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lenavonschweetz · 1 year

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Grace For Sale

Sam Winchester x Reader

Synopsis: Your town could definitely handle themselves, but a little help isn’t something you’d willingly turn down. When the Winchesters show up - do things get better, or worse?

Warnings: language, anti-religious sentiments, slight religious inner conflict, angst? If you squint?, smut, Under 18 keep faaaar away.

A/N: Takes place during s5:e17 - 99 Problems. So funny story, I actually AM a preacher’s kid so this episode kinda made me laugh then gave me the idea for this. Title comes from The Devil’s Carnival. Also, this has been sitting in my drafts for literal years, guess it’s about time I post it. As always, I don’t have a beta so please excuse any typos. I’ll fix any that are pointed out to me.

Enjoy!

Sam and Dean aren’t exactly sure what to make of your little town.

The welcome wagon was a little more off the wall than they were used to - what with a firetruck full of holy water, a portable exorcism, and a group of civilians that actually knew about the things that go bump in the night. Still, it wasn’t…the strangest introduction they’d encountered.

“So, are we gonna talk about that?” Sam asks as Dean steers impala into town - right on the tail of the Sacrament Lutheran Militia’s truck. What kind of a name was that anyway?

A church looms overhead, answering Sam’s unspoken question, and he wishes he hadn’t even asked.

It’s definitely the apocalypse, what with the devil’s trap brandishing the walkway up to the church door.

Sam’s eyes are heavy - spending the wee hours of the night fighting hellspawn will do that to you. Especially when you’re bleeding out. At least the militia had some quick fix first aid handy.

The first thing the brothers notice upon entering the sacred building is the couples standing at the alter, all facing the priest who prattles on about finding something special amidst the impending doom. The second thing they notice is all of the townsfolk holding shotguns.

Sam scoffs.

“A wedding? Seriously?” How in God’s name - no, y’know what, scratch that - how in the Hell were they hosting a wedding at a time like this?

“Yup. We’ve had 8 so far this week.” The man to his right, Paul, says and it’s obvious Sam isn’t the only one who’s less than impressed. At least they’re in good company.

It’s definitely the first time the brothers can be completely transparent in their introductions. Sure, sometimes they’re found out, or sometimes they’re among other hunters. But to tell an entire town - and a priest, no less - that they are demon hunters? Yeah, that may take a little getting used to.

So is the priest toting a gun and the children packing salt rounds in the basement of the church. Dean makes a quip about running scared or sticking around and making a home out of the place and Sam thinks he’d be leaning toward the later if the end of the world wasn’t resting on their shoulders.

But none of that explained how a whole town had taken up hunting.

Well, until the mystery prophet is introduced in the form of the “Packing Preacher’s” daughter - Leah.

Well…he’d been through stranger.

Dean makes a pass at her - right in front of her father. The father. Sam just rolls his eyes, gaze landing on the corner where another figure lurks.

Oh.

This one…he thinks…this one is much more his speed.

“Ah, my other daughter.” Pastor Gideon says, holding a hand out to beckon you forward. Sam watches as you push off the wall and approach the group. There’s little family resemblance, he notes, but definitely isn’t complaining. While your sister is clad in muted colors, baggy sweater, and tennis shoes - you opt for something a little form-fitting under your dark leather jacket with the combat boots to match. You scream ‘hunter’, ‘capable’, and ‘danger’ more than anyone else in this town and he has trouble tearing his eyes off of you. Now, you’re not complaining. In fact, your eyes linger on Sam just as much as he does on you. And when he realizes this, the mountain of a man becomes a flustered mess. It brings a smirk to your face and a blush to his. “Y/N, this is Dean and Sam Winchester.”

“So I’ve heard.” You chuckle, arms crossing in front of the very cleavage Sam’s staring at beneath your open flannel. You cock a brow, baiting him, though he seems too nervous with your father present to answer the challenge. “Shame Leah never mentioned you. Though,” you cast an appreciative glance over their strong frames and Sam very nearly shivers. Beside him, Dean practically preens. “I can see why. If I knew fine specimens such as yourself were going to be crashing in our little town, I’d keep it to myself too.”

The Father is none too amused when you wink at your sister and the two of you share a giggle. Again, Sam notes the distinct lack of resemblance but brushes it off.

“Y/N,” Your father says in warning, which you completely ignore and grant the taller Winchester another ravenous once over before turning on your heel. If anyone asked, you would deny that you were overemphasizing the swing of your hips.

“If you need me,” you tell him without so much as a glance, calling over your shoulder as you saunter up the basement stairs. “I’ll be at Paul’s!”

—————

The next time you see the brothers, it’s at the house Leah’s vision lead you to. Well, actually, that’s a lie. You saw them the night before at Paul’s bar, but they seemed to be wrapped up in a very important conversation - if the concentration on their brows had anything to say about it.

Still, that hadn’t stopped you from ordering the brothers a couple of beers. To his credit, Paul doesn’t judge you - which is a lot more than you can say for your family as of late - and even brought the boys their drinks so that you could do the ever so clique cheers across the bar.

Sam merely nodded in his head in thanks, raised his own beer with a silent ‘cheers’, then went back over to his brother.

So you couldn’t get a better read on them that night. That’s ok. It gave you the perfect opportunity to ogle to your heart’s content.

They were some fine specimens, that’s for sure. The perfect hunters. Sharp eyes, strong statures. Hell, Sam looked like he could take out multiple demons all on his own - I mean, come on. Those arms!

God, you had gotten such a perfect look at them while they brooded and planned what with the way Sam’s sleeves had been rolled and pushed up to his elbows. Had you ever found forearms as attractive as you did at that moment? Probably not.

And that jawline? Christ, you could cut glass on that thing.

The sideburns may have been a little much, but hell, if that was all you could pin as off, you’d take it!

Your ogling session had been cut short by the bell tolling - another of your sister’s visions - and after arguing with your father in front of the whole church that ‘yes, I am going with them’ - your hunting group was on the doorstep of the abandoned home. Most of the townspeople are toting guns full of salt or sprayers of holy water, all armed with the ridiculous incantation your sister had told you to use to exorcise them.

But not Sam. No, Sam was only wielding a knife, and God did he make it look easy. If you weren’t too busy kicking ass and getting your ass kicked, you’d be drooling over that too.

Only when the dust settles do you take the opportunity to approach the brothers.

“You really are the hunters my sister made you out to be.” Sam’s perfect eyebrow arches at that, gaze flickering to the way your chest rises and falls with your heavy panting.

“You didn’t think we would be?” You mirror his smirk and shrug, ignoring the way Dean is eyeing the two of you like he knows exactly what’s going on in your head. Honestly, he probably did. Dude seemed about as horny as you did.

“So,” Sam pants, following the group out of the house. You miss the way he’s eyeing your ass as you’re just steps ahead of him. “That’s what it’s like.” There’s no shortage of sexual innuendo in his voice and you decide to poke the bear a little more. Whether your father was in earshot or not.

“What what’s like?” You’re turned to him now, handing in your pockets and treading carefully backward. He meets your hungry look with one of his own and shivers absolutely rattle your body. Again he smirks, making sure the coast is clear of your father before saddling up right next to you.

“Having back up.” He all but whispers in your ear, large hand grazing just inches above your bottom and god, how did he make such an innocent statement sound so filthy. There’s no way he misses the way you tremble and sigh, not with the way he smirks at you while walking away.

You’re not sure what’s going to kill you first. The Demons or your insatiable need for Sam fucking Winchester.

—————

Neither.

Neither of those things is gonna kill you first.

Because it’ll be your father that kills you.

Because you’re going to fucking murder your sister.

After the Winchesters brought back a murdered Dylan…well, things were tense. People started to resent them and the warm welcome they had initially received turned cold. Only you and Paul would speak to them without adding to the guilt you knew they already felt.

You knew it wasn’t their fault. Hell, half of you had been through it before - coming off a hunt all together too cocky and not aware of the demon that still lurked around until it was too late. Dylan was a good hunter. Dean and Sam were good hunters. It had happened to the best of you. And so you do what you always did - you held a funeral and vowed to be more vigilant next time.

But that wasn’t enough for the townspeople.

Or for your sister.

No, she had to go and suck the fun out of everything.

No drinking, no gambling, no pre-marital sex.

All per the angels’ command, of course.

“What a crock of shit.” The empty glass thunks against the wood of the bar - as hollow as you feel right about now. Paul only echoes your sentiments and pours you another glass. The only thing that pulls you from your ire is the bell signifying a newcomer. For the first time since Leah’s proclamation, your scowl softens as the person you wanted to see most walks right through that door.

“So, what happened to, uh,” he makes a grand gesture to the empty bar - earning a snort from the two of you, “’the apocalypse is good for business’?”

“Yeah, right up until Leah’s angel pals banned the good stuff.” Paul says, earning a groan from you as you pinch the bridge of your nose at your damn sister’s name. “Y/N’s here helping me kill some inventory.” Sam chuckles at the glass you raise, tipping it toward him and saying ‘I’m only doing the good work.’ “Want to help?”

With a drink in hand, Paul pours a shot for each of you. He doesn’t hold back on his opinion of the ‘holy rollers’ nor their hypocrisy, to which Sam calls him out for his noticeable lack of faith. Paul shrugs it off, defending his honorable lack of prayer.

“Look, there’s sure as hell demons. and maybe there is a god, I don’t know. Fine. But I’m not a hypocrite. I never prayed before and I ain’t starting now. If I go to Hell, I’m going honest. Besides,” Paul nods to you just as you put your shot glass - empty again - back on the bar. “I figure if this one can get away with it, so can I.” Sam’s eyebrows raise at that, eyes finding you.

“You either?”

“I grew up in the church,” you explain. “I’ve seen how the…holiest of us all can be far worse than the ‘hooligans’ of the world.” You wink at Paul, air quotes bouncing as you mimic your father’s ‘preacher’ voice. The two of you share a laugh and you miss how Sam’s fingers tighten around his glass along with his jaw at the intimacy you two seem to share. “Yeah, I believe in some kind of higher power.” You continue, focus shifting to the Adonis beside you. He doesn’t miss the bitter tone your voice takes on. “But I don’t believe in the church. The organized religion crap. Never been too big on it. But then, neither had Leah. And now, out of nowhere, she’s some chosen prophet?” You scoff. “I dunno. I just can’t trust it. And like Paul said, I’m no hypocrite. I know I’m messed up. Won’t pretend otherwise.”

This time when you regard Paul, patting his hand as one would a brother, Sam’s shoulders relax.

“Yeah, I, uh…I know what you mean.” A moment of heavy, thick silence passes between the two of you before you’re pressing him for his thoughts with nothing more than a look. “I believe.” But he doesn’t sound so sure. More convincing himself than he is you, maybe, so you stay quiet and let him work through his thoughts. “Yeah, I do.” He says, more assured this time. “I’m just pretty sure God stopped caring a long time ago.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” A big sigh breaks from your chest, one of those sighs that comes when you feel like you’ve forgotten how to breathe, and suddenly this conversation is too heavy for how drunk you are not and for how drunk you want to be.

After a few moments, a morbid, hindsight joke blooms in your head and you can’t help but laugh, noting the questioning look on your drinking buddies’ faces.

“Guess those newlyweds knew something we didn’t.” You chuckle, taking a pull of your drink. “Tied the knot before Leah could restrict ‘em. Betcha they’re bangin’ like rabbits right about now.” The liquor burns, smothering your humorless chuckle as you knock it back. “Lucky bastards.”

Behind the bar Paul chuckles, noting the tension in the air, the sudden shift of mood, and takes his exit - mumbling something about grabbing more from the back. Neither you or Sam really hear him, though - too wrapped up in the other’s stare you share at what you’re implying.

Helluva wingman, that Paul.

Once the two of you are alone, Sam swivels in his chair until his long legs drape open and you have to force yourself not to look down. A bushy, perfectly masculine brow arches. Then he speaks - voice low and sweet and pure sin.

“Really? You, uh, don’t seem to have much issue with breaking the no-drinking rule.” And it isn’t a question. He flicks the back of his fingers against your glass, warm eyes staring right at you as the faint tinkling tickles your ears. Your heart shutters in time with the tinkling of skin on glass and you don’t realize you’re chewing on your bottom lip until his eyes flicker to it. “You gonna draw the line at pre-marital sex?”

“Now, Sam Winchester...who said I would do that?” The look you fix him with has him adjusting his suddenly too-tight pants.

“Not afraid of being damned? Of not being one of the ‘chosen’?”

“I’m no ‘chosen’.” You scoff, bouncing air quotes once more. “That’s my sister. Me? I’m just the poor little preacher’s kid who lost her faith a long time ago.” It isn’t seductive talk - in fact, it’s dark as hell. But he asked, and like you’d said before - you were no liar, and you were no hypocrite. You turn to your companion, renewed . “But you know…there is a curfew.”

The tonal shift isn’t subtle, but that doesn’t keep the space between you from growing ever smaller, Sam’s large hand sliding up your thigh and again you must fight off the urge to shiver. Especially when he lowers his voice once more, those big hazel eyes glancing at you from under his full, coal black lashes.

“Is that so?” A squeeze to your thigh, and you jolt just the tiniest bit, to Sam’s great amusement.

“My place is right around the corner.” You explain with a shrug, that damn lip caught between your teeth again. And suddenly in the dark, empty bar, you don’t care if you are damning yourself to hell. As long as it’s at the hands of Sam Winchester, you’ll go willingly.

—————

The wall of your entryway meets your back sharply, a hiss of pain escaping you momentarily before it’s silenced by Sam’s eager lips.

Hurried hands rid you of your clothes, his own falling like breadcrumbs alongside yours until the two of you are falling on to the bed. Fingers skilled at far more than knife-wielding ghost up your thighs, featherlight touches leaving a fire under your skin. He’s slow in his undoing of you. Reverent even. Watches the way you keen beneath him, begging for his fingers. Holds your eyes as he drags those fingers through his lips before trailing the wet tips down your front. When he finally gives them to you, one long digit sliding right up to the knuckle, your teeth break the skin of your lip just enough to hurt and you’re gasping - begging for more - which he gives to you, gladly. Working you until you’re ready for him and at the precipice of falling over the edge.

He had looked good in his clothes, sure, but god damn he’s ten times more beautiful out of them. Infinite smooth, golden skin lays beneath your greedy fingers, a dusting of fine hair contouring the plane of his chest and down below his waistband. Your mouth waters and you tug impatiently at his jeans.

“Someone’s eager.” He chuckles, low and husky, standing to drop both pants and boxers. Oh. Good God.

“Oh, you have no idea.” You only break your eyes away to grab a condom before you shove him on his back and straddle those strong thighs. "I've been wanting to get your clothes off since the second I laid eyes on you."

"Trust me," he breathes - no, borderline growls - and you shutter, walls fluttering at how fucking empty you are and just how fucking bad you need him inside of you right now. "The feeling's mutual."

He’s big all over, just like you expected, and even rolling the latex over his thick shaft has you shivering in anticipation. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by the gigantic man beneath you and before you can react, he’s rolling his hips with a moan that takes your breath away. It takes immense focus to speak through your gasp.

“Don’t finish this before it’s even started, Winchester.” He laughs at your warning, fingers digging into your thighs and ass. Oh, this man is going to wreck you, you just know it.

“You have so little faith in me?” A quip lies on your tongue, something about having no faith at all, but that melts into a strangled moan the second his fat head presses past your opening. “Oh, Christ.” He hisses, teeth clenched and head thrown back in unadulterated pleasure at the feel of you, your hips rolling slowly as you try your best to take the overwhelming size of him. Your fingers digging into supple pecs does nothing to ebb the overwhelming feeling of Sam spearing you open.

“Leave him outta this.” You quip, sinking down the rest of the way - finally. You both shiver at the feeling of him fully seated in you before you start rocking against him.

Not much else is said - not much else needed to be said - as the two of you chase relief and distraction in each other.

The stretch burns in the best way and you realize you're going to be feeling this for days. Every step, every shift is going to take you right back here - your hands splayed out on sculpted pecs, Sam's angelic and angular face contorted in ecstasy as he does his best to keep his eyes open and watch you ride him for everything he's worth. Those big hazel eyes blink up at you, fluttering and rolling at a particularly deep stroke before they're suddenly open - fiery and determined. There's no time to even tease or question before he's pistoning up into you, his marble body rubbing yours in such a way that has you gasping for air, his massive hands splayed over your ass to keep you exactly where he wants you. Sloppy thrusts turn to rocking hips and the new angle has your toes curling.

His cock grazes just the right spot with every rock of his hips, both of you whispering moans and groans of the other’s name. You do your best to keep up, rolling your tired hips when you can, nails biting into his skin when you have to focus solely on not imploding right where you are.

Your orgasm crests, and you beg him to go faster - to take control - and he does, practically throwing you onto your back to angle you the exact way he wants to. The height difference is dizzying - even with you on your back and him on his haunches - all you can see while he hammers into you is the brand on his chest. You itch to bite into the ink, to make him mewl against your skin once more but all rational thought flies out the window when his thumb reaches between your splayed legs, presses in tight, dizzying circles, and sends you spiraling into oblivion as aftershock after aftershock rocks your nerves.

In the aftermath of it all - after you’ve seen white from the intense pleasure he milked out of you - you lie in a daze. Memorizing the way his hands feel as he wipes some of his spend off your chest. Jesus, the sounds that man had made when he came...you have half a mind to tie him down and never let him leave - your sister's 'orders' be damned.

“It’s past curfew, y'know?” You remind him, fingers tracing the divots and curves of his abdomen. God, he’s perfect. You could spend hours memorizing every inch of skin. Pity said skin disappears behind thick flannel once more. You bite back a disappointed groan, casting your eyes over his massive stature. You don't think you'll ever get over just how small he makes you feel - in the best possible way, of course. Especially when he flashes that perfect fucking smile at you, dimples and all.

“Yeah? What about it?” He urges, a shit-eating grin playing at his lips as he dares you to ask him to stay. You sit up on your knees then, leveling yourself with his chest and drag your fingers down once more. "Something you want to say, Y/N?" If possible, his grin grows wider when you crook an eyebrow at him, beckoning him to your level with a come hither finger to match.

“If you’re waiting for me to ask you to stay, Sam Winchester," you whisper, lips ghosting over his own and you take great pride in the way his sinfully long lashes flutter against the tops of his sharp cheeks. "You can keep waiting.” The low groan that escapes his throat when you cup him once more makes you ache in the absolute best way. You're seconds away from throwing your pride to the wind and pulling him back into bed with you. But this is the end of the world after all. No doubt he has other pressing matters to attend to.

“Yeah, well, as much as I would love to…I should get back before Dean gets worried.” Disappointment laces his words, but you’re both too grown-up for any fairytale crap. Your life felt like more a horror lately than a fantasy, anyway. So, with incredibly gentle fingers, he pulls your hand toward his lips, grazing them over your knuckles as his eyes bore into yours. Hmm, he plays dirty.

“Yeah…my dad’s probably expecting me at the church.” You offer lamely, though there's probably some truth to it. Not one night goes by without a demon attack or a vision from the chosen sister. You're surprised you haven't been interrupted by a frantic call from your father already, as a matter a fact. He smiles at you again, your heart running rampant as he's tossing the towel down to wrap his arms around your waist once more. The look in his eyes and the hardness pressing into your belly are tempting enough, but you manage to grit out a warning "Sam..."

“And here you are, sinning with the outsider.” He rumbles, smirking as his eyes drink in your face for - most likely - the last time. You return his smile, reeling him in for one last kiss...or twelve.

“Yeah, well, if I’m going to hell anyway, may as well make the road there fun.”

If only you knew the literal hell that awaited you in the next few hours…

FIN

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tropes-and-tales-archives · 5 months

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Whistle Down the Wind, Chapter Eight

Word Count: 3327

TW: Idiots in love, angst, major injury (talk of hospitals and surgery).

AN: Part of a series. The series masterlist here.

You used to spend Christmas Eve with the Carisi family, even sitting through a Mass that seemed to last forever. Obviously, that was off the table now.

Your mind tried to drift to Sonny’s confession, but you actively pushed it away. You had made your choice, and you weren’t backing down now. Bella told you that Sonny had broken up with Nicole that night, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he moved on with someone else. Probably his partner at work. You’d met the woman – Amanda – a few times, and she was just the right combination of hot and messy. That was like catnip to Sonny.

You reached out to your mom, but she was headed to some resort in the Bahamas for Christmas with her other divorcee friends. You didn’t even bother to call your dad.

