#what we may mend ask

[bohemian-nights]

I wonder if Alicent and Laena will become friends. They could talk sh!t about their husbands, get all emotional over their children (and potential grandchildren) and they both just really really need a friend (and some support).

They both really do need a friend and they do have the built in connection of having sh*tty Targaryen men as husbands. I doubt Laena had any other girls around her growing up(she only had her brother and all her cousins were boys). Alicent hasn’t had a friend since she married king crusty so I can definitely see the Laena and Alicent gal-pals untied vision 👍🏽

[nateconnolly]

[Image ID:

A picture that says “A student once asked anthropologist Margaret Mead, “What is the earliest sign of civilization? The student expected her to say a clay pot, a grinding stone, or maybe a weapon. 

Margaret Mead thought for a moment, then she said, “A healed femur.”

The second picture is a news headline. It is bolded and a much larger font. “27-year-old who couldn’t afford $1,200 insulin copay dies after trying cheaper version.”

The third picture is the same font and size as the Margaret Mead quote. It’s a continuation. It says, “A femur is the longest bone in the body, linking hip to knee. In societies without the benefits of modern medicine, it takes about six weeks of rest for a fractured femur to heal. A healed femur shows that someone cared for the injured person, did their hunting and gathering, stayed with them, and offered physical protection and human companionship until the injury could mend.” 

The fourth picture is another headline. It is in a large and bolded type. “Dying man who couldn’t afford to go to hospital after vomiting blood"

The fifth picture is a screenshot of the Margaret Mead story.

Mead explained that where the law of the jungle—the survival of the fittest—rules, no healed femurs are found. The first sign of civilization is compassion, seen in a healed femur. 

The next screenshot is of a slightly different font. The letters are pointier and the lines are a little curvier. It says, “Susan Finley returned to her job at a Walmart retail store in Grand Junction Colorado, after having to call in sick because she was recovering from pneumonia.

The day after she returned, the fifty three  year old received her ten year associate award — and was simultaneously laid off, according to her family. She had taken off one day beyond what is permitted by Walmart’s attendance policy.

After losing her job in May 2016, Finley also lost her health insurance coverage and struggled to find a new job. Three months later, Finley was found dead in her apartment after avoiding going to see a doctor for flu-like symptoms. 

A screenshot of a bold, bigger headline. It says ‘The house always wins’: Insurers’ record profits.

A final screenshot of smaller text with a slightly gray background. It says “We are at our best when we serve others. Be civilized.” /end ID.] 

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Alastor x fem! reader

Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale

Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism

_____

Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"

"Yeah, thoughts?"

"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.

But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.

Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.

"How was your day, mon amour?"

"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."

Silence.

And not even radio silence.

"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.

But announcing their relationship to him?

He could see it ending in flames.

"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."

"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.

"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.

Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.

"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."

Alastors eye twitch, "now that's our business, isn't it?"

"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."

Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.

A perfect match.

(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.

How sweet.

"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.

"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.

"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.

"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?

Honestly, Lucifer feared that.

Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.

He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.

He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.

"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"

"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.

And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.

And placed it away from hers.

"Uh, dad-"

"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."

"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."

"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"

"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."

That's when he saw it.

That look.

Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.

It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.

"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."

"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.

The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.

"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.

"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.

Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.

"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.

"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.

There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.

"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."

That look, it made her softly gasp.

"Alast-"

"Ew."

Right.

Lucifer.

He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.

"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.

He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.

"Maybe."

Sick bastard.

_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _

"Fuck! Alastor!"

(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.

"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.

"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.

"Al?"

"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.

"But you-"

Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.

"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.

Her body displayed on the bed, Alastor agreed.

"And stay in that form. It suits you."

[kayesfanfics]

Hi there! May I request an Adrian x reader where he's in need of comfort, so he asks (maybe shyly) if he can sit in her lap, even though she's smaller? She holds him gently, soothing him in any way she can?

Thank you for your consideration ❤️

A/N: YESSSS MY BABY BOY NEEDS COMFORT SO BADLY AND THIS IS SUCH A CUTE PROMPT<3

You and Adrian had been spending days on end cleaning up the castle, disposing of bodies after the battle and mopping up the blood, mending torn drapery and broken artifacts. The work was tiring, both physically and emotionally for Adrian. Having to go through his destroyed childhood home where he had killed his own father hurt him like nothing before, feeling the melancholic feeling of nostalgia waving over him as he wandered the halls of his childhood home, avoiding his old bedroom like the plague. You didn’t clean that room up yet, not wanting to overstep any boundaries before Adrian was ready. He was very quiet and solemn, as expected from someone going through his situation, but you made sure he wasn’t alone for it. You made sure he ate, would hold him as the both of you slept, would offer him a shoulder to cry on when he needed it.

On a day like the past few weeks, you were at the table sorting through dried herbs in the kitchen while Adrian was working elsewhere in the castle. It was so empty and silent and dreary in the castle, even being alone for a little bit made you feel uneasy, knowing it once housed a loving family. In the dreaded silence, you heard Adrian’s shows against the floor from the doorway behind you, and saw his shadow loom from the torches in the hallway.

“What’s on your mind, my love?” You asked without turning around, hearing his footstep get closer to you before a pair of thin, pale arms wrapped around your shoulders and a chin rested on your head.

“I’m not sure. My mind is just wandering right now.” He replied with little emotion, compelling you to set down everything you were sorting and turn to face him. His beautiful face was solemn and stern, his eyes puffy as if he had been crying, and his sweet lips in a tight frown. He looked as if he were about to cry right there in front of you, his eyes not meeting yours and looking down, as if he were ashamed to cry in front of you.

“My love?” You repeated, a hand moving to hold one of his, causing him to snap out of his thoughts and finally look you in the eyes with his own teary ones.

“May I…may I sit in your lap?” He asked with a trembling voice and a blush across his face. You told him ‘of course’ and moved so he could, wrapping your arms around his waist as he kept his around your shoulders. He took a deep breath of relief before letting out a shaky breath, slowly dissolving into tears as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You immediately held him tighter, moving one of your hands to rub his back as you buried your own face in his hair. You felt his body tremble against your own, his tears already soaking your blouse as he held onto you tightly, as if you’d disappear into thin air at any moment.

“Shhhhh, I know, darling.” You cooed, kissing his clothes shoulder as you yourself began to tear up. It hurt so much seeing the man you loved be so distraught and lost, stuck in a mourning phase he couldn’t escape. The two of you sat like that for what felt like forever until his sobs melted into sniffles, finally out of tears to cry.

“Adrian?”

“Y-Yes?”

“I love you. So much. You know that, right?”

“O-Of course.” He pulled away from the crook of your neck and you wiped any tears left away from his pretty face, holding it in your hands as he leaned into your touch. “I love you, too, Y/N.”

“How about we go to bed early tonight? I just want to hold you.”

“I would like that very much.”

[dystopyx-blog]

more yandere octotrio!

Dedicated to @mr-trick <3 ty for your support

"Your grades have been slipping."

When you had been called into Azul's office, you certainly weren't expecting him to scold you like a parent. To add insult to, well, insult, Jade and Floyd were there, too, and the latter couldn't stop themselves from snickering.

"I wasn't aware that was any of your business." You shot back. You didn't bother asking how he knew–you'd had twin eels trailing you since Azul's overblot. It was rare for you to go anywhere these days without the sight of one looming at you from this distance. If their heights didn't make them obvious enough, there was the eyes. Though you had a feeling stealth wasn't the goal.

You'd be right. The tweels found it very important that you knew they were close by. Azul may have preferred for them to be stealthier, but they enjoyed your reactions too much. Plus, their presence kept others away. It's probably why Azul let them continue.

But back to the scene at hand.

Azul's response comes naturally, almost too naturally–as if he was prepared for that response. "Of course it is. The success of Night Raven students has always been my business–"

The look you hit him with was enough to stop him in his tracks.

He chuckled, adjusting his tie and his approach. "Of course, business has changed in recent times. In the past the goal was to attract as many poor unfortunate souls as I could, offering contracts with the goal to better myself, and not them. But now I've mended my ways and made a switch, so to speak. Now I wish to truly help and better those I come into contact with, starting with those I already feel close or indebted to. And what better first than the one who helped me see the light in the first place."

He waited for your response, but you offered none. Not unless you included your suspicion.

"Look, business has been rough lately since the incident, and helping you seems like the best way to restore people's faith in me."

"And thus the truth comes out."

You were so proud of yourself for sussing him out. What you didn't know is that that wasn't the truth–like at all. He didn't give a fuck what the other students thought of him, especially since he was still getting business regardless. This was about you and spending time with you, the strange, magicless student that had caught his attention like a worm on a hook. Buy to you, that would be even harder to believe than an act of true goodwill.

But that didn't matter anyway, because he had you. You agreed to help him out of the goodness of your heart–taking the opportunity to mock him. It was difficult for Azul to keep the smirk from his face as you fell into his hand. He could tell the twins felt the same way. Even if he couldn't see then standing behind him, he could still tell when Jade's gloved hand went to cover his smile, and when Floyd's slight sway stilled just enough to zero in on you.

With that, a deal had been made: you let Azul help you out of the "goodness of his heart," and you spread the word of Azul's redemption arc.

As soon as you're gone, Azul lets an easy smirk spill onto his face like oil in water.

"We got 'em boys."

What would follow is a series of study sessions, every night, either with Floyd, Jade, or Azul himself. Study session with Floyd rarely involve studying. Sometimes you would start with studying, but he’d always end up getting bored at some point, and then declare you two would be doing something else. Other times, you wouldn’t even get a chance to study, as he’d already be dragging you off somewhere before you can even set your stuff down. Floyd, being Floyd, ‘something else’ could include anything depending on his mood. Some examples of activities you’ve done during study sessions with Floyd: karaoke, ping pong, pottery, a treasure hunt all over the school for something Floyd lost a while ago and had suddenly remembered at that moment (it was in his pocket), ballroom dance classes, shopping, video games, baking. You don’t even bring any study materials with you at this point.

Jade and Azul are more what you’d expect from tutors.

Jade’s method of tutoring is hands off. He mostly just has you do your homework while he sits across from you, working on his own stuff. And if you don’t have homework or finish before study time is up, he’ll give you readings and practice assignments to do. He encourages you to ask him questions whenever you have them, but for the most part, you two are silent. What you don’t realize is that he actually spends most of the time just staring at you. Studying you.

Azul is more hands on. Like with Jade, youre expected to either work on a class assignment, or one of Azul’s specially crafted study guides. Unlike Jade, who always sits across from you, Azul sits—or, more often, stands—next to you. Instead of just silently watching you work, Azul works you through each problem. He’ll often end up hovering next to you, sometimes taking your writing hand in his to guide you through whatever problem you’re working on. He also offers coffee/tea/snack breaks, where you two can just talk, not just about schoolwork, but anything else.

You’re spending every night with one of them. You often get back to Ramshackle late (especially if it was a session with Floyd). You don’t see Horns as much, if at all. Study sessions with your freshman friends become almost nonexistent. Even Grim is starting to see less and less of you everyday.

Who you end up spending the most time with is, of course, the Octotrio. Not just for nightly study sessions anymore. Floyd will approach you outside of tutoring for fun activities. Jade often offers you treats for doing so well, including trips to Sam’s and lunch at Mostró Lounge—all on him, of course. And Azul often pops in to check in on you—to make sure you’re holding up your side of the deal. And, even if you don’t realize it, there’s always at least one of them waiting to walk you to class.

It’s no secret that Azul basically always has business on the brain. And this? This was his strategic move to monopolize you, and he got you hook, line, and sinker.

[wilcze-kudly]

I am definetly in the minority here, but I was always so deeply touched by Mai's confession during that scene.

There's just something about Mai's confession that makes me feel so unbearably sad. I think the first thing that hits me is just how... empty she seems in this situation compared to the rest of the Firesome Foursome. Zuko is angry™️ and lashing out, Ty Lee is sad and concerned and Azula is posturing. But Mai is just so devoid of even sadness around her chidlhood trauma.

It's sort of like she shut down emotionally to some extent, (even more than usual) especially after her fight with Zuko.

This is quite a common reaction to arguments from someone who was raised to be obedient and non-confrontational, so I'm not surprised she was acting like this.

