#we have made this space our own it belongs to us

[thedeepmiracleperfection]

like others have said it's very comforting to me to know that this fandom is over 30 years old and that for about 27 of those years (I believe the show was first announced in 2017) it was what is called a "dormant fandom".

for most of the history of good omens, the book was the one and only piece of media we were ever going to get. yes the radio show was a thing, but it was fairly recent in GO's history. We take for granted how much the show has become the fandom, so much so that for many people the show IS the definitive "good omens". Just a few years ago there was no david tennant and michael sheen, there were no longing glances and micro expressions and soundtrack and francis mcdormand voice over and body swap and certainly the idea of a sequel was so far fetched it felt like a crack idea.

and yet, there was a fandom. it may not have been particularly large or especially active, especially as years went on, but it was dedicated and it was there. there were book-based fanfictions being written and posted online as early as the 90s (some of which I think you can still find because they have been retroactively posted on ffn and ao3) and up until 2019 when the show aired. it's actually super interesting to go back and look at old works for this fandom and see the difference in what the widely accepted headcanons were and what the general fanon designs for Crowley and Aziraphale were like.and how obvious the shift was after the show came out.

anyway the point is, if the fandom could survive decades on a novel and people's imaginations, it can certainly survive on two incredibly entertaining seasons and what is hopefully an acceptable final movie. the fandom may not always be as active as it is right now. I actually consider the fandom to be less active right now than it was when the show first came out. if anyone remembers what it was like in 2019 and early 2020, that first year of the show being out was crazy. it became tumblr's most tagged ship of 2019. thousands of fanfics were written and posted that year and i believe good omens has maintained at least the top 10 spot in the AO3 ship list every year since. at least it's usually very high placing. but even in just the almost 6 years that the show has been out, I have seen many creators and many fans come and go. there are some big names that have been staples and I've been in the fandom all the way through, and there have been some who were hot for a minute and then moved on to other things. it happens in every fandom. it's natural to wax and wane as time goes on.

my point is- mah point is dolphins- no my point is that this fandom will never die. We will always be here lurking in dark graveyards with hand baskets with antichrists in them. Good omens has completely and irrevocably changed my life, and no matter how engaged I am in the fandom in the years to come, it will always have a tender place in my heart and I will always come back to it. As long as nightingales sing and the Earth isn't blown up, so too will I be here. And I know there are many others who feel the same.

Will the Good Omens fandom remain active after season 3 comes out?

Honestly, this is the only detail that doesn't really make me want s3 to come out anytime soon.

I didn't have much experiences in big fandoms before so I don't know and im quite scared the love of the fandom will run out of steam one day or another after the end of the sho.w

[i07jeuu]

reblog if u want pleaaase: (btw no shade to any mutuals ilysm)

🙏 please americans and europeans, do not make our situation yours, all venezuelans are aware that the united states fails on many occasions with respect to other countries, but venezuela is not one of them, the sanctions did not start in 2003, or in 2012.

if you think that because you are left-wing you have the right to act with your savior complex and want to have an opinion above the people who have lived in this hell since it started, it makes you part of the problem.

many people wonder why so many latino immigrants voted for the orange pig in the last elections, but in reality the new 2020 american left wave has done everything possible to silence us, giving awards to musicals based on stereotypes of us and on serious problems; and whitewashing politicians who degrade us just because they belong to the same side.

at the very moment i'm writing this, the dictatorship has started blocking many social networks and vpns, they are planning a national blackout in a couple of days just to silence us.

it sounds stupid but tiktok became one of the main sources of information after twitter was blocked "for 10 days" (spoiler: it's still banned) and it's going to get ban at 12:00 am, 09 january of 2025.. with more than 30 vpns, incluiding what i personal use, proton (and tunnelbear too, lol)

why? there is a national protest tomorrow, there will most likely be many dead and wounded, maduro is paying people (who are not even chavistas) $50-100$ to serve as human shields.

maduro is going to proclaim himself consecutively in an illegal manner on 10/01/2025, without showing electoral records that demonstrate his victory.

we are aware that our opposition leaders can give the USA a lot of freedom, but we prefer that and having a new problem, to continuing to endure 27 years of constant threats, and restrictions on our public services. one of the reasons why we love maria corina so much is because she, since chavez was still alive, and we had not yet known what it was like to not have food in our refrigerators, she confronted chavismo every chance she got, even though everyone (incluiding chávez) made fun of her and took advantage of her because she was a female opponent in a political space full of nasty mens.

minorities (like me 🏳️‍🌈) are constantly mocked on open television (mandatory btw) making fun of us, women, and trans people.. making blackface and also naming how they have invaded and destroyed indigenous spaces..

also, if you think it's cool that he said "free palestine" on open tv, you don't want to know which illegitimate country he secretly exports weapons to (and also owns a lot of private oil) lol..

going to tag @latinotiktok so maybe this post can reach more ppl 😵‍💫 and pls reblog if u want !!

[sunshineandspencer]

Friendly face

A/N: Aaron Hotchner, thank you for being there when our fathers weren’t 🙏🙏

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Receptionist!Reader.

Summary: The higher ups decided that the BAU needed their own reception area so that visitors and the agents had their own friendly face whenever they come back from a case. Hotch already has a soft spot for her.

Word Count: 741

Warnings: just a little fluff for my first Hotch fic, because receptionist!reader and Hotch makes me feral

Part 2!!

When they first told her that she’d be moved from the normal reception to a special one being made for her up in the BAU, she thought that she’d been sent a spam email. Laughing it off and getting back to her baking.

Until her boss escorted her up to her new desk the next morning.

Thankfully, all her belongings had been boxed up by other staff, and had already been moved up in boxes for her to unpack. 

Her days were long, and she was routinely one of the first people in the building, which meant she had more than enough time to sort through her boxes before any of the actual team turned up for the first time.

Apparently they’d had a few issues with people getting in that weren’t the most savoury of characters. So she was moved up as an extra layer of protection before the public were allowed into the bullpen. But being on the same floor as profilers wasn’t going to stop her from decorating as she always had.

Besides, she didn’t have to share this desk with anyone, so she got the entire space to decorate herself.

Putting her box of biscuits, made and decorated the night before, on the top of the desk, she got to work. Getting into her own little world as she sorted out the boring bits first. Putting away important files she always needed to have on hand, and setting up the monitor to make sure all the information worked to let people in.

Eventually, thankfully, she got to the more fun aspects of her unpacking.

A lilac notebook, a collection of glittery pens (that, sadly, still had to be black ink), a sweet bowl since she knows how many agents have kids, and a plush lilac blanket over the back of her chair. She runs cold, and will have that over her lap if she starts to freeze.

Just as she started to unload her pretty, pastel post-it notes, there was a voice from beyond the desk.

“Are these for us?”

She shot up, hand going to her chest, thankfully also somewhat startling the man in front of her desk. At least she recognised him, SSA Aaron Hotchner, she’d been the one to sign him in most days when she worked downstairs.

Giving him a small smile as she leant over to pop the lid, the smell of shortbread biscuits immediately hitting the area and making them both hungry.

“Of course, sir, and since you’re the first here, you can have two.”

Her original shock lessened as she smiled up at the man, who did immediately take two biscuits for himself. He’d never say no to her baking again - it had made her upset and she hadn’t spoken to him for three days.

“You don’t need to call me sir, not now we work together. It’s good to have you on the floor.”

“It’s good to be here.” Smiling nervously as she shifted into her chair, the clock telling her that more people were going to start coming in soon. “I can only deal with Maria’s constant bad date stories before I go mad.”

There was that small smile on his face, one she’d seen very few times, but still made her all warm and gooey whenever she did. Brushing her hair back behind her ear and glancing away to boot up the monitor for the morning.

Looking back at him one last time, just to catch him sneaking a sweet from the pot, not even stopping when she caught him. Shoving it into his pocket and stepping away a little.

“I’ll stop by later on, make sure you’re settled.”

He nodded, as if he’d do that for anyone else, and she smiled. God. He could drown in her smile.

But as he went to walk off, she waved a hand for his attention, neither of them noticing Spencer coming through the elevator doors, freezing at seeing the interaction between them. Not sure what to make of the smile on his Unit Chief's face.

“I’ll save a biscuit, so you can take one home to Jack. I’ll sign you in, go on, you workaholic.”

Accepting and returning his little wave until she turned back to her desk with a stupidly daft smile on her face. Which she didn’t even try to dampen when she spotted Spencer, beckoning him forward.

“Morning Doctor, have a biscuit, I’ll sign you in.”

Want more?! Good!

[ellecdc]

Hi 🥺I’m thinking either

“yes the both of you look adorable, but can i please have my clothes back now?”

Or the “do any of the clothes you’re wearing belong to you?”

Or a little combo with rosekiller x reader 🖤

YES

poly!rosekiller x fem!reader who has plenty of clothes of her own [486 words]

CW: somewhat smutty implication at the end but fades to black, fluffffffffff

“Treasure,” Evan could hear Barty start in what he knew to be his ‘I’m pretending to be chiding but actually find all of this rather funny’ voice, “if this is your way of telling us you need more clothes, we're more than happy to buy you more clothes.”

“I don’t need more clothes!” You laughed in response as Evan made his way down the hallway with his morning cup of coffee to see what the two of you were going on about. 

“Well it looks like you had a pretty hard time finding anything of your own to wear today; forgive me for being worried we weren’t spoiling you enough.” 

Evan rounded the corner into the living room to see you lounging on the sofa; one leg tucked under you and the other bent at the knee that your hand was resting on whilst Barty hovered above you with a faux berating look on his face. 

“What’s going on in here?” Evan asked as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head from behind the couch before making his way around it and settling in the space beside you. 

“What’s going on,” Barty started theatrically, causing you to snort - the sound made the very corner of Barty’s lips rise in the ghost of a smirk before he schooled his expression, “is that our darling angel clearly does not have enough of her own things.”

“Is that true, poppet?” Evan asked you as he played into Barty’s little skit. “Do we not spoil you enough?”

“You spoil me fine.” You groaned, laughing when both boys scoffed in offence. “You spoil me plenty - too much!” 

“Then what is the issue?” Evan asked then.

“Look at her!” Barty shouted, gesturing wildly at you with both hands. “Look at her outfit!” 

Evan shifted his weight onto his one hip and turned his body towards you, his arm thrown over the back of the sofa as he scrutinised your form; a surprised laugh bubbling out of him when he realised what Barty’s ‘problem’ was. 

“Poppet,” Evan laughed, “do any of the clothes you’re wearing actually belong to you?” 

Sure enough, you were wearing a pair of Barty’s joggers, his favourite band tee, and one of Evan’s zip up jumpers with the arms folded over an absurd number of times. 

You blinked slightly owlishly at him, answering after a beat of silence. “The knickers are mine.” 

“That’s too many articles of your own clothing, Treasure!” Barty let out with a loud laugh, clearly over pretending to be miffed at the pilfering of his wardrobe. “I’ll have to buy some of my own knickers for you.”

“If it helps, I’m pretty sure you bought these knickers too.” You offered him solemnly, and Evan watched a salacious expression take over Barty’s face he knew was mirrored on his own.

“Is that so?” Evan drawled. “Perhaps you ought to show us, just to confirm.”

[revelboo]

Sending you the blokees update, in a fascinating twist somehow starscream beat the order of Megatron and shockwave??? My dude what foul play did this boy pull to manipulate the mail deliveries?

(He stole a crown too it seems)

Murder, most likely

True Romance Pt 13

Seeker Trine x Reader

• Stretching your arms over your head, you watch Thundercracker fussing with your blankets. That tension you’d felt that afternoon outside is still pulling at you. Feeling it in the way Thundercracker glances at you and catches your eye, feeling like there’s something unsaid right there. And then his wings flick and he resumes adding pillows and blankets to what’s essentially a nest on the edge of Star’s berth. Though, you never sleep there anymore. Every night, they alternate and you sleep sprawled on one of them, a massive hand draped against you so you don’t roll off in your sleep.

• Wings flaring slightly knowing you’re watching him, he keeps adjusting your nest. Perfecting it so you have a soft spot to rest when they’re out on patrol. And preening for you as silly as it is. Liking that you’re looking at him, wanting to pick you up and run his servos over you. Reaching, he gently hooks a servo around you and tugs you to the nest. Bracing a hand on the berth as he lifts you and carefully drops you in the middle to make you suck in a sharp breath in surprise and startling a laugh out of you. Leaning over you as you smile up at him, sprawled in the space he’s made for you, he wants to brush his mouth against you. To mass displace and pin you under him. Maybe just hold you. Instead he runs a servo over your hair. “This good?”

• “It’s great. Thank you,” you say and Skywarp glances over, frowning as Thundercracker leans over you, big frame blocking you from view. Realizing he’s jealous of his brother. That he wants to be the one providing for you and it’s crazy, but he wants it. Sliding off his berth, he shoulders up against Thundercracker, feeling his brother stiffen as he brushes his wings with his own. Leaning his arms on the berth, he grins down at you. Thinking he likes the way you look like that, hair spread out around your head, limbs spread out. “Hi?” You whisper and he lowers his chin into your nest, nearly touching you. Aware of Thundercracker growling softly beside him.

