#juno’s mind inventory

[sqwidgurl]

just read the lyrics of satoru’s theme song and ?? THAT MAN TAKES IT UP THE ASSS UP THE ASSSSSSSSSSSSSSS AND HE BE CRYING AND RUBBING LITTLE CIRCLES ON HIS FRAMED PICTURE OF SUGURU THEN WHEN ANYONE MENTIONS SOMETHING SUGURU USED TO DO HE SIGHS DRAMATICALLY AND GOES “MY BEST FRIEND USED TO DO THAT” yeah dude ur best friends ur not fooling ANYONEEEEE, it’s giving “oh they’re roommates”

[sqwidgurl]

this is so nanami coded i think i’m going to have a physical reaction

I called my brother a wifeguy and he was like “what’s that” so I told it’s a man who’s obsessed with his wife, and there was a pause as he went through all 5 stages of grief in about 20 seconds, and then said, “well what do other people do??”

[starsescape]

[Vote result from the last time: The weapon maintenance item Jill found is gun oil! One time use only. Used on a chosen weapon to give +1 skill buff while using it for a limited time. Item has been added to her inventory.]

“Done.” Juno close the panel and collect her tools. [Jill lost spare parts, she has one left for quick repairs.] The woman push herself back to her feet and hit the switch. Then a complete silence. Both of them wait. Slowly an electric hum start to emit from the power generator, it stutter and then became stable. The lights flicker and came on, the screen near the double doors show that the station shift from an emergency power to full power. The basement, the upstairs, all of it... The whole station should have working lights now and there wouldn’t be a need to converse energy anymore.

“You did it!” Jill laugh and Juno did the same. Before she knew it the two of them hug. The anticipation had been replaced by relief. Juno held her tightly before gasping and stepping away after she remember Jill’s condition. The moment of joy end with an awkward chuckle. “Let’s get going.” There was nothing more to do in the generator room.

[Vote end with a tie, the result was determined with a coin flip. Jill drink the energy drink while she wait for Juno to repair the generator. Drink reduce the debuffs to skills by 3 points for the duration of 3 story posts.]

Leaving the room they enter the winding corridor. A thought of checking the storage room again pass Jill’s mind now that it would have lights on, but she decide against it. We already waste enough time. There was no way of telling if they had lay unconscious on the break room floor for half an hour or for hours after the infected had their way with them. The evacuation had to start soon. The longer the survivors stay at the station the greater the risk of the infected attacking the second floor library became where they were hiding at.

They head towards the parking lot. If only I had the keycard... Jill saw a red light on the card reader that had previously been dark. With a keycard she could have gain access to the weapon storage, but it was too late to go looking for it now... Maybe I could ask someone to search for the card during the evacuation while they are on their way to the extraction point. The door to the shooting range was opposite to the weapon storage, yet they move past it. Any unnecessary risk or detour was too much.

Taking the turn on the corridor they saw the door to the parking left open. Someone or something had moved through here since the last time Jill had come this way. Jill motion Juno to be quiet as she checked her gun. Jill had left the grenade launcher in the item box in favor of keeping the pistol Juno had took from the corrupt cop who was still upstairs laying unconscious. 7 bullets... Might be enough. Jill took a deep breath and took a peek through the open door.

The parking lot seem empty at first, but then Jill notice three infected. They were still near the spot where they had claim the guard as their latest victim. There was no sign of the licker, so it must have gone elsewhere and left the door open in its wake. It must have gone upstairs... Jill just hope that the licker wouldn’t end up in the way of the planned evacuation route.

Jill motion Juno to come take a look. “See where those three are gathered?” She point towards the infected. “There is a guard somewhere on the floor, they should have a gun and... And a key to my cuffs or the cells. If not the other set of keys should be by his desk at the entrance to the cellblock.” Jill remain her calm tone as she spoke, but a blush spread to her cheeks as she had to acknowledge the way she look right now with the handcuffs and the dog collar around her neck. “I will draw their attention, you run for the gun and the keys.” She explain having no confidence that she would be able to take out the infected on her own anymore. “Then we take them out together.”

Juno listen carefully and then nod. She knew what to do.

Jill step out at first and walk to the other side of the parking lot before slamming her fists on the hood of a parked car to get the attention of the infected. Excited snarls echo in the parking lot as all three turn to look and head towards Jill. Once the infected were far enough from where the fallen guard was Juno slip in and head towards the spot Jill had point out for her.

While Juno rush to loot the guard Jill took aim at one of the infected. She didn’t wait for them to get close. [Skill challenge 8, Jill fails with firearms down to 6] The bullet hit a wall on the opposite side and the infected were still coming. Jill held her ground and try again this time waiting them to get close enough for an easy shot. [Skill challenge 4, Jill succeeds with firearms down at 6] One of the infected drop down and slump on the floor, yet the last two still head towards her.

[Randomized outcome] A muzzle flash lit up the other side of the parking lot. The second infected drop down to reveal Juno holding the gun.

The last infected reach out to Jill. She pull the trigger. [Skill challenge 2, Jill succeeds with firearms down at 6] She step back as the infected fell. Jill aim at it until she was sure that it wouldn’t get back up. The parking lot was secure. 4 bullets left... Probably not enough. However, the desperation didn’t have time to settle when Juno shout to Jill.

“Hey, look what I found!” She held out two sets of keys: One for the handcuffs and the other for the cellblock. After enjoying the relieved expression on Jill’s face long enough Juno stroll up to her.

Jill offer her hands to Juno who unlock the handcuffs one at the time before taking them off and tossing them across the parking lot. Jill smile as she watch them fly and hit the floor. “Thank you.”

Juno stay quiet, but couldn’t hold back a smile. “I’m ready to leave this place behind. Are you?” She ask as she place the keys to the cellblock in Jill’s hand, Juno surely didn’t have use for them.

“See if you can start the van.” They would need a bigger car for the evacuation to work. “It should fit everyone.”  Even with the police van it would be a tight fit with all the survivors in it. “There is something I need to do before I call Marvin and tell him to get everyone ready for the evacuation.”

Jill’s words made Juno raise an eyebrow, but she didn’t ask what Jill had to do. “Sure. Just be quick, okay?” She walk past Jill and head for the van. “I will be done in no time.”

Leaving Juno to work her magic Jill made her way to the locker room. One last time... It was time to take the role of an S.T.A.R.S. officer for the last time. It was time to change her outfit.

Jill grimaced as she peeled the sticky top off of her skin. After everything that had happened to her, there was a thin film of sweat that soaked through the thin fabric and clung to her skin. Not to mention all of the other fluids that she’s encountered. As she pulled her top over her round belly, she rested a hand over it. If she held still long enough she could feel movement, or at least what she felt was movement. A clear sign that she had to do something or the eggs inside of her would hatch. Her skirt was unbuttoned and pulled off easily. Jill tried not to react as she saw her soaked tights. She told herself that it was sweat from all the things she had to do but a traitorous part of her mind told her that she loved every lewd part of what was happening around her. Before she could direct her thoughts, a few of her fingers wandered to between her legs and started to rub herself but a quick shake of her head shook her out of it. Moving quickly, Jill put on her S.T.A.R.S. uniform, letting its comforting familiarity calm her. Jill pulled the shirt over her head, struggling a bit to maneuver it around the dog collar still locked around her neck. Then she slid on the pants over her legs. It made very conscious about her lack of panties but at least now she had something more than a skirt. Finally her armor snapped on with a comforting sound, bringing her into focus. Sure her bloated belly stretched the already tight top around her but the small amount of armor made her feel safe.

Closing her locker for the last time she took a deep breath. Closing her eyes she thought back to those who she had lost when she last wore her uniform, yet wearing it made her feel like they were still here. The mansion had taken away so much from her and now what had happened there repeat itself in the city. At least she would save a few from this nightmare. It was time to do her duty as a S.T.A.R.S. officer for the last time. People were counting on her. Releasing that breath Jill open her eyes. For S.T.A.R.S.

As she step out of the locker room Jill call Marvin to start preparing for the evacuation. She told him to wait until she would return to the library to help him protect the civilians on their way to the extraction point. The survivors would make their way down from the second floor to the west wing of the first floor, then cross the main hall to the east wing and from there back up to the second floor in order to reach the stairs down to the back yard parking lot where they would be picked up. The RPD was a nightmare to navigate even before the outbreak. Hopefully all of them will make it to the extraction point... Jill didn’t doubt Marvin’s leadership, but it was a long route they had to walk and they need all the help they could get. “See you soon. Over.” She end the call.

Jill walk up to the police van to see that it had its lights on and hear its engine hum. Then she heard something else: A radio message. “ -Food and shelter.” The connection was spotty and there was a bit of static. Circling around Jill came to the driver’s side of the car to see Juno in the driver’s seat intently listening to the radio. The message repeat from the start. “The Raccoon High school has food and shelter. The Bom-” There was static that cut off a part of the message. “-rl militia keeps you safe.”

Jill kept quiet for a moment before saying out loud what she thought. “Guess that is one option for you if there is no way out of the city.” Looking up at Juno she nod towards the safety shutter that was down and block the exit. “Can you get that open? I will check the cellblock in the meantime.” She hand over the repair parts just in case if it was damaged [Jill lost the repair parts]. The light on the control panel was lit up unlike the first time Jill was here. If they hadn’t turn on the generator there wouldn’t have been a way out of the parking lot with a car. The ramp behind the shutter would take them to the back yard parking lot where they would pick up the survivors once they get there.

Another order from Jill made Juno roll her eyes. “Yes, madam.” She groan as if she was annoyed, but in truth she felt good that at least one of the cops she knew was a good one... And good to look at too. Juno look Jill up and down once before closing the door with a wink. “I like a girl in a uniform.” Before Jill could answer she pull the van over to the safety shutter and jump out to see if she could get it open.

With a blush and a chuckle Jill shook her head. She is shameless... In truth she like that about Juno. It was a shame that they would have to part ways so soon. Leaving her alone in the parking lot Jill enter the cellblock.

Reaching the check point where the guard had been posted Jill open the desk. Yes! There was the key to the cabinet that was used to store confiscated items before they were either given back or moved to the evidence room. She couldn’t hold back a grin as she open the cabinet next to the guard’s desk [Jill regain the confiscated items]. Taking what she thought she need for the evacuation Jill close the cabinet. She was ready for it, but first she had a promise to keep... She would have to bid goodbye to Ben.

[Vote for what Jill should do]

[Should Jill use the gun oil?]

[Vote for what items Jill should take]

[What Jill should do about the prisoners?]

Prisoners description.

[Vote if Jill ask Rita a favor during the radio call]

Rita’s description.

[xadoheandterra]

Series: The Heir, The Reader, and Clay

Title: Run It Again Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI | XVII | XVIII | XIX | XX Enabler: @kingbob2-0 Beta: @claire-the-queer-dragon Characters: Malik al-Sayf, Faheem al-Sayf, Desmond Miles, Maria Thorpe, Kadar al-Sayf Pairings: Altair/Malik Tags: Faheem Is An Impulsive Shit, Consequences, Desmond Is Cute, Malik is Over Protective Father, Kadar In Denial Summary: They hadn’t found an answer yet, and Layla was impatient despite the promise of the Grey being timeless in its nature. She didn’t want to have to search for an answer that might never come–so she made another suggestion. Why not just change it? Why not counter the Isu influence on the Pieces of Eden where it counted, and counter what Juno inevitably did to the Eye in the Grand Temple?

It was all the push that Desmond needed to let himself be just that bit more selfish. So selfish he chose to be, and there was one moment where the Isu’s hold on the Pieces of Eden had a profound effect–the Levantine Brotherhood. Altair Ibn La’Ahad. Al Mualim. There was just one problem–Desmond was eight, a child, and didn’t remember dying.

Layla at least had his back, even if she was just a bit fashionably late.

 "Stay within my sight, Desmond!" Malik shouted as Desmond darted off into the market with a laugh. He shook his head just a bit fond; the boy had been cooped up in the Bureau for some time now, he deserved the chance at fresh air and fun. The soft laugh from his side had Malik glance over to where Faheem followed after him, just a bit behind on quiet footsteps and strangely deferent. Normally this would bother Malik, to have his father at his back, yet now--after days with Faheem being polite, days of bitten off choice words and a softness around Desmond, Malik is not quite bothered or uncomfortable but merely unsettled.

It felt like Faheem was his father again, and Malik didn't know what to do with that thought. Faheem hadn't acted much like his father since Kadar had been born, and even before then this side of him had grown rarer and rarer the older Malik had gotten; the more children his mother miscarried. Malik forced the thoughts to the side as he kept his eye on Desmond while he searched the market for necessary supplies and listened to the local gossip.

"He is...very free," Faheem said, words soft from behind him, and Malik fought back the urge to sigh.

"Yes," Malik said, and tried not to take the words as criticism. So far Faheem hadn't acted like he disapproved of Malik's methods, but his words often painted that shade in Malik's mind. "It is good for him to be a child. He has not...had much opportunity." Faheem hummed noncommittally as Malik looked over the paper on offer from Zahid. He was thankful that Faheem let him quietly haggle a price, and then arrange an agreement for the paper to be picked up by his Novices at a later date, before they moved on.

"Jerusalem is not a safe city to be free in," Faheem said as they moved along, and Malik hummed his own reply as he watched Desmond dance through the crowd on silent feet, a wide grin across his face as he stalked an invisible prey. "Given the whispers I have been hearing...."

