#semper-miles

[primamchorus]

💖 thank you for leaving such nice and thoughtful tags on my first ffxivwrite this year! I really appreciate how you mentioned the setting of Burakh's home in his fathers' bonsai nursery as a character in itself; i didn't originally intend for it to shake out that way, but your comment made me reread my own piece and come away enjoying that extra aspect. I was definitely torn between not describing the environment enough, versus describing it in a way that makes sense for the POV of a character like Vira, who isn't learned but enjoys their friendship with Burakh (and Burakh as a person). I haven't written for myself in a very long time and your tags have really spurred me to keep writing. Thank you so much for your kindness and appreciation 💖

This is so sweet! Thank you for such a kind message!

I'm glad that my tags allowed you to reread your work and see it with an extra perspective to appreciate it more! I'm really happy to see that they also lit a creative fire for you. ♥

I also totally get it with writing a lot of descriptors that it feels like the characters are a bit overshadowed, but I think you did a pretty good job lacing the characters and the setting together. :> I was very taken with it.

I look forward to the next piece you end up putting out there!

[asxgard]

Semper Fi | [6/8]

Dr. Jack Abbot x f!doctor!reader

Previous | Next

Summary: You deal with the aftermath of the shooting and you take the next step with Jack.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Note: I love them a lot…I’m sad we’re getting closer to the end.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: age gap, therapy, feelings, foul language, afab!reader, SMUT (MINORS DNI), p in v, oral (f! & m! receiving), mild dirty talk, mild praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, honey)

not beta read

Jack recommended therapy in the aftermath of the college shooting — seeing that something had shifted in you. Just barely, but enough that he had taken notice. Despite not being present for the shooting, you still subtly flinched at loud noises whenever the two of you were out together. He picked up on the way you had begun to watch the ambulance doors in more than just simple anticipation.

You seemed more restless, too, prone to the occasional nightmare that had you staying at Jack’s apartment a lot more frequently.

While you knew there was a stigma, you still ended up searching for a therapist. You always wanted to be the best doctor you could be, never wanting to bring your personal baggage through the door because it was affecting putting your best foot forward.

Dr. Nelson was pleasant and easy to talk to. She had been recommended by Kiara, the day shift social worker, when you arrived early enough to sneak a conversation with her about it. Her office was only a few miles from the hospital, and she did Zoom appointments when that was easier for you.

You had compartmentalized well enough from your early med school days that there were no groundbreaking revelations to be had — just quiet understanding and a lighter feeling in your chest. Dr. Nelson started with Dr. Tate, though you ended up keeping him nameless, more so for your own peace of mind.

It seemed like your feeling of helplessness was apparent with both your old hospital and the recent shooting. Dr. Nelson helped talk you through techniques about regaining control where you could, something that usually always helped you, and letting go of it in a healthy way, and not feeling lost without it.

Easier said than done, but you were working on it.

While the nightmares eased, nights at Jack’s did not. The nights were cozy and the moments unmistakably yours. The mornings after shift were easy, usually ending with you both tangled in Jack’s sheets after he shut the blackout curtains, sleep finding you not long after.

Humming softly to yourself, you scrambled some eggs in a pan, hair still slightly wet from your shower. One of Jack’s old military t-shirts hung loosely on your frame, sleeves slightly frayed from overuse, just barely covering your ass. You still loved it, wearing his things — it smelled like him and it was soft on your skin.

You felt his eyes on you, sitting at the kitchen island. You turned your head to smile at him, mildly sleepy from your shift, but completely relaxed. It was easy to enjoy the quiet with him, the silence of the morning before you both turned in to go to bed.

“I love you.”

You nearly dropped the spatula, looking at him with wide eyes. He had said it like he had mentioned the sky being blue, a casual state of a fact — and with unmistakably certainty and care.

The feeling had been lingering in your chest for some time, and it swelled every time you met his gaze, a thousand things being said without any words. That warmth creeped up from your chest to your throat, emotion pulling tight while your heart soared. Your eyes quickly grew glassy and you took several steps closer to him.

“I love you, too, Jack.”

A large grin overtook his features, and he was out of his seat and in your arms within seconds. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held onto him tightly, smiling wide against his neck.

Wrapping his arms around your hips, he lifted you up and you let out a quiet gasp. You felt him move toward the stove and turn off the burner. You instinctively brought your legs up and around his waist, trying not to fall.

His lips found yours with practiced ease, and he hummed, slipping a tongue into your mouth. You let him devour you, one hand moving to his curls and tugging gently.

You were on the bed in the next moment, a breath of air escaping your lungs. You stared up at him while he undid his scrub bottoms. His intense gaze on you made heat pool low, making your pussy throb.

He discarded his shirt, but you were not able to admire him long before he was kissing up your leg, lingering on your thighs. He trailed his tongue up, closing in on where you wanted him most, but he diverted to kiss along your hip. His hand moved up your torso, pushing up his t-shirt to expose you fully to him.

You whined, hands fisting the bedsheets. You tried to convince yourself he might have mercy on you.

“Jack.”

“I ain’t in a rush, sweetheart.” He told you, tone husky, “Say it again.”

He planted an open mouthed kiss where your leg met your pelvis and your head felt empty of thoughts. You had enough sense to give him what he was after, “I love you, Jack.”

The vibration his hum sent through your body was cruel, and you reached for him. His shoulders, his hair, anything. You needed to pull him back to you, meet his lips and anchor you — otherwise, you feared you might float away on a cloud of pure ecstasy. His hot breath fanned over your panties, making you shiver.

“Again.”

Fuck, this man was going to be the death of you.

“I love you.”

He pulled your panties down tantalizingly slow. You met his eyes, and the heat in his eyes sent a pulse down making you try to squeeze your thighs together.

He placed a hand right above your knee and kept your legs from closing, “Don’t think so, sweetheart. Look how pretty you are.”

“Please.” You begged. For his hands. His mouth, His cock. Anything.

“Gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart.”

You groaned, cheeks heating as arousal pooled, hot and pulsing, in your core. You swallowed thickly, “Please, I want your mouth.”

A wolfish grin overtook his features, and he hummed. He kissed your hip again, “Here?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands. You let out a long breath before looking at him again. “Eat me out, Jack, please.”

He obliged, his mouth finally meeting your wet heat, licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You jolted at the sensation, hands gripping the sheets again, as a low moan escaped your throat.

He licked, sucked, and treasured your pussy more than any man ever had in the past — and the feeling was making your thoughts grow hazy. You closed your eyes and tried to keep from squirming underneath him.

His mouth was gone, and you felt a rush of cold air from where his saliva was.

“Need those eyes on me, honey, otherwise I’m gonna stop.”

Something hot twisted in your stomach, and you looked down at him. His hands squeezed your thighs and pulled you down to meet his mouth. His eyes held steady on you, and fire licked up your core, burning every nerve in their wake.

You moaned his name and resisted the urge to throw your head back.

There was a low groan from Jack, and the vibration made you roll your eyes back, before you blinked them back open to look at him. His eyes were intense, and they nearly made you feel self conscious, if it wasn’t for the way they also were incredibly tender.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, sweetheart, never gonna get enough of you.”