• Now they’re both looming over you, their shadows falling across you as those red optics stare at you. Making you strangely self conscious as you try to sit up and Skywarp drapes a servo over you to pin you flat on your back. There’s something almost predatory in his expression when Skywarp grins at you and Thundercracker rumbles. Knowing he’s just picking at you like he always does to irritate you and Thundercracker both. “You belong to us, don’t you? To our Trine,” he says, and he’s grinning like he’s teasing, but there’s an edge to the words. A hunger that makes you squirm under his servo. “You’re ours. We take good care of you, don’t we?”

• “Stop it,” Thundercracker growls, grabbing his brother’s wrist. Even if those low, possessive words ring through him and spread warm in his spark. Because you are theirs and they’re yours. Something he’s been sure of for some time now, but afraid to voice. Not wanting to be shut down by you or his brothers. But watching your movies, seeing those love stories? He wants that so much it hurts. Wants a soft, warm mate who’ll be happy to see him, who’ll reach for him and welcome him into your arms. “He’s not trying to scare you,” he reassures you, getting lost in those eyes looking up at him. “You just- we care for you.” Hating those words and how inaccurate they are.

• Why does that dark, hungry claim of Skywarp’s make your skin prickle all over? It’s all possessive, but not the way you want it to be. That thought shocking through you, realizing you do want that. When had that happened? When had you started thinking of them as yours? Your Trine. Even if it’s only going to hurt you in the end. Lips parting as Thundercracker glares at Skywarp, his knuckles brushing your leg and Skywarp’s servo still splayed against you to keep you from moving. “I know you do,” you say, reaching to touch them both. And you care about them, even though you know they see you as some sort of exotic pet to pamper and spoil, not a person. Certainly not an equal. Knowing that you can never be more than that. Their pet.

Previous

Next

I'm a screw up of epic proportions

A walking hand grenade

Hyper-manic, a dime store dramatic

A conduit for pain

She said, "Don't speak, don't think

Just take it off, take it off"

I said, "Don't speak, don't blink

Just mess me up, mess me up"

Humming a slightly varied tune

Opposite angles of the moon

Buried in layers of ourselves

Leaves room for no one else

I believe it's true

Cause nothing matters when I'm all wrapped up in you

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 1

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Summary: The Atreides daughter is sent off to Giedi Prime to marry the Harkonnen heir in an attempt to quell the feuding Great Houses. The bride, however, must prove her grit and earn the respect of her new family if she is to survive her new life. Perhaps she will find that she had more Harkonnen in her than she thought.

TW: none (for now)

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (just not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, cannon what cannon

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Please bear with me, it has been ages since I've written anything and this is my first ever work of fanfiction. I've never written in the second person before so if you catch any mistakes, especially in verb tenses, please let me know. English is not my first language. Also, this might start out a bit slow but I promise things will pick up soon.

The smell of grass and the crashing waves of Caladan brought you comfort as you stood before the starship that had been rented from the Spacing Guild.

Your brother had insisted on accompanying you to Giedi Prime, but a round trip would have been unnecessarily expensive, even with the vast wealth of your Great House. Besides, it would be foolish to deliver the heir of House Atreides to the home world of their sworn enemies. It was bad enough they had to send you there.

"Give them hell," Paul teased as he hugged you goodbye.

You laughed, but you knew his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He had faith in your strength and ferocity, but he had much less faith in the hospitality of the Harkonnens.

"I'll miss you," you pull away and try to give him a reassuring smile but you, yourself, are not so certain of your fate.

You made your way to your mother, next in line to bid you farewell.

"Remember your training." Lady Jessica held your face and planted a tender kiss on your forehead. She had already given you all the advice she could.

You take her hands in yours and kiss them. "I will," you tell her solemnly.

You finally make it to your father, whose eyes are already welling with tears.

"My darling princess," his voice cracks as he lays a hand on your cheek. The Duke may seem a stoic man to most, but those who truly knew him knew he had a big heart.

Perhaps it is because you are one of those people that you finally feel that weight in your chest that you've been dreading since the signing of your marriage pact. It will be a truly long time before you would see your family again. If you could ever see them at all.

The Duke waves at an attendant who approaches with a silver tray. Leto takes the dagger resting on it and places it in your hands. "To remind you that you will always be an Atreides, that you will always be my daughter."

You let your tears fall as you hold the gift close to your chest.

"Don't cry now," your father pulls you into a hug, hoping to hide his own tears, "or I might never let you go."

You let a laugh slip through the sobs. You knew it was already decided and it is your duty to fulfill. The Sisterhood and the Emperor himself endorsed the match. Nothing could change it now.

The harsh light of Giedi Prime's black sun assaulted your eyes as you made your way down the starship's gangplank. The stark, high-contrast black and white made everything a pain to look at. You were thankful for the veils of your travelling gowns for providing you at least some shade.

You were greeted by House Harkonnen's steward, Jaromir Naggul, and swiftly led into the imposing, Brutalist fortress of their stronghold. You were almost happy to escape the infrared outside.

"Your belongings are being sent to your new quarters as we speak," Jaromir, a lanky but stately man, informs you. "You may change out of your traveling clothes and rest there. The Baron will receive you in the throne room in the afternoon."

You note his accent and the mild contempt in his voice, as if you were an inconvenience.

"This is Iassa," he gestures to one of the servants that had been following you through the halls. "She is your assigned slave. Should you need anything, you may tell her."

The word almost knocks the breath out of you.

You eyes turn to Iassa in her pale gray robes and you give her a polite nod. She hastily curtsies in return.

You knew the Harkonnens and even the Emperor kept slaves, but you suppose it never occurred to you that you would be charged with one yourself.

"Of course," Jaromir continues, "any of the servants in the fortress will be at your command, but Iassa will be in waiting for you in particular."

"Of course," you reply coldly.

"You will be staying in the guest wing for now," Jaromir says as he shows you the door to your quarters. "Of course, until your wedding. When you will then be moved to the na-Baron's apartments."

"...of course," you repeat, grateful again for your veils that they hide your dread.

You are silent as Iassa helps you into a black gown for your audience with the baron. It is the fashionable color in the Harkonnen home world. Although there were many other 'fashionable' traits on Giedi Prime, this was the only one you felt comfortable adopting right now. The complete lack of hair in every individual you had seen was certainly unsettling, but you sensed it would be rude to speak about it.

"What is the na-Baron like?" you ask.

Iassa pauses her fastening of your dress, she swallows. "He is a fearsome warrior, my lady," she keeps her gaze averted, "handsome and popular with the people."

Her voice was shaky but she seemed genuine. You only wonder if those words hold the same implications here as they do back home.

You look over to Iassa as she fetches your shoes. It's not difficult to see that she fears you. You cannot help but feel that that is all there is. You are still an off-worlder. An Atreides no less. She harbors no respect for you.

You take care to style your hair in the fashions of Caladan, fastening a falcon-like pin at the back of your head. The symbol of your house. Perhaps it is a risky choice, to be seen as defiant by the baron should he notice, but you could already feel the black sun beginning to drain the life out of you. The thrill of quiet defiance would have to sustain you for now.

Jaromir returns in time to fetch you and you are led to the throne room.

The baron's grotesque floating body looms over you and his subjects. You had never met any of the Harkonnens before but you were sure that was him.

"Welcome to your new home, Lady Atreides," the Baron utters your last name with thinly veiled loathing. "Let me present my nephew, Feyd-Rautha."

A tall muscular young man steps forward. Stately and regal as a Harkonnen could be, he looks over you with condescending eyes.

He certainly looked like a warrior, and you could see how the people of Giedi Prime could find him handsome, but you find yourself wanting to spit in his face.

"Forgive me for not greeting you when you landed, my lady," the na-Baron bows to you. His gravelly voice sends a chill down your spine, "I was preoccupied at the time. I trust you have settled well?"

You curtsy in turn, "I'm sure my lord had important duties to attend to. I am grateful for your hospitality. My rooms are very comfortable."

"Do not find them too comfortable young lady," the Baron calls from afloat his chair, "your wedding celebrations are to begin and you will be sharing rooms with my nephew before long."

Feyd-Rautha smirks at this and you are almost willing to cast decorum aside to slap it off his face.

"Tomorrow, your groom will take part in the arena to demonstrate his prowess as a worthy husband and leader, as per the traditions of our house," the Baron announces. "I'm sure you will make a point to attend."

"I would not miss it, dear Baron."

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

[stargirl-writes]

perfect christmas

masterlist.

summary : assembling a christmas tree with anakin.

tags : fluff. romance. no warnings apply.

notes : domestic fluff word vomit, my fave szn is here :>

"It's never going to fit," You yell over the howling winds sweeping the freshly fallen snow over your face.

Anakin shrugs, turning his head lazily. "What, don't want it?"

You survey the tree he was aiming for. The tree was massive, towering over the rest with thick branches and leaves full, grandiose.

"It's perfect!" He set out with a ridiculous amount of confidence. After searching for hours, and traveling the galaxy, because of course, it had to be just right, he'd pick the one that looks like it could belong in the Jedi Temple's grand hall.

"No—"

"I told you, it would be perfect." Anakin bursts through the door, cheeks pink from having carried the behemoth of a tree from the ship all the way back home.

You cross your arms, surveying how the tree takes up most of the space, jammed halfway through the living room with a loud thud. "Sure."

Anakin, ever determined, tries to set the tree to stand. The weight of it should've made him relent to the impossibility. You bite back a laugh as the tree wobbles. He tries to use the force to make it stand upward. The tree lifts from the ground, a few branches split and crack.

"We should trim it first," You suggested, "It's going to crack open our ceiling!"

He shakes his head, gaze focused on getting the tree upright. He grunts to himself to hold the tree.

"Anakin," You call out, watching the top of the tree bend as it scrapes over the ceilings.

"Almost there,"

He force-shoves the tree, more branches cracking until finally it wedges into place. You step backward, avoiding the falling leaves and branches. The top smashed against the ceiling, bending awkwardly. You stood in awe, perhaps shock.

He walks towards you with a triumphant smile, leaning down to plant a kiss on your cheek. "Perfect,"

Night soon came by, the landscape quiets with snow falling from the window in the cabin. A fire was running by the middle of the room, and the twinkling of the lights by the tree illuminated the space. Getting the lights to wrap around the entirety of the tree was a challenge of its own, now as you both sat on the floor, you both realize that you don't have enough decorations to hang on the tree.

"I can run to the shop," Anakin stands up, refusing to admit defeat in perfecting this tree.

"Its too late in the night," You said gently, recognizing the will he has to make it a perfect christmas. "Besides," You stood up, taking the small holoprojector sitting by the table, it was old, but it could be repurposed to project holiday themed holographic snowflakes. "We have all we need here," You suggested.

Anakin, being a tinkerer, probably has spare parts lying around from fixing ships or droids. His head dips, considering the idea. "C'mon," you coaxed.

He started assembling his trinkets. You found some pictures you kept and hung them by the tree. He steps behind you, chest pressing against your back. "Didn't know you kept hardcopies of these," He runs his hand over the pictures.

In a universe where everything can be projected in a click, the idea of a feeling, a moment, captured in a photo is something you placed value on. Nothing in life is ever permanent, everything is changing. Often times, life has a way to smother you to believing that there's too much cruelty and violence, a piece of to look back in a moment frozen felt like a warm reminder that once, you have been there, happy and content.

You chuckle. "I like that its frozen in time."

He leans down, resting his chin by your shoulder as his arms reach over the branches, coiling a golden spring around the branches, as a make-shift tinsel. Soft music echoed through the room. You let yourself breathe, leaning against his embrace.

You can almost see this scene painting in your head, a quiet christmas evening, held by the love of your life. You can look for love like this scattered across the universe, but nothing could compare. Nothing will compare.

Soon, the tree was covered with engine parts or ship panels that hung as quirky ornaments, bolts and small gears strung together to make shiny chains, and photographs of the life you shared with Anakin.

"It's missing something," His eyes drew into slits as he scans the tree over.

"A star." you answer. The ornament lied on the floor and you went to pick it up.

"Alright, go top it off,"

Anakin's fingers wrapped around your waist, and you let out a squeal as he lifts you up to his shoulders. You held on to his arm, giggling in surprise.

The star felt like the glue that made everything tie together in the end. He sets you down gently, hand still wrapped around your waist. The fire crackled in the background, casting a warm glow over the tree's odd but charming decorations.

For a moment, you caught him admiring the tree, an odd combination of improvised, chaotic, sentimental decorations. But it was yours.

"I know it's not perfect," He speaks in a hushed voice. "I just wanted to give you something special. Something I never had."

You let out a small laugh, finding his over-the-top eagerness and effort endearing. This was the first proper christmas he had— family, warmth, belonging. Just him getting caught up in the joy of it all was the best present you could've asked for.

You smile softly, gaze lingering on the tree. His eyes locked on yours, a sort of relief washing over them.

"You did, Anakin. This is perfect." You soften, pressing your cheeks against his chest. You both stayed there for a while, until the soft christmas music makes you swing side by side.

There was a sense of longing that settles on your chest. Sometimes, you feel as though you're already missing something as you're experiencing it. Like you are already scrolling through the happiest moments of your life and miserable that you've already known what it is like to be so happy, so full of life, that there's nothing left to experience. But isn't that what makes the present a lot more beautiful? perhaps. All you know is that right now, in this moment, your life is colored with the warm lights of the fire, the christmas tree, and Anakin's embrace.

