#and i would appreciate prayers that it would just be healed or that i would know what to do | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moon-rivr · 5 months

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cara mia

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: mostly told from miguel’s pov, mentions of religious guilt, somnophilia, soft sex, unprotected p in v, riding somewhat, pregnancy, and a wee bit of angst (muahahah)

author’s note: i did get inspiration from the addams family for this personality wise but i didn’t use the goth elements (sry)

word count: 4k+

Padre nuestro que estás en el cielo, santificado sea tu nombre

The prayer had imprinted itself in Miguel's head after countless hours of being on his knees, forcing himself to pretend that he felt the same type of enlightenment as the other people around him. He envied the people at his church, he wished that he could devote himself and his life to God the same way that they did, but he felt like he was speaking to a brick wall every time he prayed.

The gold cross around his neck felt more like a burden than a symbol of salvation, reminding him of what a failure he'd been to himself and his community. Countless hours of bible study that were supposed to provide him with some hope about humanity, provide him some clarity about his existence and role in the world, only gave him headaches and more questions.

The day that Gabriella was taken away from him, he selfishly prayed in his head that everything would be okay. He knew that it was wrong to pray only when he needed something, but he needed for something to be out of his control for once. "Por favor no te me lleves a mi hija, Diosito. Ella tiene toda su vida por delante. Te lo suplico," he spoke in his mind, hoping that God would listen to him. that he wouldn't lose the only ray of light in his life. (please don’t take my daughter away from me, God. she has her entire life ahead of her. i plead you)

"Please daddy!" Gabriella’s voice clouded his mind as she faded away into nothing, the buildings around them collapsing into pure ash. He cursed God for not listening to him as he fell to the ground on his knees, his head dropped. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked at his hands, having just the remainder of what was. Peter had rushed to his side, attempting to get him to stand up before the universe faded into nothing but everything inside Miguel hurt. He felt like his limbs were 50 pound weights as he stepped into the portal to go back home, the reminders of his selfishness lingering.

Devotion had never come easy to Miguel, whether it be to an entity or to a thing, but you were the only exception to that rule. He wasn't sure if you'd done it out of sympathy after seeing his weakened state or if you were just simply doing your job as a barista, but you had given him a free bagel with his coffee one day. "I know this probably won't help much, but you look like you need it," you told him once you handed him the small bag and coffee cup.

Miguel didn't answer you, his mouth felt like sandpaper every minute of the day, but he appreciated the small act of kindness you'd shown him. You didn't even have to ask him for his order, making him the cup out of memory. He felt people's stares on him as he walked to one of the tables, their noses scrunching up from his body odor. He hadn't had the energy to come out of his room, but he decided to take the healing journey step by step.

He wasn't sure of when was the last time he took a shower was but he was certain that it must've been a while with the way that everybody scooted their chairs to be further away from him. He brought the cup of coffee to his mouth, taking a sip from it as he tried to will himself to swallow it. The coffee beans tasted like wet mud as they went down his throat, the walls of his throat constricting. He eventually gave up on trying to drink the coffee, placing his head down on the table as he shut his eyes.

The melody in the coffee shop lulled him to sleep after countless hours of staying up, the memories of Gabriella ringing through his head every time he closed his eyes. He wasn't sure of how long he had fallen asleep for, only getting waken up by your soft tapping on his shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt your nap, but we're about to close the shop. You're free to come back tomorrow if you want," you spoke and his head shot up, looking out the window to see that the moon was already peeking out from the clouds.

Miguel stayed quiet, unsure of what to say as he fished something out of his pocket as a way to make it up to you. "No, no. Don't worry about it," you tried to dismiss the bill he was handing you, but he was even more stubborn than you were. You ended up accepting the bill a couple seconds later and he left the coffee shop, feeling like a ship lost at bay. He didn't have anywhere else to call home after he lost Gabriella and his apartment felt too empty. Too quiet. He decided to head back to the HQ, burying his face in work until his exhaustion took place of the pain.

A couple days had passed by when he heard a knock on his office door, Jessica appearing in the doorway. "Miguel, we're worried about you. You haven't exited your office in days and you.. stink. Just take a shower, please," she told him, approaching him the way that one would to a child. The thought of showering just made Miguel want to curl up and burst out crying since the last time he showered was a few moments prior to Gabriella’s last embrace. If he tried hard enough, he could still smell her bubble soap on his clothes.

It took Miguel a while to get into the shower and even longer to scrub his body, his skin raw from how hard he'd tried to make the memories fade away. He sat on the shower floor for a couple minutes with his hands buried in his hands, willing himself not to let his tears combine with the running water. He got up on shaky legs, gripping the shower wall as he let the water run through his reddened skin. His talons unsheathed and he looked down at them, wanting to claw at himself until nothing was left.

Jessica had convinced Miguel to go back to the coffee shop after she saw him fawning over your public file, convincing him to try to have a conversation with you. He showed up to the coffee shop the next day, a complete stranger from the man that showed up just a week beforehand. He'd taken a shower and he fixed his unruly curls a bit, wearing a button down shirt and jeans. As always, you made his order without him needing to say much but he found himself wanting to talk to you this time around.

"Hi, I'm sorry if this is coming off as weird seeing how you found me sleeping on one of the tables earlier and you saw me in that state, but I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime? I’d like to get to know you better if you gave me the opportunity," he said as he came up to the counter once your shift ended, expecting to be found with rejection. "That sounds good. I'll give you my number and you can text me when it works for you," you responded, scribbling down your number on a napkin.

The encounter between the two of you led to more dates and eventually to the two of you getting married a year later. He found himself completely captured by the way you carried yourself around, willing to give you the world if you asked. He'd be willing to lower down the moon at your request, if only to see the smile on your face. But what he loved the most was the fact that you didn't ask him for the moon, you simply asked for his love in exchange for yours. Loving you felt so simple to him, something as easy as taking a breath.

Miguel glanced over at the clock on the bedside table, letting out a small groan as he looked down at the tent in his sleep pants. He knew he couldn't control himself around you, just having you around made his cock twitch, but he'd never will himself to be too far from you. He glanced back at your sleeping form, seeing the way that your sleep gown bunched up around your thighs. He saw your glistening cunt through the small crack of sunlight peeking through the window, his willpower breaking down.

He spread your legs gently, pushing your nightgown up to your stomach as he pushed his cock in. Your tight walls engulfed him instantly and he had to resist letting out a moan so as to not wake you. Your pussy was practically gushing around his cock as he bottomed out, sucking him deeper. He slowly retracted his cock before pushing it back inside, watching as you stirred in your sleep. His hand came up to your breast, cupping it through the lace material of your gown. He leaned in, sucking your nipple through the material as his tongue rolled over the nub.

His hips rolled slowly as he gripped your thighs for some kind of balance, making sure that you weren't stirring too much in your sleep. While he had a desire to satiate, he'd never be that selfish to wake you up in order to fulfill his needs. "You're all wet for me even in your dreams, corazón," he murmured, his talons drawing small lazy circles on your thighs. He brought his hands up to your front, punching and pulling at your nipples while his cock pushed in and out of you.

"Morning Miguel, did you sleep good?" You asked him, tilting your head to the side to look at him with a small smile on your face. "Cada dia que me despierto siendo tu marido es bueno para mi, cara mia. I'm sorry for waking you up," he responded, his cheeks burning a bit at the prospect of bothering you. God, he'd never be able to get enough of you at this point. Even with the darkened curtains, a slimmer of light managed to peel through as it illuminated your face in an almost angelic halo. (every day that i wake up as your husband is good for me, my darling)

"What's got you all needy, Miguelito?" You inquired, rolling over on top of him as your night gown flowed over your legs. "You, it's always you," he whispered, his hands coming up to your breasts as you slowly sunk onto his cock. You let out a small groan as you felt your wetness dripping onto your thighs and his, the access proving to be much easier. You slowly moved up and down his cock, your tight walls engulfing around him without any remorse. He thought he could die happy like this, engulfed by you and the love combined between you two.

His hips moved upwards, assisting you with the rhythm as he sat up straight, his mouth attaching itself to your neck. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he slowly began to place small bites on your collarbone and shoulders, marking you as his. With every mark that he left on your skin, it felt like he was tattooing yourself into your life. Making himself known even if he wasn't present. The pace between the two of you wasn't rushed or rough, it was simply just enjoying the company of each other and being in each other's arms.

"I've been thinking about getting you pregnant, cara mia. Think about how lovely our kids would be, just a reflection of the devotion I feel for you," he murmured into your skin, his fangs gently grazing against your neck. "Get me pregnant, Miguel. I want everybody to look at us and just see how in love we are," you responded, your walls clenching around his cock just as a security measure. His thrusts got sloppier as he approached his orgasm, his fingers coming down to your clit to help you through yours. His mouth was swirling around your nipples, licking and sucking at the hardened breast while his other hand played with your other one.

Your orgasm approached you rather quickly, your back arching as your breath hitched from the intensity. Your deep breaths filled the room as Miguel's hips moved into you, fucking you through your orgasm and his. He came a couple seconds after you, the tip of his cock pushing the cum into your cervix just to make sure it would take. You rolled over to your side, your arms still wrapped around Miguel's neck as the two of you started to come down from that euphoria. His fingers stroked small circles on your back as his mouth came down to press a kiss on your forehead.

You ended up taking a shower after that, though the two of you didn't like to have sex in there since it could get slippery quick. That didn't stop Miguel from lathering soap all over your body, his hands massaging your breasts, thighs, and the globes of your ass. He gestured for you to jump and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pinned you to the wall, his lips attacking everywhere he hadn't gotten the chance to earlier.

"I just wanna appreciate you like the work of art you are but you make it so hard when you look at me like that," he told you, leaving a bite on top of your breasts as his eyes locked on you. "Like what?" You looked over at him with doe eyes, your lashes fluttering with the water hitting them. He let out a small chuckle, turning off the water faucet before he carried you out the shower. "Miguel, you're making a mess!" You exclaimed in between little giggles as you held onto him. "Apologies," he offered, wrapping you up in a towel like a burrito without paying much regard to his own dripping stature.

As the two of you got out of your shared shower, LYLA appeared in front of Miguel making him let out a small grumble. "Good morning! You need to be in HQ at approximately ten in order to get all your paperwork done," she announced, her voice chirpy as she spoke. "Tell them I'm dead," he muttered, waving LYLA away as he pressed kisses on your shoulder. "While I would love to do that, you used that excuse about two weeks ago," LYLA responded, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Miguel.

Miguel let out a small scoff as he buried his face into your neck, his large hands splayed on your stomach. "Then tell them I'm spending time with my wife today. You're in charge," he told her, shooing her off for the last time before he gave you the opportunity to finish up getting moisturized. "I wouldn't recommend getting dressed, cariño. You won't be needing clothes today," he told you as you stepped back into the bedroom, beckoning you back into the bed.

The day was spent having lazy sex on almost every corner of the house, determination evident in his features to have his sperm take. He had his way with you on the bed, in front of the mirror that was in the bathroom, the kitchen counter while you two were waiting for lunch, and the couch when you put on a show for some background noise.

"Every time I think I can't love you more, you just prove me wrong," he whispered into your ear as he stroked your back lazily, his softening cock warming up your cunt. The love he felt towards you seemed to practically seep out his pores with the way that he treated you. "Becoming your wife has been one of the greatest experiences ever. Thank you for allowing me to love you, Miguel," you murmured, your hand lazily running through his curls.

A couple of weeks passed by when you came to the realization that you'd missed your period for the last month and the food that normally had you salivating was making you gag at just the mere sight of it. You hadn't been expecting for the sperm to take so easily after your previous doctors had described a problem with your uterus, but you couldn't help but feel excited at the prospect of having a child with Miguel. You stopped by the drugstore near your house, getting a few pregnancy tests just in case.

You practically gulped the bottle of water you'd taken with you to the bathroom, waiting until you felt that urge. It took a couple minutes before you were ready to pee on the tests, and it would take even longer for the results to come out. You washed your hands and looked up at the mirror, picturing yourself swollen with the product of you and Miguel's adoration inside. The timer on your phone made you jump after being in your head for ten minutes, turning it off before you looked at the results. Pregnant.

You decided to go surprise Miguel at HQ since you felt like you were practically bursting out with excitement and you didn't trust yourself to keep it a secret for too long. It took you a while to arrive since it's in the middle of Nueva York and it was lunch hour, but even the stench of the subway couldn't deter your happiness. You were instantly greeted with smiles as you walked into the HQ, most of the members being people you recognized. You took the opportunity to go pet the cat and greet Lego Spider-Man before heading up to Miguel's office.

"¡Hijos de su puta madre! How many shocking times do I have to say that you don't free the anomalies to even out your little basketball team?!" Miguel's voice boomed from his office, clear to your ears outside. You knocked on the door before stepping in, seeing Miguel's demeanor completely change as he looked at you. "Just go, we'll finish this later," he told the group of teenagers and they all scattered away quickly.

You walked up to Miguel, wrapping your arms around his neck as you let out a small chuckle. "You shouldn't be so hard on them, you know? It's not good for your stress levels either," you whispered, kissing his cheek. “I know, mi vida. But they just make it so hard not to get pissed off," he mumbled, resting his head on the crook of your neck. "Well you're gonna have to control that because soon enough, you'll have a little one that needs their daddy for a long time," you responded, dropping the subtle hint and his head shot up immediately.