Your hips moved just enough to search for his mouth again, and Jack moved back down to lick expertly on your clit. The coil wound tight in your core, and heat flushed through you. You spent so much time trying to focus on his hazel eyes that your orgasm came in a rush, without any warning.

You cried out, heat burning through your bloodstream. Jack’s mouth followed you as you squirmed, your release rocking through you. His tongue kept at it, until it bordered close to pain and overstimulation.

“Fuck, fuck, Jack—” you lightly pushed at his head, hoping he might catch the hint.

He gave a kiss to your clit, before discarding his boxers. He crawled up your body, leaving wet kisses up your abdomen. You moved to start taking off his shirt.

“No, let make love to you in it.”

The words went straight to your pussy, and you clenched around nothing. Make love. Jack didn’t seem the sort, but you were completely enthralled in finding out how he would make love to you. While you weren’t always rough with each other, he was not always exactly tender with you.

The kiss was wet and messy, and you tasted yourself on his tongue. You moaned into his mouth, gripping onto his shoulders to try to ground yourself.

Jack was quick to put on the condom, and push against your entrance. You kept your eyes on his, spreading your legs wide to accommodate him. He pushed in slowly, allowing you only a few moments to adjust before he was thrusting back out. It burned slightly as he stretched you, and you let out a high-pitched whine. He gripped your thigh tightly, kneading at your flesh.

“Doing so good.” He kissed along your jaw.

You wrapped your legs around him, and he leaned down to capture your lips. His tongue won easily, and you followed his lead, hands tangling in his hair. He groaned low in his throat and you pulsed at the sound.

“You take me so well, honey, look at that.” He was glancing down at where your bodies met, his cock driving in and out of you.

Tears gathered in your eyes — either from the intensity, the pleasure building, or the feelings you had for him. Perhaps even all three.

“You feel so good—fuck—love being so full of you.” You whispered, lips parted.

He laid so he was completely flush against you and you squeezed him tighter with your legs around his hips.

“Yeah? I’ve got you.” His breath was in your ear, kissing the shell of your ear before he was looking at you again. “You’re so beautiful.”

The pace he set was languid, stopping occasionally while he was nestled deep inside you to savor it. He kept brushing against the spongy spot inside you and the coil was back, deep in your abdomen, heat working its way outwards.

He moaned out your name, and delved exactly how he felt in the passionate kiss, and you accepted it all greedily. You drank it in, fingers tightening on his back until you were sure there would be indents from your nails on his skin. As that familiar wave approached, you felt completely drunk off him.

His pelvic bone kept brushing against your swollen clit, and the coil tightened. Your breathing came in shallow pants, kissing along Jack’s shoulder and throat. The feeling was growing to be too much and you whimpered.

“Jack—I—I—”

He hushed you, “I know, honey. Come on, be good and come on my cock, yeah? Know you want to.”

Your second release kept growing until you were sure there was nowhere else for it to go. It was too much, heat exploding through your core as you teetered over the edge. All the while, Jack was looking deeply into your eyes, unable to tear himself away.

“Let me see.” He encouraged, kissing open mouthed up your neck until he was staring down at you. “You look so beautiful when you come on my cock.”

You shattered around his cock, and cried out his name. Your eyes shut quickly before you opened them wide, back arching off the bed, pussy fluttering around him. White hot euphoria exploded across your vision, the intensity making you feel completely incoherent.

Jack fucked you through your orgasm while he was hurtling toward his own, eyebrows drawn in.

“Fuck, Jack, I love you so much.”

His groan was loud and obscene, his next thrusts fast and hard, rocking through your body.

His heart thundered in his chest as you moved your hands over the plains of his body. He kissed along your hairline before kissing you deeply. You kept your legs wrapped securely around him.

“Let me savor this just a bit longer.”

Jack nodded, burying his face in your neck, catching his breath. You wrapped your arms around him and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. The room smelled like sex, but your thoughts swam at the warm smell of him.

Shifting slightly to look at you, he offered a small smile, whispering softly, “I love you.”

You grinned.

The cold eggs afterwards were the best meal you had had in years.

—

It was magnetic, the way Jack’s eyes were always able to find you, even in all the chaos of the Pitt. It felt instinctive now and just flat out undeniable to anyone in the ED to know how he felt.

While your ray of sunshine demeanor did not disappear, it had dimmed for a time — as you took a more reserved approach to your patients. He was glad to see you brightening again, the smile you carried was nearly infectious. Jack had no care for satisfaction scores, but it was not hard to know you had the best scores out of all of them.

It was no wonder why day shift was fighting to have you — but Jack protested at every turn, going toe-to-toe with Robby whenever he brought it up.

“Gloria’s on my ass. We need reinforcements and she’d be perfect.”

The tiniest frown pulled at Jack’s mouth, though his stony expression didn’t waver. “Need her on nights, man. Sorry.”

“That the only reason?” Robby’s eyebrow quirked upward, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Yup. I know we’re both short staffed, but you’ve got more hands than I do. You’ve been managing just fine. Can’t afford to lose her.”

“Not just because you’re dating?”

Jack attempted to look nonchalant, glancing up at the board with his arms crossed. “Nope.”

Robby let out a huff of air, “Alright, I’ll keep her on the schedule for nights. Can’t promise Gloria won’t march down here one of these days…dayshift might be more appealing.”

Jack shrugged simply, “So you keep saying.”

Robby chuckled before departing for the night. Jack let out a long sigh, eyes finding you easily as you approached the charge desk.

“That seemed serious.” You said, grabbing a tablet.

“They’re trying to poach you to work dayshift.”

You raised an amused eyebrow. “Are they now?”

Jack grunted, which for whatever reason, made you grin affectionately at him.

“For what it’s worth, I’d like to stay on nights. Bias aside, I’ve learned to enjoy it.” You told him. “And it’s not so bad to work with my tough, ruggedly handsome senior attending.”

“Don’t let HR hear you say that.” But he was smiling.

“We say worse down here.” You laughed, “Besides, I don’t think Singh would mind.”

His eyes snapped to yours, taking in your devilish grin. He took the challenge easily.

“That right? I suppose my date in the morning is now just a solo breakfast.”

You chuckled, “Alright, alright. Correction: my tough, ruggedly handsome chief attending.“

Jack settled, and there was a playful edge to his voice, “Sure you’re not talkin’ ‘bout Robby now?”

“No,” You said, nose crinkling despite your grin. “He might be a chief attending, but he surely isn’t mine.”

Jack’s chest swelled, something burning low in his abdomen that he tried to brush aside. He set his shoulders back and gave a firm nod, “Damn straight.”

You sighed in contentment, clicking a few times on the tablet, “I’m glad they’ll have to go through you first.”

His eyes moved to yours, gently taking in your features. He was glad you wanted to stay on nights, and he met your eyes which was answer enough. Jack was a man of few words, but you always had a habit of reading him like an open book.

You waved over Ellis to assist you with whatever case you had picked up, and he scanned the board again before getting to work.