Malik shifted the Book under his arm, the one he used to mark off what money he owed, who owed him, and allowed him to keep a basic inventory, and carefully knotted it back into place in its sling. It was not as thick as the Book of Accounts that was precious for the Brotherhood, but thick enough to provide slight difficulty in handling one-handed. He said, carefully, "And what have you seen and heard?" Malik would not deny that he was curious as to Faheem's thoughts--this milder man who curbed his impulsivity in ways that Malik could scarcely believe, who was so like and unlike the father that Malik had grown accustomed to.

"I do not quite believe that the job I was tasked to perform is as straightforward as I was led to think," Faheem said softly, and he shifted so that he was closer to being even with Malik's stride, to allow his words to be spoken quietly. "The task before me feels more personal in nature now."

Malik tilted his head back in thought; he knew Faheem referenced Maria, and the assignment to kill her as she was a supposed threat to him and his. In truth, Maria was a possible threat to the Brotherhood; Malik was not fool enough to ignore the very real chance that Maria already knew who and what he was. However, she had her uses, and her views often aligned in ways that Malik's own did--enough so that it led Malik to believe she was with the Templars solely because they accepted who and what Maria was, and that they were the only option available to her at the time. He couldn't help but wonder if she were to be given the chance...but he pushed the thoughts aside, alongside the twinge that came with every thought about how he skirted betrayal of the Brotherhood enough as it was.

"Do you believe what you have been told is true?" Malik asked instead, and for a moment Faheem kept his own consul, words trapped behind teeth. Malik eyed the way his father's face furrowed, brow down as he pressed lips together. His hands were fists at his side. He wondered what he thought about--being lied to? The threat to his pride?

Softly Faheem said, "No," and Malik felt a bit of tension ease from his spine. "Malik I--"

Whatever Faheem chose to say next cut off with a loud curse throughout the market, and a snarled, "You damned brat!" that drew both their attentions with sharp clarity. It took only Malik to hear Desmond cry out before he moved, feet assured as his gaze sought his son and found himself in the grip of some fool guard with nothing better to do than to harass children. Malik didn't even think--he moved, feet swift as he pushed through the crowd, ignored the surprised shouts. He did not see the way Faheem turned and gestured into the shadows before he followed after Malik as silent as a deadly shade. No, Malik's gaze was solely on Desmond and the way the guard gripped his arm, tight, and how there were tears in Desmond's eyes as he tried to pull away.

Malik's heart stuttered in his chest when he heard Desmond cry, faintly, before those golden-brown eyes alighted on him and Desmond shouted, "Papa!" The cry hurt in a familiar way that Malik could not name and he had to ignore the way his anger curled within him at that thought as he reached out and grasped the guard's wrist. His fingers curled, just above the edge of the gloved hand that held his son, tightly as he let out a low, growled out, "Unhand my son."

"You are the parent of this thief?"

Malik's grip tightened; he could hear the guard grunt in response. It took effort to keep the sneer from his face, to restrain himself from the urge to grasp tight, to dig his fingers in until the guard had no choice but to let Desmond's arm go--and then Malik could bend it back and snap it. It took effort to keep the violence changed down as he stared, heavily, at the man before him and tried to formulate a response that wasn't putting his dagger through the man's eye.

"He did not steal anything!" the merchant protested, loudly, between the stare off and the guard looked away--looked to the man with a sneer on his face. Malik looked to Desmond out of the corner of his eye, watched how tears were pooled in amber eyes. His nostrils flared as he forced himself to breathe. "As I have been trying to tell you!" For a moment Malik spared a kind thought to the merchant who was entirely ignorant that if Desmond wanted to, he could certainly take what he wanted without the man being any wiser.

"I saw him," the guard spat. "He's a clever little shit. You wouldn't be the first person he swindled."

Fuck it, Malik thought, and shifted his grip to dig his fingers into the man's wrist sharp enough to force him to let go of his son. The guard grunted, surprised, and then Malik pressed--a hand touched his shoulder as Desmond wrapped himself around Malik's waist. It was enough to drag Malik's attention from the guard to the tall woman beside him. He blinked, rapidly. He had not even heard her approach.

"Peace," Maria said, words careful as she glanced to Faheem who stood behind Malik, nearest to Desmond, tense as a bowstring. She glanced to Desmond next, tears in his eyes as he clung tightly to Malik's robes, and then to Malik and stared him right in the eye with her lips pressed together firmly.

"S-Sir," the guard stuttered with the faintest hint of strain to his voice. Malik let go of the man quickly, reached his hand back to press against Desmond's head as he urged the boy and stepped away from the guard, the stall, and Maria who stepped forward with a stern glance. Malik watched her, eyes sharp as she addressed the guard.

"What seems to be the problem, Josef?" Maria asked; Malik could feel Faheem shift behind him, fingers pressed against the small of his back and other hand against Desmond at his side. Malik spared his father a glance as Maria spoke with the guard in soft tones that gradually grew harsher and harsher in context until with a sharp turn Maria twisted back around and dragged Malik's attention back to her.

"Maria," Malik greeted, voice tight as Maria stepped up toward him and Desmond.

"Malik," Maria inclined her head. "How fares the translation?" Faux politeness; Malik could understand. His eyes darted to the guard, who looked frustrated, before they returned back to Maria.

With a heavy sigh Malik said, "Slow. The author changes languages on a dime. I have got at least the first several pages in a rough state that I can share with you back at the shop, if you wish."

"Maybe later," Maria agreed. "For now..." her gaze turned toward Desmond and Malik rubbed his fingers over Desmond's head as the boy looked up at Maria, tears still in his eyes. Maria, thankfully, crouched down until she was level with Desmond. It set him at ease, which helped ease some of Malik's own tension. "Desmond. Can you show me your pockets?"

Desmond pressed his face into Malik's hip with a mumbled, "I didn't take anything."

"I know that, sweetheart," Maria's words were spoken so softly that Malik almost had to strain to hear them. "I am sorry to ask this, but please?"

Malik pressed his lips together, furious at the need for this, but Desmond complied with little issue and carefully turned out his own pockets for Maria to see. As both Malik and Maria knew there was nothing, although the guard seemed rather like he disagreed given how he turned his gaze to Malik next with a snarl.

"Obviously the brat hid them in the cripples--" Josef barely got the word cripple out before Faheem had brushed passed Malik and had a blade held at the man's throat, lips pulled back into a large snarl.

"Call my son a cripple again, I dare you," Faheem said lowly, voice almost a growl. Malik's heart stalled in his chest at the words. He couldn't help the way he jolted forward with a sharp, "Fa--Father!" or how he stiffened when Maria carefully pushed the dagger away from Josef's neck, worried that Faheem would turn the blade on her next.

"Josef that is enough," Maria said sharply. "Malik is a well respected scholar and cartographer." There is a moment of pause, and then Josef huffed and turned away without a word. For a minute longer they stood there, Faheem with his blade out, Maria to make sure it was turned away from anyone, and Malik with his hand on Desmond and heart up in his throat. Then Faheem slipped the blade away back into the fold of his robes, Maria relaxed her stance, and Malik felt the bone weariness settle into him.

"I think," Malik said into the silence, "that is enough shopping for today. Tea, Maria?"

"Certainly," Maria agreed--she did not take her eyes off of Faheem, who stared back at her nearly with the same expression. With a heavy breath Malik nodded once, and hand still on Desmond, only now his shoulder and not his head, and turned to head back to the Bureau. Tea sounded quite honestly lovely.

Kadar woke up to the rumble of a cart as it vibrated slightly unpleasantly against his skull. He didn't groan, but only because he'd been trained to wake up silent in unfamiliar spaces. Instead Kadar shifted and slapped a palm against the grain of a cart and blinked eyes open to take in his surroundings as best he could. His head throbbed enough to be noticed, but not enough to cause him undue difficulty as he looked from the pile of travel sacks that he recognized as his and the other novices. They were piled next to where Kadar had laid, a few of their clothes piled to make a softer space for Kadar to rest upon. Against the edge of the cart, next to the tarp that covered the back, rested Jamal. He snored softly, curled up in his slumber.

With a heavy sigh Kadar pushed himself up into a seated position. He rubbed at his head, and then rooted around for one of the waterskins to handle his parched throat and ease the ache of hunger at least somewhat that had settled into him. It helped to ease the slight ache in his head and with a heavy breath Kadar capped the waterskin off and set it down. For a moment Kadar wondered if he should wake Jamal, nudge the boy with a boot and get some answers--a hissed laugh in his ear, breath on his neck, had Kadar flinch. He glanced to his side, but no one was there. There was no ghastly visage of a new-dead Merchant Prince, or any other face beside him. Jamal snorted, twisted from his curled position onto his side, and Kadar breathed a slightly bit easier.

There was nothing there; it was in his head, Kadar knew that. Granted he didn't know what it was, really--had he been poisoned? Had the Merchant Prince gotten him in some way and he hadn't noticed? Kadar did not remember the touch of a blade on his skin, or being wounded in any way. He hadn't taken anything from the palace to drink, or eat, either. He had nicked a few things out of the Bureau, as he waited, but the food there had been cleaned and none of it had been bad from what Kadar could tell, so he doubted it was something he ate. With a heavy sigh Kadar massaged along his eyes, and then pressed himself upward toward the crack in the tarp that would lead to the front of the cart where Omar and Numair were.

The light burned when it hit Kadar's eyes, and he hissed slightly. The two startled shouts were loud, and Kadar grunted at the sudden spike of noise, at the way it throbbed in time with the sunlight. He muttered a short, "Quiet," to the twins who quickly quieted down. The cart rumbled for a moment longer, and then the swaying, jolting motion came to a sharp stop. Kadar decided the sunlight was not his friend and retreated back into the cart itself, head pressed between his knees. He flinched at the loud clatter of Numair and Omar as the boys climbed their way into the crowded back. It startled Jamal awake, who likewise flailed and made his own loud noise, sudden in sharp--until all three were unintelligible nonsense that bounced around him, painfully.

Kadar grunted a sharp, "Quiet!" which eased things quickly, thankfully--the silence was blessed and Kadar felt himself relax slightly, lean back and able to pull his head out from between his knees. One of the twins touched his forehand, hands warm, to which Kadar squinted at the two of them as they crowded all together.

"No fever," Omar reported dutifully, then tilted his head. "How does your head feel?"

"Like I overslept," Kadar rasped slightly. Despite the water to ease his parched throat, he still sounded like he hadn't had anything to drink in days. Kadar grimaced at the thought and massaged at his eyes. "Where are we?"

"Not far from Acre," Numair said, slowly. "We've been on the road for two days, now."

"Mm, and me?" Kadar hummed and squinted a look at each of them.

"You've been out for that and a half," Jamal's voice was bright and Kadar narrowed his eyes at the teen. "We fed and watered you! Sort of."

"Broth," Omar said shortly, "when we stopped to rest. Water when we were moving."

Kadar hummed and accepted the handed waterskin to take a sip of some more water. "Report," he said once he eased his parched throat some more. Quite quickly the three fell into formation to drop a report, and Kadar listened as they described what had happened once he lost consciousness.

None of them were certain what had caused it, but the running suspicion was some sort of contact poison they all didn't know about that Abu'l had gotten him with in the mess of the kill. Jamal left the group once they'd gotten out of the palace to drop the bloody feather off at the Bureau while Omar and Numair handled Kadar and their supplies. Between the three of them and about an hours worth of work they eventually made it out of the city with the guards on them only once--and they played up a story about a drunken older brother that had Kadar quietly promise to never step foot in Damascus again. He hoped Altair did not find out about it--Kadar would never live it down if he did, and he cringed with the thought of what extra training Malik and Altair might foist on him afterward.

With a bit of work the three got their hands on a cart, and then a horse, and after that they kept to the quieter roads. Jamal watched Kadar during the day, the twins took turns during the night, and for two days since that had been the routine. Kadar accepted the offered bit of bread from the twins as their report began to wind down, and carefully he nibbled on the piece as he contemplated their next plan of action.

"We need to ditch the cart before we reach Acre," Kadar said shortly. "It was a danger to have it this long--" he held a hand up to forestall any sort of protest, "--but it was a risk we needed. We do not need it going forward."

"We're about a day on foot from Acre," Numair said quietly, and Kadar nodded.

"Once in the city, same formation. Seek information in the crowds and find an abandoned or disused location to spend time in," Kadar said to each of them.  "We mark up the maps, and I will compile a drop for Altair in case we miss him." He'd hidden the last one in a loose rock near the Bureau. Kadar had no doubt Altair would find it immediately.

For a moment there was silence, and then quietly Jamal asked, "We are not doing that again, are we?" in reference to the messy assassination.

Kadar shook his head. He said a short, "No," and felt breath on his neck, a faint laugh in his ear that had him grimace. He added, sharply, "That was a one time thing," and waved his hand with the piece of bread before he stuffed it into his mouth. Kadar watched as the Novices relaxed, slightly, and he nodded his head. "Rest up for a brief spell, and then gather what we need to go."

With a grunt Kadar crawled his way out of the cart, hissed at the way the sun pierced his eyes, and searched for a safe spot to relieve himself.