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

06 — PULL A TRIGGER, CLIMB A MOUNTAIN

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad.

<- previous part | next part ->

Graves watches you, a sleazy smirk on his face as he sits in the helicopter, blood dripping from his forehead and empty rifle in hand.

With a wink, he chimes in through your channel, “See you when you’re useful again, baby.”

*

Three hours earlier.

*

“Change.”

Looking up, you give the hulking man the most annoyed expression you can muster, cocking your hip and folding your arms over your chest. He, in response, only raises a brow and folds his own arms, a clear mocking of your own stance.

Everyone else is already in the other room, checking over weaponry and making plans. They’re loud enough to be heard here, jovial laughter and quickly-spoken Spanish filtering in. A song plays, too, a nice kind of melody that you find yourself enjoying.

“I usually need a shot or two first,” you snark, making no move to take the folded clothes from the balaclava-clad man. “You buying?”

As he shoves the uniform into your chest, you shoot Ghost a nasty glare.

“We have stuff we need to do without you,” he quips, pushing against your shoulder hard enough to have you taking a step back. “That uniform’s too recognisable.”

“What, the American flag’s too much for you?” You lean in once more, shoving your own hand against his chest. He doesn’t budge. “I deserve to be involved, when I’m giving you intel. This whole exclusion bullshit reminds me of kindergarten.”

“Then change, and stop acting like you belong in one,” Ghost snaps, and with one final look your way, storms out of the main room, slamming the wooden sliding doors shut behind him as he does.

You’re alone, now. 

The room is vast, and at the small table still sits the laptop.

You’d… just. Done that. Threatened the very man who had taught you everything you know, the very man who had practically adopted you after your mother’s death. The very man of whom you’d just sentenced to death by your own hand. Your own lit match.

“Fuck,” you hiss, burying your face in your free hand.

This was the first time you’d had true solitude since. Well. It might’ve only been a day, but everything that’s happened has made it feel like years. Your throat itches from the knife wound, and you can feel your ribs’ bruising when you inhale.

“Fuck,” you curse once more, looking to the sliding doors.

After the call with Shepherd, the four men had been… well, they’d all had a very individualised response.

Soap had brought you in with an arm around your neck, ranting about how ‘badass’ you had been. Gaz had joined in, ruffling up your hair, placing a hand on your shoulder and asking if you were okay.

You’d said yes.

It had been a lie.

Ghost, without a word, had left to check over his magazines. Price had given you a firm nod and a pat on your back before, he too, left to the other room to sort things out.

“Lucky yer on our side, hen,” Soap had joked goodnaturedly. Gaz had rolled his eyes, saying, “You’re just happy your little Sweetheart can take you in a fight.”

Soap had immediately tackled him to the ground, and that was that.

Now, you stood, lone in the vast space of the room. It was still very early morning, the quiet sound of birds outside mixing with the rambunctiousness of the Los Vaqueros on the other side of the doors. Soft light filters in through the boarded up windows, casting over you in an odd haze.

Dropping the uniform onto the table, your brows furrow when you notice not only the 141’s standard uniform, but also a balaclava not unlike Ghost’s own.

The fabric is oddly soft as you run your hand over it, the paint cracking slightly against the nylon. Putting it aside for now, you then look over the uniform. A black long-sleeve compression shirt, baggy beige cargo pants. They’re definitely a bit too big for you, but admittedly, Ghost was right. It’d be too easy to spot you on the field if you were in Graves’ uniform.

Looking around the room, as if to cement the fact that you were alone, you quickly change, swapping out your bloody uniform for the new one.

It’s when you’re about to pull on the shirt that you look down, seeing the bruises lining your stomach. From the fight with Soap, or from one of your confrontations with the Shadows, you aren’t sure. Pressing softly against one, you can’t help a small grunt at the burst of pain.

You pull the compression shirt over your head, the fabric tight against your skin. How he’d had your size for the shirt and not the pants, you weren’t sure, but you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Pulling over the new vest, you transfer all of your old items into it, finding this design much nicer. Not as constricting against your breasts, designed more unisex than Graves’ had been.

Grabbing the balaclava, your feet carry you to the sliding doors, and you open them with little struggle. 

You nearly stumble when you find all of the men within pulling on their own masks, stopping in your tracks at the sight. Ghost and Price’s backs are to you, and when you see Ghost pulling on one of the same masks, everything clicks.

He hadn’t wanted you to see his face – had used getting changed as a distraction.

And yet, here were the Los Vaqueros, some of which had never even spoken to Ghost, having the privilege. It shouldn’t make you angry, you shouldn’t care, but you can’t help the onslaught of rejection that floods your system.

When you step forward, into their line of sight, you straighten your spine and take out your gun from its holster, reloading it in precise movements, not looking down at it once. When the magazine clicks into place, you narrow your gaze on Ghost.

“Are we getting this done or having a fashion show?”

*

“That’s cold,” you murmur, eyes squeezed shut as war-torn fingers swipe grease paint around your eyes, careful in their placement. You sway when the vehicle drives over a pothole, but the fingers continue their ministrations without pause.

Price chuckles softly, wiping his thumb underneath your eye. “Used to do this for Ghost every other day,” he says under his breath, collecting more paint from the pot and continuing to spread it across the upper half of your face.

You’re in the back of a van with both Price and Gaz, Alejandro behind the wheel as you head back to his colonised base.

“You look like one of us now,” Gaz chimes, to your right. Watching you both carefully, his own paint already done, he leans back into his seat. “Uniform, mask… we’ve corrupted you, love.”

You roll your eyes beneath your eyelids. “Good luck with that.”

“Don’t test me,” he laughs, at the same time that Price pulls away once more, looking you over, before deciding that more paint will be needed.

“Feel like a kid at a fair,” you muse, earning a soft chuckle from Price. “Do I get glitter too?”

“Maybe if you’re a good girl,” Price jokes softly, and you let out a laugh of your own. Internally, you register your cheeks heating at the comment, a part of you yearning for such praise from the man. If it didn’t mess up your paint or cause the two to give you weird looks, you’d slap yourself.

“Can’t believe you’re Graves’ Colonel,” Gaz admonishes, and you barely restrain a huff of annoyance. He corrects himself. “Were. Man, he did not deserve you in his ranks. You probably would’ve done better as Commander than he ever could.”

You let your lips curve into a somewhat appreciative smile, eyes still shut as Price continues his studious work. “Believe it or not, we all loved him. Behind the scenes, he treated us pretty well. The guys, anyway.”

You can’t see it, but Gaz and Price share a knowing look, both of them raising their brows. Your eyes remain shut throughout their small, silent exchange.

“How so?” Price asks, gruff, and the tone encourages you to tell the truth.

“Well,” you swallow, unsure of how to approach the issue. You never have, never felt a reason to. “Just. Small things. Jokes, and stuff. I’m the only woman in the Company, actually–”

“What?” Gaz blurts out, not seeming able to stop himself. “You’re serious?”

You let out a somewhat self-deprecating chuckle. “...Yeah? That’s pretty normal in military jobs, y’know. Didn’t think it was that weird. At least I’m a Colonel.”

“You don’t think that’s… weird?” Price asks, and it’s only then that you realise he’s stopped painting your face. You blink open your eyes. “The only woman in his Company, and she’s his Colonel?”

Chewing on your inner cheek, you shake your head. “I was one of the very first to be hired by him. We… He was my partner. In nearly every sense of the word,” you admit, a small truth. “I mean. I don’t think that I loved him. Just. Never really had anyone else.”

“How old were you when you joined Shadow Co?” Gaz asks, slowly, carefully.

You mull it over, before supplying an easy answer. “Eighteen, or so. He was twenty-seven when he started, and –”

“That’s so fucked,” Gaz curses, burying his face in his hands. “Seriously. He’s a fucking asshole.”

You’re desperate for a change of topic, anything else but this. Not now, not when your wounds are too fresh, not when you’re about to come face to face with him again. With a deep breath, you divert the situation.

“Am I done?” You ask, looking to the window and trying to catch your reflection to no avail.

“...Yeah,” Price breathes, “You’re done.”

Easing back into your spot, you find your leg bouncing once more, the adrenaline of the upcoming mission keeping you antsy and energetic. You haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours, but you somehow find yourself more awake now than you had been hours ago.

Resting his hand on your knee, Gaz gives you a reassuring smile. “You ready?”

Letting out a low, unsure exhale, you find yourself nodding. “Yeah. I think so. I know what I’m going to say to him. I’m. He’ll come around.”

Gripping your mask in your hand, you move to pull it over your head, the fabric snugly fitting around your skin. It’s an odd sort of comfort, a way of protecting yourself from the emotional wreck that this mission will create. For the first time, you think that you can understand the attachment Ghost has to it.

“If we kill ‘im,” Price starts, but when you instantly flick your gaze to him, starts to backtrack, “If. If it comes down to it. You can’t hold it against us.”

You just check over your ammo, your cartridges, before simply replying.

“I’ll kill him myself.”

“We won’t make you do that,” Gaz says, adamant and firm as he leans in closer to you. “You don’t have to kill ‘im. I know most of us are wanting to do the honours, anyway.”

“I know Soap and Alejandro are just about begging to,” you acquiesce, but you find yourself focusing on the gun in your hands to reset your mindscape anyways. “But. It’s different. If he’s really done all of this… I want closure.”

“You’ll get your closure. Bloodshed or not,” Price pats your back, and you give him a small tilt of your lips, before realising that your mask covers the movement.

“You still good to split with Price and meet with the other team from the helo, hermana?” Alejandro calls from the front, turning slightly to look to you. You give him a thumbs up, and even with his mask on, you can tell he’s wearing a toothy smile.

“Your gun all good?” Gaz asks, jerking his head to the weapon. “Ammo in your pockets, cartridge full?”

Pulling your free hand into a gun gesture, you smile. 

“Pew.”

*

It’s with the weight of the world on your shoulders that you watch Price’s helicopter get shot.

“We’re hit! We’re hit!” Price calls through your shared radio channel, his voice frantic enough to have you skidding to a stop. Distantly, you think you can hear Ghost say something, but it’s quickly shadowed by Price’s, “Going down. We’re going down!”

You’re about a hundred feet away from where Rodolfo and Soap stand, the two also seeming to pause behind a warehouse of some sort.

When you see Soap move to push Rodolfo up the wall, you run as fast as your legs will take you to their position, calling out to them, “I’m coming with!”

“Thought you weren’t making it, cariño!” Rodolfo calls out as you fall alongside them, your heartbeat raging in your ears. 

“Can’t get rid of me that easy,” you jest, then pause when you see Ghost to your side. Jerking your head to the wall, you ask, “Need a personal invitation?”

“Price and the pilot need help. You three finish this,” he shakes his head, before turning and leaving for the crash site. Shrugging, you spin back to where Rodolfo’s extending his hand to help you up, which you accept, reaching the top of the wall and swinging your right thigh over it, straddling the brick.

Extending your arm down, you pull Rodolfo up, Soap taking his other hand in a firm grip. When Rodolfo swings around to sit between you both, he curses under his breath. 

“Look!” Soap hisses, and when you do as he says, your own stomach falls down to the dirt floor beneath you.

“That’s not ours,” Rodolfo murmurs, and you can barely find your voice.

“A tank,” you say, mindlessly, watching on as a fucking tank pulls into the training area of the compound. “Graves… he has a fucking tank?”

Neither of the two respond, both instead jumping off of the wall, falling into a crouch as they land. They both extend hands to you, more of a supporting gesture than anything, but you don’t take them as you too land on the other side of the brick, entering the training area.

“Ye ready for this?” Soap asks the two of you, a hint of mania creeping onto his blood-flecked face.

“Hell yeah,” Rodolfo breathes, before looking to you with a friendly smile. Ruffling your hair, a familiar gesture, now, he squeezes the nape of your neck. “If you come out of this alive, hermana, we could use you in the Los Vaqueros.”

You bark a laugh, stunned, almost, before shaking your head. “You should talk to your boss about recruiting people, first.”

Rodolfo shrugs. “Ale likes to make me happy.”

“Interviews can happen later, aye?” Soap chuckles, and the three of you look to the tank once more. “Bigger fish to catch, and allat.”

You go to say something else, when –

“Didn’t realise you boys were into kidnapping women now. That’s a bit sketchy, ain’t it?”

Graves. He’s – he’s got a radio, he’s talking, he’s here, he’s. He’s fucking with you, trying to play mind games, trying to break you all over –

“Can’t wait to bake this bastard,” Soap grunts, and you find your footing once more. Sure, you were ready for battle, but your entire reason for being here was to talk to him. Get him to realise his mistakes, come forward, go back to the man you knew.

Rodolfo and Soap are running somewhere, doing their part, and you –

“Is what they said true?” It’s the most important question you have right now. The answer you yearn for.

A moment passes.

“Where did you go, gorgeous? When’d they get ya? Did they blackmail you in Las Almas?” He diverts, and you tighten your grip on your gun, swallowing your litany of curses.

“Answer my questions, Commander. Is. What they said. True.”

