

     She guesses so? She doesn't know? The anger from earlier bubbles up again. I want Y/N to know she wants me, I want her to be as needy for me as I am for her, I want her to voice her thoughts and feelings about me.

     "Y/N?" My voice rings out, my fingers curling around her cloak again. I just need something, anything from her to let me know she feels somewhat good about this, about our kisses, about whatever relationship we have. I move her cloak, moving the fabric up her legs so her inner thighs are exposed to me.

     "Garfield," she breathes out, her skin and eyes redder than grey as I slide over her warm skin, her cloak now covering both my hand and her thigh. Her skin is smooth, soft, and hopefully colorful. I like Y/N's voice like this, I want to hear her say my name like that again.

     My name ringing in my ears makes my pants tighter, the half-hard-on is now a full-blown-hard-on. "I want to see your coloring," I tell her, gently parting her legs some so I can move my hand easier. The small circles I've been pushing into her skin have left a red ring on her skin. Is that good or bad? Is Y/N enjoying this or not?

     "You... what?" She asks, her voice still light, her head tilted down some so our eyes are connected. Y/N's eyes are fully red now, and her mouth is slightly parted. Is she horny? Is that what's happening? I mean, she looks horny. Picked up breathing, wide eyes, parted lips.

     My head falls to the side as I lean down, connecting our lips as my eyes snap shut. Y/N's lips feel soft and plump against my own. She tastes like honey, a leftover flavor from her tea this morning. It's not long before her mouth falls open, giving me access before I even have the chance to ask for it.

     I let my hand continue to squeeze the flesh of her thigh, bringing my other one up to do the same thing. My tongue slides over Y/N's, the feeling only causing more of my nerves to go haywire. Her hands are stiff but gentle as they cling to my biceps, her fingers shaking against my skin.

     "Why are you so nervous?" I ask once we pull apart, Y/N panting some under me. "I just want to see your coloring," I add, slowly pulling her legs further apart, her cloak falling open and pooling at her hips. Crimson red colors are littered across her skin, dark purples swirling with the color from where my fingers have crossed over her skin, the rest of her still grey. Matching soft blue panties stand out against her ashy color of her. Little Miss Matching, how cute.

     "I'm... I just..." Y/N stumbles, her panting slowed some but still present. I inch my fingers up, letting a finger on each side slide across the bands of her underwear clinging to her legs. This gets me a shift of her legs, but they fall back into place, wide open for me to admire.

     "You have to use your words. I'm tired of trying to read your mind," I murmur, scooting down the bed so I can dip my head between her legs. Y/N's hands slide up to my shoulders from my movement and soon knot themselves into the hair on my neck. Once again, her legs fall close, tapping against me before falling open again. "Why are you nervous?" I whisper against her skin, sliding my lips over her inner thigh. Like my fingerprints, an outline of my lips forms a dark red with blotches of purple through it. I continue pressing kisses into her left thigh, leaving new outlines in my wake.

     "I... you're.... you're touching me," Y/N answers, her legs tapping against the side of my face again. It's cute, how nervous she is about me seeing her like this, how her legs fall open when she's reminded of my placement.

     "So? I touch you all the time," I comment, switching to her right thigh. I let my eyes flicker up, taking in Y/N as I leave a long lick from mid-thigh to the dip of her hip meeting her legs. A hissed breath comes from her, a red streak forming as I watch. Y/N's back is arched the slightest, her knees repeatedly bumping into me before falling open again, her body shaking a bit, hands buried into my head. I think this is prettier than the scene I got to see earlier.

     I pull back from her, kneeling in front of her bent legs so only my hands are in contact with her now. This lets her knees bump into each other when they go too close again. Y/N whimpers at this, her fingers sliding down to my face as I sit up. "Aww, is someone whiney?" I tease, inching my hands up her stomach, letting them slide under her clothing. "Why are you whiney? What do you want Bunny?"

     "I... I don't... I don't know," Y/N stumbles out, her body scooting down to move my hands up further. Her hands have moved back down to my shoulders, her nails digging into them. Her eyes are blown out, dark purple with spots of red, and watery as she looks at me. I've barely even touched her, and she's already overwhelmed. Y/N is going to need a long cool down after this.

     I mess with the bend of her bra, snapping it against her, running my fingers under it, inching up just a bit before dropping them back down. My eyes jump around her, her skin turning the same purple as her eyes, washing away all the grey. The previous prints on her thighs are now crimson red instead of their previous purple, making them stand out against the cooler color. "I think you do know," I answer back, completely pulling my hands down and planting them on her hips.

     Y/N whines again, thrusting her body down to attempt to move my hands further up her body. It doesn't work though; I keep them firmly in place as her legs bump into mine from her movement. "Please?" She whimpers, an involuntary pout forming on her face.

     "Please what? What do you want Bunny?" I repeat as the idea of Y/N dressed up in bunny ears and a puffy bunny tail serves as a nice reminder of my hard penis, which pulses at the thought. I just need to hold on a little longer, long enough to get Y/N to beg, long enough to get her prepped, and then I can have my pleasure. "If you don't tell me what you want, I'll leave you here to deal with this all by yourself," I threaten, rubbing soft circles into her hip bones to try and encourage her words out.

     "Touch me, please?" She begs, the words coming out desperate as her legs fall open again, filling my eyes with the sight of her panties. They're slightly wet now, a small spot forming as her juices seep out of her, only encouraging my actions more. She likes the teasing, she likes me forcing her words out, it's turning her on. Is that what the crimson red is? Or maybe that's what the purple is.

     "Touch you where, Bun? Here?" I tease, ghosting my fingers over the little mess Y/N is already forming. Her legs jerk from the touch, bumping into my arm before falling back into place. "Or here?" I ask, pressing soft circles into her clothes clit. Bump, bump, bump. Y/N's legs jerk again with every circle I push into her nerve bundle, squeezing my arm each time she comes into contact with it.

     "Garfield," she breathes out as she did earlier, another pulse from my dick and my breath hiccupping from it. I don't like how easily she cracks my swallow confidence. I am not a dominating partner by any means, but Y/N is even less a dominating person in bed so if I don't hold on to this tiny shaving of confidence, we'll be back to me panning over her with no retaliation.

     "Take it off," I bark out a lot meaner than I meant to. I clench her cloak in my hands, tugging it softly. "Please, Bun," I add, softening my tone in hopes of not scaring her off. I can't scare Y/N, I can't get this close to having her just to shove her back into her shell from being too rough, too mean.

     Slowly, Y/N's hands fall from my shoulders to the cute little white bow that keeps the cloth tightened to her body. Her fingers are shaking like crazy as she works on undoing it. Her eyes are still watery and so fucking hot as I look at her. I want to see her crying under me, I want to see her whole shaking because of me.

     "You're doing so good," I tell her once the bow is undone and her clothing falls to the side, exposing the skin of her torso, of her chest. Streaks of a mixed grey and red outline where my hands previously rubbed against. "So, so good, Bunny," I whisper against the skin of her neck, pushing soft kisses into it as I work on tugging her clothes the rest of the way off.

     Y/N curls around me as I'm bent over her. Her hands wrap around my shoulders, pushing our chests together, her legs wrapped around my hips and crossed on my back. Soft whimpers fill my ear as I push more sloppy kisses into her, now trailing them down her shoulders. It's so pretty, seeing the smooth white sliding off of Y/N, watching it pool behind her as small groups of colors form under my touches.

     I bite down gently into her shoulder, getting a soft cry of pain, and nails dig back into my shoulders, but I don't mind. I need to leave behind some marking, some proof of ownership, something to show that Y/N is mine for everyone to see, even if I know my eyes will be the only ones to ever see it. "Garfield, that hurts," Y/N whines, tugging on me gently to try and remove me from her.

     "I'm sorry," I murmur, littering kisses across her jaw before placing a soft one against her lips. Her tears have spilled over slightly, her cheeks damp as I pull back and look at her. "I want to be inside you so bad. Do you want me inside you?" I ask her, rubbing my thumb across her bottom lip as I look over her face. I do want to be in her, I want to be in her so badly, but I know she's overwhelmed. Y/N is shaking against me, and her tears aren't just from the bite mark, so I need to make sure she's okay with this, that she's not going to hate me if we do have sex, that she'll be okay after we have sex.

     Y/N's head nods a short yes, but that's not enough for me. I need to hear her yes; I need to hear that she wants me. I press another soft kiss to her lips, dropping my hands back down to the band of her bra. "I need you to use your words, Bun."

     "Please?" She whimpers, sliding herself against me. The sudden friction of her pussy against my ignored penis pulls a low moan out of me, getting me another soft hump and another whine from Y/N.

     "Please what?" I push, hooking my hands to her hips. I use this leverage to shove Y/N down hard onto me, to pick up the pace of her soaked panties rubbing against the front of my pants. I continue this, using my hand placement to hump myself as whimpers and whines spill from her, but not an answer. "I swear to God Y/N. Tell me what you want, or I'll jack myself off onto your pretty titties and leave you here whining like a desperate little Bunny that can't get herself off."

     Worry flickers through my head for a second but is quickly squashed when a moan tumbles out of Y/N's lips. "Please... I want you. Please? Pretty please Gar?" 

     That's enough confirmation for me to continue moving forward. I drop my hold on her long enough to shove my pants down and pull myself out. It's a struggle, getting myself out of my pants and boxers. Random body parts from the both of us bump together as I wiggle out of my clothes.

     Once I'm freed, I slide back between Y/N's legs, the head of my penis gently tapping against the soaked spot of her underwear. Her hands are back in place, tugging on my shirt that's covering my shoulders. "Needy, needy Bunny," I tease softly, leaning down to kiss Y/N's cheek before pulling my shirt off. 

     "Please?" She begs again, grinding her hips down against me. 

     I grab at her, having a tight hold on her hips again to stop her. "Don't do that," I warn, lifting her hips off mine. There's too much tension and if she keeps pushing, I'm not going to last long enough to fuck her. "I want to play with you first," I add, sliding my fingers down and letting them snag on her underwear.

     As I start pulling them down, Y/N grabs my wrist, pulling my attention to her face. Her skin is tinted in grey, only adding to the pretty mixes of red and purple. "Just... be gentle," she says, worry flooding her eyes and washing all the color out of it. Grey is fear. When Y/N is grey, she's feeling fearful.

     "I'll be gentle," I tell her, leaning up and placing a few soft kisses across her face before landing one on her lips. I continue this, littering her face in kisses, as I pull her panties off her legs. Grey is still present in Y/N's eyes, but the purple and red have started spilling back in. "You're so pretty," I whisper, moving forward so our hips are connected again. 

     Y/N's legs are back at my sides, squeezing me as my fingers dance around her folds, touching her but not touching where I know she aches. Her nails are sharp and a bit painful as they dig and release themselves from the skin of my shoulders. She is pretty, really pretty. Big watery doe eyes, body covered in explosions of colors, small noises spilling out as I tease, her clinging to me like she'll fall apart if she doesn't. I would be thrilled to spend the rest of my life looking at her like this.

     I slide my lips over hers, a distraction, something to calm her as I dip a finger into her. Y/N's fingers jolt again, digging into me as I pump my finger, helping her stretch out. "You're doing so good, Bunny," I whisper into her ear, dipping another finger in before curling inside her. I let my focus shift down, gazing at the sight of me disappearing into her.

