#It belongs to both Justice and Blue

[ricksoo]

So uh

Kinda got carried away with other blogger's m2 template so...

Ye.

So anyways...

Which version of template is more intimidating lol

Left mewtwo template by @pokemon-ash-aus (tank you)

Right mewtwo template by @blues-sues (tank you too)

I might've tampered the template by a slight bit... hope you both don't mind. ^^'

And I refuse to explain who this two is 🥲

Add this in cuz why not

This one belongs to @kantaroth

Now,

Out of all 3 of em,

Which template is the most intimidating?

[dcxdpdabbles]

Red Yummy

Based on the post by @spacedace. Basically it's a joke that Red Robin (the restaurant with the little jingle: Reeed Robin: Yummm.) Isn't a thing in the DC world but is one in the Phantom world.

The rip in the multiverse was an issue the Justice League was not at all prepared for. Sure they had incidents where visitors from an alternate universe have crossed over to their side or they have gone to one. There are times when they meet doubles of themselves, both as allies and as enemies.

They have been to different Earths, with different histories, different countries, and that one particular time, even different beings that ruled the planet.

It's always been an adventure where at the end of it, the doorway to both worlds is sealed shut, with little or no chance of it opening again. The friends they made. The sights they saw. All gone. Fine. Over.

That was, until a villain from a different world, attempted to attack Clockwork's Tower. The Justice League was not aware of Clockwork- Master of Time, Weaver of Realms, The Concept of Between- but they noticed that he had been attacked when other worlds started spilling into theirs.

People were falling through glowing green portals, stumbling into buildings that weren't there before. People who were just going out for walks would be zapped away and replaced with their confused counterparts.

Parts of the sky glitch into others, replacing the soft blue with brown or black, little patches scattering around the world. Cities vanish for a few hours, sometimes replaced by others sometimes not, and animals never before seen running amok.

It was a mess.

The League did everything it could to help, but it was hard to stretch their reach to the help then world when all reality was being thrown into a mixer and set on chaos.

A lot like busted pipes, the Leaugers would run to cover a leaking pipe only to have the water build up in another and burst there and then scramble to cover that one before the rising water drowned them all.

Thankfully the Justice League Dark was able to use magic and find the source of the leak. The Infinite Realms known as the web that linked all universes, are usually only accessible by the dead, or in Constantine's case having friends in high places.

"Ghost Writer owes me a favor," Constantine said while the rest of the Leauge watched a flouting green book descend from the sky. It flipped open, expanding into a gateway. The smoke of the book curled into little missy hearts.

"Ghost Writer?" Zatanna gawked "How did you get such a powerful, and notoriously recluse, being to owe you anything?"

"Let's just say, we both appreciate the finer things in life and that ghost has a rather fine ass" Constantine leered. No one had asked for any more detail, although Zatanna had the expression of someone who had bitten something sour the whole time.

Ghost Writer had given Constantine a warning that his power would only be able to protect five living souls. Any more would be at the mercy of the Infinite Realms'.

Humans that wandered into the Realms were more often than not driven into madness, became hopelessly lost, or had their souls swindled by beings that dwelled there. Not that it wasn't surprising.

After all, the living did not belong there, so of course they were a danger to the Realms' structure. Hell, there were rumors that a living being could produce fresh uncorrupted ectoplasm when killed or even kept like livestock.

Constantine did not want to find out if the rumors had any truth to them.

To be able to travel safely they had to fall under a powerful ghost's protection and Ghost Writers let them know to pick their five best.

It was decided that Constantine would go as their expert, Batman as their strategist, Wonder Woman as their diplomat and protection, Superman as second protection, and Zatanna as another magic user that could combat the dead.

The rest of the league remained, doing their best to hold their universe together as the team of five rushed off to put everything to right. It was agonizing not knowing what was happening or how the mission was going but they did what they could and placed their trust in the five.

Many of the Justice League didn't say it, but it was the remaining Bats that sort of kept everything afloat in their father's absence. Each one leads a group of young heroes, easily countering and controlling their self-appointed sectors of the world.

Nightwing and Titians.

Red Robin and Young Justice.

Red Hood and the Outlaws.

Oracle and the Birds of Prey

Robin and the Blades.

All five groups agree to use the Watch Tower as a central base to coordinate their defenses against the world falling apart. Trading information with each other quickly and efficiently, and using this new information to prepare for more ripples of universes, showcasing that Batman had taught them well.

Following their example, the rest of the Justice League did what they could to minimize the damage. It was on the second day of constant relief efforts that everything was snapped back to normal.

A giant wave of sound- the noise sounding a lot like a grandfather clock strick repeating over and over again- as things that were not meant to be in their world vanished and their own people and things returned.

The shy's patches were removed and the right color returned.

Even property damages that were caused by the incident were reversed as if reality falling apart was nothing but a dream. No wreckages to clean up, no people had gone missing, and best of all, no casualties had been taken.

The Leauge gathered around Ghost Writer's book watching it open as the five returned, cheering and screaming, giving them the proper hero's welcome. Then right behind their teammates, a second group followed through.

Three glowing figures, all dressed in the same black and white outfits, and a ship carrying four humans. Batman introduced them as the allies who helped defend Clockwork's Tower and keep the multi-universe from collapsing.

He did admit that just because it was no longer falling apart, it did not mean that the rip had been closed. In fact, it was the only thing left to do but it was proving to be difficult due to Clockwork himself not understanding why their world wasn't healing.

Clockwork couldn't leave the Realms for too long- if no one was there to keep Time running the same thing would happen all over again- but he did give them equipment that could in theory patch things up on their side.

They just needed someone who understood the equipment.

Team Phantom, led by Danny Phantom, one of the flowing figures was happy to volunteer. They would be staying for three years, to strengthen and rebuild their Universe structure.

Team Phantom consisted of Dan Phantom, Danielle Phantom, Jasmin Fenton, Tucker Foley, Samantha Manson, and Westley Weston. All young, kind, strong- Batman vouched for the non-powered members claiming they could go toe to toe with his kids- and all much to the joy of many young heroes- attractive. They played an essential role on the team, doing whatever their people and kind did to help Clockwork, staying out of the League's way.

They all seemed happy to live as close to civilians as possible and despite their strength and combat training, Team Phantom was more like a research party instead of a hero.

Since they would be there for three years- more depending on the Speed Force's effect on the timeline grumbles Tucker- the seven had chosen to set down some roots within their dimension.

The three Phantoms needed Ectoplasim to live- a rare substance in the Justice League's universe- so they chose Gotham as their new home. Batman was more than willing to allow them into his city, as long as they knew not to interfere with his work.

Things settled, The Justice League moved on to other missions and other issues while Team Phantom ran tests, gathered information, and worked on the timeline.

The only real issue Bruce had with Team Phantom, was that a majority of his kids were romanticly interested in them.

Dick's love-struck sigh, whenever Dan wandered by, would often lead to useless backflips in an ill-fated attempt to impress him.

Jason would conventionally be lifting weights shirtless whenever Jazz came by with an update report. Then he would mention some novel or other that had the girl's attention far better than his abs.

Steph had taken a very large interest in gardening and at the same time, started wearing shorter shorts and tighter tops because Sam seemed to adore flowers.

Cass meanwhile found every excuse there was to be dressed in the prettiest dresses she owned whenever Wes was anywhere near her. She even wore light makeup- a real sign of how much she was interested in the conspiracy theorist.

Duke seemed over the moon whenever Tucker asked for his personal help on anything technical-related. It did his son wonders that someone thought of him first when it came to tech- Duke has always been a bit self-conscious of his place among geniuses- would be all but speaking in poems to the bemused teenager.

Damian's crush on Ellie did melt Bruce's heart a little. It was his baby's first after all, but he wasn't sure if Damian's approach was doing anything. Put him on the battlefield and Damian could lead to victory. Put him next to a pretty young girl and all his son was capable of doing was stare and babble.

The only one that didn't seem to have a crush on Team Phantom was Tim. Which should have given him reassurance except for the small little detail.

"Red Robin" Danny sings upon Tim's arrival at the cave. Officially tonight they are all going over the results of the latest tests on the universe's structure. Unofficially Team Phantom had been invited over for dinner by Alfred and they were looking over the Batcave as their butler finished preparing the main course.

At once every member of Team Phantom raises their head, turning away from his love-struck children to his flustered son and singing "Yum" with wide smiles.

Tim's face goes bright red.

Apparently, Tim was their universe version of Adonis and Team Phantom had no issue with expressing how yummy they found Tim. Now Bruce isn't saying that he would be against Tim having more than one romantic partner- he has made sure to look up proper healthy poly relationships and given Tim a PowerPoint version of it.

It's just that he isn't sure how he's going to handle supporting one of his children while breaking the heart of another. Tim seems unsure how to handle so much romantic attention- he's had plenty of relationships before- but said attention is picking him before any of his siblings is a first.

Bruce knows that deep down Tim still struggles with thinking he's not as good as the others. That he really is just a placeholder in the long run.

Then there is the fact he isn't sure how their culture works. Is the singing like a mating call? Was there a chance they would earn the irk of Clockwork himself if Tim accidentally accepted their advances? Why was it always Red Robin and not just Tim himself that made Team Phantom go yummmm?

"Hi guys" Tim greets at least and Danny grins wider.

"Reeeeed Robbbbbin" " The ghost boy says throwing an arm over Tim's shoulders. Sam and Tucker surround them, making their voices sound strange as all three start singing, rocking Tim back and forth in a strange little dance.

"Yummmmm!"

From the corner of his eyes, Bruce makes out Dick's protective Older Brother's face, as his eldest starts marching towards the group with the intent of breaking them apart. He's been very vocal about putting an end to Team Phantom's flirtations if he saw so much as a hint of Tim's unease.

Except that Tim looked utterly bliss being pressed up against Danny. Maybe he should rethink Tim's disinterest in Team Phantom. The rest of his children looked murderous as more members of Team Phantom gathered around Tim also singing.

Bruce had to deal with this for three whole years. He can physically feel his hair turning greyer.

[gojoidyll]

Imagine taking Katheryne's place for the day in Liyue, and when the traveler comes by for a new commission they are surprised to see you. You, on the other hand, aren't surprised to see them as you expected for them to come by. However, what you didn't expect was to see someone who doesn't belong.

He was clad in expensive looking attire, the contrast of blues and whites matching perfectly with his pale complexion and long silver hair. His eyes were mesmerizing too. They reminded you much of your dear friend Zhongli's eyes despite the major difference in color.

"Oh, y/n, we didn't expect to see you here today! Where's Katheryne?"

"Hello Paimon, Traveler, Katheryne is out for the day and a new commission popped up asking for anyone who was free to take her place. The mora is good, so I decided to take up the job since I don't have anything else to do."

"Oohhh, that makes sense," Paimon answered.

You smiled before directing your attention to their tall friend, "may I ask who this is?"

"This Neuvillette," Paimon introduced with an air of arrogance in her voice, "he's the chief justice of Fontaine! Pretty cool, huh?"

You bowed to Neuvillette, "it's nice to meet you sir."

"No, the pleasure is mine... your name is y/n, correct? The traveler and Paimon talk a lot about you. They were actually saying how they wanted me to meet you at some point."

Before you could say anything, you felt a tug on your sleeve, "miss y/n, your shift is over."

Nodding you turn back to the three before you, "well, as you can tell, since I'm done working for the day, why don't I tag along? That is, if it's alright."

Meeting Neuvillette was definitely interesting. He was both kind and courteous. A true gentleman. Not to mention that you quite like how he spoke to you. His voice was nice, smooth, and definitely easy on the ears. And just as he liked talking about Fontaine, he also liked listening to you.

Most of the time when you hung out with the traveler and Paimon, Paimon was usually the one who dominated the conversation (not that you minded, you weren't much of a talker to begin with), so being the center of attention in a conversation for once definitely made you nervous. Especially when such a handsome and refined man was giving such a attention.

And later you would fail to notice how Paimon and the traveler would give each other a high-five before leaving both you and Neuvillette to talk amongst yourselves. Neuvillette noticed, however, but decided to not say anything.

"You know Miss y/n," Neuvillette started but you gently cut him off, "y/n is fine."

"Y/n," he amended with a smile, "I've actually been quite the fan of yours for some time. And truthfully, it was I who asked the traveler to meet you."

As it turns out, you were actually a performer of sorts. Your voice was something that everyone could admire for hours on end. But at some point you decided to take a break. The life of an adventurer too good to pass up. (You did promise yourself to sing again someday, but for now, you were on a ... vacation of sorts.)

"You- you're a fan of mine?"

"Yes, I always enjoyed your performances when you would grace Fontaine with your voice. And when I heard you had went on break, I honestly thought I wouldn't be able to hear you again."

Your face felt hot all of sudden, it wasn't everyday that such a gorgeous man showered you in such praises. You felt him grab your hand as he stopped walking to look at you.

"Y/n, I-"

"Am i interrupting something?"

You looked to see who it was and immediately broke out into a bright smile, "Mr. Zhongli!"

You gently let go of Neuvillette's hand before walking up to your friend to give him a hug, "I haven't seen you in awhile! Where on Teyvat have you been?"

"Just traveling my dear, nothing to worry about."

As you pulled away to introduce Zhongli to Neuvillette, you didn't notice how the air got thicker and the area more tense than what it was.

Oh, and did I forget to mention that you didn't know that Zhongli is actually the geo Archon? Yeah...

Having two dragons fight over you is quite nice, though.

[sp0-t]

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋

PoliceForce!141 x VictimsPartner!Reader

warnings - murder(er), descriptions of a crime scene, blood, not really gore, loss of a loved one.

summary - the investigation of an arising serial killer has every civilian on their toes, however it has a whole police precinct in even more of an erratic frenzy. The police force assigned to the job get the call that yet another body has been found, most likely another victim of the recent killer. The body count is high, but the tensions are even higher…

💿 (a/n) - it’s finally here!! Long awaited first post of this most likely very long ongoing series. The reader doesn’t really come out in this part but bear with me they will be out in the next! I hope you will stick around for future parts and other works in general. If you’re new to my page or this story in general, Hi! Welcome! If you’ve been following along with my updates and my page, thank you for sticking around! And I look forward to seeing you! Most importantly I hope you all enjoy and stick around some more!

prologue/ ➤ part one / part ???

2… 3… 5… 8…? How many would you leave this time, you didn’t know. You were on 10 now, how many did it take till you got bored of this one too? This one wasn’t as fun, this one didn’t put up a fight, this one took all the fun out of it. It was too easy honestly, it made you bored, easily. You stopped yourself at 23, sighing as you stood up.

You walked over to the trash can lazily taking off your gloves, making sure to engulf the knife in both gloves before begrudgingly tossing it into the tiny metal tin trash can. The metal bang rang through the small office space as you walked to the door. You pull out a cloth from your pocket before turning the doorknob and heading out the door.

“What was his name again?”

The sound of stretching as he pulls the blue latex gloves over his hands quickly dissipates while approaching the house's front door.

“Darren Boyle, he’s some rich big-time director of a construction company.”

“…Is there a reason you’re telling me this man’s finances?”

“Yeah, actually…”

The EMT halts her walking and hands the report to him

“Nothing was taken from the home, no money, no belongings, nothing.”

He takes the report and looks it over.

“Yet he still has 23 knife wounds all over his body”

The walk to the office space was short and brief, with multiple people at the crime scene, and multiple things happening all at once. The flash of the camera, the sound of plastic evidence bags, and the smell… that smell, that concoction of iron and decay that permanently scars the nose with its presence alone.

The rest of the force was already present at the scene littered around, each doing different tasks.