"You're not messing around with me or anything right?" He asked, his hands around your waist as he looked down at you. You took the ziploc baggie holding the pregnancy test inside, handing it over to him. "Ay mi amor. You don't know how happy it makes me to be able to have a kid with you," he spoke, littering small kisses on your face as he held you close to him. He took a couple minutes to allow for you to enjoy the news before he started going into an overprotective mode, finding the best ob-gyn nearby.

Though Miguel had multiple responsibilities towards the multiverse and to maintaining the safety of the city, he still accompanied you to the first appointment. "You know we'll have plenty of these, so you don't need to come," you told him, but he shook his head as he opened the door for you at the clinic. "I refuse to miss out on anything important, mi amor. The multiverse will hopefully still be intact while I get back," he responded, guiding you towards one of the chairs.

Your eyes drifted to the women sitting in the lobby, some of them distraught with the news of what's growing inside of them while others were crying out of joy. What you couldn't help but notice though, was that most of them were alone as they waited. You'd never felt so appreciative towards Miguel than in this moment and you couldn't help the tears that began coating your eyes.

"What's wrong?" Miguel asked, immediately concerned as he looked at you. "I just feel so lucky being here with you, I'm sorry. It's funny, I got scared when this whole thing happened, since y'know, we have no idea how to be parents but just having you by my side is gonna make this okay," you rambled, wiping away at the tears rolling down your cheeks.

He kissed your forehead as he held your hand, waiting for your name to be called. "Do you want me to come in?" He asked before you nodded, walking with him to the room. He held your hand throughout the whole process while the doctor basically went through some of the dangers you'd possibly be going through with this pregnancy. The baby seemed to be growing fine, though, the size of a raspberry at this stage.

You had quit your job at the coffee shop a little while after getting married to Miguel, so having time to rest wasn't too big of an issue for you. You'd busied yourself with attempting to knit clothes for the baby, your fingers covered with small indents from the needle. "You don't have to do that, you know we have more than enough money to buy baby clothes," he assured you when he saw you crying after a onesie ended up with only one foot sleeve. You eventually got better at it as the time went by, the onesies even having small designs on them.

Though the next nine months hadn't been a walk in the park, they were all the more tolerable having Miguel by your side. He didn't care if you had to wake up at 4 in the morning to satiate your cravings for pickles, even joining you sometimes. He didn't mind carrying you around the house when your ankles felt too swollen to even stand on. He just loved seeing you practically glowing with his love, the pregnancy making you look all the more gorgeous no matter what you said.

The birth was supposed to be an easy process but Miguel could feel that something was wrong as he waited in the lobby with the other expecting fathers. The nurses came over to him, giving him the grim news that you were hemorrhaging but assuring him that they were doing everything in their power. Their words eventually became garbled as a white noise ran through his mind, a pain that he could feel in his soul at the thought of being without you coating his body completely.

Miguel dropped to his knees at the small chapel in the hospital that night, all the different prayers melting into one as he tried to get the words out. His knees were scraped raw as they rubbed against the cold concrete, a well fitting punishment in his opinion for his time apart from the church. He clamped the cross around his neck, holding it as a safe haven before he pressed his hands together, starting with a prayer the best way he knew how.

He started off by thanking God for everything he'd given him, even if he felt like nothing was worth thanking for at the moment. He pushed the feelings of betrayal deep down, knowing that they were completely unprecedented as a non-practicing Catholic. Later, he prayed for you. Not for himself, no. But for you, to get better so you could continue to bless his life with your presence and bless the life of your child together. He continued with this viscous cycle of praying until the sun came up, talking to the plastic cross in a hospital chapel.

The baby was discharged a few days later and while Miguel had everything to take care of it, he felt unprepared. As Miguel held the sleeping baby in his arms, he felt like a part of him was ripped out at your absence. The baby proved as a symbol of his love and devotion for you, though. He tried to be strong for the baby, he really did, but his emotions were starting to bubble up in the bottle he'd stuffed them in. He set the baby down in its crib, looking over at your collection of dresses in the closet as he brought them to his nose, your perfume hitting him instantly. He knew that you were in the hospital recovering, but his heart ached to feel your warmth, laughter, and love again.

The corners of his eyes prickled with salty, warm tears as he cut away the petals from the roses you'd ordered just a week ago. His nose was running from his allergies, but he refused to ask for help with such a mundane task. He refused to let your presence from the home fade out, taking care of everything you would've done along with his own responsibilities. He sat down on the edge of the bed, starting to comply with what he'd told God while he was in the hospital. That he'd start praying again as long as you were okay. He’d be willing to put himself through the process of talking to what he deemed as a wall just for you.

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hazelfoureyes · 12 days

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⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 (keep reading)

Alastor lets you leave the hotel! Together! For soup. Later, your plans to make Alastor lose his obsession backfire. But like, in a hot way so you’re not that mad about it. A+ for effort?

˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

「warnings/promises: smut, I once again misuse a fucking prayer in a sacrilegious way, soup, spoon feeding, Angel texts, so much cum, bondage, tentacles, just good ole fashion fucking in the radio station, not quite dubcon but Alastor doesn’t really listen, hell has twitter and lets be real it’s just normal twitter, giant Alastor, Horse Luci」

Minors DNI ♥️ 🧹lovingly

You finally managed to leave the hotel. It was of course with Alastor at your side, microphone pressing into the small of your back like a third arm. It was as if he worried you’d just turn around and run.

He opened every door, pulled out your chair, and when your left hand shook and dropped your food he took on the task of feeding you. It was embarrassing, to say the very least. The sinners in the restaurant staring, a brave few filming or typing furiously on their phones.

You got a buzz on your own cell, a gift from Angel when he realized Alastor wouldn’t let you speak with others alone.

He texted a link to a post on some hell site, to a photo of you right then, at that exact moment, being spoon fed by the radio demon. You considered smashing your head into the table until you blacked out. If you got up and left would you make it back to the hotel before someone realized you weren’t a sinner? You were absolutely terrified of someone noticing you as heaven sent.

Heaven kicked? Heaven thrown. Yeah that one felt right.

“You need to eat. You can’t heal like this.” Alastor sounded concerned, but you fought the urge to care.

He hadn’t apologized to Husk, but Husk did say Alastor seemed to avoid eye contact which was basically a gift to him. Alastor had come to your room to dress you the next day as he always did, neither of you mentioning the day before. The hall was magically pristine by the time you left.

A tiny sliver of you thought he felt embarrassed. But decades of experience told you that Mania didn’t afford embarrassment, the stricken couldn’t be truly manic if something like that was holding them back.

Maybe it had been such a shallow cut he hadn’t gotten the full punch of Mania?

Another attempt to feed yourself, slowly bringing your spoon to your mouth, “You know when I heal I am going to finish my task and leave, right?”

An odd laugh, a non-existent tear wiped away, “Adorable. No. I promise you, that won’t happen.”

“Alastor.” You put the spoon down with a clink.

“I love when you say my name. May I offer you more reasons to hold it in your mouth?”

“Al-,” you groaned, “I can’t stay forever.”

He hummed, a show of pretending to think about what you said, “Wrong! You can. And I argue, you will.”

You tried again with the spoon, regretting soup. Your appetite had been shot for awhile and it seemed easy enough. Wrong. Again. There was a constant tremble to your hands since arriving. Perhaps experiencing pain for the first time was rattling your body so much that it couldn’t cope. “Why would I ever do that? This is literal hell.”

Alastor leaned over, taking the spoon from you with ease and bringing it to your mouth, “Because I’ll make you understand it’s where you belong. They didn’t appreciate you,” his grin widened, “Not like I do. Like I can, if you’d let me.”

Annoyed and flustered, you took the help to eat. “Thank you.” A spoonful, “How can you say that though? I’m the one and only Cupid.”

“Actually, no. You’re not. You are just the current incarnation. They’ll replace you.”

You regretted telling him that. They could. Just replace you, that is. There was nothing stopping them. You stared into your soup, lips curling down.

“Don’t look so defeated. I’ll make you happy, for eternity.”

Your eyes rolled. “When do you plan on starting that eternal happiness?”

You didn’t look at him when you said it, but you could see his hand slow, then become completely still. Had you wounded him?

He pivoted, “Doesn’t Cupid have wings?”

Another spoonful, “Of course.”

Alastor waited while you took a drink, determined to make you eat the entire bowl, “Where are they?”

A pause. Where were they? You hadn’t realized you couldn’t feel them. They weren’t everpresent, but their weight still sat between your shoulder blades at all times. Always. Normally. But now?

“You don’t know? That’s troubling.” Alastor read your face with ease.

You shot him a look. Stop doing that. Stop replying to unspoken thoughts.

“Apologies.”

Another text before you could snap at him.

You slid the phone away from Alastor, face red. “Do you think, honestly, if you’re capable of it, that I’ll ever be able to go home?”

His hand came to your neck, running over your collarbone, “For the record, I’ve never once lied to you.” You rolled your eyes, fine, okay, “With your heavenly body, even as weakened as you have been here, I’d say just a few more weeks.”

You turned the phone face down.

“Good…that’s good. If you plan on winning me over, your countdown has started.” You pushed the soup away, appetite gone. The idea of never returning to heaven made you nauseous. He slid it back to you, face stern despite the smile he wore.

The walk home was quiet, your stomach full of unwanted soup.

No, not home. The hotel.

He usually spoke a lot, clearly loving the sound of his own voice. His hand replaced the staff, settled on your back as he guided you. You could feel the warmth through your clothes. How could he be so hot and not be sweating? Another sinner thing?

The thought hadn’t left you by the time you came into view of the hotel gates. Maybe you had been replaced. How would you know? Maybe that was why your wings were gone. Surely there was some way to communicate from hell.

You found Lucifer as soon as you returned, unbothered by Alastor’s presence, “I need to speak to heaven.”

Alastor was saying something but you had gotten quite good at tuning him out. Lucifer snapped back, the men quickly devolving into arguing again.

“Lucifer.” You said it with your chest.

His apple topped cane whirled, a golden circle appearing with a crystal clear image of heaven’s glowing gates through its center.

A loud noise erupted behind you, a high pitched static wail, familiar tentacles flailed and a long shadow of a growing Alastor stretched across the wall. His back was bent into the lobby ceiling, perhaps three stories tall now.

The sounds of magic popping as Lucifer shapeshifted accented the sounds of horror with that of whimsy. You approached the portal, those black tendrils slithering around your ankles but you easily slipped out of them as their owner's energy was pulled to full demon Lucifer slamming into him.

Almost, you could see it.

A monstrously large hand came down, shaking the hotel and knocking various objects off their perches in the lobby. Charlie and Vaggie, someone else you’d come to enjoy the company of, flew down the stairs.

The common area was filled with the sounds of yelling and breaking glass. You crawled over his hand as Alastor’s fingers curled around your body gingerly. He tried to pull you from the gateway but while he slowed, Lucifer now a flying horse kicking him in the face, your outstretched hand strained to enter the portal.

Your fingers grazed the doorway, the air around the lobby fizzing and warping as a desperate screech tore from Alastor’s wide and impossibly thin chest. The grip tightened around you. A static whine threatened to pop your eardrums.

As your fingertips pressed past the ring, they stopped. Something impenetrable and unseen between you and heaven.

Alastor must have noticed it too, his grip loosening as you clamored on hand and knees to the portal. Your palm ran over the doorway, searching for a hole or seam to rip. Just under your skin was your home, bright and clean and painless. A tiny ‘no’ fell from your lips, smacking at the barrier with your open hand.

Alastor returned to his normal, still terrifying, height. Lucifer came forward, their fight losing motivation, his small hand on your shoulder as you sat on the hotel lobby floor. He closed the portal and apologized, “Sorry kid. Let’s try again when you finish that task, okay?”

Alastor’s arms went under your back and knees and lifted you off the ground. You didn’t resist or argue. Your eyes were unfocused, vision blurry with tears, as you were carried past the others. Vaggie looked ashamed, which was odd given she had more character than half the archangels could muster together between them.

There existed permissions for who could enter the heavenly realm, a list meticulously kept. They’d removed you from that roster. They’d locked the doors behind you.

You felt good. The final week of your first, and hopefully last, month in hell was marked with taking off your sling for the first time.

A good three day wallow in a metaphorical cave helped you emerge with renewed vigor. Of course they locked the gates behind you, otherwise you’d just go home. That made sense. That made sense.

That had to make sense.

Deciding to take a risk and attempt to expedite your homecoming, you and Angel made plans. Like a teenager in a party movie you snuck out of the hotel when Alastor was asleep. Well, so you assumed. You weren’t really sure what he did behind closed doors.

Angel brought you somewhere he felt people would be receptive to discussing love and talking to angelic beings, and admittedly also very high.

Sling off but still being as gentle as you could, you leaned across the small standing-only table to talk-shout with a rather cute aquatic demon. An eel? Or maybe some kind of water-fond lizard? It didn’t matter, his glasses were cute, both of you a little drunk, and you quite good at saying the right things.