     "Garfield," Y/N moans, pulling herself tighter against me.

     "Bunny," I tease, continuing to pump and curl against the walls of her pussy. Her body responds to the stimulation, tightening around me, her chest pumping to get more air into her lungs, and noises and whines for me spilling out. "You're doing really good," I repeat, pressing kisses anywhere I can reach. I debate whether to continue until she finishes or not. I don't want her to be overwhelmed, I don't want Y/N to stop enjoying this.

     I decide not to let her finish, not quite yet. I start pulling my fingers out, getting a distorted reaction from Y/N. "No! No, no, no," she whines, her hands sliding down my arms to try and stop me. 

     I turn my focus back to her face, taking in how beautiful she looks. Y/N's eyes are still doe-like, not a thought behind them besides me. Tears have spilled over again, making her cheeks all dewy and almost sparkly from the lights above us. Her chest has slowed down a bit, but it still looks full, pretty, soft. "God, you are pretty. You are beautiful, Y/N. You are gorgeous," I tell her, shifting myself around again.

     Heat rolls off of Y/N as I line myself up to her, tapping the head of my penis against her again, but with nothing in the way this time I'm able to poke just barely inside her. I tug her hands off my shoulders, lacing our fingers together as I gently press her hands against the bed. I want her to know she's able to let go, to call this off, to push me away if she needs to. "Y/N?" My voice rings out, a difference from the whimpers and whines that have been filling my ears.

     "Ya?" She answers, slinging her legs around me and attempting to pull me further into her.

     I give into her want, moving slowly, feeling just an inch of me sliding inside. "Are you sure you want this? We can stop," I tell her, hoping my own noises stay stuck in my throat.

     "Please? Pretty please? I want - I need more. Please Gar?" Y/N begs again, her fingers and legs tightening around me, trying to get more of me inside her.

     How can I say no to that? I pretty girl underneath me, begging me to fuck her. What sane person says no to that? Not me. I give again, letting the rest of me sink inside of her. Y/N is warm wrapped around me. Warm and loving. Perfect. 

     "You are so pretty. You are smart. You're gorgeous. You're so sweet. You are perfect. You know that? You are perfect, Bunny," I tell her, spilling out a new compliment after every thrust. A broken thank you falls from Y/N's lips after every one of my compliments, a moan or my name breaking up her words.

     This is perfect. She is perfect. Y/N likes me back, likes me enough to fuck her. Likes me enough to beg for me, to need me. My hands tighten around hers as I continue to thrust into her as I dip my head down. I clamp my teeth on her shoulder a couple more times, making sure to be gentle as I do so. Little whimpers fall from her at this action which only makes my thrusts sloppier.  

     The sloppier my thrusts get, the more upset I get. I don't want this to end, and I really don't want it to end this soon. I knew I wasn't going to last long from the start, all the teasing today and during the whole week made sure of that. "Bunny," I murmur, sliding my tongue over Y/N's neck before I continue. "I'm not going to last much longer."

     "No, you have to keep going. Please?" She whines from under me, her hold on me as she complains.

     "I can't, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Bun," I mutter against her skin, covering her raw skin in kisses. She squirms from my lips brushing against the forming bite marks. It's cute, but doesn't help my rushing high that's closing in. "We'll go again, I promise, I just... I can't," I add on, sliding more kisses over her markings, making her squirm around more.

     Another whine comes but is chased by Y/N pressing her own kisses into me. She leaves kisses wherever she can reach, my arms, my chest, my shoulders, everywhere.

     "Fuck," I mutter, sliding out of her as the band in my stomach slightly tighter than I want. As I pull out, my cum spills out onto Y/N's thighs. It leaves a pretty scene for me to enjoy. My cum covering her thighs in a pretty white, it stands out against the dark purple of her skin and the crimson red from where I was placed between them.

     Damn, all of her looks pretty, looks hot. Once again Y/N's chest is heaven for breath, a slight dew of sweat coating her body. Her skin is a pretty mix of reds and purples, every place I've touched her being empathized by the red and the rest of her being that pretty purple color. The bite marks I left littered across her shoulders - all five of them - a softer red, and slightly bruising. 

     "I'm sorry," I repeat, letting myself slump on top of her. Our hands are still intertwined as I let my body weight crush her a bit, my head buried into her neck. My dick is sensitive, but I push myself back into Y/N anyway, putting her whimpers of dissatisfaction on a slower setting. "I promise we'll go in again in a few minutes, okay?"

     "Okay," Y/N responds, her breathing slowing a bit. Her fingers slide gently against mine, helping me calm down from my high.

     I let my eyes focus on the coloring of her neck, the colors slowly dulling down before settling back to her peaceful white color. The soft pink returns again in all the places I'm touching her. I change my mind; this is the scene I'd be happy to watch for the rest of my life. Her skin shifting colors, me tangled up against her warm skin, Y/N's soft touches against me as I relax. God, I love watching Y/N's coloring, and I can't wait to make the colors shift again.

———————————————————————

[plethora-of-imagines]

Cardinal Copia's Costume Curator

AN: This is in tribute to the wonderful beloved @how-masterful for her birthday! (Who introduced me to the band's lore which made me finally listen to the songs, and well..... I'm now very obsessed)

It's the first thing I have written an a long while... oops! But I got into a very competitive health program so I am very busy actively fighting the gods to survive being back in school.

Which means this is only loosely edited, and probably very out of character but I had fun writing it! (In the dreams of my head where I actually do have time this would have been a slow burn multi chapter, but I've never managed to do one of those soooo oneshot it is)

I hope you had the best of days beloved and enjoy your (our) blorbo story

Word Count: 4402

Ao3 Link: Here

Warning: smut/lemon, nudity, blowjob, semi public sexual contact

Description: A collection of moments between the new costumer for the tour and her Cardinal.

Knocking on the door of the dressing room she spared a quick glance back at the ghoulette who had helped guide her. A cute little thumbs up and a smile of an alarming amount of teeth greeted her. She tried to push past her general anxiousness to recognize it for the reassurance it was.

“Ah, hi, hello,” the uncertain greeting from the Cardinal as he opened the door made her turn back to face him so fast she feared she gave herself whiplash.

“Hello Cardinal,” she began in a hurry, sheepishly introducing herself. “I’m umm- your new costume curator?”

“Oh, yes, yes,” he gestured for her to enter the room. Charmingly grabbing her hand to kiss before awkwardly trying to rub off the black stain his Cardinal paints left on her bare skin. Smudging it just enough to make the single lip stain scarcely recognizable. “Sister told me you were joining our little touring family. But uh she did not say why. So good to know that you will be helping with costumes in some way then.”

“She figured you needed me after the video about the belt got back to her.”

He seemed to deflate into the uncomfortable leather chair that came with this touring spot’s dressing room.

“That uh got back to her and all the siblings then, si?”

“Yes Cardinal.”

“Good, great.”

It certainly did not sound like he found it good at all. The silence made her nervous so she rushed to fill it with an explanation that it seemed Sister Imperator had failed to give him.

“She actually seemed to think you handled Sister Maria’s mistake well? Or at least she was more upset with learning from the Siblings here that Sister Maria was more focused on indulging in sin instead of her job?”

“Sister who?”

“Sister Maria?” Did she remember her predecessor’s name incorrectly? “The previous sibling in charge of your and the ghouls’ costumes?”

Rubbing the back of his head, making a mess of his already ruffled hair he admitted something that would have had Sister Imperator flaying your predecessor alive.

“I ,uh, did not know we had someone in charge of costumes. Me and my ghoulies have been taking care of them ourselves.”

“Yourselves,” she screeched. Rushing to explain herself, “not that they seem to be in poor condition, they looked decently taken care of if not a little disorganized. But uh none of you were taught how to take care of these beyond the basics! Who has been checking for any issues with seams? Or keeping track of the spare costume pieces?”

“Eh heh,” gently scratching at his face as he spoke up. “I did use a bit of the Google when the tour started to figure out how to spot clean them after a little incident with the ghouls.”

It was endearing how proud he was of himself, even she couldn’t bring herself to be upset about the possible damage to the garments. She had already looked them over and on the surface they were fine enough. There was even more work to be done than she feared with her initial evaluation of them.

“But it will be a welcome change to have you taking good care of our uniforms, Sister.” He sheepishly looked into her eyes. “Would it also be possible to have you assist backstage with my quick changes. I’ve always made it but it has been cut rather close before...”

“I almost don’t feel bad for Sister Maria when Sister Imperator gets her hands on her. Almost,” she joked before working to reassure him that she would be dutiful in her job. It was an honor to be allowed to join the tour when not a long term or high level Sibling.  She was eager to prove her worth. “Cardinal, you should have had someone assisting you this whole time, it's part of the job! I know we encourage sin but I think Sister Maria was too indulgent with practicing sloth when it came to her job.”

“Si, if I had known who she was and that she was supposed to be doing all these things I would have had a conversation with her before something made its way back to Sister.”

Clapping, he stood up, lending her a hand to guide her up from her seat.

“Now let me introduce you to the rest of my ghouls. Sister said that you are to join us on our bus so that you can work if needed while we travel, which now I know means if we have any costume malfunctions that need your guiding hands.”

***

Nervously she straightened the hanging costumes again for the millionth time. It was almost time for the first costume change with everything that need to be done to get things in order they hadn’t had a chance to practice how she would help. Changing the Cardinal from his cassock into one of the skin tight suits that he admitted were tricky for him to get on alone with how much they clung to his skin. Eager to be helpful, fearful that she would in truth be a hindrance to him.

“You look as if you have seen a ghost, Sister. And not one of the ones on stage,” the Cardinal teased as he stepped into the makeshift changing room that she had set up with spare curtains.

Lightening her mood by gently plopping his biretta onto her head. 

“This is already much better than when I was doing this alone-”

“Because you can use me as a glorified hat stand,” she teased.

“Ah, I was going to say because I have some privacy and am not just rushing off to a dark corner to undress, but yes that too.”

Growing more comfortable, her hands worked to help free him from his clothes efficiently, undoing the buttons down to his navel so that he would be able to simply step out of the garment. Catching a glance of his bare chest while turning to properly hang up the belt he had handed off to her.

“At least they didn’t decide to mirror the whole thirty three buttons for Jesus’s life thing when they copied the idea. Can you imagine if they had decided to make that thing have six hundred and sixty six buttons? We would never get you out of it!”

“Si, and what a hindrance to the sin of lust that would be. A frustrating new form of chastity belt for the clergy.”

Mentally planning the best way to help, she grabbed the skin tight pants. If they took him the longest to get on, then that is where she should start. He could put on the shirt while she started to pull on the pants. Quickly gathering the length of each pant leg and condensing it so that he could slide into them. Moving to kneel on the floor before him. Looking up to tell him to step into them.

Instead of her eyes meeting his, they met his cock. His completely uncovered cock.

Freezing, eyes locked on the monstrosity of a cock that hung before her. The hair neatly trimmed, balls symmetrical, and cock tip a pretty shade of pink. Oh Satan. She couldn’t help but continue to stare without a thought in her head beyond, “pretty”. It was the most beautiful cock she had seen outside of porn- not that she was terribly well versed, but she had seen a fairshare in her time in the church.

Her burning face felt like it was glowing as she turned back into reality. He had been speaking to her.

“Huh?”