Officer Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, is probably the smartest in the entire county. From someone who started as a mere medical student, that ended up not being able to bear the weight of being the cause of a lost human life, went to become someone who brought “life” and justice to the lost and their families. He is the forensics specialist of the team, offering his smarts and intuition to the force. Gaz can pronounce the cause of death by a simple examination of the body, as well as match DNA evidence to a perpetrator, blood, fingerprints, spit, etc.

Officer Johnny “Soap” McTavish, investigator as well as one of the best interrogators, right behind Officer Riley. Soap used to be a big-time private investigator sometimes, often, closing cases faster than the police department itself. This eventually led to the police department trying to recruit, and find, Soap to their forces for his high investigator talent, which landed him with the force, after a very eventful high-speed chase…

Officer Simon “Ghost” Riley, aka. death reincarnated. Was discovered from his time as a mercenary, and would finish any job no matter the morals or ethics involved. The blood from his past haunted him, when he retired from his brutal position, he discovered his now-current sheriff. Who heard his story and convinced Ghost to come out of his early retirement and become a detective. Ghost took this offensively at first, seeing the offered position as some type of “downgrade”. He ended up convinced into the position and is now one of the most well-known detectives in the nation.

That leaves the sheriff…

“Sheriff Price. It’s been a while, although I’d prefer if we didn’t have to meet under these circumstances.”

“Laswell, always good to see a familiar face. Although I'd have to agree, these circumstances aren't exactly.. ideal.”

“A killer in your part of the city. A serial.. killer.”

She says the last part while narrowing her eyes behind her shoulder at the now dead body

“So”

She says with her head still facing the body

“Whats your plan.”

It wasn’t a question.. it was a demand

She turns her head, her frustrated look now landing on the sheriff.

“To catch this prick.”

They both made heavy eye contact with each other. Trying to square up the other with their looks alone, the tension rising. that is until they are interrupted

“Sheriff! You have to see this.”

A shout from Gaz, across the home office. Price’s attention immediately being stripped away from Laswell and reattaching to his officer

Gaz stands from his crouched position near the victim’s desk, the Sheriff joining his side to glance at what he had found. In Gaz’s hands was a piece of paper, one that had been splattered in blood, It wasn’t just paper, it was a note.

… a note for the Sheriff

written by: @sp0-t ©️

[lmk-oc-competition]

LMK OC COMPETITION - ROUND 1

click to see full image

Blossom belongs to @blossomnightshade

Xingyun belongs to @leyyearts (art credit: @morelegos4youu)

Learn more about them below the cut!

Blossom:

A long time ago, Siming, the goddess of balance, allowed one drop of moonlight to fall from the celestial sky, and the scarlet moonflower sprouted from this one drop of the red moon. The red and blue petals shimmer in the blood-red moonlight, both as a temptation and a warning to those who aspired to positions of authority that were well beyond their grasp.

Stories of the unusual flower's relationship to the celestial body above and its immense power for those who were willing to eat its petals began to circulate among the creatures. However, they were unaware of the high price they would have to pay for their desired road to invincibility, — as often as you’ll find in tales of this kind, this gift came with a cursed attached…A fate so hideous and jarring only to make sure that the peace and balance remained intact for the universe and their loved ones…

Given its incredible powers and rich history, the sacred blossom has been regarded as the most potent item in numerous realms. Many also knew that the Moon Drop might either lead to the universe's devastation and disaster or it may bring justice and prosperity to the rights of all people, thus whoever decided to become its new consumer would need to exercise caution. As a result, the moon drop was securely concealed and kept out of the hands of evil and darkness.

However, the flower was harvested in the following years, which led to the emergence of numerous demons and other bad entities that were hunting for the flower's next rebirth or, possibly, for the person who had eaten the moon drop's powers.

This story begins with none other than an innocent little child who went by the name, (Kāihuā) Blossom…

In her childhood, she and her father were being chased after many bad entities as the years passed on. Their runaway was much of a hassle and trouble, but it had never broke the love of the two Huli-Jings for each other.

Until one faithful night, Xiangliu had managed to to corner them to an edge of a cliff, just beneath the East Sea. Seeing no other choice, Blossom’s Father quickly threw his daughter into the Eastern sea to spare her as he fought Xiangliu to his last breathe.

Thankfully, Ao Lie and Ao Guang saved the drowning girl and bought her to the grand palace of the East Sea for shelter. I spent over a week with Ao lie in the Great Grand Palace. Of course, Blossom was grateful to have met so many wonderful and compassionate people in the palace after that save attempt. She had a lot of fun with my new friend, and she admired him for being such a kind brother figure.

However, even great things must come to an end. As arranged by Ao lie's uncle, Ao Guang, she was transported to the celestial bars of the Celestial Realm above. As the incarnation of the Moon drop, she gotten a lot of attention for their concerns up there.

Due to the worry and fear that she may become a threat as the Moondrop’s incarnation if she were to fully reach her full potential in the future in result of her traumatic and horrible past. The celestial court and the Jade Emperor came to an agreement - Blossom's prior memories include her upbringing, encounters with innumerable evil beings, bitter runaways, and, finally, her family. Blossom's memories were wiped clean, allowing her to create new ones in the Celestial Realm. She is completely unaware of her past issues and tragedy, as well as her loved ones.

Afterwards, Miss Chang'e and Princess Iron Fan, the Celestial Realm's other residents, and the heavenly minister raised the young Huli-Jing as their protector and guide. She does go to Ao Lie, her best buddy, frequently as well. She also has a very close bond to Redson, making them like siblings together. While she’s also been Nezha’s closes friend, since they were young, to the point that she’s also grew feelings for him.

Blossom used to frequently inquire about her past and her acknowledgement of her biological parents, but she quickly stopped talking about it after receiving the same justifications—that she was just like every other Huli-Jing in the realm and that her parents had just passed away before she had met them.

Blossom learned and grew up to be a calm and selfless skilled individual ,thanks to PIF’s determine and precise training. She's also shown to be a pure-hearted and honest individual with the guidance of her motherly loving guardian Chang’e. She may turned out clumsy and oblivious most of the time but she’s always there to lend a hand to everyone. She has undoubtedly mastered a small number of extremely strong skills such as: healing powers, crystal manipulation, shapeshifting between a few forms etc. Though, she is still oblivious to the bigger potential of her incredibly power…for now.

When she met the Monkie Gang, she turns out to be the most comforting sister/daughter-like figure to team. She prefers talking things over with her enemies and as tries to find a way to befriend and understand them better. So don’t let her soft-spoken and small figure fool you because if she witnesses any her loved ones being threatened, she won’t hesitate to reach to the breaking point where she appears to become intimidating and possibly become a living nightmare to you.

Xingyun:

She's a popstar skater

[beloved-calypso]

・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ゜𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙/𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘 ♡ ・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ゜‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡

♡"𝐼𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈; 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝒻𝒻𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝒶𝓃𝒸𝓉𝒾𝒻𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒾𝓉." — 𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓃 𝒩𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝐵𝑜𝓋𝑒𝑒♡

All pictures and gifs are not mine but belong to their original artists. ♡

I. -> II. -> III. -> IIII.

ɪꜰ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ꜰᴏʀ a ᴘɪᴄᴋ-ᴀ-ᴄᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛ��� ꜱᴇᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴘᴜᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ! ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ɪ ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴢᴇ ɪɴ ᴀᴅᴠᴀɴᴄᴇ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴀʀ ᴏʀ ᴘᴜɴᴄᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ. ᴇɴɢʟɪꜱʜ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ. ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱᴜᴄᴋ ᴀᴛ ɪᴛ.

~ XOXO 💋🎀

౿૮꒰ྀི pile 1 ๑◞꒱ა

[2 of Swords (rx), The Wheel of Fortune, The Moon, Ace of Cups (rx), The Star (rx)]

There's so much mental and emotional whiplash here! All this water energy has me feeling emotionally overwhelmed. Pile 1, I'm getting that your first/next kiss will come when you least expect it. I'm getting you feeling overwhelmed, and anxious when and before it happens, as if your brain is on overdrive, and you can't tell where things are headed, and you're super out of your element and dreading the possibilityof mucking up this moment. It's almost as if this kiss came from someone you would least expect. For some of you, I'm getting this is coming from your crush or someone who you suspected did not share the same feelings for you as you did them, and this kiss will surprise the heck out of you because they were the ones to initiate it. Others, this is someone you felt attraction towards, but thought was out of your league, so you tried your best to stifle your feelings and largely ignore them. Regardless of who you may be kissing, something about this kiss feels destined to you. The kiss itself will be very dreamy and soothing. You'll be in an overflow of emotions, almost like your heart will be full to bursting, but at the same time, the kiss will have this tranquilizing effect on you like you'll transition from this state of mental overload into this bed of calm. The kiss will be slow and thorough, maybe even wet for how much water energy is present. This kiss will likely occur at night, possibly near a body of water, and I'm strongly getting this feeling of isolation, as if both of you are alone together or are so in your private bubble everybody else is just a part of the background. I do sense that for some there is confusion left behind in this kiss, as if the people here, while having kissed, are not expressing their emotions outwardly but are giggling to themselves and smiling ear to ear like kids. What's left in the wake of this kiss is a want for something more, a hope for a lasting relationship. You'll be glowing from the inside out, but also feeling this loss of direction, as if you're left wondering, what's next?

(On the negative sidenote) For others, I did feel some dissapointment, as if the kiss itself didn't quite raise that spark you expected it to even if it came from the desired person, and this felt like a wish yet unfulfilled.)

Water. Night. Hopeful. Pisces. Smooth. Black hair. Healing. Serene. Anxious. Gentle. Pinning. Melancholic. Stars. Sudden. Secret. First love/crush. Silver. Blue. White. Fountain. Bright moon. Glitter. Party. Winter, Summer. Disappointment. Hope.

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

౿૮꒰ྀི pile 2 ๑◞꒱ა

[The Devil, The Hermit (rx), 5 of Cups (rx), King of Cups, Justice]

Oo pile 2, the devil card tells me that your next kiss is a spicy one! There's definitely a strong, mutual attraction here between you and your partner. I'm getting that this kiss will be a very lustful one, a mix of wetness and eagerness. It will last for a while. This will be a makeout, not just a lip peck. It will raise some pretty intense feelings between the two of you and leave you both quite aroused, maybe even motivating ya'll to take things further. If you were shy beforehand, this kiss will push you to come out of your shell and you'll feel comfortable enough just letting loose and following your passionate urges. The kiss will have some force, maybe some lip biting. A little bit of tongue but it's mostly like ya'll can't get enough and your just sucking the breath out of each other. You'll feel free from any insecurities or blockages that may try to overwhelm you. This person your kissing could be a water or air sign, I'm getting Pisces, Scorpio, Libra and Aquarius. I feel like this kiss will mark a milestone in your relationship with you and your person. For most of you I feel you're already in a relationship and you're still in the first stages of it. If you've dealt with bad past relationships/situationships with other people, you'll feel motivated to leave the past behind and only look towards the future. It could also be that you've dealt with toxic/abusive partners or parents in the past, and this next person you kiss will be the one to initiate your healing journey. I feel this person will have lots of compassion towards you. They will be emotionally secure and protective over you. They will want to establish a future with you and offer commitment. Theyll be like your rock in a raging storm, always dependable and giving. Again, if you've had bad partners, this person will be the one to correct the wrongs in your past and show you how to love genuinely. Even if this is your first kiss, this person will dispel any negative energies you've been holding within yourself. I'm getting that this kiss will also happen at night. I'm seeing fireworks, so I think it'll occur around something celebratory. I'm seeing a grassy area with trees, maybe someone's backyard or a park, and it feels very warm.

Brown hair. Fireworks. 4th of July. Red. Pisces. Libra. Aquarius. White house. Healing. Justice. Hot. Sundress. Blue. Summer. June. July. Lustful. Childhood crush. Nervous. Guarded. Tears. 3rd base. Vampire Diaries. Clarity. Truth. Sparks flying. Starry skies.

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

౿૮꒰ྀི pile 3 ๑◞꒱ა

[7 of Pentacles, Ace of Wands, The Lovers, 4 of Swords, Knight of Wands]

Pile 3 your first kiss is going to be so romantic! There's so much passionate energy here! It could be that who your going to kiss next is someone who you've had your eye on for awhile. I get that you want to build a future with this person. I'm strongly getting for some that this could be someone from your childhood. It could also be that this person has been watching you for a while and has subtly made hints as to their feelings about you. With the Ace of wands, this kiss is going to be explosive. A good give and take energy, I'm getting somewhat sloppy, but only because both parties are so enthusiastic. I see ya'll embracing each other, just getting lost in the moment. The kiss will spark desire and lust. It will make your stomach overloaded with butterflies. It may have you seeing stars! Remember in Princess Diaries where Anne Hathaway did the famed leg lift upon kissing her prince charming? THAT is what I'm getting. And with the Knight of wands, this may very well be your prince charming. This person could be a fire sign, I'm getting Leo, Saggitarius, Aries energy. This person could be vibrant and youthful, someone who's very active in life and kind of a crowd pleaser. This kiss may occur in the daylight, specifically I'm getting sunset. It may occur somewhere outside among greenery like gardens or parks. I think after this kiss, ya'll will separate and take time to yourselves to put your head on straight and see where your relationship will go. I think your person is determined to make their way towards you and will offer you committment. For others I see this leading to a whirlwind romance, something that can be fleeting but fun and exciting, or something that's both those things but will last longerterm.

Fire signs. Flowers. First love. Distant crush. Union. Inspiring. Fairytale. Retreat. Passionate. Eager. Princess Diaries. Dreams. Stars. Wine. Romantic. Blue Sky's. Mountains. Sand. Head in the clouds. Countryside.

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧

౿૮꒰ྀི pile 4 ๑◞꒱ა

[8 of Wands, 6 of Wands, 6 of Cups, Ace of Cups, 8 of Pentacles]

Pile 4 this kiss is going to come when you least expect it. I'm strongly getting it's going to come from someone in your past, or someone you used to date will be coming back and trying to win you over. When the kiss does happen it will happen rapidly I don't see it being a full makeout session, but it will definitely leave you starstruck. There's wetness and tongue; sweetness and tenderness. I think the kiss will feel familiar, like the sounds, scents, smells, or touching reminds you of the past and you'llbe hit with a wave of nostalgia and comfort. I think you'll feel celebratory, almost an ontop-of-the-world type of energy. If you're typically guarded and hard to impress, you'll be fulling all gushy and warm. Your going to be in an overflow of emotional satisfaction. It may even be a love at first kiss! It may come when your leaving home and asserting your independence. Could also just be that your moving. For the ones that have this kiss coming from a past partner, this may be the point where you reignite your love again. You both will be willing to put forth the effort of building your relationship again. I think the kiss will happen in the daylight, somewhere public, not to where everyone's watching you kiss but there's people around. Could be at a party, your workplace, or near a body of water. Lots of variety in this pile, lol. The person could be a Pisces (lots of Pisces in this pac), Leo, Taurus or Aquarius, mostly fixed signs. Sorry if this pile seemed shorter than the others, but this pile is so cute! Definitely boy/girl next door energy.

Childhood. Work crush. Fairies. Lake. Past love. New love. Building. Party. Tender. Candy. Nostalgia. Winter. Spring. Younger. Picnics. New relationship. Charming. Shops. Trees. High school. White picket fence.