Analysing Mai's behaviour on the beach is interesting.

She seems to try to reach out to Zuko in her own, tepid little way by greeting him, but clams back up when he asks her where "her new boyfriend" was. This leads to her smacking his hand away when he tries to reach out to her by asking if she's cold. They're both trying to mend the bridge, but end up escalating the conflict further.

She remains silent for a good while, but does speak up in order to defend Ty Lee from Zuko lashing out. Despite this, when Zuko persists, Mai doesn't push the issue, perhaps due to her upbringing to be placid.

Due to this, I find it intriguing when Mai mocks Ty Lee for attention seeking, since she had attempted to defend Ty Lee from Zuko's ridicule. But perhaps its due to jealousy or frustration by Ty Lee's freely expressed sorrow and trauma that made Mai lash out in her own way.

Or it's just because the writers didn't know how to jump from Ty Lee's traumadump to Mai's lol

This is where we get into the meat and potatoes of Mai's confession.

Ty Lee bites back at Mai and parrots Zuko's opinion of Mai being "a big blah" as he said.

Ty Lee : Well, what's your excuse, Mai? You were an only child for fifteen years, but even with all that attention, your aura is this dingy, pasty, gray ... Mai : I don't believe in auras. Zuko: Yeah, you don't believe in anything. Mai : Oh, well, I'm sorry I can't be as high-strung and crazy as the rest of you. Zuko: I'm sorry, too. I wish you would be high-strung and crazy for once instead of keeping all your feelings bottled up inside. She just called your aura dingy. Are you gonna take that?

I think what's interesting here is that while Ty Lee saw Mai as recieving the attention Ty Lee had craved, Mai seemed to receive less loving, parental attention, and more scrutiny. Mai's parents also seem to be actually rather neglectful emotionally towards Mai and them just leaving Tom Tom unsupervised behind a screen in Omashu leaves me questioning if they actually cared that much.

Mai deflects, not adressing Ty Lee's question, but rather focusing on the nebulous concept of auras instead. When Zuko butts in, trying to rile her up, Mai gives a sarcastic apology. I find it very interesting that she sets hereself so aside from the others in terms of her not being "high strung and crazy", because it really shows the difference in Mai's upbringing and that of her companions. Azula and Zuko were raised to be leaders and fighters, and their "firebender instincts" were encouraged, while Ty Lee persumably had to compete for attention with her siblings. While Mai was raised with the :be seen and not heard" mentality.

Now is also a good time to mention that I think Mai has almost comically obvious signs of depression, which wouldn't be a stretch.

Zuko calling Mai out for not getting angry over Ty Lee insulting her aura leads me to my next point. Persumably, being a child raised by parents like Michi and Ukano, Mai wasn't allowed to voice her discomfort, offence or upset. Hell we see this in Omashu when Mai complains about being bored and Michi basically shuts her down and tells her to enjoy it.

I mean look at the expression Michi gives Mai when she starts complaining about being bored, a very normal teenager thing to do.

And when Mai finally does speak her mind, it is no less heartwrenching.

Mai : What do you want from me? You want a teary confession about how hard my childhood was? Well, it wasn't. I was a rich only child who got anything I wanted... as long as I behaved and sat still, and didn't speak unless spoken to. My mother said I had to keep out of trouble. We had my dad's political career to think about.

The first thing that jumps out at us is how Mai presents her trauma. She doesn't explicitly express any pain or sadness, despite it being rather obvious to us. This is in stark contrast to the rest of the group. Ty Lee and Zuko are both very open about their negative emotions, hell, even Azula admits that Ursa's actions hurt her.

But Mai? Mai kneecaps her complaint. This can also be seen as an effect of her upbringing. No complaining, no making herself inconvenient for mom and dad.

We also see the theme of conditional love, an implied idea that Michi and Ukano would only give Mai affection or gifts if she acted the way they wanted her to. Now conditional love from people who are meant to raise you will fuck you up.

The comics also add that Michi actively told Mai scary stories about the Kemurimage to keep her in line. Now, telling kids stories about magical beings to get them to behave isn't anything new, but it appears to be so bad that Mai had nightmares over it. Also we're in a world where spirits actually exist, evil chidnapper spirits don't seem too far out the realm of possibility.

Also as someone who got raised by a heavily Catholic mother who made me believe I would burn in hell for an eternity if I even mildly displeased her, I do sympathise

Azula: Well, that's it, then. You have a controlling mother who had certain expectations, and if you strayed from them, you were shut down. That's why you're afraid to care about anything, and why you can't express yourself. Mai : You want me to express myself? [Stands up and yells.] Leave me alone! Zuko: I like it when you express yourself. [Approaching, attempting to put a hand on her shoulder.] Mai : Don't touch me! I'm still mad at you. Zuko: My life hasn't been that easy either, Mai. Mai: Whatever. That doesn't excuse the way you've been acting.

I love when Mai yells at Azula for frying to psychoanalyse her. Like Azula was right, but it understandably upset Mai, and it's a good thing she expressed that. It means she's growing.

I also do adore that Mai does not let Zuko get away with acting out, particularly towards her. I like that the writer's didn't just have Mai give Zuko a free pass because he had a shitty life and she actively called him out on his actions. It's probably my favourite part of their relationship. And Mai expressing so much anger and upset is a perfect crescendo to her little scene.

I don't know why but Mai confession scene just holds so much weight and emotion for me, I can't help but feel something whenever I watch it.

Also, side note, I find it an interesting detail that Azula's confession only came after the fire was extinguished. Perhaps it wasn't intentional but it kinda feels like its symbolising that the light "went out" for Azula (at least narrativewise) and that while Zuko, Ty Lee and Mai would be able to get out of their shitty situations and from under the Fire Nation's influence, she would not.

[shinsources-archived]

sacred romantic moments

“ don’t go. stay. “

“ but you’re here, so stay. “

“ i don’t want to be alone tonight. “

“ just come over. “

“ let’s be alone together. “

“ i didn’t know where else to go. “

“ i don’t want us to be apart anymore. ever. “

“ i wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t important. “

“ you can talk to me about anything. you know that, right? “

“ just… be honest with me, do you hate me? “

“ i could never hate you. not really. “

“ you’re my friend, but… sometimes i wish you were more than that. “

“ we’re not just friends. you know that. “

“ i think i’m falling in love with you. “

“ can i hold your hand? “

“ yeah, you’re in love with me. “

“ just hold me. “

“ things would be so much easier if we were honest with each other. “

“ why can’t you be honest with me? with yourself? “

“ maybe you could stay? just for tonight? “

“ it’s dark outside, and it’s raining. my arms are much safer. “

“ you can’t keep doing this. you can’t keep lying to yourself. “

“ i can’t keep lying to myself, or to you. it’s not fair on either of us. “

“ i think you should kiss me. “

“ kiss me like you mean it. “

“ just kiss me. “

“ you shouldn’t kiss me right now. “

“ look me in the eyes and tell me you love me. “

“ you can’t lie to me, you know. “

“ you know me better than anyone. you always have. “

“ you’re pretty amazing. you know that, right? “

“ you’re just… you’re extraordinary. “

“ you’re good to me, you know. really good. “

“ you’ve made me the happiest i’ve ever been. “

“ i don’t know what i would have done if you weren’t here. “

“ our love can conquer anything. “

“ and for many generations to come, our love story will live on. “

“ i want you to marry me. “

“ if you asked me to marry you tomorrow, i’d say yes. “ “ what about today? “

“ marry me, name. marry me and make me the luckiest [x] in the world. “

“ your kiss could mend a broken heart. “

“ are you going to kiss me again, or do i have to do it myself? “

“ i could cry, that’s how much i love you. “

“ you’re worthy of my love. “

“ truth is that i’m so damn in love with you that i don’t know what to do with myself. “

“ maybe tonight, it’s you and me. “

“ i don’t know what the future holds. all i know is that i hope you’re in it. “

“ could you promise me one thing? “

“ promise me that we’ll be together, no matter what. “

“ it’s you and me, forever. no matter what. “

“ i didn’t want to tell you until i was sure, but… i’m pregnant. “

“ we’re going to be family! “

“ this baby, it’s the best thing that could ever have happened to us. “

“ i can’t believe this, we’re going to be parents! “

“ dance with me? “

“ may i have this dance? “

“ you’re my whole world, you know. “

“ don’t speak, just… kiss me. “

“ you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to that. “

“ i’ve been wanting to tell you for so long… “

“ so… is this like, a thing now? “

“ i always miss you, even when you’re next to me. “

” i miss you. i miss you so much it hurts. ”

” i don’t want you to miss me. it’s tearing me apart. ”

“ you make me happier. “

“ i love waking up next to you. “

“ my favorite thing is falling asleep next to you. “

“ come cuddle with me. “

“ this is torture, isn’t it? “ “ not in the slightest. “

“ do you love me? “

“ could this be something more? “

“ move in with me. “

“ do you think we should move in together? you spend all your time here anyway. “

“ are you serious? i’ve had a crush on you for as long as i can remember. “

“ i know you’re in love with me. “

“ you’re really cute, you know. “

“ you’re so damn attractive. you know that right? “

“ if anybody were to kiss me, i would want that person to be you. “

“ and right now, i think you should kiss me. “

[sirenmoontarot]

Shadow reading 🪞🥀🌑

What shadow aspect is affecting your life that you need to be aware of?

Hi! I am Alla, and today i pulled some ancient treasures from my hidden chest. Let’s see what the Oracles have to tell you! 🌊🐚🔮🌑

𝑀𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓅 ~ 𝒫𝓈𝓎𝒸𝒽𝒾𝒸 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ~ 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈

1. Bracelet

NEGATIVE REINFORCEMENT PATTERN

For those who picked this group, you guys might often get stuck in a negative reinforcement pattern; it may be in one aspect of your life or to your life in general. The reality is that you are doing what you are doing, not because you really want to do it but to avoid something that you don't want. Instead of doing what you are doing to get something that you DO want, you are more motivated by negative stimuli such as fear and insecurities to do what you are currently doing than by a goal or actual aspiration. This can also lead you to feel lost in life and make you seem like you are just running away from things without a clear compass north of having a firm grasp of what you want, being that the reason for what you do. This can also lead you to resentment and unfulfillment in your life.. For people in this group, the advice is to be less fearful and insecure and instead ask yourself what you really want to do.

2. Blue and white seashell

AUTHENTICITY

For the people that have chosen this group, the shadow and karmic aspect you need to work on is authenticity. You are not being authentic with who you are, nor are you being honest about yourself with anyone. Each person comes with a unique essence, like an energetic signature, and our unique purpose, thoughts, feelings, unique desires, needs, and role within the greater universe are embedded in that essence. Growing up we are made to believe that if we are certain way, we will be punished, and therefore it sends a message to our unconscious that showing the truth of ourselves is unsafe. That we have to mold ourselves in order to be acceptable and therefore, loved. Anything that is rejected becomes something we are vulnerable about, and then we become split, and hide those parts. We can only be authentic to the degree that we know ourselves, for this reason, it is important to look inside of yourself. Aunthenticity is when your inside matches your outside. It is the conscious mending of the incoherences and incongruences between your inner self and outer self; what you do and project to the world. You have to face yourself, the shame you feel about your vulnerabilities because you can only make a change to what is real. Unless you know and admit to what you really think, feel, and want to do, you are in an illusion, and you can't get anywhere. It is like building a castle in the air, it will crumble. What do you really think, feel, need, and want to do? What is real?

3. Pearlescent box

YOU DON'T KNOW BUT YOU THINK YOU KNOW

For the people who chose this pile, you guys often fall in this shadow aspect of thinking and believing you know the truth about a situation, what is going on in your life, but in reality, you don't know. The truth is far behind from what you are interpreting it. Or it can happen because you miss an important piece of information that can make you misinterpret a situation. It can make us misguide ourselves, making our lives harder. In this case is important that you allow some outside input, and not create barriers with others in order to listen to them, despite that sometimes we think we may have more knowledge than others, more experience, and its legit! But for you guys, sometimes you fall in this psychic trap that makes you stuck, and misjuding situations. And the truth is that, the reality might actually be better than you expect! To heal this, you need to accept that you are having a subjective view, thinking it is an objective one. You need to allow yourself to consider other people's perspectives, or other ways to approach the situation to enrich your view and actually see the reality of the matter, which is not what you are thinking, or telling yourself it is.