“I’m so sorry Sister. I should have warned you that I cannot wear anything underneath, since the lines show with those pants. You didn’t consent to this.”

Struggling to find the words as her lips stumbled around them, “it’s fine. I don’t mind, just a little surprised. Not that there is anything little about that surprise.”

Could someone come drag her into hell early? Why did her brain decide the proper response in that situation was to actually say that!

“Please step into these pants before I further embarrass myself,” begging as she refused to look at his eyes or his cock anymore.

The two of them worked together to force him into those pants. Even with her distraction at his firm thighs and well defined bulge that she did not need to use imagination to remember what was underneath, they finished well before his que. 

“Thank you Sister,” he blew a kiss her way as he pushed past the curtains again.

Still braindead from lust she waved goodbye to him like a fool. Slamming her head against the wall the moment he was out of sight.

Oh Satan, they had to do that several more times. And the worst part is she wouldn’t get any privacy on the bus later to do anything to mimic what she wanted that cock to do to her.

***

“Mountain! Where are your shoes?”

She timidly approached the tall ghoul. Their height differences further accentuated by her eyes being glued to his sock covered feet. Feet lacking the shoes that should be on them.

“If there is something wrong with them I could try to fix them?”

Glancing up into the blank mask. Nervously shifting while waiting for some sort of response.

“They’re fine,” he answered in a deep rumble of a voice, so quiet it almost couldn't be heard. At her wide eyed questioning look he elaborated, “interfere with feeling the beat.”

Oh, so that’s why he didn’t wear them. She nodded, subconsciously fiddling with her grucifix in an anxious habit she was unaware of but that the ghouls had all picked up on.

“You do wear them outside though... right?” Her panic grew with Mountain’s continued silence. “Mountain, there is broken glass everywhere outside the venues!”

The stoick ghoul tilted his head to the side like a curious cat, tail flicking in interest at her words.

“You could get hurt!”

“Cute,” his words were followed by two light pats to the tip of her head. “Don’t need to worry about me.”

Turning to wander off again while she squeaked out his name in shock.

***

“Sister, a word- privately,” the Cardinal softened his words the moment her eyes met his. Striking white eye filled with silent care. “If that’s all okie dokie with you.”

“Of course, Cardinal.”

Gentle hands corralled her from her seat at the built in dinner booth where she had been losing steadily at cards against the ghouls. Door softly clicking shut behind them, enclosing them in the small private room at the back of the bus that was seldom used.

“What can I do for you Cardinal?”

“It’s more what I can do for you, Sister.”

Her confused, “huh” had barely left her lips before he continued on. Rushing as if the words would get caught if he did not push them out all in one breath.

“You have been traveling with us for a while, si?” He left no room for a response. “But um not once have you confessed your sins?”

Remaining silent she avoided his glance. Not wanting to admit that the reason she had failed to confess were her sinful thoughts of the man she needed to confess to.

“I just wanted to know if I had done something wrong? To make you, not want to confess, to me?”

Rubbing his fingers together, looking so concerned for her, so downtrodden.

“No,” she rushed to reassure him. “You’ve done so much to make sure I am comfortable here Cardinal! I just- don't have a lot to confess to...”

“Ah, good- that I have not made you uncomfortable! Not that you have felt unable to freely sin in honor of our Lord Lucifer!”

Taking a seat on the couch shoved into the corner of the room. The Cardinal patting the cushion next to him in invitation. Carefully making her way over to his side, trying not to trip over the corner of the bed also squished into the small space. Gingerly sitting down with as much grace as she could manage in the tight space.

“Eek,” she squealed when firm hands pulled her upper body against his, arm pinning her in place. Taking the only option available to her, hiding her face against his shoulder. Soft red velour tickling her face.

“Now that you have at least an illusion of privacy. Pretend you are back in the comfort of confessional back in the abby, piccola.”

Her mind went blank of any sins she could confess to beyond her obsession while in the limited privacy of the tour bus with thinking of the Cardinal’s perfect cock and how it would feel in her aching, empty pussy. Of grinding her throbbing clit against his firm, supple thighs. Hng.

“Oh, ummm vindicate my envy of...”

Small circular motions were rubbed against her back.

“No sin is too small, too indulgent, or embarrassing to confess. Let it out, Sister.”

“My envy of the little plushies that the ghouls are getting from fans, my pride of how my work is ensuring you all look hella good on stage, and hmm... My greedy hoarding of the extra blankets that Dewdrop kicked off his bunk.” 

“Ah I will keep that last one very much a secret from our dear Dewdrop, otherwise you will find him sneaking into your bunk in revenge,” he teased. “Your sins are vindicated, and may your envy be rewarded at our next stop.”

Pulling away from him as she thanked him, pushing down the urge to confess to her attraction to him, “Thank you, Cardinal. I actually do feel better having had my sins vindicated.”

“I will give you any soft plushies I am thrown, Sister. Had I known you were wanting for one I would not have given them away at the end of the show.”

Giggling at his words as a beautiful thought entered her mind of what type of plushie she could be receiving.

“I offer to give you what you yearn for and I am laughed at, so cruel to me Sister.”

Melodramatically clutching his chest in anguish, the sweet little drama queen he pretended to be.

“I can’t wait to own my own little Plushia, Cardinal.”

“Nevermind, I would not dare give you such a cursed object, Sister!”

“They’re not cursed, they’re cute!” She insisted.

“Maybe to someone blind,” he protested with a smile as her laughter grew infectious.

***

Rushing onto the tour bus in a small panic, she looked for the Cardinal. Everything had been taken care of and put back into its proper place except for the pair of black pants that went with one of his infamous tailcoat suits. She had checked all the dressing rooms, backstage, and the racks of costumes- twice. It had been misplaced- she refused to say lost until there was no hope of finding it.

“Cardinal! I need you-”

The ghouls and Cardinal turned to look at her dramatic entrance. Freezing for a moment in intimidation from the brightly demonic eyes of all those already settled on the bus. In mere moments the Cardinal seemed to recognize her distress. Embarrassed at her surely sorry state she tried to settle her wild hair as he stood and rushed to her.

“Sister, are you okie dokie?”

His concern was sweet, but unfortunately made her spiral again.

“I can’t find it!” Not thinking in her panic to explain what she was even looking for, only able to press on with her worry. “I looked everywhere I could think of, even under the fucking couch in the dressing room which I am certain now is covered in bodily fluids that I don’t want to even think about.”

“Sister, you need to relax! Tell your Cardinal what you are looking for.”

“Your tight black pants are missing! Sister is going to kill me, summon me back from hell and then kill me again!” She cried out in anguish.

Losing this job would hurt, she loved it. The fun and excitement of touring. Getting to know her Cardinal and spending more time with him than would have been possible at the ministry.

“Oh Sister, I am so sorry. Satan and more importantly you forgive me!”

Heart dropping to the floor. They were ruined, or somehow they spontaneously combusted. Whatever he was going to tell her happened to them would ruin her life, certainly.

“I have them here,” he gestured to the built in diner style booth the rest of the band was sitting at.

“What?” Clearing her throat after the painfully croaked up whisper she let out.

“I may have um, popped a seam on them,” the Cardinal shyly admitted.

“That’s not the only thing that popped off due to those pants tonight,” someone teased.

“Oh, oh thank Satan I can fix that!”

“I am sorry I did not think to tell you I was taking them back to the bus, Sister.”

Hand pressed against her racing heart as it slowed down to a normal speed, coming down from the stratosphere.

“That’s okay Cardinal, only a minor heart attack was had,” she reassured the poor guilt stricken man. “We can go back into the other room for some privacy when you change back into it for me to fix it.”

“Ah, could it not be fixed while I am not wearing it Sister?”

“It could, but without knowing how much tension the seam should have based on where it broke it’s likely to have issues again. Best to let me see and do an invisible stitch on it.”

“Get it Cardinal,” one of the ghouls whooped.

“Now, Dewdrop no need to be crude. The nice Sister does not need harassment from you over doing her job,” wagging his finger to playfully scold the ghoul.

She really needed to learn how to tell them apart without their instruments when they were all still masked.

“So, I will um see you back there.”

Escaping from the situation by rushing back into the private area at the back of the tour bus, she busied herself with preparing supplies to fix the ripped seam. Distantly hearing something about a booty call followed by laughter from all the ghouls and even the ghoulettes who normally didn’t laugh at more vulgar teasing. It didn’t take long for the Cardinal to join you with a small fond sigh.

“I think they will be making fun of me for a while with this Sister.”

“What did you do, or rather where is this seam Cardinal?”

WIth how the ghouls were carrying on it was likely a crotch seam, but if that had been the case she was sure she would have seen videos by now of the wardrobe malfunction. Along with a dreaded voicemail from Sister Imperator. 

With a flourish to try and hide his flustered cheeks he revealed the pants from how he had folded them. Squinting at them she struggled at first to see the issue, until she finally found it. A small opening of just about two inches. Right in the center of where his ass was.

“Small mercies that the tails cover that up, si Sister?” He laughed at himself. “Too much cake Dewdrop and Swiss teased, even though they know I have not had any cake since the party at the start of the tour.”

Smiling at him as he took initiative to get himself dressed for her to get to work. Doing her best to ignore his nudity and not sneak a glance. Something she failed at many times during those quick changes.

“It’s slang, Cardinal. They were saying you have a nice round ass,” pushing herself to voice the thought and live up to her name as a Sister of Sin.

Something that she would seldom do in front of anyone due to how flustered saying such things made her.

He squeaked at her explanation, playfully giving her a scandalized look. 

“Sister you can’t say such things before you will be feeling up my ass or we will have a very different seam to start worrying about!”

The two of them broke into giggles together.

“Now turn around and let me see what you managed to do to those sinfully frustrating pants.”

***

The Cardinal wasn’t in the little corner of backstage that had been fashioned into a small dressing room of sorts. Frowning, she strained to listen for anything unusual happening on stage, peaking out of the privacy curtain again for the sixth time. Finally catching sight of a flash of pure white slowly moving towards her. Playfully pulling the curtain back and gesturing him in with a flourish that normally would make him laugh.

He didn’t give even a small giggle. Shoulders slumped as he refused to look at her. What had happened on stage?

“Cardinal?” She slowly asked for an explanation.

“I um, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a moment Sister... alone.”

Hands drifting up to start to gesture with his words before his face flushed a bright red, rapidly shoving them back down to cover his crotch. His, very well endowed and very clearly excited crotch.

“Oh!”

Now her face matched his in being as hot as hell surely was.

“Just got a bit too into it with the thrusting, you know how it is,” he tried to deflect. “Or well you probably don’t, you uh don’t really have the anatomy that would make this an issue. Oh Satan, I need to stop talking now. Um, shutting my mouth now.”

During his rambling she realized the issue with letting him “take care” of his not so little issue on his own.

“Cardinal, you can’t jerk yourself off.”

Sending you a look of disbelief, “Sister, I have enough time before I’m needed back on stage and no one comes over here other than us, si?”

“You’ll get the costumes messy with your seamen and it will dry before I can clean it. It would never come out of the fabric,” she began to explain. “Even if you did manage to not get the costumes dirty your hands would be a mess and the sound crew would kill you for getting come on the microphone.”

“Shit,” his head was thrown back as he accepted the unfortunate truth you were giving him. “I don’t know how we will get me into that next suit, Sister. It’s just as tight as this one, though at least it will give me some more modesty. I swear this white one is made to be see-through on purpose!”