⊱┈───── ✧

ᴀɴʏ ᴄʀɪᴛɪᴄɪꜱᴍꜱ ᴏʀ ꜰᴇᴇᴅʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ. ɪ'ᴍ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙʟᴏɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴍ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ. ♡

ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ

© lolita-bonita — Please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other social media platforms without my permission. This is the only platform on that I post this type of content. If you see my work being posted anywhere else, please kindly report them to me. ♡

⊱┈───── ✧

✨️ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Tarot is not an exact science, nor can it produce information that is factually true. All things posted are alleged and for entertainment purposes only. The future is fluid, and what may happen is based on your choices, not what I and a deck of cards say. ✨️

[mendessi]

I see you haven't been active in a while but I'm asking a million people if you could please write a Javi Pena fic where the reader gets injured while they're on a job and he like feels something is wrong or something like that thanks

bambi | javier peña

pairing: javier peña x fem!reader

summary: you assist peña and carillo in tulo to bring gacha down but end up getting hit before the job is finished

word count: 4.4k

warnings: canon-typical violence, season 1 narcos spoilers (go watch it already wyd), kind of established relationship already, angst?, mention of death (reader does not die), tender!javi, maybe more am not sure yet, there is def a little backstory before jumping into the main part

minors dni

You had been in Colombia for almost two years and had fought your way into the position you were in. Tooth and nail, one might add. Being a woman in this line of work, in this day and age was not easy in the slightest bit. You busted your ass in school and in training just to earn a spot in the DEA, even harder to get the approval to be sent to Colombia. Even with your father having a higher up position in the DOJ, it still wasn't easy and you didn't expect it to be.

The introduction of narcotics into the United States wasn't easy on you considering one of your closest childhood friends had overdosed on their birthday trip to Miami that you were on. There was no indication that she had even consumed any drugs let alone enough to OD on, but it happened anyways and when you found her the next morning it destroyed nearly everything in you.

You were always destined to work for the Department of Justice, but something in you shifted after the death of your friend. Once the war on drugs had been declared you knew exactly where you needed to be.

Your bags were packed within an hour of receiving the call of your relocation assignment and exactly twenty four hours later you were on a flight to Bogota, Colombia to meet your new bosses at the embassy.

There was barely any time for you to set your bags down before you were asked to meet Noonan at the embassy. You weren't set to begin work for another week so you could officially move to Medellín and settle down, but there were a few papers you needed to sign to solidify your acceptance of the job.

He remembers it clear as day, the second he saw you walking into the embassy. Hair tied into a ponytail, curly pieces framing your face sweetly. A powder blue button up was tied into a knot paired with light wash jeans that weren't too tight, but were just the right amount of loose, white sneakers on your feet. His eyes followed your every step as you shook Noonan's hand outside her office door, the smile on your face brightening the room. His stomach twisted at the thought of someone like you in the war torn country you were in, wondering what even brought you here in the first place. You looked out of place, like you didn't belong here and that made him nervous. As he watched you disappear behind the ambassador's door, he decided quickly that you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life.

About thirty minutes later, Noonan was at his desk with you by his side. He and Steve both rose from their seats at the sudden presence of the ambassador and the short guest standing next to her.

"Boys, this is your new partner. She'll join you next week in Medellín until further notice." Noonan said before turning on her heel and leaving you there standing in front of the two men that towered over you.

You had heard plenty about them and their work thus far into the hunt for Pablo Escobar and always admired their bravery for what they do.

"Right, hello. Steve." He held his hand out to you and Javier did the same, his name coming out more as a mumble.

"Sorry?" You asked.

"Javier. Peña." He repeated a bit louder and shook your hand, your name barely making it to his ears because how focused he was on taking in all of your facial features.

"I look forward to working with you both. I have to get to Medellín but, I'll see you guys next week." You spared yourself the awkward small talk and removed yourself from the situation. You could tell they were just like any other male in this line of work that were immediately doubting you upon first impressions.

What they didn't know was that you were top of your class at Quantico and could take down a man that was three times your size. You were used to people doubting you and didn't expect this to be any different.

Steve and Javier both were sharing the same thoughts and that was how someone your size could've been approved to join the DEA in Colombia. They kept that to themselves til after you had left the building.

"She's gonna get torn apart." Steve sighed gathering his things. He and Javi were only meant to be in Bogota for the day for a briefing before heading back to Medellín.

About 30 miles from home, they came across you standing on the side of the road, blood drenching your clothes and splattered across your face and your government loaned car completely totaled. The tires screeched as Javi pulled off the road behind you, he and Steve out of the car in seconds with their guns in their hands.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" Javi asked, reaching a hand out to you. "Is there anyone near? Who did this?"

You were in tears, barely able to speak as Steve slowly moved around the vehicle a wave of relief washing over him when he saw the deer plunged through the windshield of your car.

"I'm sorry- I'm not- I don't ever cry like this, I swear. I'm jet lagged and covered in-" You barely could finish the sentence you just let out a frustrated groan.

"Javi," Steve called him over and he hesitated before stepping around you.

"Deer." Javi said before walking back towards you. He rested his hands on your shoulders and made you look at him, "Are you hurt?"

"No, it's his blood not mine. Fucking disgusting." You sighed, almost gagging at the sticky feeling of it drying to your skin. He almost smiled at the bad word leaving your lips, almost as if it didn't belong there.

"Here's what we'll do. We'll get your things, you can ride with us and we'll sort out the vehicle situation tomorrow." Steve said to you.

"I have a shirt in the car you can change into. It'll do til we get to your place." Javi said.

You sat in the back seat on the ride home after the boys loaded your belongings into the trunk and resumed the drive home, Javier's sweatshirt engulfing you. They weren't thinking it, but being so used to having to defend your every action to get to where you are now you felt the need to say it.

"I'm not like this usually. It's just been a rough first day." You fiddled with the sleeves of the sweater that Javier had lent you.

"You don't have to explain anything to us." Javier said.

"I do, though." Your replied in a small voice, loud enough for them to both hear and they understood it. You wanted to feel inferior to them, your two new coworkers seeing you so vulnerable before you first official day, but you knew better. They brought your things into your apartment for you once arriving and you thanked them one more time before they were gone.

When you went in on your first day, brand new desk was pushed against the two that were so used to being a duo. You even already had a nickname. You went through stacks and stacks of files catching up on the details of the hunt so far and listening to Javier and Steve tell you stories of what they'd been through so far.

Javier was slowly becoming obsessed with the way you gave whoever you were speaking to your undivided attention, how your eyebrows furrowed in concentration or even how you used your pointer finger to scan the lines of a file. The tiniest things you did were intoxicating to him and he hated it. You caught him staring at you a few times and figured he was just once again, doubting your right to be sat at that desk.

The boys both became obsessed with you in their own way. Steve obsessed with the way you carried yourself in the field. You took charge and never took any ounce of shit from any man that would look down on you. He learned quickly that you were not one to be messed with. Javier was just obsessed.

Obsessed with how your hair framed your face, how you quite literally would stop and smell the flowers while on a job, how you said his name, or how he sometimes caught you stealing glances at him from your desk that was right next to his. How your hand looked as you scribbled down notes from the day, or how you sounded when speaking over the walkies, the look on your face when you were connecting dots. He obsessed over he way you laughed at the things he said and got jealous when you'd laugh at something Steve said. He loved how easily you fell into place between him and his partner Steve, like the two of them were missing you the entire time. He loved how quickly you picked up Spanish as a second language and how intelligent you were. How you embraced to culture of Colombia as your own and were able to so easily connect with the residents of Medellín. He was obsessed with your smile, your hands, the way your waist curved, he was fucking obsessed with the way you smelled. Even after sprinting across rooftops, he still loved your scent, it's like nothing to him about you was not worth obsessing over.

It was almost your one year anniversary of moving to Colombia when he kissed you for the first time. He drove you home after a long day at the office since your car was in the shop and was nice enough to walk you to the door. You knew he was into you, he was the worst at hiding it, even Steve would tell him to which Javier would reply, "I'm not into her and even if I was, I'm smooth, okay? She'd never know."

You did know. And you were into him too, but you wanted him to make the first move. He was so caught up with his informants half the time you didn't know if that would ever happen, so whenever he was ready, you'd be there. It irked you to say the least, that somebody else was getting those parts of him but there was nothing you could do.

But that night you two stood outside your front door, talking about your childhood homes and what you loved most about them, you dangling the keys between your fingers as he leaned against the frame and kissed you. His fingers were soft against your cheek and his lips sweet against yours and you didn't know he could be so gentle. You'd seen him kill people before yet here was kissing you as if you'd break under his touch.

"Good night, Javi." You said to him, as you stood on your tiptoes for one last kiss before disappearing into your home, the biggest smile on your face.

Your relationship was what some would call a slow burn. You took things slow, mostly because between the war on drugs neither of you had time to focus on and nurture a relationship. So you remained best friends and coworkers, alongside Steve who sometimes felt like a third wheel. When the two of you did finally find some spare time, things blossomed so quickly and beautifully and the man was head over heels. Steve had a hard time believing it, but he always knew that once Javi found the right one, he'd be 150% all in. Steve loved that it was you that brought out that side of him.

"Bambi, we're rolling out." Carillo said to you. Hearing the nickname is nothing new after all these years, but it still almost makes you laugh sometimes. Who knew having a deer sprint in front of you on your first day in Colombia would get you a call sign that stuck with you for the rest of your career.

"Yes sir." You nodded and stood up from your desk and gathered your things.

"No, no, you're not coming." Javier said.

"Excuse me?" There were very few things Javi did that pissed you off, but the one that did it most was when he tried keeping you from certain jobs.

"This is gonna get ugly and I don't want you there." He rested his hand on your elbow gently.

"You don't get to make that decision. I'm going and I'm monitoring the Search Bloc. This is the one thing I ask you not to do." You lowered your voice, looking up at him.

"And I don't do ever do this, but I don't like the feeling of this." He lowered his tone to match yours. "Por favor, mi sol." (Please, my sun.)

"Javier, don't ask me again." You pulled away from him and followed behind Carillo as you and the rest of the Search Bloc loaded into vehicles and began the journey to Tolú. He knew there was nothing he could say once you called him by his full name.

You and Javi barely spoke the entire ride to Tolú and it should be known that it was a long drive from Medellín. Even though you sat in silence, he still rested his hand on your leg, his thumb rubbing circles onto the fabric of your jeans.

When you stepped out of the vehicles upon your arrival you watched and counted the men that loaded into boats to cross the bay. The plan was to catch them from a direction they wouldn't expect. Javi was going with the aerial team which meant you were splitting up.

"Hey," he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to him. "Be careful."

"You too."

He would've said the right words if he knew what would happen once you parted ways. He would've said them a long time ago if he had known. He knew it in his gut as he watched you walk away and board the boat alongside Carillo and yet he still let you go. He should've kissed you one more time. It wasn't his right to stop you from going on a job and he knew that. He let you go because of those words that he didn't say.

You and the rest of the Search Bloc trekked through the sand and the thick trees of the jungle quietly, nobody speaking a sound, guns up and ready to fire. You surely looked out of place being the only woman amongst them. A few inches larger and the gun you were holding would've been too big for you to hold comfortably.

You came across two men and the gun fire started almost immediately. This was something you were used to and certainly planned for long before you even landed in Colombia. You knew that once the first shots were fired that Gacha would try to flee.

You held your ground until enough of his men had dropped and it felt safe to start moving in. Half of those men had probably never even fired a gun before this moment. You stayed next to Carillo, taking the first steps out from the treeline only for your body to be thrown through the air as a shot from a rocket launcher hit the ground near you causing a big explosion. Your gun slammed into your face sending a piercing pain through your nose. Your ears were ringing and your vision blurred when you opened your eyes, looking at your surroundings. You felt the blood trickling down the side of your head and tasted it as it leaked from your nose.

"Bambi, are you okay? Hey! Bambi!" You looked up at one of the Search Bloc members attempting to reach you. He pulled you up to which you groaned in pain, and looked to Carillo who also looked to have a head wound. The sound of the voices and gunfire were in and out as your ears kept ringing but you racked your brain trying to focus on what was happening.

"Sí. I'm okay." You sat up and watched Gacha and his son rush down the stairs and into a red chevy parked under the house while Carillo screamed for a radio. You only allowed your body to be in shock from the blow for only a split second more before the shock was filled with anger.

"Wait, Bambi. Wait!" You clenched your teeth together and stood up, repositioning your gun as you shot down multiple men running under the house screaming in frustration as the red chevy pulled off. You fired at the truck, no bullets hitting anywhere that would help stop them.

You fell forward to your knees feeling two shots fly through your shoulder and one through your abdomen from behind. You turned and fired your gun sending three bullets into his chest, falling onto your back once he hit the ground. Multiple men ran past your body, most likely trying to flee like their boss and eventually the gun fire stopped.

You felt somebody's arms hook under yours as they dragged you back to where Carillo was with the radio. He said something along the lines of Bambi... down... tell Javier... it was all a blur.

"He's down. We'll put the bird down and recoup." You heard Javi's voice over the radio, a small smile creeping on your lips. "What's the situation there, is it safe to land?"

Carillo hesitated as he looked down at you drenched in blood he wasn't sure was your own. He knew the blood coming from your head and ears were from the rocket launcher and he could tell you had been shot, he just didn't know where or how many times. Your vest clearly didn't do its job or somehow so unluckily each bullet managed to hit you in a place you weren't protected in.

"Safe to land. Make it quick." Carillo said cupping your cheeks, forcing your eyes to focus on him. The drowsy and somehow slightly smiley look on your face told him all he needed to know. "I need medics."

"They're already on the way. Where's Bambi, put her on." Javier's chest tightened immediately as if he knew. He felt it the second Carillo got on the radio instead of you, he knew it before you even made it into Tulo. His worst nightmare was becoming a reality. "Put Bambi on."

"Hey, stay with me." Carillo slapped your cheeks once your eyes started to close. "Talk to him." He tossed the walkie to Trujillo who began describing everything to Javi except for what state you were in. You could hear Javier's panicked voice flooding the speakers of the walkie sounding angrier than you had ever heard in the entire time you've known him.

"Put her on the fucking radio!" Javi yelled at Trujillo, he had tears brimming his eyes but he didn't dare let a single one spill. Anxiety was flooding his chest at the idea that you weren't okay, but he knew it from the second it happened. "Please tell me she's okay. Please." He begged.

"Trujillo, tell me she's alive. Tell me she's not dead. Please." Javi pleaded.

Everything was in and out of focus, men shuffling around you, Carillo and Trujillo saying your name over and over again, Carillo constantly slapping your cheeks to keep you awake. You hardly noticed that your vest had been pulled off and Carillo was working to keep pressure to your wounds, but you couldn't even tell where the wounds were at that point. You felt numb. Words weren't words anymore and instead just loads of gibberish filling your ears.

"Where are the god damn medics?" You heard Carillo curse. "We're not losing her."

When your surrounding came into focus once again, Javi was running towards you, taking Carillo's place, holding your body close to his.

"Hey, hey." He said with a shaky voice. "Hey, stay with me. Where are the fucking medics!"

"My love," you looked up at him, those words leaving your mouth for the first and maybe the last time, struggling to keep him focus. His brown eyes were filled with fear and that's when it became apparent to you how bad it was. You were shot three times. Everyone was panicking and it clicked that you were possibly dying.

It clicked for Javi that you were possibly dying. That this may be the last time he look into your eyes, or the last time he heard your voice. That when he woke up this morning could've been the last time he'd wake up to your beautiful sleeping face. Or that today would be the last day you two shared coffee from the same mug at work. Or even that Steve and Connie wouldn't have you for dinner this weekend like they promised. He began shaking his head, trying to rid these thoughts. You were drenched in blood like the night he found you on the side of the road, but this time it was yours and that made him feel physically sick.

Carillo was the only one at your sides now as Javi held you in his arms, tears still refusing to fall from his eyes. Everyone moved away to give space to the normally mean man who's love of his life was dying in his arms.