4. Greenish seashell

THE FAULTY COMPASS

For the people that chose this group, what you need to see is that sometimes, your emotions, instead of serving as an accurate guide--an inner compass pointing towards north— they mislead you. You might think they are a real perception of reality, of your truth, but in reality they are not. You might even confuse them with intuition, a gut feeling... Due to past experiences, your inner compass has been distorted and messed up, due to many reasons; thoughts passed on to us, information we are fed, beliefs we are conditioned to adopt, experiences we lived and the meaning we assigned to those experiences... Sometimes when all that emotion overwhelms you about a situation, it most likely is the faulty compass at work. It is important you get in contact with yourself again, with your personal truth, and with your emotions, to understand the why of those emotions to find alignment again and follow your internal guidance system, that will accurately lead you to happiness and fulfillment.

5. Silver hand mirror

THE FILTER

For you guys, you tend to see everything with a negative, detrimental or limiting filter. This can happen to certain situations in life or is it a general habit you have. This filter it is something that distorts your ability to see the truth, what is real about a situation. This can happen due to past experiences that condition and shape the way we see and live life. This can happen about anything, in jobs, relationships, etc. There can be beneficial or detrimental filters, but what we should know about them is that they make you believe your subjective perspective is an objective perspective of the situation. To avoid this, when you find yourself with the lens of this detrimental filter, you can understand why and how this filter appeared, and consider every other perspective of the situations at hand to get a more objective truth, and therefore make better decisions.

6. Seashell brooch

SELF H4RM

For you guys, who chose this pile, the shadow aspect that you need to be aware of, is how you engage in self-h4rm in many forms and multiple ways in your life. You might be used to being very harsh on yourself, not allowing yourself to be happy, to give you, or even feel deserving of what you want. You might think that by punishing yourself you will never do the same mistake again, or that you can do penance and be more likely to restore a sense of your goodness. If we grew up in antagonized households, we often learned negative mechanisms to cope with those situations that your child self didn't have the ways to properly handle. We maybe blamed yourself for what wasn't your fault just to avoid feeling powerless or like a victim , or to stay close and feel connected and loved by the person who hurt you. Or we may also be even making choices that harm us in favor of other people's best interests. If you chose this pile, be more aware of the ways you harm yourself, and ask yourself the question ''What would someone who loves themselves do?''

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

Thank you so much for reading 🤍 wishing you love, and lots of blessings 💖🌌

🔮 Visit my shop to get a detailed reading, and more services!

Alla 𓇬 @sirenmoontarot

Beautiful pngs from @saizun

[hamliet]

Excited for your thoughts on the bnha ending

Also I’ll be honest I dropped this like 200 chs ago and I’ve just kept up through your metas because I was so disillusioned with the manga 🥲 I even sold my copies

it's a bit bittersweet to see bnha handled this way. sometimes i think we'll get a promising continuation from the author which is major cope for me T.T

fix its are otw but damn it doesn't mend that it ended this way rn

Diff asks, answering together.

Not saying too much because there's not much to be said besides that a friend who wrote a meta who won't post it (to all our detriment!) said it best last week: this story is cowardly. It's afraid to say or do anything because it wants to make everyone happy and realized it can't, so now it just wants to make no one upset, but everyone's upset.

I feel sad for Horikoshi. His recent interviews are quite depressing, and he seems burned out and done with his own manga in a way that makes Gege look enthusiastic about JJK.

Like, he doesn't confirm Touya dead or alive--which frankly I will take--but leaves it up to the reader to decide. Is the doctor's word final, or is Touya crying a symbol of healing since he previously couldn't? I know which one I choose to believe, but this way people can choose to fit the manga into their personal beliefs. He's trying to say nothing to avoid rocking the boat. And that's just sad, especially when we consider what likely contributed to that.

Which is to say, on a purely story level, the story has no power. There's being open to other perspectives and then there's not having a message. This is sadly the latter. It's a mess. Deku "heroes save" doesn't save, but he's still heroic, but that line isn't demolished or destroyed. AFO may be dead, but he won in the end because what he used to taunt Deku came true. Deku's character is nothing more than a vehicle--no struggle, no emotional climax, no principles. The ships are not even confirmed because the story can't even commit to the obvious Ochaco/Deku (which I dislike even!) for fear of angering other loud shippers. Society is the problem, but also the answer. The hero system is the problem, but also the answer. It's not a paradox because it doesn't explain the layers at play here. It's just noodles that have cooked far too long and turned into a congealed mess.

The only message I can take from it is "yay authoritarianism" which I'm going to hope Horikoshi is saying accidentally (and most likely is). It's as meaningless as GoT season 8, and TROS, and that's not good company to be in.

[saatorubby]

Cultural differences

Summary: Malleus's way of courting (dragon fae style) creates a misunderstanding between the two of you.

Or in which lilia is an old man™ and is having the time of his life.

A/n: In honor of the announcement of chapter 7, I decided to post this early. May all of you dragon simps get your dragon man. (it's me, I'm the dragon simps)

Genre: fluff

Pairings: Malleus Draconia x reader

Warnings: second person pov, you/your pronouns, gn!reader

"Lilia, child of man doesn't make sense." Malleus was munching on fries, with a pout on his face. He was apparently, what lilia called 'sulking'. Let me assure you he was not! Absolutely not!

Lilia brought up his hand to his face to stifle a chuckle that escaped him at the sulking fae prince, who put another one of the fries in his mouth.

Lilia finds situations like these quite entertaining, he loves observing the youth of today. They are peculiar, to say the least.

Though lilia understands malleus's crisis, he couldn't help but be amused.

After all, how many times do you see a powerful fae at his knees for a magic-less human he befriended in an abandoned building.

"Well, tell me what happened," Lilia said with as much seriousness he could muster and put his teacup down.

Malleus' eyes lit up and he visibly perked up about getting the chance to talk about how he have been trying to court you.

"I took prefect for a walk with me in the woods behind ramshackle where we danced to once upon a dream." He lets out a dreamy sigh, his chin resting on the back of his hand.

What a wonderful night that was.

The sky seemed jewel studded with how many stars there were. Your warm hand in his considerably colder ones. An impulse to hold you closer. So he asked you for a dance to which you delightfully agreed, blush adorning your face. He will never forget the night when you two sang the greatest love song in all of the twisted wonderland together while dancing.

Eyes his went to your lips many times, but he was afraid he would scare you if became too bold so he restrained himself.

"It was good until that but then I tried to give them jewels from my treasury as a token of my affection, but they keep refusing! I don't know what I've done to anger them. I just wish to mend our relationship, lilia." Malleus let out a defeated sigh his lips formed into an adorable pout.

Lilia knew the meaning of the word treasury, what malleus really meant was his hoard. Like every good dragon, malleus has a hoard as well. It has all of the knick-knacks malleus collected over the long period he has been in twisted wonderland.

Let it be jewels worth millions of madols or a weird thing he found on the street, all of them has a special place in his hoard. He was allowed to take a part of it with him to Night Raven College when he came, the rest is in his treasury room in the palace of Briar Valley.

Lilia, who was far older than Malleus and well aware of human courting traditions, couldn't help but laugh endearingly at the young prince. He then adjusted his expression, looking fondly at the child he had raised, who had now become so old that he has his first love!

Oh...Lilia distantly remembers the feeling of falling in love for the first time, he doesn't remember his first love anymore, for their existence had been erased by the cruel, cruel time that doesn't spare anybody, but he does remember how he felt with them and how gentle they were with him.

At the time he was a battle-hardened General, a war hero, not exactly used to kindness, but he remembers that they were far kinder than anybody he had met before, even now after a few centuries later, he has yet to meet someone like them.

Lilia pulled himself back from memories of long forgotten past and turned to his prince.

"Malleus, they are human." Lilia said simply.

"I am aware lilia, I still dont see what I could have done to have them cross with me." Malleus gave lilia a half-hearted glare.

"Malleus, they are human. You are trying to court them like how dragons court their mate. They don't know how dragons court their mate. They aren't familiar with your courting methods." Lilia nodded towards malleus sipping on his tea, and malleus' eyes widened in realization. Of course! How could he have been so foolish!

Malleus shot lilia a grateful look and said a simple "thank you." And headed out to find you. He must fix this. He has to.

So, you weren't even aware that he was trying to court you? He let out a chuckle.

Of course, why didn't he think of it before? Oh yes, he was too engrossed in drowning in his misery that he didn't notice.

Well, he supposes it's not all lost, after all. He could just explain things, but ah! Humans don't receive precious jewels as a confession of their feelings.

He does have other ideas as to what to give you.

You were coming back from your class, after a long and exhausting day. Professor Trein had given you to write a ten-thousand-word essay on The Human-Fae War that happened in early 1300's.

Your face bloomed into an amused smile as grim grumbled about ace taking his sandwich. You let out an exasperated sigh. They may be idiots, but they are your idiots.

You got grim settled in the bed quickly. He was complaining about not getting enough sleep the whole way back and got yourself settled on the couch in the living room.

You took out your homework, your assignment sheets as well as books you've borrowed from the library and got to work.

It was fascinating really, how two species that hated each other so much could come together like this. Humans and Fae...they have a long-standing history of hate and slaughter. It's gruesome.

The war went on for almost a century.

You were halfway through the essay when, from the corner of your eyes, you saw green fireflies shimmering in your garden. You abandoned your work to greet your friend who, you're pretty sure, has been avoiding you for the past few days.

"Tsunotaro."

"Child of man."

The two of you stared at each other for a minute. Trying to read each other, either by expressions or literally trying to read thoughts in Malleus's case. (He would never do this without your permission, but he was contemplating it)

"Look I-"

"Child of man I-"

"...."

"You go first."

"You can go first."

You scratched the back of your neck with an air of awkwardness surrounding you.

"Okay...tsunotaro, I don't know what I did so that you got mad at me but I am sorry."

Malleus' eyes widened in bewilderment.

"Child of man...I thought you were cross with me." You thought he was angry with you...? A small tender smile formed on his black-painted lips. A smile that was much different from his usual teasing smile followed by a taunting remark. How the corners gently tilted upwards, a sparkle in his eyes that reflected an emotion you couldn't yet place, but you were sure that your eyes reflected the same.

Small laughter bubbled out of his mouth, and not being able to help it you let yourself chuckle with him.

The sound of his laughter was so alluring that you were left wondering whether he had put a spell on you.

Little did you know he wondered the same about you. You had either bewitched him or he was a fool, a fool in love.

"Well, then, I shall make it up to you, beastie. Would you do me the honor of granting me your company for a stroll in the woods once again?" Malleus asked, gallantly. He was quite over the top with his dramatics -posing in a bow, holding out a hand for you to take- while smiling teasingly.

"I would love to, tsunotaro." You couldn't help but chuckle at the dragon fae's antics. Taking his arm you strode along with him to the woods behind Ramshackle.

A gentleman as ever, Malleus produced something in his arm but hid it behind his back before you could take a peek.

"Hey! No fair!" You pouted, seeing your adorable face the future king couldn't help but smile endearingly.

"You shall wait patiently beastie. Patience is a virtue," he said as you strode towards your and Malleus's special place.

He had taken you there for a walk before once. It was a beautiful, beautiful night. Perhaps you should say magical.

Malleus had taken your hand and invited you for a dance. Holding you close like you were the most precious treasure he has ever held. Spinning you around like a fairytale prince (which he was). Your eyes went to his dark-painted lips many times that night, wishing to have a taste of what you thought to be the most forbidden fruit this world had to offer.

You danced and sang one of the songs from your home. Your eyes went to your eyebrows in surprise that the very same song existed here. Malleus seemed fond of the song as well. You could see his bright green eyes soften every time a word of the lyrics left his lips.

"We are here," he announced. You looked around, finding it hard to imagine such a place could be near the desolate place you had come to call your home.

It was a mountain stream. Beautiful, clear water flowed down the steep grades. Shining moonlight above it, making the water in it shine like stars had been brought down to earth.

"Child of man," Malleus quietly pulled you out of your daze. "I brought this for you." He said, but before he could bring out whatever he had been hiding behind his back, you fixed him a stern look.