Begrudgingly he moved his hands away to start removing his top, while she got up close and personal with the source of both of their frustrations. The Cardinal wasn’t wrong. She could see more than just the outline of his thick, heavy cock pressing into the well tailored pants. The light blush pink of his cock tip was just visible to her when only a few inches away from it.

Hands stumbling at first- like the first time she had to help him undress, knowing now that he wore nothing underneath. The moment she yanked his pants down enough his cock sprung from its confinement. Hitting against his stomach. Swallowing the saliva pooling at the sight of such a pretty cock. Butterflies of the best kind taking up residency in her stomach at this soft moan he was muffling with his leather gloves shoved against his mouth. The sensation of the fabric moving across his cock stimulating him further.

“I think you’re right that you will not be fitting that back into pants without some help, Cardinal... I could help,” she tentatively offered.

“Please Sister, do not torture me like this. I cannot take it.”

“I don’t plan to tease, Cardinal. Not enough time for that tonight.”

Trailing a finger tip softly down the length, watching his thighs twitch while he squeaked.

“I sound like one of my rats squeaking for attention,” he whined.

Giving a playful lick to the tip while fishing for an answer, “I need consent from those pretty painted lips before mine get to work.”

She had never been so bold. Yet the pull of lust built up over the weeks made it easy to fall into this confidant role she was playing.

“Please,” he was more breathless than he ever was at the end of the show.

Capturing his cock with her lips, sliding down until she could take no more into her mouth. Sucking in more of him with each moan and whine he ruined his voice with. Hands resting against her hair, so considerate of her comfort that he took no control of her.  Choosing instead to help keep her hair from getting in her eyes, letting her work his cock at her own pace.

The sound of the ghoul’s musical dueling creating the perfect rhythm to follow. Humming along lowly to parts to make her Cardinal let out the prettiest of sounds. Making sure to repeat the movements that got her the best reactions. They didn’t have much time. His foot moving to press the tips of his shoes against her clit, just resting with a light pressure that felt so good.

Moving her hands to take advantage of the situation to feel up his ass. So soft, just a perfect ass that she envied. She wanted to use it as a stress ball, indulging in some light squeezes as she forced his cock to tickle her throat. Swallowing down her saliva with his cock. She couldn’t afford to get saliva on the pants pooled around his ankles.

It didn’t take long to solve his “problematic” erection. A few bobs to tickle her throat while looking up at him with watery, pleading eyes made him come undone. Both whining as she attempted to swallow the burst of come flooding her mouth.

Lightly thrusting against his shoes with a small cry of need.

“Shit, so good Sister. Fuck! I need to get back onstage.”

Trying to control her pout was hard as they both rushed to finish dressing him in his next suit. Her consolation prize was him guiding her to lower her head for a soft kiss to the top of her skull.

“Later Sister I promise to live between your glorious thighs all night long like the ghouls have been teasing me for daydreaming about. Give you a little somethin’ something, yeah?”

[seramilla]

(Hmmm, I think my last ask was too sweet. I know! ANGST!!)

This monumental wedding is attended by the leaders of both sides (Lucifer, Lilith, the Seven Sins, Micheal, the other Heavenly Virtues, The Elder's). Just as Carmilla is about to say "I do", her eyes catch a glint of metal just behind Sera. Immediately recognizing it as one of her fast flying arrows, Carmilla comes up with a plan to get Sera to safety. As a Seraphim it required all of Carmilla's strength and power to forcibly teleport Sera which meant Carmilla herself was both too weak and drained to get out of the way. When the arrow pierces Carmilla's chest, it hits her directly in the heart, killing her instantly.

For a single second, all was silent. Before all hell broke loose, Heaven's side believes that the Rebels tried to kill Sera, something she must have suspected as she successfully avoided it by teleporting away. Meanwhile, the Rebels believe Heaven set them up by having an assassin fire one of Carmilla's arrows and having Sera purposefully dodge by teleporting. This will become known as the bloodiest battle in the war and, with his side outnumbered and Micheal getting a last minute help from God, Lucifer and his people are banished from heaven.

Sera, on the other hand, is in the clearing she met Carmilla in, confused and very much scared for her love. When she finally gets back to the wedding venue, the entire place is leveled, bodies strewn across the floor and the Elders are congratulating her for "noticing" the Rebels' plot. Sera, still confused, talks to a grieving Micheal and demands to know WTF happened. Once he finally composes himself enough, he tells her everything. But before Sera could properly process what he just said, Micheal suddenly asks if she and Carmilla ever became, intimate, with each other.

Sera can't help but blush when she remembers the night after their betrothal was announced. Both of she and Carmilla were drunk off Beelzejuice and 'Hey! they were getting married anyway, why not start the honeymoon early?'. Sera tells Micheal they've only been together once, months ago. Only to be blindsided by a surprised Micheal claiming that Sera was pregnant, with Carmilla's baby. Sera nearly falls over before Micheal catches her, she starts rambling about how she was supposed to protect her unborn child with Carmilla gone and the Elders still clamoring for Rebel Blood. In her panic she forgets to mention that Carmilla was the one who teleported her away and therefore saved her. Invalidating both side's theories on who attacked first.

Micheal suggests that they pretend the baby was his, conceived before the agreement between them and the Rebels. Micheal only knew Carmilla for a short time but even then, he saw, not only her strategic mind and great fighting prowess, but also her respect, loyalty and determination towards the Rebels' cause and to Lucifer and Lilith themselves. And so, to hopefully repent for banishing his own brother, he promises to defend this child from Heaven's wrath.

(I am assuming this is separate from the triplets AU, since Carmilla and Sera met in the woods in the last ask, rather than in childhood like in the triplets AU. I'm also assuming Lucifer and Michael are still twins, but Sera is not their sister)

Thankfully, when the child Emily is born, she looks like the spitting image of Sera, giving no indication to anyone of her actual parentage. The elders of Heaven are angry that such a child was conceived out of holy matrimony, but that can be remedied. Her marriage to Carmilla was never finalized, after all. All she would have to do is marry Michael, and all would be right as rain.

Soon, Sera is constantly berated and pressured to marry Lucifer’s brother, or at least play the part of his spouse, if she can't stomach the thought of marrying her old friend. The two of them have been heavily scrutinized ever since Michael lied about being the “father” of Sera's child. They have to walk on eggshells, and play the part of the perfect, happy couple in public, in order to stay in Heaven's good graces. The acting almost makes Sera feel ill. There's only one person she wants to be with, and it's eating her up inside that she, and her child, may never see Carmilla again. And she has to openly declare her love to someone else.

It makes Sera feel sick.

[suzukiblu]

As someone who's super into Superboy, do you have any reccs for curious beginners about what to watch/read to check that out?

( GOD I'M SO SORRY HOW LONG I TOOK TO ANSWER THIS, I LEFT IT HALF-FINISHED IN MY DRAFTS BECAUSE I MEANT TO LOOK UP SOME FIC RECS LATER AND THEN TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT IT, hahasob. Dangit, self! I don't know if this is even still a relevant question for you but screw it, forget both that concern and the recs-research, I am ANSWERING IT NOW. )

So as far as actual canon goes, in the comics I mostly read his original solo title from issue fifty to cancellation, which was about another fifty issues, and also all of Young Justice's original run and both the World Without Grownups and Sins of Youth events, as well as a few other YJ-related one-shots and specifically Young Justice: The Secret, which is I beeelieve only one issue and was the comic that first got me interested in YJ as a team to begin with. I went back and read some earlier issues later, but issue fifty of Superboy's first solo is actually a really good jumping-on point for him imo, it's the start of an arc about him being stranded on an island of beast-men with amnesia and repressed powers and it sets up a new status-quo for him after. There's also a later arc in the series about interdimensional travel through Hypertime where he meets a lot of other versions of himself, including the grown-adult version who's trying to invade half the multiverse, which I thought was especially good too. And like, just it was a real good run in general, I thought, I really dug it.

Also, he was originally introduced as a character after (or during?) the Death of Superman arc and featured reasonably heavily in the Reign of the Supermen event as one of the four replacements trying to become the new Superman, though I haven't personally read much of those. If I started anywhere as a newcomer, I'd probably start with either his original solo run or the original Young Justice. Or both! Both is good! Young Justice is especially choice, though, and also tells a full and pretty well-developed story over the run of the comic without anything in particular getting cut off prematurely. Like, I remember it wrapping up really well, especially for an ongoing American comic from the Big Two.

Other comics I know Kon's been prominent/important in but either haven't read or haven't read much of: Superboy and the Ravers, Titans/Young Justice: Graduation Day, Teen Titans (2003), another solo Superboy title set in Smallville, Young Justice (2019), Dark Crisis: Young Justice, and Superboy: Man of Tomorrow.

There's also the Young Justice cartoon, which has a VERY different take on his personality, though I still really liked what I saw of the character and have written fic about that version of him, and then there's the animated Reign of the Supermen movie, which I still haven't seen but looks real good and seems to be more comics-accurate, personality-wise. And like, I absolutely LOVE his design in it, haha. He's just a lil' brat, it's great! In live-action there's both Titans and later seasons of Smallville, but I wasn't very interested in either of those myself and don't know much about them.

There's . . . there's a lot out there, haha, the character is like a good thirty years old now. And honestly I kinda play fast and loose with some of the canon, this is VERY much the kind of fandom where I just go for what I think works best for the story I wanna tell. It's comics, okay, canon is BARELY EVEN GUIDELINES AT THIS POINT, hahaha.

[silmarillaure]

The news about riize has made me so angry. These people are absolutely fucking disgusting and something seriously needs to be done about this. Taeil can drug and gang rape a girl and everyone’s silent but a boy smokes and has a girlfriend predebut??? And people act like this! Its ridiculous… but also I can’t believe you like both silm AND Kpop!! What groups do you stan? Who are your biases?

T@e!l is the wrong comparison to make here.

No one supports T@e!l, Korean & International netizens ALL hate him. He was immediately removed (thankfully) and I think everyone just wants to forget about his existence because who wants to keep a r@p!st on their mind. There's nothing to protest for, his career is done.

Obviously Seunghan's treatment by OT6 Briize is evil & unforgivable though. It just has nothing to do with T@e!l and isn't comparable.

It's just purely stupid & idiotic how OT6 Briize wanted to & succeeded in punishing Seunghan for being a normal teenager. It happened PRE-debut, years ago... it's pointless witch hunting him for it now, but apparently not being a celibate virgin is punishable by d@ath threats & having to leave your group.

The thing is, just look at the rest of RIIZE. They're all beautiful gorgeous boys. Do the same people who hate Seunghan for dating think that pretty boy Wonbin & k-drama beauty Sungchan have always been and will always be single? How did they look at Seunghan's stunning face and think he would have no game?

This is ridiculous and it's even more ridiculous SM caved in and sided with the people sending him funeral wreaths for the sin of dating. They've never been good at defending their artists from haters, but some of their most popular artists/former artists have had dating "scandals". Jonghyun, Taeyeon, Baekhyun, Kai, Krystal... they all got a terrible amount of hate but didn't loose their careers.

....