After a few patients, and one trauma coming in by ambulance, he found your voice around the Pitt was a remedy all on its own. He had never tried to make you feel like you had needed to heal him, or even fix him, but you were, in your own way. Softly and quietly, and loving him without hesitation.

Jack was proud to be the man you had chosen to be by your side.

—

Moving in together came as softly as your relationship had, slow to start and then all at once. It made more sense than many things in your life, as you had quietly and without fanfare invaded his. Clothes in his closet, your favorite tea in his cupboard, your shampoo in his shower, slippers tucked under the edge of his bed, sheets tangled with the smell of you. Effortless, yet full of care.

You were packing boxes even though the question had not been asked aloud. Just a simple, “You shouldn’t renew your lease.” So you didn’t.

Jack hadn’t really needed to make space for you, as you had steadily made the apartment yours over time, filling it with warmth. There had been an emptiness sitting in corners and dusty shelves that you filled easily, with knicknacks and picture frames and plants that grew mostly out of spite. Your tender touch had made the place a home in more ways than one — making the space lived in and cozy.

After years of moving on in small bursts, his apartment was never quite bare, but it hardly had a personal touch, always ready to leave the apartment if he ever needed to. With a flourish of a sigh like Jack let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding, it felt like Jack finally settled into the home you had helped create. More than just the material things that now decorated his walls, but the way he was able to relax as soon as he stepped into it.

You knew about his wife — more so knew of her, and little bits of what had happened. You never tried to replace her in his life, despite it having been years since she had passed, and you had carved out your own place in his life.

Living together presented new types of challenges, but also an array of new memories to be had. Quiet domestic life had completely pulled you in and you would be lying if you said you didn’t love it. You also loved the thrill of keeping him on his toes.

Jack was leaning against the kitchen counter, dishes done behind him, phone in hand — likely reading something on NPR. You moved into the kitchen with a sultry smile. He glanced at you quickly, eyes going back to his phone, but then they snapped back over to you. Maybe it was the way you were moving or the look on your face, but he set his phone aside.

He raised a simple eyebrow.

You kissed him, slow yet deliberate, pushing your chest against his. He hummed against your mouth. You ran your hands over the crotch of his pants, hard enough to feel but some enough to be teasing. You could feel him begin to tense under you and your heart began to race.

“You always make me feel so good,” you murmured against his lips. “Wanna return the favor.”

“You always make me feel good, sweetheart.”

“I wanna taste you.” You said, opening your eyes to look at him, eyelids hooded with desire.

He watched you for several beats of your heart, hands on your hips.

“Please.”

His eyes darkened and he let go of you. You took it as permission, undoing the button and sliding your hand into his pants. He was already half hard and you salivated at the thought of having your mouth on him. Desire pulsed low.

You got down on your knees, Jack’s heavy gaze on you, and you pulled down his pants as you eased to the floor. Your eyes looked up through your lashes to meet his eyes. His intensity never failed to go straight to your core.

You palmed him through his boxers before pulling them down his legs. You trailed a few kisses along his thighs, looking up at him. You grabbed his length in one hand and licked the slit, tasting the salty pre-cum that had balled at the tip.

His eyes flickered closed, his hands gripping onto the counter. He opened his eyes again to watch as you took him into your mouth. A long sigh escaped his nose. You swirled your tongue around the head, allowing a bit of saliva to drip, helping as you pumped what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

You brought as much as you could into your mouth, feeling him in the back of your throat. You held him there, before bobbing your head and trying not to choke. You felt his abdomen tense, a moan so soft and devine slipping passed his lips.

Keening, you locked eyes. You smiled around his cock and he cursed. You relaxed your jaw, tongue going flat on the underside of his cock. You breathed through your nose and deepthroated him again, before bringing your tongue to swirl around his tip again.

“Fuck, do that again.”

You released him with a wet pop. “Gotta ask nicer than that, baby.”

Something dangerous flickered in his eyes, filling your chest with excitement.

“Sweetheart, can you do that again…please?”

You smiled at the tiny victory, taking him back into your mouth and sucking him off eagerly. Your mouth worked on his tip, hand twisting around the base, taking him deeper again. You felt his belly tense again, his balls tightening. You kept your pace until he let out a guttural groan, coming down your throat. You moaned around him.

Jack was panting when you released him, licking a final time to catch anything you might have missed, and he hissed with a shiver. You were grinning at him when his eyes found yours.

He pulled you up sharply, claiming your mouth in a passionate open mouthed kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, allowing him to lick and bite your lips. He let go of you and you let out some air, taking a step back.

His hand was on your neck, pulling you back to him.

“Oh,” his grin was wicked. “You think I’m done with you?”

[ Next ]

want to join any of my taglists? shoot me a message!

Semper Fi: @rosiepoise88 @stelliferousphoenix @fancyvoidtragedy @lauraneedstochill

Dr. Abbot taglist: @flyinglama @valhallavalkyrie9 @melancholyy-hill @travelingmypassion @yournerdmodziata @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sarah-the-bird-nerd @artsymaddie @partofthelouniverse @woodxtock @rachel2494 @looneylooomis

The Pitt taglist: @cannonindeez @spoiledflor @kittenhawkk @nessamc @thatchickwiththecamera @sharkluver @loud-mouph @ksyn-faith @sunfairyy @dragonsondragons @mischiefsemimanaged @pastelbunnelby @jetjuliette @that-one-fangirl69 @moonlightmvrvel @andabuttonnose @boldlyherdream @cosmosnkaz @brnesblogposts

All: @nixandtonic

mmmm I love domestic jack

next part is Pittfest and will be angsty for many different reasons😬

…also?? I love them a lot, I’m not ready to give them up in only a few more parts😭I’ve enjoyed this story so much

[yanderedrabbles]

Misery - Part Three

Based on Misery by Stephen King

Stuck in the mountains, you foolishly decide to drive through a blizzard. The man that drags you from your wrecked car brings you to his cabin and patches you up. But as the snow piles up outside, you start to suspect that your rescuer's intentions may be far from pure.

Previous Chapter

After Andy left, you managed to change out of your clothes. The flannel shirt he gave you was worn down just enough to feel cozy and the smell of his cologne still lingered 'round the collar.

You settled against the headboard and almost dozed off before he came back. He'd taken off his jacket and carried a pile of firewood in his arms. He dumped the logs in the fireplace and stood up, revealing a wife beater and arms thick with muscle. You were right about his strength - his body was just further proof of it.

"Sorry 'bout that. I should have brought some in last night but well..."

He turned to you, dusting his hands. "I got a good look at the situation outside. You might not wanna hear it but we're totally snowed in. Phone lines are down too."

"Oh. I didn't realise it was that bad."

You felt a dull sort of trepidation. Andy had been nothing but kind to you, but being stuck out in the mountains frightened you.

"Any idea when things will open up again?"

He sat down in the chair beside your bed and stretched out. For a second, the only thought in your head was how dangerous and lean he looked. His dog tags caught the light and winked at you.

"Hard to tell. We're far off the beaten path. Only folks nearby are the Roydmans and they're a good few miles off. 'Sides, snows too deep to drive through so even if they clear off the main road, we ain't getting there anytime soon."