"Don't do this to me, please. Please, baby." He whispered into your hair. "Please, don't leave me."

"It doesn't hurt." You said to him, your hand barely finding his, squeezing it as tightly as you could manage.

"What?" He asked, bringing your fingers to his lips. He didn't care that they were covered in blood.

"It doesn't hurt." You repeated and all he could do was release a shaky breath.

"I love you," You whispered. Your thoughts were barely thoughts anymore but as you approached what seemed to be death, the only thing you thought about what how he needed to hear it from you before you died. You weren't even sure if he heard it and the last thing you thought of before shaking hands with death himself was that you never got to hear him say it to you.

"They're here." Carillo sighed in relief as the sirens from the ambulances sounded. "Peña."

Javi looked at Carillo who was staring at you, so he followed his gaze and it felt like his heart completely stopped beating. Your eyes were shut and there was blood dripping from the side of your mouth, joining the streams that had left your nose and side of your head.

"I love you." He said to you. "I love you." He said it again and then once more after that for good measure, praying to whoever would listen that you heard it at least once before you died because he was sure you were going to die and he hated himself for not saying it sooner.

He watched as they cut your shirt off of you and began working hastily simultaneously lifting you onto a stretcher and rolling you away into an ambulance.

Carillo put his hand on Peña's shoulder and looked at him. Despite the love his life being sent away, and not knowing if you'd survive this, there was still a job to finish. Carillo, Javi and the remaining men filed into trucks and drove to the scene up the road where Gacha and his son had died. Javi felt some sense of relief knowing that this was a big hit to the Medellín Cartel.

As soon as the scene was cleared Javier and Carillo went to the hospital you were being treated in and Javier called into Medellín and Bogota to let them know that you had been injured in the line of duty. Steve and Connie were on the next flight to Tolu from Medellín and there within hours. Carillo was talking to the doctors because Javier couldn't bear to hear the news that you were dead. It would kill him.

"She's out of surgery, in recovery. She's going to be okay. She's strong, they say. You can see her soon." Carillo said to Javier and he nodded, finally taking a seat in the waiting room chair.

"Good." He nodded again, finally covering his face with his hands as the tears he fought so hard to hold back finally spilled from his eyes.

Carillo sat next to him, patting him on the back as he cried silent tears of relief knowing that you had survived.

A few hours passed and Carillo had left to make his way back to Medellín so Javier was alone in the waiting room when the nurse called for him to see you.

"Hey," You said to him, your throat scratchy from the tube they had shoved down it. His heart hurt at the sight of you. Your arm in a sling, stitches in your temple, two small stitches in your nose, and a bruised face to prove that it was in fact broken. And somehow you still made all of that look beautiful.

"Mi sol," Javi whispered as he sat down next to your bed, taking your hand into both of his, kissing each of your fingertips. "I'm so sorry I let this happen."

"It's part of the job." You told him. "I made a mistake out of rage. It's my fault."

He stared at you, "I thought I lost you. They told me you died twice. Twice."

"I had something to fight for." You said, squeezing his hand.

"I am so sorry I didn't say it before and I'm not saying it now just because of the situation pero mi amor, I love you. So fucking much that it makes my chest hurt so bad that I feel like I can't breathe and when I lost you today I regretted not ever saying it to you before." He rambled on and you could subconsciously hear the monitor beeping faster as your heart rate went up. "I love you, mi amor. Mi Bambi. Mi sol."

"I love you too." You said to him and you never meant it more than in that moment after almost losing your life, accepting the idea you'd never see him again. Now that you'd been given a second chance you'd never miss the opportunity to say it again.

He leaned forward, brushing the hair from your face with the gentlest touch, and leaning in for the gentlest kiss being so careful not to hurt your nose or any other part of your body. His thumb rested on your chin as he held it so softly kissing you with such delicacy as if not to break you and it was the most favorite kiss you had shared to date.

Javier stayed with you and a week and a half later you were on a flight home to Medellín for the rest of your recovery period. Not long after that Javier moved in officially where he helped you recover and still stay sane in the midst of not being able to go out in the field. Your dad even came to visit after hearing the news where he met Javi for the first time.

When you were finally cleared to return and leave strictly desk work to re-enter the field, Javi kept you at his side more than usual to which you had to scold him sometimes but could he really help feeling so worried all the time? Nearly losing you was scariest thing he ever experienced in your life and gave him PTSD to which he still had nightmares about.

It took navigating and discussing and finding time between being work husband and wife to actually taking care of and paying attention to your very real and personal relationship, but you finally found the well deserved balance.

~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for the request! This was kind of fun to write and it was nice to write something after so long away

[rolling-storm-writing]

I'd like to request Tonowari x Top Male reader. Tonowari and reader have been dating for years and finally decide that they are going to mate. Just a lot of fluffy mating stuff.

Tonowari x Top!M!Reader

A/N: Soooo I know I’ve gotten some previous avatar requests and I swear I’ve seen them- I’m just scared y’all!! I want that Ronal/Tonowari too I’m just really intimidated because I wanna do these characters justice.  Especially after my recent lack luster works (I’m just not personally happy with them). So I hope this one is a bit better- I haven’t written anything like this in a very very long time.

>>>>>(+18 CONTENT SO MDNI!!)<<<<<<<

There was always something so serene about the ocean something that you could never quite place.  The gentle waves and rough seas enchanted and frightened you in the same beautiful feeling.  The ocean was your second home the place of abyss where the dangers of land could never reach.  

“The perfect day…” came his cool voice from just behind you a sweet jazz sound your ears always turned to.  You turned to look at his beautiful form, his dark curled hair splayed out down his shoulder and tattooed face turned up in a warm smile.  You loved the way his eyes narrowed and cheeks rounding when he smiled, almost able to hear his deep full laugh clear as the blue tide pools.

This night was a special one for the two of you after years of courting you would finally be mated.  It was a long time coming and neither one of you could contain this excitement.  Despite his success and firm demeanor Tonowari was actually quite shy and anxious about his love for you.  A trait you both shared after separate shared heat breaks from failed couplings in the past.

He carried your heart as if it were made of finest sea glass and you’d done the same for him as well.  And now after so much your hearts would finally become one…

“You ready?” He nodded taking your hand as you led him back inside.  This was evening was just for the two of you and eywa to witness and cherish.

Your home is a little way from the main village and just above the water, it’s a small but comfortable dwelling that Tonowari adds to by just being here.  It all becomes more real when the two of you sat together his blue eyes filled with nervousness and excitement.

“You're shaking," you say, in a gentle whisper.  You’re slow to touch him even now, your hands cradling the sides of his face with an almost ghostly feel.  He’s warm against you, noses nuzzled as you brought his forehead to yours.  

“I’m happy”

The waiver in his voice was clear as day.  You’d both struggled in the past with a relationship and after so much growth, you’d be taking that final step together.  “I am to” your own voice just a quiet secret as you brought your braid to his.  His gasping was the first thing you heard then his folded ears when you opened your eyes.

His pupils blown wide as he stared back at you with the same surprise.  “Do I look silly?” He chuckled rising to his knees with you eagerly pulling him into you.  “You look perfect…” all you could see was him, all your oxygen became him, your entire being belonged to him.

His breath hitched as you loosened the ties of his loins, the garment easily slipped off and laid to the side for later.  Tonowari was a large man by Na’vi standards and that also extended to the lower extremity he had.  But when compared to you he felt like a small thing to be brushed away.  Your cock is larger than his by any measure and for a moment he looked at you with questionable eyes.

“I’ll be gentle” you promise. Tonowari nodded and lent over, his plush lips fitting perfectly with yours.  You kissed him for another moment longer, savoring the taste of him. You trail from his neck all the way down the soft muscles of his chest.  

“You’re so beautiful…” affirming your words with a kiss to each of his nipples.  He’s splayed out on his back shuddering underneath you in a matter of seconds as you get lower.  

Swallowing the tip into your mouth and sucking gently.  His moan is a loud deep whimper, and you hold his thighs at the small jolt of his hips.  “More…please” he groans out a hand curling into the strands of your hair, you take him deeper until his length hits the back of your throat.  

You’re almost tempted to let him cum, but not just yet. 

You pull off him with a grin on your face.  Precum dripping down your chin as Tonowari looks at you through heavy eyes.  Leaning over you reach to kiss him, it’s sloppy mess but neither one of you complain.

Your fingers are slick with oil as you work him open, adding another digit with each ask for more.   His hole a beautifully blushed purple as you finish working him open, fluttering, clenching, and begging to be filled.

“Ready?”

“More than…”

Being generous would be a loose statement, your cock slicked with oil and even more on Tonowari.  He looked so beautiful this way, legs spread and raised with you perfectly between them.  

Tonowari felt the warm weight of your dick being dragged up and down his loose and ready hole. Pre-come was slicking up his cheeks along with the oil.  Your slow thrust was enough to drive him mad before you finally entered him.

A deep moan left his lips as he felt your cock rub against his rim and the head push inside.  You were big and even with prep this was gonna take a minute.  Looking down his hole was stretched beautifully around you, his breathing heavy with every inch deeper you got.

His arm wrapped over your neck as he moaned and whined into your shoulder.

And after brief moment you bottomed out heavy balls on his ass.  eyes crossed from how full he felt.

“So good…” you were both breathless and sweaty, and his comment made you chuckle he felt good as well.  There was no rush in waiting for him to adjust letting those heavy thighs wrap around you a little tighter.

His lips peppering your neck as you slowly pulled out so only the head was left inside. 

Pushing back in fucking him nice and slow.  You cock dragging against Tonowari’s swollen insides with every back and forth thrust of your hips, striking his prostate with each thrust. His mouth on yours and the warm wet of his tongue only heightened the feeling.  

He clutched at you even tighter pulling you in as close as possible; his own leaking cock, rubbing against your stomach and smearing it with precum.

His moans lost in the swell of muddled senses and all you felt was him.  He had invaded every one of them, his heart beating with yours, his very being. And Tonowari couldn’t do anything but feel and taste you, lost in how good it felt to have you on and inside him.

“I’m close” you moaned against his lips as Tonowari brought his legs up higher making you sink further into him.  His hole clenching down tighter around your aching cock.  

“Inside please” he whined bitting into the meat of your shoulder, his warm tears leaving their mark.

You emptied inside of him with a satisfied groan, falling forward onto Tonowari’s cum-slicked chest.  Your cock throbbed with each rope of cum that painted his insides, you were both left desperately clinging to the other a tangled mess of men.

His legs fell from your waist as they trembled from the orgasm that ripped through the both of you.

The both of you… 

———————————————

A/N: Im so scared to actually read this back so I hope y’all like it! Feed back, comment, and critique is always welcome. Yes my requests are open so send one in if you have any, I have a few ideas for a certain clone force 99 brewing.

BUT! in the mean time I hope you enjoyed and don’t forget your umbrella.

[adrunkskeletonsduck]

hi! i loved songcord so much, i thought you could really do this idea justice. i was thinking, and what if reader finds lip gloss or something similar in one of the old buildings and decides to try it on. either of the sully boys (your choice!) just cannot stop looking at it and wanting to kiss them! maybe a little spice please? thank you!

Lɪᴘ-Gʟᴏss

➜ Pairing: Lo'ak x gender!neutral!reader

➜ Summary: You find a little treasure while exploring an abandoned building in 'Hell's Gates' with Lo'ak that leads to a tender moment between the two of you.

➜ Warnings: kissing

➜ Word Count: 1.7k

➜ Notes: hi guys ^_^

“Lo’ak we can't be here!” You hissed, tugging at his hand in an attempt to get him to turn around. He refused, continuing to move through the thinning underbrush of the forest. 

“It’s been abandoned for years, we’ll be fine!” he replied insistently, pulling you along with him. You grumbled in protest, but he ignored you, looking through the last layer of leaves to make sure it was, in fact, as clear as he insisted. His eyes swept the area back and forth, catching at every small movement before he deemed it clear and marched right through onto the turf of Hell’s Gate.  

You bit your bottom lip, cursing his stubbornness and scurrying out of the greenery behind him. You follow behind him as he runs to the nearest concrete structure. It takes the two of you, and a good amount of pulling, to pry the airtight door open. Finally, it swings open, its hinges squeaking from years of neglect and making you stagger back. It begins to close again by the time you both regain your footing, and you both slip through the narrowing entry. Just barely avoiding the heavy thing closing on your tail. You squeak in surprise.  

The inside of Hell’s Gate is just as empty and – if not more – dead as the outside. It lacks the lively greens that have grown over the grey structures. Everything is white, gray and an “ugly medical blue" as you'd heard Jake describe it once. The machines and tables are covered in a heavy layer of dust.

You swipe the pad of your finger over one as you pass it, frowning as the blue of your skin turns grey.  

“This is gross,” you state, whipping your finger against yourself with a frown. Lo’ak nods in agreement.  

“Definitely not as cool as what we have back in the mountains,” he adds, although technically speaking it's all the same, just less dusty.  

“But look at the size of it…no way all those tiny sky people needed this much space,” you joke, and Lo’ak laughs. Pushing the door to the next room open, he notes that this door is much lighter than the last.

The two of you walk in, your eyes glazing over everything in the room as you drift off from him to explore it. The room reminds you of where Norman and some of the other scientists sleep, so you gather it must be some type of sleeping corridor, although it is quite bare. There are no sheets or pillows, no bags full of belongings or clothes on hooks or racks. Just steel and metal structures that stack on top of one another and hold thin white mattresses on them. Although the mattresses can hardly be described as white now.  

“It's empty!” Lo’ak exclaims from his side of the room, beginning to make his way towards you. You open your mouth about to agree with his statement before a small bag catches your eye. It’s tucked under one of the bunks, just barely visible from where you stand. It must have been forgotten. You have to bend down to see the whole thing, and get down on your hands and knees to reach it. 

Lo’aks heavy footsteps halt as he reaches you. “What are you doing?” he questions with furrowed brows and an amused smile.  

“I found…” you reach under the bunk, pausing as you grasp onto the bag and pull it out, “this.” You pull yourself back up, grasping the tiny bag between your pointer and thumb. There's a floral pattern imprinted on the fabric. Unsurprisingly you don’t recognize any of the plants depicted in the design.  

“Is there anything inside it?” he asks with a grin, giddy eyes eager for an adventure. You shake the bag to answer his question, a small grin of your own forming when you feel something rattle around inside it.  

“Yes!” you giggle, fumbling around with the piece of fabric, trying to find a way to open it. After a moment your large fingers get a grip on the tiny zipper head. With a gentle tug you pull the zipper open, and flip the bag upside down, letting the small treasure inside fall into your palm.  

This time you're both confused as you stare at the small clear tube in your hand. Inside you can see a long stick that goes through the middle and looks to be connected to the silver head of the tube and a thick looking liquid. The tube looks to only be half full, with a light pink tint to the liquid inside. 

Your eyebrows furrow and you shake the bag again to check if there's anything else inside, maybe something that could explain or at least give you a clue to what the odd-looking liquid is for, but nothing comes out.

Lo’ak takes it from your small hand into his larger one, spinning it between his fingers. He squints looking closely at it.  

“I think something is written on it…” he says uncertainly. He brings it closer to his face, in an attempt to read the tiny English text. A language he could just barely read, thanks to his lessons with Jake as a child.  

“Can you read it?” you ask, watching as he sounds out the letters to himself. His mouth opens and closes, whispers of sounds coming from them for a minute before he strings them together. 

“Lip-gloss.” He says uncertainly, and then he repeats it, more confident this time, “It’s lip gloss.” Lo’ak frowns at the tube uncertainly, letting you take it from his hands. You roll it over your fingers, inspecting it.  