My Stan List & Biases:

BTS: Got me into K-pop and are true artists. Their Korean discography is a masterpiece & I love how BTS's rapline are real rappers and not just "Idol rappers" who mumble/fast talk. Also I appreciate the Rapline's heavy involvement in their music, they do way more than most idols. (OT7 are all my biases but Jin & J-Hope are my bias wreckers.)

ATEEZ: I've been a fan for years now & I'm so proud of how far they've come. I can't say I love every single comeback but their music usually grows on me & when it works it just works. Seonghwa & Hongjoong are my biases & Yeosang is my bias wrecker but I love everyone.

Le Sserafim: Sakura Miyawaki is my queen & she is a stage presence demon who I will defend til my last breath. They're also the funniest group. Eunchae is my bias wrecker, she's so gosh darn cute & charming.

Victon (now inactive): They had some good f*cking music. I still keep up with by bias Han Seungwoo's releases with are usually good.

WOODZ (soloist): I love self produced idols who make good music. Not to mention he's also good at everything & doesn't lack in vocals, dance, or rap. What an icon!

ZB1: I know they're a temporary group but they're genuinely one of the best groups ever. I can't believe such a perfect group was made with no MNET rigging! Each member is so talented & they ALL deserved their spots in the group. Not to mention they're all funny af with great visuals. Haobin are my biases & everyone else is a bias wrecker.

NCT Dream: I stan them but I don't really have a bias or bias wrecker. I like them all about the same & their bond as a group is heartwarming. Their music is also the best in NCT.

I would stan NCT 127... if only I liked their music. Yuta is my bias & Taeyong is my bias wrecker though.

I don't quite stan ILLIT, but I was rooting for Moka all throughout the survival show RUNext. I'm so glad she made it and it's amazing to see her become so popular when she was really underappreciated pre-debut. I'm also just rooting for all the girls in general, they seem very sweet & deserve the best.

Also not quite K-pop but (K)J-pop - JO1: I love them, I love their music, I love their voices, their visuals, their personalities, amazing. Junki is my bias (oshi in Japanese) & Ren is my bias wrecker.

[lizardrosen]

my umineko/oresteia fic is playing fast and loose with the timelines of both fandoms, which is complicated by the fact that umineko has different gameboards while not exactly being a timeloop. i've been periodically going back to the beginning, or combining a couple elements of different boards to make a new chronology, and writing the whole thing assuming you've already reached beatrice's heart.

it's definitely not a 1:1 matchup of characters, either. usually beatrice is the electra to yasuda's orestes, but sometimes maria is a juror putting battler-as-orestes on trial as the house falls apart, and sometimes battler is the agamemnon to beatrice's clytemnestra, carrying a sin she can never forgive, even as she loves him still.

in the icke oresteia, agamemnon receives an anonymous message reading 'child killer', which he puts in the pocket of his bathrobe a few scenes before iphigenia's sacrifice. then much later, when orestes comes in disguise to kill his mother he runs a bath and puts on his father's bathrobe, where he finds the same 'child killer' and takes it as a sign that he is meant to follow through with his horrible vengeance.

so in my fic i'm putting a scene from Ep 5 where natsuhi receives a message from the Mysterious Caller, and then a scene from Ep 1 where she goes to challenge beatrice herself, and finally the Ep 2 scene with shannon, george, and gohda in natsuhi's room. i'm honestly a little surprised by how much i was able to look at gohda with love here, because he does bully the younger servants most of the time, but he also speaks up for them once rosa gets paranoid.

[slarnd]

Tristette | Granblue Fantasy

Former enforcer for a magical criminal organization but got betrayed after an unrelated Toxic Yuri Moment (TM)

Total Scorpio

She's a draph, so she's short (4'3'') but has horns and is strong

Accordant to a magical axe that lets her control monsters. Was also briefly a werewolf

Kind of a bratty punk. Determined to look down on others (metaphorically. again, 4'3'') to make herself feel better

Friends to Enemies to Lovers with another girl. Not very good at being honest with her emotions

tl;dr: Born a slave, busted out with magic axe, sent to jail, busted out, ran away with another girl, lived on the run, did some murders, took the burden for that girl's sins, betrayed that girl, did some crimes, gaslighted that girl, tried to kill that girl, kissed that girl, sacrificed herself for that girl, now implied to be alive but barely

Only an NPC (for now) so I'm kind of playing fast and loose with stuff here

App | Stats | Rules

[angstmonsterwrites]

While the internet has perhaps allowed for far greater accessibility to psychology and mental health literature, studies, and communities than there once was, something that really depresses the living shit out of me has been watching models and theories that were meant to have plenty of nuanced "YMMV" wiggle room be watered down via social media into vapid, harmful narratives and stereotypes.

Oh, what's that? You were raised in a narcissistic/alcoholic family and you weren't the Scapegoat? You were the Golden Child/Hero?! Well then, be prepared to be told there's no way you could turn out to be anything but a narcissistic shill for your toxic parents, and how you must be 100% too myopic and perversely spoiled to see the dysfunction. Also, you probably participated in the blame and abuse of your Scapegoat sibling.

Except...maybe none of that is true. Maybe due to good education and other helpful influences outside of the immediate family structure, you began to wake up and smell the bullshit pretty quick. Maybe you realized well before adulthood that you were being used and dehumanized into little more than a, "Look What I Created " human trophy for the narcissistic parent. You realized they didn't care about you so much as what you could do for them--especially put on that mandatory false front of functionality; to perform so much wellness you didn't truly feel. Maybe when shit got really bad, you began to defend that Scapegoat sibling quite passionately, regardless of the consequences. Maybe as an adult you were actually the first to determine the narcissistic parent to be a fucking intolerable, irredeemable monster and cut contact.

And now, maybe you have your own set of traumas and troubles from all that bullshit, but when you go looking for literature or studies, you find that so, so, so much of it--even the best quality and most up to date stuff-- just... isn't about someone like you. It's ALL about the Scapegoats; all about people who desperately need help internalizing the reality that they're not "bad" and that they deserve an ounce of fucking decency from others. You have to do your best to try to glean from the anemic edges of those resources. And it's not that they have so many resources that's the problem--it's that you have scant few. It's that even some dyed-in-the-wool experts struggle to say you could have possibly been abused or traumatized because what should have been a loose model of dysfunction is now treated by too many as a set of hard and fast rules.

You desperately wish someone could help you untangle how not to feel completely grossed out, dismissed, or like a helpless kid again when someone tells you, "I'm proud of you," because of how often that expression was used as a manipulative veiled threat or statement of ownership over your self and all you might accomplish. You need help regaining and feeling truly secure in your autonomy. You need to be seen, in a subtle yet privacy-respecting way that takes great care not to put you through the ringer of feeling like a display piece again. You wish that you didn't so often feel compelled to set yourself aside, self isolate, or constantly offer ways you might be wrong about this or that as proof that you weren't that atrocious Golden Child stereotype of a 'narcissist in training'.

Meanwhile, the prevailing narrative around that particular dysfunctional family role continues to pile your parents' sins at your feet as if you yourself were just a 3rd bad parent, rather than the abused, used, parentified, and often terrified child you were.

And it makes attempting to recover from it trying and so very lonely.

But hey. Who am I to say? Maybe I and others like me are just "the wrong kind" of survivor.

[notthatgirlfrcmculiacan]

||OOC: Not me over here trying to piece out the timeline of QOTS again to get a better perspective on how old Tere is. Gonna put it here cause I do this all the time on paper w/pen and always loose the info. So...

This is long, so putting under a read more:

Teresa is 8 years old when her parents are killed by the cartel. As someone raised Catholic, I would bet that was a First Communion ceremony going down when the cartel hit. Babies are baptized and then children go through First Communion at 7-10 years old.

At 15 she begins changing money in Sinaloa. At 16 she is running her own block on Calle Juarez in Culiacán, Sin. She does this for work for an undetermined amount of time later until Guero finds her. I've seen something saying she was 20 when they met, but I don't remember for sure. I think it was Jenny Lin - Alice's makeup artist on QOTS, maybe it's a detail from the book, idk. But we will say 20. Sure.

This is where things begin to get wonky. Because everything I've read says she is in her late 20s when the series ends, but hear me out, or rather just let me ramble cause no one's gonna read this probably. But her being late 20s isn't possible.

She's 20 when Guero finds her, we already discussed this. Brenda is there, they meet and become fast friends. Brenda talks about possibly being pregnant again. Okay, fine. There's a baby shower, again, sure. Fine, nothing to see here. Nothing odd yet.

Teresa remembers Brenda giving birth to Tony. She was there for that. She'd agreed to be Tony's Godmother at the baby shower. Again, nothing odd here. Except the fact that Tony was a 10-12 year old little boy when Guero was "killed" by Epifanio. So at the point of going on the run from Epifanio and meeting Camila, she is already 30. If she met Guero at 20, which I don't want to think about her meeting him much younger. Even at 18, she'd be in her mid-late 20s when she meets Camila.

But then! Fast forward some more. We find out that Tony is now 15. He's getting his learner's permit. That means that he's at least 15 and 6 months - At least that's the law in my state. That means that about 16 years have passed since the beginning of the series's timeline (her meeting Guero), which means Teresa is roughly 35/36 years old in New Orleans.

The show's timeline has always confused me though. Like it felt like she'd only been with Guero for a couple years at most, not nearly a decade, before Guero fucked everything up by stealing from Epi. I feel like the baby shower scene and the birth scene were added in after Tony's death to make it that much more emotional - also to make the she's his Godmother plot work better - she couldn't be his Godmother if she wasn't there when he was baptized as a baby. But I don't think Teresa was originally supposed to have been there for all that. I almost remember Brenda mentioning possibly being pregnant again, but I haven't watched Piloto recently. This would make more sense, for Tony to have already been born. But I just don't know.

I'm gonna go with the timeline of her having been there when Tony was born because I like that emotional connection. So by the time she fakes her death, she is in her late 30s. Which also matches more with Alice's age while playing Teresa - she did turn 40 this year.

Anywho, if you made it this far in my near-Midnight ramblings, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. XD ||

ETA: Also, the fact she went from morra to drug mule to international drug queenpin in the matter of 4-6 years when Camila said it had taken her and Epi 20 years..... nuts. Of course she had Camila's and James's help with learning the ropes and making connections, but still...

[aethesfaelibrarae]

Rin's character boils down to two things:

The horrors of being born in a woman's body versus the horrors of existing in a social climate that would rather you not exist.

Rin themself is a horror. But they’re honest about it (read: lying to herself the whole way through about any and all emotion and bonding). They're arrogant, an inconsiderate asshole, spiteful and also kind and compassionate. Justice for Rin doesn't just boil down into revenge—it's the perpetrator not being able to come back. This could be murder (Rin's method of fighting goes from playing a game to complete and utter dominance of mind and body) (read:torture) or this could be making the perpetrator ruin their masquerade with their own two hands.

This Joker is pissed when Black Mask/Noire denies them both Okumura and (a second Ruler because themes).

This Joker deals with the Kamoshida Incident by giving up their claim to anger to Ann and Shiho, giving up that vengeance to Ryuji and instead focusing on the game aspect. The puzzles. (What do you mean there's a Shadow version of how Kamoshida sees her and it's so alien yet familiar that Rin's the only one who knows that that's supposed to be them?)