Malik pulled the kettle off of the fire and began to steep the leaves of the tea, plainly ignoring the tension that surrounded him thick in the air by sheer will and the fact that he could hear Desmond humming happily to himself. The way Maria and his father stared at one another was not truly his concern, after all. Faheem had proven he would not kill the woman without clear provocation, despite with the Master had tasked him with. That was all Malik needed--and silently he prayed it stayed that way, as he was certain Desmond would not take well to Maria's sudden departure from their lives. Quiet, Malik moved the tea to the table, and shifted around Hakim who sat next to Desmond as he looked the boy over.

Hakim would really do well to spend time under Kareem back at Masyaf. The boy had skill and talent that Malik knew Kareem would love to nourish. With one eye on the boys he picked up the cups for the tea and set them in front of Maria and Faheem, and then poured the steeped drink into their cups before he removed the leaves from the pot and sat himself down with his own cup of tea in hand. For a moment Malik contemplated on his words, on what to say--

"Thank you for your aid," Faheem spoke, the words bitten off like they tasted sour in his mouth, before Malik had the chance to put together his thoughts. Malik arched his eyebrows in surprise.

"Malik is a dear friend," Maria replied back, a sharp edge to her smile. "His son a clever and good child. I could not bear to see such injustice happen."

Malik glanced to his father, for a moment surprised and unsure. The man had done plenty to leave him baffled these past few days, and his chest still felt just a bit too tight with the memory of Faheem with blade in hand, defending him. Where had the man who called him cripple not too long ago gone? The one who couldn't take any of his decisions with a lick of trust, who thought Malik useless? Malik's grip on his cup fluctuated as his thoughts bounced around in a jumbled and confused mess of things. He looked to where Desmond sat, cheerfully scribbling while Hakim looked him over and thought--what was it about this boy? This wonderful, miracle child that brought a man Malik had not been sure he would see again to the fore--perhaps Altair was right to claim Desmond as possibly a djinn in whispered conversations late at night, but Malik could not see the boy in such a light. Not when every action of the clearly traumatized child had only benefited Malik in some way, be they a trick or not.

The inattention, brought on by his own tumbling thought, shattered the moment Faheem continued to speak. With sharp words barely edged in cruelty and accusation Faheem said, "Funny how a man native to this land listened so clearly to one of you white crusaders."

Maria herself was quick to snap back with a clear, "Funny how you respond so quickly with blade. One might wonder what it is you do for a living." Her grin was just as sharp as her words, her eyes focused entirely on Faheem, and Malik's gaze bounced between them, a tightness knotting from his gut to his throat. For a moment Malik wondered if there were to be bloodshed at his table--he would need to put a stop to this, he realized. He needed to speak up--to--

"Hm, how like a Templar to question a mans honor," Faheem's words were brash, sudden, as he laid his hand out on the table for all and sundry to see. Malik tightened his grip on his cup, already on his way to stand and put a stop to this--chair scrapped against the tile as he moved, mouth open--

"How like an Assassin to brandish baseless accusations," Maria retorted in the ensuing screech of Malik's chair, as she laid her own hand bare to the den of Assassins as she pushed herself upright. Her height towered over Faheem, over Malik, and she kept a narrowed eyed stare down upon Faheem, eyes dark and dangerous.

The tension in the air between them was thick as Malik set his cup down onto the table sharply from where he stood, his mouth opened to say a blistering reprimand to the group. Desmond interrupted here, arm clenched in Hakim's hands as the teen felt around the deep hand-shaped bruise. He spoke with a childish voice full of bright cheer and yet somehow still stern, "Maria's not a Templar."

The room went silent. For a moment no one said anything, but the tension bred tight and Malik felt more than thrown. First Desmond had been grabbed by one of Majd Addin's sycophants--and Malik knew that fool, had threatened him once before--and now, now Faheem picked a fight with Maria and the unspoken agreement between him and the Templar woman had been snapped like a twig. His father was being defensive of Malik didn't help at all. It made his throat feel tight, and his head dizzy, and it was hard to breathe with everything going on.

"Sweetheart..." Maria started, half shifted to go to Desmond. Faheem easily moved in response, a burst of overprotective rage across his face as Malik gripped the table tight and tried to focus on reigning himself back.

"You're not," Desmond said with a pout. "Templars are mean an' rude an' they hurt you an' make you do things when you don't wanna an' they hide it all with pretty words an' pretty lies then tell you otherwise when you say no. They use you up an' spit you out an' suddenly your the next subject an' you don't get no choice." Desmond turned to Faheem next and continued, "An' Brothers not better. It's all listen, listen, listen, an' no choices you gotta do this an' learn this an' be this an' you're special an' important an' sacred duty an' stuff that doesn't make sense cuz its supposed to be free will but free will for everyone 'cept you an'--ow."

The tension broke; Malik could breathe suddenly as he moved quickly around the table to Desmond's side, crouched down and glanced to Hakim who had a frown on his face. Malik didn't have to say anything, as Hakim looked up, stood up, and carefully moved Desmond's arm in front of his chest as he said shortly, "Fracture. It's stable, but I need to splint this before it gets worse."

"S'fine," Desmond whined, and Malik quickly put a hand in his hair and tilted the boy's head around so that Desmond looked to him as he spoke.

"Desmond, child," Malik spoke softly, noted the way there were tears in Desmond's eyes, "a broken arm is not fine. You will go with Hakim and he will splint it so that you will heal."

"But Maria--"

"Maria will be fine," Malik said. "I will see to it, habibi. You need to go with Hakim now. It hurts, doesn't it?" For a moment Desmond said nothing, then carefully nodded his head. "Let Hakim take care of you. You will feel better once the arm is properly taken care of."

For a moment Desmond looked at Malik, tears in his eyes as he searched Malik's face for something, and then he asked a second later, "My knife lessons?"

Malik smiled, a little strained as he rubbed Desmond's head. He watched the way Desmond leaned into his hand as he said softly, "I will let you watch me, but until you are healed there will be no practical lessons, child, and you will not heal if you do not go with Hakim. Understood?" For a moment Malik waited, and then Desmond slowly nodded and hopped off his seat. He grasped Hakim's robes with his uninjured arm and looked to Malik, and then Maria and Faheem.

"Don't hurt Maria," Desmond said, voice serious as he looked at the adults in the room. There was something to his eyes, a sharp gleam that was similar to the golden gaze when he slipped into his special sight, but also at the same time not. His voice was a bit distant, a bit quiet, as he said, "Without him the world burns in the sun."

Malik's chest tightened, eyes wide, and not entirely because of the half-here way Desmond spoke either. He'd heard the boy speak in such a manner before, half-thought ramblings that had terrified him. He'd also heard the boy refer to people in the way that he saw the world, and to hear Desmond put in words what Altair cautiously hinted at after that first meeting. Malik waited, crouched by Desmond's chair until Desmond was out of the room, and then he stood and breathed out slowly.

"Faheem," Malik said, voice soft, quiet, and yet Malik fought back the urge to grit his teeth at the way hate bubbled into his chest now that Desmond was out of the room.

For a moment silence, and then softly, "Dai," came from Faheem, who had the clear understanding of what state Malik was in the way a father knew his son.

"Make him pay," Malik said. He did not need to clarify who, he knew he didn't as he stared at Desmond's chair. Faheem said nothing in reply, and Malik waited--waited for Faheem to protest, for Faheem to make clear that he would not leave his side, that he would not let Malik be alone with Maria. He waited, and when the silence grew longer Malik tilted his head and stared at his father with a narrowed gaze. "Make him pay, Faheem, while I handle your fuck up."

Faheem stared back for half-a-second before he averted his gaze with a whispered, "Dai," before he moved on silent steps out of the kitchen, out of the room, out of the Bureau. Malik watched him go for a moment before he turned to face Maria, who stood still eyes focused on the door Desmond and Hakim and slipped through. She was not tense, and Malik felt both parts pissed at that--she was in an Assassins Den and was a Templar how dare she feel completely comfortable--and comforted because maybe he would not lose a friend, maybe he had not courted disaster in his own foolish handling of this--this person.

"He's gifted," Maria said into the silence, and Malik clenched his fist at his side. Anger warred with respect as he said, "And?" with just a bit more sharpness than he anticipated.

Maria turned to look to Malik, now, and pressed her lips together. Malik fought back the urge to sneer and snarl at her, at the threat she brought into his space, to his son, because he knew about it already so what worth was it to show that now? "It is only an observation, Malik," Maria tried to sound calm, to soothe, but Malik shifted and he felt himself tighten up with a snarl. "I am you friend, Malik."

For a moment Malik fought to regain control of himself, and then realized he couldn't. Not right now, not with this, with Faheem and Desmond injured and--he itched for a fight, for a way to burn off this rage in his heart. He couldn't go after the target himself; Malik had a reputation to maintain in the city and if he were to wander off and kill the man himself in all the ways he wanted. No, he could not do this now, not here, not without the risk of his need to hurt someone. He could outright just kill her and then Desmond--no. Malik ground his teeth together, closed his eyes, and said as gentle as he could in this moment which was not very gentle at all, "Get out, Maria."

"Malik...."

"I cannot do this right now," Malik said, words sharp. "Get out." He softened his words with a near whispered, "Please."

Maria inclined her head, said a soft, "You have my word on my silence," before she left the Bureau as Malik asked.

[infernwetrust]

In His Office [Michael Langdon x Fem Reader]

Summary: A recent change in your shift allows for you to have lunch with Michael at his brand new dealership.

Warnings: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. Swearing. I think that’s about it.

WC: 2.5k

A/N: This idea came to me recently today lol. We all know Michael Langdon isn’t a stranger to a little office sex. I imagined this one with F&R Michael. Thank you for reading! -Juno

Michael walked around his dealership, hands clasped behind his back as he silently studied his employees at work. Not wanting Michael to always stress over his job as the anti-Christ, you convinced him to pursue something else that he was interested in. Why not start a business, he had thought. He decided that he would own a decent sized car lot, divided into 3 sections; luxury, middle-class, and pre-owned vehicles. The business took off well as he constantly won awards throughout the year whether it be for most sales or outstanding customer service.

He could feel the eyes burning into him as he walked passed, from employees and customers alike. He knew he was attractive. He knew that some of his workers wanted to screw him, but he paid their nasty thoughts no mind. He dressed in all black as usual. A black button up shirt that hugged his figure perfectly, tight black jeans, sporting the Michael Kors belt you had gotten him for his birthday, and his favorite pair of black dress shoes to go with it. He never went anywhere without wearing the platinum chain, which proudly displayed his last name, around his neck. That was also a gift from you.

His hands shifted behind his back and his thumb brushed against his wedding band, causing him smile a little bit as he finished walking the floor, returning to his office and taking a seat at his desk. He looked down at the wedding band, reminding himself of the passionate encounter that the two of you had shared a few nights ago.

"Michael..." you whispered against his lips as he lay comfortably between your legs.

"Hmm, my love?" he questioned, his blue eyes meeting yours, his lips not moving an inch away from yours.

"I want you to wear your ring while you make love to me. I want to see it. I want to be reminded of your commitment to me." He smiled against your lips because funny enough, it was something he always thought of too. Normally he would take it off to avoid it flying off his finger due to any sudden hand movements while the two of you got lost in each other.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

"I have your weekly sales report, Mr. Langdon." his lovely Ms. Mead said, walking into his office and gently placing the folder on his desk. He smiled warmly at her, taking a bite of his now cold bagel before moving the folder closer to him. It was only right that he made her head of the financials. She was so good with numbers and always had Michael's files correctly placed together.

"Now you know you don't have to call me that." he said to her. "Michael, Mike, even son, works just fine for me."

"I know." she said. "But we're in your place of business, my dear. I will always address you with respect."

"You're too good to me, you know that?" All she could do was smile. "Took care of me when no one else would, never left my side, always provided for me. I won't ever be able to thank you enough." She was going to say something else when Michael's front desk receptionist walked into his office, his shirt drenched in coffee.

"Jeremy what the fuck happened to you?"Michael questioned, furrowing his eyebrows as one of his first impression's of his establishment was now completely a mess. "You can't fucking greet people like that. What type of business do you think I'm running here?"

"There's a woman, in the lobby." he began, out of breath. "She keeps demanding that I direct you to her office and that she's your wife. I think she's crazy, but I tried letting her know that you're a very busy man and that she'd have to call in advance to meet with you, but she wouldn't take no for an answer." A smile crept its way across Michael's face as he snapped his fingers, restoring Jeremy's outfit back to its original state. Yup. That was you.

"Yeah, that sounds like my wife." Michael said, grinning alongside Ms. Mead. "Perhaps you should of listened to her the first time."

"But sir, I was just trying to-,"

"Ah ah. I've heard enough. Walk her back here and make sure you get nothing else thrown on you for the rest of the day or your fired. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir." Jeremy said lowly, turning to exit Michael's office and get you.

"These fucking new hires, huh?" Michael questioned, looking at Ms. Mead.

"You let Jeff and Mutt do the hiring when you really should pass that job along to Gallant. He would make sure the right people were working here."

"That he would. That he would..." Michael agreed, rubbing underneath his chin. And then you walked into the room. With a recent shift change, you now got off at 2PM, which means you were able to meet Michael for his lunches that he took at 2:30. He stared at you, smiling devilishly, running his fingers across his bottom lip.

"You're lucky I don't fire you my fucking self." you said to Jeremy as he escorted you in.

"My apologies, Mrs. Langdon." he said, with his head low.