Instead, you met up with your bandmate Jen. She played her violin at a soup kitchen on Christmas Eve, and you joined her with your cello. The two of you played happy music – Christmas carols and some lighter classical pieces – and you looked around the room at the people eating and talking in a low murmur. You felt ashamed at your months-long pity-party. People had it much worse than you.

The two of you played until the soup kitchen was done serving food and the kitchen was torn down and cleaned. Then you stayed to help set up the emergency homeless shelter – New York could get bitter cold, and makeshift shelters popped up in church basements across the city to help protect the homeless from literally dying in the streets.

You and Jen finished up, then gathered your stuff. You left the building and sat your cello case down for a moment so that you could wind your scarf around your neck more securely.

“Thanks for coming out,” Jen said, her teeth chattering. “It meant a lot.”

“I enjoyed it,” you replied. You hefted your case and turned away with a wave. “Merry Christmas, Jen.”

********

Sonny was working Christmas Eve, but it was slow. Rapists and perverts seemed to take the holiday off, so he just sat at his desk and worked on paperwork.

It was late when he heard the elevator ding down the hallway, and then heard footsteps rushing towards him. He looked up and was surprised by who he saw. Bella.

“You’re not picking up your phone!” she yelled as she strode into the precinct. Sonny looked down at his cell and saw that it was silenced. He must have missed it vibrating. When he took it off the lock screen, he saw that he’d missed a lot of calls and texts from Bella. And from an unknown number.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. Bella looked awful. Her hair was messy, and her coat wasn’t even buttoned.

She said your name, tears spilling over her eyelashes. She swiped at them with a gloved hand. “Something happened. Her friend called me. Tried to call you.”

Sonny felt his heart drop into his stomach. “What happened?”

Bella shook her head. “I don’t know. Her friend called from Bellevue.” She gave a choked sob. “Sonny, can you drive me there?”

On the drive to the hospital, Sonny let every possibility run through his head. You went home with a bad guy. You got mugged walking home. You overdosed on weed. Was that technically possible? Maybe nowadays, with edibles. His work at SVU crowded into his thoughts, and he imagined every terrible thing he’d ever seen at work happening to you. Assaulted, raped, murdered. His stomach churned and roiled, and Bella openly sobbing beside him didn’t help.

They found parking and made their way to the emergency room. They found your bandmate, Jen, sitting alone alongside a wall. Sonny looked her over and saw the blood on her clothes. His stomach dipped, and he felt his gorge rising in his throat.

Jen caught sight of Sonny and Bella, and she shot to her feet and came over to them. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and she reached into her pocket. She pulled out your phone – Sonny would recognize the case anywhere. He saw the crack that ran across the screen.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Jen said, her voice watery with tears. “I tried both of you because you had the most calls and texts to her. Her parents didn’t pick up.”

“What happened?” Bella asked, and Jen filled them in.

You and Jen had been leaving the soup kitchen. Jen had turned to walk away but heard a squeal of brakes and turned just in time to see the car that hit you.

“I told her not to jay-walk,” Sonny said angrily, but Jen shook her head at him.

“She wasn’t,” she insisted. “She was just standing on the sidewalk. The car jumped the curb and hit her.” She shook her head again, harder this time. “The car tried to leave the scene, but it swerved into traffic and hit another car. Drunk driver, probably. The cops arrested him.”

“How is she now?” Bella asked.

Jen’s eyes filled with fresh tears. “She was in surgery. I don’t know anymore. No one will tell me anything because I’m not family. I tried to tell them that her family wasn’t around…” She trailed off, her words breaking up around her fresh sobs. She looked down at her front, her hands shaking in front of her. “There was so much blood.”

Sonny led Jen to a chair and had her sit down, then he made Bella sit too. “I’m going to go find someone,” he said.

He wandered around until he found the nurses’ station. He gave your name with as much authority as he could muster. The nurse looked him over skeptically, so he blurted out, “I’m her husband.”

The look on the nurse’s face changed to one of concern. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll have the doctor come out to talk with you.”

Sonny leaned against the counter and bargained with God. He promised a lifetime of masses. A million rosaries. Anything, in exchange for your life.

A doctor eventually came down the hallway, and Sonny felt the now-familiar churn in his gut at the blood splattered across the doctor’s scrubs. He extended a hand, said, “let’s go sit down, shall we?”

The doctor explained the situation. You hadn’t seen the car coming for you, and that likely saved your life. You hadn’t tensed up when it hit you, and your cello had absorbed part of the blow too. Still, you were in fair-to-stable condition. You had a broken arm, a broken leg, and numerous cracked ribs. Your liver was bruised, you had deep abrasions from hitting the pavement. You had lost a fair amount of blood through a number of cuts and scrapes to your head. Sonny could see you eventually, once you were set up in a room in the ICU and stabilized.

“Your wife is lucky to be alive,” the doctor concluded. Sonny felt his heart lurch at the thought of you as his wife. “But you should call her family, if she has any.”

-----

Sonny sent Bella home to rest, and he promised to call her if anything changed. He sent Jen home as well after he took your cracked phone from her. He tried to open it, but it was locked.

“Do you know her password?” he asked your bandmate.

The woman sniffled and swiped a hand under her nose. “7-9-3-4. Beethoven’s her favorite composer, and those are her favorite symphonies in order.”

Sonny unlocked it and tried to call your parents. He had to search a little – you didn’t even have them saved as “mom” or “dad.” He found your mother saved under her first name, and your father’s contact information was saved under the moniker “Dumpster Fire.” Neither parent picked up, so he used his most official NYPD voice and left them messages. Then he called Liv and gave her the situation. Then he called his parents, who were just leaving Mass. They made their way straight to Bellevue.

Sonny was sitting in the mostly-empty waiting room when his parents walked through the door. He didn’t even try to hold back his emotions anymore. His mother reached him first, and she pulled him into a strong hug, and he cried for a very long time.

-----

The doctor let him see you eventually. The nurse explained that, as family, he could stay on the fold-out chair in the room, so Sonny sent his parents off to his apartment to get him some clothes and toiletries. Then he made his way to your room.

You looked so unlike yourself that Sonny almost thought that there had been a mistake. One leg was in traction, and nearly every other part of you was covered by gauze or bandages. Your face was a mass of bruises, and the only part of you that Sonny recognized were your hands. They lay limp on top of the light blanket that covered you, and Sonny took one gently and held it as he sat beside you.

It wasn’t twitching this time. You weren’t playing any music in your sleep. You had a mass of wires connected to you that kept the machines by the bed beeping steadily, and you were deep asleep from the combination of sedatives and pain medication.

The nurse that came in to check your vitals shot Sonny a pitying look when he asked if you could hear him. “Maybe,” she replied, punching an update into her computer. “It couldn’t hurt to talk to her.”

So Sonny talked to you.

It was like confession, almost. He told you everything.

He held your warm hand in his and told you about the first time he met you. He had helped his parents move Bella into her new quad during her sophomore year, and then you – a bright-eyed freshman – walked through the door. Freshman housing was full, so you got lucky and were placed in Bella’s dorm. You were laden down with too much stuff, and Sonny had bounded over like a puppy to help you.

He ended up helping you move your stuff, since your parents were too busy bickering in the parking lot. You joked around with him, and by the time your last box was moved in, he was in love.

He told you about his sudden interest in visiting Bella – for homecoming weekends, for big school events – just to see you. He was endlessly fascinated by your talent, and he came more than once to watch you play in concerts and open mic nights alike. Sometimes he just sat back in the shadows and watched you, not even telling you that he was there.

He told you about how happy he was when you and Bella came to crash at his first apartment, sleeping on an air mattress in his living room so that you could go to concerts in the city. He explained the exquisite torture of sleeping ten feet from you, separated by a thin wall, wishing he was stretched out on the air mattress beside you. He described the conflict that his roommate’s comments caused in him – you looked so young and seemed so sheltered and innocent, Sonny felt like a complete creep for having any sort of feelings for you.

He told you about how he campaigned to get you to spend your summers at his parents’ house. It made perfect sense – you had an internship in the city, and you could save money on housing, and his parents loved you like another daughter by then. Suddenly, Sonny found reasons to come home over the summer. He knew women liked a man in uniform, so he made sure to show up after his shifts in his police blues, hoping you were one of those women.

He told you about his sudden, intense interest in movies. You’d mention a director or score composer, and he’d do furious research until he could talk intelligently about them too. By then, Tommy was out of prison and Bella was spending all of her time with him, but Sonny started movie night to keep you close to him.

He told you, a bit ashamed, about how he’d crank up the air conditioner so that you’d drift closer to him on the couch for warmth.

What he couldn’t tell you was why he never told you any of this before. He didn’t even know himself. He supposed that there’d always be a better time or place for it. The better place for it turned out to be the intensive care unit, and the better time was now.

********

Being hit by a car wasn’t like it seemed on television or in the movies. There was no death-bed confessions that you heard, no waking up with the love of your life asleep in the chair beside you. No moment where you had to choose between drifting into the light and returning to your body.

One minute you had been playing your cello at the soup kitchen. The next minute, you were in a hospital bed and crying incoherently from the pain.

You drifted in and out. You were never quite sure if it was day or night. A lovely nurse, as beautiful as an angel, came in and gave you morphine on a regular schedule. If you had the mental capacity to write her theme song, it would be nothing but the most ethereal music. A chorus of sopranos. The morphine made you emotional, but it obliterated the grinding pain that ruled your world.

Sonny was there every day. You were either asleep or high on pain medicine, and you could barely string together a coherent sentence at first, so you missed a lot of his visits. Sometimes you woke up to him holding your hand and talking to you. Sometimes he came after work, handsome in his suits. Once, he fell asleep beside you, his head laid in his folded arms on the side of your bed. That time, you were able to lay a weak hand on his head, ruffling his hair, wishing you could follow a train of thought long enough to tell him how you felt.

********

You woke up from your surgery, and Sonny was on his knees that night, thanking god for it. You were alive – breathing, crying, healing.

Well, you cried a lot. You woke up confused, and you had a lot of delusions at first. Sometimes you thought you were on a reality show. Sometimes you thought you were dreaming and that you were in a coma somewhere else. One time you were convinced that the IV drip had “superhero serum” in it. When Sonny asked you what that meant, you had merely glared at him and slurred, “wouldn’t you like to know.”

When they shifted you from morphine to other pain medications, you reacted badly to those. You cried at everything. You cried at the hospital food, you cried at therapy. You cried at daytime television. Once, Sonny found you just sitting in bed, giant tears rolling down your face. When he asked why you were crying, you told him, your breath hitching as you sobbed, that you felt badly because you had “said some rude things” about Brahms. “I just want to apologize to him one last time.” It took him another few moments to understand that you thought you had been talking to Brahms at one point and that you wanted to, somehow, apologize to a composer who had been dead for a hundred years. Sonny had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing at you – you were so distraught. All he could do was wipe away your tears and tell you that all was forgiven.

Some of the tears were valid though.

You cried when you saw your cello, crushed beyond recognition. It had helped save your life, but it was a one-of-a-kind instrument and the first real investment in your career that you had made. In the depression that fell over you during your hospital stay, you became convinced that you’d never play music again.

You cried a lot about your parents, too.

Sonny always knew that your family was not like his. Between the few spats he had witnessed himself and overhearing you and Bella making comments about them, he figured your parents had issues.

Your father called him back when you were still unconscious from your surgery. He made some lame excuses about trying to find a flight to New York over the holidays, and in the end, he just asked Sonny to keep him updated. He promised to send along some money to help with your medical bills, but otherwise, your father was out of the picture.

You mother visited later, once you were out of the ICU and trying to figure out the next steps of your rehab. There was no way you could go back to your apartment right away – it was a four-story walk-up, and you could barely walk with all your broken bones and diminished stamina.

Tentatively, you had asked your mother if you could go home to recover. You could rent a car together and she could drive you home, then you could return to New York once you were healed up.

“Oh, I don’t know, honey,” your mother had said absentmindedly. “You know I’m not good with stuff like that.”

Sonny was standing by the window, listening to your conversation and seething. He could think of at least ten family members of his own who would gladly help you recover, and your own mother couldn’t be bothered. But at least she showed up. Your father never even made an appearance.

Sonny turned and watched you as you reacted to your mother. He watched your face: first the disappointment, then the stony, blank face.

“It’s fine,” you replied, your voice flat. “I’ll figure it out.”

“That’s my girl,” your mother replied. She reached over and fluffed your hair before wincing at a healing cut on your forehead. “You know, if you parted your hair on the other side, you can cover this. Because it looks like it’s going to scar.”

“Good idea,” you said. You stared off at the wall opposite to your bed until your mother left. Her flight didn’t leave until the next day, but she had a ticket to see “Wicked” and wanted to grab dinner beforehand.

“I’ll call you and check in once I’m home,” she said. She kissed your cheek and gave Sonny a wave and was gone.

Sonny watched you for a moment, and then he walked over to your bedside. “You okay, doll?” he asked softly. You shook your head slightly, and he could tell you were trying to hold back more tears.

“You don’t have to stay, stretch,” you replied. You glanced at him for a second, then shifted your eyes to your broken arm. You toyed with the edge of the plaster. “I have to figure some things out anyway. Make some calls.”

“You don’t have to do any of that.” He reached out and laid his hand on your good arm, squeezing it gently. “You’re gonna come stay with me until you’re healed up.”

You shook your head again. “I can’t…”

“You can. You will.” He rubbed your arm and watched as the tears spilled over and ran down your face. “My building has an elevator, I have plenty of PTO banked up. Between me and Bella and my parents, we can handle it. And when you get tired of the Carisi’s, your bandmates can help.”

“It’s going to be a month or longer,” you protested, but he shifted his hand to grasp yours.

“I’ve got plenty of movies queued up,” he replied. He tilted his head at you and gave you his winningest smile until you couldn’t help but grin back at him.

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #tropes and tales

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gayerthanevertbh · 2 years

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say your prayers - seven.

a year after your scandal, you are thinking about her more and more until it kills you. one night, she was in the same bar as you, and you could barely breathe,

SERIES SUMMARY | your school have church service once every week. of course, as a good little schoolgirl you are, you attend to it. which means you always have to see your priestess, natasha, who you are secretly infatuated with. until there was an unexpected turn that made you feel something else other than good. but maybe, even better.

WARNINGS | 18+ MINORS DNI blasphemy of religion, sacrilegious acts, mother kink, mommy kink, rough fingering, very dark!natasha, slight angst, dirty talking, slut shaming, and pet names.

NOTES | this chapter is not my proudest work, but hopefully you’ll like it! let me know your thoughts on this please <3

nagivation | series masterlist | masterlist

“You have to join us later,” my dormmate said with an exasperated tone. “Have you never been to clubs before?”

“You do know that I was in an all-girls catholic school, MJ.”

“Well, do you want to be… a little reckless than that?”

If she knew what happened, if she knew my sexual affair with my priestess, then she would know how reckless and giving I was, even now.

“What if I get drugged?” I asked with a small voice, not turning my head away from my homework.

“You won’t,” she responded with a stare. “You can’t be moping around in this room. Look, I’ll even treat you out. You don’t have to spend on anything.”

“Is that what you really want?”

She nods; do I even have a choice?

Finally, after a long minute, I agreed with a nod, and turned my head to give her a small smile. I could sense how joyful she was, with her little turn and the tight smile across her lips whenever she gets excited. She says, “Okay, good. Get ready now, we’re going to leave in thirty minutes.”

As soon as she left, I removed my books from the table, grabbing the old journal that I kept with me for the longest time. I have my old fantasies and dreams about Natasha, all the experiences and the scenes that we’ve played; I could never forget them, I’ll hold onto them for my dear life. It’s been a year since the last time I saw her, the last time she held me before the chaos happened. And when I heard the news of her leaving the school, I was devastated. I never had her number, never had the information that I needed–except her house that is now sold out–and I continued to wait for the longest time.

But she never came back, she was a traitor.

I did my best to not think about the priestess by distracting myself with school, drowning in my studies until I could feel my whole body numb. But each time I spaced out; my mind would be swarming with her, especially her hands that are vile to my skin. Forget, forget, forget, I thought to myself. It’s been a year, she’s happier without you, she doesn’t need you. And I keep that mantra on repeat whenever I’d think about her–and it still doesn’t work. And when I had a one-night stand with a girl my age, I knew it was different from the way I experienced it with Natasha. She was fucking me, Natasha was making love to me. There was a difference, a huge one.

You’re my perfect saint, Natasha says as she bites down my lower lip. I will never forget you, I’ll never depart from you, little girl.

As much as that feels good when I think about it, I try my hardest to forget about it. Did I want her to search for me? Yes. Each day passes, and I always imagine a scenario where she has her pick-up truck by the building, with her gloomy hooded eyes that stared at me until she was bored. I felt like an unopened flower when it came to her, and I would rise when she finally did open me up. Clearly, there was something wrong with me. How can I love someone deeply when they don’t feel the same way anymore? Perhaps she has forgotten about me, moved on with her life, and thrown away the memories that we created. No matter how much it hurts, I had to do the same.

Coming out of my room, I see MJ’s boyfriend, Peter, sitting down at the edge of the couch that we bought from an old furniture house. God, he looked like an innocent human being, just like me once. I bet if he met Natasha or any man that would take him, he’d realize how much we were alike. He looks up at me and smiles kindly, and then I realize how much I’m also attracted to men.

“Hey, Y/N! I’ve come to pick MJ up, she said you’re also joining us for tonight.”

Is he rebellious as well?

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh, leaning against the doorway of my room. “I can’t do anything about it, she’s getting on my nerves.” I was merely joking, I hope he laughs.

He chuckles, perfect. “MJ’s like that, that’s why I love her in the first place. She’ll really get you out there and realize that there’s so much more other than studying.”

“Don’t you work for Stark?”

“Part-time only,” he responded. I never thought Parker himself could ever work for a Stark, I find the man too snarky and sexist. That’s just my opinion, I wouldn’t be surprised if he supports him.

We talked about his interests for a while until MJ comes out of the room with a straw cap on her head, high-waisted shorts that shows off her legs pretty well, and decent lip-gloss on her mouth. If I was given the chance to compliment her and say how attractive she was, I’d do it. But her boyfriend was gazing at her, so I never said anything. I quickly slipped on my sandals and walked with them to the bar until I had forgotten about Natasha completely.

“You should try this drink,” MJ slurs, giving me a shot of vodka with a loud chuckle erupting from her throat. “Come on! Drink it up, sissy. Let’s see how strong your intolerance is.”

I wanted to shake my head a no but I had no choice, maybe I do need some fun in my life. It wouldn’t hurt, right? So I give her a small glance and dunk the vodka in my throat, wincing slightly from the bitter taste that is expanding inside my throat hurtfully. I let out a tiny gasp and gave her a chuckle, it did taste good.

“How are you feeling?” Peter asked curiously, you could see how drunk he was from three shots of tequila.

“M’pretty good.”

“My, I think you’re a lightweight,” MJ humors and pats my back hard, making my throat let out a rough cough. I wanted to tell her to go fuck herself. I was going to stand up until my legs were starting to feel wobbly, which made my friend giggle. “Easy there, pretty. Why don’t you just sit down? I’ll go get you more drinks.”

Natasha only gets to call me pretty, no one else.

I drank three more shots of vodka so that it could get into my system, to make me forget a woman that gave me nothing but despair. Fuck her, I think loudly in my head. It’s like I could feel her pick-up truck running me over until I was bleeding all over the road, numerous people watching with their horrific eyes. I wanted everyone to feel bad about me, to come to my funeral and say: this woman did nothing but her this child because it’s true, it’s true enough that she has hurt me. And while I’m drunk, I do realize how fucked up she was. Or maybe we were both fucked up.

Just keep drinking, forget about her, God damn it.

Tell me you love me, Natasha says desperately. You want me, don’t you? You love me, I know you love me.

Leave my head, Natasha.

An hour later, I was drunk as a skunk. I looked around me and I realized how my vision had become blurrier with each second, I needed to get back home, but MJ’s arm was around my shoulder and I could barely let myself stand up, I was so tired. One of her friends, a couple actually, was staring at my cleavage that has been popping out of my blueish tank top. I wanted to cover them, I felt uncomfortable, but I was too dozen off to do so. I asked myself to go to the bathroom and MJ did let me go, finally. While I tried walking to the restroom, I saw a familiar face at the counter. I turned slowly, and I could’ve sworn my eyes were playing tricks when suddenly Natasha was sitting with a glass of whiskey in her hand, looking tired as I was. I felt my world halting, as well as my heart. She still has that effect on me, after so long, she still gives me that warmth and panic that I always get whenever I see her.