"I'm going to try it.” You decide.  

“You don't even know how to use it.” Lo’ak argues.  

You look at him like he’s stupid. “It’s gloss for your lips, you put it on your lips, Lo’ak. It’s in the name.” He rolls his eyes, his face contouring into an almost pout like expression. You giggle, which only upsets him further and he looks away from you.  

Turning your attention back to the tiny tube, you decide to ignore him for a moment. You grasp the tube by the bottom with one hand, fumbling at the top of it with the other, attempting to unscrew it. You grunt in frustration as your fingers slip and fumble around the tiny thing, but after a few moments of struggle and much effort it gives a little pop, and the top unscrews.  

You can feel Lo'aks eyes on you from where he stands, watching as you bring the product-soaked wand to your lips, gliding it along the surface of the soft skin. You can't see it, but Lo’ak is blushing as he sees the soft tint of pink showing through the gloss. The way he’s so eagerly staring at your lips doesn't go unnoticed, and your cheeks begin to burn in embarrassment when you notice it.  

You bring the tube down, hesitantly asking, “does it look bad?” His eyes snap to yours, and he clears his throat. 

“No it-” he stutters, and you cringe at the hesitation. “It looks good.” He looks away, taking a deep breath in an attempt to collect himself, before moving in front of you to continue into the next room. “We should explore more before we have to head back.”  

He swings the metal door open, holding it open for you with an outstretched hand, and letting it shut behind you. You can't bring yourself to make eye contact with him, still slightly embarrassed, but you can feel his eyes on you, or more so your lips. The next couple of rooms are the same as the last, and you guys walk through sleeping area after sleeping area in silence until Lo’ak speaks up.  

“Are you alright?” he asks suddenly. You turn your head slightly, your eyes fluttering up to meet his and then going back down.  

“Yes why?”  

“You’re red," he says.  

You offer a half-assed explanation, “It’s just a little bit hot in here.” Suddenly he stops walking, and you come to a halt beside him. Your eyebrows furrow and you look at him in confusion. “What’re you doing?” you ask.   

He doesn't answer for a long moment, and you can practically see the gears in his head turning as he thinks. If this had been in a different context, you would’ve made a joke about how it's probably taking him so long to think of whatever it was because he doesn't do much thinking, but you hold your tongue.  

“I think the lip gloss looks really nice on you!” He blurts suddenly, and your cheeks flush a deep red.  

“Thank you Lo’ak.” You say shyly. He takes a step closer to you as you speak, his eyes trained on your lips as they move before flicking up to your eyes. He takes another step towards you and your breath hitches at the lack of distance now. You can faintly feel the heat radiating off him, and your eyes flutter up to meet his. 

“What’re you doing?” The question comes out in a whisper. The distance between you and him, or lack thereof, makes you breathless. Lo’ak doesn't respond, instead your answer comes as the feeling of a rough hand cupping your waist and another on your cheek, pulling your face forward. You don't have time to think about what happens next, and as if by instinct your eyes flutter shut, and you feel his warm lips pressing against yours.  

The kiss is slow, and sensual, and you melt into it. You’ve known the Sully boy most of your life, but never had you thought that you would end up in a situation like this with him. After a moment Lo’ak pulls back, and breaks the kiss.  

As his eyes open and meet yours there’s an oddly raw and venerable look in his eyes that you’re not used to. You’ve only seen it a couple times, and you were honestly not sure you were supposed to have seen it, but this time your gaze feels welcome.  

“Was that okay?” he asks quietly, and you can hear an underlying worry and nervousness in his tone.  

You assured him gently, "That was perfect.”  

[brainrotlesbian]

The Toy and the Prince

Part 2: co-captives

Jordan woke to the sound of muffled crying and a splitting headache. He slowly opened his eyes, the harsh light of the cell hurting them. He blinked a few times, then realization hit him all at once. He was in the dungeon. He was a prisoner. No, not a prisoner. A captive. A hostage, almost.

A thick cloth was shoved in his mouth, tied tightly and mercilessly at the back of his head, muffling any words he’d say. His arms were chained above him, his wrists locked in backwards so they were facing behind him. His fists were wrapped tight in tape, ensuring he couldn’t try to pry his way out.

“Mmmmph!!!” He pulled on his restraints, the chains clanking uselessly. He huffed, then turned to the person he’d tried rescuing before.

They sat on the floor, arms chained to the wall, while Jordan had to remain standing. They still had the muzzle locked onto their face, new bruises and scratches on their skin, especially their cheeks. Their shoulder-length blond hair was more tangled now, their beautiful blue eyes bloodshot and tear-stained. They’d been stripped of their clothes entirely, and they’d curled their legs up to hide their crotch. Their head was lowered as they continued sobbing.

Guilt surged in his chest. No wonder they’d panicked when Gabriel had come to his room— Gabriel. He betrayed them. He’d been torturing this poor innocent person for who knows how long. And Jordan had unknowingly simply given them back to him.

He looked away, staring blankly at the cell door. He couldn’t look at them, knowing he was part of the reason they were stuck here. A lump formed in his throat, and he bit down into his gag to avoid crying. He didn’t want them to see him cry.

The dungeon door slammed open, and Empress Celeste stormed in with a huff. She immediately stormed up to Jordan, and smacked him across the face.

“You little brat!” she screamed, grabbing his face and pinching it tight. “Had to interfere with yet another one of my personal projects?!” She threw him back with an irritated huff. “Although, I suppose, it’s not like you could’ve known. I must thank you for returning Mr. Hayes to where he belongs.” She turned to Jordan’s companion, who sobbed upon looking at her.

Their name was Hayes? Or, their surname was at least. Or, was it “he”? Jordan wasn’t sure.

Celeste stood in front of Hayes, her hands on her hips. Then she knelt down in front of him, tipping his head up with her hand, forcing them to look at her. He whimpered, shaking, but too afraid to move away from her. Anger flared in Jordan’s chest as he watched, almost shaking with rage.

“Mmnnn!!!” Jordan yanked hard on his restraints, trying to get to them; to stop her for tormenting Hayes like this. “Mmhmmm!!!”

Celeste turned to look at her brother, then solidly slammed her knee into Hayes’s chest, forcing a wheezing gasp out of them. They gasped, struggling to breathe through the confines of their muzzle. Their head lowered, sniffling. She grinned, then stepped away from him.

“Gabriel!” she called, and he soon came running in, looking at both of the captives in the room.

Jordan glared at him, furious with his betrayal. Gabriel didn’t respond, rather facing his attention to the empress.

“Continue what you were doing with Mr. Hayes here,” she ordered. “And my brother…” She turned to face him. “Do with him what you like.”

“Won’t the people notice that the Prince has gone missing?” he asked. “That’s gonna be difficult to hide.”

She pursed her lips, while Jordan shouted muffled nonsense at her through his gag.

“We could say that he was killed by a rival. They’d rally behind his death and search for justice for him,” she suggested.

“Mmmmfff!” Jordan yanked on his restraints again, although he wasn’t able to pull very hard on them due to the angle of his arms. He growled in frustration, glaring at his sister and her traitorous soothsayer.

His attention slipped to Hayes, who he realized had been looking at him sorrowfully. They locked eyes for a second, before Jordan quickly looked away, tears beginning to pool in his eyes.

“Yes, I think that’ll work quite nicely,” she decided, tapping her fingers on her chin. “You can do whatever you like with these two, now. I have some other business to attend to.”

She quickly swept out of the cell, leaving them now at the mercy of Gabriel. He eyed the two captives, before finally settling his gaze on Jordan, who swallowed nervously despite the cloth stuffed in his mouth.

“I think I have an idea, hold tight.” Gabriel switched open a pocket knife and began approaching Jordan.

He shrieked as Gabriel approached him, kicking his legs wildly, but it didn’t do any good. He was stuck, and at the mercy of his captor.

Gabriel held the blade of the knife up to Jordan’s silk button-up shirt, which was rumpled and wrinkly. His eyes widened and he let out a muffled cry, shaking his head rapidly. It did nothing to dissuade Gabriel, though. He began to unbutton the shirt until it hung open, exposing his chubby belly and chest.

“Mmm!” Jordan tensed, trying to back away from Gabriel now that he was more exposed, but his restraints kept him in place.

“Easy now, boy, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Gabriel hissed through his teeth. “As long as you don’t give me a reason to hurt you.”

“Nnnnfff!” This time it was Hayes who cried out. He’d brought himself to his knees and was now straining against the chains holding him to the wall.

Jordan couldn’t help but let his eyes wander for a second, catching a glimpse of the rest of Hayes’ body. He quickly looked down at the floor, ashamed of himself. He didn’t even know this person’s first name, and yet…

“Shut it, pretty boy,” Gabriel hissed. “I’m not gonna hurt the prince here.” He slid the blade of the knife easily through the right sleeve of Jordan’s shirt, up to the collar. He then repeated the process on the left sleeve, letting the torn shirt pieces fall uselessly to the ground.

“Dress code here,” he explained, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’ll get used to it. Anyway, I hope you two have fun; I’ll be back tomorrow for the real work to begin.”

“Mmph?!” Jordan whipped his head up, but their captor was already walking out of the cell door. The heavy metal door slammed shut behind him, and he heard the clicking of the lock. His heart sank.

He was stuck.

Taglist (ignore that I forgot about this the first time 🥴): @saffitaffi @gala1981 @fleur-a-whump @scoundrelwithboba

[goodqueenaly]

@diegoedil replied to your post “House Words Wednesdays: House Mudd”

But is Mudd House really extinct? In episode 4 of season 1 of HOTD, one of Rhaenyra's suitors apparently belongs to that House, as you can see his sigil on his chest.

I'm reposting this as a reminder to everyone that I am not talking about That Other Show and will be blocking anyone using my posts to talk about That Other Show.

As far as the books are concerned, House Mudd went extinct millennia ago. See, for example, this conversation between Catelyn and Robb in ASOS:

Robb studied the sepulcher. "Whose grave is this?" "Here lies Tristifer, the Fourth of His Name, King of the Rivers and the Hills." Her father had told her his story once. "He ruled from the Trident to the Neck, thousands of years before Jenny and her prince, in the days when the kingdoms of the First Men were falling one after the other before the onslaught of the Andals. The Hammer of Justice, they called him. He fought a hundred battles and won nine-and-ninety, or so the singers say, and when he raised this castle it was the strongest in Westeros." She put a hand on her son's shoulder. "He died in his hundredth battle, when seven Andal kings joined forces against him. The fifth Tristifer was not his equal, and soon the kingdom was lost, and then the castle, and last of all the line. With Tristifer the Fifth died House Mudd, that had ruled the riverlands for a thousand years before the Andals came."

As well as this academic discussion from Yandel in TWOIAF:

The penultimate and greatest of the river kings to stand before the Andals was Tristifer IV of House Mudd, the Hammer of Justice, who ruled from a great castle called Oldstones, on a hill by the banks of the Blue Fork. The singers tell us he fought a hundred battles against the invaders and won nine-and-ninety of them, only to fall in the hundredth, when he rode to war against an alliance of seven Andal kings. Yet it seems convenient that there are seven kings in the songs; likely this is another tale concocted by the septons as a lesson in piety. Before the Mudds, there had been other kings near as powerful. The Fishers are said in some chronicles to have been the first and oldest line of river kings (in others, they are accounted the second dynasty, and the fragmentary Annals of the Rivers from the ancient septry at Peasedale suggests they were third). The Blackwoods and Brackens both claim to have ruled the riverlands at various times during the Age of Heroes. The Mudds succeeded in unifying more of the riverlands than any of their predecessors, but their reign was not to last. The Hammer of Justice was succeeded by his son, Tristifer V, or Tristifer the Last, who proved unable to stem the Andal tide and failed even to hold his own people together.

To be sure, there was at least one other would-be claimant to the Mudd legacy in Westerosi history: Marq Mudd, the so-called "Mad Bard", one of those "dozen pretenders from as many houses would adopt the style of River King or King of the Trident and vow to throw off the yoke of the stormlanders". However, both his reappearance millennia after the fall of House Mudd as a royal dynasty as well as his "mad" epithet suggests to me that this Marq was less a late-appearing heir to a long-gone royal dynasty and more an ambitious adventurer canny enough to play on the mystique of a storied old name but uncertain enough not to be widely accepted as such. Indeed, Jon Connington himself links use of the "Mudd" name, among others, within the Golden Company with vaulting, specifically unearned dynastic pride:

Some of the sellsword captains bore bastard names, as Flowers did: Rivers, Hill, Stone. Others claimed names that had once loomed large in the histories of the Seven Kingdoms; Griff counted two Strongs, three Peakes, a Mudd, a Mandrake, a Lothston, a pair of Coles. Not all were genuine, he knew. In the free companies, a man could call himself whatever he chose.

See also this comment from GRRM:

A question that crops up concerning the two old River King dynasties -- is it wrong to assume that one of them was the line of the final River Kings, ended by the ancestors of the Storm King Arrec, and that the other (as Theon recollects in his first chapter in Clash of Kings) is the line ended by the old King of the Iron Islands whose slaughter of the then River Kings sons led to the naming of the Bloody Keep? A logical assumption, and maybe half true. There were actually more dynasties in the riverlands than these two ... [sic] but so far I've only come up with two names. The riverlands have been much warred over. The Mudds were the last of the First Men to rule the Trident, I seem to recall; it was Andal invaders who put an end to that line.

[enchantedchocolatebars]

The Bloodied Dagger

Original story

Ao3 version

A small crowd was gathered in the center of town and was in awe as they witnessed THE Matthew Hopkins tying up an odious "witch".

The wicked wench pleaded for the great general to let her go, proclaiming her false innocence to him.

However, the woman was rightfully disregarded.

Witches were quite notorious for spinning lies and telling tall tales, and Hopkins was well-informed of that fact.

He was a man of God, after all.

"Look at those arms," a young woman in the crowd comments about the witchfinder to her friend, who nods in agreement.

Both women simultaneously exhale a sigh of infatuation as they begin to view Hopkins through a "crush filter", their pupils now taking on the shape of red hearts.

"He has the eyes of righteousness," a burly man would state out of admiration.

"Oh, that Matthew Hopkins is steamier than a stew in July~," another woman who was crushing on the general said with a giggle, fanning herself with her hand.

"I could kiss him!" a thrilled man shouts, to which the other townspeople fully support his excited statement.

To them and the other residents living in Gravesfield, a formal and friendly kiss between two gentleman was not a problem.

Standing among the chatty crowd was Philip, the teen's smile growing immensely as he watched his idol bring the "witch" to justice.

He aspired to be a great witch hunter just like him.

Once she was fully tied around her midsection, Hopkins wastes no time shoving the woman to the ground.

He then places a triumphant foot on her.

The crowd celebrates this heroic action with a loud cheer as Philip quickly rushes over to Hopkins.

"Mr. Hopkins, that was AMAZING!" he said, his blue eyes sparkling with inspiration.

A cocky chuckle is released by Hopkins at the compliment.

'Ah, the youth and their praise,' he thought to himself.

His ego loved it.

"Well, what can I say?" he began. "I do what must be done."

He grabs the end of his rope.

"Now, I must be off. This she-devil needs to be condemned for her heinous crimes."

As he starts heading towards the outskirts of town, a crooked dagger slips out of Hopkins's holder.

Upon seeing this, Philip immediately goes to pick the weapon up.

"Mr. Hopkins, you dropped this!"

"Hm?"

After halting, Hopkins turns around and spots his dagger in the boy's hand.

"Keep it," he said with false humility, causing Philip to gasp as he continued.

"A generous gift from me to you." He had plenty other daggers that looked exactly the same at home.