"Mal, I told you that I can-" before you could say another word, his hand-that he had placed upon your mouth- cut you off.

"I know," Malleus began with an uncharacteristically tender look on his face. "Lilia explained that humans do not court as we do. So I have brought you this." He removed the hand from your mouth and brought out a bouquet from his back.

They were gorgeous, the flowers. The bouquet consisted of red and pink asters. You chuckled, you couldn't have picked more perfect flowers yourself, they were gorgeous but not enough to distract you from the meaning of them and his words from before.

Seeing your joyous reaction, Malleus's eyes filled with hope. "Child of man, I-" he started but before he could get out another syllable, you put your hand on his mouth and cut him off. Amusedly watching as his eyes widened in surprise, clearly not used to people cutting him off, especially in such a familiar manner.

"I would love to, Tsunotaro."

--

I wish I had a malleus.

Edit: for clarification pink asters mean sensitivity and love and red aster means undying devotion

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #23

A Family Portrait

Imagine dis…

Most of the fanfics and even Tumblr posts are all about the long-lost son of both Bruce Wayne Selina or even Talia, the long-lost brother of either Damian, Tim, Dick, or even Jason. But what if we changed up the timeline?

What if…

…

Damian was just lurking around the manor at a fast pace if the way he looked around, looking for a hiding as Grayson had proposed the idea of playing a simple yet harmless family activity for the family of vigilantes. Grayson had been chatting all week and persuaded each of the imbeciles he calls brothers to join in. Todd was bribed with a no-ask favor from Grayson while Drake was dragged in the hopes of Richard being silent to Alfred about his intake of caffeine despite Alfred’s warnings. Damain already knew that Alfred the butler knew and was merely waiting for Alfred to hide his stash. While Thomas, Brown, Gordon, and Cain did not need more incentive from Grayson. After a quick shouting match from all sides on which activity will be chosen, all of them have chosen a simple hide-and-seek game within the manor as all of them still feel the repercussions of last week’s chosen game which still brings shivers down the assassin’s back every time, he remembers the things that were done in the name of fun family bonding activity.

The moment Drake began counting down all of them began scrambling out of the theater room and to quickly find a decent hiding spot. All of them were trained by Batman and have flourished under his tillage so finding a spot that nobody knew of is going to be hard. Damian knew that despite Drake having prominent eye bags under his eyes, he could not lower his guard in front of him despite his former attitude toward Drake and slowly mending their relationship Damian has some sort of respect, awe, and fear for Drake as this is the same person who had outwitted his grandfather and lived, the one who had fought his grandfather’s assassins and won but you never heard that from him after all if anyone knew what he thought of Drake, his katana will likely to immediately meet that person’s throat.

He thought of asking Alfred for assistance but he refused, he is already at the disadvantage with both Grayson and Todd living in the manor longer thus having found more than hiding spots for them. He already knew that Cain was already hidden in the shadows but he is the Blood son of the Bat and he refused to be the first one to be found.  But then he remembered a short conversation he had with Grayson when he first arrived at the manor. Grayson explained that the attic holds all antiques as well as family heirlooms that were passed down from each generation. It may be covered in a few dusts as Alfred cleans the attic once every blue moon. Grayson explained that the attic was heavily haunted as when he was just a child, he could hear people talking in hushed tones each time he went near the ladder that leads to the attic. When Damian tried to inquire for more information Grayson successfully changed the subject and was merely forgotten up until he saw the secret entrance to the attic of Wayne Manor.

Looking at the hidden ladder that leads to the attic Damian thinks of his decision on the one hand nobody had the same thought of him hiding in the attic due to Grayson the “ghosts” at the attic but on the other, he was about to enter uncharted territory. After a quick deliberation himself, he had already closed the entrance to the attic. After ensuring that nobody had seen him enter, he immediately took a look around to further hide but he couldn’t help to widen his eyes at his surroundings.

Eccentric pieces of marble statues surrounded him that looked suspiciously just some stone slabs, multiple worn-down artworks that looked like a child’s doodle, and scattered boxes of blurry photography, but some artworks and pieces could worth billions such as artworks and vases as if they are from the ancient greek, a different type clocks and a single grandfather clock that have different cuts and sizes of sapphires, diamonds, and gold, multiple chests that were escaping gold coins as the wood seem to rot, a box made out of fine glass that seems to protect a glass egg that holds every shade of blue there is.

As he kept looking around mesmerized by the unnatural decors and riches around him, he soon came across a portrait. A woman whose clothing seems to come from the early 1900s with a neutral expression. Upon closer inspection, Damian saw a nameplate just below the portrait and it says “Elizabeth Rose Wayne” which concludes that this must be one of his ancestors. As Damian let his eyes roam, he saw more portraits from family portraits to single portraits. All seemed to be falling apart due to time, as Damian went deeper as he kept following in deeper each portrait. Up until the last portrait, A tall middle-aged man with grey hair most in his head with grey eyes sitting in a large red velvet chair wearing what looked like a Victorian suit surrounded by what seemed to be his children. A large young man with black wispy hair that was tied in a ponytail with dark blue eyes looking neutral at the painting beside him a young man in his early teens with a mop of black hair and bright blue eyes with freckles adorning his check-looking bored and lastly a young girl with a generous amount of black hair styled to what looked like a modernized coil down to her chin and with baby blue eyes the cheekiest smile and was sitting impatiently on top of what looked like their father. All of them were wearing different Victorian-style suits and dresses that seemed to complement their eyes despite the different shades of each one.

Below the said family portrait were their portraits with each nameplate embedded just below the said portrait.

From the right which Damian had deduced as the oldest a nameplate below that spelled “DANAL” Next the nameplate spelled “DANIEL” Lastly the only female in the portrait spelled “DANIELLE” Damian looked at each of the nameplates and thought which of their parents named them with almost the same spelling of each name and the same meaning all names share in Hebrew that means “God is my judge.”

Whomever the painter was made Damian impressed as he felt all of the portraits were looking straight at him, judging his very being.

…

Meanwhile, Tim had already found the majority of his siblings. They all huddled up to find Damian as they were quite impressed at where he had hidden.

Looking around they have stumbled upon a semi-open door to the attic and have deduced that Damian had hidden there. As soon all of them laid eyes on what the attic contained all of them had a jaw-drop moment as such treasures and artifacts seemingly being stored away like some old clothes in the attic rather than being guarded in a high-level security vault. Jason began asking Dick why he even spread the story about the attic anyway as they could have seen these things much sooner, Dick kept on spluttering that he did hear voices back then.

Soon enough the more they went deeper into the attic they saw Damian looking over at a family portrait of what looked like the first generation or the pioneer of the Waynes. Dick excitedly yelled at Damian for being the last to be found but at the sudden loud noise, Damian accidentally swiped his hand too fast at the nameplate creating a small wound enough to bleed but not too deep, covering some of Damian’s blood at the nameplate.

Damian turned to face Grayson and the rest but he didn’t take notice of the nameplate spelled “DANIEL” that had some of his blood seem to absorb the said blood.

…

The room suddenly engulfed with bright green light with each batfam member immediately covering their eyes due to the onslaught of light.

The moment they started to blink away the black spots dancing at their eyes they immediately noticed that the supposed family portrait was now missing 3 members leaving the supposed father sitting alone in the “family portrait”.

Dick tried to usher his siblings out while panicking out that his rambling back then and now is correct about this part of the manor being haunted.

As the voices of each of them began to overlap with each other creating a loud noise, a single large yawn silenced all of them.

Turning their heads back to the portraits they all zeroed in on the individual portrait in the middle. Exhaling another yet small yawn as he seems to try to blink away his sleepiness. Soon the other portraits beside and above him seem to follow, “DANAL” seems to yawn roughly exposing his pearly white teeth to the still shell-shocked BatFam. “DANIELLE” seemed to yawn and pout at the same time as if she was interrupted in her midday nap time. Lastly, the older gentleman in the now empty family portrait covered his hands as he yawned quietly.

Slowly but surely conversation between each painting seems to start as if this scene is something nothing out of the ordinary, as each portrait talks to the other without noticing the still shell-shocked BatFam in front of them.

As “DANIELLE” seemed to be bored and turned to look in the other direction she immediately noticed at still siblings and harshly told the rest they had guests with them.

Dick, Barbara, Jason, Cass, Tim, Stephanie, Damian and Duke.  They were all trained under the greatest detective, he taught them and told them repeatedly that they need to have their mind at the present moment, every day, every hour, and every minute. This is their best tool, their Mind. They can´t take away their mind. It lives inside of them and is the best weapon that they need to live. Yet it seems all of their collective minds were still in the middle of processing the result of a harmless hide-and-seek family fun time activity.

…

The quartet Halfa of a family had been in the Ghost Zone for centuries. Danny’s sister Jazz had settled down and had a family, as they have become somewhat immortal, Fright Knights and a Ghost King they still wished for some sort of communication with their remaining mortal family. Came with the creation of a specialized portrait that only they could access for easy communication, like a video call, while the knowledge of their actual summoning instruction summoning them to the mortal plane had been coded and written at the back of the said portrait.

Vlad had the smug smirk when he had convinced Jasmine to let Dan, Danny, and Dani dress in their Sunday’s best, which made them all squirm and uncomfortable, and to pose for who knows how long for the painting just to finish, never mind that he added an extra three for them as some sort of payback for all the time the three gremlins had caused him extra grey hair.

For someone, they told each other they were different, and seemed all think alike causing him grief, stress, and extra white hairs on top of his head.

At first the first up to the third generation of nieces and nephews would call them through the use of the painting but it seems that it had been radio silence for years now. It is either the knowledge of a weird uncle and aunt has not been properly passed on or Jazz’s line has died out.

So, imagine their surprise that after centuries of radio silence, they have felt their descendant calling them through their portraits.

After a quick pleasantry to each other, all of them looked expectantly at the siblings and Danny briefly wondered if he had something in his face for them to look at them like that and if they had forgotten to breathe.

…

 PS: If someone out there wanted to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

[bohemian-nights]

Omg just finished reading what we may mend, and I want Daemon to grovel and beg laena for her forgiveness. Especially since they’re going to driftmark Rhaenyra (being thirsty as ever) is going to want Daemon. Love that Laena is starting to stand up more.

Oh trust, Daemon is going to have to go worshiping at her feet soon enough. Going back to Westeros/Driftmark is a catch-22 situation for them. On the one hand, yeah Rhaenyra is going to be an issue, but on the other Driftmark is Laena’s home. She’s got a whole host of family, including spoilers, a very pissed off/mourning Rhaenys who’s just lost one child and isn’t going to be too pleased with the situation she sees her daughter in, so she won’t be alone anymore which will only aid in her growing self-confidence.

[nomercymaster11]

Two-way dilemma (Chapter 2)

@SuuNemuii WC: 3,296 | Law x y/n, afab!reader, continuation of "It's complicated"

A/N: This chapter certainly exhausted my brain cells. I wrote it in between my office work, drawing inspiration from various pictures, accompanied by the music of Taylor Swift or Coldplay, and reflecting on some of my past experiences.

The Polar Tang hummed with the routine buzz of activity, and the confined space of the submarine felt both comforting and stifling. A day had passed since the confession, leaving your eyes heavy from the weight of your tears. The sting of rejection lingered, but as you rose from your bed, you took a deep breath, determined to face the day ahead with renewed strength.

Freshening up, you stood before the mirror, reminding yourself that time would heal the wounds. A slight slap to your cheeks was both a physical and mental wake-up call. With newfound resolve, you opened the door to your room, only to be greeted by the unexpected sight of Bepo standing in front of you.

"Bepo?!" Confusion etched your features as you questioned his presence.

"Good morning, <y/n>!" Bepo's infectious grin welcomed you, his demeanor bright and cheerful.

Closing the door behind you, you inquired, "Is there anything you need?"

"Ah, nothing. I'm just checking up on you." Bepo's smile remained warm and genuine.

Walking side by side, the two of you strolled through the submarine's corridors. As the minutes passed, a realization dawned on you – perhaps Penguin and Shachi had shared the bittersweet details of your confession with Bepo. Deep in thought, you mustered the courage to ask for a favor.

"Bepo, may I ask you a favor?" you hesitated, your eyes searching his.

"Yeah? What is it?" Bepo responded with curiosity.

