#there’s nothing wrong with where they’re from

[revelboo]

I wasn't expecting that update to Everything is Alright, and I've been on the edge of the seat all day at work. I'm just chewing at my nails.

I hope Soundwave says something stupid and just like "I'm just fragging him... Stress relief."

Or maybe megs also noticed the fact sounds also smells the same as star when he went to megs. Just AAAA

Everything’s not alright at this point 🤣

Everything Is Alright Pt 73

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• So many little factors for him to keep track of. You inside his cassette compartment, far too fragile to get banged around if he has to fight. Starscream’s wings aggressively flared, unable to back down because he’s bonded even if it’s not a complete bond and his bond mate is in danger. The whine of Megatron’s cannon charging as his servos flex, not pointed at either of them. Not yet. His cassettes, not really knowing what’s going on, but he knows they’ll try to defend him if Megatron attacks and that they’ll end up hurt. So many ways this can go wrong. “My loyalty hasn’t changed,” he says slowly, needing Megatron to understand what he can’t say.

• Soundwave’s voice rumbles through you as you press your palms against him, trapped inside his cassette compartment. Worrying about him and Starscream, about them being hurt because of you and hating it. Wishing right then that he’d left you in the woods, not returned to you. Because then you wouldn’t have asked to go home with him, wouldn’t have started falling in love with the gruff, insecure mech. Wouldn’t have begun to fall for Soundwave as he worried over you, trying so hard to make you comfortable for no reason other than keeping you happy. Now they’re both going to be hurt for trying to keep you secret, to protect you. And you do love them, even if you can’t dare say the words out loud.

• Servos curling under into fists, Starscream wonders if he can pry open Soundwave’s chest compartment and grab you. Get away before Megatron can bring that cannon up. Just go. Throw away everything to keep you safe, to cling to the only spot of happiness he has. The only person who really needs him and believes he can be good. Because Soundwave is going to give you up. He can’t betray Megatron, so he’ll end up betraying you even though he must realize you won’t survive it. And it hurts worse because this is his fault, he’s put himself and you in danger by being selfish. Let himself become too weak to protect you without Soundwave’s help and had dared to trust the other mech with you.

• Lies or truth? It’s so hard to tell when Megatron’s gotten used to relying on Soundwave to be able to tell him. Even knowing how dangerous it is, part of him wants to believe Soundwave. Believe that there’s nothing sinister going on here, but the Seeker’s aggressive stance makes him doubt it. A private assignation, maybe? He can’t really see the two of them seeking each other out, though. He’d been almost positive that they hated each other. “What about you, Starscream? Are you loyal?” He growls, watching the Seeker tense. Watching Soundwave lay a hand on Starscream’s canopy to stop him from stepping forward. Where’s this sudden bravery coming from? This isn’t the same conniving Seeker and he’s just so tired of plots and intrigue. Rather face a threat head on.

• “You have no idea,” Starscream snarls, wings flicking. Unable to back down this time. He can’t. Let Megatron make of his words what he will, but his loyalty is to you, not him. Even if it kills him, he’ll fight for this. For you. Because the alternative is so lonely he can’t stand it. Meeting and holding the warlord’s optics, resigned that there’s no way out. Denta bared and desperate, he breaks away from Soundwave and lashes out at Megatron.

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[writingwithfolklore]

Getting Characters from A to B

Oftentimes a plot requires the characters to get from point A to B. They need to cross the wilderness to get to the next town, or climb to the top of the mountain, or take a boat to the other continent. But long paragraphs of just walking or moving is obviously not that interesting to read, so here are some elements to add to your travelling sections that accomplish the A to B and more.

1. It’s about the characters

If you’ve ever travelled with someone, you know that everything about your dynamic is amplified after spending like 72 straight hours with them. Use this with your characters—every little hidden grudge or flame or annoyance comes out when things get boring or stressful. This is a great time to really delve into character conflicts or even romance subplots, or any other way you’d like to develop the group dynamic. Also, there’s no better place to get the truth out of someone than being trapped in a car or on the road with them for days on end!

On another note, the slower parts of travel also allow for more quiet moments where your character can process what's happened so far. Especially in fast paced stories with lots of conflict, you may opt for a uneventful section of travel where they have time to grieve or plan or otherwise unpack things.

2. Switch up group roles

Travelling tends to carve out the same roles. Usually there is the leader who is driving the group forward and making decisions, the navigator who knows which way to go, the snack/food provider—who may be rationing or even hunting depending on the survival situation--and the one who has a hidden motive that is making them be difficult or drag their heels and provide conflict. These roles are a great way to force a change in dynamic between characters, and can inspire conflict between them.

3. Increase the stakes

A trip isn’t really a trip until something goes wrong. Whether the navigator was reading the map wrong, a bag of rations falls over the cliff side, someone gets injured, or there seems to be some creature stalking them, an increase of stakes raises the tension and creates opportunities for the group to work together or fall apart. For more tips on how to increase stakes, check out my post here:

4. Don’t be afraid to skip past the boring stuff

Once you’ve done what you wanted to do with the trip—broken a friendship, or a leg,, or both—don’t be afraid to skip in time for when they reach their destination. In fact, you’ll likely skip time for several parts of the trip in between interesting scenes between characters or moments where they’re facing against some conflict. We as the readers will assume that they continued on with their travels and just that nothing of note had happened in between.

I hope that helps!

[caker-baker]

Due Diligence

The lights were sickeningly bright, even from behind the curtains.

The hero’s PR manager snapped her fingers in front of their face. “Hey. Hey. Pull it together.”

“I don’t do these.” They felt their heart in their ears, beating rapidly. “I don’t do meetings, the questions, I can’t, please don’t make me–”

“Hero.” Their manager’s voice left very little room for sympathy. “I know. But this is what happens when you get popular, they look to you for information.”

“Popular?” The hero repeated, the sweat on the back of their neck turning cold. “I’m not a celebrity! If I do this, I’m going to screw it up, and it’s like you said, I need to maintain a reputation.”

“Yeah, well, strong and silent isn’t working for the general public anymore.” She looked down at her tablet. “You have ten minutes to get whatever this is together. I’ll get you some water or something, just–” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “fix this.”

The hero had thought they wanted to be alone. They thought so terribly wrong.

They could feel themself begin to struggle for breath, and reached desperately behind for the wall, arms shaking as they slid down.

Press conferences, they asked for no press conferences, and there was an agreement. They would save the day, they would leave the scene. Strong and silent type, sturdy and dependable.

But the minute they opened their mouth out there, they would stutter, they would say something they’re not supposed to, they would mess it up, they knew they would.

Reputation could make or break, and with the hero’s public speaking ability, it would break.

People would stop looking to them for help, would start thinking of them as awful and horrible when all they wanted to do help. Quickly, quietly, just help.

“What a mess.” A voice spoke from the dark.

Though their arms still lacked a sense of firmness, they managed to pull themselves back up.

“Good, very good.” The voice said. “You were compressing yourself, making it harder to get air.”

“You.” The hero managed.

“Me.” The villain grinned, approaching them slowly.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“You’re still tensing your muscles.” Their arms shot out, placing their hands on the hero’s shoulders. “Relax these.”

“Why?” The hero shoved them off. “So you can fight me while I’m vulnerable?”

“No, so you can go out there and speak without losing your head. Do you want that?”

The hero’s jaw tensed, a sign that they didn’t want to hear anything the villain had to say, but they nodded nonetheless.

“Then listen. Unclench your jaw, take a deep breath in, now hold it, very good.” The villain once again placed their hands on the hero’s shoulders. “Breathe out, keep the pattern. You need to relax the shoulders, your back will do the same subsequently. Hey, the breathing pattern, keep it. Yeah? There we are.”

With one final steady breath out, the hero’s arms firm again and their stance solid, they wrapped their hands around the villain’s wrists, and removed their hold on their shoulders.

“I need to return you to the authorities.”

“Mm, no, you need to focus on what you’ll be saying to the swarms of reporters. Believe me, they’ll be asking bait pieces. Just remember that there’s no shame in taking your time to answer the question. They’ll think of you as thoughtful, and that’ll help with the strong and silent thing you have going on right now.”

Stepping back, the hero did a once over.

“Oddly sound advice. Why?”

The villain also took a step back, glancing to the hallway where the manager had disappeared to.

“I did want to shake things up a bit. Scare you, scare the public, but it looks like she,” The villain nodded towards the hallway. “got the scaring you part down. Expertly done, if I may add.”

“But the public?” The hero crossed their arms, eyes blazing. “Still want to try something?”

“Oh, relax. Don’t get yourself worked up. Seriously.”

The hero said nothing, continuing to scrutinize the villain, waiting for them to strike.

A strike never came.

“I appreciate your due diligence.” The villain admitted quietly. “And the people in this city like to tear people like you and I apart-”

“We aren’t the same-”

“But they don’t always think so. I appreciate your due diligence. I…appreciate that it’s tough work. I don’t want to see them turn that, or you, into something perverse.”

The hero raised a brow, then snapped to attention, as did villain.

Quick clicking heels, their expectant manager coming back.

“Breathing pattern, if you need it again, lean back and keep away from the mics. Time to consider an answer is good, and if you can throw in a thoughtful pose during that time, you might end up on the cover of a glam magazine, or get yourselves some very loyal fans who’ll fawn over your looks.”

“My look-?”

“I’ll be watching from the comfort of my home. Break a leg, Hero. Due diligence.”

The villain melted back into the small slips of darkness the studio allowed, very good at that trick apparently, something the hero would have to take note of in the future.

“Okay.” Their manager’s voice cut across the hero’s thoughts. “This is good, this is better.”

Handing them a bottle of water and a rag, she made a motion across her forehead.

“Dab off the sweat. You ready?”

“Strong, silent, and sturdy doesn’t work for the public anymore?” Looking back to where the villain was, the hero nodded. “Then let’s see what does.”

Due diligence.

[peppymintdreams]

Wool You Be Mine?

Mc turns into a sheep?!