“It doesn’t matter, baby. Remember where your loyalties lie,” Graves takes on a sweeter tone, a more… condescending one, you think. 

“Please,” you find yourself whispering, begging for him to just. Break this nightmare, rebel against it, be Phillip. “Please tell me this isn’t really you.”

“Oveja pequeña,” he coos, and you swear your spine erupts in hives, “I’m still your Phillip. You’re the one who’s changed – look at you, running off with the 141. I’m disappointed.”

You erupt, then, like a dormant volcano, finally gathering the final push to let lava reign free.

“I’m going to fucking kill you! You just killed fathers, tore apart families! I fucking hate you!” You yell into the radios, no tears falling, merely anger and vengeance clouding your vision.

“Don’t forget that you are under my orders. Whether you’re in my bed or not, you’re my Colonel,” he seethes back, and like a shot while you’re already down, you realise that this is a hopeless cause. You weren’t going to save Shepherd. You weren’t going to save Graves.

All you had left to save was yourself.

They’d lied to you, an indefinite amount of times, for how long, you weren’t sure. Your whole relationship – was that a lie, too? Was your entire life?

“I’m your second in command,” you finally admit out loud, hiding behind a crumbling wall as the tank shoots just a few feet away from you. “So when you get taken down, guess who comes out on top?”

“Listen to yourself!” He shouts, his voice cracking in his sudden anger, “Listen–”

“No, you listen!” You find yourself crying out, taking a few shots at the tank, allowing Soap and Rudy to do their part. “Listen to me, Phillip. You’re going to regret this – all of this. When were you going to tell me you were under Shepherd’s orders, huh? How long have you been fucking me over!”

“Whenever you first came around my cock is my guess, baby,” he responds, icy and cold.

His words only seem to further encourage you to breaking point, adding more and more fury to rush down your veins like its very own hit of morphine.

“Guess what, Commander?”

“Don’t bull–”

“That first time, and every time since?”

He doesn’t bother to interrupt you.

“I faked it.”

With that, you switch Channels to one shared with all of you.

You had heard everything you needed to, and along with it, realised something of vital importance. A small inconsistency that changed everything.

“Ghost team,” you say, neutral and unforgiving, “Graves isn’t in the tank.”

“What’re ye talking about?!” Soap calls through, exuding exhaustion, the sound of explosions crackling through behind his vocals. “He has to be–”

“He’s not,” you say, firm, absolute in your decision. “I don’t know where he is – but he’s not in there. Not his style, anyway – prefers to be in the spotlight.”

“What do we do then, hermana?” Rodolfo asks, sounds strained just as Soap had.

Your answer is easy. “You guys focus on the tank – I’m taking Graves down.”

With that, you run for the wall once more, and with nothing but your intuition, you know exactly where you’ll find your ex-Commander.

*

As per usual when it comes to your gut-feelings, you’re correct. 

It’s within the hanger on the compound that you find him getting into a helicopter – a wound on his forehead and tactical glasses on. Somehow, he’s already found himself injured – a small, selfish part of you satisfied with that information.

“Commander!” You yell as you break through the small window of the hangar, using the butt of your gun to do it. It’s as the door to the heli shuts that he notices you – and you switch back on to his radio.

“This is your last chance,” he grits out, his voice thin and furious. “Before this becomes more than a… domestic fight.”

You wince as the blades start turning, taking shelter behind one of the cargo boxes, wary of any bullets being shot your way. “The only domestic thing about us was your inclination for treating me like your little wife.”

“Always did think you’d look pretty barefoot and pregnant,” he muses, and oh, have you never wanted to kill a man more in your life.

“Aww,” you mock, as the blades’ whirring gets louder and shots echo around you finally, “See, I think you’d look pretty bleeding out at my feet.”

“You did look rather good at mine,” he retorts, and your emotions get the better of you as you peek, shooting three Shadows behind the heli with easy headshots. You’re barely there for two seconds before a burning pain echoes through the side of your shoulder, and you duck down once more.

“Couldn’t even get off,” you pant, relentless to the very end even as your breaths turn into heavy falls of your shoulders, “Was like fucking a Ken doll.”

“You’ve always been a petty bitch,” he snaps, and you smirk.

“I am a bitch, you’re right. And you know what bitches do when someone taunts them? They bite.”

You raise your gun, and for a scary, short second, you realise that blood is flowing in a stream that’s causing the sleeve of your black shirt to grow sticky and damp. Now isn’t the time to care, however, as you take aim at one of the windows of the heli.

Pulling the trigger, the bullet bursts through the window, glass shattering and falling to the ground. It’s as soon as it does, however, that it takes flight, boosting in its acceleration immediately.

Fully peeking, this time, you watch as the helicopter quickly takes off, and even if you had the capacity to shoot at it, it wouldn’t hit the intended target, not with your trembling hands.

Graves watches you, a sleazy smirk on his face as he sits in the helicopter, blood dripping from his forehead and empty rifle in hand.

With a wink, he chimes in through your channel, “See you when you’re useful again, baby.”

You get one final sentence in, before the radio cuts off. Even though you can’t see him from this distance, you’re sure you’re making eye contact as you deal your final blow.

“My callsign isn’t baby. It’s Sweetheart.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re @oreo-cream @lalashhyl @someonepleasedateme @letmeapologise @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @inarabee

author's note. to everyone asking about the covid, its prettyyy bad haha. i can hardly leave my bed and need 3 blankets in the peak of summer!

at least that means i have downtime to write before my life gets VERY hectic. thank you all for your support again, the feedback and praise for the last chapter made me feel 10x better and i genuinely appreciate you all SO much. thank you thank you thank you!

[milaisreading]

hallo!! I really like your writing😆😆

Bisakah kamu membuat reaksi karakter kunci biru jika mereka tahu bahwa CD!yn adalah perempuan? (termasuk dunia 5, BM, Ubers, PXG, JFA, dan dunia.)

Sorry, my english is bad (english is not my first language)😓😓

🌱🩷: So I used Google translate bcs the middle part was written in Indonesian. And as far as I understood, you want me to write how the teams, World 5, and the world might react to Crossdresser!yn being a girl. I hope this was translated correctly. Sure, no problem! Hope u like this🫶🏻

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

Manshine City:

Chris: So, you are a girl?

CD!Yn: Yep!

Chris: Aha... *looks at Nagi, Reo, and Chigiri*

Chigiri, blushing as he avoided eye-contact with YN: WE DIDN'T KNOW, I SWEAR!

Nagi:...

Reo, trying to keep his cool: This is so embarrassing. Explains why I always thought you were too cute for a boy.

CD!Yn: What?

Chris, pulling her behind him: Stay back from my child!

Reo:...

Chigiri:...

Nagi with his Miffy face: Does that mean I can dress you up as a maid?

Chigiri starts nose bleeding, Reo is scolding him, while Yn tries to leave the place.

Chris: 20 laps around the facility, Nagi!

Ubers:

Snuffy: So, only Barou knew about this?

CD!Yn: Well, him, Isagi, Ego-san, and Teieri-san.

Barou is in the corner getting rinsed by Oliver and Sendou on why he didn't tell them.

Oliver: You mean I might have had a shot?

Sendou: So the whole time I was crushing on a real girl?! *blush intensifies*

Niko had already fainted in another corner while Aryu was uncharacteristically silent as he stared at her.

Snuffy: Lorenzo, keep Yn away from these guys.

Lorenzo, already escorting her out: Let's go and get something to eat

CD!Yn: Ok? Did Aryu just faint?!

BM:

Kaiser: There is no way you are a girl! You are flat!-

Noa ends up bonking him on the head.

CD!Yn: And you have rat hair! *embarrassed*

Noa: And you knew this, Isagi?

Isagi, who was trying his best to calm Kurona down: She told me so during our 2nd selection process.

CD!Yn: True! Yukimiya, you haven't blinked once during this whole ordeal.

Yukimiya, in an attempt to rebuke it blinked once: I did! By the way, we can model together.

Hiori, acting like her bodyguard along with Kunigami and Gagamaru

Gagamaru: We will protect you from unwanted attention!

Kunigmai: Just stay around us.

Hiori: Yes! Don't worry, you are in good hands!

CD!Yn: Thank you!

Ness is meanwhile in a corner, recalling that one time he nearly walked in on Yn showering: AHHH! THIS IS ALL A MESS!

Kurona, after finally calming down: either guy or girl, Yn is still the cutest

Isagi: Very true!

PXG:

Charles: Still would date you!

CD!Yn: Date?! Aren't you disgusted I lied?!

Charles: Nope *pulls her into a hug* I still admire your abilities as a midfielder. Besides, I always had a thing for tall girls!

Yn starts blushing more as Ri and Karasu attempt to pull her away.

Rin, unsure about his own feelings for Yn now: Get off of her, you leach!

Karasu, still trying to comprehend he shared a room with a girl: She has her personal space! Let her go.

Charles: No~

CD!YN: C-calm down everyone!

Shidou is meanwhile excited by the idea that he got beat up by a girl once. Tokimitsu is trying to comprehend everything to the best of his abilities.

Tokimitsu: Girl or not, she is still our captain. Tho, I think she would look really cute in a dress *blushes*

Barcha:

Lavinho, absent-mindedly pats her head: Aha... well, that is quite the surprise you made for us, little lady.

CD!Yn: Yeah, sorry about keeping it a secret.

Otoya, slides next to her and put an arm around her shoulder: So, wanna go out? I know the perfect spot around here

Bachira, pouting and trying to pull Yn away: Get your dirty hands off of her, playboy!

Lavinho: You both leave her alone!

JFA was meanwhile calling Anri and Ego on every phone available. The calls varied either between scolding them for keeping this a secret, or offering to transfer Yn into the female national team.

Ego: Absolutely not! She is not leaving this facility and the JFA can't demand that either.

Anri: Yep! Yep! Besides, we will have now a person more to help with practices!

World 5:

Loki: So you are a girl?

CD!Yn: Yes, you took this surprisingly well.

Loki, blushing a little: Well, it was weirder to me that you showed much more empathy to my situation than the rest. This is very mild.

Pablo and Adam are meanwhile in a corner thinking of ideas to protect her from the boys on her team.

Dada: Don't worry, little lady. We will protect you in case this causes you trouble

CD!Yn: Huh? But I don't need protection-

Luna, pats her on the head: If anyone says anything, we will shut them up. Now, what did you say about your parents forcing you into this?

Pablo: I need addresses and names

Adam: Preferably now

CD!Yn gulps in fear as she saw the dark shadows looming over the World 5.

CD!Yn, thinking: should have kept my mouth shut

The rest of the world was either shocked or not that much surprised. The rest of the week is either spent on trying to figure out how Yn was outperforming the rest, while the other part was arguing over who would be the better boyfriend for her.

[adobealmanac]

The magic of scissors ✂️

There are many often negative superstitions surrounding scissors, from the Indigenous idea that using scissors during a wedding will cause the groom to become impotent to the notion that breaking a pair of scissors is a bad omen of arguments and distress in the home. However, in colonial New Mexico there was a vastly different notion, that being that scissors can be a positive and protective amulet.

In brujeria and curanderismo, scissors, specifically made of iron, are seen as deeply protective objects. While often said to be protective against witchcraft, modern pagans are welcome to use them as a general protective tool. Typically open scissors are used to protect against malevolent entities and fairies, however they may be used while closed too. Cutting the cord in a cord cutting ritual with iron scissors may aid in cutting off a psychic vampire.

Some superstitions from here include cutting spider webs with iron scissors to prevent the witches in the form of guajalote (the turkey) from sucking the blood of your children. It is also common to see a pair of open or closed scissors hung above the entryway to prevent evil from entering the home. This tradition is one of my favorites, as the scissors always feel so powerful and protecting whenever I walk beneath them. They may also be placed under the bed to prevent bad dreams.

New Mexico is an interesting place for folklore such as this to exist, as we tend to be very isolated from other cultures other than our Indigenous neighbors, which causes many of our own traditions to persevere for quite some time, along with our cultures blending with that of the natives who belong to this place. While in recent times it has become easier to travel here, it is still a relatively unpopulous place, with roughly 2.1 million inhabitants spread out over 121,280 square miles. With such space and isolation comes many tales.. such as that of the chupacabra, el coco, thunderbirds, and skinw**kers. If you choose to wander into our land, do, proceed with caution. That being said, we do have some phenomenal natural wonders such as white sands and cool festivals such as the balloon fiesta in ABQ. It's worth the trek, but be prepared and be safe.

[lustfulslxt]

could you write one where y/n and the triplets are at the beach and y/n is laying on her stomach tanning. chris is putting sunscreen on her back then starts to get all touchy feely and she feels him slip the bikini to the side and he fingers her secretively (she consents ofc) while the rest of them are in the water and when they get back to the air bnb he pulls her away from the group and is like “i feel like you owe me something hm?” PLSSS

Quid Pro Quo - Chris Sturniolo

warnings : smut.

—

Chris’ POV

It was a hot summer day; the sun was shining, the sky was clear. It was a perfect day to go to the beach, so that’s what we were doing. Nick, Matt, Nathan, Y/N, and I were all in our Airbnb, getting ready to head out.

I was sitting against the back of the couch, with Matt, waiting for the rest of them to finish. Personally, I don’t know what takes so long. Throw on your swimsuit and grab a towel.