Approach her, tell her that you missed her, hug her, kiss her.

My legs couldn’t move, I barely took off my eyes at her, and I wanted to hug her until my head was nuzzling against her neck. Don’t look at me, I begged. Please don’t take a glance, I won’t able to hold myself together.

After a minute of staring, I walked out of the scene and went to the restroom instead, a pan of regret maneuvering my veins. I should’ve turned back and greeted her with a hello, just a simple hello. Or maybe a question of: where have you been all this time? I thought you were in jail. But I could never bring myself to say such things like that, I could never disrespect her. Why? Why can’t I tell those things to you? Why did you not come back for me? You’re a traitor, a coward. After everything I’ve given you, all you have to do is leave. Coward, traitor.

When I walked back out, Natasha was no longer there. Instead, when I turned around, she was behind me with a hooded look on her face. She’s probably more wasted than I was despite how many glasses she could possibly take. She takes a deep breath and clenches her throat, whispering: “You’re here.”

“I am.”

Speak up.

It’s like she couldn’t believe that I was in front of her eyes after twelve months of not seeing each other, of not contacting one another, and there was this sense inside of her that she wanted to bring me inside of her car and make love to me. But instead, she held that thought and brought her hand to mine–holding them together, twinning our fingers until I felt like passing out.

“I thought I lost you.”

“I thought I lost you,” I repeated her words, almost in tears when she was this close to me again. If she only knew how badly enough I wanted her lips on mine, then I might as well die of thirst. I turned around to see MJ having a great time with her friends, and I wanted to leave as soon as possible. Natasha still had her gaze on me and decided to come outside, probably to talk. The thing is, did I want to talk? Yes, somehow. Would I want her to fuck it away? Sure. But before I could let out a word, her hand was wrapped on my wrist and pulled me out of the bar within a few seconds.

I didn’t care if MJ would find me, I didn’t care if they send a police search for me, right now–she’s holding me, and I would be in her spell until dawn.

We were alone in a car in the middle of the night, I didn’t know where she took me, but the road seemed pretty lonely just like how I used to feel hours before I saw Natasha again. There were trees around us, a lot more than I could think of, and I turned my head to see her hands gripping her steering wheel hard; you could see her knuckles turning white because of it.

“Why did you take me here?” I asked quietly, almost in a timid voice. She shakes her head slowly, asking herself the same question.

“I don’t know.”

“Are we not going to talk about–”

“I do,” she interrupts me, and I hear her sniffling. Was she crying? “I just… I do admit I have been a pussy for the past year.”

Damn right, you were. You left me without even saying a word, I thought you were dead.

“I thought you were dead,” I said, repeating that word inside of my head. “I thought that–you were in jail or something, I don’t know. You left me waiting.”

Perhaps there was something inside of me that wanted to slap her across the face, choke her with my tiny hands, and cry in agony about why she left me with the window open. The crease of her lips made me want to lick them, to remind her how good we used to be. But I was so angry, so angry that I barely could look at her in the eyes. Could you blame me? Of course, you can’t. You would do the same thing if I left you, Natasha.

“We would be in danger if I came back to you, Y/N.”

“But you’re smarter than me,” I say with a whine, furrowing my eyebrows. I always felt like she was, in fact, smarter than me, tougher than me, and more intelligent than me. I wanted to bring that word up to let her know how she made me feel so stupid for waiting, to pray to God if there was any sign of her. I was foolish, she was not. “You would’ve found a way to come back to me, to rescue me.”

“I wouldn’t ruin your hopes and dreams.”

“But you were my dream,” I tell her off, almost in a raised voice. She turns her head to me slowly and gives me this stare that screams: don’t-you-dare-talk-to-me-like-that. But she had no choice because either way–I was upset. “You said you would never leave me…”

“And I’m here, aren’t I honey?”

“Don’t call me that,” I muttered, staring back down at my hands that were on my lap; I feel my palms sweating with how aggravating I was feeling. “I’m not your honey or your little girl anymore, Natasha.”

“You have to understand that I couldn’t come to you that quick,” she reasoned slowly, dragging her words as if I don’t understand what she was trying to tell me when I clearly did. “If they see me with you, they will put me in jail. Do you want that to happen, Y/N? If I did go to jail, our hopes would be washed away as if nothing happened. I had to come back to you, just not at that time.”

Still, she was a coward for not showing up. Knowing how brilliant and naughty she can be, she would’ve made time to see me without anyone knowing. She knew very well where I lived, where I sleep, why hasn’t she come up and kissed my feet? Coward, traitor, pussy.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered in mock of shame.

She shakes her head and tucks a strand of my hair behind my hair, I forgot how good it feels to have her radiate all over me.

“It’s never your fault, I should’ve come back for you. I know I was capable enough to come back.”

And when she finally admits it, my stomach churns into knots as my head swirls with fuzziness; it’s all because of her, that priestess, Natasha Romanoff.

“We’re both sick, aren’t we?” I asked.

She chuckles and kisses my knuckles, bringing it to her nose as she smells me like how she would smell my insides. “Yeah, but I’m sicker than you are.”

“Would you show me how sick you are?”

Touch me right now, you fool. Fuck me hard, harder than I could ever imagine. I could hear you say: would you come for me, little girl? For Mommy? And I’d fall apart instantly, you know I would. And when you lean so close to me all I want to do is to smell your collar or your mouth that has the scent of your cigarettes. I’m utterly in love with you, obsessed with you, compelled to you, Natasha.

“Would you like to see how fucking cruel I can be?” yes, more than I can bear.

I lean close to her face and swipe the tip of my tongue on her upper lip, teasing her so that something inside of her would pop out. And when our hooded eyes connected, all I wanted for her to do was to pull me in and kiss me until I’m molded to her. She held my right cheek and watched intently as she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pressed her lips together with mine. I love the simplicity of our kiss, the way her lips would twitch when I would try to deepen my mouth but she was still very much in control. It’s like with each kiss we make, we spoke in so many languages that I wouldn’t even know of. It felt foreign and surreal, but I’ve missed the feeling of it.

“Let me touch you,” her hands were now under my shirt, softly touching my stomach with a smirk on her lips–still kissing me hard. “Let me show you how cruel and unsettling I can be, little lamb.”

Was this an actual sinner in front of me? Rattling herself at me? How can someone be such an angel and when in the dark, they can be a different person? There was no denying how this turned me on–more than much–and all I could feel was the wetness between my legs and my stomach flexing because of her touch. She kisses me with my mouth opening, I felt her tongue dipping inside of my warm hole.

“Touch me,” I preached, bringing her hands further to my bra until I felt her squeezing my right breast–I had my hips arched because of it. “P-Please, I need you.”

“I know,” she says, as a matter of fact. Natasha kisses my chin, then to my open chest where her hand still kneads my breast like a soft dough. “You better stay quiet once I’m inside of you, pretty girl. But if you scream, that’s okay. Because no one would hear you either way.”

I watched her pull up my shirt, as well as my white bra, and moaned quietly when her mouth latches on my left nipple; swirling her tongue around the bed furiously, flicking it with so much force. My chest was heaving from her undying innuendo, and I could feel myself coming close because of it. Once I was topless in front of her, she took her time to remove her jacket and a black tee as well until I’ve finally seen her naked, after so long of not being with each other. I wanted to appreciate what she looked like, how she was still rather beautiful in my eyes when her mouth came back to my lips and I was baffled. She wraps her callused hand on my throat and pins me on the headrest with a growl, then slips her inside of my shorts–feeling my crotch.

“You want to see how evil I am?” she teases, licking her lips, and I could see red in her eyes; it turned me on, it made me wetter. I nodded. “I’m sicker than you, little girl. I’ve had these thoughts ever since you came to the school, ever since you’ve knelt down in front of me, I have pictures of you in my home and I would kiss it, I would touch myself with them. Don’t you know how fucking cruel that is? Hm? Does that turn you on?”

“Yes!” I mewled, grinding my clit against her fingers that were slithering through my folds, she looked at me with those eyes that I’d recognized, and I could’ve sworn I saw Satan within just a second.

“I want to get you pregnant,” she whispers to my ear while slipping a finger inside of me, chuckling to herself when I was clenching hard around her finger. “My god, you’re still this tight. No one has fucked you ever since I’ve been gone, baby?”

“No one,” I shake my head frantically, I needed more than just a finger. “J-Just you, I only need you, Mother.”

“I’ve missed you calling me that,” her lips were now on mine as she gives two hard thrusts that made me squeal out of pain and pleasure. She had long fingers. Her mouth was now in the corner of my mouth, but her eyes never left mine. She smirks, “You think you can be a good slut and cum around my fingers? Maybe once I slip my dick inside of you, I might fill you up with my cum.”

The word cum turns me on crazily, especially when I imagine her strap-on thrusting inside of me with her wild self, her head buried to my neck, as she cums hard inside of me with her hips twitching. I could hear her say: there, now you’re fully mine. I can’t wait until you’re carrying my babies, little girl and with that thought, I was clinging to her with all my strength. She could notice it by now despite how desperate and noisy I was from her thrusting, I didn’t even notice that she slipped another finger and I wish it was her dick instead.

She lets out a grunt, “You like it when I’m choking you, baby?”

I nodded, letting out a small: “Uh-huh, I do.”

“Yeah?” she taunts, curling her fingers to hit my spot hard. She kisses my lips desperately, as if not wanting to let go, and whispered, “How about when I hurt you, hm? You like it when I slap your face?”

I nodded again; and she gave me a wide smirk before I felt her palm smacking across my face, bursting more of my juices inside of my vagina that coated her fingers warmly. She loves the feeling of it, the way she hears squelching sounds coming from my pussy until she has this fantasy of making it bleed. It is impossible now, though. She has already ruined me. She continues to grip my neck hard and thrusts inside of me widely, with louder grunts filling the car.

She smacks my right cheek again before mumbling out with a hoarse voice, “If I could fucking drag your head to my house, I would. I’d fucking hurt you until I’m bored, maybe even touch you without your consent so that I could come. You do like it when I’m like this when I’m mean and cruel… right?”

“O-oh god,” I heaved, sobbing when the sting from her slap is still radiating on my cheek. As much as that hurt, I was so aroused by it. “Yes, I do love it–please fuck me harder, Mother. I’m a good little lamb for you, I’m so good to you!”

Natasha lets out insistent moans and curls her fingers harder to my walls while having her other hand clawing my throat. She whispered the dirtiest names to my ear, especially how much she wanted to hurt me, which never occurred in an alarming sense–it was never alarming anyway. Perhaps I was just in love with her, especially when we met again and I’m giving myself to her that easily. Am I that kind of a slut?

“So good,” she murmurs with a deep tone in her voice, her eyes fluttering close when I was producing more wetness around her fingers. “You fucking feel so warm around me, little girl…”

“Mommy–” I choked out a sob. “I love you so much, fuck your baby–please fuck your baby.”

“I’m going to enjoy you since you’re no longer with your parents,” she whispers with her teeth pearling; I could feel myself getting close. She was animalistic with me, her thrusts were too rapid, especially when she hit that spot. “You’re my good little girl, right? Then cum for me, cum for your Mother. Maybe say a little prayer while I hurt you, hm? Come on, do it for Mommy, sweetheart.”

I muttered out a whole sentence of prayer when all of a sudden I was at my climax. I arched my whole back, shutting my eyes tight, as I twitched while her fingers were still prodding inside of me–her eyes never leaving once more. With her free hand, she pushes the hair away from my face and kisses me hard, moaning when I couldn’t stop being so tight around her fingers. I mumbled, “Mommy, I love you.” I could see her smirking, kissing me for the last time, and responding with a moan.

“I love you too, my little lamb. More so than you know.”

A few hours later, she drove me back home in silence. We didn’t talk much, maybe because I was so speechless from the sudden sex incident that I couldn’t process it in my head. I wanted her to touch my hand, to let me know that she still wanted me, but nothing came out of her sinful mouth. Has she regretted this? Will she leave me again?

“Please don’t think I’m never going to see you again.” I’m glad you brought that up.

I nodded, turning to face her as I gave her an innocent smile, acting as if nothing happened an hour ago.

“Are we back?”

She shuts off her engine and sighs deeply, looking back at me with a curling lip on her face. Then, I felt her knuckles touching my soft cheek, and I died that night. Natasha leans feverishly close, so close that she might lick my lips, and whispered: “Of course, we are. Maybe not in secret anymore.”

This gave me excitement for some reason, it’s like there was nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to her.

“Really?” I asked, flabbergasted.

Natasha only smiles and pecks my lips, then my cheeks, and lastly to my forehead. “We just have to be careful when we are in public, I look enough to be your mother.”

“But you are my Mother.”

“Yes,” she agrees, chuckling to herself as she kisses me hard on the lips; I let her, of course. “You’re my child, my little girl. Now go off, okay? I’ll come to see you again, I promise.”

I hope you will, you fool. Because if you don’t, I might have to kill myself for you to find out that I’m dead, that would make you run to my apartment just to see my lifeless body. I felt intrusive and bold too, as if this relationship was such a healthy one–when clearly, it’s wrong in so many ways. Did I care? Hardly, as long as I’m with her, nothing bad happens.

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marshmallowprotection · 1 year

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Choi Twins 2023 Birthday Analysis

Would you believe me if I said that I don’t have much to say this time because the details are always too obvious to spend hours trying to figure out what the little details are? I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t trying to figure them out, though... Anyway! Here we go, let’s talk about it!

So, Cheritz already gave away what’s happening in this picture. It isn’t much of a surprise to me because the theme this year is everyone as children. Which, that frightened me the very second we started on Yoosung’s birthday given just how many of our friends were neglected as children. They gave us one of the happier moments in Zen’s childhood, but we, the fans, know that Saeran and Saeyoung spent their childhood in shackles.

I’ve been speculating for months how they’d even handle this. Some of the hard questions I had to ask myself were: What if they have no choice but to draw the two of them apart? What if Saeyoung is in college and Saeran is in the church in this photo? What if it’s like the 2019 split screen? I didn’t think they’d go as far as to show Saeyoung in the field and Saeran in Mint Eye because they’d be older in their years and beyond what we’d consider their young childhood.

So, Cheritz choosing to show one of the only positive days from their childhood was probably for the best. I can’t tell y’all how scared I was we were going to get a photo of them sitting together in their childhood home with a smuggled piece of cake and a single candle. I mean, it’d be touching to think that Saeyoung would want Saeran to have a good birthday moment, but I don’t think anyone could’ve handled that theme.

“Secret Outings” is all you need to hear to connect the dots on this image. It’s a moment where their mother passed out and there’s a small window to get some ice cream, look at the clouds, or feel like they might just escape a living hell one of these days. I think the relief I have over this only comes from the fact that the Twitter Event will have the boys trying to find the good in the bad, and enjoying the realization that their present can be whatever they want it to be and they’re free.

I pray whatever image they’ve got cooked up on Twitter won’t kill me. If it’s the boys are kids trying to enjoy ice cream, I am going to full on cry for a week and i won’t be okay. They always add an image to the Twitter threads so there is really no telling what it’s going to be. It might be a single photo, or there might be two of them and I don’t know what’s worse. The thought of the boys together on the fleeting summer day of freedom... or them apart, celebrating as young boys who miss each other dearly.

Anyway! As you can see, my speculation is more or less taken care of. I know a few things about this photo. The boys are likely outside somewhere because the hard light that’s on Saeyoung’s head implies he is either directly in the line of the sun or he’s standing by a window where the sun is on him. It makes more sense to me that he’s outside from the harshness of the light. I can’t write off either for this situation, but there’s only so much I can dissect from the small window they gave us.

This could be inside OR outside. It’s a window but I can’t tell if they’re inside of a building or not. I would hope not, if only because the angle here seems like it’s... an outside view of a window. I don’t know for sure. I definitely can’t tell from the other half of the image. There are a lot of whites and blues in this photo... and I can tell y’all from experience over the years that anything that’s a light color isn’t going to reveal anything to you whatsoever.

It makes finding Zen and Saeran so much harder than it needs to be... literally. I’ve cried in group photos because if Zen and Saeran are there... it means I’ve got a chance of not only losing them to the background details, but I’ve got the worst chance in the world of screwing up which is which.

Speaking of that, a lot of people have been saying online, “Why is that hair so white?” Again, I’ll give you the answer to that, Saeyoung’s hair looks white due to the hard light that’s hitting him. It’s not Saeran. It’s not a photo of the boys as babies with the wrong hair color like they did with Children’s Day last year. This is just the way light theory acts out.

The Children’s Day photo was done just for the sake of keeping spoilers out and away from the front and center for fans who don’t know everything there is to be aware of at this point, and for the sake of consistency.

They don’t want to draw everyone drastically different from the way they are in the present. That’s why Yoosung, Jaehee, and Saeran don’t look like how they actually would.

Hard light brightens anything it touches. It’s called hard light for a reason, and if you work with photography or digital art, you’d have discovered this a long time ago when you were just starting out. Here’s an example of a basic hard light I’ve done on a photo of Saeyoung just to give y’all something to look at to clear up a round of confusion. You can see right off the bat that it makes him look bright to the eye. His colors are extra saturated and feel garish if you look at him for way too long.

See how his highlights become whiter? Yeah. That’s the same thing that’s going on in this photo. I hope that clears that problem up for anyone since I’ve seen it a lot since the preview was posted last night and I don’t know if anyone’s had a chance to explain how light works in photos.

So, all and all, I think what’s happening in this photo is simple. Saeran is nervous about being outside for too long and Saeyoung is trying to reassure him that the world can’t hurt them as long as they’re together. Which, in hindsight, it hurts so much to think about them having conversations like that and knowing what’s the next step in their lives while they’re none the wiser to it. Saeyoung is the brother who would do anything to see Saeran smile, and Saeran is the brother who has no choice but to cling to Saeyoung and pray for the best.

Saeyoung is wearing a black shirt or jacket. Saeran is wearing a hoodie that’s a few sizes too big for him. Whatever they have are things that Saeyoung got from a donation bin. I don’t think anyone here believes that Mother Choi would care enough to make sure they boys have something on their back. She gives them the bare minimum so she can afford to wet her lips with alcohol. As long as the two of them aren’t dead, that works for her. They don’t need anything but that in her eyes.

This is the first time we’ve seen baby Saeran drawn in something that isn’t the white button-down or the green shirt he wears in the flashback to the cathedral and the Special Believer package. It might be the first time Saeyoung has been drawn in something other than his black hoodie, too. I just don’t know if this one has sleeves? The color is too light on his arms to have sleeves!

It’s a notable detail to me because I would never imagine the boys wearing any clothes that make it easier to tell how small and malnourished they are. I know they’ve got bruises, too. Saeyoung and Saeran would definitely make a point of wearing clothes that cover everything up. They don’t want to attract attention to them. Their father could be anywhere... his men could be just around the corner. Their hair is enough of a dead-giveaway. They don’t need to make it obvious to anyone.

Anyway, I’m excited for the twin’s birthday and I can’t wait to see them. Boys, I love you so very much. You’ve been a part of my life since 2016 and I know that I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for you. That’s why I’m happy this year that the theme is everyone as children. They all survived and made it a place in this world where they had each other as family. The RFA is a found family and I am happy to be a part of it. I know we all suffered, but we have each other now in every sense of the word. They’re my family.

I survived, they survived, and I’m happy to say that you’ll get through whatever you’re going through, too. Our past is a part of us, yes, but it doesn’t control our future. That’s what I hope to see when the boys take to Twitter and recount their history. What we’ve survived may always be with us... but, our future can be the place we want it to be as long as we’re ready for it... and I think, Saeyoung and Saeran are ready to tackle the present and the future. I’d like to think we all are after seven years of being a family.

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britney-gvf · 1 year

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Troubled Mind: Part One

Josh Kiszka x fem reader

18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: Unprotected penetrative sex, male oral sex, mild teasing, mild horror

Synopsis: You and Josh spend your spare time on tour exploring old abandoned buildings. When an old church gives you more than you bargained for, you find yourself in the middle of a tale of danger and intrigue.

Troubled Mind: Part One

Josh was on his way and you still weren't ready yet. Sitting on the bed of your hotel room overlooking Charleston, you were desperately trying to achieve the perfect dutch braid, but your nervous fingers just weren't working like you wanted them to. Josh always had the abilty to make you clumsy and unsure of yourself with his presence. Not on purpose, of course, but he'd flash you a knowing, toothy grin or squeeze your arm or leg with just the right amount of pressure and it made you melt. It felt like you had been in a will he/won't he limbo for a while now and you weren't the type of girl to come forward and talk about your feeling. No way in hell.