"Yeah, whatever. You can get out now." He wasted no time, quickly leaving the room, accidentally bumping into the side of the door, causing the 3 of you to giggle. "Ugh, Michael, don't tell me you're still chewing on that bagel I sent you to work with." You walked over to his desk, engulfing Ms. Mead into a tight hug, which she gladly returned before planting a kiss on your cheek.

"I'll leave you two, to it." she said, giving Michael a nod before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Why so bossy today?" Michael questioned, sitting up in his chair and resting his hands on his desk, admiring your unique figure.

"Between work today and your stupid front desk agent, I'm just ready to eat lunch with you and for you to come home."

"It was that bad today?"

"If I could throw my computer out of the window with no consequences, I would." Michael chuckled, grabbing his bag of Panera Bread. You knew his favorite. Turkey Bacon Bravo, with avocado, extra, extra, avocado. Cheddar Broccoli soup and a Coke.

"You and me both, my Queen." Michael grabbed a remote, the one that control the shades in his office. He lowered them, half way, just so that no one walking by would be able to peak in at the two of you. "Staying with me until I get off at 5 or do you just want to take my car and go home and then come back for me?”

"You know I am. I've missed you terribly today."

"Is that why my front desk boy ended up covered in coffee?" The two of you looked at each other with a grin. "A temper just like mine. Mrs. Langdon, I love it, just as much as I love you."

"I love you too." you responded. "My temper is how I keep things in order."

"Mmmm." Michael hummed. "Tell me about it."

After lunch, Michael returned to his duties, going over his sales reports, moving things where they needed to go, and sending out emails and reminders. You loved watching him work. You loved how fast his fingers moved a crossed the keys and how his gaze never broke away from the task at hand. You were mainly focused on his outfit choice for today. You had no idea he would be leaving the house in an outfit that pointed out ALL of his features. Though he was soft, you could still see the full outline of his length through his jeans when he sat down. His chest, outlined against his shirt perfectly, you could just make out his nipples. The size of Michael's thighs drove you insane, that you couldn't help but come over in the chair you were sitting in and start rubbing them.

His focus still didn't break and while you knew he preferred to stay focused on his work, today it didn't seem like he cared. He allowed you to rub his thigh, his breathing slightly increasing as he typed up a inventory report. When he paused for a moment, wanting to crack his knuckles, you took the opportunity to spin his chair around so that it was facing you. The both of you immediately made eye contact, but no words were spoken. You could read his face and he could read yours. You were both on on the same page. He grabbed another remote, this time the stereo remote, turning it on, leaving the music at a reasonable volume.

Your hands were already fumbling with his belt as you got it unclasped. You quickly unbuttoned his jeans, Michael kicking off his shoes and moving them to the side. You pulled them down, bringing his boxers down with his, revealing his semi-hard cock. And all you did was touch him. You knew how much Michael craved you, both intimately and non-intimately. He was weak underneath your touch most of the time. You got on your knees in front of him, hands on his thighs as you slowly took him into your mouth. He let out a Godly sigh, leaning his head back as you got to work on him.

"Ssssh." you said, popping him out of your mouth. "It seems to be a busy day for you. You don't want your customers to know what's going on behind your office doors do you?"

"And what if I do?" Michael questioned, his cock twitching from missing your mouth.

"Well let's pretend you don't. No noises. Can you do that for me, daddy?" Michael's jaw clenched at the name and he bit his lip slightly. Silent Michael was sight to see. While extremely audible Michael was one of your favorites, nothing beat looking up at him and watching as he expressed his pleasure with his face and body.

You took him back into your mouth, slowly bobbing your head up and down on his length. Michael's jaw dropped. He desperately wanted to moan. He wanted you to know how good you were making him feel, but he kept it quiet. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, never taking his eyes off you. He didn't bother to take it off, his chest and torso for the most part exposed, his chain landing perfectly in the middle of chest. You licked up and down the sides of his shaft, using your hand to stroke circles around his spit glazed tip. The sound of the wetness drove the both of you crazy. Your own arousal soaked through your panties.

Putting him back in your mouth, you sucked on just his tip, using both of your hands to stroke the rest of his length. Looking up at him, he looked so beautiful. He was breathing heavily as he peered back down at you, running his hand through his hair, his hips starting to thrust upwards in your hand to try and match your pace. His foot found its way between your legs and using his big toe, he slowly rubbed it across your clit, causing you to moan lowly around him, the vibrations ripping through him.

You were sucking faster now, moving your hands faster. He gripped both sides of his office chair, before deciding to let them go, wanting his hands wrapped up in your hair instead. You moved your hands, knowing what he was wanting to do. Welcoming it. And you loved watching him do it too. His thrusts in your mouth started off slow and gently, before they became rough and fast. You looked up at Michael again, who was now breathing so rapidly you thought that maybe he could be hyperventilating. You could see him mouthing the word fuck over and over and over.

He stood up abruptly, pulling you up with him before smashing his lips onto yours, immediately sliding his tongue into your mouth, the two of you fighting for dominance. He was quick to rid you of your clothes before pulling his shirt all the way off. With a quick wave of his hand, everything that was now on his desk, was on his office sofa, neatly stacked so that he could return to it lately. He picked you up, setting you down on his desk.

"Now can you do the same for me?" he asked, quickly sliding into you, catching you off guard. Sensing your impending loud moan he quickly put a hand over your mouth. "No noises yes? Or I'll stop and we'll have to finish this at home." You nodded against his hand and he slowly moved in and out of you at a rhythmic pace. You pulled him by the back of his neck, closer to you, putting your lips directly against his ear. His hands roamed all over you, squeezing your breasts, playing with your nipples as he gradually increased the pace at which he fucked you. Your hands travelled up and down his back when suddenly he grabbed them, pinning them above your head.

You swore the desk was inching farther and farther away from the area it resided in as he now pounded into you relentlessly and you could help but let out a cry of pleasure, or at least you tried to, but Michael knew you all to well. He used his powers to keep you quiet, your mouth wanting to make noise, but nothing but breaths and pants coming out.

"Poor, girl." Michael said between breaths. "Dishing out challenges you can't even do yourself. Now look, I have to use my powers to keep your mouth shut. Pathetic. You enjoy being my little office toy?" You nodded vigorously. Not only had your shift change allowed you to have lunch with Michael, but it was just the fact that you were now able to spend the rest of his work filled day with him, sex or no sex.

"That's what I thought." he continued, his pounding becoming sloppier and sloppier as he neared his climax, you not following too far behind. When he let your hands go, they immediately found their way to his hair, giving it a sharp tug to which he inhaled sharply to stop himself from cursing. You grabbed him by his throat, pulling him back down towards you as you neared your orgasm, foreheads pressed against each other with nothing but pure love and lust in the both of your eyes.

You let go first, squirming violently against Michael, who sloppily kissed you following his own release shortly after, breathing and panting loudly in each other's mouths. You both rode out your orgasms until the pleasure was completely gone.

"This shift change is going to be so much fun." Michael said as he rested his face in your neck.

"So much fun, Mr. Langdon. So much fun." you said back.

Taglist: @jimmason @angelicmichael @whatcodysaid @theneverendinghunger

[cemilexsadik]

MARCH FIRST || SHOREDITCH, LONDON  @sxint​

Carman lets herself into Saint’s home like it’s any other day. Like an unprovoked attack hasn't just rocked their world. Rather than face them in the light of day, the perpetrators seem too afraid to meet War on the battlefield head on and, instead, attack in the dead of night like cowards, hiding in the shadows. Disgusting. It’s the tamest thought she’s had about the situation for days as she sets two to-go cups on the living room table, slinging her bag off her shoulder and shrugging out of her black wool coat just as Indi bounds up to greets her with fond kisses as Car crouches down to scratch her ears. She can hear Saint’s voice drifting from upstairs and discerns quickly that he’s on a call. Standing upright and sighing to herself, she takes out her tablet, setting it and her phone on the coffee table before she moves to the large floor-to-ceilling windows that spans a decent amount of one of the living room walls. 

Catching her reflection in the glass, Car rakes a hand through her hair, glancing at the street below. It’s a grey day, which seems fitting. Despite it being March, spring still feels far off, as though winter has a chokehold on the city. It feels colder. More desolate in light of Saturday’s events. Wounded, even, reeling from unexpected violence. And it’s that wounded appearance that Bellum and War are trying to combat. They need to get back on schedule, need to take inventory and show strength. Bellum’s contracts depend on it, and so do War’s. But it’s considerably more difficult with one key piece missing from the board: Juno, gone without a trace. Her absence has the potential to spread like poison through their ranks, through the public. Whispers of fragility and weakness are already being woven into the narratives various publications are pushing, all keen to see Bellum Nova on their knees. 

When Carman takes a seat on the couch, she opens a calendar to review the first round of meetings she’s tasked with reorganizing. A full week’s worth of work shifted to make room for rebuilds, press, investors and negotiations of all kinds. She’s just confirmed several appointments when she hears Saint’s footsteps and Indi jumps up from her place by her feet to greet him. Carman follows suit, all but tossing her iPad onto the couch as she crosses the room to wrap her best friend in a tight hug.

They’d talked, of course, after everything had happened, and throughout the next day. But with everyone wrapped up in the chaos, pulled in every direction, she hadn’t seen him yet, hadn’t been able to confirm with her own eyes that he was okay. “Oh, Saint.” She pulls away, looking up as hands frame his face, “you look like shit, canım.” Said with the softest of smiles, his presence providing a comfort few can. There’s so much she wants to say, so many questions she wants to ask but she’s known the youngest Warden her entire life, tied at the hip and in spirit, so she knows that what he needs right now are not questions about how he’s doing, or how she can help. He needs action. Answers. A steady shoulder to lean on, someone who can ease burdens rather than create new ones. And she can easily be those things for him.

She studies his face for a beat, leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead, before dropping hands to shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “I brought coffee.” From their preferred café. Fuel for the planning ahead, for their tired bodies and minds. But mostly for something familiar and consistent. She takes a seat on the couch, indicating to his cup as she picks up her iPad again. For all she may joke about throttling him if he asks her to fetch his coffee or tea, at the end of the day, Carman doesn’t mind – not really, not for Saint. Their friendship has always been selfless, tied together by a fierce trust and love for one another. And especially now, with his sister missing and everything his family ( and now hers ) has worked for under attack –– she’ll remain true to that. 

[allaboutthebooz]

Send My Love (To Your New Lover) Part Seventeen

Summary: Y/N gets many surprises.

Warnings: Angst, mild fluff, drunk reader

A/N: Sorry I haven’t updated this in a while, but life is crazy right now. Not overly crazy, but I’ve been studying for Midterms and juggling my mom/wife life, as well as new inventory for my store! But here it is! Part 17! Enjoy!

Missed something? Catch up here.

The sun began flooding in through your open curtains and shining behind your eyelids, making you groan. You roll over and peek and eye open, thinking you would find Jared fast asleep., but he wasn’t there. You reach behind you to feel for your phone on the nightstand by the bed. You feel it under your fingers and grip it in your hand, so it doesn’t fall to the floor. You light up the screen to see what time it is. It’s only 6:45 in the morning. Where did Jared go?

You lay in bed for a minute and listen to the space around you. Juno isn’t at your feet, so he must have gotten up to take her out. You throw the covers off of you and swing your legs over the edge. You stretch your arms above your head and stand up. Heading into the bathroom to pee and to pull your unruly hair up into a messy bun. Moving back into the bedroom and towards the door, you hear hushed whispers. Confused you move beyond the doorway and peer into the living room, you don’t see anyone. You move into the living room and spot Jared standing at the kitchen counter, and beside him is someone you weren’t expecting for a few more days. Jake. Your fiancé. The love of your life.

“Jake!”

He turns to look at you and smiles. You both move at the same time and meet each other in the middle. He pulls you into him and holds you tight. “What are you doing here? I told you I would be fine.”

He pulls away and gives you a quick, but passionate kiss. “Yeah you told me that, but I needed to be here. Mom understands. And you did say to stay until after the party. Plus, Jared called me while I was on the plane. Said my girl needed me.”

You look behind him and Jared and you both smile at each other. You see how tired he is. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“You know I couldn’t. I Was just starting to doze off an hour and a half ago when Jake poked his head in the room. Instead of waking you, we figured we would talk and wait for you to wake up on your own.”

“Well, thank the sun then. I forgot to close the curtains last night. But why don’t you guys get some sleep. You’ve both up all night, get some rest and then maybe we can show Jared around the city?”

“Actually, I have to get a few things first. Like some of my own clothes. So, I was going to do that and then we can figure something out.”

“You should get some sleep first, Jare.”

“Eh, I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

“Fine, but I don’t want to hear it later when we’re walking around the city. But if you must go, you can take my car.”

“Thanks, I was going to anyways.” He smiles and brings his cup of coffee up to his mouth to take a sip. You laugh and shake your head.

“Alright, well I’m going to take a shower.” You look at Jake and smile. “Are you going to join me, so I can show you how much I missed you before you crash?”

“And I’m out!” Jared grabs your keys off the hook and makes a quick exit, making you and Jake laugh.

+++

It was close to noon before Jared came back to your apartment. Jake had gotten a little bit of sleep, while you ate something and cleaned up a little bit. You both were currently sitting on the couch, binging Brooklyn 99, when the door opens and in burst two mini versions of Jared.  Before you could even process what was happening, you were being bombarded by tiny humans and Juno’s excessive barking was filling the apartment.