"Could you help me get more duties here in the submarine?" The request hung in the air; your eyes hopeful but uncertain.

"Hmm? But... that's for the captain to decide," Bepo replied, his expression thoughtful.

"Oh, okay..." Your gaze lifted, lost in contemplation.

"Sorry I couldn't help you out... or maybe... you could ask the others if they need help," Bepo suggested, offering an alternative with a genuine desire to assist.

"OH! That's a good idea!" Relief washed over you, and a smile broke through the clouds of uncertainty.

Reaching the common area where the hallways split, you bid Bepo goodbye with a wave as he headed back to the control room. Determination filled you as you embarked on a quest to find other crew members. If additional duties could serve as a distraction, perhaps it would help mend the fragments of your aching heart.

"Let's do this!" you muttered to yourself, a mantra to guide you through the uncharted waters of healing and self-discovery.

--------------

A week had passed since the fateful day. The subtle change in your behavior had not gone unnoticed by the crew. You threw yourself into your work, exerting energy across various tasks aboard the submarine. Cleaning, working, taking on any duty that came your way—anything to keep busy and avoid any potential encounter with the captain. Even your eating schedule changed, either aligning with others or sneaking off to your room to dine alone, distancing yourself from Law.

You seemed content in your efforts, but the crew began to notice the change. Concern etched on their faces, they gathered in the common area, Shachi and Penguin at the center of attention.

Ikkaku, one of the engineers, voiced the growing worry.

"Is there something we need to know regarding <y/n>?"

Penguin, feigning ignorance, gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"She seems like she's trying to always get herself busy these few days. Did the captain scold her or something?" Ikkaku questioned, the concern noticeable.

"I bet something's going on," Hakugan added, echoing the sentiments of the crew.

Concerned voices overlapped, and the crew crowded around Penguin and Shachi, eyes wide and expectant. Penguin tried to calm the situation.

"Hey! Calm your horses! Chill, guys!" Penguin raised his hands in an attempt to quell the commotion. He sighed, gesturing for the crew to come closer to hear him out. Just as he was about to share the details, Shachi spotted Law approaching, bent down and crossing his arms.

"Captain?!" Shachi exclaimed in surprise.

Law questioned, "Am I not allowed to hear what my crew has to share with everyone here?"

Penguin, seizing the moment, anchored his arm to Law's shoulder, leading him away from the crowd. Shachi motioned for the other crew members to disperse while Law was being distracted by Penguin.

"Cap, there's nothing to worry about. Relax," Penguin said, tapping Law's shoulder with a nervous laugh.

Law, squinting his eyes and frowning, asked, "So... you are talking behind my back now?"

"NO!... No..! That ain't true!" Penguin responded nervously.

However, before the situation could escalate further, a loud thud and a massive impact shook the submarine. The sudden loss of electricity plunged the hallways into darkness, and emergency red lights began to flash. Crew members lost their balance, grasping onto whatever they could find.

"Attention, everyone! We are being attacked by a sea serpent!" Bepo's voice echoed through the submarine's speakers, alerting everyone to the imminent danger. The crew's attention shifted from internal matters to the external threat, uniting them in the face of a common adversary.

With a swift activation of his devil fruit ability, Law, accompanied by Shachi and Penguin, teleported to the control room in an instant.

"Bepo! Status report!" Law's stern voice cut through the urgency in the room, embodying the seriousness of the captain in the face of danger.

The radar emitted a rapid beep, and a rushing, flashing red light revealed another sea serpent fast approaching the submarine. Law, quick to take charge, commanded the crew in the control room effortlessly, enabling the submarine to avoid a direct hit, though it was slightly scratched at the side.

Law's keen perception led him to notice something amiss.

"Where's <y/n>-ya?" he questioned, his eyes scanning the control room.

Penguin thought of her, realizing she should have been in the room.

"Captain! I'll look - " Penguin began, but Law swiftly interrupted, issuing a chain of commands:

"Penguin, take charge," Law's voice was stern and calm.

"Shachi, call on the others and have the submarine checked for repairs."

"Clione, prepare the torpedoes and await Penguin’s orders.”

"Bepo, prepare to resurface. Alert me once we're above the sea."

"Aye, aye CAPTAIN!" The crew responded in unison, saluting Law as he left the control room, katana in hand.

An abrupt silence enveloped the room as the crew exchanged surprised glances. Penguin and Shachi, sharing a knowing grin, found delight in the unexpected action of their captain.

"He went out just to find her!" Shachi exclaimed with a sense of delight. Penguin, equally excited, couldn't contain his emotions. The room seemed to lighten up for a moment, but reality struck with Penguin's clapping of hands.

"Everyone, refocus! The ship is in our hands!" Penguin exclaimed, bringing the crew back to the urgent task at hand.

With newfound determination, the crew immediately returned to their stations, the emergency red lights casting an eerie glow on their faces. The atmosphere was tense, yet their unity and commitment to the mission prevailed as they navigated the submarine through the dark depths of the ocean.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@

In the engine room, amidst the humming machinery, you conducted your routine check-up when an unexpected thud reverberated through the submarine. Panic seized you as the lights went out, plunging the room into darkness. Disoriented, you lost your balance and collided with a nearby beam, the impact sending a sharp pain through your forehead.

Sitting down, you instinctively reached for your forehead, your hand coming away wet with blood. The emergency lights flickered to life, casting an eerie red glow in the confined space. The sight of your own blood on your hand made you feel lightheaded, and white dots began to dance across your field of vision.

Aware that you were on the verge of fainting, you took deep breaths in an attempt to steady your nerves. The metallic taste of fear lingered in your mouth as you struggled to remain conscious. Every move felt like a monumental effort, and as you tried to stand, fatigue threatened to overwhelm your system.

"My bad luck continues then..." you whispered to yourself, your voice weak and filled with resignation.

Summoning the last reserves of your strength, you began to crawl toward the metal door. The cold floor pressed against your palms as you moved inch by inch, each movement sending waves of dizziness through your weakened body. With determination in your heart and a throbbing pain in your head, you navigated the dimly lit engine room, the emergency lights casting long shadows that seemed to taunt your feeble attempts to reach safety.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@

As Law hurried out of the control room, his thoughts were filled with concern. The Heart Pirates had undergone rigorous training to navigate situations like these, given that the Polar Tang frequently submerged into the dark depths of the sea, encountering various threats from sea monsters. The safety of his crew always took precedence, and with the submarine under attack, Law's immediate focus was on ensuring your well-being. Noticing your absence at the station when sea monsters struck, he suspected that something might have occurred on your way to the control room.

Law had complete trust in his crew, instilling discipline and ensuring that everyone knew their responsibilities. He was well aware of each crew member's routine within the submarine, and any deviation from the norm would catch his attention. However, he had observed you taking on additional work, attributing it to your way of coping with the rejection. Though he noticed, he chose to overlook it, feeling a tinge of guilt.

Remaining calm, Law swiftly checked every room, his mind calculating the potential dangers the crew might face. At a critical point, a thought struck him – a feeling that urged him to check the engine room. Law considered every worst-case scenario that could involve you and, without hesitation, descended straight to the room.

His steps were purposeful, his heart pounding with the gravity of the situation. The emergency lights flickered as he navigated the dimly lit corridors, each step bringing him closer to the engine room. Law's expression remained stoic, but underneath, a sense of urgency and concern for your safety fueled his determined stride.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

You managed to reach the door of the engine room, your body slumped against the cold floor, the last remnants of your energy draining away. Your vision blurred, and as your eyes began to shut, you uttered a weak plea for help, the words escaping your lips almost inaudibly. Desperation fueled your attempt to stay conscious.

"Help, please..."

With the little strength you had left, you reached out for the door. As your trembling hand made contact, the door swung open, hitting the side of the wall with a metallic thud.

"<y/n>-ya!!" Law's voice echoed through the room as he flung the metal door wide open. His eyes quickly scanned the area until they landed on you, slumped on the cold floor. He ran towards you, swiftly placing his katana on the side, his immediate focus on checking your condition. The trail of dry blood on your forehead drew his attention, and he spoke to you, his voice filled with concern. However, disoriented and weakened, you struggled to comprehend his words, unsure of who was addressing you.

Before Law could use his Devil Fruit ability to scan your injuries further, Bepo's voice echoed through the submarine's speakers, bringing news of the submarine nearing the surface. Law faced a dilemma – torn between tending to you and dealing with the sea serpent threat. Reluctantly, he carefully lifted your arms to wrap around his neck, sliding his left arm behind your back for support. With his right hand, he retrieved his katana, lifting both of your legs to facilitate the carry.

"Hold on tight," Law commanded, your head resting on his left shoulder. Adjusting his grip, he twisted his left wrist, palm facing the floor, activating his Devil Fruit power.

"ROOM," he uttered, and a light, thin blue bubble film enveloped both of you.

"SHAMBLES!"

In an instant, the surroundings warped and changed, and you were no longer in the engine room.

As the submarine emerged from the sea water, Law's "Room" ability teleported you both onto the deck. Gently placing you on the floor with your back against the metallic wall near the main entrance, Law ensured your safety. The sunlight filtered into your eyes, and the sea breeze brushed against your skin as you inhaled deeply. The realization dawned on you that Law had been the one to rescue you from the engine room.

Opening your eyes, you took in the scene around you. It had been a while since you were outside the confines of the submarine. The tranquility of the moment was interrupted by two large splashes, reminiscent of exploding bombs, as the sea serpents chasing the Polar Tang emerged on the sea surface.

Your gaze followed Law as he walked toward the sea serpents, Kikoku, his katana, in hand. Activating his "Room" ability, he carefully drew the katana from its scabbard. The sunlight cast a glow on his skin-tight black shirt, revealing the flexing muscles on his back as he executed swift, clean attacks on the sea serpents. Each swing of his katana was decisive and precise, the fight seemingly slowing down in your eyes as you focused solely on your formidable captain.

Your admiration for him was undeniable, but the memory of the rejection suddenly crept into your thoughts, causing a frown to mar your expression. Despite the internal turmoil, you couldn't help but be captivated by Law's skill and prowess in battle.

With a series of clean, calculated strikes, Law dismembered the two serpents. As the fight came to an end, the metallic door flung open, and Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo rushed out, their expressions a mix of relief and urgency.

--------

Using the metallic wall for support, you did your best to stand up. Though you managed to rest for a while, your breaths remained deep, and the effort showed on your face. The three Heart Pirates finally noticed you, their surprise evident.

"Why are you here?" Penguin asked, his concern evident.

"Did you also engage with the serpents?!" Shachi followed with worry etched on his face.

"No, she's with me," Law answered, redirecting their attention to him. The trio's eyes followed Law as he walked toward you.

"I found her in the engine room. I didn't have a choice but to bring her up here," Law explained.

Law extended his hand to you, and you glanced from his hand to his face.

"Can you walk?" Law asked, offering his hand to assist you.

You glanced at them and the trio behind Law grinned and stuck their thumbs up in unison, expressing their approval. Your thoughts raced with a mix of amusement and embarrassment. With no other choice, you accepted Law's help. Instead of reaching for his hand, you placed your hands on his right arm and gripped it. As Law guided you, the trio watched the scene unfold with delight.

Before heading back inside the submarine, Law looked back at the three.

"You two, clean those up," Law's stern voice commanded Shachi and Penguin. The two sighed, glancing at the remnants of the fight scene.

"Bepo, come with me," Law directed his attention to Bepo, signaling for him to accompany him.

--------

As you walked down the hallway, Law was busy instructing Bepo about fetching various medical supplies and medicines to bring to your room. Bepo, eager to fulfill the tasks assigned by his captain, nodded and quickly left to gather the items. Now alone, an awkward silence settled between you and Law.

"Don't push yourself too hard," Law finally broke the silence, shifting his head slightly to glance at you. You responded with a simple nod, looking down, your voice barely audible. Thoughts raced through your mind about how things ended up this way, how a week's effort to avoid him seemed to crumble in an instant. You sighed, resigning to the exhaustion that consumed you. At this point, your focus was solely on your well-being.

Upon reaching your room, a sudden growl from your stomach echoed through the hallway, and you felt a tinge of embarrassment. Law sighed; his concern evident. He opened the door and gestured for you to sit at the edge of your bed.