Rin's not skinny but they are lithe, whatever curves and softness they have, they're covering, smothering under layers and layers of professionalism and uniform. Rin is graceful but masculine—to Kamoshida. To people who can't capitalize on that initially they read masculine. To the Thieves and Arcana at first, they're caught up in what to refer to them as, how to address them, what to call them... Eventually everyone gets with the program that she's just Rin. The Rin who's definitely Fine™ and hasn't slept in three days but Will Scold you about not eating properly Ann. Rin who will eventually get more comfortable with the notion of wearing dresses for themself and not The Mission. The very nonbinary Femme Fatale who doesn't want to risk Ann and instead volunteers as distraction (the eyes that watch her down the road are familiar) (they hate them).

Rin's ruthless in the same way that Akechi is but has people who will stare in horror when they go to far. Who will ask further questions about their intent. Who will eventually learn the language.

The compromise between bleaching their skin (like Akechi does) or straightening their hair.

The internalized victim blaming. The way that they hate Mishima almost more than Kamoshida.

The character arc Rin has culminating in Justice as the means to an end but not the end. The end is when it comes for the victims... Learning that sometimes that needs to have continual help.

It being less KND style takeaway of stupid shitty adults are ruining the world and it being more adults don't know what they're doing and I'm an adult now and I have to Care now, oh god.

Playing fast and loose with Rin's humanity as a dark-skinned hafu. Playing fast and loose with the definition of monster and the wolf imagery.

Rin pulling solutions out of their ass. Rin being manipulative in their vulnerability—it half working. Rin getting books on leadership, on psychology, already able to dodge chalk but can't string together a sentence unless it's a passionate monologue.

Rin being touch starved and terrified of it because it's a weakness how does she fix this? Rin knowing too much about people (every fear, every sin) and not enough.

Joker's only cool as long as you're not friends. Joker's only put together if you don't look to close. The Thieves—the Core Thieves anyway—look at Rin's too detailed, too intricate plans and tell them to take a nap. Joker stopped being cool when they explained that she learned Latin because they wanted to beat out one particular Chess club member in a class they weren't even taking because he stole their cupcake (it was the last chocolate cupcake with red frosting in the school cafeteria) (it was Rin's and Hideoshi deserved to suffer).

The dynamics of realizing that Joker's the youngest college student. Realizing firstly, ah that's why they're a little shit and then—they were in prison for a month. No one told them why they were arrested for a month.

They go to a new school, hopefully for now beginnings and for this whole nightmare to blow over and it doesn't. It gets worse.

Do you think that they can flinch at the beat cops? Do you think that Rin would allow it?

Rin eating everyone they've ever touched sins whole and not being able to set them down. Always remembering. Always haunted.

Rin is a Momento Mori that transform into Vivere. It's just they've definitely got some issues with vulnerability and humanness to work out.

Side thing: Rin's a low-empathy autistic with lotsa of trauma who calls themself a sociopath because they can't cry when their ex-girlfriend dies suddenly.

Y'all remember bad ending of Semester 3, the one where Joker just stops and stays in bed? That's what Rin is constantly outrunning. If they stop too long, they won't get back up. The grief is too much.

Always expecting to be replaced at any time. The space between Morgana and the betrayal too close to not trigger them..

*pats the top of Rin's head* this bad boi can fit so much gender and trauma and kindness in there as well as so many rivalries. So many. Ann and Rin have a rough time together but not as Rough as Makoto and Rin will.

Just Joker as a predator in their own right in accompaniment to Akechi. Just barely restrained chaotic tired vigilante insists upon the fact that they can definitely kill you, more at 10.

[iamnathannah]

Expanding on this, Barbie meets Gloria on accident as they try to beat the Norwegian guy to the chocolate muffins, Barbie gets there first and when she first lays on Gloria, she falls at first sight. Along with the muffin. Into Gloria's hand below. She expects Gloria to run away with glee.

"Hey, technically a tie. Not the whole thing, but we can grab a tie and split it?"

Barbie doesn't get the taste of the whole muffin here, but she'll certainly get it in her near future.

She's already fucked and when Gloria unconsciously flexes her forearm bringing the sinful chocolate charge of the day delicacy up to her lovely chest perkily contained within a turquoise Nike sports under a loose hoodie , she smoothly switches to a false flirting mode, where she's onto the smaller woman, but begins her own slide-in with a genuine tone of friendship.

"Only if you tell me how you got here so fast." "Heptathlete. Disciplined in all sports." "Ahh, you seemed tracky. Pole vault myself." Gloria laughs as she grabs a plate and plastic cutlery to split the muffin. "So you must consider me no challenge to jump..." she chuckles, sniffing the treat as she puts it on the plate. "...over." "Have to change my whole strategy to get over you, shorty." Barbie examined her clothes further, noting the turquoise circular crest on her tank above her bra, featuring a dual stripes with five stars in the middle and the Olympic logo. "You talk very weirdly American for a...gotta be a Central American country, they love their blues." "Pretty close, Honduras. Well, a representative though birthright as I was born there, but just so my grandparents could be there for it, otherwise I'm a San Fernando gal, Arcata specifically." They continue down the line, grabbing some hot eggs and sausage and plating them on their trays. "The red and white is too obvious." Barbie shook her head in the negative, to the Honduramerican's astonishment. "Would you actually believe Australian Canadian?" "Dios mio, no." Gloria winced. "Your dad did the most Australian thing! The 'shrimp' thing!"

"My grandma Ruth got through to the parents and had the most deadpan sense of humor, just the best gal, she's hangin' in there in Gold Coast; I hail Canberra-side. Moved to a little speck of a town on Lake Erie called Willows Point, found my talent while I was in Simcoe when I was in high school, and here we are. I'm in TO now though. Parents were from Glasgow and Edinburgh, so I'm technically a true 'Scanaussie'." "I'm into rare and one of a kind." Her voice let out a sexy crackle as she considered the blonde in front of her. "We could talk about my own heritage but I've got that on YouTube. Literally. 24 minutes I got out of it, and that's why the COH reached out to me after it hit the 5k view mark." "Look at us, all interested in each other." Barbie shoots off an easy laugh, playing with her hair idly and nervously.

"By the closing ceremonies I could make you my Bonnie Gal Shiela." "The Games have quite a way to go, so I'd like to see you try?" "Game on, baby." The doe-eyed brunette felt warm, but also a sudden charge of competition as she felt Barbie's hip brush slightly against hers in line. "In the Olympic spirit, I play fair though." "Lucky the IOC doesn't sanction certain activities." "Definitly don't need any enhancements here, I'm all-natural." Barbie sighed, wearily. "Eat first, darling. Can't compete on an empty stomach."

"Eyes up here then." Gloria flustered, surprised that she was getting any attention from her belly. "Though that little left freck–" "Esperada! Can I join you?" Gloria's longtime friend and fellow competitor, a Dominican woman named Rae, was known in the long jump community as El Presidente for being the respected elder of the women's side, with this being her last rodeo with the Olympics after winning two in previous Games, with Gloria hoping to medal or honor her personal Paris Geller by winning their last hep together and beating Rae for the first and last time.

"Always a space for more, though sorry, the muffins are claimed, we're splitting this one." "'S'okay," Rae shot back sitting at the table and smoothly placing her tray down, festooned in the green and gold of her nation. "Whose Rachel McAdam's sis here? Really giving the Canucks good rep here?" Barbie, still wanting to talk to Gloria, focused on her new tablemate. "Barbie Holden, pole vault." She eased into comfortable conversation with the two women platonically, but she definitely knew her new Honduran Honeybee would get right back in the match soon enough for her.

I gotta stop watching the Olympics because now I have a heptathlete Gloria/pole vaulter Barbie story floating around in my head. 😂

(Gloria uses her birthright to represent Honduras and Barbie is Canadian because I love the online joke that most bi YouTube women are assumed to be from Canada even if they've never been near the 49th parallel)

ETA - Uh yeah...example of said hotness mentioned in tags below (and she's in pink which like gahhhh!) And the article it was taken for.

[dionysianfreak]

Do you think Hellenic Polytheists need to worship exactly the way the ancient Greeks did? I've noticed this sentiment somewhat heavily, and while I think it's important to understand the historical basis for our practice and adhere to the values (xenia, kharis, etc.) It strikes me as... weird the insistence that you can only worship as the ancient Greeks did and it's kinda made me feel insecure about my practice. Would love to know your thoughts!

I just wanna disclaim that this is my opinion. this isn't a question I alone, or anyone alone, and answer. everyone has different opinions on it, and this is mine.

i don't think Hellenic Polytheists need to be reconstructionists (aka adhering to the ancient praxis rather than making your own) in order to respect or be valid in your worship. however, I also don't think that you can remove Gods from their religious cultural context without disrespecting that culture or the people who made the religion.

what I mean by this is that almost every religion has "rules" (loose term). Christianity has guidelines to avoid sins, Islam has customs you adhere to during certain times like fasting during Ramadan, and Hellenic Polytheism is no different. there's a difference between going against a norm like choosing to worship at home instead of in church as a Christian and violating the rules of the religion such as commiting a sin in Gods name. the same goes for Helpol—it's important to stay clean to the best of your abilities and observe our religious concepts like Xenia in order to avoid the religious consequences if you violate them.

one thing about some of our customs though is that they are sometimes neutral consequences of being mortal. cleanliness is important in our religion because humans are believed to be inherently "dirty" and it's respectful to be clean when facing a pure Being like a God. this isn't a punishment, it's just how it is. if you don't clean yourself, you can suffer consequences like illness which is true. if you don't keep yourself clean you're more likely to get sick. most people already keep up with good hygiene but this luxury wasn't afforded to the ancient Hellas so it was a bigger deal to them. still, we can be respectful and wash our hands before giving offerings.

other concepts like Xenia are a moral obligation to many of us, and I'd like to think most people already practice Xenia without any ties to Helpol. this is because it's good to not be an asshole. Xenia just tells us to be kind to our neighbors and offer help when we can. be kind to your fellow people and the people in most need. a lot of people outside helpol agree with this already.

so, to wrap it up, there's a difference between observing the obligations that a religious upholds and being a reconstructionist. I can stay clean and be kind even without making my rituals the exact same as the ancients. it's disrespectful in most religions to violate these obligations because they come along with the belief system. if you're going to worship Zeus, it is a direct offence to be a dickhead to those in need because He is the God of Don't Be A Dickhead. that is what we mean. don't remove Gods from Their religions just to avoid the level of piety that religion asks of you. you can be a revivalist practicing modernly while still upholding the values our religion asks of us.

and if it makes you feel better, I'm nowhere near a reconstructionist. if ancient values were the standard, the Gods would have turned on me a long time ago bc I am too neurodivergent for recon stuff. detaching my worship and self worth from what others were doing was the best thing I ever did for my practice :) if the Theoi are happy, then who am i to tell you what They want from you

[hrtiu]

Would you consider writing something super short, like a couple hundred words, about Tech helping Brit'ni integrate that really tough problem you had trouble with a few days ago? 😅 (sorry, I'm trying to make you laugh lol)

Ah! You're the greatest! Ok, I think I can manage to put something together. for you <3

"Argh!!" Brit'ni let out a primeval scream and threw her stylus across the room. It landed against the dull durasteel wall with a pathetic plink, the sound not equal to Brit'ni's rage.