“Jesus, what’s taking them so long?” Matt speaks, voicing my thoughts.

“I was just thinking that same thing.” I reply.

Just then, Nate comes walking out of the bathroom. His face was buried in his phone, so we knew why he was taking forever. When he looks up, he notices that it’s just me and Matt.

“Where’s everyone else?” He asks.

Before anyone could say anything, Y/N’s door opened and the last two emerged.

“About fucking time!” Matt exclaims with a huff. “There’s no reason we should be waiting on you guys for forty-five minutes. Like that’s absurd!”

“We’re just going to the beach.” I remind them, completely confused as to why it would take so long.

“Literally shut up, we’re ready now.” Nick says, rolling his eyes.

As my two brothers and Nate walked towards the door with their things, I noticed Y/N linger a little bit, so I did as well. She seemed to be off in her own little world, so I walked over and placed my arm on her shoulder.

“You straight?” I ask, watching as she looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“What? Yeah, I’m good.” She says, confusion clear as day in her voice. “Are you?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, “I’m cool. You’re the one that’s staring off into space.”

She slightly shakes her head with a smile on her lips as light laughter falls from her mouth, “My bad. I’m good though, let’s go.”

With that, she walked ahead, following the rest of them out the door. I stood there for a split second, watching her retreat. My eyes found themselves checking her out, admiring everything about her. She looked so good in her little jean shorts that were unbuttoned and folded over. I could see her

neon orange bikini showing beneath her shorts and through her white crop tee. She looked amazing, and I just wanted to get my hands on her.

Shaking my thoughts from my head, I followed in suit, and we all piled into the van. After connecting to aux, I queued a few songs and we were on our way.

-

“We should get something to eat when we leave.” Nate suggests as we all exit the car.

The rest of us agree in a multitude of hums and nods. We gather our bags that held sunscreen, snacks, drinks, towels, and spare clothes. Once we were all ready, we made our way onto the sand, searching for a good spot to chill.

Luckily, the beach was pretty clear of people, only having a few stragglers here and there. We chose a nice secluded area, setting our belongings out.

Y/N grabbed a large sheet from her bag and began sprawling it out. I grabbed a few things to put on the corners, keeping it in place. She sent me a grateful smile which I returned with ease.

“It’s so hot out here!” Nate groans.

“It’s summer, kid. There’s literally a vast ocean in front of your face.” Nick points out.

“Then let’s go!” Nate shouts, yanking off his t-shirt and removing his slides before running out to the water.

It only took a second for me, Matt, and Nick to do the same, following our friend. We all crashed into the water, our joyous laughter mixing together as we splashed around for a moment.

“Let’s see who can hold their breath the longest.” Matt grins, looking between the three of us.

“I’m down. Who’s judging?” Nate asks.

“Not it.” The three of them said in unison, leaving me to roll my eyes.

I shrugged, “Well. Are you gonna go, or what?”

“Okay, kid.” Nick rolls his eyes, “On three. One, two, three.”

They all submerged at the same time, leaving me at the surface. Immediately, my lips turn into a frown, and my eyes look back to shore. Y/N was laying out with our things, by herself. Not caring about their stupid game, I wade back out to the sand.

Once I’m fully emerged from the water, I hear Matt yelling out to me, “Chris! What the heck, you were supposed to judge!”

I just waved a dismissive hand and continued striding over to Y/N, determined to keep her company and spend time with her.

“Hey.” I greet, grabbing my towel and patting myself dry.

She looked up at me, holding her hand out above her eyes to block the sun. She had her eyes scrunched, trying to shield them from the brightness.

She looked so ridiculously good. Her perfect body in her perfect bikini. Her recently pedicured toes and manicured fingers, her beautiful hair flowing down her back, her flawless skin. She looked better than the sun.

“Hi.” She spoke, a smile on her face.

I return the smile, sitting myself next to her. She looked back out at the scene in front of her, taking in the beauty of nature and the sight of her friends making memories and having fun.

Taking in a slight breath, pulling my attention away from her, I reach for my bag to grab some sunscreen. I poured a little in my hands, then spread it over my face, rubbing it in. I repeated the same action to my arms and torso, applying it everywhere I would most likely get sunburnt.

“Here.” I say, handing the bottle to her. “Don’t wanna get burned, do you?”

She grins, accepting the bottle from me. I watched as she copied me, rubbing some onto her face.

She then turns to me and asks, “If I lay down to tan, do you think you could put some on my back?”

My dick practically jumped at that and I was immediately nodding my head and scooting closer to her. I grabbed the bottle as she laid down on her stomach, her head placed on her folded hands.

Once she was settled and I was sat on my knees next to her, I poured some of the sunscreen onto her back. I could see her slightly jump at the cold contact. Setting the bottle aside, I began to softly rub the liquid into her skin.

I couldn’t help the feeling of my dick slightly growing. It was completely unintentional, but I was unable to prevent it. Her skin was so soft and warm, shining perfectly under the bright sun. I could hear her sighing in content, enjoying the feeling.

My hands worked her shoulders and around her neck, firmly massaging them. My fingertips gently dug into her skin, rubbing in circular motions. As I moved lower, I could hear very quiet, almost inaudible, moans coming out of her mouth. The sound travelled straight to my dick, hardening it even more.

Adding more sunscreen to her lower back, I worked it into her skin. My fingers lightly dragged over the sides of her bikini bottoms, moving onto her legs. As I’m massaging her thighs, I hear another moan come from her, louder than before yet still quiet. Her body immediately tensed at the accidental slip.

“It’s okay.” I assure her, completely unbothered by it, in fact the opposite.

After a minute of rubbing her legs, I riskily moved my hands a bit higher, palming right beneath her ass. When I got no objections, I placed my hands on both of her cheeks.

“Is this okay?” I ask, meaning sure she wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest.

“Yes.” She quietly moaned out as I kneaded her ass.

Her soft grunts and moans encouraged me to keep squeezing her cheeks, gripping and rubbing them. My hands wrapped around each cheek perfectly, slightly spreading them, my fingers underneath her bottoms.

Her bikini bottoms were tightly pressed against her pussy from the positions of my hands. I could see her arousal peeking through at this point, and from that and her moans, I was so fucking hard.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” I whisper to her, my voice a bit raspy.

“Please.” She moans.

“Please what?” I question, a grin pulling to my lips.

“Touch me, please.” She begs, pushing her ass into my hands a little more.

I lick my lips, a groan escaping from me, thrilled at the thought of finally having her. I quickly look ahead, making sure our friends weren’t coming. They were still goofing off in the water, completely oblivious to us.

I can’t help but pull my bottom lip between my teeth as I slightly pulled her legs apart, just a little bit. My fingers meet right at her core, putting light pressure on her heat, causing her to whimper. My index finger hooks under the side of her bottoms and tug them to the opposite side, revealing her soaking wet pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” I grunt.

Without being too noticeable, I lean over her ass, my face hovering a foot or two above. I pucker my lips, my tongue pushing saliva to the forefront of my mouth, letting it fall. It only took seconds, before it seeped into her folds and mixed with her juices.

I take my fingertips and run them back and forth between her slit, mixing it all up and coating my fingers. She was letting out small moans and I was eating it up, she sounded to heavenly.

I bring my the pad of middle and ring finger down to her clit, rubbing in full circles. I started slow, her moans becoming louder. When I picked up the pace, her moans were more frequent as well. I dragged my middle finger to her entrance, sliding right into her opening.

“Mm, fuck that - that feels so good.” She moans out, grinding into my hand.

I kept pumping my finger for a moment, before adding another, causing a lewd moan to ripple from her throat. Having her like this was turning me on beyond relief. I just wanted to sink my dick into her and have her moaning my name.

Sneaking another eye out to the sea, I made sure the other three were still occupied. Then, I take my other hand and trail it up her legs, squeezing tenderly. My hand roams her body a little bit before slightly reaching under her and rubbing her clit w my fingers.

She was so wet, my fingers were just gliding all over her. Her mouth hung up as her face scrunched up, several moans falling from her lips. I knew she was close. Her legs slightly trembled and her hand clutched at the sheet beneath us as she pushed her core back into me.

I started pumping and rubbing faster, the moans coming from her doing nothing but encouraging me. Her whole body began to shake and I could feel her clenching around my fingers.

“Oh my god.” She loudly moans out, twitching as she lets go and gives in to her orgasm.

My hand was covered in her cum as I continued working her through her climax. I was so unbelievably turned on, I just wanted to bury myself deep inside her. Once she came down from her high, I pulled my hands away from her and brought my fingers into my mouth, tasting her sweetness.

She was panting, trying to regain her breath. She turned her head towards me, a breathy laugh falling from her mouth as I gave her a smug smile.

“Did you enjoy that?” I ask, smirking at her.

“Did you?” She retorts, nodding her head towards my throbbing dick, begging to be released from its shackles.

I groan at her, pulling my towel to cover my crotch, “Not fair.”

She only laughed, tossing her arms up in defense as she sat up, causing me to laugh with her. Just then, the others came walking up to shore, joining us.

“We’re hungry.” Nate says, “We wanna go get food.”

“I haven’t even swam yet.” Y/N pouts.

“That’s your fault!” Matt exclaims, “You two have been out here, doing who knows what. You could’ve been out there having a blast with us.”

Me and her share a look, heat rushing to her cheeks at the thought of what we just did. I still couldn’t get my boner to go down.

“Pack it up. We’re going.” Nick states, drying off.

So we do. We gather our things and head back to the car, except Nate takes the front seat with Matt, and I sit in the very back with Y/N, Nick being between both pairs.

Throughout the drive, Y/N stayed right next to me, arm to arm. She lifts her hand and placed it on my leg, her head resting on my shoulder. My breath hitched at the movement of her hand, her fingertips pressing into me.

I just knew my dick would betray me any second, proving to her just how much I was feeling her. The way she smelled and how warm she felt against me, I was already at her mercy.

I could feel my dick twitch when her hand slid closer to it, wanting nothing more than for her to touch me. I shifted in my seat, readjusting myself. She placed her hand right on top of my dick that was now hard and throbbing under her touch.

I shoot her a warning look and she just innocently smiles at me, slightly palming me through my swim trunks.

“What are you doing?” I ask her, my voice a whisper.

“Hmm? Nothing.” She responds.

Her voice sounded so sweet and angelic, I wanted nothing more than her to moan out my name as she was wrapped perfectly around my dick, me sunken deep inside her.

My thoughts alone were enough to make me want to explode, but the way her hand palmed and stroked me, I was in shambles. My hips were jerking, wanting to feel more of her. My teeth were gnawing on my bottom lip, trying my hardest to keep my groans inside.

I quickly grabbed her hand and squeezed it, halting her movements because I was so close to nutting in my shorts. I dropped my head onto the headrest behind me and let out a breath. Her giggling next to me caused me to look over at her, and I was glad I did.

She looked so lovely. The smile on her face was wide, her pretty teeth on show. Her eyes were crinkled as she shook with beautiful laughter falling from her mouth. She was everything, and I just wanted to give it all to her.

“You’re insane.” I whisper, interlocking our hands.

“Only for you.” She responded, a cheeky grin on her face.

I wanted more of her touch, but I knew I would have to wait until we got back to the house.

-

We had already gotten our food and ate in the parking lot like we usually do. We were now pulling back up to the house, all eager to finally be back.

We exited the van, all gathering our things and making our way inside. Everyone parted and went to their respective rooms.

I put my things away and changed into some shorts, walking around my room for a little bit. I wanted to go into her room, but I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to. And I didn’t want anybody else to say shit. Sighing, I pulled out my phone to text her.

-come to my room?

-omw

It was that simple, and now, I couldn’t wipe the stupid smirk off my face. I don’t know what got into me, but ever since we left the house earlier, she’s been on my mind the entire time. Even more so after she begged me to touch her.

A few soft knocks sounded on the other side of my door, and it opened, Y/N peeking her head inside. I smiled at her, beckoning her over with a nod.

She looked so good, wearing a small tank top with little shorts. And the fact that I could see her nipples through her shirt was driving me wild.

When she walks over and stops in front of me, I reach behind her and pull her closer to me, my hand resting on her lower back. She stares up at me, an innocent look in her eyes that I just want to wreck.

My other hand trails up the side of her body, stopping at her jaw as I cupped her face. My thumb brushed her bottom lip, feeling her soft skin. She felt so hot under me, I loved it.

“I feel like you owe me something, no?” I say to her, my voice husky.

I watched as her eyes blew out, now nothing but pupils as her irises were completely unnoticeable.

“Lock the door.” She whispered to me.

I eagerly did so, quickly making my way back to her. She put her hands on my bare chest and softly pushed me back until my legs hit the bed.

She effortlessly dropped to her knees, keeping her hands at my waistline. She hooked her fingers in my shorts and tugged them down, leaving me in nothing but my boxers.

My boxers were a tent around my erection, my hunger for her evident. She reached up and wrapped her hand around my covered dick, her eyes never wavering from mine. Her hand firmly gripped me, pumping me over the fabric, I couldn’t help but buck my hips towards her.

She licked her lips and pulled down my boxers, discarding them with my shorts. My cock sprang up, practically staring her in the face. I wanted her mouth on me so bad, I was damn near fiending for it.