And all of the right things were said, and you felt maybe if nothing else you’d enjoy your first demonic lay, when the power shut off.

Everyone filed out, bummed and bothered to find most of the neighborhood shrouded in darkness.

Angel tapped your shoulder and pointed up the hill to the hotel, radio station a glow with a red light, “Ya know, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Nothing to do but to stare, you stayed quiet and angry while he flagged down a taxi knowing the trip would be fast without traffic lights, “Guess Daddy Dead Eyes is calling you back.”

Anger grew and grew in your chest as you were charioted home.

Jesus, to the hotel. Stop doing that.

You burst into the radio station tower, Alastor barely reacting. Until, that is, you marched up to his desk.

Pinned before you could react, his body pressing into yours as your ass ran up onto the desk.

“Sneaking out like a child?” His voice was low, soft, unnatural. “Why do you intentionally torment me?”

“I have done,” you tried to move but only succeeded in rubbing your stomach against his crotch, “no such thing. You’re just possessed.”

He responded by pressing forward, no accident, as his eyes narrowed on you, “Correct. I am a man possessed.” When he rolled himself into you, an alcohol primed groan escaped your mouth.

“I thought you didn’t care about those things,” your eyes flashed to his lap pushing into you and then back to his glare.

“You’re my exception that proves the rule. If you’re so desperate for attention there’s no need to leave the hotel to find it.” His smile was poisoned by the simmering anger in his eyes, “Dear.”

It was the alcohol and annoyance at losing a chance with glasses-man, Jake or Jark or something not worth a scrabble move, that made you sneer a reply, “Not yours. I am a divine creature, demon. Your body would just filthy me.” Nose up, feeling absolutely better than him in every sense, you pushed him off and left.

That was easy. Wow.

Proud of yourself, you made it to the elevator before you realized— illusions. Perhaps his illusion was the idea sex with you was worth the effort, more so than others. He said it himself before, he didn’t care for such things. Perhaps if you could show him it was as boring and unattractive as sex with anyone else could be, maybe you could shatter his mania with disappointment.

You pulled a u-turn and heel-toed right back into his station. Giving him no time to react this time, you climbed onto his chair and straddled him, “On second thought, try your worst. Let’s get it out of your system and move on.” You ground your hips down. He only smiled up at you, amused. Taking his hands you set them on your waist, giving him permission to handle you, “Claim me. Make everyone know I’m yours.” He didn’t move. You were starting to feel embarrassed, had he goaded you just to make you look stupid? He would. But your kind invented the tension before sex between enemies, “If you can.”

That did it. His hair visibly stood on end, “It is not a matter of ability. It’s about-”

“If you can’t, that’s fine. No need to start lying to me now. But don’t say I never gave you the opportunity.” You smirked, hoping he enjoyed a taste of his own sardonic medicine, and lifted yourself off of him.

His hands came to life on your hips, helping you rise and then flipping you onto your stomach. Your arms pushed radio transmitters and various old timey fuckery away to make room for yourself.

Those talons slipped up the center of your bottoms and crooked into your underwear. Long and strong, his fingers felt you. “Is this a perk of a heavenly body or is this,” two fingers dipped into your already wet and relaxed entrance, “all for me?”

You fought the urge to respond with anything other than malice, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

In heaven no one needs preparation, no one needs lube or required stretching to keep things whole and fun. You would love to say that quality followed you down, but unfortunately, like perfect health and angelic wings, it had not.

You decided to chalk it up to the alcohol. Always an easy excuse to offer yourself.

Alastor’s hands pulled away and up, finding the place just above the Rosie’s Emporium clothing tag and ripping the bottoms and underwear clean in half.

You bit into your hand to keep your excited shriek to yourself but unfortunately couldn’t stop your legs kicking up. His laugh echoed off the many windows.

Why couldn’t he be worse at this? Why couldn’t Alastor be clumsy and meek and awkward at sex? No, the menace you’d gotten almost used to was confident and commanding, you felt yourself twitching in anticipation. People have a misconception that Cupid was a chaste and wholly emotional creature, which was false. First of all, Cupids varied based on the incarnation. Just like other heavenly creatures their personality was varied and unpredictable.

Personally, you weren’t suited for the job. If you were honest. Why couldn’t your quiver just be full of Eros and Agape? Even of those two, sexual love was more your speed. Romance was fine and lovely but perhaps you’d gotten a little jaded.

Luckily for you, fucking Cupid was something many winners had on their afterlife bucket lists and you rarely found yourself with an empty bed.

Your attention was stolen back, Alastor’s clawed hand grabbing at the flesh of your thighs, “Oops.”

Focus. Why were you doing this again? Your system was metabolizing the alcohol now, and with the air cooling off your exposed sex, everything was awash with lust. Did you want to diminish his mania or were you just horny?

Would it really be so bad to admit you were both?

Deep breath, you remembered. Boring. Banal. The plan was to be motionless and not provide him any satisfying sounds. Don’t touch him, don’t try to push back on him, no tricks or fancy shit. The sooner he was over this you could make someone trust in love and fuck off home.

Seconds turned to a minute, your ass in the air as Alastor’s hands pawed at your skin. You wanted to ask what the hold up was, but you didn’t want to give away how much you were needing him to just fuck you already.

“Do you miss flying?”

You looked around, were you so drunk you missed an entire chunk of conversation while thinking about how to hide thirsting for his dick?

“Yes…?” True statement.

“Allow me to help with that.”

There was a moment you half expected to be chucked out the window, but almost worse than that, you heard him seat himself in the chair again before your body was picked up and off the desk. “Alastor! I don’t-,” Hands flailing, feet moving around the best they could, you struggled against the familiar tentacles he had command over. “I do not allow it!”

Your hands batted at them fruitlessly. One came under your knees and folded them to either side of your chest before wrapping around your waist twice, a second across your chest like a seatbelt snug and secure. Had you been on the floor you could almost be mistaken for taking a deeply devout praying stance. Only your arms were free to move, the position making you open and incapable of taking back any semblance of control.

“Alastor!” Stretching, you could almost reach the edge of his work table, but your fingers and toes curled in as you were seated on something hot and stiff. Your lips quivered, desperate to keep silent as you were pulled down onto him. Reaching back your hands found his stomach, raking your nails across the skin in need of anything to grip.

When you heard him chuckle to himself, you knew you were already losing. Plan backfiring entirely. You pulled your hands back to your center, taking ahold of the tentacle nestled between and across your chest.

“Heavenly Father,” his voice was quiet but sure, your eyes so wide you worried you’d get stuck making a permanent face of utter shock and despair, “bless us and these thy gifts which we receive from thy bountiful goodness, through your name, our lord.” You were lifted off his lap, Alastor’s swollen tip dragging along your unstretched walls as he said the Lord's prayer, “Amen.” Pulled back down before the second syllable even reached your ears, you cut into your bottom lip as a scream bounced around behind your teeth.

Heathen.

“I would think you of all people knew how to finish a prayer.” Alastor chided, “What will heaven say?”

If heaven knew you were being impaled midair on an overlord’s cock, they’d create a second hell for you to rule. Population of none. Except maybe some horny nuns.

As he found a pace he seemed happy with, slow and long draws out of you, you realized how fucked you were. Looking down, you could see one of his hands was settled at the base of his cock, those long fingers draped down his balls. The other hand was unseen and unfelt.

“Alastor.” You tried to sound stern.

“Oh I doubt heaven knows my name. Not yet at least.” He sounded unbothered, almost unaffected. “Not until I’ve spirited away their little angel of love.”

You were almost insulted at how easily he could speak despite being buried so far into your wet, hot cunt. Maybe you had been spoiled in heaven, people usually so turned on by the idea of you that they were coming undone as soon as you were wrapped around them or in them in whatever way you decided.

A broken chant of “be bored, be bored,” in your mind as Alastor hummed, that mystery clawed hand falling at your back. Biting your lip, you tried to think about anything other than how full he was making you. Did the glasses man at the club have a cock as thick as Alastor’s? Would you have been as satisfied as you were now? Every down thrust made the tuft of fur at this base press against your ass. Soft. You wanted to grind against it, the idea pulling a wanton moan out.

Fuck. Failing to distract yourself because you got distracted. It was so hard to think about anything else than your body being pushed open again and again. The blood on your lips was sweet, licking them clean before finding a new spot to bite down on. Quiet.

“Ah, are you giving me the silent treatment?”

Could this son of a bitch read minds? Could sinners read minds?!

If you didn’t reply, that was confirmation. But if you did reply, you were breaking your goal of not talking.

“Just…,” you took a deep sigh, knowing this was going to be rough, “I’m not really feeling like making any noise.” A shrug, the best you could manage at least while bound and held aloft in the space above his lap. Pretending this was normal and boring was a feat. “I’m not a vocal person during sex. I prefer to just lie there and get serviced. Don’t mind me.”

That sounded awful. Perfect.

“Oh? Well then, I guess I’ll not worry myself.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Less perfect. He began to hum a little tune as your body, partially upright, was now being tilted forward at a 45 degree angle from his lap. His cock was bending in you, head pressing harshly up into your walls.

Heart beating so fast you felt a dizzy spell hit you, that renewed anticipation almost as arousing as the sensations.

His humming continued like he was reading the paper. You’d never ridden a roller coaster, but you’d seen many people do it before and this was surely the same feeling; right at the peak before the drop. When the ride operator stills you and lets you stare down at the height before you. Your stomach was flipping, excitement tinged with fear.

You were pulled off his dick until you felt the bell of his red tip get just outside your entrance. Was he going to pull out entirely?

No. He pulled you down by way of shadows and fucked you just a couple inches into your cunt. His head was dragging out past your tight hole and smashing back in, directly hitting your g-spot. The spongy bundle of nerve endings was dented with every thrust.

You weren’t used to having your entrance stimulated so much, the skin luckily becoming slick as your own wetness was fucked out of you.

“That feels weird, please.” How quickly you gave up. “Stop pulling out like that.”

A considerate sigh, “But you’ve gotten so wet, my dear. You’re dripping down my thighs already. I don’t think you want me to stop.”

Could you cum like this? You felt like you could, maybe if you just…you quickened your breath, faster and faster. Your stomach heaving, you felt the crescendo of pleasure.

“On second thought!” He stopped.

Your toes wiggled, hands gripping the tentacle on your chest. Quiet. Shh. Don’t argue. Boring. Don’t care. The building orgasm waned, you felt your blood pressure lower. This really was hell.

Alastor’s head was just sitting in you, burning hot and throbbing. You were sure you could feel his heartbeat.

You two were locked in a standoff. Someone had to let on they were enjoying themselves; Alastor releasing pent up frustration with your attitude toward his affections, you chasing down a rare penetration-only orgasm.

An idea struck you, a way to hopefully antagonize him and bruise his pride enough to force him into your hand (pussy), “Thank God. I think it’s almost my bedtime.”

Alastor’s smile strained, a twitch coming over his left eye. A trap. But the idea of letting you down and off of him seemed far worse than the small defeat you were offering. “Allow me to rock you to sleep then, sweetheart.”

Success! Shit!

You reached out, the angle of your punishment allowing you to grab the edge of the table and grip. Alastor’s annoyance translated to an inhuman pace, him pulling you off entirely from his cock before bringing you back down. He was positively slipping in and out of you, your lower lips puffy and soaked around him. This degree of wetness was something you couldn’t remember feeling outside of marathon sessions.

When your hands tightened, a shock of pain tore down your arm, a scream bringing Alastor to a sudden stop. “My collar…” Pain was apparently not a kink you enjoyed, though you briefly wondered if heaven allowed it at all.

You couldn’t even fuck properly. You couldn’t do anything right. All you managed to do was fail. A sting to your eyes as the air hit your welling tears. Did humans feel this pain often? Your body was righted and turned, you looked down to Alastor’s face as you were brought to him. He looked so soft, usual smirk a sweet toothless smile, “I told you to keep the sling on, didn’t I?” He looked happy.

Your arms found his shoulders and your head came to his chest, “Shut up and finish already.” He didn’t release you from the binding, instead pulling the right arm under the hold of his slender tendril to keep it safe and out of the way. His hands were both at the base of his cock while you were gently riding him. Well, “you”. He was still using his powers to manipulate your body on and off of him. Alastor’s fingers were spreading your arousal down his shaft and along his tightening balls, if you had looked at his face you’d have seen a weakened man there, furrowed brows and lust drunk eyes. But you didn’t look, trying to hide the same expression on your own features.

Left hand free, no need to hold yourself up, you made lazy, and you hoped subtle, circles around your clit. You weren’t sure if this was a total failure or not, but you could finish and say something good came of it. You, specifically.

Things were quiet, though. The loudest sound in the room was the wet pop coming from where his body was meeting your sopping hole. His breathing was fast and soft, sighing when he bottomed out. Another bite to your lip, a few more deep hits to your cervix, and you enjoyed a small but satisfying release. The hand on you stayed through, riding out tiny waves of pleasure as you twitched around him. When you felt his release you sighed, you did it. You think. Maybe. Regardless.

As he slowly lifted you, you considered if your legs could hold you—

Up you went and back down you fell as he took a new, quicker pace.