You felt your heart sink. "Do you think I need to go to the hospital?"

He raised a brow and skimmed his eyes across your body. "It ain't looking pretty, but I reckon you can handle it."

"Hurts like hell though."

"Sorry princess, but it'll take a while for this sort of hurt to heal. Best I can do is give you something strong for the pain."

Your ankle still throbbed mercilessly and hearing him say that made you all the more aware of it. You searched desperately around the room for a distraction.

The room was much larger than you realised, with a panelled wood ceiling and big bay windows. From your position, all you could see was the sky.

It was comfortable and starkly clean. Oh God, was this his room or a guest room?

"I haven't kicked you out of your room, have I?" you asked, suddenly unsure of yourself.

He grinned and rubbed his jaw. "I reckoned you needed a nice bed far more than I did."

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" Your hands fluttered to your lips. You felt terribly guilty. "I can't imagine how much I've put you out."

He waved you away. "It gets awful quiet up here. You have no idea how nice it is to have company."

His eyes dropped to the shirt you were wearing. "Real nice."

He reached up to play around with his dog tags and you finally noticed the tattoo across his forearm.

"Semper Fidelis?"

"Always loyal."

He reached forward and let you inspect his arm. You took hold of his wrist and traced the tattoo with your fingertips. The words themselves were small and neat, but the rest of it was an intricate pattern of barbed wire that wound round his forearm.

"Did it hurt?"

"Tell you the truth? It stung like a bitch."

He was watching your face and when you looked up at him, your eyes met. Those eyes on the other end of a gun would have sent you running for the hills. You pitied the soldiers that faced off against him.

You let go of his arm and swallowed.

"When did you get it?"

He let his forearm rest next to your thigh.

"When I was deployed for the first time."

He was close enough that you caught the scent of his cologne and the sweet smell of pine from the wood he chopped.

"How did you end up in the Marines anyway?"

"I've got you curious, do I?"

You felt yourself blush. "Maybe a little."

"Hmm." He rubbed at his jaw, like he was trying to rub away a smile.

"Maybe I'll tell you about it someday. For now though, you need to take some tablets and get some sleep."

"But what about you? I've kind of colonised your bed."

"First thing you learn in basic is to sleep standing up. I'll be fine sleeping on the couch. 'Sides, I ain't the one who went crashing off the road less than a day ago."

He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a blister pack of tablets.

"These are Novril. They pack a hell of a punch, so I expect you to sleep through the rest of the day. Best thing you can do right now is rest, got it?"

"Yes sir."

He dropped two shiny white pills into your open palm.

"Good girl. Now drink up."

He passed you a glass of water from the nightstand. The tablets left a slightly bitter taste behind, but you hurt too much to mind it.

Outside, the snow started up again.

You smiled at him. "How am I ever supposed to repay you?"

He studied you for a second.

The shirt you borrowed was missing a few buttons near the top and gaped open just a little at your tits, but you were too drowsy to notice.

He grinned that slow, lazy smile of his. "I'm sure you'll think of something, princess."

You hadn't fully realised just how intimate this all was. You were wearing his clothes. Sleeping in his bed. Entirely reliant on him to take care of you.

He stood up and shook his head.  "You must be hungry. Any requests?"

"Nope. I'll take anything at this point."

His eyes flickered to your chest and then quickly away. "I can make you regret that real fast, y'know."

"Come on, you can't be that bad of a chef."

He huffed and shook his head. "You just sit pretty and I'll be back."

He returned with a bowl of oats sprinkled with brown sugar. His fingers brushed yours when he handed it to you and he lingered for a second longer than needed.

"I'm afraid it's all hospital chow until you're stronger. It's too bad - I make a mean flapjack."

You played around with your spoon and then gave in. Plain oats or not, you needed your strength.

Andy was quiet while you ate, watching the snow swirl across the window.

He tugged at his dog tags again and spoke up, "Does anyone know you're out here? A boyfriend, a sibling, anyone that knows where you were headed?"

You carefully put your empty bowl down on the nightstand. With the tablets, the pain was mercifully retreating. Not gone, never entirely gone, but a tiny bit more manageable.

"No. I wanted to surprise a friend but they don't know I'm coming."

You felt unnaturally drowsy for this early in the day. He must have noticed it because he stood up and gently pressed at your shoulders.

"Lie down and I promise you'll be out like a light soon enough."

You listened to him and found your eyes drifting shut as soon as you hit the pillow.

"Y'know." Your voice was muffled by your pillow. "You're a really great guy."

"Thanks, but save that until after you're better, yeah?"

He pulled the duvet higher and carefully tucked it around your shoulders.

"Not a soul knows you're out here?"

You hummed in agreement. You were almost entirely asleep and barely felt the hand that drifted across your forehead, gently pushing the hair off your face.

"Just you and me, princess."

You didn't hear it, but there was a strange note to his voice. Fear, maybe. Or longing. Hard to tell, with how similar they can be.

Next Chapter [coming soon]

Masterlist

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@pleorexicz @lem-hhn @mybelovedjupiter

[ripeindecember]

Little oneshot thing based on this post because Nico-Will soulmateism makes me wanting to chew plastic (in a good way)

He’s born Wilfred Alexander Semper, on a hot day in the late summer of 1929, in Sioux City, Iowa. 

He’s born breech. It’s a hard labor. Dangerous. He doesn’t cry when he comes out - not at first. The doctor spends a long time trying to get his little lungs working until finally, finally, he lets out a tiny whimper, and everyone in the room breathes a sigh of relief. 

The doctor hands him off to his father, so he can help his mother with the afterbirth.

His father was a gunnery captain in the Great War, stationed near the Seine, before his birth. He holds his son, (all of his sons, really,) like they’re made of spun glass. “Hello, Will,” His father murmurs, christening him with the new nickname, here just minutes after his birth. “A man of few words already, I see.” 

Will stares back at him, baby-blues shining with unshed tears, and whimpers softly again. 

— — — 

His childhood is rough and tumble, but they’re always okay. 

The depression is hard, but his dad doesn’t lose his job. A pay-cut, maybe, but no-one in Sioux City would be willing to fire Dr. Semper, medaled war hero, and only dentist for miles. 

He remembers once, his parents talking in hushed tones about a hotel in Washington DC getting hit by lightning. How his dad thought it was actually the Germans, how he was afraid they were going back to war. How his mom said that wasn’t going to happen. 

Then, a harbor gets bombed.

Will can recall, years later, his Mother, gray faced, and his Dad, with his mouth pressed into a stern line, crowded around the radio, telling him and Mark to go to their shared room, because he was twelve and Mark was fifteen, and they didn’t need to hear this, not right now.

Lloyd was eighteen, though. He got to stay. 

Two days later, when Will and Mark are throwing a baseball outside, there’s a fight. His Mom and Dad are yelling, and so is Lloyd. He doesn’t know what it’s about at the time. 

Three years later, when a soldier comes to the door, and Will’s Mom falls to her knees with a wail, as his Dad accepts a small box and a slip of paper with a white face and trembling hands, Will understands why they were fighting. 