She wrapped her hand around me once again, this time skin to skin, and I couldn’t help but shudder. The anticipation was building and I so badly just wanted to fuck her throat.

She brought her lips to my head, dragging them along my shaft. I could feel my breath get caught in my throat as I watched her. She wrapped her lips around the tip, flicking her tongue over my slit and collecting my precum.

“Fuck.” I groan, my hands immediately going to her head and grabbing fistfuls of her hair.

Without warning, she took all of me into her saliva coated mouth, her nose hitting my pubic bone. I could feel my tip sliding down her throat, causing me to tighten my grip in her hair as I let out a low groan.

She pulled back and did it once more, her eyes locked onto mine. She began bobbing her head, sucking around me as she went. One of her hands went to play with my balls while the other one jerked what she couldn’t take in her mouth.

I was in pure bliss. She was making me feel better than I’d ever felt before. The way she sucked harder around my sensitive tip, seeing how I reacted to it. The moans were pouring from my lips left and right.

I felt myself getting close to finishing when she pulled away, leaving me whimpering at the loss of contact. She continued jerking me, squeezing and twisting around my tip, and licked my slit with a flattened tongue when more precum emerged.

I almost came at the sight of her, a loud groan coming out of me. I placed my hand under her jaw, pulling her up to her feet. Only giving her a quick glance, my lips were on hers.

I kissed her hard and deep, shoving my tongue into her mouth and exploring the inside of it. She moaned into the kiss, her hands finding my hair and tugging it.

I pulled away, slightly out of breath, and placed my forehead on hers. “Mm, can I fuck you?”

She put her lips on mine, resuming our kiss. I felt her nodding, but I pushed her back a little, looking at her expectantly.

“Please.” She whined, “Please fuck me.”

I turned us around, then quickly removed her top, leaving her torso bare. Her nipples were hard and I couldn’t help but pinch them, causing her to let out a soft moan.

I pushed her back onto the bed and leaned over her, my mouth meeting hers again. Our tongues colliding, teeth clashing. My hands slipped into her bottoms, tugging her shorts and her panties down, and pulling them down her legs and off her feet.

Her pussy was glistening with her arousal, and I just wanted to devour her. I sat on my knees, situating myself in between her legs. I brought my hand forward, teasing her folds with soft feather like touches.

She moaned out, thrusting her hips into my hand to create more friction. I chuckled at her desperation, and hovered back over her.

My hand enveloped her neck, gently squeezing as I planted a kiss onto her lips. My mouth trailed from hers, down her jaw, and onto her neck, leaving wet kisses in my wake.

Enough with prolonging it, I sat back up and lined myself with her entrance. Looking into her eyes, I sink myself into her. She reaches down and intertwines her hands with mine as I bottom out, low moans leaving both of our mouths.

I slowly start to rock in and out of her, loving every sound that she was letting out. Her grip on my hands tightened as I thrusted faster.

“You feel so fucking good around me.” I moaned, hitting even harder.

Her eyes were rolling in the back of her head as her face contorted in pleasure. I swiftly grabbed her legs, lifting them high and letting them rest on my shoulders, before drilling back into her.

“Oh fuck!” She yelps, a string of moans following. “Yes, right there.”

My thrusts were fast and hard, burying my dick deep within her. The sultry moans she was giving me was driving me crazy, I wanted all of her forever.

I leaned forward to quickly kiss her, missing the feeling of her lips on mine. She was soaking wet and I could feel her juices dripping down my balls as she clenched around me. We were both so close, I could see it in the way she was a moaning and quivering mess beneath me.

“You fill me up so well.” She moans, her hands dragging down my back. “I’m about to cum.”

I continued fucking into her at the same pace, knowing she would be falling over the edge soon. And she did.

Her legs violently shook as she arched her back, loud pornographic moans coming out of her mouth. She was trembling as she let go, cumming all over my dick.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. I’m so close.” I tell her, watching her face as she climaxes.

She opened her eyes and smiled at me, before biting her lip, “Cum on my face.”

My eyes widened and I almost nutted right then and there, but I pulled out. She slid down as I came above her, positioned right over her face. My hand grasps my dick and it only took a few jerks before my stomach tightened and I shot my load out.

Her tongue was out, spurts of white nut landing all over it and the rest of her face. She looked so fucking hot, being a good little slut for me.

After both of us came down, I crashed beside her. I took in a few breaths before quickly going to my conjoined bathroom and wetting a washcloth with warm water. I went back over to the bed and kneeled next to her, softly cleaning her face as she looked up at me.

Once her face was clear again, I leaned forward and planted a few kisses on her lips. Folding the towel, I brought it between her legs and cleaned her own juices up. I then go to the bathroom and wiped myself up and discarded the towels.

Back in the room, I put my boxers back on and pull out a shirt from my closet, then hand it to her as she puts her panties back on.

“Will you stay?” I ask her, hopeful. “Will you stay and cuddle with me?”

She smiled, “I’d love that.”

I return the smile and climb into bed with her. We both get under the covers and I pull her into my embrace, planting a soft kiss on her head. She lays her head on my chest and wraps her arms around me as I put mine around her.

It didn’t take long for sleep to overcome us, as we were both feeling content and spent.

—

a/n : here you go bby, hope you enjoy it!! send in more reqs 🫶🏼

[furiousgoldfish]

When you're a child of an abusive parent, you experience rejection, shame, guilt, and the pain of 'not being good enough', almost on a daily basis. Your parents make it clear they're not proud of you; they want to change everything on you, you're not what they wanted to have as a part of their family, they're ready to leave you on the street any second if they could. Sometimes they'll even threaten it directly, making it clear they're willing and eager for it.

This is a complete emotional abandonment, because not only they don't care about your experience of life and safety, but they wouldn't care what kind of fear, pain and danger you'd be exposed to if you were homeless. And children can feel that, they know their own parents are rejecting them, finding them of zero value, worthless and unwanted. This causes an existential rift in children because our biology is based on our parents accepting us, caring for us, protecting us, caring about our emotions and everything that happens to us, and this is where we draw our feeling of value, and feeling of care for ourselves; we need to be taught this trough experiences of being protected and loved. When parents decide to abandon all parental instincts and instead treat you like a stranger who's intruding in their home and should be paying to stay there, the entire concept falls apart.

This makes children feel like they have no value, because if their own parents don't want them, like them, or care for them, who else could? We're born into the world where we're told that all parents love their children, even if the children become bad, that the instinct to love your own child is so strong that everything else falls behind, but then our parents see our every feature as a reason to not love us, to abandon us. All a child can do at this point is to assume they're so bad, so intrinsically worthless, horrible and intolerable, that they cannot be loved. And from everything they've seen and experienced in this world, this checks out. If all parents love their children, no matter how bad, there must be something horrifyingly wrong with us if our parents don't do that. 

I remember feeling that if even my parents won't love me, then nobody will. If they don't want me, I must be worthless, I must be redundant, an excess that this world never wanted. I felt that I had no place in this world, because nobody could possibly want me. It didn't make sense to even be alive; nothing made sense, why I was born made no sense.

Once you're in that hopeless place where nothing makes sense, it's incredibly hard to pull yourself out of that. Because no, there's layers and layers of lies this had been built on, there's no human being who doesn't deserve the parental love, who is intrinsically worthless or unlovable. There is nobody whose life is without sense, who has no space on this earth. Because as soon as we're born, we have our life, and then the right to exist belongs to us, the right to lead our life the way we want to, belongs to us. We're just being consistently told that this is not the case; that our job is meeting expectations, that if our parents don't love us, it's to do with us, and nothing could possibly be blamed on them, we're being told that our parents want the best for us even when it's a complete lie. We're told that 'feeling unlovable' is our own problem and not the consequence of years of abuse and neglect.

It's not acknowledged how devastating it is that people who have to deal with those heavy feelings are children, who are so young, and so blameless for the lack of love and care they receive from their family. That living in a place where your own blood, your own family displays hatred for you, is devastating on children's self perception and self worth, and it makes them experience a reality where the whole world hates them, where future doesn't exist for them, where they're without value and not even allowed to have a point of view. An adult would become crushed and struggle to survive under such circumstances, it's sick to force it on the children. It's only normal to keep struggling with this for a long time after being exposed to it during your upbringing. This is a type of torture and no child deserved that. It comes with consequences and nobody will even acknowledge it.

I would love to offer advice on how to stop feeling like your value is non-existent, but the way I dealt with it seems to just be the dissociative disorder, that entire trauma is contained in one alter so I don't have to feel it. Once I was removed from that emotional pain, I was able to recognize that my life belongs to me, and I decide what I'm worth, and what my sense in life will be. I get to make my own rules, my own standards for what is valuable, what traits I will hold in high esteem, what I will like, support and appreciate, both in myself and others. I was able to want to protect my life regardless of what my family says should happen to it, because the control of my life should always belong to me, and no other should get a say. This is mine, it will be mine until my last breath. If they gave me life with a concrete plan on how I should accommodate their lives and make it easier for them, they should have thought to buy a robot instead; you don't decide on a life of a person. I owe nothing to a creator who made a plan for me to suffer; I get to feel disdain and disgust towards any person who brought a life to a place of suffering and pain. It's inhumane, irresponsible, selfish, horrifically neglectful and shows no regard for human life. It's incompatible with any kind of a happy life. I get to look down on them. They did wrong and I am suffering the consequences. My life should have been mine from day one. They should have been looking for ways to support me to live it the way I want to. It was their one job.

[bountycancelled]

LOST CAUSE

bada x reader (part 1)

MASTERLIST | NEXT

warnings: none really, it's just kinda sad

content: petnames (only one is used in reference to reader, but a few are mentioned) alcohol mentions (reader drinks away her feels) sad gays and bad gays, unedited becusse I'm lazy, a whole lotta projecting myself onto reader

being bada's best friend would be the death of you, you were calling it right now.

she wasn't a bad friend by any means, quite the opposite actually. from the late night talks that would last until the early mornings before you both passed out, the tiny, sentimental gifts she would randomly get for you without expecting anything in return, to the way she would hold you, god, she was perfect. you loved everything about her.

but, that was the problem, wasn't it? you loved her. and a part of you wants to blame her for making it so easy, falling for her, but you know that would be unfair. not only because she wasn't leading you on or anything, but also because she couldn't do any wrong in your eyes.

everytime your heart fluttered at one of her actions, it would sink just as quickly. she's doing this as a friend, you would always remind yourself. but your not so friendly reminders didn't stop you from hoping. for something more, that one day, miracously, bada would realise that she was in lo–

"what's got you so worried?" you were pulled out of your daily dose of dramatic reality checking by none other than bada. her head was in your lap, she stared up at you with a look that you could only describe as... content. comfortable. and so, so beautiful.

"huh?" you answered, having not heard her clearly, too busy being in your head instead of in the real world, where unfortunately, you belonged.

she raised her arm and pressed on the space between your eyebrows, a small pout on her face. "you're frowning. what's wrong, pretty?"

the nicknames. the fucking. nicknames.

pretty, gorgeous, baby, love, honey. it was things like that made you believe, even if just for a moment, that she knew that you liked her, loved her, and was just toying with you for enjoyment.

you'd feel guilty everytime you had that thought. she wouldn't. not to you, not to anyone, not ever.

"it's nothing, really. I'm just in a mood today." you shrugged, hoping that she would, for your sake, take your half-hearted explanation and leave it there.

she nodded, clearly unconvinced, but moved one nonetheless. "do you still wanna go to the club tonight? we can cancel and spend the night together instead." she offered, lifting her head off of your lap in favour of placing it on your shoulder, waiting for your answer.

"no, we can still go, we'll just come back here together. we've blown off our friends enough times, I'm starting to feel bad." you joked, and once again, the atmosphere was light and airy. with that settled, you both stood up, trying to find something to wear for the nights activities.

you walked into her closet, sprinkled with tops and skirts from your own, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation. for someone who claimed that being around bada was painful, your personal stamp on her home sure made it hard to believe.

"how's this?" you said for what felt like the 29th time to bada (it was only the third) as you spun around for her, showing off one of your options for the night.

she sat at the edge of the bed, ready to go about 20 minutes before you, as she usually was. her head was tilted back, staring at the ceiling as she waited patiently for you to finally choose something to wear.

you tried not to stare at her neck, which she made easier for you by finally looking at you, tilting her head to the side as she inspected your outfit.

"I was gonna say its looks as good as the other two because you look amazing in anything and everything, but... I like this one. a lot."

the way she looked at you when she said that, with her bottom lip between her teeth, stayed with you as you walked to the club together, hand in hand. did she really have no idea how much she affected you? you weren't sure if you hoped that she didn't, or did.

but you weren't going to think of that tonight. you were going to drink, and dance, and hang out with your friends, and not let bada affect you. if only for just one night.

okay, maybe you had had one too many drinks by now, but you weren't drunk just yet. it was still the normal you, just with a few tweaks. a little less shame here, a little more confidence here, nothing too major.

you were half in minah's lap and half in tatters, singing obnoxiously, almost as loud as the song blasting from the speakers. you weren't even thinking of bada... wait, where the hell was bada?

you squinted your eyes as they darted across the dance floor, hopelessly trying to locate her in the dim lighting of the club. but you didn't have to look for long, because she was headed back to your table, a smile painted on her face.

you stood up, suprisingly not stumbling as you walked up to her, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. "where were you?" you shouted over the music, wearing a curious expression.

she bit her lip excitedly before speaking into your ear, sending involuntary shivers down your spine. damn you and your natural charm, bada.