"Protect yourself against any wild witches you might come in contact with," he told Philip.

Philip gave a second gasp.

He couldn't believe it.

Matthew Hopkins, the greatest witch hunter of all time, was giving him his knife... as a gift?!

Philip could faint.

He wasn't going to, but he could have.

Philip nods. "I will! Oh, Mr. Hopkins, I am truly honored to have this!"

Hopkins chuckled.

This kid was something else.

"You should be!" he shouts back with a smug expression.

And with that, the general continues his way through town.

As he gazes at his new dagger, Philip squeals with pure delight.

He planned to keep it forever and couldn't wait to show it off to Caleb, but first, he had to clean off the blood that stained the metal.

He was certain it belonged to a witch.

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

More Precious Than Rubies: Part 4a

This is an alternate timeline story that has a Rafael Barba track and a Sonny Carisi track. The two paths split off in part 3.

WC: 4229

TW: SVU-typical talk of rape and sexual assault cases; idiots in love.

AN: The prompt was "Everything will fall into place."

The day had started great.  Barba had a grand jury return an indictment on a difficult test case, and the week only looked to get better as it progressed.

He left the courthouse and paused at the top of the steps.  He squinted against the bright May sunshine, slid his sunglasses on, and took in the scene around him.  There was something about the springtime that lifted the relative drear of his life.  The trees in Thomas Payne Park were in bloom, a gentle wind was curving through the columns of the courthouse.  Spring was a season of possibilities.

He started down the steps when he felt someone come up behind him.  He heard a familiar voice call out, without social niceties or preamble, “we need to talk about the Forni case.”

He turned in time to see you fall in step beside him.  He glanced you over as you both descended the steps and paused at the bottom to face each other. 

Your usual pencil skirts usually hit precisely at the knee, but the navy blue one you wore now hit an inch or two higher, showing off your shapely legs.  He was glad for his sunglasses hiding his eyes, but you smirked at him anyway.

“Nothing to talk about, counselor,” he replied.  “We couldn’t reach a deal, so I’ll see you in court.”

Your smirk transformed into a wide grin.  You reached into your satchel and pulled out a folded paper that you handed to him.  He went to take it, and you held it for a beat, making him tug it out of your grasp as you smiled at him. 

“Ah, but you won’t see me in court,” you said.  “I got Forni shifted to family court.  I’ll be seeing a one Ms. Pippa Cox instead.”

Barba opened the paper and scanned it in disbelief.  “How…what…?” he sputtered.

If your smile got any wider, it’d split your face in half.  “Turns out Judge Barth is open to certain studies that show how racial disparities affect minority communities when it comes to underaged people being tried as adults.  She agreed that the case belonged in family court.  I’m off to see Cox now to talk about a reasonable deal that serves justice without vengeance.”

He crumpled the paper in his fist and glared at you, and you only gave him a light laugh.  You waved your hands in front of him like you were doing a magic trick.  “Poof, there goes your case,” you declared.  “The Amazing Girl Wonder does it again.”

You walked away, and he watched you go, trying to ignore the way your skirt strained a bit around your ass and how your legs looked in your heels.  He gritted his teeth and felt a migraine start up in his left temple.  McCoy was going to hate this, and Liv would probably have something smart to say too.

-----

He heard that you and Cox hammered out a deal that got Anthony Forni into a juvenile treatment facility.  Less than a month into him serving his sentence, certain crimes committed against him came to light, and SVU was put on the case.

You had been right:  Anthony’s uncle had been molesting him since he was a young child, and the more SVU dug into the old man, the more victims they found.  Before long, Barba had a strong case with multiple victims and incontrovertible evidence.  It was a slam dunk, and the jury was only out for a bit before they came back with a guilty verdict.

You sat in the gallery during the sentencing.  Anthony was there to give a victim impact statement, and when it was all over, Barba caught your eye.  You did that usual irritating head tilt of yours, but you nodded at him too.  And then you smiled.

-----

May turned to June, and Barba didn’t have another case against you for the entire month.  It should have been a relief – just his usual slate of cases without quite so much aggravation – but it didn’t mean he didn’t think about you.  Just the opposite, in fact.

Barba prided himself on having a good read on people based on first impressions, and that went double with his fellow lawyers.  He knew, for example, within five minutes of meeting Buchanan that the man was a money-grubber without a shred of moral integrity.  He knew that his fellow ADAs were a mixed bag:  Callier was competent but treated the job like a job without much passion for justice, and O’Dwyer punted off any case that he couldn’t twist into a headline or a law review article. 

Barba had similarly judged you, but you kept surprising him.  He was constantly revising his impression of you. 

First, he thought you were just some barely functional law lackey and had landed in public defense because it was all that was available to you.  When you proved yourself as competent, he revised his opinion of you.

Then he assumed that you were one of those lawyers who used public defense to vault into a lucrative career of criminal defense.  That’s what Buchanan had done, after all.  But after a while, Barba heard through the gossipy channels of his lawyer networks that you’d been offered positions with a few different firms and had turned them down.  Revision number two.

He was currently settled on thinking that you really were some sort of do-gooder, revise-the-system sort of advocate.  He saw the way your eyes shined when Anthony Forni finally got justice.  There was no faking that sort of genuine feeling. 

He wondered where your zeal for justice came from.  He knew his fair share of bleeding-hearts in his career, but you were specifically driven – you didn’t have the vague, do-gooder, we’re all one people sort of passion.  You were laser-focused on specific issues.  Something had made you that way.  He wondered what it was.

He almost felt bad – public defenders either burned out quickly or became embittered.  As much as you were a thorn in his side, he would readily admit that you were a good lawyer with a sharp intellect for the law that belied how green you really were.  He’d hate to see you in ten years (or five, or two), that sparkle in your eye and that annoyingly defiant head tilt gone. 

But Barba was irritated by the fact that you were taking up so much space in his head.  And it didn’t get any better.

In fact, it got worse.  Barba went out with the squad one night to celebrate a hard-won case, and he had too much to drink.  Your name had come up over the course of the evening – Fin complaining about you, remarking that he hated hearing your heels clicking down the hallway when SVU caught a new case with a public defender.  From there, Barba couldn’t shake the image of you at the sentencing of Forni’s uncle, when you nodded and then smiled at him.  Too many scotches in, and he couldn’t shake the image.

Liv had to load him into a taxi, and he stumbled home to his empty apartment.  He only got himself half undressed before he collapsed into bed, and the combination of too much alcohol and a well-fought win and you on the brain left him feeling…well, amorous. 

Barba rarely ever bothered to take care of himself, but in the spirit of celebration, he did – and as much as he fought it, he kept picturing you.  His mind, soaked in booze, spun though a series of improbable scenarios:  in his office, in the courtroom, in the SVU interrogation room. 

His mind finally settled on a cliched stuck-elevator scenario that he’d be embarrassed by in the morning, but in the meantime…he pictured the two of you trapped in an elevator (power outage, it’d take hours to fix), you panicking (you were claustrophobic), him comforting.  He imagined you doing that infuriating head-tilt you did, but in his mind, you tilted your face to his, pleading with him to distract you. 

From there, the scenario deteriorated, and he brought himself to climax with you on his mind, and then he rolled over and slept the sated sleep of the near-dead.  He didn’t wake up until late morning, but it was a Saturday and he didn’t have anywhere to be.

In the light of morning, he cleaned himself up soberly, his head throbbing and a twist of Catholic guilt at masturbating in the first place.  He vowed to stop thinking about you.

-----

It was easier said than done. 

Barba found himself collecting interactions with you like a magpie collection shiny baubles and lining his nest with them. 

There were the usual meetings to review possible plea deals when you had one of his cases.  He probably should feel ashamed to have thought about you that drunken night after the bar, but he was always able to meet your gaze levelly without hesitation.  When a plea couldn’t be reached, there was the usual trials.  You usually lost, but it was never a complete loss – you always managed to get more serious charges dropped or found ‘not guilty,’ and you managed to get a lot of your clients more lenient, alternative sentencing. 

But there were other interactions too.

There was the time he saw you across the street of the courthouse.  You were waiting for the light, and you turned your face to the sunlight and closed your eyes for a second.  He saw you take a deep breath and smile at the stolen moment of serenity in what he assumed was a life as busy as his.

There was the time in the courthouse elevator, when he stepped on at one floor and you joined him on the next.  You nodded at him and then turned your back to him, and he watched you and prayed for a non-fatal elevator disaster to strike.  But god’s attention was clearly elsewhere because the elevator deposited both of you on the ground floor, and you strode away without a backwards glance.

There was the time he saw you running in Riverside Park.  You were obviously doing some workout – sprinting for a distance on the trail, then walking back to your starting point while frowning at a giant watch on your wrist.  Then repeating it, over and over.  He had been out for a rare Sunday afternoon walk, tired of being cramped in his office all weekend, and he had stood and watched you from a distance until he was certain someone would call the cops on him for publicly leering at women in the park.

There was the time at the wine bar when he was just settling in his seat as you were paying and leaving.  When you noticed him, you smiled and repeated the magic-trick gesture that you’d done with the Forni case.  Then you left, and Barba found out the next morning that you’d yanked another case out from under his nose.

There was the conference on sexual crimes and cyberspace, and Barba only noticed you during a break before the keynote.  You stood at the refreshments table and frowned at the offerings of stale bagels and burnt coffee, and he watched you sigh heavily before you speared a few slices of cantaloupe.  He walked over to stand beside you, and he pretended to get a coffee.

“Counselor,” he said in greeting.  “Learning about the new crimes you’ll have to defend?”

He watched you turn to face him, and he watched you look him up and down.  He was glad to have worn one of his better suits, but he still wondered what you thought of him.  Your mouth twisted into one of your half smiles, but that could mean literally anything with you.

“I have to stay one step ahead of the D.A.’s office,” you admitted.  “They have some really tough lawyers over there.”  You paused a beat, then added, “O’Dwyer is one of the best, honestly.”

Then you snorted at the look on his face and walked away with your plate of fruit, leaving Barba flustered with his cup of awful coffee.

********

You loved your job.  You lost more than you won, but that was the life of a public defender, and you managed to divert a fair share of non-violent and first-time offenders into alternative sentencing arrangements.

The best was when you scored a hit against ADA Barba.  You were cordial with the other ADAs – Callier, O’Dwyer, Niles – but Barba was linked to SVU and pompous to boot.  You wondered if he learned how to smirk at Harvard, or if it was a natural talent.

You didn’t know how he was with other defense lawyers, but he seemed to enjoy arguing with you.  You’d been offended by the “girl wonder” comment, but then you leaned into it, tossing it back in his face when you beat him.  You loved the way his handsome face got stony, how his green eyes turned stormy when you bested him. 

The best was when he clenched his jaw so hard that you could hear his molars straining under the pressure.  You made a deal with yourself:  if you got him to crack a tooth in frustration, you’d take a long weekend and go to the Catskills for a mini-vacation. 

And if he never did, at least you could enjoy needling him.  You loved throwing him off his game.  Barba was just another politically-minded ADA, taking certain cases so that he could claim the “tough on crime” tag when he made his eventual run at a judgeship. 

Still, he seemed okay as a person.  You may even vote for him, if he ran for an elected position.  Maybe turn up to one of his campaign events just to stare at him and wait for him to blink first.  Or imply that one of his coworkers was better than him, like you did when you ran into him at a conference.  The look on his face, somewhere between surprise and offense, had been hilarious.

Your life had a comforting rhythm.  You worked.  You went home.  You ate lunch too often at Salvadoreño, probably keeping them afloat with your addiction to their pupusas.  You took up a half-marathon training plan to justify your daily lunch calorie count.  You hung out with your friends when you had free time, and you just contributed to an ongoing text string when you didn’t have time.  Your friends were mostly lawyers too, and no one had time for anything other than work.

Work was a convenient excuse for your appalling lack of love life.  After Sonny, you refused to date for a while.  Once the heartache faded a bit, you went on a few first dates that were like slow-motion train wrecks.  The Wall Street guy who spent the evening on his phone.  The Bronx ADA who lambasted your job.  The corporate lawyer who talked about himself the entire evening and then parted ways with you on the street afterwards after telling you that you weren’t his type, physically.

You only saw Sonny sometimes at work.  It could have been easy to fall back into bad habits, but he kept his distance from you and only exchanged the smallest of small talk.  Every so often, you caught him looking at you with a woebegone look on his face, but more often than not, he was joined at the hip to Amanda.  Leaning on her desk with his lanky legs stretched out in front of him.  Sitting in interrogation with her.  Bringing her a ginger ale from the breakroom.  Trotting after her like a puppy when a new case came in.

Almost two years later, and it still nettled to see it.

You were in the 16th precinct to talk with a new client who was going to be arraigned the next day.  It was a Barba case, and you each did your usual snark-filled banter across the interrogation table.  His eyes got their usual glint in them that made you question, as usual, if he was turned on by arguing.  Then your client was led out in handcuffs, and you assured him that you’d be there in the morning for his arraignment.

When you went to leave the room, Barba opened the door for you and then fell in step with you.  He was saying something about the case, making a final bid for some deal, but you barely heard him.  As you walked through the precinct bullpen, your eyes drifted to Sonny and Amanda standing by the big-screen in the corner. 

And you saw, clearly, that Amanda was pregnant.

It was like a punch in the gut, pulling all the wind from you.  Your eyes went from her swelling stomach to Sonny’s face – who was looking directly at you with his bright blue eyes.  The expression on his face was unreadable, and you turned away and walked as quickly as you could to the elevator.  Barba matched your speed and kept up with you, but he had fallen silent.  He watched you jam the ‘down’ button furiously, then joined you when the elevator doors slid open.  He watched you jam the ‘door shut’ button just as angrily.  You heard Sonny call your name from the hallway, and you hit the button and kept hitting it until you felt a tentative hand on your wrist.

“It’s shut,” said Barba softly.  “You can stop.”

You couldn’t look at him.  Your vision was blurry with tears as you stared at the elevator panel.  You hadn’t meant to start crying – it felt like an involuntary reflex, seeing Amanda pregnant and Sonny solicitous with her.  How long had he waited before he started sleeping with her after you broke up with him?  Had he already been sleeping with her?  Your mind stretched back to all the broken dates and the times he stood you up to be with her….

And of course, the one single time you got emotional at work, it had to be in front of your harshest competitor.  You could envision a long stretch ahead of you where Barba mocked you for crying every time you tried to hash out a plea deal. 

But he didn’t say anything right now.  He removed his hand from your wrist and reached into his suit jacket.  He pulled out a handkerchief – an actual cloth handkerchief, like some member of the landed gentry in a period piece, for fuck’s sake – and handed it to you without a word.  You took it but just stared at it; it was a blindingly snowy white, and it felt like a bridge too far to wipe your tear-stained face on it, especially with his embroidered initials staring back at you. 

When the elevator deposited you on the ground floor, Barba put his hand on your upper back lightly and steered you towards the ladies room, plucking his handkerchief from your hand and pushing you inside the bathroom. 

He didn’t follow, thank god.  You stood at the mirror and braced yourself against the sink.  You took deep breaths.  You pushed aside the mental image of Amanda and Sonny together.  Not just pushed – you shoved it into a box, taped it shut, and tossed it into a dark corner of your mind with the rest of the awful life experiences that you compartmentalized.  You were pretty good at it – you had lots of experience, after all.

You waited a long moment, just staring at your own reflection.  You felt like an idiot.  Of course Sonny would end up with Amanda.  And regardless of when it happened, it didn’t matter anymore.  You weren’t together. 

What did matter was keeping your composure, especially in front of people like the entire SVU squad and ADA Barba.