You had just gotten your braids exactly how you wanted them when a knock startled you. You shot up like someone lit the bed on fire. As you walked to the door, you adjusted your olive green tank top that hugged you in all the right places and did a quick mirror check to pull out some baby hairs from your braid and flatten out your black linen shorts. You opened the door and he gave you the biggest, most perfect smile that made his brown eyes sparkle. "Hey, you! How's it goin?" He said excitedly. Josh was always like this. He always greeted you like you were the most important person on earth to him. It made your stomach do cartwheels, which seemed to double when he pulled you in for a tight hug.

"Oh hey! Let me get my shoes on and I'll be ready," you replied, grinning as you broke away from the hug. "Well come in, I'm not gonna make you wait in the hall." He followed you into your hotel room and sat on the office chair by the desk. As he looked around the rather nice hotel room, he remarked, "We put you up real nice, don't we?"

"Yeah, this is one of the nicer ones! They have room service!" You blushed a little after you said that. You weren't used to hotels with room service outside of touring with Greta Van Fleet. In fact, you weren't used to any of the lavish perks that came with being their makeup artist. They took a chance on you, a girl who was just dipping her feet in the entertainment industry doing hair and makeup. He gave you a knowing, kind smile and changed the subject. "So this place we're going to is pretty far out. I didn't want to go to one of the usual spots where people go to explore, ya know? Off the beaten path and all that."

"You mean you didn't want to go on a guided tour of the Old Charleston Jail? I'm SHOCKED, Joshua," you said with a laugh. You had gotten your shoes on and grabbed your flashlight by this point. "Well, I'm ready!" He stood up and let you lead the way out the door and out of the hotel.

These little adventures you went on with him started at the beginning of the tour. You both had a mutual love for Ghost Adventures and laughed about Zak Bagins' dramatic "demon attacks" often. One day, you both agreed that you wanted to try exploring abandoned building yourselves. Every time there were a couple days of break in the tour, the two of you would find a spot and explore it for an evening. There was usually nothing there but the excitement of possibility and spending one on one time with him made it all worth it.

You hopped into the truck the he rented. It smelled like him: Clean and woodsy. The drive through Charleston was filled with ethically questionable horse carriages, tourists, ghost tours, and beautiful old buildings. Despite being here several times, you were always taken with the charm of this little town. Pretty soon though, you were reminded that Charleston was, in fact, in South Carolina. Beautiful cobblestone roads were replaced by highways in disrepair and trees. So many trees.

"So, what do you think will be at this church?" you asked. Josh raised his eyebrows and turned down the music. The ride had been mostly quiet. You both were deep in thought, it seemed, and he was a little surprised at your awkward break in the silence.

"Well, uh," he chuckled a little bit. "The guy I met at the bar said it had a bit of a reputation. People usually don't last long before they hightail it outta there. Something's there, but he *said* that he doesn't know what. Speaking of which, we're almost there."

He seemed more nervous than usual. Josh was usually a chatter box but he seemed to have a lot on his mind. You did as well, as your feelings for him seem to grow with every little glance in his direction. You pulled down the truck mirror to check your makeup. It was very light, just a little blush, concealer, lip gloss, and mascara. Of course it looked fine, but you were doing it to distract yourself from him.

The truck slowed down as he pulled onto a bumpy dirt road. There was a sign that was faded and dirty. It looked hand painted: "First Baptist Church." Josh seemed to hit every pot hole on the short road to the church. When you finally got to the building, you could feel the heaviness that surrounded it before you even got out of the truck.

It was small and dilpitated. The steeple was missing boards and the cross was barely hanging on, which felt particularly ominous. The paint was peeling off. What was once a pristine white church was now rotting and falling apart. You might've felt sad if it wasn't for the exisitental dread that was consuming you. "Fuck, thats so creepy," Josh said, barely above a whisper. You looked over and he was smiling and excited. Did he not feel the dread?

Maybe his excitement that he gets to spend time with you is stronger than that, you thought. But that felt silly, almost egotistical, to assume that you were the reason for his happiness. You chose to say nothing and walked closer to the church, despite every fiber of your being begging you not to. Josh caught up to you and gave you hand a little squeeze.

"Are you scared? You're not saying much," he said. It was like the little bastard knew that you had such big feelings for him. You don't know if it was the stifling heat or blushing but your cheeks turned red.

"I'm fine," you lied. "You haven't been talking much either. You're usually such a chatter box."

"Oh I have things on my mind, love," he replied. "But now isn't the time to talk about them. Let's go inside."

Love? LOVE?! You almost fell to your knees. You entered the church with him, hand in hand. The inside was in slightly better shape than the outside, but it was clear that time and the elements had done their work. There were a couple of pews still there and the alter was still in tact. The floor was covered by leaves, debris, and trash from other people who used this place as a hangout. The sunlight, orange as the sun was setting, peeked through every little crack and missing board on the walls. It was haunting and beautiful. You looked over to Josh, who seemed just as taken with it as you were. You both saw the beauty in things that other people didn't and it bonded you.

You started walking toward the nearest pew, watching the ground closely for snakes. The dread and heaviness had only gotten worse since you entered the church. You were nervous and felt like you were very much not welcome here. You braced yourself on the pew to collect your thoughts. What the fuck is going on? Have you guys come to a place that's actually haunted? What happened here? What has made this place its home?

Your thoughts were interrupted by your waist being grabbed from behind. You let out a scream and turned around. Of course it was Josh, laughing at his very unfunny, shitty little prank. You must've looked as terrified as you felt because his face fell as soon as he saw yours.

"Hey, hey," his voice was low and calm. You were trying to catch your breath and you were angry at how stupid you felt and how embarassed you were. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realize that would scare you so bad. Come here."

He beckoned you into a hug. You let him embrace you. Despite how sweaty he was, he somehow still smelled fresh and clean. You closed your eyes and let the hug take you over, feeling almost immediate comfort. Josh broke away slightly, just enough to lift your chin just enough so your eyes met.

You knew at that moment why he'd be quiet all day, why you'd catch him looking at you, why he wanted to spend time with you. You knew for sure, in this moment, that he was just as in love with you as you were with him. His big, beautiful brown eyes told the entire story. He gave you a little questioning nod and you smiled back. He leaned in and your lips met.

Josh's lips were soft and yet he was kissing you hard, as if he had wanted this his entire life. Your hands were exploring each others' bodies. He grabbed your ass while you entagled your fingers into his slightly damp hair, his other hand on your face and you pulled him in closer. You couldn't remember either of you shedding your clothes but soon you were both naked and you couldn't tell where his body ended and yours began.

You wanted show him exactly what he meant to you. You broke the kiss and he gave you a sad look...which turned into excitement as soon as he realized what you were doing. You kneeled down in front of him. HIs cock was perfect, just like the rest of him. His hair was perfectly groomed and his dick was just the right size. You could see the precum coming out of the tip. You lightly licked it off, causing him to let out a moan. You started to squeeze his balls as you lightly flicked your tongue up and down his shaft. Your other fingers were lightly tapping whichever part of his dick you weren't licking. He moaned and jerked, occasionally thrusting his cock like he wanted to fuck your face.

"Baby, please. Please suck it," He said breathlessly. You gave him a coy little grin. "What? Like this?" You popped the head in your mouth, sucked it a little and pulled it out like a lollipop. He groaned. "Oh my fucking god, suck it. PLEASE." You giggled and he growled. Finally, you took his whole dick into your mouth. Oh, how amazing it was! You sucked on it with various pressure, sliding your mouth up and down the shaft. You let your tongue dance around it, paying close attention to the head. Josh was slightly fucking your face and moaning. You enjoyed giving him pleasure almost as much as he enjoyed receiving it but you wanted him inside of you desperately. You pulled him completely out of your mouth.

He said nothing. Instead he growled. You barely stood up before his mouth was on yours and he was kissing you hard. He pushed you against the nearest wall and hiked your leg up by his hip.

"Tell me you want it," he said in a low voice. It caught you off guard. "What?"

"Tell me you want my dick, y/n," he was smirking. You HAD control, but not anymore. It was his turn now.

"I want it," you said. He took his cock in his free hand and rubbed it over your clit several times. You whimpered a little. This fucker was paying you back. He positioned his cock at the opening of your pussy and pushed in just a little. Just enough to make you squirm. "What is it that you want, honey?"

"Your cock. I want your cock inside of me. Please, Josh. Please," And just like that he pushed all the way in and you moaned. This was pure heaven. He stayed all the way in before he started fucking you. At first it was slow and hard. He was taking you all in, staring at you with hungry eyes, grabbing your tit and rolling your nipple in his finger. You didn't know where you ended and Josh began, you just knew that this is what you always wanted. You could see sweat rolling down his face and chest. His hair, once slightly damp, was soaked now. He fucked you faster and got into a groove. He went balls deep inside of you with every thrust and it made you see stars. You were no virgin but you had never been fucked like this. He put every feeling he had been bottling up into every thrust and you knew, for the first time, a man was going to make you cum with his dick.

He kissed you hard, cupping your face with his hands. He started fucking you harder and you knew he was close and you were too. Your body began to shudder and you let out a loud scream at the same time as he let out a final moan. As he filled you up, you could feel every muscle in your body tense up, then release. Pure fucking ecstasy. He stayed in you for a few seconds and your eyes met. His dark honey eyes were soft and sweet and he was smiling like he was looking at the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. You couldn't believe that he was choosing you.

He finally broke the silence, "I've been wanting to do that for so long."

You returned the smile and gave him a deep kiss. He finally pulled out and walked over to his clothes. You didn't notice until this point that he had a small bag with him. He bent over and pulled out a few napkins and handed them to you. You gave him a look. "Did you plan this?"

He chuckled, "Like I said, I've wanted it for a while. I wanted to be prepared!" You gave him a smile. You were putting your clothes on and the feelings of heaviness and doom once again creeped in. Fucking around with Josh had been a nice distraction from it. At this point, the sun was almost completely set but it was still bright out. Of course it was a full moon. Crazy shit always seemed to happen on the full moon.

"Ah, a full moon," it was like Josh was reading your mind. "Do you think we'll find something here? The guy I talked to said strange shit always happens." "What guy?", you asked. You hadn't thought about how Josh might've found this place.

Josh began to tell the story of him and Jake going to this old dive bar in Charleston. A hole in the wall, so they could drink and eat oysters without anyone bothering them. They began talking to an older regular who told them all about this place and the strange encounters. Everything from people hearing whispers, to people being threatened by things they couldn't see, to people even getting shoved or scratched.

"Scratched? What the fuck?" you said. The stories made you a little more worried than you already were.

"Yeah, fucking scratched. But this church seemed so cool, I really wanted to check it out. Does make me feel a little weird-"

CRACK. You screamed as a massive beam broke from the ceiling. Josh pulled you towards him as the piece of wood crashed onto the ground below, right where you were standing. He pulled you into another hug. You were shaking. God, that thing could have killed you and he saved you. You felt tears well up in your eyes.

"Shhh, shh, now, honey. You're safe, I'm here," once again, he broke away from you, this time to wipe the tears from your eyes. You composed yourself, feeling slightly embarassed that he had to save you like a damsel in distress. "You know, anyone would be scared from that. Fuck, I'm scared, that could've been so much worse."

It was like he read your mind. He let you go and gave you a little kiss on the forehead. "We can go if you want!"

"No, no, I'm fine now," you lied. You weren't fine but you didn't want to show any more vunerabilty tonight than you already had. It was fully dark by now so Josh pulled a small lantern out of his bag. Somehow, seeing everything around you made it even creepier. It made everything look...wrong.

Your eyes seemed to focus on one thing: the window across the church. Most of the stained glass was gone, except for the edges at the very top. It felt as if someone or something was watching you through it. Josh must've felt it as well because he was squinting at it when you looked over to him. You were still on edge from the beam falling, but you were curious as to what had its eyes on you.

At the same time, you both stepped forward to investigate. "You feel it too," he stated. "Someone is looking at us."

He grabs your hand as you both slowly continue to lessen the distance between yourselves and the window. You had been in many abandoned, haunted buildings with and without Josh but this one felt...real. Dangerous. It was as exciting as it was terrifying. As you got closer, your stomach started doing backflips. Josh squeezed your hand, giving you a small bit of comfort. At least you were not alone.

You were within a yard of the window when you started making out what was beyong it. Trees covered in Spanish moss, an old, unkempt graveyard with headstones cracked and lying on their sides. A worn statue of what looked like a little girl, which made your stomach turned. And just beyond the closest tree, someone.

"Do you see...?" Josh trailed off. " Hiding behind that tree on the left."

"Yeah, I-" then you realized the tree you were looking at was on the right. You looked to the left. There was another person. Your stomach dropped and you stopped breathing. "Josh, there's two of them."

"If only that was the case, sweetheart," Josh said. His voice was a low whisper. He was right: everywhere you looked outside, there was a figure. They all had hoods and robes so you couldn't see their faces. None of them moved and despite not seeing their faces, you could feel all of their eyes on you.

"We gotta get the fuck out of here," you could barely hear your voice come out of your mouth. You were frozen in fear. THUMP THUMP THUMP. Your heart was beating so hard you were sure everything out there could hear it.

You saw one stir out of the corner of your eye but before you could process it, you were being pulled towards the door. Josh had seen it move before you did and was taking you to the truck. Your legs were involuntarily running. He opened the doors up with his body and led you through towards the truck. The slightly cooler air would've felt great in any other circumstance.

You glanced behind you and those hooded figures were no longer stationary, they were running after you. The truck was only a few feet away but it felt like a mile. Josh unlocked the truck as you approached it. Your hands broke free of one another as he got into the driver seat and you in the passenger. The doors slammed at the same time and he locked the doors just as the first figure caught up and slammed his hand on the window. It then that you realized...

The hooded figures were not human. They had human features: skin, eyes, nose, mouth, but they weren't human. Everything was there, but slightly...off. Like a very realistic mask. You had never been more terrified than you were in the moment when that creepy fuck was banging its very large hand on your window. You felt the car lurch backwards and there was a thud. "SHIT! FUCK!" One of them had been hit and you could feel the wheels roll over them. Josh quickly put the truck in drive and ran it over again as he sped down the dirt road. You turned around and they had all stopped and stared at you. The one that had been run over, the one you were sure was dead, lifted itself up and stood back up.

What. The. FUCK.

Josh pulled onto the highway so fast the tires squealed. You couldn't see the church from the highway but you could see those humanoid creatures had walked onto the highway to stare at you leaving. They weren't trying to catch up, they were just...staring.

Josh didn't let off the accelerator until the truck hit 90 and you begged him to slow down.

"What if they're following us?", his voice cracking a little. It was a little comforting to know he was as scared as you were.

"I promise you they're not. They would've gotten us by now," you replied. He nodded and took several deep breaths. For a while you sat in silence, both trying to process the events of the night.

After what felt like hours of silence, you pipe up. "Did you know they have alligators here?"

Josh started to laugh. His face lit up as if you'd brought him back to life. "We just ran for our lives from inhuman creatures and you bring up alligators to break the tension? You're so cute."

You blushed and held back a smile. "I just thought, you know, a fun fact would make you feel better."

"Baby, just your presence is enough for me, but thanks," you could tell he meant it. He reached over and grabbed your hand. When he stopped at the next stop sign, he leaned in and gave you a passionate kiss.

You finally arrived back in Charleston. As you pulled up to your hotel, you expected him to stop, but he drove right past it.

"Did you forget to take me back?" you asked, but you already knew what he was about to say. Your stomach was doing back flips again, but this time it was out of excitement.

"You're staying with us," he said. He seemed serious. "I don't want you to be alone. You can stay in my bedroom and I'll take the couch."

"That's absolutely not happening, Josh. You're not sleeping on the couch. Unless you just don't want to sleep with me."

"Of course I do," he scoffed. "I was being a gentleman!"

You gave a little coy grin as he pulled into their rental house. It was exactly what you expected from a home in Charleston. An old home on a narrow lot, lawn perfectly manicured and home beautifully restored. It had a wrap around porch with a matching balcony. As you walked up the brick steps into the side door, you noticed the haint blue ceiling on the porch and brooms by every outside doorway. Those old southern tales ran deep.

The side door led right into the kitchen, which was huge and gorgeous. Equally as gorgeous were the men in the kitchen. Danny and Sam were making themselves cocktails while Jake was making a massive meal.

"HONEY I'M HOME," Josh yelled, causing all three of them to look up. Not a single one of them looked surprised.

"Well, its about time!" Sam said, almost as loudly as Josh yelled. "Dinner's almost done and you just roll on in last minute!"

Jake looked over his shoulders and gave you a smile. "Did he finally make a move?"

"I-well-"

"-you don't have to answer him, y/n," Josh said. "Sorry, you know how they can be..."

"We're just...joshing around hahaha," Sam gave Josh a nudge that earned him a dark glare. Then he made his way over to you and gave you a big hug. "How ya doin?"

"Good, good," you manage to reply. The Kiszkas were loud and joked around a lot but they were all so kind and caring towards you. Danny finished his drink and walked over, giving you a tight hug as well.

"For real, we're happy for you," he said. "Josh has been carrying a torch for you for a while."

"OKAY, well, we're going to freshen up bye now," Josh pulled you through the kitchen and up the nearest stairwell. It led up to a hallway lined with doors and he led you to the last one.

"It was my turn this time, I get the biggest room," he said. It was massive. Facing the door was a huge, brick fireplace. Across from the fireplace was what looked like the most comfortable bed you've ever seen. Then you noticed the French doors that led to the balcony.

"God, its beautful," you whispered. You had never been in a place so nice before. You crossed the room straight to the doors. You opened them up and the breeze hit your face. The night air was cool, a stark difference from the day time. You could see lights everywhere and tourists walking excitedly down the sidewalks. The steeples of churches in the Holy City were everywhere. You sat down in the nearest rocking chair. Josh sat down in the one beside it.

"Sorry about them," he said again. "Brothers, you know?"

"Oh," you laughed. You honestly expected their reactions. "I don't mind."

Josh didn't respond. You were confused because his expression was odd..melancholy, inquisitive...dark.

"What are you thinking about?" Dread filled your body because you already knew. The air seemed to get colder, the night seemed to get darker, and the only person that mattered at this moment was Josh.

"What do you think those things were?" he asked. You had spent the entire ride home thinking about the creatures. They weren't human, that was for sure, but beyond that, you only had guesses.

"Zombies?" you blurted out, knowing good and damn well they weren't. Josh shook his head. "You and I both know they weren't zombies."

You turned your attention back out to the streets. A ghost tour was walking by. The guide was carrying a lantern at eye level, leading all the tourists to their next spooky destination. You wondered how they would react to the creatures you saw at the old church. You turned again to Josh, who was deep in thought. The silence on the balcony seemed to drown out the people below, as your focus was only on him. You knew what he was going to say next and your heart sank when he finally said those five words.

"I want to go back."

#greta van fleet #great van fleet fanfic #josh kiszka #fanfic #gvf #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut #mystery #joshua michael kiszka #jmk #jmk x reader #greta van fluff #greta van smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fluff #josh greta van fleet #gvf fluff

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disco-elysium-via-polls · 14 days

Text

🎵 Bookstore

Looks like Guillaume le Million... that hair poster.

PLAISANCE - "Hello again, esteemed officer," she keeps reciting like a robot. "And welcome to Crime, Romance, and Biographies of Famous People."

3. "Plaisance, I have something to tell you... I've found the actual source of doom."

PLAISANCE - "What do you mean the *actual* source?" She clutches her pendant anxiously. "Are you talking about the... *Third Presence*?"

INLAND EMPIRE [Medium: Success] - She remembers. Good.

"Yes, the Presence, the Entity, the malicious Energy -- however you may want to call it…"

"My investigation has led me to discover a two-millimetre entroponetic hole in reality. That's the source of doom -- both in the commercial area *and* in Martinaise."

PLAISANCE - "She Who Has Many Names..." she nods solemnly. "I imagine things must be rather bleak for you to return to me. Tell me, what have you found?"

"My investigation has led me to discover a two-millimetre entroponetic hole in reality. That's the source of doom -- both in the commercial area *and* in Martinaise."

PLAISANCE - "A... a what?"

"A tiny hole... in reality. It may be connected with pale, an origin point of sorts. It would explain why historically so many things have ended in failure here in Martinaise."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Ma'am -- what he's saying is true. We found an entroponetic anomaly in the Small Pinewood Church down the coast. I don't mean to be an alarmist -- and more research *is* needed -- but... it's not looking good."