"I met a girl." you didn't mean for your face to drop in the way that it did, but from the looks of it, bada didn't even notice. if she did, then she didn't mention it.

"she actually wants to come over to my place..." bada trailed off, sending you a pleading look, a certain lust-driven glee shining in her eyes.

"oh." you said flatly before you could stop yourself, moving your arms away from her and crossing them over your chest.

she quickly wrapped her arms around your middle, squeezing while pleading her case in an effort to soften the blow. it doesn't help, not one bit.

"I know we were supposed to have a binging marathon, but please baby? just this once? I'll make it up to you real good, you know I always do." 'because I always let you.' you wanted to add, but you bit your tongue, you weren't feining for a fight with bada right about now.

you sigh, your arms hanging limply by your sides. "okay. I'll just crash at lushers'." you fight the urge to gag as she squeals in excitement, at the prospect of spending the night with someone who isn't you.

she gave you a curious look, most likely sensing your jealousy apprehension, her arms still around you, feeling more suffocating than comforting at that moment.

"...are you sure?" no. I'm not, don't go with her.

you nodded furiously, removing her arms from your frame, and turning her around, pushing her toward the dance floor where she had left her pursuit for the night. "go, she'll think you're blowing her off if you keep talking to me."

"are you actually, super, one hundred percent certain that I can go with her?" she pushed you further, and you knew that she knew that you weren't really all that okay with it.

but what was the point? you could easily sway her into sticking to the original plan, but she would've spent the whole night daydreaming about what could've been with the mysterious girl at the club. you didn't want to deal with that. you were tired of feeling like a second choice.

you wanted her to choose you, because she wanted to choose you. not because you asked her to.

'no, I'm not sure. I don't want you to go with her. I want you to choose me for once. choose me.' you screamed in your own mind, but all that could be seen on the outside was you smiling the best you could at bada, nodding once more before walking back to where the rest of your group sat, downing the drink in front of you.

you didn't know if it was even yours, but it didn't matter to you right now.

minah noticed your sudden change in mood, holding your hand in hers in a silent attempt to comfort you. you squeezed it as means of expressing gratitude, you didn't wanna talk about it.

but, you didn't need to. she knew, and if the downright pitiful looks the rest of the group were throwing your way were anything to go by, it seemed that everyone else knew too.

you wanted to leave, so you left. lusher had no problem going home early with you, she could tell that you weren't in a good headspace. you left with lushers arms around you, half to make sure that you didn't stumble, and half to try to make you feel a little better.

you left with a bitter taste in your mouth, and not from the shitty drinks you were downing.

you left without saying goodbye to bada, which you never did. she waved when she saw you by the door, that big smile still evident even in the dark lighting.

you didn't wave back.

a/n: this wasn't planned, and I wrote it in a day, but I hope you guys like it. also, doing a bada series and and a bada smau at the same time isn't my brightest idea, but fuck it, we ball.

[multiplicity-positivity]

Here’s some positivity for headmates without roles!

Not every system uses or benefits from roles, and some collectives may find that some of their headmates either don’t have roles or don’t know what their roles may be. This is totally fine - there is no one right way to be a system or experience system roles! This post is for all the headmates out there who don’t have a role in their system!

🍁 Shoutout to headmates who are the only one in their system without a discernible role!

🥮 Shoutout to systems who are mostly made up of headmates without roles!

🍂 Shoutout to headmates without roles who wish they had a role, or who have decided consciously to take on a role for themselves!

🍄 Shoutout to headmates who are perfectly comfortable and happy living without a system role!

🍁 Shoutout to systems who do not use roles for any member!

🥮 Shoutout to headmates without roles who sometimes feel less useful than their headmates who do have roles!

🍂 Shoutout to headmates who feel as though they do have a system role, but aren’t sure what it is!

🍄 Shoutout to created headmates who were not created with a role and don’t have one as a result!

🍁 Shoutout to headmates with strange or unorthodox roles which may not be considered a real role by others!

🥮 Shoutout to headmates without roles who wish system roles weren’t such a big part of commonly discussed system life!

🍂 Shoutout to systems who have been fakeclaimed in the past for their headmates’ lack of roles!

🍄 Shoutout to headmates who feel like they don’t fit or don’t belong in their system due to not having a role!

Friends, not having a system role is a normal part of plural life for many folks. It’s okay to not have a role, even if nearly every other headmate in your own system has one. Not having a role does not make you any less valued, respected, or loved, as a member of your system and a member of the plural community! You belong and you are wanted just the way you are, regardless of your role status.

We hope that every headmate without a role can have a wonderful day today. Please do your best to treat yourself and your system with compassion and gentleness. You may discover a role later in life, or you may not; remember that roles are not a requirement for any system, regardless of their size, origin, trauma history, or anything else! You are special, valid, and so cherished exactly the way you are. We hope you can fill your lives with purpose, comfort, and meaning, and know that you will always belong, both in your system and in our spaces, no matter what. Thank you so much for reading, and take care!

[radio-fmm]

Love recipe

Sanji x gardener!reader

fluff!!!!!!!! Stablished relationship, gn reader, from my gardener!reader series but can be read as a stand alone, I recommend this

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: In which you find Sanji’s cook notebook

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

An endless sea of boxes filled your room in the Sunny, when had you accumulated so much stuff in your time with the strawhats? You didn’t know

You were the kind to keep everything, even the tiniest things held so much memories and meaning that you just couldn’t leave them behind

But you were starting to regret it

A week ago you and Sanji had finally decided to tell the crew that you were dating

After being met with all of your crewmates groans of defeat as they handed a couple berries to Nami you realized maybe you were a little more obvious than you thought

Regardless they were happy and a little relieved that you two had finally settled down

“So is the dumb cook finally moving out? We are tired of you leaving every night to our quarters,” Zoro was quick to ask you looking dead in your bashful eyes, red blush rushing to your face

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” Sanji screamed at the swordsman in your defense

As much as you tried to brush the matter off or deny the accusations everyone had witnessed how at very ungodly hours of the night you’d slip into Sanjis bed to sleep soundly and turning back to your own at sunrise thinking no one noticed

“OR you can move in with us!” Your Captain chimed in but his idea was immediately shot down by your boyfriend

So he moved in your room, something you were happy about but right now, as you choose what to keep, throw away or store in boxes to make space for Sanji, was giving you a huge headache.

You sat cross legged in the middle of your floor between boxes looking like cat in hiding as Sanji walked in with a couple of more boxes in hand, settling them on the ground glancing at your form and smiling in endearment

“Almost done my love” he spoke up making you bend backwards and smiling at him

“Let me get up and help you with the rest”

“Absolutely not” something about you even lifting a finger in his presence always made him shiver, there was no way he was gonna allow you carry his heavy boxes, he knew you were capable, he just didn’t wanted you to

It was the third time you had offered to help him so you just gave up and giggled before returning to your task as the blonde went back to make yet another trip from the boys quarters to your room

You let out a defeated sigh as you finally finished up choosing everything that you decided to get rid off. As you got up with the box you tripped over the others that surrounded you making you lose balance, in an attempt to save yourself from a nasty fall, one of Sanjis boxes opened and some of his belongings scattered across the floor

“Dammit” carefully you place your box aside as you hastily take your boyfriend’s personal stuff and return them into the box, not wanting Sanji to think you were snooping round his personal belongings

As you delicately put his box aside, a notebook lays on the ground that you seemed to have missed to put away, you take it but instead of storing it, your hands explore the markings on the cover

‘Sanjis cookbook’ it read in his neat handwriting, you smile to yourself before slowly opening it, the notebook was well loved and you didn’t wanted it to break apart at your touch. The pages were filled with different recipes the cook had came up with during the years, it was sweet how noticeable was the change in his notes when he joined the strawhats, suddenly more intricate and lively dishes appearing on its pages. It was obvious how much he enjoyed being the crews cook, this was a trait of him you always had loved and admired. The cook had created dishes, drinks and pastries inspired by every crew member, some just being fun experimental ones, while others attended to their nutritional needs

Some really tasty meat recipes made for Luffy

An orangy strong drink for Nami

Boring rice-balls with a hint of sake for Zoro

Coffee infused pastries for Robin

Chicken a lá Soda for Franky

Taroyaki for Usopp

Sweet cotton candy for Chopper

Curry for Brook

Some of them with your name on it eventually show up but were all about either your diet or changing some ingredients up in meals you didn’t quite like or would upset your stomach, even your favorite vegetable soup was in there with a marking on it with your name. Expectancy bubbled in your stomach as you waited for dishes made not for you, but inspired by you to appear, but as you kept on reading the pages of everyone’s meals except yours a frown plastered on your lips

“Oh” you thought, maybe you weren’t good enough to be Sanji’s muse. Of course you knew he loved you endlessly, he would assure you everyday and you’ll see it in different ways he had to tell you ‘I love you’ without even speaking it.

The way he would patiently show you how to cut ingredients in the kitchen so you could help him and spend quality time, or the names he’d call you that sweetened your days, how he would always be on your call and foot for whatever you wished or needed, the dreamy look you’d spark on his eyes and even just the full on attention he’d offer you, as if you were the only thing in the world

But still, one would think you’ll at least have one dish dedicated to you after all the love he exuded in your presence

As you gave up and started to close the notebook, you saw a page near the end with your name on it, making your eyes grow wide in joy. You open it to find not a dish, but a whole different section of the notebook just for you, the cook had even drawn tiny hearts after your name

Pink dusted your face and a bright smile grew on your lips as you admired the dishes Sanji had crafted with such love and dedication, recognizing some of them and even remembering how he had asked you to taste test them in the past. You were moved, over the moon wasn’t enough of an expression to understand how you were feeling, no one had ever shown this much appreciation for you, small tears peaked at the corner of your eyes of the fullness you felt. How could you ever return such a gesture? Such love declaration that you didn’t even were supposed to know about?

You return the notebook to its rightful place before standing back on your feet and taking your box towards the door that slowly opened revealing your tall blonde handsome of a boyfriend with the last box

“Sorry it took so long sunlight, Luffy asked me for another snack and I ha-“ he was cut off by the biggest warmest hug he had ever received in his life, dropping the box as your hands found a spot on his neck and your lips pecked his before hiding your face in his neck, your feet tip toeing so you could reach

The action took Sanji by surprise, making him blush and stand frozen in place at your sudden affection that he still found difficult to come around, always being used to be the more affectionate one until you showed up and made him know how much loved he deserved back

“Is everything alright my love?”

“Yes darling, everything’s amazing”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Omg they’re back I’m so happy!!!! Hope you enjoy and remember you can request anything you wanna see about these two or just anything One Piece related technically

[unsoundedcomic]

Whumptober 2024 - 23 - “Forced Choice”

((First part here))

When first the Lady whispered to me of a cache of forgotten wisdom hidden in the heart of Mmatont Anchert, the image of a library had blossomed in my mind's eye: dusty parchments, fat worm-eaten tomes, crumbling scrolls crowding each other for space on warped and collapsing shelves.

What I had not envisioned was what Rahm and I found when our gruff guide opened the Living Wood door.

A breeze colder than ice assailed us from a chamber of unbroken blackness. I could see no ceiling and see no walls; only a rectangle of floor smeared golden before our feet by the light of the Soud's torch. I stepped into it. My boots crunched over the fragile granules of ancient insect carapaces and layers and layers of… bird droppings?

The door closed behind us suddenly - very theatrical, pissmop! - and Rahm and I were in the dark.

"A moment, a moment," he muttered. I imagined him smacking his lighter against the heel of his hand and yes, it cracked suddenly to life with a muted blue burst. Despite the chill, Rahm's face was shiny with sweat, eyes wide, nostrils flared. I imagine my expression was similar, though more handsome of course.

"It stinks like Juste," I whispered.

"Birds."

Aye. Birds. I hooked his elbow with my own and we moved deeper into the room. Rahm thrust the wee pymaric light before us, but it made few inroads through the ink: no walls, no structural planes to catch the glow and reveal themselves; only an empty void where we had expected so much.

"I hope that boy is all right," Rahm said suddenly. I yelped a nervous laugh - I could not help it! - and he tensed against my arm.

"You know they have killed him. Let it go. He was nothing to us. Perhaps he touched children or worse! Licked his fingers at the supper table! Put your mind on why we've come."

My arm was colder and the room a bit blacker when he pulled away from me. "You're an asshole, Bastion. I know where your mind is."

"My mind is fixed firmly upon obtaining the algorhythms needed to chase the pieces of the scattered human soul, I have never hidden this-"

"In order to bring your sister back!" Rahm sounded triumphant, as though he was exposing to the light some long hidden and grimy secret. I always did love my self-righteous friend. And so I hated to scoff at him, but I cannot control my ego when it is in control. Which is often. Daily. Hourly.

"I had to pick SOME deceased subject, Rahm. She is as good as any other. I knew her well, I can identify whatever mind that reconstitutes as either belonging to her, or evidencing too aberrently. Should I have chosen that lovely young soprano who threw herself off the Spire last year, bashing her pretty brains out all over Rue Jonovan? I didn't even know her favourite colour."