“What are you all doing here?! How did you get here?! What is going on?!” You ask through the pile of limbs and brown hair that you were currently buried under. You pull each of them back enough to see Tom and Shep’s cute faces grinning at you. You look passed them and spot Gen and Jared in the entryway, Odette wiggling in Jared’s arms. You stretch your arms out as best as you can, and he puts her down. She runs as quick as her tiny feet can carry her, before she climbs on top of her brothers.

“We came to see you. Jared called me last night after Jensen left and I didn’t know if Jake was coming home or not, so I booked the first flight out. I figured you could use their love.” Gen tells you as she sets the bags she was holding, down next to her feet. Her smile never wavering.

You squeeze all three kids as best you can. “My munchkins. Genevieve, you are one brave mama to bring all three on the plane by yourself.” You praise her.

“Well, they’re aunt Y/N is worth it. You need your family and we’re not going anywhere.”

The kids climb off of you and onto the floor to play with Juno. They laugh and squeal as she kisses their faces. You stand up and move towards them. “You guys are the absolute best.” You hug Gen and she gives you a squeeze in return. You move back towards Jake and he stands beside you, leaving his spot on the couch. “Well, we planned on showing Jared around the city, but I don’t know if you want to drag the kiddos around the Big Apple. We can go to lunch and figure it out.”

+++

There was no way that all of you would fit in you SUV, so you gathered what you needed for the kids, mainly O, and headed out. There was a great pizza place down the street from your apartment. Close enough to walk and to let the kids stretch their legs. Your neighborhood was more upscale than most, but it paid to be famous. The streets weren’t overly crowded and the people that did walk around all of you, were used to seeing famous faces on the streets, so not many people stopped to ask for pictures or ogle you as you walked by.

+++

After Lunch, Jared and Jake took the kids to the park while you and Gen had some girl time and went shopping in the area. You wanted to buy some more things for the apartment, but also wanted to wait. Jake was in the process of getting his apartment on the market, both of you wanting to move in together before you had to fly out to Atlanta.

You browsed the furniture stores in the area for a bit, but eventually left with nothing. You both headed down the shopping strip, sunglasses over your eyes, enjoying the New York sun.

“You’ve been so quiet, Bug.”

You look towards her as you pull open the door to the next shop. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“What’s running through that head of yours?”

You browse the clothes on the rack nearby and shake your head. “I just hope Jensen’s okay. I know it’s stupid for me to be thinking about him, but I can’t help it. I know I should be mad about him just showing up on my doorstep and I’m not.”

“Well, hun. That’s understandable. You were together a long time, but he can’t keep stringing you along anymore. He can’t decide that when he’s found a new shiny to, that he can just get rid of the old one, but then want it back when someone else picks it up off the ground, cleans it up, and starts to play with it. That’s not how life is. He let you go, and it took you so long to get over him. Now that you’re moving on and getting married to Jake, he decides that he’s wanted you all along. Nuh uh. Not in our family.”

You touch Gen’s arm, calming her rant. “Okay, I get it. Trust me, I do. But all I’m saying is that I don’t blame him.”

“Well, then I’ll blame him enough for the both of us.” She huffs and looks around. “Let’s go get drunk.”

“What? Gen, it’s not even two o’clock yet.”

“In the words of Jimmy Buffett ‘It’s five o’clock somewhere.’ Besides, when was the last time that you just let go. Come on! The guys have the kids! Let’s go drink like the world is ending.”

“I don’t know, Gen.”

She grabs your arms and drags you from the store. “No, we’re doing this. You need this.”

You roll your eyes but follow her out of the store.

+++

Two hours later, Jake strolls through the door of the bar you and Gen were currently occupying. He finds you both playing a game of pool, a stack of glasses and bottles littering the table beside you. He moves through the early afternoon crowd. Reaching the table as you bend over and take a shot, sinking a stripe in the corner pocket. You stand up straight and cheer. He smiles, putting his hand on your back. You spin around clumsily to see who was touching you, ready to tell them off. You smile bright, a hazy look in your eyes from all the alcohol running through your veins.

“Hey! It’s my fiancé! Gen, this is my fiancé! Isn’t he the most handsome man you’ve ever seen?” You grip his cheeks in one hand, making his mouth pucker. Gen sits in the chair and laughs, not as under the influence as you are, but enough. “Gosh, you’re so hot. How did I get so lucky?” You begin to ramble, and he laughs.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him, in case you stumble. “Alright, Smalls. Time to go home.”

You wag your eyebrows at him. “Oh yeah? You wanna take me home?”

He nods, knowing where your mind is going and playing along.  “Sure, do.” He looks over at Gen, giving her a nod to come too. She stands and takes his other arm in hers. “Must be my lucky night.”

“Sure is, baby.” You slur, resting your head on his shoulder.

He gets you both out of the bar and he opens the back door to your car, he lays you across the backseat as Gen climbs up front. Within minutes, you’re asleep.

He climbs in the front and starts the engine.

“Well, you can never doubt her love you.” Gen tells him.

He smirks. “I never have.”

“Not even when she told you that Jensen ran out of his wedding?” She turns her head to look at him.

He glances at her, taking in a breath. He turns back to look at you for a second before looking forward again. Your little snores filling the silence. “Even then. I know she loves me. I will never doubt that, but I know she will always love him. I can’t blame her for that. And I will admit, that when I heard he was looking for her, I was a little worried, but then I remembered how screwed up she was because of him and I remember what Jared told. About what happened when she called him the day Jensen walked out on her. Then I was just angry. Angry at him for thinking he can just have her back like she was some kind of doll. Angry that he would think he could take my girl from me.” He shakes his head. “I knew she wouldn’t leave with him. Even after all that they went through and how much she still loves him, she wouldn’t do that to me. Do the same thing that he did to her. She may still love him, but she proved how much she loves me more and that is more important than anything. She’s my whole world and I don’t want to let her go.”

Gen is quiet. He thinks she must have fallen asleep, but when he glances over at her, she’s just staring at him with so much affection. “And we can’t thank you enough for loving her so much. She deserves that love and I’m so happy that she has found that with you.” She smiles at him and then turns to look at you. “She is such a bright star in our lives, and I was so devastated when her light burned out, but you brought it back. I haven’t seen her that happy in a long time.”

“She should always shine bright.”

Gen hums as Jake pulls the car to the curb outside of the apartment building. They climb out and Jake peels you from the backseat, you barely stir. He holds you through the entire elevator ride and carries you through the threshold of your apartment, Gen shushing the kids as he moves through the apartment to your bedroom. He lays you on the bed and strips you of your dress and heels. Pulling one of his shirts from the drawer and sliding it over your head. He settles you beneath the covers and kisses your forehead.

“I love you, Smalls. So much.”

You peek your eyes open a tad and give him a lazy smile. “I love you, Bubby.” You whisper, before sliding your eyes closed again and snuggling deeper into the covers. “Thank you for coming home.” You murmur.

“Always.”

@liebemeineslebensx @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @cookiechipdough @maralisa124 @spnfamily-thewinchesters @tmiships4life @greyeyedsmile14 @aomi-nabi @keikoraventeller @captaindorit0 @frozenhuntress67 @nerdygirlwithacrush @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @everyfallentear @jxnnxbrxwn @parkeret @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @mml232 @sing4mejensen @supersupernaturalfan @voideandotherstuff @samuelwillliamwinchester @sherlockedtash88 @smoothdogsgirl @cap-just-said-language @31shadesofbrown @deansbbysblog @linki-locks11 @mirandaaustin93 @hiraethclaire @love-my-not-natural-babies @nickigv @flamencodiva @gh0stgurl @holylulusworld @heyitscam99 @atlas-of-the-world @colie87 @woodworthti666 @princessizzy36 @pretty-fortune @death-unbecomes-you @theloudkilljoy @nea90sweetie @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @mypassionsarenysins @sarah--jonas @fashion--addict @charlybradburry @familiardestruction @simonsbluee @psychoredpanda

[8dpromo]

Fenomenon - Tropic Of Capricorn (Third Attempt Remix) [Beatservice Records]

8DPromo · Fenomenon - Tropic Of Capricorn (Third Attempt Remix) [Beatservice Records]

Fenomenon made a welcome return to release action in 2021 following an extended hiatus, treating admirers of their work to four delectable cuts of immaculately constructed and powerfully moving music. The most up-tempo of a roundly horizontal crop was the EP's "Tropic Of Capricorn." The track's spellbinding melodies, vibrant rhythms, and pristine production made an instant impression on Balearic-minded collectors. With such a seductive set of ingredients, the track was an obvious candidate for rework treatment. Third Attempt's rise into the cosmic subconscious has been as swift as it is richly deserved, with the young artist consistently serving a steady stream of beautifully-formed sounds since first arriving on Beatservice in 2018. True to the form he's displayed throughout his outstanding release inventory, Third Attempt's delicate remix of "Tropic Of Capricorn" is the latest in a long line of sparkling compositions. Making use of the memorable melodic signature of the original, Third Attempt pulls the track's dreamy refrains sharply into focus, re-framing the emotive top-line over snappy beats and sub-heavy bass for a stirring club workout. The music effortlessly unfolds, building to a blissfully introspective breakdown before bursting back into floor-filling life, with delicate textures subtly supporting the track's iconic synth lead. Providing a gentle yet startling rendition of this gorgeous track, Third Attempt breathes renewed vitality into an already magnificent composition - and the results are unmissable.

Flash Atkins (Paper Recordings) – “I really like this. It reminds me of something I can’t quite put my finger on. A perfect track for my non-existent residency in Ibiza.” Pillow Talk (PillowTalk Music) – “A really cool closing track.” Redstickman (The Ambient Mafia) – “Super dreamy. I’m throwing this into a poolside set for sure.” DJ Firefly (Couch Dancing) – “Magical.” Sandro Bianchi (Ibiza Sonica) – “100% in love! Brilliant.” Simon Kirk (Stag Beetle Show) – “Achingly beautiful track. I love it.”

Available Now From: Bandcamp, Juno Download, Apple Music, And Spotify.

[ernmark]

This one’s a request from Naomi on AO3, who asked,

I just????? Really really want an angsty sad thing about peter after juno left. Maybe make JUNO have to comfort HIM. I just never get to see it.

I think part of the reason that you don’t get to see it very often is the same reason why we don’t see Juno being jealous very often: because unless he’s in a significantly healthier place beforehand, he’s not going to fight for Peter purely on the grounds that he thinks he doesn’t deserve him. It takes a whole lot of setup and finagling for him to not just walk away at the first sign of conflict.

Peter hears that familiar voice, and for a moment he’s swept away by elation. It’s Juno. Juno’s here, Juno’s found him, Juno’s come back, his detective has--

The train of thought grinds to a halt. Because that isn’t right.

Juno isn’t his detective, is he?

He never was.

Peter shuts down the thought before it can linger and he shoves it into the neat little compartment in the back of his mind. He has a team of space pirates to double-cross, a ship to commandeer, and a cargo hold full of priceless artifacts to sell to the highest bidder-- none of which he can do if he’s distracted by Juno Steel.

So he gets back to work. He tries to focus. He fails, of course, but that’s no fault of his own. 

He’d specifically chosen to go through the cargo hold to avoid running into the detective. How was he supposed to guess that Juno would step through the door just as Peter’s about to spring a trap on a significant portion of the crew? 

If he's being romantic, he’d say that the worst part is that Juno spots him at the same moment-- that when they lock eyes, Juno can see the ache in Peter’s expression-- that for that split second, Juno knows exactly how much Peter wants him back.

If he’s being practical, he’d say the worst part is that the split second of romance is enough to alert the pirates to their presence. In a split second, his clever trap is rendered useless and an ambush becomes a shootout. He’s only got a knife on hand, and the pirates are shooting too wildly; he can’t get in close enough to strike, not without getting himself killed. On all sides, crates are cracking and breaking under the force of hard light projectiles. 

Better the crates than himself, he supposes when he takes cover behind an impressively large stack of crates.

In hindsight, that’s rather flawed reasoning. 

The firefight has already put the stack of crates into a precarious position. All it takes to overbalance the whole thing is one pirate diving out of the way of Juno’s lasers. The stack wobbles. Shifts. Creaks. And then falls.

Peter doesn’t have the chance to escape. All he can do is curl into a ball, cover his head, and minimize the damage as a mountain of crates collapses on top of him. 

At first all Peter can register is the chaos of the collapse-- the sounds of crates and their cargo falling around him, the pain of sharp corners digging into his ribs, the weight forcing him down while his foot remains wedged in place elsewhere. His vision blazes red as his ankle twists.

Cold panic surges through his veins. He needs to get out of here. He needs to disappear. He needs to run, but he can’t do that on a damaged ankle, which means he needs to focus-- he needs to think-- but the haze of pain leaves his thoughts wandering. 

Breathe, he tells himself. Just breathe and don’t make a sound. Let them think you’re dead. They’ll move on if they think you’re dead.

He tries to take inventory: Twisted ankle. Broken ribs, but no punctured lungs. Blood and bruises. Nothing permanent. Nothing he can’t shrug off if he needs to.