“A-Ah-lastor?! You,” you bit your tongue, “already finished?”

You had made a mistake earlier that you hadn’t even realized. But Alastor had been holding it between his sharp teeth, “How many times?”

Absolutely no idea what he was talking about, you gasped out a reply, “What!?”

“How many times should I fill you before you’re too filthy to return to heaven, do you think?” He couldn’t be serious. “Three? Five? You see, the advantage of using my tentacles is that I don't get tired.”

Oh, but he was serious.

The battle was entirely forfeit somewhere around the third time he flooded you with his seed.

“These aren’t the usual screams I enjoy from my studio, but I’m not averse to them.”

When he felt you’d learned whatever lesson you were supposed to be taking in by the pump full, you were finally removed from him. He covered your lower half with his coat around your waist. It would be lying to say you were surprised to find his wide shoulders and small waist wasn’t just an illusion of his well tailored, yet oddly torn, coat. He was annoyingly attractive. Who gave him the right?

Your legs gave out when you tried to stand, warm hands pulling under your armpits to get you back on your feet. As much as you wanted to push him away, you were still a little tipsy and your legs still getting used to full blood flow. His arm held out for you to use for stability, you took it and wobbled silently to the floor you both lived on. Before you left the elevator you looked down and saw a line of white dripping down your inner leg. Took longer than you expected, honestly.

When you turned to the right to go to your door, his arm came around your waist and shepherded you to his room on the left. You shot him a look, asking what he thought he was doing.

He laughed, “Oh, after tonight’s little escapade, you’re moving!” He opened his door and gestured for you to enter, “Welcome home, my dear.”

What was worse than a failure? A catastrophe? This was that.

“Now come on, we need to get you cleaned up.” A hand patted softly at your ass before ushering you inside.

He did just that, wiping you down and undressing you before settling you into his bed. Exhausted and sore, you decided to argue after sleep.

When you awoke, you checked your shredded bottoms for your phone. Nothing.

An answer was found when you mentioned it to Alastor, who asked what you were searching for so early in the morning, “Perhaps someone at that venue you enjoyed has it? Too bad you can’t go back and ask.” He was resting his back against the headboard, you realized he’d unbuttoned his shirt quite a bit. “Oh well!”

How was he always making you scream?

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

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🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

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#alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x you #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #smut

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 23 days

Text

Dark Moon | Chapter Twelve

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 1,7k

Warnings | +18, angst, mentions of childhood abuse, references to rape, torture, beatings, outbursts of anger, death of a background character, MC is having a really hard time, murder(?), triggering content, this is not for minor.

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | In this chapter Jimin finds out what really happened to MC in the past 💔I recommend reading to a +18 audience, let me know what you think of course! It always makes me very happy to read your comments 🥹💕

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal, @ajkwww, @ungodlyjoon, @hecateslittlewitchling, @namjoonsbuspass, @darkuni63, @xicanacorpse, @jiminismine4ever, @btssimpjaneth, @antisocial-mochi267

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He would have wanted to vomit.

Their men were on Minho's trail, but the bastard had so much property in Korea that it was like looking for a needle in a haystack; what was certain was that he was no longer in town.

It had been five days since her disappearance, Jimin was not even eating anymore, so much were his nerves gnawing at him.

He would not even look Taehyung in the face. It was his job to take care of her and he had left her alone in revenge, no one was home to watch over her, no one.

At the mercy of herself and loneliness.

Just the thought lacerated Jimin in several places, the physical wounds were soon forgotten, the doctor who had been forced by Namjoon to examine Jimin, despite the latter's insistence that it was a waste of time, said the cuts were healing well. But Jimin did not care.

She was his fixed thought.

He was storming Choi hideouts, capturing and torturing members of his gang and allies, but no one knew Y/N, no one had captured her, and everyone did not have close relations with Minho, Jimin felt on the high seas.

Taehyung on his part had not stopped for a moment to carry out to the letter the directives Jimin gave him through Namjoon.

He felt terribly guilty.

With Jimin, and fuck, even with Y/N.

He had not appreciated the girl's gesture, not at all, and in those days he would have liked to use her as target practice, he would not have denied it, but objectively analyzing the situation it was normal that she would sooner or later react that way if pushed beyond her limits.

She still deserved punishment, but not death, and in Minho's hands she would have received both instead, he knew that very well and Jimin did too, an additional reason that drove his friend further and further into madness.

Seeing Jimin destroyed like that had made him realize that she was not just "Jimin's bitch," even if the boy did not admit it, she was "Jimin's woman." One of the family.

Perhaps the man himself still could not understand it, but Taehyung knew that soon Jimin would fully understand his feelings.

The man in question saw the door to his office at the Dark Moon open for Namjoon to appear, carrying a dark folder.

"Any news?" he asked wearily, rubbing his eyes.

"I have what you asked for," he replied, putting that folder on his desk, "I'll leave you alone, okay?"

He didn't want to invade Jimin's privacy, what he was going to read soon would not be easy to digest and he didn't want to witness the boy's weakness, Jimin would not stand for it.

Namjoon left the room in silence and Jimin was left alone with Y/N's past.

He hesitantly took those papers, aware that he was the one who had requested them, sighed before removing the rubber band.

L/N Y/N.

At last he knew her real name, with a strange feeling he continued to read each word carefully.

Her father and mother were foreigners, but they had resided in South Korea since Y/N's birth, who had not finished her studies due to lack of money.

But things got strange after the third page, there were complaints, many.

All made by the mother and all involving the same subject, Y/N.

But they were soon withdrawn.

Statements of bruises, physical and verbal abuse against the girl who at the time was only a ten-year-old girl, the mother accused her husband's brother, she said that he took advantage of the help he offered them to do things with the woman's underage daughter, she did not say explicitly what, she simply pinned Y/N's physical and mental injuries on the man, Mikkel, except that she later withdrew everything.

The authorities soon grew tired of that tirade, paid her no further heed, and ignored the latest complaint, dismissing it as the ramblings of a madwoman.

Jimin's hands trembled as he held the papers, finding a legal and authentic medical report proving sexual assault on Y/N, who was 13 years old. But no one had lifted a finger to help her, even though she was born in Korea she was the daughter of foreigners and bore no Korean surname, who cared about her?

Jimin's dark eyes glittered with fury as he dwelled on the name of the man who had made Y/N's childhood and adolescence a living hell, he now understood many things and felt disgusted with himself.

He too had repeatedly ignored her pleas for help, seeing her as an enemy to be put down and humiliated because she was a woman.

But she was not that kind of despicable, power-hungry woman; she was just a desperate girl.

A gasp went up his esophagus at remembering the despicable words about her virginity, not to mention what a bastard he had been while drunk that last time.

'Now you are no longer a virgin,' he had told her.

He had taken more purity from her without her permission, he felt like a monster.

And he laughed at himself, "You brought me to my knees, baby.... You did it," he said, slumping back against the chair.

"I don't know anything!"

Jimin glowered at the older man; he was as furious as a beast. It had been eight fucking days and still nothing from Y/N.

He was tired of that fucking game.

"I'm going to tell you again, you old ass-kisser, Choi Minho kidnapped my girlfriend and now you're going to tell me where he is right now, you're his fucking butler, you need to know that!" he ranted with his face transfigured with rage, kicking the chair on which the elderly man was tied, tipping it over furiously.

They had found the man in one of the last properties they had searched, it was an English-style mansion, the asshole had lavish fantasies.

"Mr. Choi never warns me about his moves-" a traumatic punch hit him right in the mouth, the old man found himself spitting blood and teeth.

"THEN YOU WILL MAKE ME A LIST OF THE PLACES WHERE YOUR BOSS IS USUALLY HIDING LIKE A SEWAGE RAT!" he ranted, hitting him again, Taehyung and Jungkook looked at him in amazement, never had Jimin lost his temper like that, "And pray that it's in one of them, because if you tease me and anything has happened to her, I'll rip your heart out with my bare hands," he hissed venomously with swollen neck veins.

"Jimin."

Seokjin watched the scene with folded arms and a serious look.

"What?" he did not turn to look at his boss, feeling dejected and tired, nervous and angry. He wanted to kill everyone.

"Calm down, that's not how we're going to find her."

"Yes, I will! I'll cut the throat of anyone who gets in the way, Jin!" he was beside himself, understood a good deal of his feelings, and wanted her back by his side as soon as possible.

He would never leave her alone again.

The insistent ringing of a phone interrupted the flow of his thoughts, he ignored the moans of the man on the ground and concentrated on Seokjin. The boy answered without thinking, and from his expression Jimin guessed that something had happened.

"...So you found the house?" Jimin instantly revived.

Like lightning he reached out and snatched the phone from Seokjin's hands, on the other side was Hoseok.

"Did you find her? Where, tell me where the fuck you are," he began to tar and feather him with questions and expletives until Hoseok could overpower his voice, "... I'll see you there, don't move a fucking muscle, Jung Hoseok," he ordered him, Jin voluntarily took back his phone shaking his head.

"Good job, Hoseok...no, do as he told you," he brought two fingers to his forehead trying to calm his headache, amplified by the prisoner's moans of pain.

He pulled his gun out of his classically cut jacket and fired two quick shots in the direction of the elderly man.

"Namjoon, go with him and prevent him from exposing himself too much, he is still wounded."

"You made me do it, princess," sighed Minho buttoning his pants once more, "If you had listened to me you wouldn't be like this now."

But Y/N was not listening to him, she had no voice left so much she had screamed, her expressionless eyes staring at everything and nothing.

The torture had continued every day, Minhyun beat her and Minho raped her, bringing her to the brink of death every single time when he clutched her neck in a death grip.

She had not eaten for days and was given water only when she did not shriek too much. Like a prize.

She was deeply distraught.

"Now you're boring me, though. Where the fuck is the Bangtan hideout, you know! Jimin would never keep so close to a mere escort, you must count for something to him!"

She counted for nothing to Jimin, otherwise he would have already found and rescued her. Jimin had gotten rid of a burden like her, Minho had done him a favor.

Hot tears slid disgustingly down her bruised face.

That thought hurt her more than any of Minhyun's punches, she had been used to the end, but now she had run out of batteries, she only prayed that with her sister, life had been more merciful and gentle.

"Mr. Choi!" Minhyun slammed the door of that prison alarmingly.

"Who taught you to enter like that!"

"Four of the Bangtans and their men are here," he said in a strained voice, the atmosphere in the room becoming heavy, "One of them is that bastard Park himself, he has already shot and taken out eight of our men at the entrance."

Y/N could see the trembling take over Minho's body, who licked his suddenly dry lips.

Her heart was beating incessantly, Jimin was there, he was there!

"We must leave, now!" exclaimed his bodyguard once again, Minho woke up and turned sharply toward the girl.

A strange expression was present on his face.

"Nothing personal, little girl... " he said before nodding to his henchman, who firmly grabbed his glock, "But the idea that Jimin might get you back doesn't appeal to me one bit," he ran out of the room like a coward, as the deafening sound of a gunshot ripped through the air, a sharp and terrifying sensation expanded from her chest to her nerves, she gaped her lips in a gasp, but blood rushed up her throat and blocked her attempt to catch her breath.

She was dying, really dying.

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esotericpluto · 1 year

Text

your psychic abilities

from left to right; intuitively choose the pile you feel more connected to. To make it easier, you can take a deep breathe, close your eyes and ask for guidance to your deities or guides. These are all general messages, so just take what resonates and leave what doesn't. This reading is timeless. If it resonates, feedback is always appreciated and motivates to keep doing pick a card readings. You can donate here.

pile 1

I'm getting clairvoyance 100% for most, if not all of you who chose this pile. If you are not yet aware of your clairvoyance, this means you still have some a bit of stuff to go through in order to develop it, but that developing the early stages will be quite easy for you.

Clairvoyance can come in many forms. For some of you, I feel like it will come mainly in dreams. You will be able to see entities trying to communicate through your dreams, you will see a lot of dream related symbolisms delivering you messages and guidance or straight up seeing the future through it. If it has ever happened to you to dream about something, even if small, than that happens, that is a sign of your clairvoyance.

For some of you, I'm also getting that you might develop it to see images related to your messages or straight up seeing some images of your future that will be sent to you by your guides as warnings, so pay attention to that.

I see some people may be able to see auras or even, in some cases, when developed enough, to see spirits. For people who will be able to see spirits, this could be only through your mind but I do feel like a small minority here might be able to see them as they would see another human being. For those people, I recommend using protection spells/sigils and protective elements and to try to keep your energy clear. Learning how to control the ability will take a while, but it should be done to protect you as seeing spirits all the time would not be the healthiest for you.

I feel like a good way for you to develop this will be starting guided meditations and guided visualizations exercises. Trying to astral project and lucid dream for some of you can also be really useful, especially if you have the dream related abilities. Looking at art and trying to interpret it, as well as scrying in mirrors, water or crystal balls can also help you develop these skills. I feel like for some of you, putting your feet in salt water can also really help.

I see some of you will be able to help people with their past lives too, by accessing them and seeing them.

pile 2

I see your powers are talking and potentially hearing too for some of you. The hearing would count as clairaudience.