They have the same fight with Mark that night. Mark, freshly eighteen, and so passionate, so hot headed, so deeply loving for his brother, wants revenge.

He comes home the same way Lloyd did seven months later. 

— — —

Will decides that he can’t do that to his family again. He can’t try to follow in his Father’s war hero footsteps, and come home as a medal in a box and a slip of paper. 

He turns 18 in 1947. Goes to college for biology. Doesn’t meet anyone, doesn’t get married like so many of his friends do. He moves to San Francisco instead.  

He gets a job teaching at a middle school. 

It’s enjoyable. The people he teaches with are fun. He goes to staff parties, makes friends.

Some of the single, female teachers flirt with him politely. He doesn’t know why, but he rejects them, just as politely. 

He makes close friends with the gym teacher, Francis. They go for drinks after school, sometimes. 

“Do you ever feel,” Francis says quietly, one of those times that they’re out. “That you can’t find anyone?”

Will tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“It’s like…” Francis continues. “I know I should like the women who talk to me. I do. They’re great friends. But it’s like something isn’t right.”  

“Do you think,” Will leans in close, lowering his voice. “That you’re a homosexual?”

Francis laughs at that under his breath. “No, it's not that. I know some guys who are,” He cuts his eyes to Will in an appraising motion. “But it’s like a feelings feeling. Like I'm a double-timing a person I don’t know.” 

“Like there’s someone you belong to, but they don’t know it yet.” 

Francis nods his head. “Exactly.” 

“All the time.” Will responds. “Like there’s this piece of me that’s missing, and I don’t know where it is, or how to find it. Like it’s been locked away somewhere that I’m not allowed to go. So I just have to exist without it.”

“Like a trained horse without a jockey,” Francis snorts.

“Yeah.” 

— — —

Will and Francis stay close friends. 

San Francisco changes. People get looser, dress looser, act looser. 

On the weekends, Will makes short-lived friends in parks, clubs, and bars.

People - men and women - with long black hair and big, brown eyes. He climbs into their beds and leaves before sunrise. He doesn’t look back, and tries not to look into it.

A month before he turns forty, Francis shows up to his house with good weed, a good bottle of liquor, and they watch Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin walk on the moon. 

— — —

Francis is doing his best impression of Nixon, saying “I am not a crook!” in a wheedling little voice when the school principal steps into the lounge.

“Mr. Semper?” He interrupts.

Will looks up. “Yeah?”

“Your Mother is on the phone. It’s important.” The principal’s eyes are sad. 

Will’s heart drops into his feet. He knows what this is. He leans over and grabs the receiver off the wall, and raises it to his ear with a shaking hand. “Mama?”

“Oh, Will, baby,” she cries. “It’s your Father, he-”

“When?”

“This morning,” She sniffles out. “Stroke.”

“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” he whispers into the phone.

— — — 

Will’s Mom moves in with him, after his Dad dies. 

“So there’s no one in your life?” She asks him curiously, one afternoon.

“I’ve got you,” He deflects.

— — —

He’s distracted, driving home. He’d rolled a TV into the classroom, so his students could watch the launch of the Challenger shuttle, only for it to blow up on screen. He’d spent the rest of class comforting them.

It’s hard, dealing with gruesome death. Especially at thirteen years old.

So he doesn’t notice the light at the intersection turning red when he pulls up. He doesn’t notice the other car, barreling down his little hatchback. It takes a second to register that his car flips.

He doesn’t scream when he’s in the air. When his neck breaks, he doesn’t feel it.

— — — 

“Hello, Wilfred.” A soft, deep voice greets, from high above him. He looks up, and is greeted with a face that's all angles and pale skin.

“Where am I?” He asks. He looks out over a landscape of black sand and sagging poplar trees, growing next to a river that flows milky white. 

“The afterlife.” The man explains. “Behind you is Elysium. In front of you is the River Lethe.” 

Will blinks. “I was baptized. I should be in Heaven.” 

The tall man sighs, and purses his lips. “Believe me, I know. It was a nightmare of paperwork, getting you here.”

“Why am I here, then?”

“I have… an offer for you.”

“An offer?”

“Yes. You were alone, your whole life, were you not? You felt as if there was something missing. I’m offering you a do-over. Where I can assure you, that this time, you will not be alone. That something will not be missing. I can promise you that.”

Will stares up at the man, with his angular face, and something inside of him aches. “How? Why?”

“It is for selfish reasons.” The man admits. “But we will both benefit, in the end.” 

“What do I do?”

“You must swim in the river. I will take care of everything from there”

He looks from the man’s face, and into the calm, milky-white current. It calls to him, like a gentle lullaby. 

Wilfred Alexander Semper, who died on January 28th, 1986, at the age of 56, goes into the river. 

— — — 

He’s born William Andrew Solace, on a hot day in the late summer of 1999, in Pflugerville, Texas.

He screams his way into the world so loudly that the attending nurse swears up and down that the windows rattled in their panes. 

“Hi, baby,” his Mom says with a watery laugh, once he’s placed in her arms. She clings to him tight and kisses the tears off of his angry, little red face.

“Death would turn his head at a yell that loud,” The doctor jokes. 

His mom laughs again, exhausted. He blinks his eyes open, and they catch in the sun, radiant baby-blues. “If he’s anything like me,” she murmurs confidently, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “I bet he could get death to fall in love with him.” 

[cheeeryos]

raven cycle master ficlist

in (mostly) chronological order

trc universe (canon compliant/lightly divergent):

eucharist / benediction / muscle memory

some eyes on him

the end of the world

ask for the sea

sunbeams find you

I hear the bells / rip it up / paint it black / baby love / familiar / dog days / green-eyed

the slender present

zero to sixty

(miles to go) before we sleep

troublemaker

alternate universe:

saliency / consolidare (covid quarantine au)

how to be an ally / how to handle rejection / how to ghost a guy (wrong number au)

two point perspective / phantom fireworks (ghost mystery au)

combat baby (college au)

xenia (different college au)

talk to me (next door neighbors au)

the waters and the wild / peace comes dropping slow (selkie au)

the season to be jolly (academic rivals au)

nothing like a love song (secret agent au)

get off at my stop (meet ugly)

faster, faster (different meet ugly)

the backup (fake fake dating au)

the special sauce (hockey au)

sic semper (fantasy au)

[the-whispers-of-death]

OC Information: "Bear"

Full Name: Vihaan Suraj Kulkarni

Callsign(s): Bear

Alias(es): Doctor Teddy-Bear, Doctor Gentle, Sunshine Princess

Nationality: First-Generation American (Indian parents)

Affiliations: U.S. Navy, U.S. Fleet Marine Force

Rank: E-7/Chief Hospital Corpsman

Gender: Male

Status: Alive

Birthday: September 28th, 1989 (35 as of 2024)

Build: Burly

Height: 6'7"

Marks: U.S. Navy tattoo on his left shoulder (one swallow representing the 10,000 nautical miles he's traveled on U.S. naval ships), a U.S. Marine tattoo on his right forearm (a complex tattoo of an eagle and a globe with the words "Semper Fi" below it), knife scar going across the bridge of his nose

Hair: Black

Eyes: Brown

Background: Vihaan was born to Indian immigrants and he was born in Charlotte, North Carolina. He grew up as an only child but was very loved by his parents. He enlisted in the U.S. Navy when he was eighteen and switched the Marine Fleet Force soon after discovering he wanted to be a Corpsman. He spent fifteen years in the military.