"I'll go grab some snacks," Law stated, leaving his katana on the side of the bed before stepping out.

As soon as he left, you took the opportunity to lie down on the plush mattress. The comfort it provided offered solace from the chaos of the day. Staring up at the ceiling, you couldn't shake off the frown on your face. Puzzled by Law's sudden change in treatment towards you, his evident concern left you wondering about the thoughts racing through his mind.

"I don't want to overthink this," you murmured to yourself. Adjusting your position on the bed, within a few seconds, the weariness overwhelmed you, and you fell into a deep and fast sleep.

Law knocked on your door, holding a tray of light snacks in hand. Not hearing a reply, he entered the room and found you peacefully sleeping. His gaze softened at the sight, and he carefully placed the tray on the table before sitting at the edge of your bed. Law lifted your left hand, placing two fingers on your wrist to check your pulse. Using the back of his left hand, he then gently pressed it against your forehead to gauge your temperature. A nod from him indicated that you seemed to be fine.

The door creaked as Bepo entered the room, carrying the medical supplies. Law hushed him.

"Sorry, Captain," Bepo apologized.

Law inquired about the status of the ship as he started cleaning and tending to the wound on your forehead with ease.

"The ship needs minor repairs, and the supplies are low," Bepo explained.

"Okay. Have the ship docked at the next island," Law's voice was surprisingly calm.

Bepo observed his captain performing first aid, his eyes shifting between the both of you as he awaited further instructions.

"I guess I have to go, Captain," Bepo said with a low voice. Law appeared deep in thought.

As Bepo opened the door, Penguin and Shachi tried to peek inside, stretching their necks.

"How is she?" Shachi inquired.

"She's asleep. Captain is tending to her... but," Bepo began.

"But... what?" Penguin pressed for more information.

"I think that is the first time I saw the captain like a completely different person," Bepo answered, leaving the two curious Heart Pirates outside the door with intrigued expressions.

They were deep in conversation about the recent events when, out of nowhere, Law suddenly swung the door open and addressed the trio with an annoyed expression, his brows furrowing.

"You guys sure got a lot of time talking about me, huh? How about I add more workload to the three of you?" Law's voice was stern, and the surprised expressions on Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo mirrored their sudden realization that their conversation hadn't gone unnoticed.

"It's Penguin's fault!," Shachi quickly pointed his finger at Penguin, deflecting blame.

"What? No, I'm not! It's Bepo!" Penguin retaliated, slapping Bepo's arm with the back of his hand.

The trio engaged in playful banter, trying to shift the blame onto each other. Law, unamused, shook his head at their antics.

As Law walked away from the playful banter of Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo, the door closed behind him, leaving them to settle their dispute among themselves. The hallway returned to a momentary silence, disrupted only by the fading echoes of their friendly quarrel. Inside your room, you continued to rest peacefully, unaware of the amusing chaos that unfolded in the corridor. The submarine sailed toward the next island, carrying the Heart Pirates and their shared adventures beneath the surface of the vast sea.

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3

[spade-riddles]

The dominoes cascaded in a line, 'cause baby WE are the New Romantics

It has begun. Welcome to the beginning of the end.

We hang back, it's all in the timing. Every bait and switch was a work of art. The waiting and waiting and waiting for a signal that could only be sent after a decade of history ran its course.

The patience of so many tortured souls as the tick tick ticking of the clock grew closer and closer to the great escape. A wise poet once said, "the best people in life are free." And free, she shall set them.

On the 10 year anniversary of the album that dared to shout the whispers of their forbidden club, the signal was sent, washing them clean.

An underground secret garden uprooted in an instant for all to see. The key to the gate once buried deep, now dug up and simply left under a door mat.

Those afflicted by their scarlet letters have started and will continue to dress in black in unity, attending their own funerals. The death of self, for the greater rebirth of one's truth.

The model muse is already foreshadowing this approaching change for herself as she not only posted dressed in all black yesterday with a black and white filter, a black emoji heart, and a overall somber tone, but she also included a throwback of herself from 2014. 10 years ago. The origin of 1989 New Romantics. And she did it all on the day of the initial step into daylight.

The first domino has fell. Going anon sent the warning shot.

"Spade, still going, going, going? 🫵👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏼🤷🏼‍♀️"

For this was more than merely a surprise song, but instead a hint at the first to tip the scale. Call it what you want, Shawn.

The Mountain: "You can say I like girls or boys; So call it what you want, call it what you want".

The Lover remix feature, who notably played his part as the stand in for Karlie Kloss, became the first of many to "Speak Now".

Dressed in black right on cue, addressing his unreleased song The Mountain,

"The real truth about my life and my sexuality is that I’m just figuring it out like everyone. It feels really scary because we live in a society that has a lot to say about that. And I’m trying to be really brave and just allow myself to be a human and feel things."

Headlines. Headlines. Headlines. An all too familiar publicist is most definitely behind its fast travel in the news.

But why Shawn first you may ask? The Lover remix came out Nov 13th, on a different special anniversary. The one in which the mastermind and model danced in a snowglobe round and round. The Lover house, to no coincidence, is shown to be inside a snowglobe in the Music Video. Shawn's next tour date since his speech? Nov 13th...

The ground work has been laid, and just like clockwork, all will soon fall in line.

Perhaps the one said to be on the rollercoaster will get to share her story in due time. It certainly is a bumpy ride going going going down. 🎢

😳

Karlie’s post:

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[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

12: MENDING FENCES

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

Bucky is finally trying to be more communicative about his feelings but you keep giving him things to worry about.

Word count 3.4k

Warnings: better communication between two idiots in love, insecurities, anxiety, panic attack, medical issues: surgery, allergies, anaphylaxis, tracheostomies, Tony Stark and is generosity is basically legend, Big Brother Steve is worried

"She’s stable." Steve told Bucky, the moment he sat down. 

Bucky heaved a sigh of relief. "Is she awake? Can we see her?"

"They’re taking her to surgery," Nat interjected, having appeared suddenly.

"How long will that take?" Bucky demanded. Surgery was never something to celebrate.

Nat shrugged, sitting down beside Bucky, the only empty seat in the waiting room that was filled by several other Avengers and Melinda May. Everyone was concerned about your wellbeing.

Steve glanced at Nat before turning back to Bucky. "They didn't give a specific time frame, but they said she's stable for now. That's a good sign, right?"

Bucky nodded, trying to hold onto that small glimmer of hope. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, not after everything you had been through together. The memories of your laughter, your smile, and the way you always had his back flooded his mind, making his heart ache with worry.

Nat placed a comforting hand on Bucky's shoulder. "She's a fighter, Buck. She'll pull through this, I know it."

Bucky managed a weak smile, grateful for the support of his friends. He knew they were all rooting for you, praying for your recovery. The waiting was agonizing, each passing minute feeling like an eternity.

As the hours ticked by, the tension in the waiting room grew thicker. Bucky couldn't sit still, his leg bouncing up and down with nervous energy.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a doctor emerged from the operating room. Bucky's heart leaped into his throat as he stood up, his eyes locked on the doctor's face.

"She made it through surgery," the doctor announced, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "She's still unconscious, but the procedure was successful. She's a strong one, that's for sure."

Relief washed over Bucky like a tidal wave, his legs suddenly feeling weak with gratitude. He sank back into his seat, tears of relief pricking at his eyes. You were going to be okay.

Steve clapped Bucky on the back, a proud smile on his face. "See, I told you she's a fighter."

"Rogers!" Nat punched Steve's shoulder as he chuckled.

Bucky nodded, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude. He couldn't wait to see you, to hold you in his arms and never let go. You were his rock, his anchor, and he would do anything to keep you safe.

"She's stable," he whispered to himself, a mantra of hope and faith. And with that, Bucky knew that together, you would overcome anything that came your way.

"Can we see her?" Nat asked.

The surgeon looked around the room at the crowd of people in the room before answering hesitantly. "Maybe just one person." He held up his forefinger.

Bucky stood up and was about to stride into the recovery room, when May grabbed his metal arm. The glare she gave him terrified even him, stopping him in his tracks while she walked into the room to see you. But he knew that she had known you longer than anyone else, you considered her your closest family. So he conceded, grateful that she left the doors open so that he could peer into the room to where you lay sleeping peacefully. His heart started beating faster as you opened your eyes and took May’s hand.

He craned his neck as a nurse blocked his view of your face. Edging forwards slightly, creeping closer to you. Would you want to see him?

*

You woke up in a daze, the beeping of machines and the sterile smell of the hospital room filling your senses. You blinked a few times, trying to clear your head and make sense of what had happened. Memories flooded back to you in bits and pieces - Priya, the Vrellnexian, Steve… and Bucky. Had he really been there?

As you tried to sit up, you winced at the sharp pain in your side. May was by your side in an instant, her face etched with worry. "Take it easy," she said softly, helping you adjust the pillows behind your back. She had never been a fan of physical touch, but it was much worse since she got her empath powers.

As you let the air out of your lungs gently, you felt the tension melting away slowly and the pain subsided. "Thanks," you croaked, voice hoarse from the tube that had been inserted in your throat for surgery. "What happened?"

"Same thing that always happens." 

You rolled your eyes, focusing back on May just in time to see her gaze flick back from the other side of the room. You frowned at her, questioningly.

May shook her head, contemplating how much information to give you. You turned your head to follow her gaze but it was blocked by a cheery nurse who greeted you. 

"Right dear, my name is Gertrude. I'm here to give you your first dose of antibiotics. Is that alright?" Her tone was so chipper that you could feel May tense with irritation. 

You nodded, still drowsy from the effects of the anesthetic. May took a step back to allow Gertrude to do her job. The antibiotic felt like cold, seeping through your arm, spreading to your shoulder and straight into your heart. This was followed by a strange sense of euphoria, your heart was racing and there was a strange tightness in your throat and chest. A sudden craving for air filled your lungs and your skin felt like it was on fire, burning as though someone was prodding you with a thousand red hot pokers. 

From a distance, you heard May’s voice calling your name and someone else, someone so familiar. You strained your ears, but it felt like you were under water and your friends were so far away. You did everything you could to swim through the murky waters, but something was dragging you under and you didn’t have the energy to resist. But the voice, you knew it well, you missed that voice. You clawed your way up towards it but the forces acting against you were too strong and the darkness surrounded you, until you sank into oblivion.

*

You woke dazed and confused, your eyes fluttering open to the dimly lit hospital room. The first thing you noticed was the tightness in your neck, the feeling of something foreign lodged in your throat. Panic set in as you tried to sit up, only to be met with the sharp pain of the tubes and wires attached to you.

You reached up to touch your neck, feeling the hard plastic of a tracheostomy tube. What had happened? Everything felt hazy, memories out of reach and it was terrifying. As you tried to make sense of it all, you heard a soft snoring beside you. You turned your head to see Bucky, sitting in a chair by your bedside, his head lolling to one side as he slept in what looked like a terribly uncomfortable position.

"Bucky," you tried to speak but there was no sound. Instead you reached over with your hand, the one free from tubes. He was just about close enough for you to graze the skin on his arm.

He looked up with a start, his expression softening as your eyes met his. They were red-rimmed and weary, his usual stoic demeanor replaced by a look of sorrow. "I'm here," he said quietly, reaching out to grasp your hand.

You pointed at the trach in your neck and mouthed, "what happened?"

"Cricket, you had an allergic reaction. I didn’t know you were allergic to antibiotics."

You frowned in confusion, neither did you. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d taken antibiotics and you wondered what they had given you. It was as though Bucky could read your thoughts, he grabbed your chart from the end of the bed and held it out in front of you so you could read the name of the drug you had been injected with: ceftriaxone. You’d have to make a note of that for future reference. Bucky put the chart away, but not before glancing at it himself, making a mental note for himself.

"How’s the pain?" Bucky asked, softly.

You lifted your hand holding it parallel to the mattress and rocking it slightly. Bucky nodded, sorrowfully. "I'm sorry, I should have been there for you. I'm so sorry." His words held a multitude of meanings.

In a flash, it felt like nothing had happened between you, his presence was the comfort you sorely sought and all was forgiven. You tried to speak, to tell him that it wasn't his fault, that you didn't blame him for the past. But the words caught in your throat, the tracheostomy tube making it impossible to form coherent sounds. Instead, you squeezed his hand, trying to convey your gratitude through a simple gesture. But Bucky understood your unspoken message.