Above him, the crates are starting to move. One of them falls as it shifts, its sharp corner gouging his side on the way down, and he can’t hold in a hiss of agony. He claps his hand over his mouth to stifle another cry. They’ll have heard that, and if they realize he’s still alive they’re going to kill him--

“Still alive,” gasps a familiar voice, and the crates begin moving again. “Hold on, Nureyev. I’m gonna get you out of there.” 

Juno is still here. That fact gives Peter a single solid point outside of himself. He fixates on it, forcing agony and confusion to the back of his mind. 

“Nureyev?” Juno’s voice cracks around his name. “Come on, Nureyev, talk to me.”

Peter doesn’t answer. He doesn’t move. It’s the first rule of thieving: don’t ever come when called. If they have to shout for you, it means you’re doing something right. 

Besides, he missed hearing Juno say his name. It’s been too long since he’s heard Juno say it. Since he’s heard anyone say it. 

He clamps down the thought. That’s the haze talking, not him. He needs to focus.

”Nureyev? Nureyev!” Juno’s voice is raw as he hurls the crates aside, probably smashing priceless artifacts in his hurry, but the weight on Peter’s body is growing lighter in time with Juno’s frantic babbling. ”No, no, this isn’t supposed to happen. You’re not even supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be out there, stealing the stars out of the goddamn sky or something. Come on, Nureyev. Be okay. You’ve got to be okay.”

And just like that, the last of the crates is tossed aside, and in place of darkness is Juno Steel. Bodies litter the floor of the cargo hold, some of them still twitching from Juno’s lasers. All of them are either unconscious or dead. Juno’s eye is open wide, his face ashen and bloodless, his hands cut up from scrabbling at the synth-wood crates. 

“Jesus, Nureyev,” Juno whispers, and he gathers Peter into his arms and pulls him from the wreckage. 

It should stop there, but Juno’s hands are all over him, checking him for injuries and whispering frantic nonsense as he frets. 

Peter’s stomach lurches. A part of him-- the animal part still overwhelmed by fear and pain-- urges him to lean into the sensation, to take comfort and safety where he can get it. 

Peter didn’t get to be a master thief by listening to that part of himself. Juno’s the type of person who takes it to heart when anyone gets hurt. It doesn’t mean anything. 

Peter already knows how this ends. 

“I’m alright.” He sits up, using the motion to push Juno away. 

“You sure about that?” Juno hovers, but he doesn’t touch him again. “You took one hell of a hit just now.” 

“Yes, I noticed.” Every part of him is sore and aching, but there’s no time to sit around. At least some of the pirates are still alive, and that means he needs to make himself scarce before they reappear. He rolls onto his hands and knees, gritting his teeth against the pain as he tries to pull himself to his feet. 

“What are you doing?” Juno demands. “You need to stay down, Nureyev, it looks like--”

“I would ask you to be a little more careful with my name,” Peter says sharply. He can’t keep hearing Juno say it like that-- like it actually means something to him. 

With this, at least, Juno listens. “It looks like your ankle’s broken,” he says carefully. “You need to stay off it.”

“I need to get out of here before these people wake up,” Peter says, and he drags himself to his feet. 

Maybe Juno isn’t all that far off in his diagnosis, because the moment Peter tries to put weight on his ankle, pain arcs through him like an electric shock. By the time the blood red has receded from his vision, he realizes that Juno is at his side, his shoulders under Peter’s arm and his hand at Peter’s waist.

“I’m fine, thank you.” It isn’t a term of gratitude, but dismissal. As always, Juno ignores it.

“You’ll get out of here faster if you stay off that leg,” Juno points out. “Come on, my car is over this way. We can get you to a clinic, and--”

Peter pulls away. He’d rather hobble.

“Dammit, would you stop that?” Juno reaches for him again. “You’re going to hurt yourself even worse.”

“I’ve survived worse than a broken ankle,” Peter says coolly. He’s sure there’s a hover dolly around here somewhere that he can use. “Go and arrest your pirates if you want, but I have business here, and I don’t intend to leave it behind.” 

“Okay, fine. Then tell me what you need and I’ll get it done.” Juno digs his heels in, stubborn as a toddler in a supermarket, and for a moment Peter can’t help a flash of affection for him. 

He wants to say yes.

They really are quite the team, the two of them. They’ve made it through impossible odds before; something like this would be child’s play, if it didn’t spin itself into a grand adventure first. And he knows that all the while Juno will be charming and clever and even affectionate, so long as one of them is bleeding. It might even end with a kiss, right before Juno walks away.

Peter can’t put himself through that again.

“I think I’ll pass,” he says coldly. He tries to pull away, but Juno won’t let him go.

“Dammit, stop,” Juno says. “I get it, okay? You don’t want anything to do with me, and I don’t blame you. Just let me get you somewhere safe, and then you’ll never have to see me again.” 

And maybe any other day of his life Peter might have been able to keep his mouth shut, but his mind is still a swirl of agony and the only place he doesn’t hurt is where he’s touching Juno, and he hates how desperately he wants to cling to that comfort. 

"Forgive me if I’ve lost faith in your promises.” 

The ankle will heal in a few weeks. But it’s been more than a year since he last saw Juno, and he still can’t get the detective out of his mind. 

[atlanticcanada]

N.B. veteran first Canadian to receive coin commemorating 75th anniversary of D-Day

The Royal Canadian Mint has just released a new $2 coin in honour of the 75th anniversary of D-Day, and a New Brunswick veteran was the first Canadian to receive it.

The coin was unveiled Monday at the Moncton Garrison -- home to the 37 Brigade of the North Shore Regiment, whose troops were among the 13 Canadian regiments landing at Juno Beach on June 6, 1944.

Soldiers past and present gathered Monday to witness the unveiling.

“A coin is forever, so it’s a perfect way to honour that,” said Alex Reeves of the Royal Canadian Mint. “With the launch of the D-Day circulation coin, we’re commemorating one of the greatest moments in military and world history.”

“These guys, they’ve done so much for the country,” said Lt.-Col. Renald DeFour of the North Shore Regiment. “We need to do the right thing for them, and adding the $2 that we have today, it’s going to be a little token of appreciation that’s population-wide.”

Designed by Canadian artist Alan Daniel, the coin shows three soldiers peering from their landing craft as they approach Juno Beach. On the outer ring, engravings of ships and aircraft illustrate the massive air and naval operation which supported the troops.

Second World War veteran Alphonse Vautour was the first Canadian to receive the coin.

At 22 years old, Vautour was one of many New Brunswickers who stormed Juno Beach 75 years ago, saying he felt it was his duty to serve.

“I was at war. It seemed to me I was not scared,” he said. “It was time to go.”

Vautour says he still remembers June 6, 1944 like it was yesterday.

“It’s something you never forget,” said the 99-year-old veteran. “You go to bed at night and two, three o’clock in the morning you wake up, it’s on your mind.”

Three million coins will be in circulation to the public, two million of which will feature colour.

“We’re kind of mixing it up a little,” said Reeves. “It used to be in the past that the coloured coins were the more rare ones but we’ve switched it up this year, and it just makes collecting a little more exciting, and it certainly adds more variety to the coins that are out there.”

The Royal Canadian Mint says the public should see the coins gradually appear in their change as bank branches and businesses begin replenishing inventories of $2 coins.

With files from CTV Atlantic's Eilish Bonang

from CTV News - Atlantic http://bit.ly/2wlNbqv

[atrayo]

Jewels of Truth Statements and Favorite Quotes of the Month

Hello All, Today I'll be sharing another trio of longhand written "Jewels of Truth" channeled angelic wisdom statements. With perhaps a channeled meme or two from the angels that I've shared prior on my "Atrayo's Oracle" Facebook fan page as well. The topic's I'll be sharing is on the Afterlife, Abortion, and being Vulnerable. The latter two are rather unique since I was channeling an Ancient Greek Angelic Goddess known as Hera. Otherwise, known as Juno to the Ancient Romans besides being the Imperial wife of Zeus / Jupiter. Hera, is a mother goddess of women, marriage, family, childbirth, and so forth not unlike the Christian Mother Mary. However, here she points out that abortion in her view or perhaps Heavens a.k.a. Elysium's views it as a crime. As an act of transparency, I'm personally Pro-Choice in terms of abortion as a person here on Earth. I'm struggling to reconcile this angelic goddess point of view. In time I will probably change my opinion on abortion but not as of yet. Since I see humanity ending up like the inhabitants of Easter Island depleting their island of resources. In our case, it's globally since humanity is already over 8 billion souls plus and growing not to mention we're behaving like locusts. The other statement on the Afterlife is another intriguing conceptualization that sees it as a collective sphere of a metaphysical reality. Where the endless Heaven's, Limbo's, and combined Infinite Hell's are superimposed on top of each other separated by tonal frequencies. Since the afterlife is without spatial orientation a.k.a. space and without time as dimensions. It is moreso spoken as a State of Being that we channel by our passionate expressions here on earth and beyond. As always I hope you each maintain a critical mind even if you disagree with the assertions I've channeled above. By means of clairvoyant inspired automatic writing as a technique, I've practiced now for over 23 years plus as a dharmic devotion. Like I always state as long as your inventory of ideas is expanded towards new horizons of the heart and mind. May you enjoy these thoughts as spiritual teachings by unconditional love for all. Amen.

Afterlife: 2706) With all there has gone by we lament not realizing the grandeur in our surroundings. That when we lived as people, creatures, environments, entire worlds, and so forth. We cared not to realize our whole divinity in its splendid outworkings. It is with this understanding we now speak fervently without hesitation and without remorse in our United Spirits with God(dess) Everlasting. That the realms of the afterlife endless that they are indeed. Aren't realms as places occupying space physically nor metaphysically. It is rather a state of perpetual Divine Being at least those of us belonging to Heaven. The identical phenomenon occurs for the wicked souls as unholy children of God. Hell isn't a place here or there but a State of Unholy Being. Equally, it can be said of Limbo as a neutral realm of nowhere in a state of being metaphysical. To take this analogous principle of divine law one step further is to reiterate. As Heavens, Limbo, and Hell are metaphysical States of perpetual Etherical Being. They are a collective whole sphere united akin to a globe. Not so much divided as hemispheres but mixed as one continuum without a place as occupying totality everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. A living and dying conundrum of a loop of existence as a paradox mysteriously so it is. To picture this cosmology of Enlightened Divinity is to denote the Wonder of God's Will at work beautifully so as an ineffable truth. This our reality what one will's they become instantly without the dilation of time to interfere. Heavenly souls of God occupy this whole globe in frequencies of everlasting grace. Superimposed within other channels of expression are unholy layers upon such an identical continuum of a sphere of the afterlife. The same phenomena for all of Limbo for those atheist souls that believe in absolutely nothing whatsoever. All souls are by default Enlightened because of each share in the Image and Likeness of God. As the Creator, Sustainer, and Destroyer of all realities combined as One Supreme Existence Forever. Amen. ---Ivan Pozo-Illas / Atrayo.

Abortion: 2707) We the guardians of the Heavens be we known as Olympians or not. Know many forms of inherent expressions that plainly are divine exaltations, to say the least. I "Hera" Greek Olympian Everlasting declare the motherhood of once maidens deeply sacred to me personally. Be one a person or of another equal kind of living mortal form. I endear not to be disturbed by lame tendencies that rob me of our Holy Mightiest Peace upheld by the elder angelic deities of Olympus. I wish to declare as Mother Imperial Queen to all that worship the feminine nature. That I too acknowledge greater mother deities than I upon Creation. No matter I continue to embark upon what is mine to endeavor. That to rob a newborn of its birth upon realms like your Earth is an unfortunate crime upon the innocent spirit therein. To abort a fetus of any species is an unholy act in the Eyes of the One you call God. The punishment is self-inflicted instantly as a laceration of a psychological wound in a masochistic manner every time. The mind reels unconsciously and the emotional heart grows cold and eventually deeply disturbed. This isn't even mentioning the spiritual unease perpetuated on oneself directly. Aside from birth control which is a legitimate chemical preventive act of health and lifestyle choice. Abortion is not of God for a truly absolutely loving supreme Creator slaughters no one! I understand the complexity of mortal living where unwed mothers and moreso other abandoned single mothers are forgotten by entire so-called modern societies the world over. To be cast into material poverty due to cowardly men forsaking the grace of the mother and the children in one fell swoop. One crime of abortion follows another by secular societies the world over by dismissing young unsupported mothers to a life of miserable poverty. I say this is abhorrent to the Will of God! To those other fools that declare that abortions are a social necessity of population culling. Has failed to reason properly that eight billion plus souls of humanity and growing are ravaging the planet unceremoniously. It is a failed mechanism sociologically and is an act of murderous barbarism. To injure motherhood in whichever form is an injustice remembered by God. For not even the angelic gods and goddesses such as I belong to can escape the Divine Holy Law of Karma. Amen. (Channeled by Hera / Juno Mother Goddess of Ancient Greece and Rome as the wife of Zeus / Jupiter.) ---Ivan Pozo-Illas / Atrayo.