PLAISANCE - "But... but... *that's* not in any of the ancient texts! How am I supposed to protect my bookstore from *that*?!"

"You can't protect it -- not against *pale*. Close up the shop and try to get as far away from this thing as possible."

"You can protect it with hope, by refusing to give up. That's what people have done in the past -- by building a church, a place of worship around this thing."

"You'll have to find your own answer. I've spent too long on this quest as it is."

PLAISANCE - "You're *right*, officer. I mustn't lose faith -- especially now that Annette is finally settling in at school and making friends." She looks at her daughter, quietly studying in the corner of the shop. "No, we can't just leave!"

"Besides, didn't I have some Seolite hope catchers around here somewhere...? I must find them; everything will be alright if I can just find them."

"Thank you for your help, in any case. You're welcome back here anytime."

Task complete: Inform Plaisance about the Source of Doom

+10 XP

3. "Farewell for now, book peddler!" [Leave.]

You know, since we're here, and we already have more money than we can possibly spend...

MOUNTAIN OF BOARD GAMES - A small mountain of colourful board game boxes. There are numerous types of games for all ages. A lot of shelf space seems to be taken up by Wirrâl-related merchandise.

4. "I want to buy the *Suzerainty* game."

PLAISANCE - "Wonderful choice, sir." She smiles at you. "A wholesome *family* game."

4. "I want to buy the *Wirrâl* game."

PLAISANCE - "If you say so." She gives you a curious glance. "But you better stay away from those immoral occult rituals."

4. [Leave.]

BOARD GAME "SUZERAINTY"

A civilization-building board game where you get to choose a nation and set off to colonise and exploit other cultures. A star-shaped note on the box proclaims the game now includes a completely new "Genocide" option.

>INTERACT

SUZERAINTY: THE BOARD GAME - In your hands you hold a brand new copy of the game 'Suzerainty'. It's snugly wrapped in a skin of plastic...

The cover features a charming illustration depicting a mass of grinning labourers loading goods onto a ship while a richly dressed administrator oversees their work.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - The exact location and time period are left deliberately vague, but it's clearly meant to represent the economic relationship between the Revacholian Suzerainty and its many vassals.

Shake the box.

Remove the plastic wrap.

[Leave it perfect and undisturbed.]

SUZERAINTY: THE BOARD GAME - The box has a nice heft to it. You hear the rattle of individual wooden tokens and feel their weight shifting back and forth...

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - What treasures wait in store for you?

SUZERAINTY: THE BOARD GAME - Even before you open it, you can tell that this will be a meaty game of grand strategy and complex player interactions.

2. Remove the plastic wrap.

SUZERAINTY: THE BOARD GAME - The plastic wrap rips off as easily as a bodice in a tawdry historical romance.

Open the box.

SUZERAINTY: THE BOARD GAME - There's a hiss as the lid slides off. Inside you find a thick, full-colour rulebook and more than a dozen pouches of various wooden components.

PERCEPTION (SMELL) [Medium: Success] - Ahhh! Savour that new board game smell! A mix of wood, paper, and ink, all wrapped in the sweet must of cardboard.

Read the rulebook.

Examine the components.

"Hey, Kim, wanna play?"

[Put the game away.]

SUZERAINTY: THE BOARD GAME - 'Welcome to Suzerainty: A game of economic strategy for the whole family!' The rulebook is sumptuously illustrated and thick as a Graadian novel.

'Economic strategy'? More like rapacious plunder and exploitation.

Keep reading.

+1 Communism

SUZERAINTY: THE BOARD GAME - The colourful illustrations depict cheerful workers picking apricots, hauling marble sculptures out of crumbling temples, and harvesting a strange, magenta-leafed plant. Everyone is smiling.

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - You begin to suspect there may be a *political* agenda to this so-called 'family game'. Only one way to find out...

Keep reading.

SUZERAINTY: THE BOARD GAME - The instructions are opaque at first, and introduce many concepts you're not familiar with. Fortunately, there are many diagrams and examples throughout...

You soon figure out the basic conceit: Each player represents an administrator for the *Suzerain of Revachol*. Your objective is to increase the suzerain's wealth and renown by accumulating *victory points*.

How do you accumulate victory points?

Fuck the suzerain, what about *my* wealth and renown?

I've read enough. (Put the rulebook away.)

SUZERAINTY: THE BOARD GAME - There is no path to wealth and renown but through the suzerain. As one of the suzerain's trusted administrators, your very function is the glorification of Revachol...

That's where the suzerain's vassals come in. The game features four vassal nations, each one home to an economically important resource...

Each turn the player collects resources from vassals where they've placed workers. They may then rearrange their workers, fulfil contracts for coin and bonuses, or build structures back in Revachol...

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Success] - As you leaf through the pages, your eye catches on a sidebar labelled 'ADVICE FOR BEGINNERS'.

Read the advice.

Ignore it. Just tell me how the winner is determined.

REACTION SPEED - "Remember, there are many paths to victory in *Suzerainty*, but successful players will find *one* strategy and commit to it wholeheartedly."

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success]- Boring, boring, BORING. Tear up this rulebook and commit some old-school atrocities!

How is the winner determined?

Isn't there any way to invade or commit atrocities or anything fun like that?

SUZERAINTY: THE BOARD GAME - Suzerainty is a family game. The only 'atrocities' you'll be committing are against the social standing of your rival administrators, as you bring in ever more resources and power for the suzerain. Speaking of...

The actual scoring system appears infinitely complex, with a series of tables and appendices required to compute each player's final victory point total. You skip that part for now.

2. Examine the components.

SUZERAINTY: THE BOARD GAME - You open up a number of pouches containing wooden tokens. There are also several punchboards with other cardboard components that will need to be punched out before you can play.

Punch out the cardboard pieces, one by one.

Check out the wooden tokens.

Put the components away.

SUZERAINTY: THE BOARD GAME - Each cardboard token makes a satisfying *chhhk* as you pop it out. Soon a neat pile of cardboard coins and counters has accumulated before you.

KIM KITSURAGI - "What, you're not going to offer to let *me* punch any of them out?"

2. Check out the wooden tokens.

SUZERAINTY: THE BOARD GAME - In addition to the worker and building tokens used by each player, there are also several piles of colourful resource tokens, each representing one of the game's four principal resources...

From the Empire of Safre: orange apricot tokens. From Ile Marat (the ancestral name of Iilmaraa): gray marble block tokens. From the Semenine Islands: white sacks of sugar tokens. And from Supramundi and Saramiriza: magenta tokens for unprocessed cocaine leaves.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Oh, those are nice." The lieutenant picks up a sugar token and admires it.

3. Put the components away.

SUZERAINTY: THE BOARD GAME - You hold the open game box before you.

3. "Hey, Kim, wanna play?"

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant looks over the rulebook before he sees something that makes his eyes go wide...

"Holy shit, the average playing time for this game is one to six hours…"

"I'm not sure we can afford to set aside *that* kind of time for a *game*."

EMPATHY [Formidable: Success] - So he says, but his gaze lingers a moment longer on the rulebook than is strictly necessary. He could *make* time, if he really wanted to.

This unlocks a Suggestion check to convince Kim to play the game, but let's not get stuck into that now.

4. [Put the game away.]

BOARD GAME "WIRRÂL"

A high-pasternal *fantastique populaire* board game, illustrated with bucolic vistas and featuring odd-looking humanoid creatures. It's the 3rd edition mega-setting supplements module and can't be played without the main game.

>INTERACT

WIRRÂL - Large letters on the front form a title: "Wirrâl." The colourful box is illustrated with bucolic vistas. The cover art also features odd-looking humanoids, some short, some taller, some with pointy ears, others with ephemeral wings.

Examine the box.

Open the box.

Put it away.

WIRRÂL - Text underneath the title, in smaller typeface, reads: "Third Edition, Mega-Setting Supplements Module." The side panel adds: "A sword and sorcery adventure board game. With new maps and miniatures."

Shake the box.

Look at the back.

Enough inspecting.

WIRRÂL - Mysterious things rattle inside. What could they be? Dice? Plastic miniatures? A fantastical alternate world full of magic and wonder?

None of that witless Man from Hjelmdall fascist dross hidden behind faux-realistic allegory. Wirrâl is no cliché-ridden apologia for colonial violence. Wirrâl is pure *imagination*.

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - Yes, the Wirrâl setting is known for its complicated system of political alignments. But if you're not into that you can just hack your way through dungeons in search of loot. That's what most people do.

2. Look at the back.

WIRRÂL - A blurb on the back reads: "Tired of the tedium and toil of modern life? Escape to Wirrâl! Leave behind isolas and nations with their petty squabbles. Discard electricity, magnets, and boring technological widgets..."

"Succumb to a world of high-Pasternal fantastique, unleash your imagination and create an adventure of endless possibilities. Discover the terrible secret threatening Wirrâl -- can your band of adventurers save the world?"

Yes, we're ready to take on this challenge.

I'm not sure I can handle all this responsibility.

Definitely not, it sounds too dangerous.

WIRRÂL - Man up, this is about having structured fun! All you have to do is read an intricate rulebook, study an assortment of maps, unfold the illustrated gameboard, and start rolling dice.

In no time you could be romping through grasslands with low-level characters, hunted by iyskel riders… or battling unspeakable monsters in endless dungeons fraught with danger and despair, conjuring up forceful maegics to aid your quest.

DRAMA [Medium: Success] - Don't forget heated arguments escalating to physical confrontation with your friends.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - And beer. Lots of beer.

DRAMA - And most importantly, never forget to rage-quit if the dice don't go your way!

2. Open the box.

WIRRÂL - You pry open the box. Inside you find a folded-up map, a small booklet, a 24-sided die, and a little plastic figurine.

Look at the map.

Look at the booklet.

Look at the die.

Look at the figurine.

Close the box.

WIRRÂL - A reprint of a crude hand-drawn map. The top left corner reads: 'Lands of Wirrâl.' The map features both small villages and mid-sized towns (with odd names), in addition to meadows, forests, hills, lakes and seas (also with odd names).

It doesn't seem to correspond with anything you've seen thus far. It's not a very helpful map.

2. Look at the booklet.

WIRRÂL - A quick guide to the maegical races of Wirrâl. Create your own hero choosing from any of these completely unique and fantastical backgrounds.

The options are, in order of importance: the welkin, the dweorgr, the humans, the faerie folk, and the pygmies.

Read about the welkin.

Put the booklet away.

WIRRÂL - The welkin -- tall, lithe and graceful, with long flowing hair and pointy ears. They're known for being powerful maegic users, but can also hold their own in a brawn-driven fight.

The welkin come with a variety of exciting sub-races: high welkin, forest welkin, lake welkin, and snow welkin. But if you're not feeling experimental -- a basic welkin will always do.

Read about the dweorgr.

Put the booklet away.

WIRRÂL - A grand race of industrious mountain people. They're short, stout and muscular, and enjoy digging for gold and other precious minerals. They're also well-versed in the art of combat, where they prefer to use axes and hammers.

The dweorgr also come in a few different sub-races: hill dweorgr, shield dweorgr, and dark dweorgr.

Read about the humans.

Put the booklet away.

WIRRÂL - They're just humans... what else is there to tell? They're average in all stats and jacks-of-all-trades.

Read about the faerie folk.

Put the booklet away.

WIRRÂL - A very small race of flying people, known for being mischievous, full of trickery. They often lure people into their maegical traps. There are no sub-races for the faeries.

Read about the pygmies.

Put the booklet away.

WIRRÂL - The least popular of the Wirrâl races, the pygmies are short, rotund and dim-witted. Pygmies live in small villages made of shoddy wooden dwellings. They spend most their days tilling the earth and smoking their pipes. There are no sub-races for the pygmies.

3. Look at the die.

WIRRÂL - It's made from some sort of wood and has been decorated with peculiar plant motifs.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - You don't know much about dice, but this one looks pretty damn fancy.

Level up!

4. Take the die.

Item gained: Standard Wirrâl Die

WIRRÂL - You place the die into your pocket. It's always good to have luck on your side.

3. Look at the figurine.

WIRRÂL - You see a man in ragged clothes wearing a lopsided hat and wielding some sort of a firearm.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Huh, interesting. A communard."

"A what?"

"What's so interesting about that?"

"That doesn't sound very Wirrâl-like."

KIM KITSURAGI - "A communard. One of the leftist revolutionaries in the Antecentennial Revolution."

2. "That doesn't sound very Wirrâl-like."

KIM KITSURAGI - "It is not. The communards are not a part of the game setting... I guess someone misplaced it during the packaging process."

"Does this mean we can't play?"

"Maybe someone should make a role-playing game set during the Revolution."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Hmm. Good luck finding people who'd want to play as communards."

4. Take the figurine.

WIRRÂL - You pick the figurine up by the base to meet your gaze. The little plastic man stares back at you, his face contorted into a disturbing shout. Then you pocket it.

Item gained: Figurine Set "Revolutionary"

3. Close the box.

STANDARD WIRRÂL DIE

This basic 24-sided role-playing die can be used to get results for several dice. It's made of East-Semenese Snakewood and embellished with plant motives. It reminds you of plain- and hill-welkins. NOTE! Look at the MAP tab in Journal to see which White Checks have opened.

This die is not actually useful to us at this point in the game.

FIGURINE SET "REVOLUTIONARY"

What a nice little figurine! A turn-of-the-century leftist revolutionary in ragged clothes. On his head lies a lopsided hat, seemingly an ushanka. In his hand he carries a little musket.

I guess we could also give this to Dolores Dei... if we ever figure out what that actually means.

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #harrier du bois #plaisance

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spacemagicandlaserswords · 1 year

Text

The Clone Wars 2x12 ‘The Mandalore Plot’ Reaction

I love Satine. She is AMAZING. She is so fierce, takes absolutely no nonsense, stands up for what she believes in, is exceptionally competent and skilled in her areas of speciality (diplomacy etc), calls out Obi-Wan on his philosophical jedi bullshit and saves his life as well. And the sass. The Sass. It is off the charts. They spend the entire time flirting under the pretence of verbal jousting, sassing back and forth at each other. I love it. I love them. I spent so much of this episode just CACKLING.

Satine and Obi-Wan are perfect together. They compliment each other so well. They’re one of those couples that are just meant for each other. They’re soul mates (if this was a Soul Mates AU). Yes I know what happens shhh just let me enjoy this

I know I go on about Space Husband Cody all the time but Obi-Wan and Satine are just so good together. Obi-Wan can have a Space Royalty Wife and a Space Warrior Husband, as a treat. Or they could all just get together as a throuple. Actually, Satine, Cody and Obi-Wan as a throuple sounds most excellent. Ultimate power throuple right there.

Anyway, onwards to the live-blogging style portion of this reaction post.

Ahahahaha Obi-Wan is pure sass already

Oooh that’s a pretty building. Not particularly tactically secure though seeing as its walls and ceiling are made of glass. Though that makes sense as a pacifist statement I suppose.

Jango Fett was a common bounty hunter? Excuse?!

“Well, Master Kenobi, my shining jedi knight, to the rescue once again.” OMGILOVEHERALREADY

What were those strange shimmering noises?

“After all these years you’re even more beautiful than ever.” Obi-Wan you are NOT subtle

“Kind words from a man who accuses me of treachery.” CACKLING

“No Mandalorian would engage in such violence.” That sounds exceptionally counterintuitive, even if this is a long time before The Mandalorian series.

Did she just ask him out on a date after a verbal joust?!

Those strange shimmering noises appeared again. Also, the ominous music is about as unsubtle as Obi-Wan’s flirting. I think, just maybe, that they might be trying to tell us that *gasp* something sinister is going on here!

There seems to be quite a few lingering shots on the Prime Minister. Does he do something nefarious later down the line?

Naw they’re on a date!

The little pauses in “It’s so good to see you again Obi-Wan” aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

Death Watch. That’s a subtle name.

“Small group of hooligans.” Well that’s going to come back and bite you now isn’t.

“Most distasteful.” Dooku doing the absolute most to chew all of the scenery on this holocall.

First philosophy lesson of the episode. Satine has a damn good point and she’s not letting Obi-Wan get away with any noble jedi bullshit.

Naw he was so worried about her.

Obi-Wan just deciding what to do for Satine’s safety. I get that it’s probably a good idea but also side eyeing.

Ok that was not something I’d ever expect them to show in a “kids tv show”, that was rough and intense.

Is this the first time we hear the Mando’a language spoken?

There’s a lot of religious iconography going on in this episode. The building that Obi-Wan meets the Prime Minister and Duchess Satine in, which looks like a church interior. That hand reaching towards the light.

You two are great and all but why are you sassing each other over the very recently dead dude who is right there?!

“That’s why I’m still talking to you.” SAVAGE

Ahahahahaha Obi-Wan’s little impressed expression CACKLING

Mining is bad kids

Oooh, a Vizla. Is this Paz’s dad?

“Please try not to cause problems where none yet exist” THE SASS

Omg I love these two. They’re perfect.

That pause before Satine said “meditate” XD

Obi-Wan that snooping around is about as subtle as your flirting

I’m loving the music in this episode. It’s been consistently excellent throughout TCW but this episode especially it is really heightening and adding to everything.

This entire scene of Satine trying to subtly communicate with Obi-Wan without alerting Vizla is peak ridiculous campy TCW comedy

“I’m in a bit of an awkward spot” Obi-Wan does like using that phrase when the situation is much worse than he’s letting on. He did the same thing in 2x9 ‘Grievous Intrigue’ when he asked Anakin to pick them up from a ship that was in the middle of exploding in space.

Why did one of the Mandalorians have an OTT south London gangster accent?

What are those? Random demonstration space pumpkins to emphasise the squishing Obi-Wan is about to receive?

“This is not good.” ya don’t say

Ahahahaha at the line about the loud metallic clanging sound and the machine about to smash him into bits.

I am CACKLING at their sassing of each other. Obi-Wan is metres away from being pureed and they’re still bantering.

This is definitely me reading far too much into things but that look of relief on Obi-Wan’s face looked suspiciously like an orgasm face. Apt seeing as this is the episode where he reconnects with his old flame.

“Unseemly pleasure” hmmm indeed.

That’s where you’re supposed to kiss dammit.

Again with the random south London gangster accent for the Mandalorian “hooligans”?

“We’ll have to stand and fight. Or in your case, just stand.” OBI-WAN YOU DID NOT

For such an apparently uncivilised weapon, Obi-Wan seems suspiciously good at shooting blasters.

The rock! Satine!

Lol the Death Watch leader just flicked his little cape away from in front of his arm and then the next shot we see of him it’s right back where it was.

Guv’na? Why the random bri’ish accents?

Lol of course Vizla was the baddie and leader of Death Watch.

Nyoom! Wiz! Zing! Random sci-fi noises!

Obi-Wan why are you dodging missiles with dance moves?! What is this ridiculousness? Also, CACKLING

Satine! There are missiles coming, time to go!

Lol of course he fell on top of her but in this case I don’t care and I will take that trope and run with it!

“Mine was the more daring of the two rescues.” SNORTS

Lol at Rex, Cody, Anakin and the clones just randomly turning up at the end of the episode.

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celticcrossanon · 1 year

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Done With Camilla

I have just found out that Camiila left Easter Sunday service early, 15 minutes after it began. She walked out after 15 minutes while the other members of the congregation were prayers, stopped to receive a bouquet of flowers from a child, which she waved with a big smile as she got into her car before being whisked away to a 'private engagement', thought to be spending time with her family (children and grandchildren).

I am furious.

This woman is Queen. She is married to the head of the Anglican church. She goes to church with him on the holiest day of the year, Easter Sunday, and walks out after 15 minutes. 15 minutes. Not only that, but she walks out during prayers, when everyone else is talking to God. You do not do that. You go before prayers, or afterwards, but not during prayer. It is the height of disrespect.

Then, rather than leaving discreetly, she makes a performance of her departure, clearly very happy to be leaving the service so early.

The Queen of England could not spend the time to sit in church on the holiest day of the year. She had to leave to see her family, who clearly come before God for her.

Can you imagine Queen Elizabeth II doing this? Or the Princess of Wales? For Camilla, the press gloss over it, making it appear that she left after the service and not 15 minutes into it. That media obfuscation also has me mad, but not as mad as I am at Camilla.

This all happened less than a month before she is to be anointed as Queen in a religious ceremony in the same religion. It just goes to show how much that religion and that ceremony mean to her. No wonder she has her grandsons as pages - having them there obviously means more to her than God.