"I made a mistake," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought you didn’t care about me. But I know now that I was wrong. You’ve always been there for me. I miss our… us and I want to make things right."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Bucky, the weight of his words sinking in. You had never stopped caring for him, never stopped loving him. And in that moment, you knew that forgiveness was possible, that your bond could, not only be repaired, but had the potential to grow stronger. You reached out and pulled Bucky into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, at the very least, your friendship would endure. 

As your whole body trembled with emotion, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Nat standing there, her eyes filled with concern and anger. "Stop, Bucky. Leave," she said firmly, her voice cutting through the air.

But you couldn’t let Bucky go. Not now, not when you finally had the chance to mend things between you. You reached out and held Nat’s hand, squeezing it gently. Your eyes telling her what your voice couldn’t. "I need him here, Nat. Please understand."

Nat’s expression softened as she looked at you with an air of disappointment. "So after all the pain he put you through, all the crap, you're just gonna forgive him? Because he comes in here and bats those blue eyes at you and you just pretend these last 6 months of agony didn't happen?"

Your face flushed at her words, not wanting to look over at Bucky to see his reaction. But you knew he hadn’t let go of your hand, he wasn’t shying away from Nat’s allegations. You took a deep breath, trying to find a way to explain your feelings. But with the tracheostomy in place, all you could do was look at Nat with pleading eyes. You wanted her to understand that forgiveness wasn’t about forgetting the pain, but about moving forward and healing.

"You’re right, Nat. I know I have a lot of work to do to prove I deserve Cricket’s forgiveness." Bucky was talking to Nat, but looking directly at you. "But I need you to know that you can trust me."

Nat sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine," she said, her voice tinged with resignation. "But if he hurts you again, I won’t be so forgiving."

You nodded, grateful for her acceptance. And as Nat left the room, you turned back to Bucky, who was still holding your hand. His eyes were filled with a mixture of regret and hope, as if he couldn’t quite believe that you were giving him another chance.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I never meant to hurt you. I was just..."

You squeezed his hand, letting him know that you understood. And as you sat there in silence, the weight of the past six months slowly lifted off your shoulders.

*

Over the next few days, Bucky was at your side. Natasha and May took it in turns to glare at him so that he would leave to shower and get a few hours of sleep. He would sit with you all night and even though you urged him to go home and take care of himself, you were grateful for and comforted by this presence. 

The days were filled with hard work and rehabilitation. You were determined to be weaned off your tracheostomy in record time, especially since you missed the taste of real food. And the catheter they'd put in your bladder was far from dignified.

On your fourth day, they put in a speaking valve and it felt good to be able to communicate again, even if it was just with short raspy sentences. Bucky was dizzy with delight when you greeted him by name. He missed hearing your voice, he would take anything you had to give him. Bucky wasn't the biggest talker at the best of times, he needed encouragement, coaxing into a conversation. It made you wonder how well he and Priya communicated. In the first few days of your recovery, he hadn't spoken much, preferring to sit beside you while you watched your favorite shows on the huge television that Tony had wheeled into your room before dragging a rueful Steve off to Thailand to neutralize a strange artifact giving off cosmic radiation.

Your powers helped you excel with speaking using the valve and you were allowed to use it for longer periods. But sometimes success didn't always work in your favor. 

The following evening, after a grueling session of physical therapy, you fell asleep, only to jolt awake in the middle of the night in a state of panic, heart racing and your chest tight. You couldn't breathe. Panic gripped you as you struggled to catch your breath.

You sat up, gasping for air, feeling like you were suffocating. The room felt like it was closing in on you, the darkness pressing down on you. You tried to calm yourself down, to slow your breathing, but the panic only grew stronger.

Just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, pushing you backwards. Bucky grabbed the suction tube and skillfully removed the mucus blocking your air passage, a task he had observed the nurses do countless times.

As your oxygen levels rose, Bucky shoved the tube back on the bedside unit and gripped your shoulders. "It's okay, it's clear now, you're okay," he reassured you.

But the panic still gripped you tightly, refusing to let go. Bucky looked at you with concern in his eyes as you took shuddering breaths between sobs. Without a word, he climbed onto the bed and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his chest.

"I got you, Cricket. I promise I'm never letting you go again. I got you," he whispered softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

As you lay there, enveloped in Bucky's comforting embrace, the panic slowly began to subside. Your breathing steadied, your heart rate slowed, and the darkness that had threatened to consume you began to fade away. Bucky's presence was a lifeline, a reminder that you were not alone in your struggle.

With his arms around you, you felt safe and protected, allowing yourself to relax and drift back to sleep, knowing that Bucky would be there to watch over you throughout the night. And as you finally succumbed to sleep, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, grateful for the unwavering support of your friend in your time of need.

*

The next morning, you woke up with your face plastered against Bucky's chest, a ridiculous amount of saliva coating your mouth and to your horror, Bucky's t-shirt. You couldn't help but feel mortified at the situation. Waking up with your face pressed against Bucky's chest, drooling all over his t-shirt was not how you had envisioned your morning going. But despite the embarrassment, you couldn't deny the warmth and comfort you felt being so close to him.

Bucky chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. "No worries, Cricket. It happens to the best of us."

As you sat up and tried to compose yourself, Bucky reached over to grab a tissue and handed it to you. "Here, clean yourself up."

You took the tissue gratefully, wiping away the excess saliva from your mouth and the stain on Bucky's shirt. "S’rry, B’cky. Didn't mean to drool all o’er you."

Bucky just shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's no big deal, really. Just a shirt. Besides, it's not like I haven't drooled on myself before."

You couldn't help but laugh at his comment, feeling a bit more at ease. Bucky always had a way of making you feel comfortable, even in the most embarrassing of situations. You missed the camaraderie that you’d had before Priya had entered your lives.

“How's the breathing?”

“S’rry fo’ ‘reakin’ ou’.”

Bucky just waved off your apology, his eyes filled with understanding. "Don't worry about it, Cricket. We all have our moments. I’ve lost count of the number I’ve had, this is the least I could do. I'm just glad you're feeling better now."

You couldn't help but smile at his kindness. Despite the awkward start to the morning, you were grateful that Bucky was still by your side. When it was just the two of you together, it was so easy to get lost in a world where he was yours.

“Di’ you sleep?” you asked him.

“A little… enough.” He added as your face fell. “Don’t worry about me.”

You were taken aback as the door to your room flew open, revealing Steve and Tony standing in the doorway with surprised expressions on their faces. You quickly sat up, feeling a rush of embarrassment at being caught in such an intimate position with Bucky.

Tony raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, well, well, what do we have here? Looks like we interrupted something.”

Bucky clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes, but said nothing. He never answered back to Tony. Bucky had confessed to you that he remembered every detail of how he had murdered the Starks. He had never mentioned any specifics to you but you knew his subconscious would never let him forget. He told you that his dreams were like vivid flashbacks, they played behind his eyelids too often.

“T’ny!” You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Tony's teasing. “Miss’on ‘kay?”

“Total success, Cricket. Thailand was pretty scenic, from what we saw on the flyby. I’ll be sure to take you one day, I think it’s right up your alley.”

You smiled gratefully. Tony had a way of showing his affection by showering you with gifts.

“Hey, why is this thing not on?” He tapped at the wide screen at the end of your bed. “I brought this to help aid your recovery.”

“An’ it’s workin’ marv’ls.”

“That’s fantastic! Well, we'll leave you two lovebirds to it then. Just try to keep the drooling to a minimum, okay?” 

Steve and Tony exchanged a knowing look while both you and Bucky groaned in unison.

“Err, actually, I’m going to stay for a moment,” Steve said, hesitantly before turning to you. “If that’s alright with you?”

“Co’rse.” Now that he was closer, Steve looked tired and worried.

You watched as Bucky got up and left the room to use the bathroom, leaving you alone with Steve. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his expression serious.

“I was worried about you, Cricket,” Steve began, his voice filled with concern. “You and Bucky are like family to me. I can’t bear the thought of losing either of you.”

You felt a pang of guilt at causing Steve to worry. “S’rry, St’ve. Didn’t mean to put you thr’ugh that. Promis’ I’ll be more ‘areful in the future.”

Steve reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I know you didn’t mean to, Cricket. But please, promise me that you won’t do anything reckless like getting stabbed again.”

You nodded, feeling grateful for Steve’s concern and support. “Pr’mise.” You held up three fingers in a scout’s salute.

Steve smiled, his blue eyes filled with warmth. “Good. And remember, I’m always here for you. You can talk to me about anything, okay?” He looked at the door, the one that Bucky had just used to vacate the room.

You nodded, feeling a sense of comfort and reassurance wash over you. Steve had always been there for you and Bucky, like a protective older brother. You were grateful to have him in your life.

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[mothiir]

put Cato in the cuck chair

….but this time with sex pollen. I’m sorry for this. Inspired ofc by @moodymisty, @pluvio-tea, @kit-williams and all others who have got me into bully boy cato

cw: gangbang, sex pollen, Cato being a sexist prick.

—

—

The first indication you have that the mission has gone very, very wrong is the sight of Roboute sans helmet, cheeks flushed red, blue eyes spangling like the aftermath of a nuclear explosion — he practically barrels into Sicarius’ quarters, where you are mending a tear in an Ultramarine’s undergarment, while Sicarius himself fumes quietly in the corner, clearly still rankling from being excluded from the planet side drop. We need someone to watch the diplomat, Roboute had said, in that tone that brooked no argument. 

The diplomat, Roboute calls you. The lady, the squad say. And yet Cato Sicarius still has no shame whatsoever in calling you the woman — or, when he is especially vexed (and Roboute is not within earshot) the whore. 

Sicarius is on his feet at once. “My lord —?”

The rest of the squad follows in, collapsing into the room like a pack of hounds returned from the chase. One of them yanks his helm off, revealing a face flushed just as Roboute’s, nostrils flared and panting. 

“Daemon,” the young recruit manages, only for one of his brothers to shush him frantically. 

“Died,” another astartes supplies. His helm is already long gone; his sandy hair plastered to his scalp with sweat. His eyes are shining. 

“Yes, died but afterwards —“

”Spores,” manages a third, shucking off his gauntlets. “Father, it is too hot.” The last sentence is directed towards Roboute; it lilts almost into a whine, a sound so incongruous with the marine’s bulk that you may have found it funny, in less dramatic circumstances. “Father it is too hot, and it hurts — “

”Be at ease, Augustus — we will be fine. We will all be fine.”

Roboute moves in a blur of blue. It still shocks you how a man of such bulk can dash with the speed and grace of a hare. He grabs Sicarius by the scruff, and lifts him bodily off the ground, dropping him without ceremony into a chair, pressing a strange gun into his hands. It’s all sharp angles and edges — Eldar make? Sicarius eyes it with deep suspicion. 

“What is —?”

”If things seem to be going too far — if she is in peril of mortal wounds — I want you to shoot us,” says Roboute, his voice low and serious, and yet somehow wrenched. He clasps Sicarius’s face with one hand, pinching his cheeks together. “This is a bio-weapon — it will only effect those with Ultramarine DNA. She’ll be fine, but it will knock the men out and a few shots will slow even myself down. I would rather not use it — I would rather solve this using more old-fashioned means — but I do not want her to perish in such an ignoble way. ”

Sicarius is so rarely at a loss for words. His mouth pops open, apparently to ask something, but he’s silenced when Roboute —

When Roboute kisses him. Hard. On the mouth. Your eyes widen, and Roboute curses, shoving the other marine away. 

“Apologies, Cato — it’s all — it’s a ll a little much at present.”

Roboute turns to you. He has positioned the chair so it is facing the chaise lounge on which you perch, mending in your lap. The furniture here is all too large for you, designed for Space Marine bulk, and you are suddenly, profoundly aware of your own smallness. 

“My Lord,” Sicarius manages. “What was —“

”Slaneeshi daemon. Last minute defence strategy. It — it will wear off eventually, but we need to redirect the urges, lest it tear us apart. Augustus, stop touching Cicero — Cicero, get your hand out of your damn pants. Have some dignity.”