Vulnerable: 2708) To all that abhor tragedies listen well for the greatest sadness is usually self-inflicted upon this world. Not even the betrayal of friends and dear loved ones can the stupidity of a self-inflicted wound can spell vindication. For here I "Hera" Mother to all that supports Greece and its subsequent generations across the world. Do I remember and love your ancestors that worshipped me so dearly and unceasing. Yes, to worship an angel as the gods aren't quite right. However, it is not considered a crime when passionate reverence, when sanctioned with adorations, is always offered. For even Roman-Catholic Christians worship the Virgin Mother Mary of Christos. She too is a mother goddess such as I "Hera" upon the Ancient Greeks and "Juno" upon the Ancient Romans thereafter. I adore my fellow Angelic Queens as Mother Goddesses the world over. For our dominion is only united by the Will of God everlasting. We the Olympians may not be forgotten although we are labeled as mythologies instead as our religions are all but dead to this world. To all the progeny of our beautiful ancestors live well and live strongly for one another. We the gods of Greece have never left your sides. Albeit the faith of the land and sea has changed hands in these few short eons. We bid our eternity for mystics such as this oracle of "Ivan the Atrayo" to recall our true love once again. We are no more pagan than the Christian Gnostics slaughtered by the Roman-Catholics centuries ago in the Name of God, moronically so. To all that seek the embrace of the celestial mothers of old. We are here for you whether of Olympus or elsewhere of another mythological paradise. We love you always! Call upon any blessed angel you may wish. For God keeps us busy for the suffering of your world is always great, unfortunately. Be advised we are strong and Elysium stands at the ready to repel evil wherever it may set foot upon the Holy Children of God Everlasting. Amen. (Channeled by Hera / Juno Mother Goddess of Ancient Greece and Rome as the wife of Zeus / Jupiter.) ---Ivan Pozo-Illas / Atrayo.

I swear I will not dishonor my soul with hatred, but offer myself humbly as a guardian of nature, as a healer of misery, as a messenger of wonder, as an architect of peace. --- Diane Ackerman. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. ---Psalm 91:11. The universe buries strange jewels deep within us all, and then stands back to see if we can find them. ---Elizabeth Gilbert. Stay true to your deepest intuition that an extraordinary and miraculous life is possible. ---Craig Hamilton. The more light you allow within you, the brighter the world you live in will be. ---Shakti Gawain. Ivan "Atrayo" Pozo-Illas, has devoted 23 years of his life to the pursuit of clairvoyant Inspired automatic writing channeling the Angelic host. Ivan is the author of the spiritual wisdom series of "Jewels of Truth" consisting of 3 volumes published to date. He also channels conceptual designs that are multi-faceted for the next society to come that are solutions based as a form of dharmic service. Numerous examples of his work are available at "Atrayo's Oracle" blog site of 13 years plus online. Your welcome to visit his website "Jewelsoftruth.us" for further information or to contact Atrayo directly.

[sqwidgurl]

my entire life plan just got derailed but they could never take away my reading porn time and that’s why i keep going

[starsescape]

Audrey isn’t here.. Jill remember the girl she had promised to find. Audrey was the missing member of the uptown teens who had saved Jill from an alleyway after she had been overwhelmed by the infected. The two teens, Megan and Ellie, were waiting in their apartment with Rachel who Jill had call to come and look after them while she would search for Audrey. Maybe she didn’t make it this far after all. Now on top of her search for Audrey Jill made the decision to retrieve Abraham’s inventory from the Apple Inn Hotel. She was getting sidetracked even more, but the chance of getting her hands on useful merchandise was too good to pass up. I could buy something off him before I leave from here to get the rest.

[New side mission has been added to Jill’s diary.]

[Abraham’s suitcase contains drugs and healing items.]

Reaching top of the stairs Jill took the first step on the upper walkway. It creak underneath her weight, but the board held. Great.. She had hoped that the renovation of the walkway had been done during the summer, but the work had clearly been postponed for one reason or the other and now it would be postponed indefinitely. The walkway was old, but as long as Jill was careful and didn’t rush it she should be fine. She look at the shelves that ran along the wall, each one filled with the files of decade old cases, and then gaze down to the main floor of the library. Jenny.. She saw the officer with short blonde hair step out of the private reading room. Their uniform look formal, but two buttons at the top were left open to show cleavage. The girl they had been with didn’t come out, undoubtedly still resting and putting their clothes on after their session.

Their eyes met and Jill felt the unease when Jenny’s lips turn into a smirk. It display unsated hunger. Neither said a thing and Jill look away first. She didn’t wish to imagine what they thought of her with the way they look at her, especially not right after she had seen Jenny using her position as an officer for her own gain.

Moving further on the walkway Jill saw that near the end of it, just before where it went over the private reading room underneath, a table was set with two officers leaning over it and focused on making plans. First she smile brightly as she recognized one of them, but then it turn dim. Jill approach them and call out “Hello..” As she stop.

The senior officer, a man with a buzz cut hair, raise his head. “Jill!” His thoughtful expression turn to one of joy as he push himself off the table and rush to Jill with open arms before slowing down as he hesitate. His smile died down, but it linger there just like Jill’s had. “Jill, I’m sorry.. I..” He start to explain.

Just let it go! Jill couldn’t hold herself back anymore. Couldn’t pretend that she wasn’t happy to see him. She ran to him and hug him. After a second of shock she felt his arms wrap around her too. “Water under the bridge.” Jill’s arms close around him tighter as she forgive him. “It’s good to see you safe, Marvin.”

Marvin rest his head against hers and pat Jill on the back as they hug it out. “You too, Jill.” He was the one who ease their hold first and move back. “We should have listened to you.” Marvin show regret, the kind that would propably never go away, but he look relieved to know Jill didn’t hold it against him for not believing her and the surviving S.T.A.R.S. members back when they tried to warn them about the Umbrella without having any proof to back up their claims after the mansion incident. “But I promise I will listen to you now. Will you help us?” He motion towards the table with notes, maps and pens scattered on it. “We are trying to form a plan.”

The other officer had a short blonde hair, not much different from what Jenny had, but their eyes had hope and their smile was genuine. “Rita Phillips, from the patrol police.” She extend her hand to shook Jill’s. “Both I and officer Jenny Bailey work under Marvin’s command.. Though she hasn’t been with us hundred percent anymore.” They held back their tongue, but the message was clear that Jenny, who Jill had already seen, wasn’t with them.

Jill shook Rita’s hand and nod. “Nice to meet you.” She hadn’t met them before and judging by the way they carry themselves they were rather new to this job. Not a rookie, but still new. The type who would volunteer and act, but might freeze if the situation gets out of hand. “What do we have here?” Jill join them around the table to study the map of the police station and the notes the two had written on it. Next to the map was the list of the survivors. Jill pick it up.

Susan and Lena Pittman

Evelyn Cain

Juno Townsend (volunteer)

Ruth Fletcher  lost downstairs

Abraham Sanford

Tommy ?

Greta Huber

Moira Barnes

Katherine Warren (With the chief)

Jill didn’t ask about Ruth. She could imagine what had happened and guess where it had taken place. That bathroom stall... The one with the cum splattered walls and shredded clothes on the floor. How bad it had- Then Jill realized Marvin was talking to her.

“-we had to evacuate the downstairs.” Marvin explain with a heavy heart. “We lost one of the civilians when we pull back.” He pause and then point at Katherine’s name. “The mayor’s daughter, she is with the chief who wish to keep a close eye on her after we move here.”

Rita continue with a quiet voice. “There might be more we lost.” She sound unsure. “We got new arrivals right before the attack that followed the battle at the main street.” Her hands clench into fists. “I- I didn’t have time to list them. Everything happened so fast.” Rita took a breath and held it as she relax her shoulders before releasing it. “They might have made it to the basement.. Hid someplace safe or made it out.”

Jill nod, but didn’t say anything. She felt that it was best not to focus on what might or might not have happened to them since each thought spent on them weight more heavily on Marvin and Rita. “I met Juno on my way here.” Jill point at the west corridor of the first floor on the map. “She fixed and closed the safety shutters here.” She almost smirk remembering what they did afterwards in the dark room, but she held it back. “We part ways after that.. I belive she went to the press room to receive new orders.” Jill was happy to deliver the good news as she saw the others smile. “The west wing of the first floor should be safe now, but a few of the infected remain there.”

“Good to hear that she is safe.” Marvin smile and point at the press room on the map. “The officers in charge of rebuilding the defences of the first floor hold up there. Once they finish their task we have been ordered to launch an counter attack to clean up and retake the first floor.” He shook his head and his expression turn grim. Marvin look over the railing to see that Jenny was further away before he spoke again. “Our orders are to hold the station, but I don’t believe that is possible. We have lost too much already. We are trying to plan our escape.”

“Take a look at this.” Right after Marvin had finished Rita reveal the map of the uptown area. “The barricade on the main road near the front of the station isn’t the strongest.” Rita point it at the map and then let her finger slide along the main road that ran towards the suburbs instead of the way Jill had walk through to reach the station. “If we could clear or blow it up, we should be able to bring an escape vehicle to the front doors without the need for the civilians to walk such a long distance to the parking lot behind the station. We wouldn’t have to worry about running into the infected during a short walk if everything goes smoothly.” There was a pause, Rita was clearly making a guess. “The roads should be clear past the barricade and we should be able to find a safe place if we won’t drive out of the city.”

Marvin sigh. It imply that they had this talk before. “We have no idea if the roads are clear past that.” He look at Rita with a firm expression, but Marvin look proud of her for daring to speak her mind and bringing another option to the table. “We could drive in to an ambush or it might just be a dead end.” He took a breath and continue. “Not to mention that blowing up the barricade will alert every infected in the area along with the men Iron’s have ordered to make sure no one leaves the station. It is simply too dangerous. We should hold out here until we know more or bring the survivors either straight to the underground garage where the vehicles are or to the parking lot at the back to wait for pick up after we make sure we have a car or two to make our escape.”

Jill realize she was smiling. They were acting against a direct order to hold the station in favor of trying to make it out. We still need to scout and clear the route if possible before we bring the people out.. Secure an escape vehicle. There was a lot that need to be done. Too much to do with the time I have. Jill knew what she carry inside of her.

“Are you with us, Jill?” Rita ask what Marvin didn’t need to.

[Vote for what Jill should do]

[sqwidgurl]

TELL ME WHY I FOLLOW ONLY 3 TUMBLR ACCOUNTS THAT MATCH MY FREAK FULLY AND ONE OF THEM IS INACTIVE AND THE OTHER TWO ARE INTO BLUE LOCK RN IF I FIND U RIN ITOSHI IMMA KILL YOU

[starsescape]

Jill push the door open. She stood at the doorway where she could see the library and a group of people who were there. Two blonde women, a mother and daughter by the look of them, turn to stare at her as they were closest to where Jill had made her entrance. They fell silent and so did rest of the room until a girl’s voice broke it “Are you part of the rescue team?” The one who ask it was a young redhead who couldn’t hold back their smile as they ran over to Jill from further away. They truly believe she was there to save them.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m not.” Jill felt how her words hurt them. The hopeful expression the girl had died down yet they tried to a brave face to fake excitement and say something else, but the older blonde cut her off.

“Did you really think they were here to help?” The blonde woman scoffed at the redhead. “They dress like a slut.“ They look at Jill past the girl between them. They wore glasses, heels and a pen skirt with a blazer which had dull colors. They had tight expression, but gave a smug judgemental gaze to Jill. They look at Jill as if she was a whore and then gave the redhead a side glance “Better leave her be.”

“Excuse me?” Hearing that made it so hard not to escalate things, but somehow Jill only raise her voice just ever so slightly. Can’t believe this woman is.. Jill was about to speak up, but blonde girl beside their mother did so first.

“Mom, shut up.” They glance at their mom with a mix of fear and disgust. Unlike their mother they didn’t seem to fit anywhere. They wore leather pants and a t-shirt with a leather vest. “Sorry..” She apologize while quickly moving her gaze away from their mother and briefly meeting eyes with Jill and the redhead between them. It seem she said it to all of them: for Jill and the redhead for obvious reasons and to her mother for speaking out of term with such a rude manner.

The redhead turn to look at the mother and and then stick out her tongue. “Yeah. Shut up, Susan! No one ask fashion tips from you.” Then they turn back to face Jill and after hesitating for a moment she threw herself in their arms for a tight hug. “You are safe now.” They press their body against Jill’s making her feel their curves through their clothes which didn’t hide that much, before they back away. By that time Susan, the mother of the apologetic girl, had walk off due to being insulted by the redhead and being outnumbered. “Name’s Moira, Moira Barnes.” They wore just a top and shorts along with an open jacket. “What’s yours?”

“It’s Jill..” She smile as she gave her name. They still stood close to each other. The welcome she got wasn’t the kind she expect, but at least she was greeted with some warmth. “Thanks for that.” Jill said it to Moira, but look past the redhead and catch the eyes of the daughter who was left alone after their mother had walk off. She gave them a small nod for standing up against their mother for her.

Moira shook her head. “It was nothing, didn’t go much better with me either.” She cough as if covering up what she had just told Jill, but then she flash her a wavering smile. “So.. If you need anything let me know.” After that Moira kind of drift off and walk away. They look beaten.

Jill could see that despite the friendly greeting Moira was disappointed for her not being there to rescue them.. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you good news. She finally turn to close the door and then look around the library which was big enough to have two floors, though the second floor was only a walkway that circle around the walls. To her left were the shelves containing the public police records and in the corner was a closed off private reading room. On her right were the stairs to the second floor of the library and past them directly under the walkway was the door that lead out to the second floor of the main hall with more shelves beside it with books on a variety of subjects. There were more people around the room, but Jill approach the woman’s daughter who loiter by the public records after the argument.