If the service means so little to her, then she and Charles should just go and sign a piece of paper at the Town Hall, as people have been joking. She obviously doesn't care for religious ritual.

From now on, Camilla is on my bad list, and she will not be moving from there. This is an unforgivable insult to my beliefs.

So expect warnings on any reading I do on her in the future. Like Charles and his lies, this has crossed a line for me, one from which there is no going back.

Edit: The Queen, leaving Easter Sunday Service early:

Edit 2: I am very upset about this. I want to like Camilla, but like Charles, she has made it very difficult for me to do so.

Edit 3: I have no problems if people keep on liking Camilla. She has crossed a line for me, and I just can't with her after that, but I know this will not be as upsetting to other people and I am perfectly OK with that. She has done a lot of good work and I can see why that garners admiration. It is partially why I am so upset over this behaviour - she spent all those years building respect and then she goes and blows it with this action (in my eyes, at least).

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bluejaysandblackbats · 3 months

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Wild Eyes

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Batman Rogues

Summary: This is an AU where Jason ends up in Peña Dura with Bane after stowing away on a boat trying to escape Gotham.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Bane DC, Jason Todd, Birdy, Bruce Wayne

Additional Tags: Parent Bane (DCU), Canon Divergent AU, Father-Son Relationship, Jason Todd is Not Red Hood, Unconventional Families, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Chapter One: Peña Dura

I was twenty-two when someone smuggled a castaway into my home. The prison. He was a child. Most men would've thought the child was better off dead, but I thought differently. If he could survive the waters that brought him to Santa Prisca, he'd more than earned the right to receive help. I refused to let him die. "He won't make it through the night," Bird whispered, "I don't know why you waste your time—."

"I spend my days as I please," I whispered as I tended to the child's wounds. "And I disagree... He'll live. You'll see." The child burned with fever, but I would not give up on him.

The child opened his eyes briefly, grabbing my wrist with both hands as he opened his mouth. He wanted to speak to me. Tell me something... But he lost consciousness. He struggled against his sickness for days, and everyone believed he would succumb to his fever. I knew different.

My clothes swallowed him, but I was sure they'd keep him warm through the night. I slept on the floor beside my bed, waking at his every shiver and whine. I woke him up for breakfast and tried to push him to eat. "No—."

"Eat," I commanded. The boy grabbed my wrist with both hands. The look in his eye was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Wild. Untamed. Fierce.

Lightning struck the prison, knocking the power out, and we sat in my cell, staring at one another. His hair plastered against his forehead as illness seeped through his flesh. He wanted to speak. To protest. In the dark of my cell, it was the child's will against my own, and he was unafraid. "Pain," the boy whispered through clenched teeth, and then he released me from his grip. The boy lost consciousness, and my breath returned to me.

"He's not going to make it, Bane," Bird muttered.

"He'll live. I saw it in his eyes," I replied. My eyes were still fixed on the child. "He's stubborn."

And I was right. The boy fought his fever for several days, and on the fourth morning since his arrival, I felt his eyes. I turned to see him standing behind me, reading over my shoulder. "I've read it before... Would you like me to start from the beginning?" I offered. His legs gave, and I caught him. "Sit with me... You're still weak."

He didn't fight with me or protest. Instead, the boy sat quietly on my knee while I read the book aloud from the beginning. Halfway through the first chapter, I received my meal, and we ate together. "I'm Jason… Sorry for eating your food," Jason whispered.

"It's nothing," I replied. Jason was too small to eat a meal by himself. He was no burden to me in that respect.

I liked him. I wanted him to see that. "Where do you come from?"

"Gotham... Where am I?" Jason asked.

"Santa Prisca... Peña Dura," I answered, "You're far from home... When I get to Gotham someday, who should I return you to?"

"I don't have anybody to go home to," Jason mumbled, "But maybe I could show you around when you get there." I smiled.

"I would have it no other way, my friend," I replied.

"What's your name?" Jason asked.

"Bane. What is your name?" I questioned.

"Jason... I'm eleven years old," Jason paused, staring into my eyes before he continued. "And you're the man who saved my life."

"Jason, I didn't do anything. You fought for your life... And you won," I replied.

We talked for hours that day. He told me about movies and music and buildings so ancient, so ornate, and arcane that they seemed like a thing of dreams. Jason intrigued me. I think he intrigued Bird as well. "My church is so huge, and the windows are stained glass... They finally got the bell fixed-. Are you Catholic?" Jason wondered.

"My faith is nothing compared to yours," I replied, "But I suppose I am."

"God doesn't compare... He only loves," Jason whispered. His words were pure. Untainted by ulterior motives or feigned kindness. Jason meant what he said... And it gave me comfort.

As the months passed, Jason and I were inseparable. He imitated my behaviors, learned my ways, and with time, I shared my innermost thoughts with him. Jason understood that prison was only a state of mind. He never verbalized this belief, but his actions showed me he could not be imprisoned. Jason was free.

“My church has fruit trees as far as the eye can see and horses roaming free… There’s a lake, and the nuns are all kind. They smile a lot,” Jason whispered.

"My church is a home for all the children the world forgot. My church has no locks or gates. My church is freedom and warmth,” I whispered as Jason curled into a ball beside me. It was a game we played together at night. We described imaginary churches. I suppose most people would’ve thought I kept Jason around as a form of entertainment, but I didn’t. I’d grown to love him as a father would love a son, and I was unwilling to turn him away. He would be beside me in the world I built. He would be the prince of a new era in Gotham. The son they discarded like trash would rise above and become king.

“You don’t belong in prison. You would’ve made a good foster father,” Jason whispered. I looked at him for clarification. “A foster father… When kids lose their parents or when parents lose their kids-. They’re temporary family placements until kids could go home, or sometimes kids that don’t go home get adopted, and the foster family becomes their real family.”

“Could I have been your foster father?” I questioned. “Would you have wanted that?”

“Of course, I would’ve. I would’ve been lucky to have you around. I never would’ve run away if I had somebody like you,” Jason replied, “You’re nicer to me than my father was. Your church sounds like a good foster home...”

“I’d like you to be my son,” I whispered. They were the only words that managed to escape my mouth. Jason looked up at my expression and nodded.

“I’d like you to be my father,” Jason replied, shutting his eyes. I pulled my blanket over his shoulders. “I love you, Bane.”

I swallowed his words. Love. And he meant it. Unselfish love. “And I love you,” I whispered.

Jason drifted away sweetly beside me while I sat beside him, planning. I would rebuild Gotham for both of us. A place where he would never be cold or afraid or forgotten. Gotham would be our church. I moved his curls from his face, watching his expression soften. His chest rose and fell with every breath, and he murmured something in his sleep like a prayer.

#fic #wild eyes fic #batfam #batman rogues #Bane DC #Jason Todd #Birdy #Bruce Wayne #Parent Bane (DCU)#Canon Divergent AU #Father-Son Relationship #Jason Todd is Not Red Hood #Unconventional Families #Emotional Hurt/Comfort

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proceduralpassion · 8 months

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Promise

Day 3 of Narcoctober- Put your favorite playlist on shuffle and whatever song comes up first, that’s your prompt.

Characters: Horacio Carrillo x OC (Kiara Nash)

CW: language, SMUT (lap dance, leg grinding, bj)

A/N: Back at it again with another Narcotober fic. My shuffle song ended up being Promise by Ciara and I feel like I skirted the prompt just a little bit? I went with the general *aesthetic* of the song (known to be a lap dance fave) and the theme alluding to pleasing/devoting to ya mans. Horacio deserves some loving and Kiara is all too happy to give it. Did NOT edit but grammar/spelling errors build character idk. Enjoy!

Kiara’s hands rest on her husband’s back, admiring his frame but also massaging the stress out of his muscles. His head is slanted down towards his desk in their home office, focusing on the papers and maps in front of him.

“It’ll all still be here later, come back to the present,” she coaxed.

Horacio’s just been made the head of the Search Bloc and his discipline to the post is admirable. It was a role he was made for, rising to the challenge from the very first day. It made Kiara proud.

Nonetheless, it was getting late and she wanted nothing more than to spend some quality time with her husband.

His neck rolled, releasing even more tension. His eyes looked to the ceiling and she could tell by the way that he leaned back into her touch that she had got him. His hands eventually peel back from their place pressed against the edges of the desk.

Music could be faintly heard from the living room. Kiara had put in a cassette tape and had been dancing by her lonesome with a glass of wine until she decided she was tired of performing for an invisible audience. Entertaining her husband sounded so much more fun.

His hand blindly reaches for her and she turns him around and lightly tugs on his arm. Horacio follows his wife out in the common area of the living room and smirks, knowing that she’s up to something.

“You weren’t wearing that at dinner, mi amor.”

“I was not,” she confirms with an innocent smile.

She wore spandex shorts and a cropped sweatshirt at dinner, her usual attire she changed into after getting home from a shift at the hospital. Now, she wore his white button down shirt that he had worn earlier to church. Underneath were black double-seam stockings and high-heel stilettos.

When she pulls him closer, his hands find purchase around her waist while hers wrap around his neck. They sway together to the smooth harmonies of the song. He twirls her which garners a giggle and he takes her breath away when he dips her, holding onto her waist and raised leg. When they come back up together, they’re somehow closer than before.

The sultry tones of the next song changes the ambience in the air immediately. Kiara’s eyes veer up into the eyes of her husband. Eyes that have already darkened. She pushes lightly into his chest, sending him towards the couch.

“You’ve been working so hard lately, mi corazon,” Kiara expresses. She leans over him, leaving quaint kisses along his neck. Those kisses punctuate between her next words. “You. Deserve. A. Treat.”

She can see his body continue to relax and unravel as he sinks further into the sofa. She stands upright again and begins swaying to the rhythm. Her hips careen while her hands dally over the fabric of his shirt that she’s wearing. It slowly leaves her shoulders and she can see Horacio’s eyes follow the slipping material. She holds onto it while lifting a leg onto his. She lets him grab on it, letting his hands slide over the nylon fibers of her stockings. And then removes her leg.

Kiara expects an annoyed scowl, but he merely chuckles. His expression is lit with amusement.

“You like to toy with me, hermosa.”

Without missing a beat, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”

She continues rolling her hips until she’s sitting low on the coffee table behind her. She raises her leg again and makes a show of removing the garter fastened onto her tights. When she throws it, he catches it without flinch or hesitation. His eyes don’t leave her as he balls the stocking up and tosses it to the side. She’s taking the other off now and kicking off her heels before rising back up.

Horacio’s hand twitches, jumpy with the need to touch his wife. His sigh is light and full of high spirits. His eyes are dark with arousal but also entrancement. It’s a look she sometimes catches him wearing, not privy to the fact that he sometimes finds himself aghast with her beauty.

Kiara spins sensuously, jutting her ass towards him before allowing the white button to slip further from her frame. The straps of her black lacy bra become visible and she turns back to watch his eyes glued to every inch of skin she reveals. His hand rubs himself, finding limited room in his pants as his arousal grows.

The shirt drops to the floor and it’s taking everything for Horacio not to grab her up. Kiara turns back around and continues her strip show, playing with the straps of her bra. She smiles at him, allayed with how every ounce of stress has left his body. The only tension in his body seems to be centered within his pants. She’s enjoying tantalizing him, but grants a bit of mercy by stepping towards him and allowing him to touch her.

His hands immediately grab hold of her hips and she snickers with glee as she stumbles from his tight hold. He keeps her steady and their foreheads press against one another.

Their lips finally meet after all the teasing and she’s powerless against their kiss. He always had a way of paralyzing her with his kisses, sending her to another universe. It’s a kiss that she loses herself in, unaware of how much time has passed. The demand for oxygen necessitates that they separate but their heated embrace is in no way paused. His hands explore everywhere he can touch. Kiara takes off the T-shirt that he’d been wearing since stripping out of his white button down from earlier. When they’re close together again, he can feel her nipples poke through the laced material of her bra.

Soon enough, Horacio’s taking down the straps and blindly reaching back to unclasp the flimsy material. She grinds against his thigh and even through the material of her matching black panties and his slacks, he feels her warmth.

He hums with pleasure with his lips returning first to her lips, but then to her neck, and finally down to her breasts. His tongue swirls around one of her nipples and she grinds further onto him. They work together to remove the rest of the garter and then her panties are the last to go.

He hisses, “You spoil me so much, querida.”

“Always deserved,” Kiara responds. When she lifts up off him, she wastes no time dragging his slacks down and then boxer briefs.

She’s too focused on getting back to his lips and receiving another one of those earth-shattering kisses that she yelps when she feels him cup her. His fingers are delicate as they explore her core, maneuvering with a proficiency that only he has.

Kiara tugs on his lip when their kiss breaks again and she breaks out into a moan when he finds that sensitive bundle of nerves. Not wanting to be out done, her kisses are back to trailing down his body going lower and lower until her head is in his lap.

Throughout their time together, she’s found that there’s nothing quite like how she’s able to make him unravel in roils when she puts him in her mouth. At first, it’s tender kisses but pretty soon, she’s licking up and down his length, and finally taking him fully in one go.

His hisses and groans are a force of nature. There’s nothing like it for her. His left hand is grasping sweetly at her head, guiding her as she takes him further. His right hand finds hers and they clasp together as she continues forward. He’s ready to jump to the ceiling when he feels himself touch the back of her throat.

“Mi amor, mi amor,” he mewls while pulling at her hair. She’s raising up at his insistence and can’t outrun the giggle as he grabs her up the way he’s wanted to all night and lifts her up off the couch.

He utters between breaths, “What am I gonna do with you?”

Kiara grinds on his erection, “You don’t know what’d you do without me.”

Her giggles fill their bedroom when he throws her onto the bed. He stares at her for a moment, taking in her words.

“I truly don’t, vida mía.”

Their love echoes off the walls of their room for the rest of the night. Like always, it ends with Kiara feeling sated and adored and with Horacio grateful and astounded with her presence in his life.

A/N: Love to see Horacio and Kiara in their happily married era. I hope my IWBSS especially enjoyed this treat bc lord knows they deserve some happiness. I picture this taking place not long after Horacio becomes the head of the Search Bloc so their Medellin era before things get tough. Click here if you wanna be added to my taglist! Taglist: @asirensrage @drabbles-mc @supersanelyromantic @mysun-n-stars @ashlingnarcos @narcosfandomdiscord

#narcos #narcoctober #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x oc #horacio carrillo x kiara nash #c: kiara nash #iwbss

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didasgomas · 1 month

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Number your prayers

December 6th, 1981 - 5:47 a.m , Edenseye Church, main altar

HO - (Pastor) Hunter Owldust CS - (Priest) Caleb Stone

HO : You'll probably notice the people looking at you a bit weird, but I promise you they'll adapt eventually. It happened to me when I took the role too, so don't worry. It's just that, uh... Father Efrat was here for, like, since my parents were babies, you know?

CS : I understand. I can imagine such a change to be overwhelming.

HO : Yeah, but to be honest, Father Efrat was really needing that retirement...

CS : How old is he, if you don't mind me asking?

HO : Uh... he turned 98 this July. Yeah, I think if you hadn't offered to replace him, he would have chosen me *nervous laughter*

CS : Does the idea of becoming the next Father upset you?

HO : Not really, don't get me wrong. I like to work for the Church, but as just the Pastor I get to spend much more time outside rather than inside, if you get me.

CS : Of course

HO : Now that I remember, you're much older than me, right?

CS : Indeed. I am perhaps what you youth call "old man"

HO : Ah no, goodness! I promise you, no one is going to call you that!

CS : I'm just playing around, don't worry

HO : I mean, you're old enough to be my dad, cause I'm only 46, but no one is going to be disrespectful towards you

CS : I know

HO : Ah, I just remembered something! Come with me!

December 6th, 1981 - 5:52 a.m , Edenseye Church, basement HO : You seeing this thing? Looks like just a very used candle holder on the wall, right? But if you do this...

*sounds of a mechanism activating and a door unlocking*

HO : Boom, you open a secret hidden door

CS : Fascinating...

HO : I know, right? Apparently it was some kind of dungeon when this church was some other building, that's why there's so many cells or whatever they're called

CS : Including the handcuffs?

HO : Yeah, I think

CS : And what about this?

HO : "This" what?

CS : Why is there a recently made steel door in the middle of a decaying old dungeon?

HO : Ah, that. Well, I'm not fully sure, but I think it arrived here from after Saint Mathilde's uh...

CS : Was destroyed?

HO : Yeah... It's a bit of a... "taboo" to talk about it here and the other villages. It was almost as important of a city as the county capital, you know?

CS : Yes, I know

HO : I think it was with the police before. Like, the local prison, you know? That's why there's a little door there on the bottom, it was where they passed the food to the other side. I think.

CS : And why was it just, left on the floor like this?

HO : Honestly, I think Father Efrat was just like "yeah, just leave it there, it's not like anyone knows about the secret entrance anyway" or something along those lines

CS : You're not taking this one bit seriously, are you?

HO : Not really

December 17th, 1981 - 3:30 p.m , Edenseye

HO - (Pastor) Hunter Owldust DI - (Villager) Drew Inshaw

HO : So, you want my help with finding your daughter? DI : Yes, my eldest, Sarah. Please, we need to find her- HO : Okay, okay, calm down, Mr. Inshaw. Can you tell me what happened? DI : It was five days ago. She sometimes runs away to visit her mother in Evermoor, so me and my wife are used to her not being home for two or three days. But she didn't show up back home yesterday at all. My and my wife spent the entire afternoon searching all around the village, but no one had seen her. HO : Not even in Olivecloud? DI : No, not even there. HO : Did you at least talk to her mother? DI : Yes! I went to talk to her face to face this morning, but she told me Sarah had left the day before yesterday! HO : Alright, and what did you do afterwards? DI : I went to the Father just a couple hours ago, I wanted to ask if there was a possibility to start a search for her, but... HO : ...But? DI : But he didn't even know who she was! HO : Well, I think that's normal, he's still meeting everyone and getting used to our village DI : I- I guess. But he did let us look around for her for just a while, and she wasn't in the church. HO : So you want me to help with the search instead? DI : Please Pastor, she's still only a teenager! If she's gone somewhere else outside of here, she could get herself in danger! HO : *sigh* How about this: I'll look around a bit myself, and if I don't find any clues, I'll talk to Father Caleb about opening the search. Does it sound enough? DI : Yes! Oh thank you so much, Hunter! HO : It's my duty to help, isn't it?

December 18th, 1981 - 23:29 p.m , Edenseye Church

HO - (Pastor) Hunter Owldust

HO : (whispering to self) I don't really expect to find anything there, but...

*sounds of stairs creaking*

HO : ... Hair? Why was she down here? *sounds of footsteps* *sounds of a mechanism activating and a door unlocking*

HO : (whispering) Blood...

*sounds of footsteps*

*low growling similar to that of a wild wolf*

HO : OH MY LORD! OH GOD!

*growling gets louder* *sounds of something hitting metal bars*

HO : Can- Can you still hear me?! Who did this to you?!

*sounds of a mechanism activating and a door locking*

HO : Who- Who's there?!