When you exited the bathroom, the latter was standing outside, waiting for you.  But if you expected him to smirk or gloat at your sudden show of emotion, you would be wrong.  He just stood there, sharp in his black three-piece suit, with a look of concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and he didn’t sound like he was teasing, so you nodded at him.

“You look like you need a drink,” he continued, and he gestured for you to walk with him.  You did.

“It’s only 11:30 in the morning,” you replied with a watery laugh, and he held the door for you as you both left the building.

“Lunch then,” he said.  He took your elbow and steered you out to the street.  “And a glass of wine wouldn’t hurt.”  You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off and led you towards a little Italian place on the corner.  “You’d be surprised how much smaller problems seem on a full stomach and a bit of pinot.”

You followed him mutely into the tiny restaurant, to the tiny table jammed against a wall.  You ordered a Caesar salad and allowed him to order you a glass of pinot, and he placed his order too.  When the waiter dropped off your drinks and left, you braced yourself for whatever snarky comments Barba had planned.

You were wrong again.  He didn’t even mention your dramatic scene at the 16th.  He asked how you liked being a public defender, then segued to talking about lawyers you both knew.  It turned out that you had a lot of mutual acquaintances – the law community of New York City and its surrounding environs was shockingly small.

When your food came, the conversation shifted to your individual experiences at law school.  It turned out that you were both scholarship kids and knew the divide it could cause with your fellow classmates.  You were both editors of your respective law reviews too.

“Though Harvard Law has a little more brand recognition,” you admitted with a small smile, and Barba only shrugged modestly and asked what topics you had written about.

It felt weird that it wasn’t weird, sitting across from your toughest opponent, eating lunch and chatting about things casually instead of bickering about plea arrangements.  And, to his credit, you had barely thought about Sonny and Amanda since you sat down to eat.  You’d have to revise your opinion of him as a pompous type.  Maybe a person could be pompous and nice.

The waiter bussed your empty dishes and dropped the check, which Barba took without comment and paid.  When you tried to protest, he made a snarky comment about your paltry salary as a public defender, so you glared at him.

You both stood to leave, and you each paused on the sidewalk in awkward silence.  You finally spoke up to thank him, and you hoped he knew it wasn’t just for the salad and wine.

He cleared his throat.  “It’s probably not what you’re thinking it is,” he said.  “But I know what you’re going through.”  He sighed, paused, then added, “everything will fall into place.”

You dropped your head and looked at your feet on the sidewalk.  “I don’t want your pity, Barba.”

He swung his briefcase to nudge it against your own satchel, making you look up at him.  “If you think for one second I’m going to go easy on you, Fordham Law, you have another thing coming,” he said with a smirk.  “No pity.  And no mercy either.”

“Bring it, Harvard Law,” you replied with a grateful smile.  His smirk turned into a smile in return, and he parted ways with you – he walked to the left, and you walked to the right.

-----

You kept the Sonny and Amanda situation carefully compartmentalized over the next month.  Sonny tried to talk to you once in the precinct, but you carefully kept the discussion focused on the new suspect you were representing.  He eventually stopped trying, and you had a way of unfocusing your gaze when it drifted over your ex-boyfriend and Amanda.

Work was busy, you ran a lot with your training group, and any time your mind drifted to those thoughts, you shoved them away by focusing on other things.

Barba, for example.  Still pompous, and not granting you an inch, as promised.  He was still your toughest ADA:  Callier was always open to reasonable deals, O’Dwyer ducked most of the cases you handled…but Barba always had fight in him.  You could put the best deal on the table and he’d still argue with you about it, layering in platitudes about the law and justice while accusing you of being a softy.

You argued at SVU, you argued in court.  You each got pulled into chambers and argued your points there.  Judge Hawkins, herself a champion smirker, watched the two of you bicker for a full five minutes before she interjected and told you to get a room.  Barba sputtered in shock, which allowed you to get your final point in without interruption, but Hawkins split the difference and only threw out half the evidence you were trying to get expunged.  It was still better than nothing.

You still glared at each other during court, but there was no real weight behind it.  He started calling you “Fordham Law” all the time, which was miles better than “Girl Wonder.”  In return, you started shaking his hand after trials concluded, even the ones where he won. 

And if you felt anything when his warm hand enveloped yours, you compartmentalized that too.

[good-beans]

HI @rainbowghostcat and @boxx-sama -- I have been enabled so I'm here to ramble a bit about my faves >:3 Top three are definitely Fuuta, Mahiru, and Yuno! Good taste gang !!🤝✨✨✨

It's a mix of enjoying their songs, genuinely getting into their stories, and relating to them just enough to go a little crazy asdfsd :') Shidou comes in at a close 4th, I love him a lot but I'm not as insane as I am about these guys lmao.

I was holding onto these asks to ramble when I had the time/energy but uuuuhhh I didn't mean to go on for so long sorry 😭 Woe, 03 06 02 thoughts be upon ye...

Starting with Fuuta!! His character has everything – He’s cool, he’s lame, he’s terrifying, he’s tragic, he’s funny, he’s unbearably real, he’s my silly little guy, he makes me cry, etc. The core of his character that always gets me is how normal he is. How he’s probably closest to the majority of the audience – he (and Kazui) are the only ones who did not have murder on their mind at all. He anticipated harm, but the thought of someone dying never once crossed his mind. He’s right around teens/early twenties. He engages with the online world a lot. So many milgram fans are in that age range, on the internet a lot (in order to enjoy the project and its fanbase), feel a strong sense of justice (since they’re so engaged in a project about morality), and aren’t in any situation dramatic enough that they expect anyone to die. He’s so much like all of us. 

Continuing on that, his heart really is in the right place to start. He cares deeply about people and society, which is why he wants to fix it. His vision is a bit small, focusing on petty issues rather than huge social issues, but the point is he cares. He attacks Es because he’s trying to be the brave representative after hearing Haruka and Yuno were attacked. He yells at Kazui and Mahiru because they’re not helping the others. He takes care of Haruka. He gives Mahiru a birthday gift even when he has nothing to give. 

His biggest issue is, he doesn’t belong. I’ve written up a whole analysis on how he’s written very neurodivergent: he misses social cues, he’s on the outskirts of friendships and groups. It’s more clear in characters like Haruka and Muu, but Fuuta is just as incredibly desperate for attention. For love. For that feeling of belonging in a group. His knightly fantasies aren’t ones of violence and weapons – they’re mostly scenes of him surrounded by a close-knit party of adventurers who are cheering him on. 

All of this together is what makes him so compelling and so tragic to me. All the characters are human and real, but he’s the closest to a lot of viewers (myself included). He let the attention get to his head for just a bit too long, let himself get swept away in finally having friends. He got distracted thinking that the focus of being a hero was defeating, and not protecting. And all it took was a brief time of getting drunk on this attention, and now he has a little girl’s blood on his hands. It makes me absolutely insane.

I also think he’s such a cool special case because he truly got a taste of his own medicine. The other characters are being judged in an unfamiliar way, but he is being scrutinized in the Exact same way that Fuuta pried open others’ privacy. He was attacked and almost died because of Es’ judgment, just as his victim was attacked because of his judgment. The process of Milgram is putting him in his victim’s shoes, and it’s so cool to see.

Aaaaand on a lighter note – he’s just so fun!! He’s my little skrunkly fr!!! I love his shit-eating grin. I love his ridiculous laugh. I love his crooked teeth. I love the knight theme, and the fire symbolism. It’s pretty standard, but it suits him perfectly. He’s got such cool, badass songs! I’m obsessed with his voice, both his singing and vd performances are incredible. His vds are the only ones I’ll listen to often and out of the blue – Arthur Lounsbery uses such an interesting and fun voice for him ;--; His design is so fun (apparently I have a Type for redhead characters…), and his t2 development and design were amazing! There has been no other Milgram character that I want to reach through the screen and shake violently by the shoulders and also hug so badly 😂

I’m so obsessed with her theme of ‘being so kind that it causes harm’!! Because it’s very easy to dismiss the other characters as unforgivable when you look at the harm they wanted to cause their victim, or disregard they had for their victim’s feelings. But Mahiru… she doesn’t want to cause any harm. At all. She took her boyfriend’s feelings into consideration so much so that she didn’t stop him when she definitely should have. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body and yet she fucked up big time!! It’s such a unique type of murder!! The other characters need to be sat down and told “don’t hurt innocents, don’t seek revenge, don’t be selfish, etc” and then Mahiru is over here like “don’t be… nice to people.” Because it’s not about being nice per se – it’s about not being a doormat. 

(I know her story is still a bit mysterious – my running theory is that her bf had health issues completely separate from their relationship. They started getting bad and he started to consider suicide. Instead of stopping him, Mahiru combined her need to copy her lover (as seen a lot in TIHTBILWY), her ideas that lovers do everything together, and her belief that one should do anything they set their mind to (as seen in her comments about Es/Kotoko and the attack). She says she’ll join him, make it a lovers’ suicide, but doesn’t follow through at the last second.)

She (and Mikoto) have really interesting themes of how not caring for yourself can actually hurt others. They put all their efforts into giving back to others, to society, fitting into the norms and expectations, not questioning others, and it backfires catastrophically. If she had stood up for herself and her relationship, she would not have assumed anyone deserved to die. She would have known that it wasn’t up to her alone to deal with her bf’s mental issues. She obviously wasn’t handling it correctly (rats….) but she didn’t need to! She should have pointed him to professionals instead of deciding she deserved to die along with him! But she was so poisoned by society’s expectations of being the perfect girlfriend and being considerate of others…

She’s just such a tragic case because the power of love is supposed to be perfect. She’s been taught her whole life that it’s wonderful and magical and pure. Who can kill with the power of love, after all? I can completely understand her denial of the situation, because I also wouldn’t picture a terrifying, dark scene if I knew I was only being nice for my whole life! 

And her crime aside – she’s super fun :3 She has The Most Fun songs, she’s full of energy and excitement and enthusiasm! (out of the various english covers I like, hers is the one I jam out to most often hehe). She’s the most stunning character there! I’m a sucker for sunshine-coded characters 🌻🌻🌻I think she has the best symbols out of everyone, between the birdcage and the carousel. The fact that both Mahiru and her bf could be the bird and the cage. The two symbols representing beautiful things that can be trapping. Representing cycles. Representing relationships. I know the hourglass is a popular one but I think this is Yamanaka's finest set of symbols. I am unwell about it. So yeah, rather than give her a good shake I want to yank her right out of there – Get in loser we’re gonna get you some self-love!!!!

And a slightly shorter rant on Yuno because that was a lot adfsdf. Ad I'm aware of the irony that one of my points is that it kinda sucks how most rants on Yuno are cut short :( The thing is, she’s been very honest about her crime, and most people have considered her issue in a context outside of Milgram so they already have a pretty good idea on where their vote stands. Despite being the “obvious” innocent one, she really is the most emotionally charged character imo. It’s easy to relate to the other characters and feel knee-jerk reaction, but none have been so widely discussed as abortion and sex work. I can talk openly about everyone else and get into a nice discussion on morals and emotions, but Yuno is the one character I have to talk very, very carefully around. Whether I’m rambling about Milgram to my family or interacting with new fans, I never know what’s acceptable to say without falling into a whole debate on politics.

So, if it’s made me into someone who keeps quiet and skirts around things, I shudder to imagine the amount of lying/masking Yuno herself must do on a daily basis. I can easily avoid the topic if I choose to – she was dealing with that debate long before coming to Milgram, and is currently dealing with debates and judgements and insults and pity surrounding it. She’s naturally strong so I think fans often forget all the shit that this 18yo is dealing with on a daily basis, and how effortless she’s making it look <3

[captainofthetidesbreath]

Curious about what every blurb on the CritRole Oracle of the Moon Instagram filter is but don't want to sit there rolling it until you get all of them? Well, I did that for you! Below, the cards are each listed as upright (blue label), then reverse (yellow label), and their names are all bolded. Couple of notes as well. This deck is currently and newly for sale in the Critical Role shop.

The Anvil: To forge. To strengthen. To gather what is needed. The Sword: To wield. A show of might.

The Eye: Divine inspiration. Contemplation. Higher realms. The Hand: Practicality. Labour. The mortal plane.

Moon: A glamour. A beautiful story the truth wears. An illusion. Mirror: A reveal. A bitter truth. Something hiding in the shadows.

Spark: Something is responsible for this. Maybe you, maybe some asshole. Blaze: Sometimes there are consequences. Sometimes they hurt.

Jewel: Wealth. Desire. The thing you want most. Thief: What you seek is not where you think it is, and it may be a tricky quest.

Dawn: There's always hope. And the darkness leads to light.... Death: I mean this basically means death, ok? But that's not necessarily a bad thing! (In the booklet for the deck itself, "Dawn" reads: "There's always hope. And the darkness leads to light. New beginnings.")

The Crone: Experience. Perspective. Maybe like, really long arms. The Maiden: Youth. Innocence. Exuberance. Cupcakes. (It is "The Hag" in-game rather than "The Crone".)

Tavern: Respect. A meeting. Negotiation. Lust: Desire. Indulgence (Depicts the Gentleman, by Molly.)

Joy: Play. Delight. Dance. Festivity. Poetry. Song. Chaos: Chance. A cacophony. Things may have gotten out of hand. (Depicts Jester.)

Love: It binds us, it frees us. What else needs be said? Temple: Consecration. Healing. Awe and reverence. (Depicts Yasha.)

The Fool: The actor. The hero. Cleverness. The Soldier: Authority. Submission. Rigidity. (Depicts Molly, by Molly.)

Dream: The future. Infinite possibility. The unknowable. History: The past. Calamity. Immutable.

Sacrifice: Payment. The fulfillment of a debt. That which is owed. Hunger: Unfulfilled need. An act of survival.

Growth: Life. Blossoming. Of the earth. To plant. Spring and Summer. Rot: Entropy. Things fall apart. To reap. Autumn and Winter. (Depicts Caduceus.)

Bond: Trust. Brotherhood. An oath. A sense of belonging. Betrayer: Deceit. Self-destruction. Weakness. Fear. Loneliness.

Home: Family. Familiarity. A beginning or ending. Traveler: The open road. An unexpected encounter. A stranger.

The Judge: Justice. Righteous authority. Metallic. The Tyrant: Avarice. Tyranny. Chromatic.

The Sky: Safe passage. Uninterrupted vision. The Sea: The lurking danger. Unclear and hostile depths. (Depicts Fjord, Fjord is upwards at "The Sky" and apparently Uk'otoa, then unnamed to Molly, is upwards at "The Sea".)

The Book: Fact. Preparation. Forthrightness. The Rumor: Guile. Wisdom. Improvisation. (Depicts Beau, she's depicted twice in the style of a playing card and upwards on both sides.)

Tinker: Technology. Science. Progress. Discovery. Magician: Magic, beyond mortal understanding. (Depicts Veth as Nott and Caleb.)

Also, for fun, the wiki has an article for the deck as it exists in-game, if you're curious about that.

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕚 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪, 𝕚'𝕞 𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕩

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ʀᴇx x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ���ᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ʀᴇx ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ʟᴇᴀᴠɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀʀɪᴇᴅ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ʜᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴊᴜʀʏ, ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ/ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴏ, ʟɪɢʜᴛ-ɪꜱʜ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ, ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜱᴇx (ꜰ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ), ꜱʜᴏᴡᴇʀ ꜱᴇx, ᴍᴇɴ ᴄʀʏɪɴɢ, ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀɪᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʙᴀɢɢᴀɢᴇ, ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 6.2ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ɪɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʙᴇʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴄʜʀɪꜱᴛᴍᴀꜱ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛ, ᴍʏ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛʏ ʏᴇᴛ ꜱɪᴍᴜʟᴛᴀɴᴇᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰʏ ʀᴇx ʜᴜʀᴛ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴛ. ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ꜰɪᴄ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ꜱᴏ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴀʟʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ.