The talking here feels like you have a true power to heal people through your words. You might be able to communicate with animals and/or make them understand you somehow, the same can go for children and babies.

I see like some of you are able to guide lost spirits to the afterlife with your words and prayers, so you can use this ability to help them.

Overall, I feel like your prayers and affirmations are really powerful, almost working like a charm or spell. You should research about chants, prayers, affirmations and incsntations as they will help you a lot and manifest the things you want very quickly, even if all you want is something like protection. Your gift also works for others, so you can use this anility to help others.

I feel like you can work on developing your hearing senses. You might be someone with a good hearing in general. You will be able to channel messages from your guides and other people's guides and these messages will help you. Trust the messages that you receive as they will keep you safe.

You might also hear some interference in technology or music stopping/not playing properly when spirits are around. You might also sometimes hear frequencies or music that isn't coming from earth. This is also a way for spirits to communicate with you.

Some of you might also be gifted in speaking publicly or know how to use words very well when talking to other people in general. I feel like you know how to get what you want out of conversations with people and easily make them feel understood and calm.

Some of you also have this gift extend to nature, trees, flowers. You might have a green thumb because of this, as your energy and words can help plants grow beautifully. Have you seen that experiment of how plants grow when you talk positively towards them vs. how plants grow when you talk negatively to them? This is similar to it in a way.

Ways for you to develop these gifts would be listening to music, not neccessarily the music you always listen to, but those vibrational music videos you can find on youtube, as it will help you a lot to clear your mind and allow entities to talk to you. Volunteering at an animal shelter could also really help you, as well as spending time with nature. I feel like meditating can also help you a lot amd you could use those "communicate with guides" meditations, as that will train you to communicate with them and receive messages. Looking at yourself in the mirror, for some reason, can also help, especially if you affirm good things while doing so.

pile 3

I see most of you can be really talented when it comes to telepathy and able to know what someone else is feeling/thinking. Clair wise, I'm feeling clairsentience and claircognizance the most here.

I also feel like some of you are really talented spell casters and witches. You would really benefit from channeling strong spiritual energies or settong your intentions through spells or general rituals/offerings.

I am seeing many of you can teach people how to improve themselves or other valuable lessons in life. Some of you could even have a karma bringer quality to you and a lot of wisdom that was granted by guides and ancestors who protect you.

I feel like with your intuition, clairsentience and claircognizance, you might be really good at figuring out people's intentions and true personas and are rarely ever wrong about it. You are good with energies and usually are able to decipher them with time. Some of you could also be mediums and communicate with spirits or really good astrologers.

I feel like some of you could be great at divination and tarot reading, so that could be something to consider or work on expanding. I feel like you will find some decks that you really connect with, I mainly am seeing a deck with a black cover and maybe with witchy vibes, but it might change for some of you.

I also feel like some of you will feel some affinity with aquatic animals, maybe even with mythological ones like sirens, selkies, mermaids. This could also mean that you have a great talent for charming and seducing others using your energy.

I'm feeling like readings books about spirituality, psychic abilities and divination will help you a lot to take the first steps to develop this. I feel like lighting up a candle and focusing on the flame until you feel in a trance can also help you to achieve deeper meditative states and your intuition. For some of you, this can also be done by looking into the sea or water in general. Plants can lift up your mood and energy, so consider getting a plant if you don't have one yet. You can also try telepathy exercises and reading for people to train your abilities.

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #free tarot readings #free readings #tarot readings #intuitive readings #pac readings #pick a card readings #pac reading #pick a card reading #free tarot reading #intuitive reading #free intuitive readings #psychic readings #free psychic readings

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thrashkink-coven · 5 days

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When I approached Ra I was apprehensive. I don’t like the idea of supremacy. I don’t jive with the concept of kingship, and my past relationship with Christianity has made me shy away from all things “Father God”. I like the freedom of choice and self discovery that I’ve found in entities like Lucifer.

But Ra is helping me heal, and in him I’m starting to find that the divine masculine isn’t so scary after all. I thought because of his nobility and position as a king, he would be harsh and picky, but he’s starting to help me understand what it really means to be a God of kings. It doesn’t mean being served and obeyed just because you should, it means being such a great and supportive leader that people want to follow you. And as a father, a good father, Ra never raises his voice at his children. He gives them the best advice because he wants them to succeed. I didn’t feel like I “owed” him respect. I just wanted to, I wanted to be around him and learn from him. I wanted to trust in his leadership and I wanted to make him proud. That’s very new for me. Having grown up without a father, I’ve never understood what that feels like.

Ra reminds me of the beauty and strength of powerful men. Men who protect and lead and encourage, men who nurture. Men who use their strength to create rather than destroy. Men who are honest and know how to love.

Ra is warm (of course) and incredibly, indescribably powerful, but also so soft. So gentle. And lively, cheerful. A smiling God. He doesn’t need to be stern and cold to summon those feelings of immense respect and honour of being in his presence. He laughs and he accepts offerings with such appreciation.

Today I gave him an offering of bread with some peanut butter and water. It’s the first one I’ve ever given. And I was overwhelmed with this feeling of him being pleasantly surprised by the peanut butter. As if he was saying “oh! Bread AND peanut butter! This is a treat!”

And something about that made me feel particularly softened. You’re the king of the Gods, the blazing burning Sun that gives all life to Earth, and yet you’re pleasantly surprised by a little peanut butter. Lol.

Today was the first time I called upon Ra for protection. I did a modified banishment of the Hexagram and called to him in his many faces, along with Horus cleanse my space and aura. I’ve never felt so confident in a protection ritual. The pure blazing energy of the sun sanitizes everything it touches. As I hummed each syllable of his holy names I felt him smiling on me. He seems to like singing and humming a lot. It was the first time I’ve ever felt right ending a prayer with “Amen”.

I could feel Mother Isis looking on us too, she seemed relieved that I’ve finally found them. Something about all this feels like coming home.

☀️

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indynerdgirl · 8 months

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My friend's brand new baby girl, Vianney, who was born on Sept 1st, has been in the NICU since Thursday (Sept 14th) and has just been diagnosed with hemimegalencephaly. It's a rare, non-hereditary genetic mutation that caused a malformation of one side of her brain, causing seizures. She'll have to stay in the hospital for several more weeks while they try to get her seizures to slow down. She needs brain surgery but has to make it to 6 months before she can have it. Unless a miracle happens, she will need special care her whole life.

I work for the Little Sisters of the Poor and one of the sisters has suggested we start a novena asking for the intercession of the newly beatified Ulma Family, particularly asking for the special intercession of their unborn baby that was beatified with them, for a complete healing of Vianney.

I would greatly appreciate it if you could spread the word to everyone you know, asking them to help pray for a miracle for little Vianney and her family.

Parents are Jennifer & Shad, and Vianney has two older sisters, Cecilia & Zelie.

Prayer for the Intercession of the Ulma Family

Almighty and eternal God,

we thank You for the testimony of the heroic love of the spouses Józef and Wiktoria with their children, who gave their lives to save persecuted Jews.

May their prayers and example support families in Christian life and help everyone to follow the true path of holiness.

Lord, if it is in accordance with Your will, kindly grant the grace for the complete healing of little Vianney, for which we are asking You through their intercession and count them among the Blessed.

Through Christ Our Lord

Amen

Our Father..., Hail Mary..., Glory Be...

#prayers #prayer #prayer request #prayer requests #ulma family #catholic #catholic church #saints #tumblr catholic #tumblr catholics #christian #novena #novenas #miracle needed #catholic prayer #catholic prayers

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mysticalsoot · 8 months

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i prefer life with you, than without

part 2 of 'glances of love'

➸ note; woo!! here's another part!! if you saw this when I accidentally posted it, no you didn't, shush that never happened !! (requests are open for this series btw!) i will be asleep when this posts so I'll add it to the masterlists in the morning :) (lilly please harass me there's no way in hell im remembering)

➸ pairing; cc!wilbur x gn!reader

➸ summary; wilbur gets a bit self conscious about his relationship with reader but you're quick to reassure him !

➸ warning; possible swearing, mentions and vague descriptions of parental fighting and childhood trauma, food mentions (no EDs), implied age gap (do what you will with that), if there's more lmk!

➸ age-rating; 14-15+

➸ wordcount; 2.4k

main masterlist

glances of love masterlist

your relationship with wilbur had balance, plenty of it. it was rare to even get into an argument and sometimes you'd bicker over small things, bound to look at each other and laugh at the stupidity of the moment. your life was finally happy and quiet, he brought you peace with his smile and his touch. his love radiated from him, making sure you're always warm. he wanted to make sure that part of you that held your inner child could heal, he never wanted to see you break. he never wanted to repeat his own childhood.

he noticed early on in the relationship that when a man's voice raised just a bit too much, you'd flinch and freeze. you'd tense when he tried to soothe you by a touch to your shoulder or chin or face, but you relaxed when you realized it was him. you never wanted to be your parents.

they fought a lot in your earlier childhood, arguing over small minute things, your dad refusing to pick up around the house and leaving your mother to do the rest. there were threats, and there were screams. you'd cover your ears and so would your siblings. the tears would build, threatening to spill as the screams of your parents echoed on the walls.

you told Wilbur this after the first few times he caught you flinching at someone yelling, the final time being when he yelled at someone for catcalling you. he pushed this time, while the others he just frowned and let it slide, when you flinched at him, it broke his heart and so he had to know why.

you told him how you'd pray to god your parents would wake up back in love or get a divorce and that it seemed neither prayer was answered. you told him how you were hyper independent as a child, just to avoid irritating your parents more. how his way of caring for you helped heal that wounded child still tucked inside.

and then he told you of similar experiences, how when his parents were fighting the most, he felt torn between them. like he was this weight keeping them held in this marriage they didn't seem to want. then they had his little brother, Tommy, and it seemed to fix it. until his father became too busy for wilbur, but not too busy for Tommy or Tech. but then he was too busy for everyone, and his mom withdrawaled and no longer seemed as interested in his life. so he likes caring for others, it gives him a purpose and if he cares for someone that needs it, he'll have that loving and appreciative attention he desires.

both of you had your shared traumas but you worked through it, he never yelled, you let him care for you (although, you needed that help anyways). it was a fair deal you two had subconsciously made.

the day was quiet, the both of you cleaning up the kitchen together with a front bottoms album playing in the living room. he'd spin you around, making you giggle before you'd both go back to cleaning. he was working on dishes, and then he paused, eyes glancing up ever so slightly as he sucks in a breath.

your heart jumped into your throat when he spoke those words; "baby, we need to talk."

it was sweet, but not sickeningly so. he was gentle with his tone and his words, taking a few steps towards you in the kitchen, tilting his head down to meet your eyes. he was smiling, sweetly at that.

"yes, Wil?" you smile up at him, your hands gripping at his sides as you try to hide the fear in your eyes and voice.

he grabs your face in his hands gently, thumbs rubbing your jawline before he kisses the tip of your nose. he pulls back, eyes sporadically searching yours.

"don't you think I'm too old for you? i mean.. shouldn't you be out, partying and making mistakes instead of staying in and baking cookies with me before settling on the couch to binge a show until we sleep..." he pauses, eyes trailing away before they gaze down on you again. you hold back on speaking, keeping your words on your tongue while you wait for him to finish, "am I taking that experience away from you?"

you shake your head slowly, your hands reaching up to cover his larger ones and you sigh at the feeling of his skin under your fingertips.

"no, not much would be different in my life if we weren't together. besides my life would be sadder and lonelier. at least I can do my old person activities with someone else." you smile, shrugging as you turn your face to kiss his palm, eyes looking up at him through your lashes.

"are you calling me old?" he taunts, smirk curling up and the frown shown before is completely gone.

you turn your gaze away as you shake your head, "noooo.. I mean you are kinda old? you are twenty-six after all."

"oh you little shit-" he smirks, grabbing you by the waist and picking you up. he carries you over to the couch and pins your limbs down, fingers attacking at your sides and belly as you swat at his hands.

"wil- no! it tickles!" you breathe out through loud giggles, squirming in your spot.

"this is for calling me old, baby," he continues tickling until you give him a warning glare, "okay, okay," he chuckles with his hands in the air before he sits back, pulling you into his lap. you settle between his thighs, resting your head on his shoulder as he pets the back of your head. he kisses your temple as he hums.

"I hope you mean what you said," he turns the conversation back to what it was earlier. an exasperated sigh leaving his chest as he chews on his lip, "I don't want to be the one to take those experiences away."

"do I look like I'm one to have a desire for partying?" you scoff playfully, thinking to all the moments where you'd drink with him and his band after a show.

he thinks for a moment and then shakes his head, kissing your cheek and nose and forehead.

"i guess not, you're a bit of a recluse, hm?" he teases, smirk crawling back up on his features. you swat at his chest, gasping in mock offense.

"I am not! i go out all the time!" you scoff and shake your head. he holds your hips a bit tighter, keeping you held in your lap.

"okay, then, when's the last time you went out?" his smirk deepens, eyes glinting with mischief.

it takes you a few minutes to conjure an answer, unsure as you speak, "I went to waterstones like.. two days ago?"

"baby.." he starts, tone a bit stern but still teasing.