It had started like any other day in the Devildom—mild chaos, brothers arguing over something trivial, and you caught in the middle of it all. Lucifer was lecturing Mammon about his latest scheme, Leviathan was engrossed in a new anime, and Asmodeus was asking you for fashion advice.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary... until it happened.

One moment, you were standing in the kitchen with Beelzebub, offering him a snack to hold him over until dinner. The next, a strange flash of magic erupted from nowhere, surrounding you in a cloud of glittering light.

When it cleared, something was… different.

"MC?" Beel’s deep voice rumbled with confusion. He looked down, his eyes widening.

You tried to respond, but instead of words, a soft baa escaped your lips.

"What the—?" Beel knelt down, blinking in disbelief. Where you once stood, a small, fluffy pink sheep now sat, looking up at him with wide, bewildered eyes.

"MC, is that… you?"

Baa.

"Guys!" Beel’s voice echoed through the house. "Something’s wrong with MC!"

Within moments, the entire House of Lamentation was in the kitchen.

"What did you do, Beel?!" Mammon demanded, pointing an accusatory finger.

"I didn’t do anything!" Beel protested. "They just… turned into a sheep!"

"A sheep?" Levi blinked, adjusting his glasses. "That’s… actually kind of cute."

Asmodeus crouched down, running a hand over your soft wool. "Oh my Devildom, they’re adorable! Look at this fluff! MC, you make such a stylish sheep!"

"Sheep or not, we need to fix this," Lucifer said, crossing his arms. "We don’t have time for random transformations."

"Wait." Satan’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. "This might be a curse or a prank spell. Did anyone come into contact with any cursed objects recently?"

You tried to think, but your sheep brain wasn’t exactly cooperating. Instead, you simply hopped in place, your fluffy tail wiggling.

"Aww, they’re hopping!" Asmo cooed, pulling out his phone to snap a picture.

"Focus!" Lucifer’s patience was wearing thin. "We need to figure this out before—"

A soft baa interrupted him, followed by the sensation of someone picking you up.

It was Belphegor. He cradled you in his arms like a pillow, eyes half-lidded with amusement. "I don’t see the problem. MC’s soft, quiet, and cuddly now. Let’s just keep them like this."

"No way!" Mammon protested. "I’m their first! If anyone’s gonna cuddle them, it’s me!"

Levi groaned. "Are we seriously fighting over Sheep MC now?"

Amidst the chaos, you struggled in Belphie’s arms, trying to regain some sense of control over the situation. But instead of asserting yourself, you… sneezed.

Tiny sparkles erupted around you, and suddenly, your fluffy form began to glow.

"Uh, guys?" Satan stepped back. "I think something’s happening."

In another burst of light, you felt your body shift and change. Your hooves disappeared, your wool vanished, and after a few seconds, you were back to your normal human self—albeit sitting awkwardly on the floor of the kitchen, blinking up at the demon brothers.

"MC!" Beel immediately offered you a hand, pulling you to your feet.

"That… was weird," you muttered, rubbing your head.

"Weird, but you were the cutest sheep I’ve ever seen," Asmo gushed, showing you the photo he took.

"You’re lucky we figured it out before it became permanent," Lucifer added with a sigh. "Next time, avoid mysterious magical objects."

"Or," Belphie suggested with a smirk, "just stay a sheep. You were a lot less trouble that way."

You gave him a playful glare, and he chuckled

[maxybabyy]

winter warmers day 3: hand holding (maxiel)

The carousel swings to let them through, voices becoming louder as the group grows.

The carousel swings again, and this time Daniel knows Max is with them. His laughter is loud and familiar, voice croaky as he retells the punch line of a joke Daniel had told him on the plane on their way over. It’s really not that funny but his audience laughs still, Charles nudging his shoulder until Max’s smile  glows under the soft warmth of the hotel lights.

Daniel kicks the kerb and watches as the group breaks apart, sloppy kisses on cheeks and promises of padel dates when they’re all back in Monaco.

He’s almost by Max’s side, hands already reaching out to support his stumbling feet, when someone intercepts him with a clammy touch to his shoulder.

“Daniel, hi! I didn’t know you were around,” Christian says and pulls him in for a hug. He smells of whiskey and cologne, and Daniel hates how it reminds him of better times. Late nights in the English countryside, and the dreams they had once shared. “Well, what a coincidence.”

“Yeah, imagine that,” Daniel says and doesn’t elaborate.

Lando has started to free himself from Max’s arms, and Daniel knows it won’t be long until he attaches himself to someone new, and then Daniel will never get him back to the hotel.

“Listen, I know things didn’t end the way we wanted them to, but I don’t want you to –“

The oxygen sticks in his throat, but he has to keep breathing. A different hotel flashes in his mind, soft plush chairs threatening to swallow him up as his world had crumbled around him. His heart beats too fast in his chest, and he knows this is one of those situations he should pull himself out of.

But Christian is still talking, about next year and Checo’s seat. About Liam and Yuki, and how they have options. And Daniel hates it all the same, the acrid taste of anger scorched into his tongue. He wants to tear it all down and watch it burn, fading into nothing until there’s no one left. No one but Max and GP, and maybe a handful of the mechanics so he can continue driving the car, continue to win. Because if it can’t be him, Daniel wants it to be Max.

“I’m here for Max,” he says, and his breath comes a little easier now.

Max who is lovely and kind and loves Daniel even when he doesn’t have a seat. Max who holds his hand and talks about retirement without fear in his heart, like it’s an achievement and not the death sentence Daniel still mostly sees it as.

“But then I will have so much time to be with you, Daniel,” Max will say on the worst of days and kiss his face where the skin has been stretched thin with age. “And always I think that sounds so lovely.”

He isn’t there yet, but he thinks with Max by his side he will probably get there.

“Oh, you could have come inside, sat with the team,” Christian offers now.

Daniel, with his hands shoved deep in a pair of sweatpants certainly not fit for polite company, snorts. “Better not. People might get the wrong idea, think there’s something more to it. Promises made, promises kept and all that,” he adds with a wink.

Max comes to him easy when he calls and folds himself into Daniel’s side as they walk back to the hotel.

“Did you have fun?” Daniel asks and lets Max pull his hand into his. He wraps their fingers around each other and brings them to his mouth, lips soft over the skin of his rose.

“Hmm, it would of course have been better if you were there,” Max tells him, a drunken tongue slipping over the words. “But always that is what I want, so.”

Daniel breathes out softly. He knows Max knows why he could not be there tonight, knows Max understands and doesn’t mean anything by it. But the ache in his chest grows still.

“I’m here now,” he says instead and hopes it’s enough.    

[magiclamd]

I’ve been thinking of that scene, between Laurent and Torveld, in the first book.

Torveld is trying to make Laurent feel special, saying it’s been years since a young man distracted him, and Laurent brushes it off with “I think you get distracted more easily than you admit.” We know Damen reads what happens there as Laurent trying to manage a difficult situation, but actually, this scene plays out in the opposite way to so many flirting scenes that happen later, between Damen and Laurent. Instead of managing what is indeed a difficult situation, and trying to keep Damen both close but also at bay, like he should have if he had been trying to manipulate Damen, Laurent is usually both the initiator but also the one who pushes things further and further. When he flirts with Damen, it’s nothing like what he does there with Torveld. He’s honest, he’s teasing, he lets himself be himself because there’s no way it can be used by his uncle against him. 

There’s only really one time when Laurent is the one who pulls the plug on the flirting, rather than Damen, and it’s when he asks Damen to teach him how he’s supposed to instruct a bed slave. Damen skates the thin ice until he then, for some reason, goes “fuck it” and right as he has his hands in Laurent’s clothing, lets his voice drop and starts to make a suggestion that Laurent doesn’t even let him finish, in his panic. Laurent doesn’t deal with it diplomatically; he tells Damen to step back. Damen suggests he go and get some firewood; Laurent tells him, "Go.” 

But the thing with that balcony scene with Torveld, that both Torveld and Damen miss: Laurent speaks of Torveld’s attraction to him as though it has nothing to do with himself. It’s not even wrong; Laurent is very pretty and Torveld likes pretty young men. It could be any pretty young man. Laurent substitutes a convenient slave, and Torveld is happy.

It’s the absolute opposite for Damen. “It’s different with everyone”, he doesn’t even say to Laurent, when they’re talking about what sex is like, because he thinks it’s so obvious. For Laurent, who watches himself replaced with pre-pubescent child after child, again and again, the fact that Damen knows the very worst bits of Laurent inside and out, and has suffered from them, and yet wants him; that Damen can pre-empt his needs, even before he realises them; that he watched Damen refuse to fuck by the coupling fire, and the slaves once he’s back in his rightful place, and didn’t even think twice about how much he could have had the adoring Pallas, means something to Laurent. 

To Damen, Laurent is not replaceable. 

I just love the way this series plays out similar scenes again and again, and the differences are what shows us where the characters and the relationships are. 

[helluvabinge]

I mean, you’re not wrong, but I think we should also consider the context of these posts.

Right after the trailer for the second half of season 2 came out, one big question people had was about Via’s line accusing Stolas of picking Blitzo over her/his family. It seemed out of place, given where the relationship was left off at the midway point, so people wondered what would prompt that reaction (and also worried that the answer might be “nothing”).

Mastermind answered that question in a fairly satisfying way. Via has been afraid of losing her dad since she was a little girl and now she sees that fear coming true. That’s a pretty traumatic experience, but to see her father freely making a choice that is guaranteed to result in that separation adds a whole new layer of hurt and distrust. Feeling angry or betrayed by that choice may not be a very logical response, but it’s a completely understandable emotional response, particularly coming from a child.

So when people say it makes sense for Via to feel that way, they’re not necessarily saying that it’s a logical way of reading that decision. I mean some people probably are because every bad take has to have at least one believer, but by and large that’s not what I’m seeing. Most people are just acknowledging that a specific character POV is easy to understand, given their recent experiences.

I've had to deal with "they chose x over y" type of discussions since 2013 thanks to Frozen, because people refuse to look at things in context, so I'm gonna bring my same arguments here.