Extra: He is very much a pacifist unless he needs to defend himself or someone else.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (SFW requests only at this time, please and thank you.)

[recomskxawng]

“Remember kid, a marine can't be defeated. Oh, you can kill us but we'll just regroup in hell. Semper fi.” -Colonel Miles Quaritch

[josemimontalban]

El apagón

Pues verá usted, mi estimado Pérez, al ver a los traidores de la banda franquista PP, al inepto de su líder Feijóo, un tipo estrechamente relacionado con el narcotráfico, y aplaudir las “parludeces” del amigo de Marcial al grupo parlamentario fascista, adoradores todos de una pánfila choni que no sabe diferenciar a alterna de continua; de ver como esa troupe de inadaptados a la democracia y mercaderes de lo público, sacan pecho por lo del apagón, como si supieran siquiera deletrearlo, me ha dado por miccionar, pero sin echar ni gota. 

Después de salir del excusado, aun partiéndome de la risa, me he sumergido en un ejercicio distópico imaginando lo que hubiese sido de nosotros si el susodicho el apagón hubiera o hubiese sido gestionado por la banda franquista.  

Imagine usted, Pérez que, salvo el Barrio de Salamanca, y el casoplón de Feijóo en Moaña, hoy toda España siguiera sin electricidad. Imagine a la gente muriendo por decenas en los hospitales públicos, mientras los generadores del ejército abastecen de suministro eléctrico a los hospitales privados, imagines usted los dineros del estado, nuestros dineros, repartidos en cantidades de miles de millones y a escote entre las compañías eléctricas que estarían despidiendo trabajadores por centenares, y las empresas vinculadas a la banda franquista en las que tahúres, “emprendedores” y comisionistas de pelaje noble y acreditado pedigrí, se estarían haciendo de oro, mientras el incapaz de Feijóo nos estaría hablando de recortes, por nuestro bien, y la perturbada choni de Chamberí se subiría a un entarimado para acusar a Sánchez y ZP de ser los responsables del apagón en connivencia con Maduro, mientras el novio de Ayuso, su hermano, un exnovio y dos compis de clase, se hacían millonarios contratando con las comunidades de Madrid, Galicia y Andalucía la compra de un cargamento de linternas made in China, y las hermanas de Moreno Bonilla y Feijóo, además de la novia de Cuca Gamarra, montaban una empresa de suministro de cera para velas que se fabricarían en los hangares del aeropuerto de Castellón, al que por fin, y para disgusto de los nietos de Fabra, se encontraría utilidad, mientras Carlos Mazón, situado al frente del centro de emergencias, se perdía en el momento más trascendental con una “chatina” de buen ver, dejando al frente de la emergencia a una estúpida sin la menor idea de escribir al menos la palabra "emergencia". Imagine usted a ese Juanma Moreno poniendo a disposición del gobierno central los almacenes de cirios de las cofradías andaluzas para su equitativo reparto entre los españoles damnificados por el perverso sanchismo, al tiempo que Miguel Tellado y Borja Semper se hacían el Camino de Santiago de rodillas para pedirle al apóstol que restablezca pronto la electricidad y no perderse la proclamación del próximo papa. 

Glorioso, no le digo más. 

[awritersbro]

Sic Semper Tyrannis

The loneliest man in the world lives in a marble-clad mansion on the top of a great hill. The hill is completely surrounded by a giant moat half a mile deep and one hundred yards across, and what the lonely man still considers to be the most sophisticated wall in the world.

It is indeed an awe-inspiring work of architecture. One thousand feet of stone, concrete and steel, protected by security cameras that watched every square inch of the wall and its immediate surroundings, over two thousand machine guns, and over two hundred guard towers rising a hundred feet atop the wall. Each watchtower was topped with two anti-aircraft missile systems, antennae for jamming enemy communications and disseminating propaganda, and one nuclear launch system. Whether or not the lonely man ever had bombs to launch is still a matter of debate.

Nobody living outside the walls has been brave enough to check, and the loneliest man in the world is not about to tell.

Behind these walls lie the Presidential Gardens. They aren't as beautiful as they were when the lonely man's propaganda was filmed, before the grapevines were allowed to cover the marble statues of the Heroes of the Republic and the wheat and corn were allowed to spread like the grasses they are. Before the roses covered the calm, winding paths in sharp thorns and the orchards began to spread and turn the entire place into a single large forest. Before feral pigs and chickens could wander freely through it all. Before the giant golden statue of the lonely man at the top of what had once been the President's Fountain had a family of pigeons nesting happily atop its head.

The golden dome of the Great House of the Republic shines over the Presidential gardens, though the wind and rain has dulled the bright white marble facade to a dull pale gray. There is only a single door into the building that once housed nearly fifty thousand people. Above it, the Presidential balcony looks out at the gardens. Empty, save for five machine guns and a handful of spent shells.

The lonely man was once a very charismatic man, to be able to oversee the construction of all of this.

Day by day, the forest grows closer and closer to the Great House of the Republic. A Rose vine climbs up the first in a long line of pikes atop which the severed heads of Enemies of The Party are displayed. Wheat and corn and flowers of all types feed on the corpses beneath the mounds where the Enemies of The Party were buried. Saplings sprout right next to the mansion's walls, their roots preparing to eat away at its foundation.

The lonely man sees none of this, for he ordered all the windows in the mansion to be boarded up back when there were still people in the mansion to give orders to. A few years later, he ordered the same for the door outside. To protect his people from the Enemies of The Party.

The mansion is a colossal web of rooms and hallways, there is only one man alive who knows how it looks from the inside. Its original architect was labeled an Enemy of The Party and killed. His corpse rotting somewhere in the halls along with all those who questioned the lonely man's orders after the door was boarded up.

The loneliest man in the world lives in a marble-clad mansion on the top of a great hill. He wanders its endless halls calling for all within earshot to stand with him against the enemies of the Party and of the Republic before they can destroy their way of life.

The calls were quite convincing, when there were people there to hear him.

[mikaharuka]

Most Recent Releases!

Heyo y'all! It's been forever since I last posted about anything here on Tumblr, so... here I am, with a handful of links to my most recent fics! There are a couple of different fandoms (Twilight/Life and Death, FE3H, Madoka Magica, and Ace Attorney) and a couple of different ships (slash and femslash alike), but I had fun writing them all!

(Side note - the final fic on this list, Seduction of the Phoenix Bride just revealed today for the Mitsunaru Day 2024 Exchange!)