"okay, okay fine! maybe I am a bit of a recluse but I like it, I do. i really like staying in and doing my work and waiting for you to come back. it's peaceful and I finally feel safe enough to just live and be alone. it's safe, I like it," you take a deep breath after your rant, looking down at his hands, taking one of them and playing with his fingers mindlessly, "you're safe." it's merely but a whisper, but he hears it and he can't tell if his heart is breaking or healing. your words struck a cord with him and he doesn't know how to swim through sludge in his brain.

"I'm not taking anything away from you?" his voice cracks softly, a small frown on his lips, an expression of worry. he fears being the one holding you back, despite the both of you being in similar stages of life. stable incomes, jobs and lives. you share finances, the apartment, grocery bills. he goes on tour, you stay back and edit two or so videos a week. you're both happy, and you aren't sure why he's so insistent that he's holding you back. if anything, he helps project you forward. he assists you in every which way. he helps you, he encourages you, he loves you.

"not one thing," you smile, holding his hands and shaking them a bit before kissing each of his fingertips. you lean forward, head on his shoulder as you tuck your legs between his. your body nestles between his thighs and he wraps his legs around you in a little nest.

"do you regret this?" he hums, worry still controlling his every thought. he's so anxious, and you can't entirely figure out why.

you sit back, looking up at him as you play with the fluff of hair that hangs over his forehead and you think, letting thoughts and worries be sifted through.

"mm.." thoughts scurry around, glimpses of brief worries, of judgement from friends and family, from fans in particular, "no, I don't. i really never have. why regret something that gives me you?"

"because you regret not doing certain things," he shrugs, taking your hands in his and laughing softly at the size difference. it looks so ridiculous to him, he must look like a giant to you. perhaps he is a giant.

"if I wanted to go out and party, there's nothing stopping me. there's absolutely nothing in my way that keeps me from living life," you smile to yourself, watching as he rubs his thumbs over your hands, bringing them to his lips to kiss.

"you could be dating though, not just stuck with one guy," he whispers, kisses placed on your palms and fingers and wrists.

"I like being stuck with my guy," his eyes finally meet yours and they seem to melt in a way. a small whine escapes his lips as he grabs your body, arms wrapped around your form before he pulls you into a sweet hug.

you giggle and laugh, bringing your lips to his for a sweet, loving embrace. a few moments pass and he pulls away, "I'm yours?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way," you smile, kissing his forehead, just to pull back and meet his eyes. you sigh happily before getting attacked with kisses to your lips.

"mine.." he mumbles between each meeting of your lips, sighing and humming in between kisses and mumbles.

"my baby.." he smiles, pulling back to admire you, his thumb traces your cheek and jaw. it presses into your skin gently, rubbing smooth, soft circles onto your face. jaw, chin, lips, cheek.

you giggle at the kisses, a fluttering, ticklish feeling beneath each one. wilbur smiles at each kiss, placing each one with gentle care, love left behind at every touch of his lips.

"pizza for dinner?" you hum softly, holding his upper arms gently, not quite able to wrap around them fully.

he pulls away gently, smile still on his lips and eyes foggy with some sort of mixed love emotion. he nods, placing a kiss to your throat, "I'll order, yeah? I'll run a bath for you and set out some of my clothes for you to change into," he hums, kisses to your collarbone and shoulder, his hums echoing in your bones.

"a bath?" your words hold part offense and part curiosity.

"I am not saying you need it, I'm saying that I may have splurged yesterday and bought a few new bathbombs for you.." he trails off, kissing your cheek. he's smug with his words, and you swat at his chest.

"Wil, really?" you scoff playfully, rolling your eyes with a warm smile.

"what? they smelled good!" he counters, leaning back to look down at you with a small pout.

"they're lavender scented, aren't they?"

he hums, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he shrugs, "maybe, but it's your favorite,"

you nod, laughing softly as you slip out of wilbur's lap. he holds your wrist gently, thumb rubbing the skin there for a few seconds before smiling and letting go.

he draws your bath as you both chat about random things, kissing you before leaving you to enjoy the warm bath with bathbombs and smelly soaps and bubbles.

you don't spend too long in your bath, maybe 20 minutes before you're draining it and drying off, changing into a pair of wilbur's boxers and one of his shirts. you hum as you walk out of the bathroom and through the bedroom. a few strides and you're behind him in the kitchen, wrapping your arms around his waist. you kiss on his back for a few moments, humming to yourself.

"thank you, love," you whisper as he places his hands on yours, you scratch at his stomach gently with your fingertips.

"you're welcome, honey. pizza will be here in a few, okay? why don't you go over and rest on the couch, I'll be in there in a minute," he turns in your grasp, leaning down and grabbing your face, a kiss to your forehead that lingers as he hums against your skin. he pulls back and smiles at you, a kiss to your nose and you turn around to the living room.

you hurry to the couch, hopping on it and curling up with pillows and blankets as you set up some random movie on Netflix.

wilbur comes in a few minutes later, a box of pizza and a couple plates in hand. he dishes a piece out for you both, cuddling up next to you under the blanket and watching the movie along with you. it's nice, the quiet. you don't always need words with wilbur, sometimes the silence is plenty for you both, how calming and serene it is to not have to say anything.

it goes like this for a few hours, until you're both falling asleep, wrapped up together and dozing off with half lidded eyes.

"I love you, you know that?" you hum, looking into wilbur's eyes as best you can, trying desperately to fight sleep.

"I do, I just worry," he sighs, kissing your forehead with a sleepy smile.

"then don't worry," you kiss his nose, rubbing his cheeks with your thumbs.

he smiles and kisses you once, a quick peck that says a million more words than spoken and he tucks his head in your shoulder. his breathing steadies out, followed by gentle snores before you're lulled to sleep with him.

you much prefer life with him than without and you hope he feels the same.

taglist; @lcvejoy @lillylvjy @ella-fella-bo-bella @lotusanonymouse @ughtreyparker @whos-nicooo @zebonos

#glances of love masterlist #cc!wilbur soot x gn!reader #c!wilbur soot x gn!reader #wilbur x gn!reader #wilbur soot x gn!reader #gn!reader #gn reader #wilbur fanfiction #wilbur imagine #wilbur x reader #wilbur!!!#wilbur soot #dsmp wilbur #wilbur x you #wilbur x y/n #wilbur #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you

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photomattreal · 2 months

Note

Hello 👋 I was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer at the end of 2023 while I was pregnant with my second child. It has been a battle to say the least but I am fighting! I had my first mastectomy while pregnant last year and recently finished chemo and radiation, which is huge but me and my family still have a LONG road ahead of us! I completed the ovary surgery now the other mastectomy will be next, once my radiation site heals. I will get another huge surgery! In the meantime I am taking my medication to hopefully keep any cancer from returning!! Physical therapy is in the works for my left arm. What a journey. I appreciate people taking the time to read this. My friends and family have been amazing threw this all!!! If you feel like you would like to donate my link is below! Please keep us in your prayers. I am FIGHTER! I would appreciate if anyone could share this! I ❤️

I knew this was suspicious when I first got it and with further discovery, this is in fact a scam. Please don't reblog or post this scammers information unless you are spreading the word they are a scammer.

1.) They only have posts dating back to about yesterday, seemingly not of which have original text or tags adding on to it.

2.) This scammer has been scamming any inbox they get get into, literally just copy paste their spheel into tumblr search and you'll find other people calling out the scam.

3.) Another user discovered this linkedin post of the actual person with cancer:

Stealing donations from people with cancer is a new fucking low. I hope you also explode in a car covered with hammers.

#scam alert #scam #please be aware #burn in hell #lgbt #lgbtqia #lgbtq #transisbeautiful #hammer car explosion #carhammerexplosionmatt #trans rights #this has been a psa #psa

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queen-of-the-avengers · 3 months

Text

Facade

Pairing: Thor x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You're the onsite doctor for the Avengers. You don't mind helping others but Thor is one of the ones you would be okay with not fixing up... sometimes.

Squares Filled: "i may not like you, but i'm not heartless" (2023) for @thorbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

This is the fifth time Peter has been inside your lab asking you to fix him. He’s a good kid but if he keeps this up, he’s not going to want to be Spiderman anymore.

“Peter, you’re going to break your arm if you keep swinging around recklessly. I told you to stay out of construction zones.”

“Yeah, I know,” he chuckles.

You finish sewing the small cut he has on his arm. He has fast-healing powers but he still comes to you whenever he is injured.

“Okay, you’re all good to go. Do you want a lollipop?”

“Do you have one?” he asks seriously.

“No, get out of here,” you laugh. “No heavy lifting for a few days. You don’t want your stitches to break.”

“You got it, Doc. Thanks.”

He leaves your office and you start to clean up for the next patient. Currently, you’re the onsite doctor for the Avengers. Some of them have healing powers but you get to fix up people like Natasha, Bruce, Clint, Tony, and anyone else who is in need of medical attention. Before joining the team, you were a trauma surgeon and a nurse before that. You’re the one who is best qualified to be the doctor on the team.

When Loki attacked New York in 2012, your hospital was one of the ones that got hit. You tried your best to keep up with everyone and transfer them to somewhere else. Tony got injured after putting the nuke in the portal, and you were the one to fix him up. Ever since that, you’ve been exclusively with the team.

The job can be demanding but you love helping people. Your charming personality makes it easy to get along with everyone but there is one person who you can’t stand: Thor. He thinks he’s high and mighty and can do whatever he wants without consequence. You’re not going to fall for him and his big muscles and charming personality. You’ve dated someone like Thor before. Never again.

You put the medical supplies that you’ve used on Peter into the hazardous waste bucket and grab new tools you know you’re going to need. Half of the team is out on a mission and will likely be looking for you once they come back so you have to get your lab ready.

The team comes back with Thor weighing heavily on both Steve and Tony. He is badly injured on his stomach, and you clear your medical bed so he can lie on it.

“What happened to him?”

“Got caught in the crossfire. Can you fix him?”

“Is that a question you just asked me? Go away. I got this.”

Thor passed out from the pain so he’s out when you start to clean him up. You grab a new needle and some stitches to sew his skin back together. You hope he’s going to be out for the whole time but your prayers aren’t answered. Thor gasps awake and tries to move but you push him back down on the table.

“Don’t move when I have a needle near your skin.”

“What happened?”

“You got hurt. I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”

You slip the needle through both sides of his wound and tie the stitch together. You look up at his abs which are glistening with sweat. You can’t help but stare at how good he looks.

“I thought you hated me. Why are you fixing me?”

“I may not like you, but I’m not heartless. I’ll still do my best to fix you up like I would with anyone.”

You place your hand on his abs to get a better angle as you use your other hand to sew his skin together.

“Oh, I see what’s happening. You just wanted an excuse to touch me,” he smirks.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I need you to be still.”

You work as quickly as you can so he can get the hell out of your lab. When you’re done sewing, you take some gauze and place it over his wound to keep it clean. You use skin tape to keep the gauze in place.

“Okay, don’t move too much or your stitches will open.”

You go to move but he grabs your hand to stop you.

“I might need help to my room.”

“You can walk,” you roll your eyes. “You are the most dramatic man I’ve ever met, and I’ve met Loki.”

“No, no, no, I can’t walk. Please.”

“You’re a big baby,” you sigh. “Come on.”

You help him off the table and let him use your body as a support system. You escort him to his room and almost shove him onto his bed. Almost.

“Can I have some water?” he croaks.

“Sure.”

You get him a glass of water.

“Can you get me an extra blanket?”

“Fine.”

You toss another blanket on him.

“Can you tuck me in?”

“Okay, I am not your mom. Tuck yourself in.” You walk to his door but you don’t leave it. “You know, I could have let you fend for yourself. I didn’t have to help you.”

“You don’t have it in you,” he smirks.

“You have what you need. Don’t bother me.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

You roll your eyes to act like you’re annoyed but you have a smile on your face. Okay, maybe you don’t hate him as much as you say you do.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#thor #thor fic #thor fanfiction #thor x reader #thor fanfic #thor fluff #thor fiction #thor fan fiction #thor fan fic #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fluff

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ascendingaeons · 26 days

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The Story Behind My "Hymn to Sekhmet"

I was very surprised with how much traction my Hymn to Sekhmet has gotten… so I decided to share the story behind it. This might be quite long, but I think a lot of you would appreciate it.

I have been an eclectic pagan for most of my life. Heathenry was my focus in that sense that I worked with the Vanir and studied runology since I was fifteen. Kemeticism was my passion since childhood, but I was never formally a devotee. I pretty much worked exclusively with Set for most of my life. Our relationship is somewhere between father and son and student and guide. In the summer of 2020, I decided to finally set up a Kemetic altar.

It comprised of three statues and three candles on a small, very old nightstand and was otherwise unadorned. One statue was to Set, another to Bast, and the third to Sekhmet. I focused exclusively on Set and Bast for a while. I was afraid of Sekhmet. I read every book I could find about Her and they nearly all had one thing in common about a Sekhmet-based practice: if you cannot do it yourself, do not ask Her about it. That really intimidated me to the point I took Her statue down several times before it earned a permanent place.