Mastermind isn't nearly as simple as "Stolas chose Blitz over Via". Looking at it that way is ignoring literally all the nuance of the situation and an insult to the writers who spent 2 seasons layering the complexity of it. Via was safe at home, Blitz was literally on the chopping block about to be executed. How is his (in the heat of the moment) choice so hard to understand?

If there's ANY way to describe what Stolas did, "Stolas chose Blitz over himself" is WAY more fitting.

[thevioletcaptain]

🤠🎶🌬️

Thanks for the prompt, anon! I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry it took so long for me to fill. You can also read here on Ao3 💚

Deus Ex Caschina

Dean/Cas | 2k words | Mature When Dean and Sam get into a bad situation on an impromptu hunt near the Cuevas Ranch in New Mexico, Dean calls on Cas for help.

There’s something whistling out in the desert; a shrill, two-note call that starts high and ends low and makes all the hairs on Dean’s forearms stand on end.

Even knowing that whistling back is the worst possible thing he could do, he feels the impulse ricocheting through his body. He tamps it down. Hard. Presses his lips together and waits for the compulsion to pass.

Beside him, Sam has gone stock-still, eyes sharp and jaw tense as he scans the dark for some sign of the — well. Whatever it is.

Why he thinks he’s going to be able to see a damn thing beyond the fire-lit edges of their camp is a mystery, but Dean doesn’t bother to mention it. More likely than not, he’s not even thinking that far. A lot of the time, Dean knows, it’s less about having any real hope of success and more about the need to feel as though you’re at least doing something. Anything at all.

Because really, when it comes down to the cold hard facts? They’re helpless out here.

Sitting ducks, waiting for whichever desert-dwelling monster has been picking off the local horses — and most recently, an extremely unfortunate veterinarian — to stop toying with them like a cat batting a mouse from one side of a room to the other.

They’d found the case entirely by accident. Had been passing through New Mexico on their way back to the bunker when Dean had heard a familiar voice while waiting for his order at the Watrous Coffee House. He’d glanced toward the door, scanning faces, and found Cesar Cuevas talking with an older guy in dusty flannel.

Within the hour, he and Sam had been sitting in the kitchen of Jesse and Cesar’s ranch house going over the scant clues the retired hunters had managed to pull together in the days since a local vet — a well-liked guy named Petey — had been found on the edge of the neighboring acreage with his insides on the outside.

It’s not a lot.

Like the three horses which had suffered similar fates in the week before Petey died, there wasn’t any sign of a fight. No scuff marks in the ground to suggest he’d been dragged there after.

The local cops determined pretty quickly that the remains were in line with those left behind by a mountain lion and closed the case.

"Because of the missing spinal columns," Cesar had explained, his nose crinkling up in disgust. "Cougars tend to go for that first, and Petey and the horses were all… well. You get the idea."

"So what makes you think they're wrong?" Sam asked.

"Besides the fact that they're cops?" Jesse had snarked back, and Dean snorted. "No bite or claw marks, no paw prints, no scat, for starters."

"And this," Cesar added, handing over a long chunk of glittering stone. It only took Dean a moment to realize why it seemed familiar.

"Fulgurite?" he'd asked, handing it off to his brother, and Jesse and Cesar had nodded. "Any lightning storms lately?

"Not in months. And we found these at every site."

"Any idea what it means?"

"No clue."

"And that's all you've got so far?" Sam had asked, and the pair had nodded.

"Yup," Jesse said. "That's all."

That was six days ago, now, and though they've found a little more evidence, they're still stumped. Hence the camp out. Dean wasn't keen on it — camping isn't his bag on a good day, let alone when there's something eviscerating everything it can get it's hands on in the area — but after days of dead ends, and two more dead horses, they're beyond the point of putting it off.

Staring out past the creosote and cactus that edge their campsite, and knowing full well that he'd have just as much luck with his eyes closed, Dean listens for some other sound that might tell him what they're dealing with. Where it is.

Nothing. Just the distant pop of a car backfiring, and the tiny blinking lights of a plane flying east to west overhead. He's ready to give up when the whistle comes again.

Hiiiiiiiigh-low.

Shrill and sharp. It seems to come from somewhere straight ahead, and Dean strains to see. Strains and strains until his eyes start to sting.

He needs to blink.

…why the fuck can't he blink?

He tries to tell Sam, but his jaw feels wired shut. His tongue heaves against nothing, unmoving in his mouth as if pressed flat by some invisible force. He can’t speak. Can’t move.

He has the brief, panicked thought that he might not be able to breathe, but it passes. His lungs expand. Deflate. Expand.

Whatever is doing this, it doesn't want him dead.

Yet, he thinks, and the panic sets back in, dialed to eleven. It doesn't want me dead yet.

Thanks to the way they're standing, he's only peripherally aware of the side of Sam’s face, but it seems that he is experiencing the same problem. Great. Awesome.

Another whistle. Dean's skin prickles head-to-toe. Itches, like he's brushed up against fiberglass. His vision blurs as his eyes water with the agony of it, of being so goddamn itchy that he can't think, but utterly incapable of doing anything about it.

Another whistle.

Closer, now, but this time it's behind them. A little to the right.

Suddenly, the fact that there was never any evidence of a struggle makes a lot more sense. It's not that the thing is fast, or even particularly sneaky. It’s just been doing this. Rendering its victims incapable of fighting, moving, making a sound.

If they were anyone else, they’d be screwed right now.

If they were anyone else.

Cas, he prays, grateful beyond words for the angel on his shoulder and his freshly-reinstated wings. We’re in a bit of a situation here, buddy.

Another whistle.

Closer, still.

Another.

Then;

SNAP.

A wet crunch and a sound like a hose unravelling.

Cas, I really fucking hope that's you, Dean prays again, trying not to let himself imagine that a spinal column might make that sound if it were being yanked out of a living creature.

A whistle. Distressed gurgling.

THUD.

Footsteps crunching closer, and—

"Dean," Cas strides into his view, concern etched into his brow, his face spattered with blood. The wet droplets reflect the crackling fire, making him glitter in a way that should not be hot, but somehow really is. "That creature was about to kill you. Why didn't you call me sooner?"

You said you wanted to spend the week with Jack, Dean prays. I didn't want to interrupt Heaven stuff.

Cas frowns. Reaches out to touch Dean's jaw. His body floods with warmth as Cas' grace works whatever paralytic agent he'd been afflicted with from his system, and though he's been able to breathe the entire time, he sucks in a breath. Relaxes his muscles that feel as though he's been tensing them for a solid hour.

Fuck, he's gonna need a massage tomorrow. He can already tell he's gonna be feeling it in about three hours.

"'Heaven stuff' can wait. And Jack is God. He has plenty to occupy himself when I'm on Earth."

"Yeah, I know. I just… I feel like I've been monopolizing your time since you got back, that's all."

"It's not monopolizing my time when you're the person I wish to spend my time with," Cas reminds him. "Besides, I thought we agreed that if I was taking time off from hunting, you would too? You were supposed to be driving straight back to the bunker. I would have stayed to make the drive with you if I'd known you'd be putting yourself in danger."

"We were driving back. But then we ran into Jesse and Cesar, and they told us about this thing that had been— look, it's a long story, okay? And hey, you saved the day. So, y'know. All's well that ends well."

Cas huffs and crosses his arms. Unfortunately for him, Dean thinks the display is more cute than it is imposing.

"I'd prefer you didn't need saving in the first place."

"Well, yeah, obviously," Dean tells him. He glances over his shoulder. "What was it, anyway? Thing had a killer freeze ray."

"I'm not entirely sure," Cas admits, and Dean steps forward, pulling his sleeve down over his hand and wiping the dark blood off of Cas' cheek.

"But you killed it," he says.

"I did. It was projecting its intentions rather strongly. It was going to eat your spine, and then most of your organs. I couldn't allow it to live."

"My hero," Dean tells him, then, a brainwave; "Deus ex Caschina."

He grins wide, and Cas rolls his eyes. Waves a hand to zap the rest of the blood away. Dean takes that as his cue to properly express his appreciation.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he says.

Try as he might, Cas can't keep the displeased frown on his face when Dean pushes into his space and kisses him. He does still manage to sound huffy when he says you're welcome, Dean, but the tilt of his mouth softens the bite.

"So, is Jack expecting you back upstairs tonight?" Dean asks, nipping lightly at his lip. "I'd kinda like to repay you for the assist. Get on my knees, say a prayer of thanks, maybe get my mouth on your—"

"Sam!" Cas blurts out, and Dean leans back, making a disgusted face, before he realizes what Cas is saying. Unwinding his arms from around Cas' shoulders, he turns to look at his brother as Cas makes his way over to him. He's still stock-still, eyes wide and pleading as he stares into the middle distance somewhere beyond Dean's shoulder.

"Oops," Dean grimaces. "Forgot we weren't alone."

"He started praying," Cas says by way of explanation, and boops Sam in the middle of his forehead. "My apologies for the delay, Sam. I was… momentarily distracted."

Stretching out his jaw, Sam shakes his long limbs as if to make sure they're all still functional.

"It's fine," he tells Cas, nice as pie, before turning a glare on Dean. "Maybe next time make sure everyone is alive and functional before you start macking on your boyfriend."

"We actually decided on 'partner'," Dean corrects him, mostly just to be annoying, and Sam narrows his eyes.

"Really?" he says flatly.

Dean knows he's just pissy about the whole left-in-a-frozen-state situation, but Cas — wonderful, badass, occasionally too literal for his own good Cas — moves back to stand at Dean's side, and Dean knows, immediately, that he's about to tell Sam why they settled on the term. He wishes he were filming the reaction, but there's no way he'd be able to get his phone unlocked in time.

"Yes," Cas says proudly. "Partners. Like cowboys, but married."

"You're not married," Sam says, incapable of well-actuallying no matter the circumstance, and— here comes the kicker, Dean thinks.

"We got married in 2013," Cas says. Matter of fact. Like Sam's forgotten something everyone knows. Sam's eyebrows rise high enough that they somehow seem to clear his forehead.

"What?"