Tech looked up from the servos he was soldering and lifted his safety visor, eyes blinking at her in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"It's this stupid assignment," Brit'ni said, gesturing to the datapad she'd been staring at for the past two hours. She'd come to Tech's apartment to study--he had the perfect, no-frills setup and even just being around him focus pressured Brit'ni into being more productive--but so far she'd made almost no progress.

"Ah, the economics of past cultures class?" Tech said, pressing a finger to the bridge of his nose to lift up the goggles that weren't currently over his eyes.

"Yes," Brit'ni said with a scowl. "I don't understand why I have to learn any of this to study history. When am I going to need to find the expected value of a random variable curating a museum exhibit?"

Tech set his soldering gun down and pursed his lips, like she'd insulted him personally. "Just as your understanding of history and cultures can inform the way I program this computing system," he said, gesturing to the servos on his work bench, "so too can statistics inform the way you evaluate and interpret history."

"Ok, ok, you can get off your high fathier. Just help me, please?"

Tech's eyebrows raised and he nodded. "Certainly."

He got up from the workbench and headed over to Brit'ni. With each step she wondered if she was making a huge mistake. She'd never asked Tech for help on this sort of thing before because she had a sneaking suspicion he'd be absolutely insufferable. And she liked kissing Tech. She didn't want to mess that up.

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked, leaning over her datapad.

She took a moment to answer, letting herself enjoy the warm feeling of him looming over. "It's this integral." She pointed to the tortured s-loop on the screen, even just the sight of it twisting her brain into knots. "I know we're supposed to use a change of variable, but the new derivative just doesn't fit."

She'd looked at it backwards, frontwards, sideways, and upside down. She'd stared at this problem for thirty minutes straight without writing so much as a single calculation. But the harder she stared the more inscrutable it became. She was convinced that only a true genius could solve it, and even then only after considerable effort.

"Substitute in u equals w over pi sin of x," he said.

"What?"

"Substitute in u equals w over pi sin of x. This is a normal distribution, and that will become obvious once you take that substitution."

Brit'ni stared at him blankly. It had taken him less than five seconds to find the solution. Five seconds. Five seconds to solve this thrice-blasted problem. "Seriously?"

"Yes," Tech said, his brows gathering together in confusion. "Are you having trouble hearing me? This question is a bit tricky, but quite solvable. From your outburst earlier I was worried it might take longer to help-"

Brit'ni stood up fast from her seat, her chair scraping noisiliy against the floor beneath her. "I'm going to get some air," she said, as if there was anywhere you could get fresh air on Coruscant.

"Brit'ni, did I do something wrong-?"

"No, you were very helpful."

"It was no problem at all, the question was elementary-"

"I'm getting some air!" Brit'ni reiterated with more force, slamming the door shut behind her as she stalked from Tech's room.

She ended up going for some jwa bing--a tasty fried dough snack sold by a vendor just outside Tech's apartment. She walked around his neighborhood, slowly consuming the greasy disc as she let herself cool off. The area was a little tough, but during the day she felt safe enough.

About a half hour later and Brit'ni was filled with regret--both at the heavy, greasy feeling settling in her stomach and at the childish way she'd reacted earlier. She knew Tech wasn't the most tactful with how he expressed himself--it was one of the things she liked about him. She'd need to be patient with him if she wanted him to be patient with her.

She walked back to the apartment and Tech buzzed her in without question. She entered the keycode to his room and was already composing an apology in her head when the door whooshed open to reveal a flustered Tech, his goggles resting haphazardly atop his head and a stack of flimsi--flimsi--in his hands.

"Brit'ni, I wanted to apologize-"

"You shouldn't have to apologize," Brit'ni said, almost angry with the contrite lilt to his voice. "I was being childish. You helped me, and I'm grateful."

"I appreciate that, but I still need to apologize. I spoke with Echo and he helped me understand that by answering your question so quickly and with no explanation, I may have implied a shortcoming in intelligence on your part. That I trivialized the difficulties you were having with the assignment by suggesting that it should have been easy."

He was right, of course. That was exactly how he'd made her feel. Most of the time Tech's staggering intellect didn't intimidate Brit'ni. She knew she was smart too--maybe in different areas, but smart all the same. And she knew that Tech's brilliant mind sometimes kept him from seeing the bigger picture. But every once in a while it hit her just how much better he was than her at certain things--a lot of things, if she was being honest. And sometimes it hurt.

Tech took a step towards her and held out the short stack of flimsi like a peace offering. Brit'ni took it and looked down to find neat lines of scribbled calculations filling the flimsi, Tech's consistently-chaotic handwriting unmistakable.

"I wrote out a detailed explanation of the integration--each step as well as the underlying theorem supporting them," he said, taking a step back as soon as she had the flimsi securely in her hands. "I also tried to build in an explanation of the kind of intuition that makes problems like these easier. When I said this problem was simple, it is because I have seen others like it before. The next time you see a problem like this you will see what to do next just s easily. It is only a matter of experience."

Her eyes scanned the first page of notes, and already the impossibly tangled problem she'd been slaving over for several hours seemed to slip loose. His notes were thorough, straightforward, and easy to understand. She could do this.

For some reason, hot tears filled her eyes. She clutched the papers to her chest, the stress of her coming exams and the frustration of the assignment hitting her all at once.

"Brit'ni?" Tech asked, his voice quiet. "Is this acceptable? I can offer an alternate apology-"

"It's perfect, Tech," she said, raising a hand to wipe the moisture from her eyes. "Thank you."

Relief flooded his expression and he stepped up to her, wrapping his arms around her in that oddly precise way of his. "I think you are very intelligent, and especially knowledgeable in your field," he said into her hair. "And I want to be able to help you when you need it."

"I want that, too," she said, her voice muffled by his chest. "Just... try not to be a condescending ass about it."

He chuckled, the sound resonating across each unit of surface area they shared. Then he coughed. "I'll, eh, do my best. I'm sure you will always let me know if that is the case?"

"Deal."

"Deal."

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #11

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

[AO3]

*edited so the images are better

"... At least until we can get you to your room. You need to wake up before they ring the bell."

'What's goin' on..?' Why was my shoulder shaking?

"Is Mori okay?”

The sound of my nickname snapped me into consciousness. I pushed myself up and hummed in question. When I opened my eyes it took me a moment to adjust to the bright light. Everyone was standing in front of a gate.

"Did you sleep well?"

Why did this world have three suns? Wait. Two were Sinbad's eyes. That checks out.

I nodded with another hum. I wasn't able to form words yet, and even if I could I would have lost access from waking up to such a beautiful sight.

I missed his response since I was still half asleep, but I did hear Ja'far repeating his words from earlier.

"Please, try to stay awake for a little while. When we step through, they will ring the bell to announce Sin's arrival home. We didn't want you waking up from the shock."

I had to repeat his words in my mind to hold onto them.

"Oh. Thank you for waking me."

Even with their best efforts I didn't have enough time to get clear headed before the bell was rang to announce the return of the King. I ended up jolting anyway.

I was glad to still be on Aladdin's flying turban. I couldn't focus if my life depended on it. I had some energy since I had just been resting and I was still mostly numb from sleep so my aches and pains weren't affecting me yet. After being sick for so long, I was in serious need of serotonin, so I couldn't shake the waves of excitement building in me as I realized I really was in Sinbad's Palace. It's one thing to read about something and another to actually experience it. I knew I had said I would see a doctor as soon as I arrived, but I couldn't stop myself from going into full geek mode and just wanting to look around.

In other words, I was a weak, energetic, space cadet without a filter -prime condition to make an idiot and/or nuisance of myself- if I couldn't find something to force me to "sober" up and start masking.

---

~POV Sin~

Horns announced the King's return to his Palace as the group walked through its gate. Many of the guards and civil servants present gave their welcome. The looks of awe on his guests' faces as they walked through the entrance to the court yard boosted Sinbad's already large ego.

Alibaba's and Aladdin's excitement had started to wane after walking so long, but Mori had the same look she wore when she first got on the ship. Now that Sinbad had seen her like that before, he knew better than to try to engage her in something she wasn't already thinking about. It was a lot like dealing with Yamuraiha after the magicians made a breakthrough. But that didn't mean he wouldn't still try to tease her if he had the opportunity; he'd just have to try a different method.

It was a bit of a relief to see Mori so energetic after the previous night. He would still have the doctors sent to her asap though.

Given how important his guests were, Sinbad decided to escort them, himself, to the Green Sagittarius Tower. Placing the 3 kids in the guest tower was a given since they hadn't agreed to any partnerships yet. The Purple Leo Tower was where Sinbad and his most trusted lived; as much as he wanted to move Mori in there with them immediately, Sinbad knew it would be better to wait until the others learned to trust her, so his Prophet was going to have to stay in the Green Sagittarius Tower for now. This would also give them more time to prepare her permanent room.

Ja'far raised his voice slightly to get all of the guests' attention as he explained a little about the Tower. Masrur took his cue to leave. The Fanalis raised his hand in a half hearted wave as he turned away from the group and started to walk away. The King watched one General leave as he heard the other lead his guests into the Tower.

It was his time to head off too. The rest of his Generals that had been left at home would be showing up to greet him -there was a lot to catch up on. As Sinbad had started to leave, the waves encouraged him to look back at the guest tower. Mori was standing watching him instead of following Ja'far. She had her bag in her arms instead of on her back.

"Is something wrong?"

"I know I should go rest and wait for a doctor, but," she looked at him with an odd expression -like she was seeing through him, "the waves keep pointing me that way." She pointed at the direction he was going.

She was right. The waves would have her follow him

instead of Ja'far.

"It's Drakon!" Mori gasped and her eyes grew. She gave a small laugh to herself. "The first Household Member is the first to show up."

Sure enough, the only member of Sinbad's Household that had fully assimilated with his Djinn's power had entered the court yard.

If she had this much energy and the waves wanted her out here then it should be fine. "Would you like to meet him now?"

Mori looked up at him shocked and expectant. "Is that okay???” It was like he was the center of her world in that moment.

"As long as you feel up to it." This was a good feeling.

She squeezed her bag in her arms. Mori seemed to become like a clingy child when she was unwell. If he had told her to go rest would she have begged him to stay and clung to him like she had before?

Her eyes grew determined. "I will have energy for about an hour. I'll go rest when I start to wear out, and I will ask for help if I need it -you don't have to remind me." Was she this direct because she was sick?

Drakon's deep voice came from behind Sinbad. "Welcome home, my friend."

The King turned to face his General. "It's good to be back."

"How did things end in Balbadd? When we heard about you loosing your metal vessels we got a little worried but it looks like you got them back." He laughed at the end. Drakon knew better than most that his King always manages to come out on top no matter what happens to him. He stiffened slightly. "Hmm? Who's this?” The General noticed Mori before Sinbad had a chance to answer his other questions.

Time for introductions then. "Drakon, this is Mori. She's the prophet I told Yam about." The King gestured towards her.

Mori put her bag down and when she stood up she had full composure. She offered a hand to the General. "It's an honor to meet you, Drakon. I read all about you when I read Fate." If Sinbad didn't know any better he would have no idea Mori had nearly died of fever only a few hours ago -she only looked tired. She was much better at acting than he expected. How long could she hide it though?

Drakon looked more dragon than man now making most uneasy around him, yet Mori didn't seem scared of him at all. Was it because she was hiding it or because she had read Fate? Actually, there was a strange glint in her eyes he couldn't place.