[Also, tagging just to remind y'all that I'm still on this weird site XD - @udaberriwrites @mrsmungus @sliebman10 @tsunderesalty @axolotlsupremacyowo @fattybattysblog @bleepbloopbotz @narcissasdaffodil @oceangirl24 @danceswithdarkspawn @hylianjo @lena-hills @bees-and-sunshine @kayedium-writes @aleksandriel @0nelittlebirdtoldme @sergeantneko @four-white-trees @precambrian-sea-pancake @evelinessa @argyleheir alongside many others!]

Danza de las Flores || Twilight, Life and Death Mature || 1500 words || Carine Cullen/Bella Swan (F/F)

Bella swings by Edythe's house to get some help with dancing, only to run into her long-time crush and Edythe's older sister, Carine. Fortunately for her, Carine is very willing to help her out. [Inspired by my musings on a swapped version of my Verse!]

Semper Felidae || Twilight, Life and Death Mature || 3000 words || Carlisle Cullen/Beau Swan (M/M)

From the fall of his beloved Adrian to the return of the curious and all-too-familiar Beauregard, Carlisle and his feline companion, Orion, have borne witness to it all. [A prelude to Apricity from Carlisle's POV, set in my overarching Winter Light Verse]

Febris Amatoria || Twilight, Life and Death Explicit || 1800 words (so far) || Carlisle Cullen/Beau Swan (M/M)

The evolution of Beau's and Carlisle's relationship and intimacy over time, captured through a series of erotic moments set in the Winter Light Verse. [Side note, I finally released chapter 3]

The Sun, Moon, and Stars || Twilight, Life and Death Mature || 900 words || Carine Cullen/Edythe Cullen (F/F)

To Edythe Masen, Doctor Carine Cullen was everything- her sun, her moon, and her stars.

In Draconic Harmony || Fire Emblem Three Houses (FE3H) Mature || 900 words || Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg (F/F)

After spotting her two advisors sharing a quiet moment together, Edelgard decides to sneak away for an intimate moment of her own.

The Die is Cast || Puella Magi Madoka Magica Mature || 900 words || Akemi Homura/Kaname Madoka (F/F)

The stage, home to Homura's arduous journey, has seen many tragic curtain calls, until an unexpected element enters stage right.

Ruthless Seduction || Ace Attorney (Gyakuten Saiban) Explicit || 1500 words || Miles Edgeworth/Phoenix Wright (M/M)

Miles Edgeworth, prosecutor and magic user, is working a late night at the office when his vampiric partner, Phoenix Wright, decides to swings by. Phoenix is determined to make his partner take a break from his work... except it comes around to bite him in a rather pleasurable way and both of them enjoy the outcome.

Seduction of the Phoenix Bride || Ace Attorney (Gyakuten Saiban) Explicit || 7600 words || Miles Edgeworth/Phoenix Wright (M/M)

After receiving a strange black invitation in the mail one day, Phoenix and Maya take the plunge and meet their client, Lady Franziska von Karma, who asks them to deliver some important paperwork to her brother, Lord Miles Edgeworth. When they arrive at his manor, Phoenix is faced with an overwhelming rush of new, yet strangely familiar sensations and memories, along with some odd circumstances and fantastical dreams as he slowly unravels the mystery.

[nabaath-areng]

People I want to get to know better

(Was tagged by @semper-miles and @sealrock, thank you! ♡)

Last Song: 'Fat Fetishism' with The Piass (don't look up without lowering your volume first just in case LOL) (Random tangent but seeing them live will forever be one of the best things I've ever experienced... I need to frame the stickers I put together on my old calendar cover. Honestly I'd love it if I ever got another chance to watch them perform, seeing that they've only done lives since the one I went to back in... oh my god 2012 what IS time—)

Favorite Color: Pinks, preferably light and pastel though I do love hot/neon pink too. Other people usually expect it to be black considering the way I've always dressed IRL (which is to various extents reflected in my OCs), and I do like black! But what I like to put on myself vs what I like to surround myself with (like my room, personal belongings, everyday items etc) differs and therefore I'm overwhelmingly surrounded by pink lol

Currently Watching: ... Honestly I tried to start multiple things many months ago but my ADHD makes watching anything an actual nightmare and if I finish a whole series, especially if it's long? You can bet that I'll barely remember anything orz So I guess in order for me to answer the question should be "what's the last thing you tried to watch" which would be Heavenly Delusion (hoping to finish it but I can only watch things properly in my gf's direct presence and we're long distance sooo...) (Though last year something possessed me and I watched the entire SVSSS donghua start to finish several episodes in a row without losing focus even once and I'm still riding that high. I suppose it helped that I'd already read the whole novel lol)

Last Movie: Movies are a bit easier for me (due to them having a very clear cut run time for me to mentally prepare for beforehand) but they're still subject to the same problems as the previous question... and I think the last one I watched was Ghibli's Castle in the Sky about a year ago or so (my favorite movie also)

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Love all three, could never pick just one!!!! And for that matter, LOVE sour.

Relationship Status: In a relationship with @amberwound !!!!

Current Obsessions: My new desktop and the fact that I can have more than one game installed at a time on it. I've also been stuck in HSR cause something about the combat just scratches my brain in a way I can't explain...

Last Thing in my Search History: 'Svenskt lejon' to show friend lmao

Tagging: @fourfoldfires @amberwound @captainqster @ahollowgrave @mythandral @witcherbatard @apheliondusk @yloiseconeillants @tsupertsundere @draculas-husband @neoma-eltanin @ffxivtribehydrae @tinolqa @magicalyams @unfotp @cytherae-rubin (I bet more than half of these won't actually get properly tagged with no way to correct it cause this always happens when I tag people and this website might just hate me--)

+ anyone else who wants to! Consider yourself tagged by me!

[ao3feed-ds9]

Semper ad Astra

https://ift.tt/kq8BUwe by Schattengestalt After his return from the Gamma Quadrant, Julian works tiredlessly to find a cure for the Blight to the exclusion of all else. When he misses another lunch date, Garak decides to stake an intervention, and receives unexpected but welcome help from Julian's friends. Words: 1908, Chapters: 1/15, Language: English Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Julian Bashir, Elim Garak, Miles O'Brien, Jadzia Dax Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Augmented Julian Bashir, Idiots in Love

[primamchorus]

People I want to get to know better

Tagged by @upatreewithoutaharness; thank you \ o w o /

Tagging: @ubejamjar, @sasslett, @ainyan, @sylaurin, @semper-miles, and anyone else who wants to do it! (no pressure, though!)