"Admittedly, we weren't in a romantic or sexual relationship yet, and it was mostly to ensure that if I were to wind up in hospital as a human, Dean would be able to visit me without any difficulty. Though obviously now we can both acknowledge that we were very much in love with one another at the time."

"What?"

Dean whistles. High-low. It does the trick, snapping Sam out of his stupor, and after his snap-reaction of fear dissipates, Dean clears his throat. Points toward their campsite.

"Hey, uh… maybe we should pack all this up, head back to the ranch before it gets too late? I know the uh… the thing is gone, but the insects are not. So…"

"I can't believe you got married without telling me," Sam says.

"Oh my god, it was over a decade ago, get over it," Dean says.

Sam does not laugh.

"Dean."

Groaning, Dean throws his head back.

"Listen, when we do it for real, or like… renew our vows or whatever? You'll be the first to know."

"We can do that?" Cas asks.

"Yeah, I mean. People do it all the time. Why, d'you— do you want to?"

"I'd like to," Cas tells him.

"Okay. Let's do it. Maybe Cesar and Jesse will let us do it on the ranch."

"Are you two serious?" Sam asks.

"What?"

"Just like that, you're engaged now?"

"We're already married, Sam," Cas tells him, squinting. "Did you not understand what I said earlier?"

Rubbing the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, Sam pushes out a hard breath, and shakes his head, and seems to let it go.

"Congrats," he says finally.

"If you're wondering what to get us for a present," Dean says, pulling Cas alongside him toward the camp, "I hear waffle irons are always a good choice."

[written for this prompt game] [posted here on ao3 as imogenbynight 💚]

[blissfullyecho]

Habits & Behaviors We’re Leaving in 2024

Join my 3-hour live workshop on Zoom, where we will create a tailored luxe glow-up plan personalized for you for 2025. Seats are limited and are first come, first served. Click here for more info.

As the year draws to a close, it’s time to take a hard look at the habits that have no place in the life of an evolved, high-value woman. We’re stepping into 2025 with elevated standards, refined taste, and a resolute refusal to entertain anything—or anyone—that doesn’t meet our expectations.

1. Over-Explaining Yourself

Your “no” is a full sentence, and your decisions don’t require a PowerPoint presentation. In 2025, we’re embracing the unapologetic confidence to let our choices speak for themselves.

2. Saying “Sorry” Excessively

Unless you’ve actually done something wrong, the word “sorry” needs to exit your vocabulary. Replace it with “thank you” or simply stay silent. Women who constantly apologize shrink themselves—and we don’t do that anymore.

3. Mindless Scrolling

We’re no longer wasting hours on social media feeds that offer nothing of substance. In 2025, if it doesn’t inspire, educate, or entertain on an elevated level, it’s blocked. Time is too valuable to squander.

4. Neglecting Self-Care

Gone are the days of running yourself ragged and calling it “grind culture.” Self-care isn’t indulgent—it’s essential. If you don’t take care of yourself, no one else will. And no, skipping skincare because you’re “too tired” isn’t cute anymore.

5. Overbooking Your Schedule

Being busy isn’t the same as being important. In 2025, we’re prioritizing rest, leisure, and quality time over the toxic cycle of constantly saying “yes” to everything. A well-rested woman is a powerful woman.

6. Gossiping

Talking about other people’s business is officially tacky. Elevated women don’t have time for petty chatter; they’re too busy building themselves and focusing on their own glow-up.

7. Wearing Clothes That Don’t Fit or Flatter

Stop keeping jeans that don’t button and dresses that don’t make you feel like a goddess. In 2025, we’re curating wardrobes that fit now and flatter always. If it doesn’t make you feel powerful, it doesn’t deserve a hanger in your closet.

8. Accepting Bare Minimum Effort

Whether it’s friendships, relationships, or your own goals, the bare minimum is officially out. We’re done settling for mediocrity. High-value women demand effort, and that starts with demanding it from ourselves.

9. Oversharing

Not everyone deserves access to your thoughts, plans, or emotions. Oversharing is the gateway to being misunderstood or undervalued. In 2025, we’re mastering the art of mystery—because the less they know, the more they want to.

10. Comparing Yourself to Others

Comparison is a thief, and it’s stealing your joy. In 2025, we’re focusing inward. Your only competition is the woman you were yesterday. Let others live their lives while you create one so stunning they’ll want to emulate you.

11. Chasing People

The energy of 2025 is simple: what’s meant for you will come to you effortlessly. Chasing people—romantic, platonic, or professional—is beneath a high-value woman. Let them go. If they don’t see your worth, it’s their loss.

12. Procrastinating on Your Glow-Up

No more waiting until “Monday” or “next year” to start bettering yourself. The gym, the books, the skincare routine, the side hustle—start now. 2025 is the year of execution, not excuses.

13. Engaging in Drama

Drama is for people with nothing better to do. Elevated women rise above it. Keep your energy focused on your goals and let others exhaust themselves with their nonsense.

14. Spending Energy on the Unreciprocated

Whether it’s love, friendship, or support, one-sided effort is out. We’re investing in relationships and opportunities that invest back in us. No more watering dead plants.

15. Overthinking Every Decision

Analysis paralysis is not chic. Trust your intuition, make the choice, and move forward. High-value women don’t waste time second-guessing themselves—they trust that they’ll adapt to whatever comes next.

16. Staying in Your Comfort Zone

Playing small and safe is so last year. In 2025, we’re taking risks, making bold moves, and embracing the discomfort of growth. Luxe lives are built outside the comfort zone.

17. Not Celebrating Your Wins

Downplaying your accomplishments? Stop it. In 2025, we’re celebrating every milestone—big or small. You worked hard for it, so let the world know you’re winning.

18. Neglecting Boundaries

If 2024 was the year of tolerating overstepping, 2025 is the year of hard stops. Boundaries aren’t just healthy; they’re essential to maintaining your peace, your energy, and your worth.

Join my 3-hour live workshop on Zoom, where we will create a tailored luxe glow-up plan personalized for you for 2025. Seats are limited and are first come, first served. Click here for more info.

[signedaiko]

Hey Aiko! Thanks for the HCs from the last request, I really enjoyed reading every word of them.

You know those math equations where they spell “I Love You” as the final answers?

Could I request HCs of [MTMTE/LL] Perceptor where Cybertronian![Reader] [Gender Neutral] has a huge crush on him and pretends to ask for his help with some equations when they’re actually confessing their love to him through the complicated numbers and symbols?

Happy Ending: He likes them back.

Perceptor X Reader [MTMTE]

In which Perceptor's lab assistant confesses in the numeric language they both work with.

Reader is: Gender Neutral | Cybertronian | Autobot. Romantic.

The science wing aboard the Lost Light had become your home the last couple of months

More specifically, Perceptor's lab, where you'd been handpicked by the scientist to assist him with research

It was a dream come true! I mean, whatever the quest the ship was on was, it was fun and all, but having read every last one of Perceptor's research papers and lab reports, it felt wrong to be the one picked to help

He was Cybertron's genius, the best of the best, and he wasn't weird about it either

Most days you'd stand in the lab, comparing and accumulating data relevant to his research, taking care of any specimen, and cleaning

Most commonly, you were tasked with chemical waste disposal; each chemical was different, and each process was longer than the last

Today, however, Perceptor tasked you with sorting through the 'other' portfolio of research data

It was a list of all kinds of extras that were never finished, tasks galore.

It was also the perfect opportunity for you to work closely with him, since he was helping you comb through it

"What about the anti-anti-matter gun?"

"Anything with the word 'gun' is just Brainstorm trying to get me to do his projects for him. Dispose of it."

While he handled the physical box of 'other' projects, you were sifting through the online database

Thankfully your job was easier because you'd been so distracted watching him across from you and mulling over your plan that you wouldn't get anywhere otherwise

Truthfully, you'd long since sorted through everything using a quick sorting algorithm, but you'd been pretending to keep busy as you contemplated the pros and cons of confessing to Perceptor

He was your boss; if he didn't feel the same, it'd be awkward working with him every day

But your work performance was dropping with all the time you spent staring at him and daydreaming of your lives together

"Sorry, Perceptor, one last question. What is this?"

It was an entry with one equation: 9x - 7i > 3(3x - 7u)

"Don't know; you can note what it solves and delete the main file."

"But what are we solving for?"

Your bait worked, and the scientist stood up to walk behind you, leaning over your chair to get a better glimpse

"Nothing, you're supposed to fill in for 'i' and 'u,' but you can simplify it."

He leaned further in to point at the brackets

"Multiply everything in there by three. Yes, just like that. So now we have 9x - 7i > 9x - 21u."

As funny as it was that he thought you couldn't calculate it on your own, you let him continue

"9x is then cancelled out on both sides, leaving you with -7i > -21u. just divide by three and then..."

"i <3 u"

"Yes, exactly, that's as simplified as you can get it until you identify 'i' and 'u'"

Your smile faltered, realizing he may have still not understood what it said

God, how could you have expected this to work?

"Thanks, Perc—"

"For example, you could substitute 'i' for 'Perceptor' and 'u' for you. Come on now, don't act like I couldn't figure out your game. You think so little of my intellect?"

When you turned to look at him, you realized he was looking at you rather than the screen, a cocky smile sprawled across his face

"I swear I don't; I was just—"

"Just what? Thinking I thought you couldn't solve simple operations? Thinking I would have 'forgotten' such a small equation in my data banks?"

You hid your face behind your hands to try and hide the blush, but Perceptor was already chuckling and pulling you up from where you sat

"Well, if it means anything..."

He reached to the keyboard, adding an extra character

'i <3 u 2'

Author's Note - I love this guy. What a fella, what an enjoyable cocky fella!!!! Thank you for requesting!

[sinnabarmoth]

Worthy of Devotion (7/9)

Pairing: Sea God|Rafayel x Worshipper|Reader (fem)

Summary: The temple is finally restored and Reader's time on the island is at its end. She wants to leave nothing unsaid this final night with Rafayel.

Content Warnings: Adult language. Loss of virginity. Fingering. Handjob. Cunnilingus. P in V.