"Oh?” Drakon took her up on the handshake she offered. It was rare for someone not to flinch upon seeing him for the first time; Mori was definitely making a good first impression. "I must admit that I'm curious about this ability of yours."

The glint in Mori's eye grew into a full sparkle.

Their handshake didn't sit right with King Sinbad.

When their hands released, Mori put her hands in her pockets like she often did.

"Would you like an example?" Her smile didn't give anything away. "Before you were shipped out to Baal's Dungeon you tried to be noble and charming to Serendine but she responded by talking about how you followed her around 'like a baby duck' when you were little. Then she made you promise not to die." The waves were building around Mori again.

Serendine must have really said that. Drakon might not look human anymore, but Sinbad could still read his friend's expressions plain as day. Drakon was shocked by the first thing she said, and she was only just starting. Mori really was amazing.

"I know! Let me show you what I've got copied down so far" Mori squat down to her bag. She pulled out and opened a scroll, "Yeah. This one." She stood up with the scroll in hand and swayed a bit on the way up -she couldn't hide her condition fully.

Mori stepped between the King and his General, and turned so they were all facing the same direction. She raised the scroll so it would be easier to see. "Honestly, I had some other things to write down before I could start copying down Fate. I didn't start this until getting onto the ship, so please excuse the sloppiness."

Mori's handwriting looked rushed, like she couldn't get all of this out fast enough. Sinbad had barely gotten to start reading before she continued unrolling to reveal a detailed illustration of a family of three.

"That's-!" It was Sinbad and his parents when he was little.

Drakon glanced at his King, "Sin, are those people your parents?"

"Yup." Mori responded without looking up. "He looks a lot like Badrr, doesn't he?"

Back in Balbadd, Mori had said that she had read his life from his birth to his death, but it was different seeing undeniable proof.

She scrolled past more text and past another illustration and didn't stop until she got to a drawing of child Drakon following Serendine just like she had described. Mori continued scrolling through her work, and each image brought on more comments. There was an illustration of Sinbad meeting Yunan which she gratefully skipped past, a few of inside Baal and one from when Sinbad killed the Abare Narwhal in place of-

"Is this one of me? I look so young!!" The Imuchakk towered over all of them.

Mori whipped her head up. "Hinahoho?!" She wobbled from her quick movement. Sinbad placed a hand at her back to steady her; Mori didn't even react to his hand, instead she put all of her weight on it so she could stare up at the man behind them for a moment. That excited smile spread across her face. "Hello! It's nice to meet you. Please call me Mori."

Sinbad had purposefully gestured for Hina to stay quiet when he came up behind them so as not to distract Mori, but this was fine too.

"So this is where you went!" Ja'far came back from getting the three kids settled into their room.

Mori's smile was unwavering as she stood back on her own, unrolled the scroll to the next image and flipped it around for Ja'far to see. "We just got to your entrance. Care to join us?"

"Lady Prophet, I know you slept on your way here, but you were barely able to get off the ship before you had to lay down. Did you forget you're sick??"

Both Generals that had been looking at the scroll murmured questions about Mori's condition while the Prophet said nothing. At least Ja'far's words would have explained who Mori was for Hinahoho.

Ja'far's eyes wandered to the scroll in Mori's hands; his shoulders jolted when he realized what he was looking at. "Is that me??” He stepped closer to get a better look. After studying the image he looked up at the person holding it. "Did you make this?"

"Yes and yes."

The Prophet and the youngest General present watched each other for an opening.

Mori broke their silence. "I will go rest when I finish showing this scroll. We are almost done anyway."

Ja'far sighed. "Fine." He walked up next to Sinbad to join the group. Even if he tried to deny it, he couldn't fully hide his interest. "What is this scroll you've made?"

Mori turned

the scroll back around so the rest were able to see an image of when Ja'far attacked Sinbad in his sleep back when he was still an assassin. "Since I'm Sindria's Prophet now, I am copying down Fate so it will be easier to keep in order than thinking about it. This is just a draft though. After I have everything written down I'll go back and make it better."

That explanation was perfectly timed as two more Generals had join the group from behind -not that Mori seemed to notice.

Next was an image of Hina in a cave being surrounded by insects.

"Hold on. I never told anyone about that."

Mori stopped scrolling at Hinahoho's comment.

"What is this?" Sinbad asked his General.

But it was Mori who answered. "When Hinahoho first entered Valefor's Dungeon he was swarmed by Blooderflies."

"'Blooderflies?'" All six repeated back at her.

"Butterflies that drink blood," she explained confidently. When none of them responded she tensed. Sinbad could see her turn a little pink as she said to herself, "I thought it was a clever name."

"I think it's hilarious!" Pisiti said before breaking into giggles.

Mori jolted, "It's Pisti this time!" and started to look around for the source of the voice. She spotted the Artemyran that was shorter than herself and the man standing behind her. "And Sharkkan!”

Sinbad could see Yamuraiha and Spartos in the distance. As soon as they were all introduced he'd have Mori head to bed -end of the scroll or not; the waves from earlier would be reaching their peak soon and she had almost fell over twice already. Of course, he wouldn't mind catching her again, but he didn't want her pushing herself in her current condition.

The cocky prince had his hands on his hips. "Are you really a Prophet or our biggest fan?"

"Maybe I'm both," Mori answered with a smile. Her face was a little red.

Was she flirting with Sharkkan??

"That so?" Sharkkan smirked and leaned between Drakon and Hinahoho to get a closer look at her. "When they said there was a real prophet I was expecting some old hag, not a cutie like you."

Mori's eyes dilated and she gave a small gasp. Seeing Mori get embarrassed from compliments was something that Sinbad normally enjoyed, but this time it put a bad taste in his mouth. And did Sharkkan have to get so close to her?

Mori clearly agreed since she attempted to step away from the flirtiest of the Eight Generals. She must have forgotten about her own bag though, as she tripped over it and fell backwards right into Sinbad's arms.

Mori didn't try to stand back up at all. She looked up at the King and after a moment she hid her face behind the scroll she was holding. ”I-I am not a klutz!”

"Oh?" Sinbad smiled down at her. This was much better. "Then did you intentionally fall-”

Mori clapped a hand over his mouth. "No! Shut up! I blame you for this!” She pulled the scroll into her chest, but it unrolled anyway. She was doing a poor job of hiding her enjoyment of his teasing.

He laughed into her hand and she went quiet. Her blush started traveling down her neck since her face couldn't contain it all. This was a much stronger reaction than he normally got from her. He was clearly the only one that could pull such cute expressions out of Mori. Sinbad kissed the palm hiding his lips, and when she pulled it back to herself with an "Ah!" he knew he had to tease her more.

"Are you saying you're really swooning for me then, my Beautiful Prophet?"

"I-!" Mori couldn't bring herself to deny it and pulled the scroll back up to her face. She still wasn't trying to stand on her own or leave his arms.

"That's a good atmosphere."

*Whistles*

"You don't think ...?"

"OH MY-!"

See? No one could seduce a woman better than he could.

Mori finally found her rebuttal. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to be surrounded by your waves near constantly??"

He hadn't thought about that. Mori's waves were constantly opening new paths for Fate to flow. They have felt advantageous and that they would help him reach his goals. He wanted to keep her close to see what other changes she would make. And of course he had felt that she was going to live out the rest of her life in Sindria. But what did his waves feel like to her?

She looked up at him as angry as she was embarrassed. "I only slipped on the ramp and just now, and-and fell off of the bowsprit last night, because your waves crashed into me!”

That caught him off guard. "You knew it was me last night?"

"YES!" Mori's voice cracked at the end; she was still recovering so all this talking must have been wearing her out. "You're the only one who's waves feel like this." She broke eye as she got to the end.

Mori could identify him from his waves? There were certain people who's waves stood out to him as well -like hers-, but Sinbad was still not used to anyone else being able to feel the waves. This meant that he had kept quiet for nothing. It also meant that Mori had clung to him knowing who he was -maybe she wouldn't have accepted comfort from just anyone.

Her voice was almost inaudible. "When I realized it was you I was relieved. I've gotten hurt in the past when I was sick because I was alone so, ... thank you for taking care of me."

Just like when he had first learned that Mori could feels the waves, he was happy he was already holding her. He wanted to pull her closer like he had last time as well.

Yam let out a gasp while landing.

"WAIT!" Ja'far had been about to cut in to stop their antics anyway, but this was a completely different issue. "Mori, can you feel the waves of Fate like Sin??"

The King and the Prophet both stared at Ja'far for a few moments before answering in unison, "Yes."

((Hey everybody. Pretty sure you can guess why this chapter took so long. I just really wanted to draw so much of this chapter in comic form UwU Also, a bunch of life things got in the way. Now that everything is opening back up I can't work from home anymore. I'm very sensitive to the heat so I have to rest and cool down after each drive which really cuts into the time I have each day. -_-

Ja'far stared in disbelief at his King. "Sin, you knew?? Are you sure?"

With the mood completely ruined Sinbad helped Mori stand up properly. She grabbed his sleeve to keep herself steady and he left his arm around her waist just in case.

All of Sinbad's Generals -sans Masrur who had already left- were watching him. Mori had many abilities that made her extremely valuable, but they also made her a prime target to any of their enemies. The more her value is known the bigger the target on her will be, and Mori wasn't a fighter. Sinbad had already told all of them that Mori was a Prophet since she had already made that skill known to others, and it was something he wanted to use -there was no way he could hide it. His Generals had kept the fact that he could feel the waves a secret this whole time, so they would be able to keep her secret as well.

"Mori can definitely feel the waves of Fate. But you should know it is different from her ability as a prophet." He figured he should clear that up before they asked. Sinbad didn't know how they were different, but he had enough information to know they were.

Mori's voice was a little horse and on the weak side. "Since King Sinbad and Ja'far eavesdropped on my conversation with Aladdin there's no reason to hide it."

The King and his partner in crime froze. SHE KNEW HE HAD SPIED ON HER. Did his waves give him away?

Mori continued, "I can only read the Fates of realities that I am not currently in. It's not the same as different planets; It's a different universe with different rules." She rolled up the scroll while explaining. "The one I came from doesn't have Rukh, magoi, magic, or Djinn, but we did have 1500 to 2000 more years of scientific development compared to this world-" She was cut off by a short coughing fit.

Sinbad looked down at Mori. She was getting worse by the second. It was most likely fever and not embarrassment making her cheeks red in this moment. "It seems I've pushed you too hard while you are still recovering. My apologies." It was time to send the prophet to bed. He pulled at her waist lightly. "Let's get you to your room so you can rest."

Mori shook her head. "I have one more thing I want to say first."

"Fine." If it wasn't for the look in her eyes he would have refused her.

Mori's voice was getting worse so she had to take breaks in her speech. "I don't know what caused me to slip from my reality into this one, but I'm here now ... I fully intend to use my knowledge to help this world... But since I can't read this world's Fates anymore, I don't know how my changes will affect things..." She gripped the scroll like a life line. "As much as I'd like to answer the questions you all must have now... my voice is really starting to hurt, so I'd like to go rest."

Sinbad sighed. "Of course." It was a tough note to leave on, but her health came first. They'd have plenty of time to talk once she was better.

On a side note, I will be drawing Storpas (lol) in the next chapter. Don't worry, I didn't forget him.

It will probably be another 2 weeks or so before I finish the next chapter since I have less time to work on it now.))