“Hey.” Jill greet the daughter and gave her a reassuring smile before asking “You okay?” They seem shaken by the little scene they caused. The blonde was quiet and look at the shelves, she look at Jill only from the corner of her eye as if they were shy or intimidated by Jill.

The daughter nod, first meekly and then again with a soft smile. “Yeah.” She look over her shoulder towards her mother, Susan, to see that they were further away browsing some book. “She’s a bitch..” They sigh and then chuckle before they offer their hand for a shake. “I’m Lena.” They shook hands, but their grip linger for a while. Lena whisper a question. “You wouldn’t have have a bottle on you?” She then follow it up by showing a shiv that was hidden in their pocket. “Could have given this for it. I don’t want to fight, I just want to get wasted.”

Hearing what Lena had said made Jill squeeze their hand gently, even caressing it softly with her thumb as they held hands. “Sorry, I don’t have one.” The regret for drinking the brandy earlier almost cross her mind, but Jill knew that she need that break and so had Juno who was there to help her to empty that bottle with her.. Among other things. “I will let you know if I find something, okay?” Jill gave her an empty promise just to cheer them up. She thought it was better for them to keep a clear head, but on the other hand she herself got wasted just a little while ago so.. I will decide on that later. If she would find a bottle she might consider giving it to Lena in exchange for a weapon. Jill gently pull her hand away and gave Lena a pat on the back.

Who else is here.. Jill gaze over the rest of the room. An older gentleman was seated in an armchair by the door of the main hall with a younger man leaning against the wall next to them while having a smoke. Then there was a girl with auburn hair who was joined by Moira, the redhead Jill had already met. She was about to go talk to them when she heard an odd sound, a groan or perhaps a moan, which was followed by rustling coming from the reading room. Jill move quietly to get a closer look. [Skill challenge 4, Jill succeeds with intrigue down at 6.] The door of the reading room was unlocked and she open it just enough to see inside. Jill saw two women in the middle of putting their clothes back on. The other was wore an uniform, though their shirt was open and show a teasing sight.. Jenny Bailey. Jill knew their name and remember that they were a patrol police, but she couldn’t recall much more about them. Their short blonde hair was messy and the bare skin Jill saw through their open shirt was glistering with sweat. They had their pants on, but their belt was unbuckled.

“Fuck, that was good..” Jenny sigh as she buckle her belt and check their equipment. “You keep this up and I will protect you well.” Jill felt disgusted upon seeing the way Jenny bit their lower lip. They use their position as a police officer to get favors. “Just remember that I will get it when I want it.. Otherwise I might just leave you behind.”

At their feet lay a young girl with long dark hair. They were breathing heavily, their legs were spread and their skirt was discarded beside them. Only thing that cover their body was their shirt which was open like Jenny’s, but unlike the officer’s shirt theirs missed some buttons that were torn off and scattered around them. With trembling hands she push herself to sit up and then went to tie their messy hair on a ponytail to try to fix their appearance. “Just.. Just say when.”

Jill close the door and back away. At least they didn’t notice me. She knew that knowing the group dynamic could be helpful, but being too curious might get her in trouble. This time Jill got lucky.

Next she approach the men, but once she got closer the young man smirk and push himself off the wall and put himself between her and the seated gentleman. “We are not interested in your goods, lady.” He sneer at Jill and motion dismissively towards her frame with his hand. He look at her like a piece of meat waiting to be used.

“Let her pass, son.” The gentleman laugh and then apologize. “Tommy can be a bit overzealous.” The older man was wearing an overcoat with a fur collar and a fedora. They lay their eyes on Jill and indulge himself by measuring her worth with his gaze before speaking up again. “Would you be interested in shopping?” He pat the suitcase that was next to his chair. “Abraham Sanford, peddler.” His voice had charm which his harsh looking eyes lacked. He was in his late fourties, maybe early fifties. “My inventory is small at the moment with the way I had very little time to back up my things before coming here.” He look over Jill once more, this time focusing on what she carry rather than on her curves. “To think of it.. You look like someone who can handle themselves.” Abraham then look at Tommy with a sly smile which clearly frustrate them, but before he could say anything he address Jill again. “Would you like to help me to retrieve my inventory? It’s in the Apple Inn hotel, not far from here.” He snort and laugh “I’m only asking because my boy Tommy here is too afraid of doing it by themselves.”

“Fuck that.” Tommy huff at Abraham and correct him. “I’m not that stupid to pull such a stunt on my own, there is a difference.” He then look at Jill which had the annoyed expression melt away in favor of another sneer “But your idea isn’t half bad, she looks good.” It was clear that he was talking more about Jill’s features rather than about the way she carry herself, but either way Tommy was sold on the idea. “What do you say, lady?”

“You can call me Jill.” She spoke past Tommy not to enoucare him or give him the satisfaction, but Jill did consider the task. “I won’t promise anything, not yet at least.” She gave Tommy a glance. Their jeans were rugged, the leather jacket worn out and he fit the image of a paid thug. Still they were handsome, but their leering made it clear they were trouble.. He is undressing me in his mind. Jill wasn’t too keen on the idea of going out to the streets with a guy like him, but if the items there or the reward for retrieving them was worth it she might just risk it. “What exactly did you leave back at the hotel?”

Abraham’s smile turn into a smirk. “This and that.” He didn’t give an answer, but it was enough to imply that whatever was at the hotel was illegal. “Medicine, spare parts.. Whatever you might need.” He then shrug and lean back in his chair “We can negotiate the reward and I might just give you a better deal for the items I have with me right now if you are willing to help us with this matter.”

[Unlocked a merchant : Abraham Sanford]

A peddler and a smuggler accompanied by a paid thug.. Jill felt uneasy. The reward might be good, but involving herself with people like them was a great risk. She doubt that failure or being in debt to them would turn out well. “I have to think this over.” She would decide on that later.

Excusing herself Jill left the men alone. She could still feel each of them follow her with their gaze, both with different interests. The last person she hadn’t talk to was the girl with auburn hair who was with Moira. As she approach them she saw Moira already putting on a bright smile and waving Jill to join them. At least someone likes me.

“Jill!” Moira greet her again and despite the earlier disappointment they look much more hopeful now. “Greta here told me who you were.” She look almost excited as she point at the girl with auburn hair. “She remembers you from the papers.”

“You are from S.T.A.R.S.. Jill Valentine, right?” Greta said it as if she was asking, but it was more like she was seeking for confirmation for something she already knew. “I told Moira who you were and that we are going to be okay now that you are here.” Greta’s hope and trust for Jill was great despite the fact the news she recognize the former S.T.A.R.S. member had covered Jill’s suspension from the police force. She took Jill’s hand and playfully tug her closer between her and Moira so that she could whisper into her ear. “I won’t tell anyone else who you are, but I believe in you. You will get us out.”

Hot breath.. Jill was between the two, each standing close to her and Greta’s breath wash over her neck. “T-Thanks.” She stutter back quietly and linger between them until it start to become too much. The attention she receive after witnessing what took place in the reading room was distracting. “Is there any other officers here?

Greta nod and nod towards the upper walkway. “There is two officers right above us.” She let go off Jill’s hand and step away after adding “They are still trying.. The third one is just..” She drift off. Greta didn’t say more about it. “I don’t think they care what happens to us.” They were talking about Jenny, the officer Jill had seen dress up after using and blackmailing one of the survivors.

“I will go talk to the officers upstairs and see what comes out of it.” Jill rest her hand on Greta’s shoulder to comfort them. “Just hang in there, both of you.” She look Greta and Moira in the eyes with determination, trying her best to give them a reason to believe in her despite Jill herself wasn’t sure what to do. Jill gave them a quick smile as she head towards the stairs. I hope they will listen and hear me out.

Make note that we have two votes this time!

[What items the merchant should sell?]

[Vote for what Jill should do]

[ernmark]

I love your fics so much! If your not too busy manybe you could do another superpowered soulmate au where peter notices how tired juno is whenever he gets back from a trip but juno tries to hide the fact that he cant sleep without peter around cause he doesnt want him to feel guilty

I may have started listening to The Bright Sessions a few days ago, so if I start channeling Caleb... well, they’ve got similar things to be insecure about.

Superpowered Soulmate AU | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (NSFW) | Part 5

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Positive. Peter, I’m fine.” 

I know I don’t look fine. I haven’t looked in a mirror in days, but Peter’s taking inventory in his head: the circles under my eyes are dark enough that they almost look like they’re tattooed on; my skin is oily and grimy from god-only-knows how many days I’ve gone without a shower; he can smell cheap whiskey on my skin and on my breath and on clothes that I probably should probably have washed before I put them back on. 

That part worries him. I don’t drink nearly as much as I used to-- for the most part. But then he leaves Hyperion City on his little business trips, and I can’t help it. Without him around, the other voices are too loud, too much. Booze is the only thing that dulls them enough that I can sleep.  

But he doesn’t need to know that. 

It’s bad enough as it is, feeling the waves of concern radiating off him. He’s worried if I’m sick. He’s wondering if something happened to send me on a one-way trip to the bottom of a bottle. He’s concerned that I didn’t say something to him, and concerned that maybe I couldn’t.

“Nothing happened,” I tell him. “This is just a... a thing. It happens sometimes. It’s nothing to get worked up over, really. I just didn’t get a chance to clean up before you got home, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting you back today.” 

“An opportunity presented itself, and I took it,” he says with more calm than he feels. His thoughts are anxious: Was he planning to hide it from me?

“It’s not like that,” I say hastily. “I’m just a slob sometimes when you’re not around. It’s not a big deal.”

It occurs to me a second too late that the more I insist it’s not a big deal, the more convinced he is that it really is. I should just drop it, and maybe he can stop worrying about me.

Juno--

“Alright.” Abruptly the torrent of his thoughts dries up. He’s gotten better about clearing his mind in the past few months-- probably necessary when you’re in a relationship with a mindreader. The concern is still there, as persistant as the sounds of traffic from outside, but it’s not active in his thoughts anymore. As much as he wants to know what’s going on with me, he’s not going to push me. And I appreciate that. I can’t even tell him how much that means to me. “So tell me, have you eaten?”

“I-- no,” I say, and I glance at the fridge. I don’t think I’ve gotten groceries since before he left. “Do you want to go out?”

“That sounds nice.” 

I thought that a nice, normal dinner might calm him down, but it doesn’t. Right now I’m more tired than I am hungry, and the way I pick at my food is only making him suspicious-- and when I try to act normal, he gets even more suspicious. He’s not putting together theories about what might actually be wrong, but only because he keeps stopping himself before those thoughts can get very far. 

He’s really not going to be able to let this go, is he?

Goddammit. 

And I’d managed to keep him from finding out about it for so long. I should have known I’d screw it up eventually.

I keep the conversation going until we finish dinner, but it’s a struggle for both of us. Thinking through Peter’s worry is like trying to wade through high water. Still, I manage to keep my mouth shut until we get in the car.

“I’m not sick, okay?” I say the moment he’s behind the wheel.

“Yes, you did say so.” He crushes the thought as soon as it arises, but I still get the gist: he thinks I’m lying. 

“I’m not. I haven’t been sleeping.” I don’t even need to read his mind to know how much that sounds like an excuse. 

“No?” he says politely.

Goddammit. “It’s the mindreading. It makes it hard to sleep. It’s easier when I’m with you, but when you’re gone, it’s just...” I shake my head. “But that’s all it is. Just give me a couple days to sleep it off, and I’ll be back to normal.” 

Maybe I sounded a little more believable that time, because his mind is going in directions I don’t want it to go. “I take it this isn’t the first time this has happened.” 

“No.”

“And the last time I left Hyperion City...” 

“Like I said, it’s fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” 

That answers that question. And then he starts putting together plans, and that’s the last thing I wanted. 

“Peter, don’t.”

“I haven’t done anything,” he says lightly.

“A little insomnia isn’t going to kill me. I don’t want you to stop leaving town because of me.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “I think that’s my decision to make.”

I’m scrambling. “It’s mine, too, isn’t it? If I’m fine with this, then that’s my right, isn’t it? It’s-- it’s bad enough that you’re stuck on this planet because of me-- I don’t want you to be trapped in this city, too.” 

I clamp my mouth shut. That wasn’t supposed to get out.

Peter frowns, and his brow furrows. “Juno, I don’t feel trapped.” 

“Not yet, maybe,” I mumble. “Listen, I can handle a few nights without sleep. What I can’t handle is putting you in a spot where you-- where you’re going to start resenting me.” I hate putting it into words. It feels like I’m planting the idea in his head.

“I’ll... keep that in mind,” he says, and there’s a pause as he parks the car. The inside of his head is a jumble as he tries to put his thoughts in order. When he looks up at me, though, he’s sure. “Juno, I like our life together. I wouldn’t give it up for anything.”

“Not even your freedom?” I ask, raw.

He gives me an odd look. “Oh, come now, Juno. If I wanted to be free of you, I’d have killed you already.” I’m pretty sure a normal person wouldn’t find that comforting, but I do-- even more so than the kiss he presses into my forehead. “ But I don’t want that. Your trouble sleeping might give me another factor or two to take into consideration while I make arrangements, but it’s nothing insurmountable. Perhaps I’ll bring you with me.”

Six months ago, I would have insisted I couldn’t spare the time. By now, though, I know I won’t be good for much of anything until he’s back, anyway. 

“Actually, that sounds pretty nice.”