Length: 6k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)

Read on AO3

You finally found your way onto the roof. You ended up having to build a really tall ladder to get up there but it worked. You got yourself some rope and tied it around the supplies you needed and pulled it up after you. You figured that Rafayel would not be happy with you for this, he had thought the idea of you going on the roof at all was a bad idea. So you waited until one morning he wasn’t around to execute your plan. It was early in the morning and the sun was just starting to rise over the sea.

From the top of the temple it was a breathtaking view. No time to admire it though, you had work to do. So you went back to work and started lining up planks of wood to cover the holes in the roof. Hopefully when you returned to the mainland you could get some people who actually knew how to do this kind of work to make this something more elegant.

The repairs didn’t actually take that long. By the time the sun was directly overhead you were pretty much done. There were just a few smaller holes that you could fill in with spackle. Which meant one more trip on the ladder. You dusted yourself off and went to the side of the roof where you had left the ladder.

“Huh,” you looked around, “I’m pretty sure I set it against this wall. Where did it--oh shit.” your ladder had fallen over and you were now trapped on the roof. “He’s gonna kill me.”

“Right you are, clownfish.” Down on the ground standing under the shade of one of the trees was Rafayel. “What do you think you are doing?”

“Hello,” you waved, “I was just doing some repairs. No big deal.”

“Didn’t I say I didn’t want you climbing up there? You could hurt yourself.”

“It’s fine. Nothing went wrong.”

“Except for this.” he picked up the ladder. “What if I wasn’t around? How were you planning on getting back down?”

“I was thinking of using this rope to repel down if it got desperate enough.”

He sighed and put the ladder back up. “Get down please.”

“I’m coming.” you climbed back down. “So, how is your morning going?”

“Was going well until I found my follower somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be.” he flicked your forehead. “You don’t like doing as you’re told, do you?”

“Whatever could you mean? I have never once disobeyed you.”

“Remember when you first came to this island? You were so proper and obedient and sweet, what happened to her?”

“She got trapped here for months with only you to talk to. I think it drove her insane.” you smiled, flicking him back.

He sighed, shaking his head. “And how is your progress on the roof?”

“Almost done. I need to fill in some cracks and smaller holes but this should be it. The temple is restored.”

“I see. What about the windows? They’re still missing their glass.”

“Well, I have no way to make glass so I guess I’m just going to have to board them up for now. When the time comes that I can send other followers here I’ll send them with supplies to properly fix everything I could only patch.” You sat back on the grass and stared up at the temple. Months of work finally at fruition. No longer a ruin but a temple worthy of its god.

Rafayel sat next to you. “This means that you’ll need to return home soon.”

“Not quite yet.” you shrugged. “I have to build a boat to take me back to the mainland and considering I’ve never made a boat before that is going to take a while.”

“Do you miss it? The mainland?”

“Some things, yes.” you couldn’t lie about this. “I had friends there that I miss terribly. I miss the festivals and the foods and the music. I miss the temple I grew up in and even though they were liars I miss the elders who raised me. It’s hard to believe that I’ve been away for so long and yet the days went by so quickly.

“I’m going to miss this place when I leave and…” you glanced at Rafayel. Things you wanted to say but couldn’t get past your lips stayed trapped on your tongue. “...and I’m definitely going to miss that bed and that tub. Going back to my simple cot and having to warm my own baths is going to take some getting used to again.”

“You’re going to be returning as the woman who single handedly returned the temple to its former glory and with a brand new text straight from the mouth of a god. I think that is more than high priestess worthy, and thus you can request a better bed and for someone else to draw you baths.”

“We’ll see. I can imagine I’m going to have a lot of pushback from the elders. There may be some who try to denounce everything I say to keep with the old traditions.”

“If they do, pray to me and I’ll send a storm in to set them straight.”

“Good to know.”

“One more thing.” he reached behind the tree you were sitting under and pulled out a wooden chest. He handed it to you. “Open it.”

“What is this?” You lifted the lid and nestled inside was a pile of cloth.

“Think of it as your regalia as high priestess.” Unlike the clothes Rafayel had brought you before that were nice but clearly meant for everyday toil and work this was truly something regal. The stark white material was light and soft, accented with deep blue and stitched with gold embroidery. It was beautiful but it also looked familiar. It was at that moment you realized that it was patterned after what you saw Rafayel normally wear, with matching golden jewelry and shoes as well.

“It’s wonderful.” your voice caught as you hugged the clothes to your chest. “Raf, I…I don’t know what to say. This is too much.”

“After everything you’ve done for the temple and what you’ll do when you return, it is not nearly enough.” There looked like there was something else he wanted to say but he turned away. “Come on, I doubt you had anything to eat yet today.”

“Coming.” The day passed normally from there but you could tell that you both were avoiding talking about something important. Something that could very well determine your future.

The next couple of days you finished fixing the roof, this time with Rafayel’s supervision so you didn’t up trapped up there again. You were in the middle of going from room to room making sure you had fixed everything you could when Rafayel came in and told you he had something for you outside.

“What could you possibly have brought that you couldn’t bring it inside?” you laughed as you followed him out. You walked down the beach and you heart sunk into your feet when you saw what was on the shore.

“A boat?” you turned to Rafayel but he continued to stare straight ahead. “But where did it come from?”

“I commissioned some of my people to make it for you. You said you didn’t know how to build one and if you are going to go back to the mainland I’d prefer it that you didn’t set off on a badly built raft.” Rafayel explained.

“I can go back?”

Rafayel continued to stare at the boat, his expression unreadable. “Yes.”

It was happening. The temple was restored and you had a boat. You would need to leave soon.

“Raf, I…” There were too many emotions swirling inside you to pick just one.

“Don’t think you’re getting away so easily though.” he said, turning back to you with a bright smile. “We are celebrating your last day on the island tonight. You can scamper off back to the mainland in the morning.”

There was something about the way he spoke that felt too chipper and you wondered how sincere his happiness was. This was what you had been working towards for months. In the morning you would be leaving for the mainland and start the process of restoring your religion to what Rafayel wanted it to be. In the morning you would leave as his high priestess and your time as friends would be at an end.

The day sped by far too fast as you started gathering your things and setting them in the boat so you could leave early in the morning. You had accumulated many trinkets during your time here so it took longer than you thought. All the clothes Rafayel had brought you, the board for Jumping Shrimp you’d always play, small paintings and sketches Rafayel made for you, seashells you had collected, a piece of one of the shattered stain glass windows, and other small odds and ends that held little memories of your time here.

As evening fell you and Rafayel walked along the beach, the bright light of the full moon illuminated the island. There was a quiet peace that neither of you wanted to disturb. But as his hand interlaced with yours you felt all the things you had wanted to say for weeks bubbling up again. You knew if you left in the morning without saying anything you’d regret it the rest of your life.

“Rafayel?” your voice wavered as you spoke.

He stopped, sensing the hesitation in your voice. “Yes?”

It was unfair how beautiful he was. Those mesmerizing blue eyes and way the moonlight shined off his hair. You believed with every fiber of your being that he was a god. Maybe if he looked half as handsome it’d be easier to say all this. Maybe if he was just a man and not your deity you wouldn’t feel like such a hopeful fool.

“I um…” you swallowed past the lump in your throat, “I don’t know how to say this. I don’t even know if I should. I am terrified that I will have ruined everything we’ve built but I need you to know that I…I…”

I love you. You finished in your head, unable to get the words out. They were too real, too honest. I love everything about you. I love how serene you are when you’re painting but so focused and serious when playing games. I love the way you play with me, even when you’re trying to annoy me. I love the way you hold me when we sleep. I love how passionate you are and funny and kind. I love you so much it breaks my own heart cause loving you is literally like trying to love the ocean. You’re far too vast for me to hold, but I would still drown trying to. I love you, Rafayel.

The world came to a still. There was no breeze. The ocean itself had smoothed into glass.

Rafayel cupped your cheek and tilted your face up to his, wiping your tears away. “Your prayer has been heard.” he whispered before he claimed your lips in a kiss as deep as the ocean itself.

You swayed, falling further into him as you kissed him back. You put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. His tongue pressed gently against your lips and you parted them for him. You were glad you were already holding onto him as his tongue swept tentatively into your mouth, tasting you deeper. When all the air had been taken from your lungs he pulled back slightly to let you breathe.

“Cor meum,” he murmured against your lips, “Don’t leave.”

You blinked, coming out of the daze the kiss had left you in. “What?”

“I don’t want you to leave.” he kissed the corner of your mouth. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“Raf, I…” your heart split in two, caught between desire and duty. “It won’t be goodbye. I will still pray to you every night. You’re my god. We’ll never be far apart from each other.”

“Why do we have to be apart at all?” tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. “Was it not you who said you weren’t even sure if you wanted to return to the mainland because the other priests had been lying? Why return to that?”

“And let everyone keep worshiping you the way you don’t want to be? I need to go back. To make things right. It’s what we’ve been working towards all this time.” you held tightly to him, scared that he’d slip from you if you let go for even a moment. “If I don’t then this temple will be abandoned again.”

You could tell he was fighting for some counterpoint. Something that could make you change your mind.

“You want me to be your high priestess.” you said. “I can make real change as that. I can be a wonderful priestess to you. Isn’t that what you want?”

“I want you.” he took in a shaky breath. “Please. Stay.”

“It would be selfish if I did.” These words were breaking your heart but you knew you couldn’t escape your duty. You had promised that you would correct things, change the narrative that the charlatan priests had been spreading for centuries. You loved him, but because you loved him you knew you needed to do this. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry we can’t have both.”

“You…you won’t be moved, will you?”

You shook your head.

He kissed your forehead, breathing you in as he thought. “If this is what will happen then I want you to be mine and mine alone. My priestess, cor meum, belong to me, body and soul.”

“Don’t I already?”

“Then let me be yours as well. I want none to have me the way you do.” He swallowed nervously, “Lemuria and the mainland are too far apart. It may well be that we may not see each other again and if that is our fate then I want to spend this final night with you.”

Your heart flipped in your chest. “What do you mean?”