Last Song: Far Away by Red Vox -- I might have been trying to lose myself in some feels, because this song is such a release for me. It took me a while to realize why it feels so powerful to me and for me, and it's because, to me, the lyrics speak of reflection and letting it be okay to change as a person, that even if the experiences linger and last, it's okay to move forward, and it's okay to look back to see how much you've grown. Favourite Color: Contrary to what one might think, my favorite color is crimson and darker reds in general. Hard to believe when so many of my characters are very much Blue-Coded™ Currently Watching: I had a mind to watch Inside Out 2 later if I could. Last Movie: My partner and I watched SpyxFamily: Code White last night! Sweet/Spicy/Savory: I am a big sweet tooth. I love sweet flavors, and, uh...if my family history is anything to go off of, probably need to cherish it as much as I can while I can. But I also really love savory flavors as well. Spicy...ehhhh...habanero is about the hottest I can tolerate. My partner got the least spiciest buldak from one of our Asian markets when we lived in north Texas, and I don't know if I want to find out how spicy spicy is for Koreans if a two pepper rating on the package made me rethink my life choices. Like! It was delicious! But holy shit. Relationship Status: It'll be mine and @blossomblade's 14th anniversary this Halloween. Still unmarried, but it's really not a big deal. We may as well be. Current Obsessions: It's still Nomin and Estinien. I'm still very much active posting all kinds of things about my ship and how much I love them over at @paintedscales Last Thing In My Search History: ... :D "surrogate parents -pregnancy" -- I was very much looking for any other ideas for today's FFXIV Write. (Don't worry, I got it, and it should be going up soon)

[carminewill]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘?

the h̶e̶r̶o̶ villain

so we meet again, don't we? pity, I hoped our reunion would never occur. oh, pardon my discourtesy would you? but I really find tyrants unpleasant to the mouth. "sic semper evello mortem tyrannis." I have seen many before you fall, and I will see many after you descend as well. oh don't give me that hateful sneer, you more than anyone should know the expanse of my kindness, but vain little heroes are but villians in different shoes. you grew up wishing to prove yourself, you were good once, or I thought you were. maybe you were born nasty. you strove to reach the stars, for you felt unworthy, ha, perhaps you were onto something you pushed those you saw as dirty into the dirt, face down in the name of righteousness. but one does not merely hate for hatred itself. all abhorrence stems from fear. you call yourself a savior to merely stomp on the ones beneath you. would you like a bitter truth? no one's beneath you, some just strike more worry into your heart. are they better than you? as much as I'd adore saying yes, there might still be hope for you yet. after you swallow a few slices of humble pie, and wake up to reality. you cannot force anyone to change. you cannot force anyone to do anything. it is as simple as that. reality has very few set rules and somehow even then people find a way to break them. you're not a god, little beast. it's time you stopped acting like one, for one day a real god will smite you where you stand, and they will be disguised as the "lesser" people you mock so bitterly.

the fallen prodigy

hello old friend, it's been a while hasn't it? I remember when you were just a child, gape-smiled and beaming like the sun. where have you laid your youth to rest my love? is it buried beside your heart perhaps? I know how deeply life has wounded you, it took away everything, didn't it? oh poor soul, you held onto happiness with bloody, shaking hands but still fate ripped even that away from you. your past lovers are dead or did some betray you? turning away in fear of what they once admired. your comrades have been slain, or their priorities shifted. I've heard you too have changed your way of thought. the people fear you now, do they normally cower at the sound of your name? ah don't fret, that makes two of us. the masses tend to despise the things they do not have the will to comprehend. the villian finds sympathy for you don't they, well I could have seen that from a mile away. you two are the oldest friends, you made a deal with them correct? to save your late love, they tried to hold their end of the bargain, really, but I fear you are cursed to forever be despondent. oh what a sad and miserable life without love. is that why you chase loneliness? for is it truly a life of sorrow if you yourself has chosen it? but don't become bitter from the pain. trust when I say I have seen wounds unfold a man, turning the gentlest spirits into seething beasts. please, keep seeking love, even if it seems you are forbidden from it. you are the master of your own fate, I see how tired you are. the scars never healed, they twist and wrap around your entire person. your eyes are dark and lifeless, rest. but keep fighting, not with the sword you have forsaken so long ago, but with your heart. I'll be rooting for you my friend.

the rising under dog

why hello again dearie, I see you managed to help those frogs those children were kicking, hm? oh how much I can emphasize we are but the ghosts of our childhood passions. and, unsurprising enough, the hero to the trodden little creatures of the earth is now a rising golden savior to the masses. oh love, I said you'd go far, didn't I. for the good always prevail in the end, somehow, they do. you lived a difficult life, I know, but you never let that get you down. you took beatings with a grin, and dished back kindness in return. inequality and injustice made you outraged, and you strove to assist the hurting and abused. oh shining dragon, you are bathed in golden light. please keep being true. you have tasted blood and death, but you refused to force it down the throats of others. and that alone proves there is inchor in your veins, demigod. you will be struggling until the very end, battling for your comrades, your people, and yourself. never lose sight of your goal my dear. sometimes you needn't have one, except see the good, and protect it. that is all my advice can tell you. I implore, protect the goodness in yourself with everything you have, but never refuse to share it also. young hero, you are growing. you are destined for wonders even I may not live long enough to encounter. keep up the good work, and keep your head held high. you are bound to do the impossible, all because you see the truth. there is good in the world, and it deserves to be found.

[omineptune]

Hello hello! I was going through the ace combat tag yesterday and found your art! The pixel art tarot of Zero youve made are really cool! I'd like to ask your permission to embroider The Hanged Man tarots https://www.tumblr.com/omineptune/739236161659322368/two-sides-of-the-same-coin into patches for my personal use (I have a battle jacket with a Galm patch + embroidered 00 I want to put it on! https://www.tumblr.com/semper-miles/734255645168173057/ok-fuck-it-im-proud-of-these-lol)

of course! do send photos when you're done i'd love to see it!

[the-whispers-of-death]

OC Information: "Cerberus"

Full Name: Rahul Sachin Ali

Callsign(s): Cerberus

Alias(es)/Nickname(s): Human Guard Dog, Doctor Dog, Dog Whisperer, Spot, Doctor Statue

Nationality: First-Generation American (Indian parents)

Affiliations: U.S. Navy (former), U.S. Fleet Marine Force (Former), Shadow Company

Rank: E-6/Hospital Corpsman First Class

Gender: Male

Status: Legally Dead

Birthday: July 20th, 1990 (34 as of 2024)

Build: Burly (when he's all healed up and back in the gym)

Height: 6'5"

Marks: U.S. Navy tattoo on his left shoulder (one swallow representing the 10,000 nautical miles he's traveled on U.S. naval ships), a U.S. Marine tattoo on his right forearm (a complex tattoo of an eagle and a globe with the words "Semper Fi" below it), several whip and knife scars covering his torso, arms, legs, and back. He has a huge knife scar going down his right eyebrow and eye.

Hair: Black

Eyes: Brown (Left), White (Right)

Background: Rahul was born to Indian immigrants and he was born in Charlotte, North Carolina. He grew up with one older sister and was considered to be the more soft-spoken out of the two kids. He enlisted in the U.S. Navy when he was eighteen and switched the Marine Fleet Force soon after discovering he wanted to be a Corpsman. He spent thirteen years in the military and was presumed dead for six months after being captured by a terrorist organization called "Minvera". He made the switch to Shadow Company after they've recently rescued him.

Extra: He is considered to be paranoid, constantly looking over his shoulder and never letting anyone be behind him. While his eye injury was bad enough to make his right eye turn white and cloudy, he's not completely blind in the eye. He wears a contact lens in his right eye when on missions so that he has 20/20 vision.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (Check the rules in "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting.)