Rahm's lips worried over his teeth with unvoiced emotion. I frankly did not give a whore's fart whether he believed me or not. I continued: "You? Your mind? You are after the resurrection of your dead son. And not for the good of us all, not to overcome the gods' crime, not to raise us from the muck that mortality condems us to; you wish it to apologise to your wife and to mend your cracked heart. Well, I think that is a WASTE - a disgraceful WASTE of a spellwright's intellect and a great man's mind!"

A strange expression passed over Rahm's face. For a moment I was fearful he would weep. But that was not quite right. It was sorrow yes, but… why, if I hadn't known better, I would have thought it was sorrow for ME.

What a fool that Rahm Ripa.

"What is here!" he suddenly challenged the emptiness, and wheeled away. He spun about, blue light feebly punching at the black, dust motes wildly bobbing. I saw a single small feather catch, then vanish again. "We were told of this place by Lady Ilganyag, Eldest of the Old! Who heard the First Words spoken and saw the Arbiter Khert take hold!"

No response.

"Try it in Tainish," I suggested. Rahm glowered deeper. Understandble. Dreadful bother to translate and localize verse, you always lose something. One really must learn Continental to enjoy the written works of Gari Fiat at all.

"Look onto the khert," he bade me sharply.

"Ach, very well, but you watch my back while I am vulnerable." I felt the Lady stir in my thoughts but say nothing as I complied. With a steady inhalation, I imagined my breath sweeping the flesh and blood and baggage from my bones; my bones themselves crumbling like ash behind me as I stepped forward through myself, and opened my eyes to the khert-lines.

I stumbled. Rahm caught my arm. A fool, but a friend.

Cutting golden through the blackness, the khert-lines here were thick as hawsers, knotted and twisted around themselves, Aspects and ghosts both sluggishly pulsing through them as though as cold as we were. Phantoms fitfully fluttered in the far, far corners of the room, and still more spiraled against the ceiling far above, skittering blind ghost fingers for some khert-line to follow towards freedom. Feeling Rahm watching me, I dropped my gaze and squinted through the gilded slashes, leading him deeper in.

There. An undefined void against the golden glow of the khert, I saw a Shape. It was a well-known shape to any son of Juste and follower of the Lady. The lines skittered around it, unable to intersect, and the ghosts themselves seemed repulsed. I heard Rahm gasp. A familiar belch of panic gripped my midsection when I tried to return to my fleshly eyes and found them sluggish. Then I steeled myself and with a moment's concerted effort the khert was blinked away, the blackness was returned - burning with no after images, no scintillation of pupils dilating - and I was immediately able to see the blacker black that loomed before us.

Every filament of Silver throughout my body burned hot. The torc at my throat clenched enough to leave me breathless.

In crackling old Tainish, the great Agib asked: "What do these Humans desire."

Oh, what a creature! Imagine a great avian raptor as tall as two men, of ebon plumage and silver razor talons. Now stretch its neck out to thrice the length of its body, give it the beak of a crow, golden human sclera, and irises red as fresh blood.

Rahm gibbered a moment and grabbed his own collar. Then our torcs relaxed, leaving us panting in tandem. Distantly sexy. The bird cocked its head to the side, then level again, then back. It was looking at Rahm's wee lighter. It occurred to me that a creature such as this must not often see such devices. In fact this was a newer design out of the Fluirstadt workshops, using starfly lymph and mirrors, and likely completely revolutionary to such a Mmatont shut-in.

"Give that to Agib," croaked the bird.

Rahm moved to comply and I snatched at his arm. I swear to the dead gods these Crescians do not know how to negotiate.

"We are come for knowledge," I interjected, making the lighter my own. I crushed the shiny bargaining chip to my chest, afraid he'd snatch it. "Lady Ilganyag sent us. She-"

The agib exploded into movement! It drew up on its claws, extended its legs, and shook open its dusty wings! They reached to the ceiling, embers of red burning deep at the roots of the primary quills. "Not the Lady of this Agib!" I think it said. The words were so garbled, the vocabulary so archaic. "Not the Lady of this Agib!"

Inside my head, my own bird was still.

"She wants not a thing from you!" I called, "My compeer and I wish only discourse with a brother scholar, one that I recognise has a savvy appreciation for pymary and pymarics! We have more than this lighter; we have an entire collection with us - in our luggage - of the most modern devices in use today. More than I can say of these savages keeping you prisoner."

"Agib is no prisoner," said the bird. Indeed, I realised suddenly there were no chains on this creature. But what a black, sad room it had been crushed inside. How was this more than a cage of stone, the floor a morass of shit and feathery down-

Oh, shit. SHIT. It had been shitting. Eating. Senet beasts only eat to repair wounds.

"Great injury," the bird lamented, folding its wings. Looking closer, I saw gaps in its primaries, and grievous half-healed fissures in its breast and legs.

"You fought with something," Rahm guessed politely. The monster shifted. All its plumage puffed suddenly, throwing off dust and muck in a choking cloud. It shook, then settled, its down sinking and skirting over its fearsome First Silver talons. Red eyes swung between my face and Rahm's.

"What do these Humans desire?" it asked again, "Humans of Ilganyag. Agib will give you single thing. You will all your precious creations give. Give to Agib all your precious creations. Single thing will Agib give."

Doubt nibbled at me. I knew that these creatures had for all time been the keepers of pymary, for they were the keepers of Old Tainish, the first language of the world. They alone fluently spoke the first words, and had taught them to men when they had thought them ready. If there were secrets, these testy great squawkers would have them. Having had one nesting inside of me since I was a boy, few know them as well.

But this monster did not seem as… put together, as my Lady Ilganyag.

Rahm must have had similar thoughts for he asked: "Who are you, my Lord? How can Humans know what it is Agib… Agib has to give?" It was charming to hear the Crescian try to modulate his Tainish into the old cadence, and use the older words.

"Agib knows," it replied simply.

"Agib knows words," Rahm agreed, "And Agib… knows that words can be spoken to… mirror reality, or to conjure a reality that is not real."

The beast twitched and threw its head, frustrated with the pair of us. I think it had grown accustomed to its solitude. "Humans," it said, "Humans invented the thing that is lying. Ilganyag lines her nest with it! Agib do not lie. Agib love the garden, admire the garden, protect the garden; never is there cause to speak untrue words about the garden!"

"But how can we KNOW?"

The beast puffed its breast and throat again, weaving its long, long neck in a serpent pattern. Rahm extended mollifying hands, his rings flashing in the soft blue light. The sight of them captured the bird's wandering eye. I chuckled. Apparently it loved shinies just as much as my mistress.

Without looking away from the glinting jewellery, in hisses and croaks it recited: "The garden is the garden, paths and stones fixed. Motive and movements determined. The world is in this garden grown and for this garden meant. To change the garden is to KILL the world. Agib alone know how to plant, to prune; the tools are of the Agib and the Agib alone have the tools. To lie is a tool to shape humans; a lie cannot shape the garden. Human tongues never can twist the heart of the garden; only the hearts of humans."

"That was true once," I said, not caring for its arrogance, "But there is a reason Agib have become passing rare, isn't there? Humans have surpassed you and taken your tools-"

The Agib's terrible eyes flared. "AGIB COULD PRUNE YOU NOW, ILGANYAG HUMAN."

Incomprehensible pain opened my insides like a knife. The sun itself burst out of my entrails, up through stomach and esophagus, into my mouth and devoured my eyes, my sinuses, my brain in fire. I have no memory of how I came to be on the ground but then I was, all of reality shrinking away from me - I was in the dark, screaming.

When sensible again, I saw Rahm crouched protectively over me, shielding me, and the wee lighter was in the Agib's beak. All of my friend's rings were gone. Rahm's lips moved but I couldn't hear his words through my groaning, through the echoing pain.

How was I alive? Briefly, I did not wish to be.

Small red hands come from the beast's silver maw. They drew the lighter in, greedily in, clinking against the other jewellery already in its mouth. Then its bill shut, and we were all of us left in the dark. I sobbed like a child in Rahm's arms.

"He did not speak!" I wailed, "He did not speak!"

"What do these humans desire," asked the Agib a final time.

I desired nothing more in that moment than to flee from this room, from this structure, from this island, and away from this monster. It was nothing like Ilganyag. My Lady leads me on a merry dance, but I know the steps. I can sense her moods like a hound turning its snout to the wind. She hates me, but she loves me too. She feels the same about every one of us.

No similar ambivalence from this bird in the black. I knew it cursed us all, and would peck the eyes from a newborn's skull. It had, too. Somehow I knew that it had, countless times. It had been the God of the Soud Vaghal; one of the things on the mountain beneath whose shadow the primitive Tains had cowered and sacrificed.

"I want nothing," I whispered. I'd never said that before. I'd never meant it. I've not meant it since.

Rahm held me tightly as I shuddered, but he was not so defeated. I wonder now what thoughts were behind his eyes as he cast them through the lightless room and towards the unfathomable power of the Agib in the Dark. Did he think of Iori sobbing over their dead boy? The boy himself, dissolving into the khert like sands captured by the surf and pulled into the sea... I wanted to tell him that no answer this creature gave would be answer enough for any of it.

Rahm shifted softly against me and drew his shoulders back to speak. "I wish for us to fly," he said, "Humans cannot shape the garden, but to look down upon it as the Agib does, and behold its splendour, might inspire our tongues towards the same reverence as yours."

A long moment passed. Very faintly I could hear the muffled clinking of metal inside the bird's body, as its tiny hands turned its new treasures over and over. Then:

"A good trade."

---------

A few days later, Rahm and I were back in Tain. Our boat had landed in a little fishing town called Orniers, similar to Lurick and quite as dull. Still, our inn served a fine side of pork and I had ordered a bottle of Omid Red, stewed apples, and a wedge of that soft cheese they make in the west. Rahm swirled his pour in his slim brown fingers, naked now of their pymaric finery but no less elegant.

I'd felt sour and cross since returning. I had left the monster's room to be ill, but Rahm had stayed behind, conferring with the bird and watching it produce formulae of incredible complexity. Now he had a stack of notes and numbers written with impossible precision - they nearly looked pressed with type.

"Did it use its wee mouth hands?" I asked, piling cheese and pork on a slice of good rye, "Did his human moiety ever emerge?"

"I don't know," Rahm answered, expression distant, "It never rose the lights again and I was afraid it would change its mind if I reached for my second lighter. Sitting in the dark for hours, the great monster writing away, my best friend abandoned me for the toilet-- by the Lady, I've only been that afraid for that long a few times. He may have given me new direction for the flying machine, but he may have taken a fucking year off my life."

"Same," I admitted. Rahm narrowed his eyes at me.

"You have many more to spare."

"That is true and it is not my fault. I say if I do not begin taking Ilganyag's suggestions with more caution going forward, it may not matter. Sometimes I cannot tell if she is trying to get me killed, or merely to humble me. Try these apples, there is some rum in them."

My friend moved a few to his plate. He picked at them with little interest. "What does she say about all this?"

"She is amused," I sighed, "But largely silent. I think she and the Agib in the Dark have some history. She wishes me to instruct you to keep its existence a secret."

"I already promised it the same. Senets and their mysteries."

"Aye."

Night was falling. The fishermen had already docked and I could hear the shout and clamour of the lads unloading their catch. We'd stay one more night there, then hire a vliegeng to take us over the mountain in the morning. I thought again about that mountain; the sacred mountain from the top of which, it was said, all pymary had sprung. What had the Tains given the Agib for it? Surely more than light; more than rings.

"I thought you were after the same thing I was," I baited, pouring my friend a second glass.

"So did I."

"Lose your nerve? I say, men accosting senets for information on how to raise their loved ones must be the most tedious trope to them."

Rahm shook his head. "Didn't you listen to it? We can't shape the garden, Bastion. To attempt to… it would kill the world. Death is a part of it. There is no undoing it. But if I finish the flying machine, then… then there was a point to what happened. There was a reason."

He put the wine to his lips. He never said if he cared for the apples.

I'll be honest with you, my dear and patient readers: my friend's answer stuck in my throat like a stone. It sits there still, and galls me when I visit them; when Iori is fingering her gaudy ugly necklace sadly, and Rahm has red eyes after a late night in his workshop. To look for a reason is to look for your own madness. There is no purpose and no reason. We pattern-seeking rodents exhaust ourselves in pursuit of melody within this maelstrom, but there's only noise, and our ringing ears. There is no purpose and no reason, Rahm.

Yet I know he must live each day acting as if there is. That is the thin membrane of sanity we all tread upon so heavily but so carefully, trying not to snap through.

I love my friend Rahm Ripa.

But I will not be put off by the arrogance and tyranny of created things; things that have seen firsthand what the determination of the grown thing can accomplish. Do you remember it tucked away hiding in its own shit? Do you remember? Something brought to great ruin, that Agib in the Dark. Something rent its breast and broke its wings. Was it another senet? Or was it someone wielding our clever pymarics, and our constructed weaponry, and our determination to obtain the tools we need to shape the garden for ourselves?

I don't know for certain, reader; but I ask you to believe with me, sincerely and with your whole heart, that it was one of us.