“I want to move with you, like the tide lapping the shore.” he pressed you closer, “I want to make love to you, cor meum.”

The air around you suddenly choked you with heat. “Aren’t priests and priestesses supposed to remain celibate?” your voice could just barely be heard over the wind.

“Because they are devoted to me. Does celibacy mean anything if the person you are sleeping with is your god?” he asked.

“I suppose you have a point there.” you wished your heart would stop beating so fast, you could hardly catch your breath. “So yes.”

“Yes, what?” he prompted, a playful smile on his face.

“Yes, I want to belong to you in a way no others who become your followers can. I want you to be mine in a way no one else will be able to replicate. I want you to make love to me, Rafayel.”

His breath stuttered as he pulled you up off your feet and began to walk back to the temple. The closer you got the more nervous you became. You had come to terms long ago that because of your lot in life you would never be allowed to fall in love, much less have sex. Being a priestess meant that your life began and ended with your god, no one could have any other part of you. Because of that you had never worried about it before now and it was becoming alarmingly clear how out of your depth you were.

“Um, Rafayel,” you squeaked out, “Is this going to hurt? I’ve heard stories about how women hurt the first time they have relations with a man.”

“I wouldn’t know.” he said. You could see the tips of his ears burning bright red. “I haven’t exactly done this before.”

“Had sex with a human?”

The red spread to his face. “Actually…” he cleared his throat, “Something I never mentioned when we were writing the history of the Sea Gods is that they are um…bonding creatures. Whoever they partner with is the only person they will ever be with.”

“Oh.” your face heated as well. “So you’ve never done this at all either?”

“Yes.”

“And if we do this, what does that mean for you?”

“It means exactly what I said on the beach.” you were up the steps and in front of the door to the bedroom. “I want none to have me the way you do. It will only ever be you, cor meum.”

“But--”

“Shh,” he nudged the door open with his foot and carried you inside. “This is what I want. I will have only you for as long as I live. It does not matter if it is ten, twenty, a hundred years from now. I will always be waiting for you to come back to me, if you ever wish to.”

“Are you saying all this to get me to stay?”

“Partly.” he set you back on your feet. “But I know that you’re stubborn and you will do whatever you wish. I just hope one day you’ll wish to come back to me.”

You pushed yourself to your toes to kiss him again. He returned it with fervor, pulling you close so your body was pressed flush against him.

“Care to help me get this off?” you asked, glancing down at the tunic he was bunching in his hands.

“I can do that.” he stepped back slightly, finding the hem of your tunic and slowly pulling it up and over your head. Your arms automatically went to cover yourself. “Nothing to be shy about, cor meum. It isn’t anything I haven’t seen from you before. But I would love the chance to admire it in full.”

You lowered your arms again, forcing them to remain at your side. He studied you much in the same way he admired the frescoes in the temple, with reverence and awe. With a deep breath you slid the loose pants off your hips so they pooled around your legs, leaving you completely bare before him. His nostrils flared and that little spark of light was once again lit in his eyes.

“Your turn.” you said. You were shaking and couldn’t tell if it was nerves or the wind blowing in through the open windows.

“Right.” he cleared his throat and began removing the pieces of jewelry from his person one by one. He let them clatter on the ground, his eyes never leaving you as he was stripped of his adornments. Finally he reached for the golden pin that helped keep the sarong he always wore in place and took it out. The material fell to the floor and heat pooled between your legs as you stared at his dick. Anatomy lessons and statues really did not prepare you for being faced with the real thing.

“Let’s get on the bed.”

You nodded and sat yourself down in the center of the bed. He followed after you, sitting down next to you. “Let’s just take it slow.” he said.

“Good idea.”

He kissed your forehead, your left eyelid followed by your right, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. Each gentle kiss a moment to be savored. “You’re so beautiful, cor meum.” he whispered before claiming your lips again.

You pressed your hands against his chest, feeling the way his heart pounded under your palm as you kissed. He touched you gently, experimentally, his hands caressing your arms and running down the length of your spine. Each touch felt like he left a trail of fire in his wake. More of that heat was building between your legs and you pressed them tightly together to stave off the feeling.

You shifted slightly as you were rolled to your back. Your arms wove around his neck as he pressed his naked torso to yours. His skin against yours was an intoxicating intimacy you had only glanced in stolen moments when you swam together, when your clothes were plastered to your skin making you feel as if you wore none at all. But now there was nothing in the way between you and it made your head swim.

You pulled back from the kiss and dragged your lips down to the column of his throat. A deep sigh exhaled from him as you kissed along his neck. “Cor meum…” he breathed out.

“You going to tell me what that means now?” you muttered against his skin. You found the spot where his pulse thundered and you gave a small bite.

“My heart.” he moaned, “It means you are my heart.”

“Cor meum,” you tested the foreign word, the unfamiliar syllables tumbling past your lips. “Did I say it right?”

“Lemurian sounds beautiful on your tongue, my heart.” he pulled your face back to his, kissing you quick. “I want to hear how you say other things, starting with my name.”

“Does your name sound different in Lemurian?”

“I didn’t mean in Lemurian.” he gave you a rakish smile. His hands moved again, resting on your hips and moved slowly up your torso towards your chest but not further than that. He seemed to be seeking permission. You took one of his hands and moved it to you cup your breast.

“You are a wonder,” he kissed the underside of your jaw, “Say my name, please.”

“Rafayel,” you said.

He ran a thumb over your nipple, teasing it into a hard peak. A whine built in your throat. “Again.” he said, watching the way your lip quivered as small waves of arousal coursed through your body.

“Rafayel.” His name came out breathless and needy. “Rafayel, my Rafayel. Please.”

“What do you want me to do?” he swallowed, staring hard at your face. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Here,” you took his hand and guided it back down to your body where you most wanted to be touched.

Growing up you had been taught that if your goal was to be a priestess you could not indulge in any carnal pleasure. It went against dedicating yourself to your god. But as a teenager you had been curious as to what was so bad about it and decided to indulge, purely out of scientific curiosity. At least that was what you told yourself. It was strange but it also felt good and you wondered why such a thing was forbidden for the higher ups in the clergy. Your pleasure was a secret that caused bliss and guilt, because despite how nice it had felt you thought you were doing something blasphemous.

Now, it all felt so ridiculous. You were with your god, leading his hand to your core, showing him how to touch you and none of it felt wrong.

Short gasps and moans of pleasure punctuated the air as his fingers moved with yours along your slit and over your clit. Rafayel was attentive and watched what motions and which places made you writhe and moan the most. A single slender finger pushed into your cunt and you immediately clamped down around it.

He slid it in and out, curling it just so like you told him until he got the motion and added another finger to fill you and stretch you out more.

“Raf--” you bit your lip, fighting for some form of control to get the words out, “Raf, show me. Please.”

“What?” he tore his attention away from watching his hand between your legs. “What do you need?”

“I want to touch you too.” you said, “Show me.”

“Oh,” he said, eyes darting down to his dick which stood between you hard and flushed as red as his face. “I’m scared if you touch me there I might explode.”

“We have all night.” you reminded him. “I want you to feel good too.”

“Alright, give me your hand.” You gave him your hand and he brought it to his cock. A guttural groan left his lips upon your touch and you squeaked a little when his cock seemed to twitch in your hand. “Sorry,” he said. “Like I said, I’m very close to coming already. Just, grasp it like this and move up and down, firmly but not too tight.”

Your hand began to move and his head dropped forward as his breathing got more ragged. He left you to it, his attention going back to stroking your cunt. You could tell you were both nervous, both eager to please, and both trying to fight the pleasure inside you so you could go on pleasing each other. It was like a game of push and pull, and whoever came first was the loser. Unfortunately for Rafayel he was right about how close he had been. As your hand got quicker his sanity slipped faster until he was panting and thrusting into your fist.

He cursed something in Lemurian as he came, the thick and sticky white substance of his seed coated your hand and a bit had also splattered on your abdomen. His dick became soft again and he laid back breathing hard as he tried to catch his breath.

“You made a bit of a mess,” you giggled, wiping the drops off with a corner of the bedsheets.

“Your fault.” he sighed, “I told you what was gonna happen and you still insisted.”

“Of course. Do you have any idea how beautiful you look when you come? It was well worth it.”

“You still need yours.” Rafayel raked his eyes up and down your body. “And this time, you aren’t going to distract me.”

“What do you mean--” your words died in your throat as he brought the fingers that had been in your cunt to his mouth and sucked the juices off them one at a time.

“So sweet, I want to taste more.” he slid down your body. You automatically closed your legs, embarrassed that he was looking so closely at your cunt. He rested his chin on your knees. “If you don’t want me to I won’t but I’d really like to taste you. May I?”

“I uh…” he ran his hands up and down your thighs, easing you and grounding you in the moment. You took in a deep breath and let it out slowly then gradually parted your legs once more. “Alright.”

He kissed your knee. “It’s alright, my heart. I’ll do my best to make you feel good.”

His eyes drifted down and hungrily took in the sight of your cunt spread before him, already plenty wet from his fingering earlier. He slotted himself between your legs, pressing kisses along your thighs. He shot you a mischievous little smile before biting the supple flesh. A sharp squeak escaped you when he did and more arousal pooled at your core. He noticed the way your muscles flexed and he did it again, a little harder. He lathed his tongue over the bite mark before setting his sights back on your cunt.

You could tell he was being careful, the touch of his lips against your cunt was gentle and explorative. You fisted your hands in the sheets of the bed, soft moans echoing in the room as he figured out what spots and motions made you see stars. When he finally parted your folds to slide his tongue against you, burying his face into your cunt so he could lap up the arousal leaking out of you is when your composure really started to go.

You fisted a hand in his hair, unsure if you were trying to keep him there or trying to pull him off. His eyes were closed as he devoured you. You could tell you were reaching a climax but unlike the secret pleasures you had stolen back on the mainland it wasn’t a point of release followed by relaxation. Your legs were shaking, your moans growing louder than they had ever been before, and it felt as if a tidal wave was rushing towards you about to pull you out to sea.

“Raf--Raf--” your grip on his hair got stronger. “Fuck! Please! Please Raf! Please!”