*creaking noise similar to floorboards*

*loud screams before something heavy falls to the ground*

December 19th, 1981 - 9:20 a.m , Olivecloud market square

RM - (Villager) Rita Malyn TQ - (Villager) Theresa Quartermaine

[passing conversation]

TQ : Any news on the Inshaw girl from Edenseye? RM : I heard her father is going to give up searching for her TQ : Because the Pastor is gone now too? RM : Yes. He thinks that she was able to convince the Pastor to let her run away, and that he had his own motives for leaving TQ : Maybe it has to do with his sister RM : Maybe. It's been years since they last saw each other. But why he didn't warn anyone is still so confusing TQ : Maybe he thought everyone would be fine since they have a new Priest RM : Perhaps. But do you think he's ever going to return? TQ : I don't know. Maybe yes, maybe not

Short-story for my "In Mortality" au of @missr3n3 's cdta story because my creative ass can't keep focused on just one thing at a time

I chose the title because it sounds spooky but also because the first mention of Caleb (the biblical spy) is in Numbers 13

#au of cdta #cdta in mortality #my writing #cut down the altar #cdta #religious themes #might add more tags later

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voiceofthesilly · 3 months

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Hullo! For the Scarlet Hollow ask game:

5, (the MC one, you’ve told us a bit about them but I’d love to hear more), 8, and 13

Oh boy nothing i enjoy more than talking about my guy >:]

I do have a few mcs, but my main one is Sly, the worst guy you've ever met

His normal playthrough traits are Keen Eye and Street Smart, I just started a hardcore one with him though with extra Book Smart

He's a first year associate in a big law firm in Davenport, Iowa. Would leave tomorrow if he could — he might be good at reading people, but he's so focused on good impressions that he never really connected with anyone. So pretty much he's just spending all his time in a shitty job, sleeps two and half hours during the week and the entire day at weekends, and has no family or friends other than Truck. The first half day he spent in the Holler he almost considered moving there as soon as he paid off the debt. By now he's a wreck questioning all his morals (doesn't help that he was best at finding loopholes to let employers get away with shit! If he survives this week, as soon as possible he's switching to help the employees. Totally. Uh huh) and just generally trying to figure out if the two deaths that already occured are more of his fault or some outside force. He even stopped wearing clean clothes for gods sake. Will have to change that though because pretty sure those are a bit bloody now. From the matricide

It's uh. More complicated now

My other mcs are:

Cain [it/they/he] (dedicated hardcore mode guy), with mystical, powerful build and street smart traits. They live in a shack in someone's garden and don't know what it's studying at the community college . I think . It's been a moment . He prides himself in being sort of an asshole but they do ultimately do the right thing whenever it's possible

Ashton [she/her], powerful build and booksmart, lives in the flooding basement and works in a chain coffee shop. She'd love to move somewhere closer to nature, but for now La Crosse has to do — especially since she's already made plans to leave with Kaneeka

Last one is Seraphine [they/them] and they're my official asshole playthrough I just started. Speak with animals and hot combo, they do whatever is most entertaining to them because honestly if you speak with animals that's clear sign you're god's favourite. Unfortunately I feel bad about being an asshole so haven't gotten to the living situation yet

For now — first episode Duke or Gretchen. That's mostly bc I played with a bunch of buddies after my first playthrough, so I've seen the aftermath of some decisions before I had to make them myself

In my original playthrough I only really had to make that first choice — keen eye spared me the mines (tbh would probably be harder for me), and bc rosalina was uninjured i didn't really feel it's crucial to save her house . And episode four I went in blind and really thought I could fix him (spoiler alert. Bad idea). So I didn't take the tranqulisers to not break Reese's trust, and just sorta didn't have a choice at last

A strong contender would be episode four in my latest playthrough though, I technically knew what was gonna happen but man locking him up sucked

13.

Just the pretty obvious ones tbh — the church and Tulip's imaginary friends being important, Avery's party going to shit, maybe perhaps a seal in the Tremaine household, since it was featured in the historical buildings

#scarlet hollow #ask game #thanks for the opportunity to ramble about my guy i love him so much

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str4ng3rdanger · 1 year

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what're your headcanons for how chuckerboose got together?

ooh boy. oh man oh man you’ve done it now

p.s. i headcanon church with they/he pronouns and that’ll be shown throughout the text (+ she/they tex. i think theyre both nonbinary in opposing masc/femme directions)

double p.s. — i haven’t seen past s15 yet and so anything from really later on could affects things but definitely not by a lot but if it does i’ll update this post

Even from the first episode, the dynamic between Church, Tucker, and Caboose is unparalleled, to me, and yet, just from there I believe they have some kind of attraction for each other and with how early on it begins, it only gets to manifest even longer over the course of the series.

If we look to Season 14, Episode 4, the first interaction with Church is finding Tucker annoying, although this applies to most ships in the franchise, so we will obviously just build up from there. Considering Flowers is often checking on Vic and being somewhat melodramatic on his own, it could be assumed that Church and Tucker get a lot of time on their own to bond together. Also, considering a vast majority of the time the Reds and Blues are willing to do anything out of boredom, Church and Tucker must have had many conversations or done things the other suggests because they merely have nothing better to do. By this concept, they’d have learned things about each other that go below the surface of “Tucker is annoying” and “Church is mean” and also find out things the other likes to do. I imagine it’s also part of why Tucker seems so content and even happy with how their situation was before with just him, Church (his normal “best friend”) and Flowers (his NOT father figure that he would NEVER project onto WHAT are you talking about) being on Blue Team. I also assume that because he loved the team dynamic then, that it plays into why he shows so much scorn for Caboose early into Caboose’s arrival—but first, I imagine Flowers’ death plays into things a bit as well.

Depending on how long it was between the death of Flowers and Caboose’s arrival gives way for even more Chucker-related events before we even hit Chuckerboose. Tucker only calls dibs on the armor but I imagine that with how content he was before, he’d find it was a bit weird feeling with Flowers not leading them anymore, and considering at the time he never expected to be leading anything, he likely would find himself looking to Church more than ever to not just keep him company, but now to be all he has in the canyon. This is where I believe the attraction really begins and he tries to be around Church all the time (excluding … “alone time” … 💀) and it would also be why Caboose’s arrival throws things off so much for him.

Maintaining the Tucker focus for a bit, we only find out that Church has a “girlfriend” (just you wait until you find out for yourself how divorced you and your “girlfriend” are and how much you’re only “together” out of obligation due to your weird sense of memory and need to do what the residual memories of who you’re based on state and how you’re much better as a mlm/w/w bestie duo) around Season 1, Episode 4 and that likely causes some internal struggles with Tucker. For one, I imagine that he is totally bisexual but at this point in time is just now realizing it—so he wonders why he is so upset learning that Church has a girlfriend, because why should he care? Why is that something that won’t get out of his head? There is no way he could be jealous of his “best friend’s” girlfriend because obviously he and Church are just best friends. He also likely finds himself slowly growing jealous of Church spending more time with Caboose as well, and it leads to a lot of frustration for Tucker that he doesn’t express for a while and tries to shove away and ignore. I imagine that by Season 1, Episode 13 Tucker finally admits it to himself that it is in fact a gigantic crush that he has on Church that is the source of these feelings, as he knows for certain that is what it is due to the envious feeling he has reaching an all-time high at knowing Church and his “girlfriend” are to be reunited soon and how that could ruin his chances of being with Church—because that is what he wants.

With all this Tucker focus you’d think this was a Chucker post—so, onto Caboose. Caboose ended up in Blood Gulch was a fluke, as seen in Season 14, Episode 4. I imagine he was rushed out to Blood Gulch as the death of Flowers was not only very sudden, but they may not have even registered the list change at the time (but why question it, when it was part of a plan and most certainly not a fluke?) and so Caboose was not given much time to really process what was going on. He may not have even made it too far out of basic training if he got through it at all, and so I assume that Caboose was very anxious about being sent out to an actual outpost so soon, and it was likely made out to be far more important than it really is as well, so I assume Caboose was under a lot of pressure showing up at Blood Gulch (which is also why I imagine it takes a few episodes for him to really develop the personality he maintains later throughout the show. It isn’t just me who thinks that Caboose felt way out of character in early s1 compared to later on, right?) and he tries to mask (which is why he seems out of character, that’s his masking attempt that he doesn’t really ever do again due to the following) but Church is able to see through it even if it’s somewhat got Tucker fooled, so Church approaches Caboose alone at some point and asks him how he’s really doing and Caboose is nervous but he’s also too afraid to not say anything so he tells Church about how confusing things are and how this isn’t what he thought he was getting into at all (considering the simulation troops all seem to have believed they’d be fighting aliens, who knew what Caboose expected? … it probably wasn’t this) and so he was super worried about everything, especially how he acted around Church and Tucker due to how hyped up this mission was for him. Church, in a quiet moment of sympathy, comforts Caboose. This is something Caboose is so unfamiliar with at the time, that he immediately latches onto Church from then onward—what could possibly be wrong about Church? Church is the one that made him start to feel at home in Blood Gulch, the first person to show him kindness in his experience being enlisted thus far, and decidedly now his best friend. Nobody is more important than Church—and that is a completely normal and totally straight and normal platonic thing to imagine! (i say before sarcasm emits from my body into the air like a noxious gas)

This conflicts with Tucker’s view of Church, of course, as for Tucker, Church is supposed to be his best friend (-turned crush) and now Church is spending time with Caboose the same way they would spend time with him. At the time, Tucker hadn’t really taken the chance to spend any quality time alone with Caboose, instead brooding internally about how Church wasn’t giving him the same attention he got before when it was just Flowers, Church, and himself. Around this time as well, the narrative is picking up. However, we’ve gone over the attraction to Church from both Tucker and Caboose, but what of Church himself…?

Church, at least per my main headcanon, doesn’t love Tex—not romantically, anyway. Church thinks he loves Tex. They think they have to love Tex because she is supposed to be their girlfriend because that’s what they remember of her. Tex plays back into it, though it never feels genuine, because she also has residual memories telling her what to believe, but she doesn’t feel anything romantically towards Church and is only stringing along the concept of them and Church being in a relationship because “if we both are thinking we’re supposed to be together, and our memories imply we’ve been together—even if that’s a bit jumbled for one or both of us, it may as well be how things are, isn’t it?” This is why I imagine that Church chases after Tex as desperately as he does—he likes Tucker for all the reasons Tucker likes him. He’s grown to find Caboose sweet and endearing, especially when he has such a cynical view of things. Tex is just … who he thinks he should love. That’s why he never says anything to either Tucker or Caboose—for one, he is supposed to be with Tex, so how could he be with either of them? Then, there’s the fact that he likes them both. How are they meant to deal with that? … they don’t, at least, not for a while.

Come Season 3, Episode 6 where the “time travel” occurs. Throughout the season until Church returns to the main group in Season 3, Episode 14, Tucker is constantly insisting that they need to “go find Church” and even Caboose seems to handle it better than Tucker, which is very surprising (to be fair it’s only the first time Church disappears by mysterious means outside of when he’s initially “killed”), which is NORMAL behavior from a COMPLETELY PLATONIC BEST FRIEND. yeah. At any rate, I imagine that Tucker is given, in reality, his first chance to get to know the others from his canyon outside of Church considering how much he avoided people that weren’t Church, and I think that Caboose would empathize with Tucker’s behavior and it’d give him some more appreciation of Tucker—but he won’t admit that yet, because when they find Church, he needs Church to know that he wasn’t trying to replace him with Tucker and that he knew without Tucker saying anything that they needed to find Church. “Stupid Tucker”, he’d comment, because they would obviously find Church, so why mention it so much? … even if he’s thinking the same thing and wants to say so twice as much as Tucker? (god they are so dysfunctional without church)

Jumping a bit ahead, we reach Season 4, Episode 9 where all the Blues except for Church go on the quest with Honk-Honk, and I believe the biggest reason why Church wanted them all to go without coming along himself is that after getting through his whole mess of finding his way back to the guys, he’s a bit overstimulated and tired and wants some alone time before he has to be surrounded by them all again. This gives Tuckboose some time to develop—with it being a smaller, more selective group now (especially since Tex doesn’t tag along formally until Season 4, Episode 11) and Tucker and Caboose likely being told by Andy at some point to stop asking questions about the quest, they are left with each other to talk to. They find that they have some more things in common than expected and are more interesting to the other than they’d have thought. Plus, when they go on their way back from the quest in Season 4, Episode 14, they don’t even have the alien with them (though it may mean Caboose had to carry Andy the whole time. Yikes.) and don’t have the quest to talk about (aside from how much it sucked) and so they get even more bonding time. I imagine at some point, Caboose would bring up how excited he is to see Church again and this would be Tucker’s turn to realize how he and Caboose feel so similarly, and it leaves him to think about it (amidst the fact that he’s starting to feel “sick”) and reevaluate the dynamic between himself, Church, and Caboose.

Season 5 has so much happening, but I think it’s when Chuckerboose begins to become comfortable with the fact that they all like each other, just not with the concept of telling it to each other. They act gay as hell and might even be a little scandalous with one another but of course they would make up excuses as to why that is and why they are DEFINITELY NOT GAY for each other. Why would you even think that.

At any rate, Tex’s ship exploding in the sky may have been bad news to Church (even if he isn’t romantically invested with her, they care about her on a deeper level and it devastates him all the same) though for Tucker and Caboose, while they recognize how it affects Church, realize … “hey. doesn’t that make him kind of single.” This gives them both some kind of hope that things don’t have to be left the way they are, with pining on all sides … and then before either get the courage or ability to ask Church to date them, they’re transferred out of Blood Gulch.

What makes it so hard for Tucker, is he has such a low self-esteem that he can’t imagine Church (or Caboose) saying yes back to him, even if he and Church (and Caboose) already seem like they’re a couple at this point. Caboose’s difficulty with it is he knows it’s a different, deeper feeling than he’s used to, and he doesn’t know how to articulate it. Church, meanwhile, is worried about ruining what they have going on already—they’re already bickering at each other (affectionately) enough as is, why would he want to potentially send the team into a spiral of scorn for each other? Plus, Tex just went away—he should have more respect for them, shouldn’t he? Immediately asking two guys out after her death would be a bit. Rude. So he thinks.

Then, they’re all split up and Washington is there to bring them back together—kind of. Season 6, Episode 4. Bro. Caboose’s “I know that voice!” and Church’s … reaction. I believe Church tries to shoot Caboose because, well, firstly, none of them have a grip on the concept of actually killing each other and at this point in time probably expect them to pop up as ghosts, too, and secondly, Church just spent nearly two years alone. To suddenly realize he’ll have to confront feelings he’s been pushing away for a very long time again is likely somewhat jarring and panic-inducing. Caboose, meanwhile, faces it more simplistically: Church is there! He gets to see the guy he loves again! That’s great! It’s fantastic! … and then boom. The rest of season 6. The way Caboose is so complacent and tolerant of everything going on around him as Church is following Wash around for most of what’s going on just shows how he wants to simply be there for Church. In Season 6, Episode 19, Caboose even mentions how Church will want his body for when they get out of this, which means that Church likely lied to Caboose about making it back (as he knew what he was doing was sacrifice, no matter how much he played it off) so he’d remain positive for the rest of the mission, and hoped that Caboose would be okay after he found out what Church had done—and as expected, Caboose goes along with things. In the final shot of the drive-away scene, Caboose drives off a CLIFF for (essentially) Church. oh yeah he’s in love man

One devastating thing is Tucker would never again see Alpha Church after they move out of Blood Gulch—I imagine that when they left, Church gave Tucker some locket he meant to give to Tex, and told him to “not think too much into it” and left it at that—and in Tucker’s time before he’s found in Season 7, I imagine that keeps him going. Caboose is (very clearly) losing his mind alone in Season 7, trying to frankenstein up a robot body for Epsilon so he won’t feel so alone, speaking to it about the stories of the adventures he and Church have had as if it were the same Church, and trying to cope with his loneliness and the fact that the Alpha Church died are all things that impact Caboose for a long time—so long, in fact, that I imagine by post Season 8, when things die back down for the Reds and Blues, that Caboose sleeps with Tucker because he’s afraid of being left alone in the dark and it’s too scary for him to sleep like that. Tucker pretends he can’t stand it but it somewhat overjoys him.

Back to S7-8, Caboose at the time is fixated on getting Church back again, because he has to—he always has to, because he needs Church. Church makes him feel validated and safe and loved—Tucker is trying to process everything going on, and so he’s going through the motions and is even upset by the time we reach late S8. Caboose follows Church’s orders like crazy—helping them get into a body and helping them get where they need to go and helping them with anything, even with bringing Tex back (which is a roadblock in their relationship), all because he loves Church. Epsilon Church, though while he does love Caboose and Tucker (I imagine Caboose left Tucker out of the stories he told Epsilon out of a partial unfair spite at Tucker not being there with him and out of a crazed hope it’d mean Church would love him more when he got Church back), he’s trying to figure out what is going on in their memories first—so he becomes focused on Tex again. This focus takes him to the Season 8 finale, where he feels so morally obligated (even down to his code) to go after Tex that he has to leave Caboose and Tucker behind—and Caboose just watches as he does so. It hurts like betrayal, but it hurts worse that Church is gone.

Before Church is rescued in the Season 9 finale, Caboose and Tucker have to get used to Washington being their leader. Caboose tries to pretend it’s Church to make it hurt less, and Tucker tries to convince Caboose that it isn’t Church, no matter what Caboose tries to think. They comfort each other and keep each other going during this weird period of adjusting, and when Carolina comes along to boss them around. For Church—when he forgets Tex, I imagine him not following the others along on their adventure is his way of “forgetting” them, without actually doing so. With Tex, he tells them about how they’re stuck in a loop of going down each new iteration of theirselves to try and find each other again, only to have less and less of the feelings the previous versions of themselves did. So, he genuinely wants to be done chasing her down, and wants to be done saying “she’s my girlfriend” as an obligation—he “forgets” Tucker and Caboose by letting them go because he wants to be at peace in his final moments, and for that, he wants to sit with his thoughts alone. Then he’s rescued.

I imagine that Church’s initial frustration comes from the same place it always done—he’s finally come to terms with being alone and never seeing his two lovers again, but then they come back and he’s likely scared that he’ll have to go through it all over again (they haven’t even admitted it to each other!!! got damn!!!!) and so he lashes out, as that’s his typical response to things. Caboose has been steadily readjusting to Washington not being Church, which is why he slips up with calling Wash by Church’s name in Season 10, Episode 1, and all three of them are glad to be reunited, no matter how scrambled things feel.

Then, there’s everything from Season 10. Church has gotten the chance to remember himself and has his priorities set on bringing the Director to justice, and assumes that Tucker and Caboose would have his back like always, but they’re tired—physically and emotionally. They spent so much time trying to just get Church back, and then Church has something new to run off and do, and they’re scared and upset by Carolina—they realize at the last second about how they should be there with Church—lashing out is just what he does, but … Season 10, Episode 18 … bro. This episode is the culmination of Chuckerboose’s struggles on all sides. Tucker is wondering why Church is so peeved, Church snaps at everyone, and it’s so much that even Caboose walks away. The three all have expectations from each other and are dealing with so much (not to mention, again, they all likely are still thinking of how to tell each other how much they like each other!!!!!) that they’re feeling such a strain, but they come together at the end, because Caboose and Tucker realize how they would usually never let Church down like this—and Church says he’ll apologize profusely when they get the chance. They all realize they belong together. Too bad it doesn’t stay that way, again!

Season 11: Tuckboose cope with missing Church again. We see this throughout the entire season, with Tucker being defiant to Wash and wishing things were how they were back in Blood Gulch, and Caboose having “off days” (Washington saying “one of his off days” implies it happens frequently, and Tucker seems highly aware of it, too) go to show that they aren’t doing well—if anything, they’re doing worse than before because they know that Church isn’t “gone forever” as they thought, and they’re having to deal with the fact that he’s out there…just not with them. He always has something to choose over them, no matter how much they love him and he loves them. The Tuckboose is violently potent at this point with how much Caboose and Tucker can empathize with each other and care for each other—they’re trying so hard to get each other through this.

Then, in Season 12, Episode 10, Chuckerboose is finally reunited once again. You know how it goes. Tucker is so violently upset and yet glad to be back with Church that he curses him out and then goes to try and hug him the second they lock eyes. Caboose is immediately relieved, like every other time they finally get Church back—he never wants to harbor hatred towards Church for the same reason he tells Tucker: if he did that, then him and Church would just be upset and it’d make a cycle of being unhappy when they’re literally in love with each other. Church is mad because that’s their default reaction to things—they want to apologize, but don’t know how. I headcanon that when Tucker goes to talk to Church, he asks Carolina if it can be alone, and has Caboose with him.

FINALLY: WHAT WE ARE HERE FOR. When apologizing to each other, Tucker finally admits that he likes Church and Caboose to their faces and says it’s why he’s so upset every time Church goes away, because he loves him. Church and Caboose are surprised, mainly since Church didn’t expect to be so called out and Caboose didn’t know how to say it himself, and Tucker didn’t expect them to reciprocate but they DID. Caboose then says something about how when people have been in love that long they’re usually married and Tucker gets all sheepish and says he’d. considered. something like that, and gets out some rings he’d had since SEASON 7 WHEN HE WAS RELOCATED. Tucker stated in Season 7 that he knew Church was an A.I. all along so he tells Church to “just make them appear” and Church is like “🙄 (affectionate)” and does so, with Tucker and Caboose exchanging the physical rings—they all swore to actually be married when they finished dealing with things on Chorus. It’s a small moment of things being alright before they become the worst ever of all time possible. We already know … (begins to weep) … before we get into that, brief mention that Church mentioned he “wanted to have faith” in Tucker’s plan—he didn’t even know if Tucker’s plan for the S12 finale would work, but he went through with it anyway, because it was the best hope they had—the admiration Church has for how far Tucker has come…bro. okay back to sadness

Season 13, Episode 20. It pains Church so much to have to be apart from his lovers, and for the final time, too—but he does it for them. Again, he knows they won’t know he’s gone until after the day is saved, which is what the Alpha did, too. Until the events of Season 15, they’re left to be together coping with the loss of Church again, but this time they know Church isn’t going to come back—mainly.

there’s more I could add but this post is so long so like yeah

tl;dr: they get engaged in s12 and are gay gay homosexual gay

#red vs blue #rvb #chuckerboose #rvb church #rvb tucker #rvb caboose #stranger asks #stranger static

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giftofshewbread · 10 months

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Your Own Peril

:: By Daymond Duck Published on: July 29, 2023

Again and again, Jesus told His people to watch for the signs of His coming, but there is silence in many pulpits. Most of those in the pews are not watching, and if someone tries to alert them to what is going on, there is a big chance that they will remind us that Jesus said, “Of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father in heaven” (Matt. 24:36).