One day in September of 2020 I finally prayed to Sekhmet with an offering of cold water. I felt a circular window of fire about 16 inches in diameter open up in front of my face just above my altar. It felt hot, like the heat of a campfire. I felt that She was looking at me. After a few seconds, the window disappeared. I didn’t interact with Her for a while after that.

In November of 2020, my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. He was given six months to live and chemotherapy was prescribed. I was immediately thrust into the role of caregiver. I drove my dad to and from chemotherapy, gave him his meds and food, helped him to the bathroom, cleaned him up, and anything else I could do. I was awake for about 22 hours a day for six months, even with the help of a hospice company.

One night, when my dad was on respite (what hospice companies call when a patient is sent to a nursing home for a few days so the caregiver can recover), I felt… really bad. I felt alone, afraid, numb, and lost. Without any offering or formality, I prayed to Bast. I asked Her to just stay with me. I suddenly felt myself wrapped up in a blanket of what felt like bubblegum-pink energy. It felt like stuffed animals, cotton candy, a fuzzy quilt, and just… pure love. I later learned that this describes the higher heart chakra’s energy but to me, it was just Bast. She hugged me like that for about an hour until She decided I was okay, and then, very much like a cat, She left.

The days went on with barely any sleep, a lot of emergencies and scares, until one day my dad was finally asleep. It was around four in the afternoon. I was thinking a lot about Sehkmet at this point and Her domain of healing. It was very near and dear to my heart. At the time I was thinking of going back to school to finish my psychology degree and become a counselor. I took the time to get cold water in a nice glass and some fresh bread I had delivered that morning. I put it all on a golden plate I ordered for my altar.

I prayed to Sekhmet, solemnly and respectfully, naming Her Epithets and offering praise in addition to water and bread. I asked… that She let everything be okay and help me to be a better caregiver to my dad. The sad thing is, I was very hard on myself. I felt like I was not doing enough but I later found out that every nurse and social worker from the hospice company had, individually and separately, reported to the company’s administrator in high praise of me. I didn’t know then that some caregivers are really horrible to the point of neglect and abuse. I was doing the best I could in a situation that was out of my control and was given a level of praise that floored me.

After concluding my prayer, I lay down in my bed next to my altar. I was lying on my side when suddenly Sekhmet’s etheric body manifested beside me. I could feel it and somewhat see it with my third eye. She started to rub my back as I lay there. Her hand felt like the sun’s heat reflected off of water, a sensation I knew well from fishing in summer. It felt almost like fire but one that would never burn me. As She rubbed my back, I felt Her head come next to mine. I felt Her face, soft and bristly, next to my left ear as She began to speak words I couldn’t hear. I could even feel the heat from Her breath.

Unlike Bast, Sekhmet stuck around. She followed me everywhere for the next two days. It hadn’t really sunk in yet but I had received what, for me, was irrefutable proof of the Gods’ love. Set was with me my entire life, my teacher and friend. Bast and Sekhmet creaked open the door to theurgy a little bit more. It wasn’t until my Reiki Attunement ceremony that the door was blown clean off its hinges when over a dozen Netjeru physically manifested. During my Attunement, Bast held my left hand and Sekhmet held my right. By the end of the ceremony, the two were hugging me as I lay on my teacher’s table.

As I began working with the Netjeru in my shamanic practice, Sekhmet communicated something to me. She asked me to offer Her my pain and fear. And so I wrote that hymn on what was proving to be a very hard day.

I can never go back to a world where the Gods do not exist or do not love us completely, irrevocably, and unconditionally. My relationship with the Netjeru is one of mutual loyalty, love, admiration, and service. For all intents and purposes, I am a new Kemetic. I have studied Egyptology since I was seven years old and regarded Kemet as a far-flung home, a feeling that has never left my heart since it ignited there when I was a toddler. But that is a story for another day.

Well… that is my story. I hope it finds you well!

Dua Sekhmet! Dua Netjeru!

Image is “Sekhmet Devotional” by Valoreanthes. A Mother Lioness and Her cub, a side of Sekhmet far too often overlooked.

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vilsoo · 2 years

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JJK MEN PROPOSING 💍

tags. domesticity, fluff, established relationship, cheesy warning jic, eventual smut (geto), gender neutral reader.

ft. nanami, geto, gojo, toji

notes. all are just headcanons/drabbles of how the jjk men would propose to their significant other !! to all my fluff/domesticity enthusiasts, i hope you enjoy <33

ꨄ NANAMI KENTO

when nanami feels that the time has come and wants to spend the rest of his life with you, he would plan a surprise proposal for you in a special, beautiful beach in malaysia. he’d make it seem that the two of you were just on a vacation during holiday, traveling together and spending more time sightseeing; but really, he’s been planning to ask you for months. nanami would analyze your jewelry when you’re gone just to see what kind of engagement ring would fit you the best. hiding the ring for a few weeks and taking it to malaysia was the easiest part as well as asking you to doll up earlier that day so you’d look nice for your proposal. he would take you to a private, quiet coast when the sun is setting and have a picnic. when you stand up and turn away from him to stare into the mesmerizing sky for a few moments, nanami took the opportunity to pull the ring box from his pocket. he would keep holding your hand then gently squeeze it when he’s finally ready, whirling you around to face him.

“i can’t wait to have moments like this for the rest of our lives,” nanami says while kissing your forehead. it wasn’t until he props down on one knee, your heart erratically beating faster when he opens the ring box and presents the ring.

“will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

ꨄ GETO SUGURU

geto is so sweet and intimate with you, he loves every second he spends being with you. with a few years of dating, you’ve been understanding of each other, growing in love together, overcoming obstacles on the long run, healing each other healthily, and sharing the same future goals. your relationship has never felt so important to him. he cherished this long term relationship with his life that he decided to take it to the next step. so knowing that you love surprises from him, geto would plan the proposal by simply having it at the house you shared and surprise you with a fancy dinner then pop the question poetically. he would cook the dinner for you, prepare some wine, place the bouquets of your favorite flowers, and of course; prepare the bed for later that night with candles and rose petals on the floor. when you finally come home and see what he prepared, you were a little oblivious of what the special occasion was, but at the same time kept the thought in your head. you appreciated his lovely dinner, the wine, and his sweet talk with you it had you flattered. it wasn’t until geto stands up and gives a toast to you; speaking his desires, declaring his love, and talking about his future that he sees with you. then getting on one knee, geto pulls out the ring box and presents to you a gorgeous, glimmering engagement ring.

“my love. i adore you and our life together. you are ethereal, my answered prayer, my dream come true. i’ve waited so long to get this beautiful ring on your finger. will you marry me?”

not long after your fancy homemade dinner and saying yes to him, you’re already passionately making out with him on the bed. geto wouldn’t stop staring at the ring adorning your finger, asking you every few minutes to show it off right in front of him. seeing you give him a handjob with the ring on turned him the fuck on. he also found it hot seeing you grip the sheets with it as he pounds you prone, whispering some affectionate words and praises while his cock is burried deep inside you...

ꨄ GOJO SATORU

even though you’re in a long term committed relationship with gojo, you could never picture him getting on one knee and proposing while saying some cheesy shit. he’s a fun, down to earth, loving and affectionate boyfriend that can be very romantic at times. however, he’s also unpredictable. and you never knew that a proposal and a wedding was something he’s been planning to have for you as well as pursuing you. growing old with you, bonding with you, supporting you— he wanted all of that for the rest of his life with you. when gojo asks for some help for the proposal, itadori would gladly volunteer while nanami would be forced to contribute. they would organize this as a little scavenger hunt with clues hinting of all his favorite locations where you had your dates and finally leading to him at the beautiful scenery where your very first date was. gojo would make this very fun and memorable for you since you mean so much. after following all the clues leading up to the final spot, you found nanami, where he would lead you to a decorated field and itadori recording the moment unfolding. you start to feel a roller coaster of emotions when you see what gojo has done for you. and that’s when he comes out of hiding, walking to you to hold both of your hands for reassurance, then finally getting down on one knee to present you a stunning ring.

“will you make me the happiest, honored man throughout heaven and earth and marry me?”

ꨄ TOJI FUSHIGURO

toji may be a little cold and blunt, but deep down he is very soft, intimate and affectionate with his significant other. he views marriage as something he doesn’t really prioritize until it feels right, but does consider it as special and should be cherished as long as it’s with the right person for him. and once he finally got to know you, you became the most special person in his life. someone he’s willing to spend the rest of his life with. toji’s never been so driven to want to make you feel so important to him no matter what it would take. every thought of his is just consumed by you. toji can be a little romantic for you as well. as you bonded together talking about your future, he knew you were made perfectly for him. even when you both kissed and made love the first time, his desire for you deepened like he was in a rapture. he would be obsessed with the passion and the roughness. he would even deny to himself about how someone like you would just come into his life and change him. then, he finally decided that you were meant to be together. which is why he saved enough money to buy you a gorgeous engagement ring that he knew you would love, and finally ask your hand in marriage down in sin city las vegas. he didn’t really wanna go all out with the proposal, but at the same time he wanted it to be as intimate and memorable for you. so after a fancy dinner date night, the both of you kiss passionately at the rooftop overlooking the city lights. then, toji would slowly get down on his knee and pop the question.

“there are many ways to be happy in this life, but all I really need is you. and i’d give up anything to hear a ‘yes’ from you right now. will you marry me?”

#jujutsu kaisen various #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen toji #gojo satoru x you #toji fushiguro x you #geto suguru x you #nanami kento x you #i need soft passionate toji pls #nanami kento fluff

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pedros-immaculate-vibes · 5 months

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A Peaceful Elf

Part X

Halsin/Tav fanfic (slow burn, fluff, angst)

The pine bark bit at your fingers in a familiar way. You had always found a path to commune with The Lady of the Forest while running your fingers through the cracks of a fir tree, closing your eyes and finding the chord in your soul that sung her melody. Injured, you hadn’t been able to visit her presence through prayers the way you did every morning; peace had rippled down through you as you knelt at her alter again.

Metaphorically knelt, of course—you no longer needed the splint, but your leg wasn’t prepared for that yet; although, it was far down the path to mended. Your Druid companion had a way with healing magic and repaired it faster than you had assumed was possible. No wonder those hands were so famous in the grove…

That thought almost severed your focus. Halsin’s morning voice wiped it clean away.

“Good morning, I see you’re up.” A yawn, uncannily like a bear, “I would have thought you’d like to sleep a bit later given last night.”

Gods, I hope I get to hear that sentence from him again, under different circumstances.

“I had a hard—Difficult time, falling back to sleep. It was a bit jarring,” you said, feeling your heart beat in more than one place. You needed to finish your prayers and to collect yourself. “I’ve been meditating all morning, I’m almost done, is it alright if you—”

“Oh, my apologies, I merely thought you were appreciating the pine forest. Carry on,” palms up in a placating way. “Find me when you’re done,” and he left.

A deep exhale, trying to ground yourself again. A few minutes later, and you were focused, pleading with your lady for strength, healing, and the wisdom to not do or say anything stupid today. You swore you heard a mirthful, light chuckle filter through the pine needles. You sent one last token of thanks, then closed the connection as gracefully as possible.

You made your way back to camp, feeling how others had told you they felt before a battle: shaky and heart pounding. You could blame it on the lack of sleep—clearly you were just exhausted. If he noticed (of which there was a good chance), that’s what you’d say. A little deception can smoothen out certain unavoidable discomforts. You began rounding a boulder that marked being within earshot of the camp when a sudden wave of relaxation washed over you from no where in particular.

My sincerest gratitude, Mielikki. You touched your forehead and offered your hand to the tree tops in thanks to the goddess.

Maybe today would be easy after all.

Arriving back at camp, you saw Halsin straddling the end of one of the campfire circle logs, slicing a third apple into wedges on a plate, the dish of honey nearby. He was still in his camp leisure attire, looking very comfortable. “Hello, again,” much less gravel in his voice. “I figured I could have a light breakfast before we head out and test that leg, if you’ve any interest.” He finished slicing the apple wedges and began drizzling honey over them, conservatively. “After what I did last night, I think one more healing should do the trick; however, feel free to correct me if I am mistaken.” He shook his head quickly to the side, sweeping his eyes back down at his plate, “you seemed to do a number to it while you slept, thank goodness you cried out when you did. I was quite entranced by a dream I was having…nothing less would have roused me,” he said with a mysterious smile.

…Could he have had…

No, no there’s no possible way.

You blinked, trying to regain your presence of mind.

“I think I have the strength for it now, when you’re ready. What did you have in mind?”

Halsin lifted his eyebrows and peered up at you. “I’m that effective a healer, am I? HaHA, I’ll take that as high praise,” he grinned, popping an apple wedge between his teeth. “Excellent! I’ll make quick work of this and ready a few more things. A patrol of the road and back should be enough, agreed?” as another wedge disappeared.

“Agreed.”

Not ten minutes pass before you both leave camp. You thought to bring the walking stick, but there’s no need, you felt fine. It would just be a burden. The walk should only take…you realize you have no idea how far you’ll be walking.

“How far is this little trek?”

“Do you see that ruin at the top of the hill?”

It was at least a quarter mile away. “…yeah.”

“To there.”

Oh, joy, okay, you thought with a quiet sigh.

“And if you start to ache before then, we can always turn back.” He meant it kindly; you took it as a challenge.