You weren’t even sure what you were begging for. Was it release? Was it for him to stop? Everything was far too much. You were racing forward faster than you could comprehend and he was showing no sign of slowing. In fact, when you started repeating his name he got even faster, holding your hips down with one arm while his free hand rubbed circles over your clit.

Too much! Too much! Too much!

“Raf--” your body seized as a pleasure far more fervid and immense than what you had known before tore through you and left you panting and gasping for breath.

He pulled back almost immediately, watching the way your body twitched and rode out the intense orgasm. “Are you alright?”

“I think so…” you were still trying to get your bearings. “I didn’t realize that the climax could feel so…strong. Are you sure you’ve never done this with someone else before?”

“Positive.” he climbed back up, wiping the shine of your arousal from his mouth. “But I like to think I’m very observant, so we can thank that for what just happened.”

A giggle gathered in your throat and you tried to suppress it. “What?” Rafayel asked. “What are you laughing about?”

“Sorry, I just um…I don’t want to say it.”

“Oh no, please, what were you going to say?”

“I just thought it was funny that you said you’re very observant but apparently not observant enough to realize when you were walking into a trap when we played Jumping Shrimp.”

“And again with Jumping Shrimp! It always comes back to that with you, doesn’t it?” Rafayel pulled you close, tickling your sides as he nuzzled his face in your neck.

“I’m sorry! This is why I didn’t want to say it. I knew you were gonna get pouty on me.”

“I’m not pouting.” he bit your neck. “How could I when have you spread out like this?”

“Raf!” your face burned anew. “You can’t just say that!”

“Why not? No one else is here to hear us.” he pulled your hands away from your face and kissed you. There was something intoxicating about tasting yourself on his tongue. It made you wish that you hadn’t wiped his seed off your hand. Maybe he would have enjoyed the sensation too.

“And I’m grateful there’s no one else here,” he murmured, “I want these precious sounds you make to belong to only me.”

“Always.” you brushed some of his hair out of his eyes, “I want you to make love to me now, Rafayel. I’m ready if you are.”

“I love you.” he said, “I will only love you for the rest of my days.”

He settled between your legs, hands braced on your hips as he notched his cock at the entrance of your cunt. You had decided to fist the sheets again as means to keep you tethered to sanity as he gave you one final loving look before slowly pushing inside. A whine of discomfort burned your throat and he stopped.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, concern etched across his face.

“A bit.” you tried to relax. “I’m good. Keep going, please.”

“We don’t have to rush. We have all night.” he assured you. He pulled back just a bit before sinking in again, pushing a little deeper as your body relaxed and stretched bit by bit to accommodate him.

It still hurt but not nearly as bad as what you had expected. After what felt like forever of slowly rocking together he was fully sheathed inside you. No matter what happened now, you were bonded…forever. No one could have this and no one could take it away.

“Rafayel,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” his voice was deep and strained. You could feel him throbbing inside you, desperate to move. “I love you so much.”

And just like how the waves swayed your body as you laid on the surface of its endless tide, you moved with Rafayel as only lovers could. He started shallow and slow until the pain and uncomfortableness of your joining began to ebb away. You could feel pinpricks of pleasure building behind the uncertainty of your movements.

“You’re so beautiful.” he said. “Need to sear this image into my memory.”

Your body glistened with buds of sweat blossoming over your skin. Back and forth you pushed and pulled with him. Your nails dug into his back as the pleasure started to overtake the pain. The drag of his cock along your walls felt euphoric. You fit so well together, as if you had been made to slot together perfectly for one another. Maybe you had been.

Almost all your life you had been told you were blessed by the ocean. Maybe that had been for a reason. Maybe this was where you were always meant to end up. Locked together with the sea itself in a dance as old as time.

“Cor meum…” Rafayel said through gritted teeth, “You feel divine. I don’t know how long I can keep this up though. From the moment I felt you around me all I’ve wanted was to rut against you like an animal. It feels so good. Too good. But I still want you to come with me.”

“Alright.” you wanted that too. “Go a little faster,” you told him. Your hand slid down your stomach and teased your clit, “And kiss me.”

His mouth crashed to yours as he picked up the pace, his slow measured thrusts getting faster and more out of rhythm as he began chasing his own pleasure. Your legs kicked and squirmed as all the sensations came together. With the additional pressure on your clit you felt another orgasm drawing closer.

Rafayel’s mouth slanted across yours, his moans being swallowed by you as he got closer and closer. You could hardly breathe at all. Your body desperate for release moved to meet his thrusts. He took charge, grabbing your hips and moving them in sync with him so it felt even better.

He repeated your name over and over, his voice getting more desperate the closer he got. “Come with me.” he pleaded. “I need you to come with me, cor meum. Please!”

“Want to! I want to come with you!” You were just at a tipping point. So close! “Rafayel!”

His hips snapped against yours twice, maybe three more times and then he stilled as he came and the sensation was that final push you needed to come as well. Your cunt clamped down around him and you could feel the warmth of his fill and coat your insides. The feel of it sent a shiver up your spine.

You both slumped, his body pressed atop yours as you tried to catch your breath after the incredible high. His softening cock was still wedged in you but you didn’t dare move him. You wanted to burn this feeling into your brain. If could capture this moment in a bottle and keep it with you forever you would.

“How do you feel?” Rafayel was the first to speak, his words mumbled into your ear.

“Incredible.” you turned your head to kiss his cheek. “Exhausted, but incredible.”

“Same.” he gently pulled out of you. You whined a bit at the motion. Suddenly you felt far too empty. Your cunt would forever be molded by the shape of him and only him. “One moment.” he started to move away from you. You instinctively grabbed his arm.

“It’s alright, I’m not going far.” he said with a smile and brushed a feather soft kiss to your face. You noticed with some pride that he was walking awkwardly towards the bathing room. You may not have had the energy to walk but you were glad that you had thoroughly winded him too.

He came back from the bathing room with a wet rag in hand and wiped clean the mess of fluids that had accumulated between your legs. “Figured you wouldn’t want to sleep with all of that sticking to you.” After he was done he tossed the rag away and joined you back in bed.

“Thanks.” you immediately nestled right against him.

For a while you didn’t say anything. You simply laid together and breathed, basking in the post coital bliss. Maybe this night could stretch on forever.

“We are bonded.” Rafayel said, drawing your attention back to him. “Cor meum, my heart, I vow to you this, should you ever call me, I will always answer. No matter where we are, what I am doing, you will know I am always listening to you. And if one day you say you want to come home, I will bring you home.”

“I will.” you said, tears gathering in your eyes again. “One day, I don’t know when. I don’t know how long rebuilding a religion will take but I will come home to you. I promise.”

“Don’t take too long.” he whispered, holding you close. “I love you, more than anything in this world.”

“I love you, Rafayel. I always have, I always will.”

You repeated the words over and over as the day began to wear down on you and for the final night for a long time, you fell asleep in the arms of your god.

[menagerofmischief]

nsfw alphabet -> jb22

masterlist

nsfw alphabet (a-z)

jenson button x fem!reader

cw: I think it's pretty clear what's under the cut, so proceed as you will, 18+ content

a/n: I've never done a nsfw alphabet but this seemed fun. feel free to send requests for nsfw alphabets.

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Jenson may be a slut, but he's a needy slut that's for sure. Once you're done he's desperate to be touching you in any way, as long as your skin is touching his skin he's content. He'll run you a bath and get in with you or just clean you up and cuddle you to sleep.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

On himself he loves his arm and chest, it's clear he's an athlete and works out and he likes the way he looks, nothing wrong with that.

Ass man, boob man ... Jenson is a thighs man! He loves your thighs, especially if they're bigger. He'll grip them to the point where there will be visible bruises the next morning. He loves leaving hickeys and small bites there as well and especially loves holding onto your thighs as you ride him.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

He loves it no matter where it ends up. On your tits, your face, your stomach, your ass, over your pussy. But his favorite place has got to be inside. Something about watching his cum leaking from you really lights a spark inside of him.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Once you gave him a spicy polaroid picture, and now he keeps it in his wallet. When he's traveling and you can't join he definitely takes it out and uses it.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

This goes without saying that he's experienced. Jenson's been around, that's for sure, but at the end of the day it all makes him a more skilled lover for you.

F= Favorite position

Doggy -> he likes to see your back arch and your ass shake as he pounds into you, sometimes he'll give your ass a smack, other time's he'll reach around you and grope your tits.

Cowgirl -> he likes to see you on top, especially when he can prop himself up and take one of your nipples into his mouth. don't be fooled tho, he will plant his feet down and fuck up into you like there's no tomorrow.

Missionary -> oldie but a goodie, sometimes he really needs some intimate eye to eye loving and you're happy to oblige.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

It all depends on the mood. Sometimes he's cracking a few jokes along the way and other times the only thing coming from his mouth is unfiltered dirty dirty talk.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

He keeps it trimmed pretty close but doesn't completely shave it off as the feeling of it growing back gets uncomfortable for him. He doesn't really care about what you do as long as you're comfortable, he's not afraid to go exploring.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Back when he was racing it was often fast paced and rough. While there's still times that it is, now that he's retired it's slower and more romantic.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

When you can't join him for travel he'll face time you or use one of your dirty photos and jack off. At home he doesn't really do it since he has you. Is down for mutual masturbation.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Little kinky slut, if I'm being honest. But mainly: exhibitionism, size kink, overstimulation.

Also really enjoys having sex in front of a mirror and occasionally making a home made sex tape.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

He's open to doing it pretty much anywhere but at the end of the day he prefers his bedroom because he can really take his time and take you apart properly.

M= Motivation (what gets them going)

Pretty much anything, he's always ready to go. If you're in the mood, he's in the mood.

N= No (something they won't do)

He doesn't want to do anything that will seriously hurt you. Indulging in some light BDSM is fine, but any actual pain and he's stopping immediately.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

As much as he loves the feel of your lips wrapped around his dick, he absolutely adores eating you out. Could spend the whole day between your legs and it would be a day well spent. He's pretty skilled with his tongue and will have you cumming multiple times.