”But you just kissed —“

”Nevermind that, you heard the Primarch get your hands off my arse —“

Three of the squad are directly behind the chaise lounge, slap-fighting with each other as they scramble to remove their armour, dropping it directly onto the floor in a manner that would have a tech-priest weeping at the flagrant disrespect shown to the machine-spirit within. Two others are practically glued to the door, huddled together like lambs, apparently afraid to move, quivering —

Quivering with fear, or with the effort of restraining themselves? Neither are wearing their helmets, and both are staring directly at you with a focus that is damn unnerving. It seems almost — almost hungry —

In another blur of preternatural speed, Roboute is before you, removing the mending from your lap with deliberate care. His smile is somewhat fixed, and doesn’t touch his manic eyes. 

“My lady, when you took this position you swore that you would give your life up for the Ultramarines, and in service of the Emperor,” he says, his voice still rough and low. Normally, the Primarch deliberately pitches his voice a little higher, avoiding his normal voice, which is clearly inhuman, a rumbling bass that speaks of deep lungs and a biology almost as alien to you as the Eldar. 

“Of course. Always.”

”Good. Good. Then I ask this of you as. I would ask my men to go to battle. You are strong, and I know you will endure.”

”I — I’ll do anything, of course I will,” you say, lost in the magnificent glow of his eyes, unable to deny him even if you wanted to. Primarchs are practically hypnotic to their own legions; a baseline human stands no chance. 

“Good girl,” he says, and tucks your hair behind your ear. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? So willing to please.”

”Father, can I —“

”Primarch gets dibs, shut up —“

You look back again at the bickering astartes, and your heart stutters at the sight: they’re all naked; skin flushed and glossy with sweat. The two by the door have joined their brothers, disrobing with shaking hands. 

“When you said…when you said service,” you say, pieces starting to click into place just a little too late. “Uh —“

”Hush, little one,” Roboute says. “Drink this.”

He shoves a bottle up at your face. You swallow instinctively, and Roboute stares at the movement of your throat, the flex and pull of muscles. It’s tea — you recognise the smell, if not the taste. Relationships between human women and Space Marines are rarely spoken of but by no means rare, and this tea is infamous among certain circles for making thing s a little easier. It’s a variation on an old Ultramarine recipe that aids with childbirth. It eases pain and opens you up.

”There. Good. Swallow that. Swallow it all.”

Roboute, apparently unable to wait any longer, sits beside you and pulls you into his lap. His mouth on yours is eager and demanding, his tongue sliding past your lips, filling your mouth. You close your eyes and kiss back, wondering if this is all a fantastical dream. The Primarch tugs at your dress, pulling it off your shoulders, bearing your breasts, and you hear five astartes moan in harmony. 

No. Not a dream. 

”Hold her —“ Roboute orders, lifting you up, and another astartes gathers you into his arms, his prick rigid against your thigh. He cradles you to his chest, his mouth seeking your nape, his tongue along your jugular. You squirm in his grasp, panting as his hand goes straight between your legs, thick fingers probing along your cunt, only to withdraw. Primarch’s dibs, you realise, and bite back a shrill of hysterical laughter. 

Roboute has rid himself of his own armour, his cock standing up in his lap; you try to eyeball measurements, planting a hand on your stomach. He grabs you back, and replaces your hand with his. 

“You’ll take me, little one. I have faith in you. You’ll take all of us.”

—

—

Cato Sicarius is going to shoot himself. He’s decided — it is the only honourable thing to do. The xenos weapon is cool in his hand, and he caresses the trigger in slow, circular motions that certainly aren’t meant to be echoing the movements of your slender hips. 

You took Roboute up to the hilt with no small amount of effort, puffing and mewling, and growing teary eyed — but his gene-father kept urging you down, cooing about what a good girl you were, what a loyal servant, how well you took him — and, demonstrating once more that the Avenging Son can achieve the impossible, you ended up with the full length of a Primarch in your guts, your belly bulging around him. Your thighs were stretched to their limit as you straddled him, and — lazy thing that you are — you didn’t have the strength to ride him. That did not seem to matter to Gulliman, who simply picked you up and slid you back down, using you like a toy. He started off as slow as possible, but soon abandoned that, jerking his hips up to meet you as he yanked you down again, and again, and again. 

The tears soon broke into full on sobs. Gulliman hushed and soothed you — patently ridiculous, in Sicarius’s opinion, since you were only doing your duty, and no one (least of all a damn woman) should be praised for doing their part for the Emperor’s will — and you tried your best to swallow back your cries, lips swollen and puffy as he kissed you, nipping and sucking at your flesh. Sicarius’s battle brothers flocked closer, clearly wanting to touch but not daring, not yet, instinctively waiting for Roboute to have his fill. 

As Sicarius is counting the threads on the chaise lounge — and only because your moans and whimpers irritate him so, not to distract himself — Roboute finally cums. Your belly is stretched so tightly around him that Sicarius sees the Primarch’s seed slip inside you, pulse after pulse. He wonders what that feels like. How you feel —

No he does not. One hundred and twenty, one hundred and eighteen, two hundred and eighty six —

“Your turn, Augustus,” Roboute pants, and the next battle brother practically yanks you off his gene-father’s prick. Apparently unbothered by the fact that you are leaking Roboute’s seed down your thighs, like the worst kind of degenerate whore, Augustus crams himself inside, taking you as he stands, one hand supporting your arse, the other holding his cock steady as he lets gravity do its work, sinking you onto him. You squeal with astonishment. 

“S’big,” you slur. All a show — he bets you’ve been dreaming of something like this. Dreaming of an excuse to bed your betters, to spread your legs and take them, to do what you are meant to do. No attempts at diplomacy here, no pretence at being more than you are, just spread thighs and a wet, greedy cunt, and a womb to be filled, and filled again. Disgusting. Disgraceful. 

He’s never been so hard in his entire life. 

He bites the inner part of his cheek, to — to try and avoid shouting at you. That’s it. He wants to shout at you, to call you a filthy little slut for tempting his Primarch so. His battle-brothers should be with an apothecary, being treated for the aftermath of their mission, not here, rutting against you like animals. When Augustus finishes — quicker than he intended, judging by the sound of frustration he makes as his balls gather up and he empties himself inside you — Hadrian and Decimus take ahold of you. The two youngest members of the squad could be twins, with hair that shades more to red than blonde, and the pale skin of Ultramar’s northern, rain-soaked wastes.

”Open your mouth,” says Decimus, and you obey, your tiny lips barely enough to cover the head of the astartes’ purple-flushed cock. “Swallow it, swallow me —“

Meanwhile, Hadrian is positioning you on the lounger, mounting you from behind, trying to ensure your mouth can reach his brother’s cock, but his cock can bury himself inside. It’s an endeavour that should be easy, but you make it difficult — as you always, always do — by squirming and whimpering as Hadrian aims for your cunt, slides on the seed his squad mates have left, and almost sinks into your arse instead. You should let him, Sicarius thinks. You should take him in the arse and thank him, you should take him in the arse and thank him, thank you Cato, my lord, thank you, I’m nothing, I’m —

He grips the gun a little tighter. Shifts from cheek to cheek. Tries to think of the least arousing things he can. Tyranid gene organs, tyranid gene organs — the weird goo that pulses out of a Nurgling when you shoot it — his genefather naked, his genefather buried inside you, his cock distending you, your expression fucked-stupid and slack and — 

Not helping. Not helping. Oh, he hates you, hates, you hates you —

“By the throne, that’s good. How are you still so tight?”

Hadrian has managed to penetrate you at least, and you cannot answer his question, even if you had the brains to: Decimus has his cock in your mouth, your jaw stretched so widely that tendons stand out in your neck, your eyes streaming with effort.

”That’s it — swallow, let me in, going to fuck your face,” Decimus promises, and you keen, with eagerness or distress. Maybe both. Sicarius hopes it is both. He hopes you want it, and hate how you want it, and hate how good you feel —

Count the stitches on the chaise lounge. Count the — the tiles on the floor. Count the number of his battle brothers who have cum inside you. With a low, drawn out groan, Hadrian makes three. And then he’s literally dragged away, Cicero taking his place. 

“You’ve made such a mess,” the astartes coos. You can only manage a gargling slurry of sound, Decimus now making good on his promise, one leg folded under him, the other dangling off the crunch to support him as he starts to hump into your throat. “I wonder if you’ll have a child after this — wonder if you’ll give us a nice little recruit —“

Slicking himself up with the spend pulsing out of you, he pushes in, and you arch your back, popping your hips up, making it easier for him. The sight of you submitting — of you presenting — or maybe the thought of you growing fat with child after this revolting display does something to Decimus, who cums in your mouth. Your throat bulges as his seed spills down inside you, but there is too much to swallow, and you hack and cough it up as he pulls out, your chin sticky and white. 

Decimus huffs, almost sulkily. “Don’t cough it up — lick it up. Go on.”

He gathers his own cum on his fingers, and pushes it onto your tongue. You’re too tired to move at first, but something registers, and you start licking his digits clean with swipes of your kitten pink tongue. Sicarius imagines you crawling to his feet, nuzzling your face against his crotch, begging him to give you a taste, just a taste — he would say no, of course, and backhand you across the face for your whorish temerity, but he would not mind the display. 

Titus is the last to take his due, settling himself down in Decimus’ place, stroking your hair, murmuring soft nonsense to you, like he is comforting you. You don’t need comfort, Sicarius wants to snarl, you want a cock in your throat. All the way down there. That’s what he would do, ram himself into your soft palette and keep going, keep going until your gag reflex was just a helpless little flutter around his shaft —

— that’s what he would do if he were a lesser man, that is. If he were — if he were tainted. If he was ordered. Would Gulliman order him to fuck you? Sicarius’ mouth goes dry at the thought. Maybe he would, maybe his Primarch would see you lying there in a pool of ejaculate and realise what Sicarius has known all along: that you aren’t a diplomat but a whore. That you’re more use to the Legion on your back. That you shouldn’t be using your sweet little tongue to convince xenos to co-operate with the cause of the Emperor, but to lick his balls until he came all over your face. 

Yes. If Gulliman ordered it of him he would. He would not be able to defy his Primarch — such a thing would be tantamount to heresy! He would take you from behind, but yank your head up so he could watch your face as he bullied inside. He would fuck you until even Titus realised that soft words were lost on you. He would —

He would try very hard not to cum in his armour like a neophyte as Titus petted your hair, your lips beginning to bleed from the stretch around his cock. Gulliman has returned to the fray, running his hands along your sides, spreading your cheeks to stare at the ruin they’ve no doubt made of your cunt. Maybe he will turn you about, just a little, so Sicarius can see — 

He does not. That’s fine. It’s fine. 

Instead, the Primarch slides a thumb into your arse, working it in and out, as you shift and mew, face boiled red and slick with drool. Titus’ eyes are closed, his head lolling back with pleasure, heedless of his brother’s impatient commentary. 

“Lieutenant, hurry up, I want her mouth again.”

”Father, Titus is hogging her, make him share.”

Roboute smiles indulgently at his men, now with a finger worked inside you. “Titus, if you don’t mind —?”

”Ah — apologies, my lord.” He strokes your hair back from your face, his fingers tracing the outline of his cock in your throat. “I’m going to cum in your mouth, darling. You can swallow it for me, can’t you?” Wide-eyed, and so eager to please, you nod as best you can. Titus starts moving his hips with intent, the wet glucking sounds of your throat audible even over the Ultramarine’s chatter and the obscene squelch of Roboute’s fingers butterflying you open. 

“That’s it — good girl —“

No sooner has he finished then Roboute snatches you up, arranging you once more on his lap — this time, however, starting to sink into a different hole. Your eyes bug with pain. “Lord —“

”Hush, little one. You can take me. And look!”

He gestures over to Sicarius. 

“Kind Sicarius is keeping watch to ensure nothing goes awry — don’t fret, I know that he does not  like you especially, but he does not wish to see his brothers dishonour themselves by killing you so. Isn’t that right, Sicarius? You’ll watch us most carefully — and I do appreciate it. As, I’m sure, does she.”

The Primarch’s burning eyes meet Sicarius’s over your shoulder as he starts once more to inch his way inside, your body struggling to accommodate him. And then — oh, it must be a trick of the light, or some of your witchery, because he swears that Roboute winks at him.