“I’ll be fine.”

***

You were not fine.

Trying to keep your breathing steady, you managed to make it to the top of the hill, driven by pure spite against your own wound. As someone with healing abilities, you should have known this was poor judgement; as someone who prided herself on being hard-headed, you chose to ignore that.

The injury was one thing. Still needing a good night’s rest was another. You were no githyanki warrior nor were you exactly built like you had designs to become a paladin; your strength came from shifting into something stronger. God’s only know where Halsin seems to get all of that from, you mused, looking at his shoulders.

He had begun pestering you with questions as soon as he saw the first limp. “And you’re sure you don’t require some assistance? I’ll remind you, I can’t heal you effectively while you still need to walk on it; you need to rest. Perhaps, if I tried healing you and carrying—”

“Tch,” a hand raised in resistance to the thought, “I already said I’d pass,” eyes wide at imagining the experience. “I have to maintain some level of dignity,” you muttered under your breath. Riding piggy back would ruin just about anything I have left.

He turned to face you, walking backward down the hill. “Have any acquaintances ever informed you that you have a stubborn streak as long as the Chionthar?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, they have. I’ve thanked them each time,” you stuck out your chin.

He smiled, sighed, and turned back toward the downhill path.

A moment passed, and he turned to face you again with a curious, mischievous look in his eyes. “Have you ever ridden a bear?”

“Wha—?” You’re face drained, realizing what he meant. “No, absolutely not. There is NO possible way I—”

In that instant, Halsin hunched while his eyes glowed and his smile turned to one with fangs and fur, and then…

You were faced with a cave bear, the same gigantic one from what felt like months ago at the goblin camp. It seemed intent on not letting you walk the rest of the way down, blocking your path when you tried to circumvent the beast.

And of all the options you had at your disposal, you decided running was the best. Limp be damned.

“No no no no NO no no no No,” you chanted, almost to the Lady of the Forest herself, praying to keep a shred of self respect by miraculously making it back to the camp on your own, the giant bear in tow. You heard a howl that sounded suspiciously like his laugh, closer than you expected. “BY HELM’S BEARD, IF YOU—” and you never finished the sentence. Catching up with you, Halsin curved his snout around your waist from behind and leapt slightly, bouncing you onto his back. You caught the fur at his shoulder blades, then worked your way up to a slanted sitting position.

You were mortified.

You were relieved.

This was exhilarating.

***

“What would you have happened if I’d fallen? You complete idiot!” You tried to foment some level of anger in yourself. What he’d done was objectively stupid; you should probably be mad…right?

“I wasn’t going very quickly. And, I would have caught you, of course,” not a shred of doubt in his response as he found his pipe and began packing it by the campfire.

“Caught me with your bare hands, would you?” You were proud of the pun.

“My elven ones, yes. I’d planned on shifting and catching you, should your balance fail,” not a drop of remorse as a few sparks came from his flint and knife, igniting a glow within the borders of a stray campfire coal he’d grabbed.

MY BALANCE FAIL. For some reason, that subtle dig did find purchase in your irritation.

He lit the pipe with the glowing coal end, notching it between his canines. Glancing up at you, he must have seen the growing ire.

“I promise to not do it again, on my honor,” removing the pipe and placing one hand to his chest, looking down like a knight swearing fealty, “until you request it of me,” his gaze rose back up to yours with a smirk.

“You regret nothing, do you?” You smiled back in astonishment, no longer able to sustain the annoyance. “And I’M the stubborn one.”

“You are. You’re just not the only stubborn one, dear one,” placing the pipe back in his mouth, his lips encircling it with a grin. He sauntered back to the tent, kneeling by the side of your cot to sift through the equipment bag.

There was that title again. When did you hear it last…Had you heard it before, or had you imagined it?

He paused his searching, hung his head and sighed deeply. Turning on his heels back to you, he soberly added, “If I have truly wronged you, I do apologize. Sometimes, I let the bear get the better of me, but I should not make that your concern,” he smiled, wanly.

“Thank you,” you replied, distracted from your thoughts. “Just don’t surprise me next time, alright?” You mustered the very last gram of irritation you had left on the subject.

“I promise,” he nodded. “Now, if you’re not opposed, let’s take a look at that leg.”

You’d temporarily forgotten the ache until that moment. “I’ll be honest, riding a bear probably wasn’t the best choice with an injured thigh,” you remarked, walking unevenly to the cot.

“…You’re not wrong,” he agreed, scratching his forehead, horror poorly concealed as it crept into his features. “Has the pain worsened?”

Your eyes twinkled as you sat down, enjoying his discomfort, “No.”

“Silvanus preserve me, woman,” he huffed under his breath, both vexed and relieved. Victory, as he began puffing billows again, muttering, “Let’s take a look.”

He lowered to one knee and allowed you to move your skirts to the side, once more. The bandage was clean, and not wanting to waste good wrappings, he took the time to unravel it. You reminded yourself to breath evenly.

“Hmm,” a thoughtful exhale, as he viewed the healing claw marks, “still progressing well.” He’d wanted to heal the wound focusing with the interior, first; the aesthetics and exterior came after the most vital areas.

He placed the pipe by his lowered knee, shut his eyes, hovered his palms over the wound, and stretched his neck up to the tent ceiling. A pale green glow crackled silently around his hands and your leg, his eyebrows knitting as he focused, muscles taught in his arms and throat.

Shamelessly, you admired the view.

The glow subsided, as did the ache in your thigh. His eyes opened, clear and focused, migrating to you. “How does it feel now?”

Clearing your throat, “Better. Thank you.”

“Of course,” he looked down, grinning. He raised an eyebrow, inhaling deeply, and still not looking directly at you, “You should get some rest, let the healing set in a bit. Perhaps take those hours you couldn’t after your,” his voice became husky, “after this morning.” He collected the wrappings and replaced the pipe, puffs of the sweet and earthy smoke floating up and out through a few well placed vents in the tent sheets. “I’ll finish my rounds, maybe see if I can find anything for dinner.”

“Or more honey.”

An unfiltered chuckled slipped from his lips, “Or more honey.” He rose, still not looking directly at you. “Get some rest.” And with that, he was gone, lowering the tent flap to allow a bit more shade for your respite.

You nestled into the blanket, the same one you had designs to make your own; so far, those designs seemed to moving along nicely.

***

You awoke hours later, according to the sun’s placement: just before noon. There was no sign of your campmate. Your leg had rested long enough, you thought, easing your way up and off the cot. Peering out between the tent panels, you looked for any sign of him; still, nothing. After asking the cub and Scratch, you’d found he had not returned. The patrols weren’t short trips, but three hours? Odd. Scowling at the tree line, you heard movement far off; rhythmic movement, like walking. There was no way to tell yet if it was Halsin or someone you were less interested in meeting. Glad I centered myself this morning. You tuned yourself to your Rothe shape, grinding your right leg into the dirt, testing for any lingering ache. You gathered it was fully healed as your wild shape remained prepared; the idea of a fight brought you an odd sense of satisfaction.

*Rustle* *SnAp* *sNap*

An audible stumble followed.

This didn’t sound like an invader. You remained waiting, still crouched behind the corner of the tent.

A large hand pushed back the concealing, low-hanging bough: Halsin’s hand. He carried an unfamiliar satchel and strode the few yards between you slower and less adamantly than you were used to.

“Did something happen?”

“Yes, but not something, a few someone’s.” With one hand, he moved a log that lay between him and camp. “Not to worry, they’ve been dispatched. They did, however, have a few sundry items I think our camp may appreciate.”

“Oh! Well that’s a nice surprise. We don’t usually get very good loot.”

“Not often, no,” he agreed, stopping at the edge of camp to meet you. “Did you rest well enough?”

You would have answered if you hadn’t seen the oozing gash on his face and cuts on his arm.

“What kind of fight was it?” Visually taking the injuries in. A few more on his other arm, one looked like an arrow had grazed him.

“A few thieves looking for easy prey. They judged poorly. Nothing to concern yourself with,” he answered mildly and he pressed forward to the center of camp.

“Halsin, those don’t look great.”

“I’m alright.” He unpacked the thieves’ satchel, piling food into the communal basket.

“Halsin. Stop what you’re doing.” You mimicked a paralyzing glare as best you could, and pointed to the tent at your right. “Tent.”

—

I hope I hear that again under different circumstances, He thought, admiring Tav’s steely portrayal of authority..

—

“Stubborn bear,” you murmured as you followed him to the cot. “Sit down and let me take a look.” The height difference between the two of you seemed even more prominent now that you tried to assert some level of power over the situation. A crooked smile as he looked down at you, “Yes, little healer,” eyes never leaving yours as he sunk down to the edge of the cot.

“Thank you,” as curt as possible, with a tinge of concern in your voice.

You took in the wound on his face, still bleeding. There is no way this doesn’t hurt like the hells. A clean cut, but deep. Another two on his left upper arm, more superficial, and that arrow graze on his right forearm. Now it was you rifling through the medical pack, looking for something to clean with. The clotting had started and you needed a clearer view. “How many were there?”

“A few.”

“Halsin.”

He maintained his bemused gaze. “Eight.”

Eight? “Eight what?”

“Thieves, I told you, little one.”

“Eight gnomes? Eight gnolls? Eight what?” Depending on their faction, you may have had to worry about poison on their blades.

“Just men, maybe a few half-orcs. Nothing likely to have exotic coatings on their weapons,” He looked passed you as you cleaned the facial laceration. Alright, so he’s thinking the same thing. Holy hells, that sounds bad, though.

“Eight men and half-orcs? And you just—you just fought them off.”

“Not exactly, they had laid an embarrassingly well-concealed trap. I was dangling from a treetop for a bit, there.”

Your hand paused. Then resumed.

“The netting was weak and did nothing for a cave bear,” he grinned slightly, wincing at the pain the smiled caused. “By that point, they’d heard the alarms attached to the trap and came running. I found higher ground and held it. Easily dispatched.” He concluded as if talking about what dish he’d planned for that evening.

You were speechless for a moment. There was no chastising him, what could he have done differently? There was no comforting him since he seemed fairly ambivalent if not proud of the outcome. “I’m glad this is all you sustained,” a quiet relief in your voice.

His eyes met yours, “As am I, dear one.”

I could easily kiss him right now, maybe see if he moves the same way as that dream, your mind wandered, so you asked about the scar he already had next to the one you hoped wouldn’t form.

He looked past you again, recollecting. “Ah, that, well, sometimes Nature forgets I am not wed to it, and needs reminding.” He shifted in the cot slightly, then looked at you, seeming to think you’d understand.

Confused and almost done cleaning the rust-colored flakes from his left temple, “Needs reminding of what?”

“Well, ha,” he stumbled over his words, self-consciously. “I didn’t exactly pick this scar up in battle. I was in wildshape, only I forgot it was the season when bears are…particularly social,” he mentioned, modestly. “A she-bear claimed me as her own, and did not appreciate being spurned,” almost a chuckle.

“…Oh, I—I see…” you stammered, as you examined the cut, unsure what to say in response. Now who’s self-conscious. You realized that up until that point, neither of you had mentioned actions akin to being “particularly social”. “Does it still hurt at times?”

“Not for many years. The last it felt tender was probably before you were born.”

A smirk at his assumption and subtle fishing since you had yet to mention your age. “I’m 62, Halsin.” You judged that the wound would heal easily with a magic touch.

He hesitated. “…Really? Unexpected. I suppose you would have been a youth, then,” he stated, making his head bob yet again.

“I suppose so… Now hold still,” you told him, one hand beginning to glow near his left temple while the other gently but firmly held his chin steady. You could feel his face pull into suppressed smile. Beneath your illuminated palm, the skin stitched back together, just like it had done hundreds of other times. “There, good as new,” you said, gently rubbing a thumb over where the cut had disappeared.

“Ha, it’s strange being treated instead of treating. I’m usually where you are.”

“Well, then, perhaps you’ve had this coming for a long time.”

His head leaned almost imperceptibly into your palm.

“Thank you, Tav.” His eyes rose to yours, “You’re not a bad healer yourself.” The compliment was minor, but the look in his eyes…

The look made gravity shift.

“I try,” a humble response with a humbler smile. You realized your other hand was still holding his chin. You used it to pat him on his shoulder. “Do you need help with the others?” You turned to the supply bag, pretending to look for more supplies to clean the wounds with. His arms were resting on his lap, propping him up. You hoped he would accept just so you had an excuse to let him see you on your knees in front of him. I’m just torturing myself, by this point.

A deep inhale as he examined the remaining scratches, beginning to treat the wounds himself as easily as flicking away drops of mud. “You’re too kind. I’ve had much worse, trust me. Thank you, however.” There was the wall again. You could sense the tension dissipate immediately, like a torch being thrown into a pond.

“Of course…old bear,” you shot with a smirk, still rummaging through the satchel.

—

His face shot left, up towards Tav’s, a quirk of a grin. He looked forward again, setting his jaw and standing up as if about to take his leave. With his left hand, he grabbed the back of her tunic, lifted the half-elf up a few inches and tossed her on the recently evacuated cot, smiling to himself as he left the tent.

Old bear. Not that old, he thought with a scoff.

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