P= Pace (do they prefer it slow or fast)

Really depends on the mood. Sometimes it can be hard and fast fucking and other times it's passionate love making.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer quickies or taking their time)

While he does prefer to take his time and make you fall apart under him multiple times, sometimes there's not enough times and there come in the quickies.

He's down for quickies, and will absolutely make you cum no matter how little time the two of you have. He'll do it pretty much anywhere, from his driver's room to the public bathroom of a restaurant or a club.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

He's down for new things and would try anything once before writing it off. And he's a bit of an exhibitionist so definitely up for doing it in risky places.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go)

He's an athlete and has pretty great stamina so safe to say he can go for multiple rounds with little to no breaks. He'll have you cumming at least twice every time as well.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Full box of toys under your bed, from vibrators to inhumanly shaped dildos and anal beads, there's everything in there. Watched 50 Shades and wanted to ass a red room to your house but you told him no.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

He loves teasing you, anywhere and anytime. On a formal dinner, he'll slip his hand underneath your dress under the table. In the car, in the bedroom, really anywhere.

He's okay with you teasing him as well but gets frustrated pretty easily and will bend you over the nearest surface.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

As soon as his mouth is open it's full on dirty talk. He'll say the nastiest things possible, with few grunts, gasps and swear words in between. Sometimes when you're on top and going extra slow or teasing him he'll whine, but it's not often.

W= Wild card (random headcannon of any sort)

He bent you over his race car and fucked you like an animal in heat after he won the championship. Still thinks about it sometimes.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in those pants)

A bit over 7 inches and he knows how to use it well. His dick is pretty, with a pink tip and a vein running along the underside.

Y= Yearning (sex drive)

Man is a proper whore. He's horny 24/7, as soon as you even give him a suggestive look he's ready to drop his pants and get going.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

If he's has a really rough day he'll fall asleep earlier than usual, but in general he liked laying with you and waiting for you to fall asleep first.

hope you enjoyed, leave a like or reblog <3

[featherlight-touches]

Requests open? 👀

How about some lee Wanderer and ler Nahida? Just some mother-son bonding fluff 😌😌😌

aaah! thank you for your request! I did try my best with these two but I feel I need to work on their characters a bit more. But I appreciate the opportunity to try writing for them! Here you go, a short and sweet one shot. I hope you enjoy!

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

Nahida and Wanderer sat together beneath the lush, verdant canopy of a towering tree in the heart of Sumeru. The sunlight filtered down through the swaying leaves, casting a warm, golden glow over the pair as they enjoyed a rare moment of peace.

She often sat with Wanderer on his free days from the Akademiya as a chance for them to catch up and see how his studies are getting along. However, today seemed different. 

“Is there something on your mind?” Nahida commented to the anemo user. She couldn't help but notice a distant, distracted look in Wanderer's eyes and her gentle curiosity was piqued. “You seem to be unusually quiet today.”

Wanderer seemed to sigh at her concern, his eyes looking out towards the trees aimlessly. “Why do you always assume something is wrong just because I’m not talking?”

“Well, normally during our get togethers, you will tell me about your studies. But you have barely said a word today.”

“There’s nothing to report,” Wanderer dismissed, not coldly but with enough bite to let Nahida know what kind of mood she was dealing with.

“You do remember that you can talk to me about anything that troubles you, yes?” Nahida reminded gently, placing a comforting hand upon his knee in a kind gesture. However, Wanderer seemed to be unsure about the contact and removed his knee from her touch.

He then sighed. “Yes.”

Nahida gave a disappointed glance at his stubbornness. After all this time, he still wasn’t at a comfortable level to be open with her about things. It’s clear to her that he still only saw himself as someone in her debt and not someone who can be seen as a friend.

She looked to his face, noting his unreadable expression. It was clear he was thinking about something intently, focusing on something that only he knew about. Nahida was curious, but not enough to break her promise to him. She would never read his mind without his consent.

However, there could be other ways for her to lift his spirits, even if just a little. Her eyes scanned the grass around them, searching her surroundings for something specific.

A mischievous glint entered her eyes when she found a slender blade of grass swaying gently in the warm breeze. As she reached out, delicately plucking the verdant stalk and twirling it between her fingers, she leaned in close to Wanderer, and with a featherlight touch, tenderly brushed the grass against the shell of his ear.

The ticklish sensation caused him to start in surprise, his pensive expression dissolving into one of bewilderment as he turned to face Nahida, who greeted him with a sickeningly sweet smile, one that could only belong to her.

“Really?” Wanderer asked, his voice dripping with annoyance at her childish antics.

“I thought maybe I could get you to smile a little,” she responded cheerfully. Wanderer hunched his shoulder to itch the tickly feeling from his ear, his eyes narrowed in lack of amusement.

“If you do that, you’re not getting it. That’s just annoying.”

“Hm. Well, are you ticklish anywhere else?” Nahida then asked, taking him by surprise.  

“Where, under all that divinity, do you get the sheer audacity to ask such a question?”

“Oh, come now, you act as if that’s not a completely normal thing to ask,” Nahida giggled, seemingly very amused by his question.

“It isn’t normal to ask a puppet if they’re ticklish. Besides, the answer is no.”

“I don’t believe you,” she declared with a tone of mischief, one that she knew would always etch a sense of fear of uncertainty within him.

“Suit yourself- Ack!” He startled again once he felt a small pinch to his side, and then another, and another. “Stop that!”

“Why? Does it tickle?”

“I …” He then groans with a slight tint of embarrassment forming across his cheeks, glaring his eyes to the trees before them, almost as if he wanted to avoid showing anger towards the Archon.

“Just admit it and maybe I will stop.” She tried, using her index finger to continue to poke against his side. She could tell his composure was slowly faltering by the way he started to jolt when her finger travelled higher to his ribs.  

He looks down and makes a huff sound which sounds awfully like a laugh in Nahida’s opinion. “You sure have a funny way of- wait! Lesser Lord Kusanali! N-Not there!” Nahida’s fingers dug into his upper ribs which finally got the results she wanted.

The usually stoic and moody Wanderer had finally broken down into laughter. It was different than his usual menacing chuckles, more genuine and happier. It suited him, Nahida decided.

“You should laugh and smile more,” she said over his ticklish laughter, continuing her playful assault. “You’ll make more friends that way.”

“Enough already!” his laughter started to sound more frantic the higher she travelled up and it resulted in him keeping his arms down by his sides to stop her. “I get it! Would you please just stop?”

“I will stop, but only if you promise to be more open and let the people who care about you help you through your troubles.”

“That’s asking an awful lot- AHAHA! OK! Fine!” he lets out one final laugh and once Nahida ceases her tickling with that mischievous giggle of hers, he finally relaxes, although taking extra measures and scooting away from her slightly.  

“Good, because I will be making sure,” Nahida smiled warmly, a warmth that always perplexed him judging by his expression. Nahida could tell that he was not used to it but was determined to slowly ease him into feeling the true bonds of family and friendship.

“Who knew that the Archon of wisdom could be so cruel.”

But his smile was something that Nahida achieved that day, and for that, she was happy.

[mysticaltora8276]

And that’s just from the first movie. That’s not getting into the canon expanded universe of what they did and even legends makes it clear that they’re monstrous. And the person try to explain a way as “oh they’re ironic”. Yeah that doesn’t fly with me because it’s not funny nor is it “ironic”. Then she use a sub of “magneto did nothing wrong or was right.” Thing is is that magneto is the villain he does wrong things, but he was supposed to be the Malcolm X of the X-Men saga. And there are instances where you’re supposed to go “you know his methods may not be right, but he’s not wrong about certain things.” He supposed to be a morally great character and depending on the author he could be a full-blown villain, or a misunderstood Crusader of mutant rights. The empire on the other hand? It’s based off of Nazism and fascism. There is no supposed to be. They did nothing wrong. They are the bad guys in the story. It’s a black-and-white issue because fascism usually has ideology that is evil behind it. Hell, the term fascism came from Mussolini who joined the Nazis that should tell you something about how evil it is.

To continue on my soapbox. The Jedi are not a cult. And cult as someone who studied anthropology let me tell you something cult is not the same thing as what the Jedi are, which is a religion. They are a freaking religion. A cult is a series instead of beliefs that a group of people might have while religion is something that takes the group collective beliefs and put them into a system. I’m really getting sick of hearing how the Jedi or a “cult.“ And for the record no the Jedi don’t force anybody to do anything. You’re free to leave at any point of your journey and they will let you go with no regrets. And they could even contact friends and their fellows at the temple. Literally there is no cutting them off.

And for the record for people that want to show me links, please for the love of all people do not send me to a group that literally says “the empire did nothing wrong.“ Even in an ironic sense, it’s still disgusting. The empire is a fascist group of Nazisthat committed a genocide several times and installed a fascist dictatorship. They’re the bad guys. Like the Sith who that other person tried to excuse.

Secondly, the Jedi are not “government agents.” They are keepers of the peace who work with the government, but they are certainly not of the government. They’re like the they’re like the UN. Only a religious group. They’re kinda of like the Catholic Church in medieval Europe that was supposed to be separate but got intertwined in politics. Or like Buddhist temples that also were supposed to be separate but again got intertwined and politics. Unlike the the examples , the Jedi were not actively seeking power, but the corrupt government began to lean on them more more so that way they didn’t have to do anything.

[thingscanalwaysgetworse]

Thinking about the Ian/Ellie/Ian reunion through a romantic lens. Spending decades trying to convince themselves that they didn’t miss each other and then they meet up and it’s like?? Alan and Ellie are already gazing at each other like long-lost lovers. When they walk into Ian’s lecture, he pauses and looks like his world has just shifted on its axis. Ellie and Ian always had something going on between them but now Alan’s realizing that his own feelings for Ian are maybe less platonic than he thought. And then later they’re all bickering lovingly like they’ve been married for years. I’m unwell

[cherrysnax]

im very silly but sometimes it annoys me when people don’t enjoy something the exact same way I do. and it’s suuuuch a bad trait and I’m working on it 😭