While I do not believe that anyone knows the day and hour, I sometimes wonder if that is the only thing they know about the subject.

When it comes to Matt. 24:36, there is good reason that Jesus was saying no one knows the day or hour that Heaven and earth will pass away (Matt. 24:35), not no one knows the day or the hour of His Second Coming.

Concerning those that choose not to watch, it is important to remember that Jesus (He gave the Book of Revelation) said, “If therefore thou shalt not watch, I will come on thee as a thief, and thou shalt not know what hour I will come upon thee” (Rev. 3:3).

On July 16, 2023, the Assistant Editor of The Christian Post, Leah Klett, interviewed well-known pastor, author, TV preacher, and Bible prophecy expert David Jeremiah.

Pastor Jeremiah urged Christians to be ready for Jesus to come for His Church (the Rapture).

He talked about some of the things that Jesus told Christians to watch for, and He warned that those that are ignoring the reality of current events (signs) are doing so at their own peril.

I cannot put words in Pastor Jeremiah’s mouth, but it sounds to me like he was telling Christians that there could be consequences to disobeying Jesus.

Some of the consequences might be loved ones left behind, no crown of righteousness (II Tim. 4:8), fewer rewards in Heaven, embarrassment when one stands before the Judgment Seat of Christ (II Cor. 5:10), etc.

It is sad that so many pastors and church members are ignoring 25-40% of the Bible, and those that are doing it are doing it at their own peril.

Here are some recent signs that we could be getting close to the Rapture:

One, concerning the ashes of a red heifer without spot or blemish (a requirement for cleansing priests who build or serve at a rebuilt Temple): last week, I mentioned that the Jews are building a tourist and research center at Shiloh (where the tabernacle stood for about 300 years after they returned to the Promised Land from Egypt).

I mentioned that on July 16, 2023, it was reported that the Jews had moved a 22-month-old red heifer to the facility and that they would soon move two more there so visitors can view (but not touch) them.

Since then, I have seen another article that said those three red heifers are pure and without blemish.

If just one of them remains unblemished until early next year, it can be sacrificed, and priests can be cleansed to build and serve at the next Temple.

Two, concerning a cashless society and the tracking of all buying and selling: on July 20, 2023, the U.S. Federal Reserve activated its FedNow service.

The service began with about 35 banks and credit unions, and more are expected to sign up with each passing day.

As I understand it, FedNow is a system that converts cash into a digital currency that can be instantly transferred electronically.

According to my understanding, at this point in time, it is a voluntary system with a few nice features (fast, convenient, will not need germ-laden cash, cheaper than printing money, good for the economy, etc.) that will be promoted to get people to sign up.

Those that are wondering if they should sign up for all these goodies should know that critics say FedNow is a first step to a Central Bank Digital Currency (CBDC).

The next step will be to require bank customers to have a digital ID (with face scan, hand scan, or whatever), then FedNow will be replaced by a CBDC, then the government will know what any individual is buying and selling, be able to control how much they spend, control what they buy and sell, shut down or seize their bank account, etc. (This will be a major step toward the Mark of the Beast, but it is not the Mark of the Beast.)

While FedNow is coming on the scene and getting banks and people to sign up, bank customers will have two options: cash or digital money.

But after enough people get a digital ID, digital money will be the only option, and customers will have no choice.

Next, CBDCs will be merged into a global platform or a global currency.

Finally, people will be required to take the name, number (666), or Mark of the Antichrist if they want to buy and sell.

Simply put, the ball has started rolling downhill toward the Mark of the Beast.

The Rapture will happen a minimum of three and one-half years before society gets there.

People that ignore this are doing so at their own peril.

Have you got that:

Step one, FedNow is up and running.

Step two, a digital ID (with face scan, eye scan, or whatever).

Step three, replace FedNow with CBDC.

Step four, merge CBDCs of individual nations into a global system.

Step five, require people to take the name, number, or Mark of their government (the chosen leader of the New World Order).

(Note: I am not an expert, but I get a lot of e-mails asking, “When, etc.,” and this is my understanding. But remember that the fulfillment of Bible prophecy will get faster and faster at the end of the age, and these steps could happen very fast.)

(More: Understand that we are transitioning from more than 190 sovereign nations to a one-world government. The transition went into effect with the Sustainable Development Goals on Jan. 1, 2016. The original goal was a 14-year transition—2016 to 2030—but there will be a meeting on Sept. 18-19 to try to speed it up. The five steps above are steps in that transition. Globalists thought it would be next to impossible to go from more than 190 nations to a one-world government in one day. They decided to do it in steps, and we are now more than halfway through the transition. They were also afraid that people would be more likely to riot if they tried to transition too fast. They want to ease into it as much as possible.)

(My opinion: Even if the UN agrees on Sept. 18-19 to speed up the transition to a world government, it will still be a while before the Antichrist confirms it and rises to power. Why? Because Ten Kings must appear before the Antichrist appears.)

Three, concerning signs in the sun and moon (Acts 2:20), it is not clear what those signs are, but on July 20, 2023, it was reported that the earth has been struck by unusually powerful eruptions on the sun over the last two months.

The sun goes through cycles, and scientists were expecting an increase in solar activity in 2025 but not in 2023.

The question is will the eruptions worsen between now and 2025?

Just know that the Bible says there will be signs, the eruptions are unusually strong, they are early, and they are probably impacting Earth’s climate more than cows passing gas.

(More: Golf ball to tennis ball-size hail broke through the roof of a Walmart store in Rice Lake, Wis., striking customers and scattering hailstones on the floor.)

(More: On July 21, 2023, it was reported that more than 95 million Americans were under heat watches and warnings from Florida to California. Many records were broken, and the temperature in Phoenix, Ariz., reached 110 degrees Fahrenheit or more for 21 days in a row.)

(More: On July 24, 2023, the water temperature at a buoy in Manatee Bay, Florida, was 101.1 degrees Fahrenheit. Several surrounding buoys verified this record-setting number by reporting temperatures above 99 degrees.)

(Question: With record-setting temperatures in the ocean at the same time that there are powerful eruptions on the sun, why do some politicians and so-called scientists blame climate change on the cows and farmers using too much fertilizer? Are they mentally challenged, pushing an evil globalist plan, or what?)

Four, concerning famine at the end of the age: on July 20-21, 2023, with millions of people near starvation in Africa, Russian missiles destroyed grain storage facilities and 60,000 tons of grain on Ukraine’s Black Sea Coast.

Five, concerning the turmoil in Israel since Jan. 2023 over the Reasonableness Standards Bill that will allow the elected officials in Israel’s Knesset to overrule controversial decisions by unelected liberal judges and possibly change Israel’s future from that of a secular nation to that of a religious nation: as of July 24, 2023, key parts of the bill have passed votes in the Knesset three times, and the bill is now the law of the land.

Israel will be more religious and conservative in the future than it has been in the past.

(FYI: I am not saying rebuilding the Temple and resuming the animal sacrifices is a good thing, but I am saying the Word of God must be fulfilled, and this is a major step in that direction. According to Scripture, Jewish priests will rebuild the Temple, resume the animal sacrifices, the Antichrist will defile the Temple and stop the animal sacrifices at the middle of the Tribulation Period, the Jews in Judea will realize they made a mistake, flee into the wilderness, and turn to Jesus at the end of the Tribulation Period. The Reasonableness Standards Bill that just passed is a move in that direction. They must rebuild the Temple and go through the Tribulation Period before they get saved.)

(My opinion: To be honest, Satan is using the issue to try to weaken and destroy Israel and prevent the Second Coming. He does not have a chance.)

(More: More than a thousand pilots threatened not to show up for duty if the Reasonableness Standards Bill passed, and readers have expressed concern about the safety of Israel if the Battle of Gog and Magog broke out. Know that God is the true Defender of Israel and not the pilots. The weaker Israel is when that war takes place, the more glory He will get; Ezek. 39:1-7.)

(More: There are a lot of gays in Israel that are terrified that Israel will go back under the anti-gay Law of Moses. There are many Muslims and others that are afraid that the religious Jews will demand that Israel gets all the Promised Land, and that would start a war. I believe we are watching a major shift in Israeli politics and religion.)

FYI: God does not send anyone to Hell (all of us are born with a sin nature and destined to go to Hell because we sin), but God has provided a way (Jesus) for everyone to go to Heaven (and He is the only way to get there; John 14:6).

Finally, are you Rapture Ready?

If you want to be rapture ready and go to Heaven, you must be born again (John 3:3). God loves you, and if you have not done so, sincerely admit that you are a sinner; believe that Jesus is the virgin-born, sinless Son of God who died for the sins of the world, was buried, and raised from the dead; ask Him to forgive your sins, cleanse you, come into your heart and be your Saviour; then tell someone that you have done this.

#trending #july #now #today #hope #love #jesus #god #prophecy #truth #rapture

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megantheestallion-ismypresident · 10 months

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The Originals ships opinions

( I feel like the way they found each other was really cute because even though keelin was held captive, you could tell that they still enjoy their time together. Their relationship moved really quickly but the way keelin stuck by Freya's side when she needed her the most was so nice because Freya really deserved it. One thing that really upset me about their relationship was how Freya was always self sabotaging it. She was always worried that she wasn't going enough, and she was putting her family's happiness above her own. Freya really deserved her happy ending with keelin and I'm really happy she got it. There relationship was based off of love and support and they were so mature to talk about things and get through things together instead of running away from it. I 💯 percent love them together and they were a good couple.

( y'all might get mad or offended over this one but it needs to be said. I think it's just me but I really did not care for their relationship. I feel like it was really rushed and we never saw them being happy together. They were always fighting for each other, and trying to save each other's lives. Like we hardly ever seen them get to be happy, we didn't get to see any moments of them hanging out being themselves. I do think that there love for each other was there. I just wishes we got to see a little more of a build up for it. I personally think Hayley was better with jackson. He just a very honest, sweet, and raw character. He was always there for Hayley and he never gave up on her even though he knew she was in love with someone else. I also found it a little weird that she was in love with Elijah because... imagine your hope, your mom is In love with your dad's brother who's your uncle. Overall I didn't hate their relationship I just really didn't care for it.)

( another unpopular opinion, I honestly have mixed feelings about their relationship. I think their a little toxic. I know part of the reason that they weren't happy was because Rebekah was always making excuses. And she just never allowed herself to be happy. It was extremely clear that they never lost feelings for each other. And they wasted alot of time. There realtionship reminded me of a toxic highschool first love, that's the best way I could describe it. But later in the season when Rebekah had the darkness inside of her and Marcel didn't care and he proposed it was cute. I'm happy that Rebekah is happy because Rebekah deserves it more than anyone in the world.)

( y'all might get mad, but I wasn't a big fan of kol and Davina. Kol is literally a thousand years old and Davina was only 16 or 17 when they first started dating. And yes I know I was shipping huge age gaps but at the same time atleast Camille and keelin were adults not minors when they were dating a thousand year old vampires. I feel like their love story was a bit rushed. Yeah we saw them spend time together, but st the same time I feel they fell for each other because Davina had no life and she was locked up in that church for a long time and she was never able to talk to anyone or have a boyfriend. So she fell really easily. And kol fell in love probably because no one ever cared for him the way Davina did, no one fought for him or for his love the way she did.)

( i have to admit in tvd I was all for klaroline. But when I first watch the originals, I liked Camille and Klaus so much more. I feel like Camille really changed Klaus for the better. She helped navigate through his past traumas and gave him an understanding of why he is the way he is. I really though it was super sweet how klaus kept her as his safe haven going through something crazy. Camille really didn't deserve to be turned to a vampire and I wished she would've made it through so they could be endgame.)

#the originals #hayley and elijah #Camille and Klaus #kol and davina #Marcel and Rebekah #Freya and keelin

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flying-ryan · 1 year

Text

The suite was as lavish as one could expect based on the ornate golden double door entrance that came with a private butler. Luca would have been as happy to celebrate in a field of grass as much as a penthouse suite of another glassy Dubai highrise.

The most important thing was right beside him. Finally.

The time hadn't been lost on Ryan. But no string of words could express the feeling of being ripped in half. Or wounded again to think that he could ever be anything but untrue. It was all fair enough as most things were and ultimately, the rugged pilot was a man of action, not words.

"I'm tired of all of it." Ryan stripped his worn leather flight jacket, tossing it to the floor with more frustration than he intended. "You are the only fucking thing I have ever loved."

His reddened blue eyes locked into his heart's soft brown. God fucking damn it all he'd missed his fucking boy. It wasnt enough to kiss and make up. It wasn't enough to fill him and spill apologies. He'd marry the boy a billion times over but still, it wasnt enough.

They'd talked. Joked maybe. Fantasized. But he wasn't sure either of them would ever. It didn't matter now.

He closed the short distance between their bodies and felt his own visceral reaction to the proximity of his love. Lucas scent was intoxicating. His flawless skin was almost glowing up close and Ryan felt his mouth water with the building desire to press his lips to the softest brown skin.

But he wouldn't yet.

"Luca, listen to me." He couldn't help the way he allowed their hips to press together.

Luca's face cycled emotions. He was angry. He was frustrated. He was hurt. He was also very horny. His body, his perfect fucking body responded beneath the pilot's touch. It was a dance their souls had done since the beginning of time and one they'd do for ever more but one he'd never fucking get enough of.

"My pretty baby boy." A rough finger traced a smooth, trim jaw and Ryan sucked in a quick breath when Luca twisted just right to catch the older man's thumb in his soft, wet mouth. "Yer gonnae fuckin kill me, boy."

"You can't die yet." Luca's voice was shaking. His pupils were so dark. Ryan could feel the popstars slim fingers digging into what he could reach of the pilots painted skin and their clothes began to shed.

"I'm gonna give you what you need, my boy."

The pilot's gravel voice took on a steely tone as he pointed to four different cameras, small but plainly planted to capture every inch of the decadent four postered bed in the master suite.

"I'm gonna give you what you need and every fucking body is gonna see it."

Of course he'd never exploit the love of his life. But it was a fun threat and he had every intention of spending any future nights away from his only home being able to jerk it to his pretty princess in all of his favorite positions once again.

—

Gods bless ye was all he could think as Luca whined, literally whined, begging to service his swollen, leaking husband. It wasn't that he didn't want it. There werent fucking words for how badly he needed every inch of every one of his angel's holes. But first he had to make him scream.

He had his husband bent over one edge of the massive bed and didn't bother to stifle the primal groan that ripped from his chest at the sight of the sparkling pink jeweled plug already adorning the softest, smoothest, tightest ass of his dreams.

"I want everyone to see you like this, Luc." Scarred, inked fingertips traced the prickled skin he loved so much. The boy shuddered, barely stifling a desperate plea and arching into his husband's expert touch. "This is what we are. This is who we are."

He fell to his knees with more reverence than he'd ever felt inside a church and couldn't decide if he liked the taste of Lucas smooth taint and soft, tight balls or the unholy sounds Luca was making as Ryan took his time to lick and suck on Luca's sack, pointedly ignoring the perfect, swollen dick Luca did his best to rub into the bed beneath him for some sort of relief.

"S'not as simple as sex." He traced the boys puckered hole, rounding edge of the pretty pink jewel with his crooked nose, blatantly enjoying deep inhales of his boy's most private parts. Every fuckin inch of him was godsdamned delicious.

"This." His voice was gravel and a seriousness came over him as he allowed his fingertips to rest around the metal plug. He tapped it. Luca moaned and ground against the bed again and the pilot could feel another thick bead of precum wet the tip of his hooded cock. He tapped the plug a few more times, barely beginning to find something like a rhythm that had Luca moaning and groaning something that sounded like a blessed sort of song. "This is fucking holy, baby."

He twisted the heavy plug, only teasing the puckered hole that ached for him to pull it out and replace it with his own need. But not yet.

His hands released his husband suddenly. Luca's lewd dissatisfaction made the pilot chuckle as he replaced his hand with his hard, bare cock as he folded himself around the boy's back to breathe in the smell of his perfectly styled curls and feel like their pieces had finally lined up again.

No force in any universe could have kept him from abandoning his slow burn scheming and filling Luca with every inch and every drop of everything he had to give as urgently as he possibly could if he had just taken the plug from his husband's perfect ass. He silently marveled his own self restraint when Luca quivered underneath him, arching beneath him to press every inch of smooth brown skin again Ryan's solid, tattooed body.

"I promise you, boy." He bucked his hips, rocking into Luca who cursed and whimpered for more. "We are both going to get what we need tonight."

He let his mouth get to the outer edge of Luca's shoulder. Somehow even his sweat tasted sweet. Any closer and his little weasel would wiggle out from beneath him, desperate for a burning kiss that would, once again, derail the older man's careful plan.

He bit the boy's shoulder at the same time his hips involuntarily jerked against Luca's soft, warm body again. "Get on your fookin back, boy."

–

"No more please!"

Luca's hands clung to Ryan's, still wrapped around the popstar's half hard dick. Ryan had told Luca that he intended to milk him dry before his dick ever touched him but Luca had no idea he'd cum so hard he could taste it on his lips when he opened his mouth to gasp for air.

"Take this fucking plug out and fucking fuck me god damn-"

Luca's increasingly frustrated tirade was cut short by the older man's gravelly chuckle. "You're so fooking cute when you beg for it, baby boy."

He grabbed Luca's face, forcing their eyes as he settled himself between his lover's quivering, cum-slick thighs. "Tell me, angel." He ignored his own throbbing need to finally, slowly begin to work the thick plug from Luca's tight hole. "Tell me how much you need this big thick daddy dick inside that pretty popstar hole."

He had no idea how long the boy had been wearing it. It was the first one they'd ever bought together- too keep Luca plugged full of Ryan's cum- the way it fookin should be and would be again very soon.

His inner monologue went silent at the sights and sounds of Luca's perfect pink hole stretching around the shining plug as Ryan pulled. It made the pilots dick pulse and his mouth water. The world was obsessed with Luca but they'd never seen how beautiful he could be like this. Until now.

More than one of the cameras would be able to capture a close up of the near pop when Luca's sparkling plug finally released from the boy's slick hole. The thought made Ryan's already painfully hard erection throb more.

He knew he didn't stand an ince cubes chance in hell of lasting more than five minutes once he finally got to feel his souls mate's body stretching to accommodate him, letting them be one once again. His balls ached. Every pointless load he'd sprayed into a tissue or a drain in the nights he'd been gone were nothing compared to the load that built in him now.

They both needed it.

To save face for the camera Ryan used the last of his willpower to suck Luca off for the cameras one last time, shamelessly using any combination of their spit, cum or precum to lube the pilot's thick fingers as he worked in and out of Luca at a teasing pace.

"Ry."

It was that name. The voice that said it. The emotion behind it. It broke him out of his list addled haze and their eyes met. Luca didn't have to keep begging they both needed the same thing.

"I won't last." Ryan said by way of warning but wasted no time taking his dick in his hand, stroking the thick foreskin over the precum slick head a couple of times and then lining himself up with the only place he called home.

"Don't need you to last."

Luca wrapped around him like a monkey. Suddenly he was everywhere. The smell and the feel of him blocked out everything else. Luca shuddered around his husband and it wrenched an inhuman groan from the grizzled pilot.

Stars. Heaven. Blackness. Void. He couldn't describe what happened or where he went when he finally felt the inhuman relief of release, his aching sack pumping every thick fertile drop of his seed deep into Luca's guts. Luca's slick hole pulsed around him with every throbbing rope and then the slow dribbles that Ryan made sure to leave with the deepest inside the popstar's well-claimed guts.

The beaming pride of his husband or the way the pilots own white cum took no time to spill out around his still hard cock had him ready for round two immediately.

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