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

Rex didn’t think she’d be up.

The humming of landing cargo ships and flights of troops had died down on the docks and the thrumming melodic march of clones had stopped hours ago. The 501st had gone back so late from their disastrous mission, General Skywalker didn’t even bother debriefing before sending them all off. Jesse or one of his other rambunctious brothers would typically propose going down to 79’s for a round of drinks to relieve the stress that pent up in their shoulders, but not that time; the life had been sucked out of all of them. Especially Rex.

But despite the failure and upset, the early release by Skywalker gave Rex an excuse to immediately go to her. He could strip himself down to just his boxers and let the warmth expanse of his chest warm her soft, shivering skin in her freezing apartment. She insisted she kept it that cold to save on the cost of running warm air, but he thought it barbaric. How could she put herself through such hell just to cheapen her expenses? Sure, the barracks he and his brothers slept in normally ran colder, but it was simply a way of military. His body ran warm by biology. But hers didn't. And he couldn't bear to imagine her shivering for warmth under the covers when he wasn't there to keep her body at stable temperatures.

At that time at night, she’d typically be asleep. Her apartment complex certainly was; the only sound that echoed through the halls was the droning of some late night holo broadcast. It got louder and louder as he took large, but careful steps to her apartment. He took out his copy of her keys, slotted it in, but as he gently pushed on the door it fell ajar. He hissed.

That can’t be right. She knew better than to leave her door unlocked overnight, when she was at her most vulnerable and easy to attack state. If he was there, if only he was there to lock the door, he’d hold her close, his body between her and the door and whisper softly in her ear how important it is to stay safe, how he’d never forgive himself if something were to happen to her.

He rushed in, despite being so tired he could’ve passed out, worried that she'd see her on the floor, bloodied and injured, or even worse, not there; all her belongings strewn around the apartment. But instead his eyes locked on to hers. She was leaning against the couch cushions but sat on the floor, her messy hair and tired, droopy face only illuminated by the blue light of the holo broadcast she had on in front of her. Her eyes snapped to his and they both immediately softened. Rex could feel all his limbs untense at seeing her.

She was the type of beautiful that he couldn’t even put into words most days; despite constantly expressing his feelings of love and adoration on her appearance and body, it never seemed to truly do her justice in his opinion. She was delicate but firm at the same time. Sometimes it felt like he could lightly caress her and she could shatter into a thousand pieces. Those days were the same nights he’d take her apart with his fingers and tongue and cock, whispering to her words he wished were more eloquent and poetic. She was so soft and nimble, careful and loving to him he couldn’t believe she was even real. But there were also nights she was firm in his arms, gripping onto him like Rex was the last thing holding her between a line of life and death. She’d whisper similar things; how he broke her apart and split her open, place himself in her body, in her cunt and in her heart. But she seemed so tough despite. Rex could never get enough of it.

But now, as she looked up at him with tired eyes and a worried crease in her eyebrows, he couldn’t quite place how her skin might feel if he were to touch her. Soft or hard, sweet or addicting. She whined, feeble and relieved and she stood up. Her body ached; he could feel it from a yard away, but she still kept herself up and walked toward him. He met her in the middle, his still armor clad hands holding her cheeks. His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, which was bitten to shreds. She always had that as a bad habit; and he wasn't there to correct her before it was too late.

“Rex…” She muttered. Her hands came up as well, to grip at the chin of his bucket. Dank farrik, he had been so focused on just getting to her and being in her arms, he hadn’t taken off his helmet. “You’re back.”

“And you’re up,” Rex responded to her, a little too quick and automatic. He pulled away for just a moment to get a good grip on her wrist and led her to the front entrance. When they arrived at the door, still ajar from when he had stormed in, she only tilted her head. He groaned softly, frustrated. “You left the door open.”

She blinked and reached for the door, taking the knob in her hand. Not looking up at him, she whispered softly an apology.

“I must’ve forgot.”

She went to close and lock it, but Rex stood there with her.

“Cyare…” He said. He reached over and held her at her waist. The bare skin of her midriff practically lit on fire at the contact with his armor. “You can’t just forget to lock the door.”

She turned around in his arms, with a drowsy look of obliviousness on her face. He’d want to groan and be annoyed at her lack of competence, but he wasn’t thinking so straight either; it was too late at night for either of them to be up and having a serious conversation of safety.

“But nothing happened,” She said, going to bite at her lip again. He quickly pulled her lip away from her teeth and shook his head.

“Kriff, you-” He stopped himself from talking so gruffly. Rex sighed and pulled himself in closer to her, still fully covered head to toe in armor, and softly held her cheek. She melted into his embrace. “I shouldn’t have to explain this, baby.”

The pet name came out like sweet sugar on his tongue. He’d never really called her that out of the bedroom, and only then would it be grunted through so raggedly you could barely make it out. This time, it was full and clear and thoughtful.

Her face fell completely into his hand, closing her eyes in a way that looked like she was fighting her body to not keep them open. She whined again.

“I know,” She whispered, her forehead still worried with wrinkles. Her mouth met the palm of his hand piece, and she kissed it. Rex could’ve sworn he felt it through the layers of metal. “I know, I’m sorry.”

He sighed defeated, moving the hand to hold at her chin, so it didn’t roll back to a somewhat lifeless position it wanted to go.

“Don’t apologize,” He said firmly, but not mean. She tried to give him a smile, but she could barely manage to lift the corner of her lips up. A sickly grin came out. But in her freezing, stark apartment, it warmed Rex’s heart to a temperature not even the hottest days on Tatooine could compete with.

Her hand found his forearm and she led him slowly to her room, opening the door for him and not bothering to turn on the light. In the dark, still only illuminated by the light coming from the holo broadcast still playing in the other room, Rex stripped himself of his heavy armor, grunting and groaning when the pieces finally came out and left him only in scuffed up blacks. She helped him, tutting and clicking her tongue disapprovingly at every deep cut, scab, and rip in his clothes.

“Rex,” She said, one of her thumbs landing on a scab over his wrist and trailing the pad of her finger over it. “How did this happen?”

He grunted as a response, but it wasn’t good enough for her.

“It was a bad mission.”

It still didn’t seem to satisfy her, but no other words came out of him as he got out of his armor. He left the helmet for last, and as she pressed against him, her torso and pelvis against his, both of her hands on either side of the bucket, he hesitated and pulled back. She blinked.

“What’s wrong?”

He stayed silent.

“Rex, baby…”

She pulled the same game he did before; using sweet little words that made him melt in her arms. She didn’t use nicknames for him often. It made the times she did an extra amount special. He finally softened in her grasp enough that she was able to lift the helmet off of his head.

The gasp she let out wasn’t as loud in his plugged ears as it actually was. But her hands on his bare skin brought him out of the trance.

He looked at her, naked eyes glued to each other, and he blinked away the sudden tears that came to his face. He couldn’t bear to imagine what might happen if he burst into tears in front of her. He was her protector, her guardian; he couldn’t fall apart in her presence.

But he was so close to.

She went to press his forehead against his, but couldn’t, for the blood that dripped down the side of his face and the gash that covered a good stretch of his hairline had stained his face maroon. A dollop of fresh blood dripped down to his chin. More cuts and scratches adorned his handsome, smoldered face. He’d always been a soldier coming home from war to her, but in their state, late at night and unable to compose themselves, it felt so raw. Unadulterated. Something she had seen before, yes, but never so… undisguised. It practically broke her heart. And he could see it in her eyes.

“Who did this to you?” She asked in a hushed whisper. Her hands came to his shoulders, one of the only parts of his gashed body that wasn’t cut open and massaged them tenderly. It only brought out a low groan from the back of his throat, but no words.

She sniffled. A part of her wanted to stomp her feet and scream, frustrated she couldn’t do for him what he needed. Not if he didn’t talk. He just looked at her with the same amber eyes that were cracked like glass and tears glossed over. She pressed her thumbs hard into his pressure points.

“Why didn’t you go to the medbay?”

Her words and her touch finally coaxed out a loud gulp and his raspy voice,

“I’m fine, cyare,” He said, his hands coming to her waist. He rocked her slowly toward the foot end of her bed. “Let’s just sleep. We’ll go to bed and deal with it when the sun is up.”

Her mouth fell open.

“No,” She refused in a whisper yell, holding onto him tighter. “Baby, you’re hurt.”

His words were even more coarse, if it were possible.

“I told you that I’m fine.” His head dipped down, his chin meeting the top of his chest to hide the anguish over his face. “This happens every time. It’s just in the job.”

Despite his rank in his battalion, they both knew the job meant the task he was bred for; die for the republic. They had talked about it before, usually as the talk that came after a long night at the 79’s. Whenever she joined him and the rest of his brothers, Rex never drank. He became her protector the whole night and once they came home. She’d try to unbuckle his belt, but he'd stop her, and instead the two would talk. And in her intoxicated state, it was when he’d finally say things he had been so scared about saying before. The insecurity he always held deep down with her about his life, more specifically his life with her. How he’d die long before she would and must leave her sooner than later to ease the pain. His feeling of undeserving of his life, undeserving of her love when he was only bred and trained to fight and die for a cause he didn’t even truly believe in, deep, deep, down in his heart. Rex only told her these things when she was drunk; he did it on purpose. Not maliciously, no, but because he didn’t want to deal with what she might say back if she was sober. He guessed that made him just as cowardly as the new cadets he always criticized.

“No, it isn’t,” Her words pierced him and his eardrums finally popped as if it was timed. He pulled his head up and looked in her eyes. “I know it isn’t. You can’t go to bed like this. I can't let you bleed out. Say you’re expendable, but this is not how you’ll die.”

Before he knew it, a thin tear fell down his face and he sighed out a breath deep from his longs. His eyes fluttered close and his eyebrows pushed together. He wanted to knead them with his own hands, but he felt so tired, so done in her arms.

Suddenly, he felt a feather light kiss over his eyelids. First his left, then his right, and he opened his eyes again. She was now teary-eyed too.

“C’mon,” She said; her hands went down to hold his, despite them being bloodied. “Let me take care of you.”

He licked his lips, the metallic stinging of his blood making him wince.

“Okay,” He said, absentmindedly. She grinned softly, the same look as before and he let her take him to the bathroom off the side of her room. “Okay, cyare.”

She flipped the lights on; the blinding radiance of the overhead bathroom light made Rex shut his eyes and cover them with his hand. She laughed softly and led him, his eyes still closed, to sit on the toilet seat.

When his eyes got adjusted, he finally opened them, but not to see her. He almost panicked for a moment. In his state of tiredness, he was almost unable to comprehend anything else happening besides her holding him. But his eyes fell to the drawers beneath the sink and saw her fumbling through them, throwing first aid supplies onto the counter without much thought in it. She hummed anxiously, and put her hands on her hips. She looked over at him apologetically.

“Will you give me a moment?”

He breathed nervously.

Her hand cupped his cheek, but he pulled back. She looked at her own palm; it was now covered in some of the fresh blood that dripped down him. Rex groaned.

“I’m making a mess.”

“No, you’re not,” She assured, turning around and cleaning the blood onto a white towel, leaving it stained in a passionate red. He sighed. “Give me a second, I need to get a cloth for this.” She told him.

He told her okay, take your time, and let her scurry off to grab a cloth to clean him with from somewhere else. But as he sat there, an omniscient hum in his ear that deafened the sound of her footsteps in the house, Rex became wracked with guilt. It had all been his fault; for making her stay up late. He saw the way she hid the bags under her eyes with makeup in the day, but he saw it almost every night they spent together when the layers came off; he kept her up at night. He left her anxiously rocking her legs and cracking her knuckles, clicking her tongue like she was the clock ticking the time; waiting and counting patiently until he came home. He pained her in a way he couldn’t even imagine, despite the torment his own mind dragged him through. His love tortured her enough, it seemed.

When she returned, a pile of neatly folded washing cloth in her arms and antibacterial liquid, he lowered his chin and asked in a deeply apologetic mutter,

“Why were you up?”

“Huh?” She hummed, drowsily oblivious. He wanted to groan, but he knew he mustn’t snap; unless he wanted to hurt the both of them more.

Her fingers came to his chin and she lifted his head up to meet her as she stood. Her other hand, holding the cloth dipped in the liquid, came to dab at the wounds, in that same happy medium he saw in her from before; not soft, but not very rough either. He winced, but not much; the pain he felt in his heart at that moment couldn’t be matched.

“Why were you awake?” He asked again. His lips barely moved, but the words came out articulate. She blinked and shook her head, bit her lip quickly before quickly stopping herself from instinct.

“I couldn’t sleep,” She said. She then shrugged, so carelessly and lying that he could barely handle it.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He said. Rex wasn’t going to let her off the hook.

She didn’t respond for a long moment.

“Cyare.”

“I was waiting for you,” She finally answered truthfully, an ached soreness coming out with her words. He felt relieved to finally hear the words from her, but it didn’t relieve the ache in his own body.

“You don’t have to do that,” He insisted, his eyes falling closed just a little as she began to wash off the dried and bleeding blood. Her other hand came up with a napkin, pressing firm into the gash to try and stop the bleeding.

“I want to,” She said. He shook his head, but she held the sides of his head back into place. Their eyes met and he wanted to melt, or fall into her arms. His instinct told him to just kiss it out, fuck it out, anything but have to tell her that his dedication to the Republic was hurting her.

“Who told you that?” He asked, persistent. Despite his eyes being half lidded as he looked up at her, he could see every little detail of her face clearly.

She shrugged, softer this time and less careless. It hurt less. It felt more like an answer than a dismiss. Despite him being gone a lot, and long time gaps between when they get to see each other more often than not, he practically memorized every little detail about her.

“No one did,” She said. Rex thought she might go on, but instead she went back to diligently clean up his face, her eyes so focused the whites no longer look reddened from lack of sleep. It was almost like she restored her energy from it; like her energy was being restored from being around him more often than not.

Neither spoke while she finished cleaning his face. She closed the gash that had gone across his hairline and gotten rid of the blood that dripped down his face. All the scratches were wiped away to healing patches and the rip on his bottom lip was gone. Or at least it felt so. Her hands, the perfect final remedy to his body, trailed over his face, admiring her work. She dipped down and her lips captured his.

Rex wasn’t expecting it. He was certain there wouldn't be any other state he could’ve been to be prepared for it. But the kiss wasn’t a bad surprise either. He wanted to bring his hands up as well, trail them over her body and pin her against the wall, forget this whole thing kriffing happened, but instead he sat wide eyed as her lips met his. They did flutter close, and he came rather quickly to find her touch warming in a way Rex had never felt before.

When they broke apart, she finally spoke.

“No one did.” She repeated.

He sighed, but it came out more of a groan. Her hands dropped down to the bottom hem of his blacks, looking so disapproving of the little scratches that cut through the fabric. As her hands gripped the soft hem of his shirt, he lifted up his arms and let her slowly peel it off. His skin immediately prickled at the cold air of her apartment. Still in this time of complete vulnerability he managed to get annoyed at how cold her apartment really was.

“Here,” She muttered, going over and holding the shower curtain open. “You should clean up.”

Rex grunted and pushed himself off the toilet seat, watching her diligently as she turned on the water and ran her fingers through the spray the shower head let out, waiting for it to turn warm. He took careful steps until his hands rested on her waist, no longer caring for the stains it might leave. His mouth rested above her ear, his breath a warm gush of air on her neck.

“Join me,” He whispered to her, in the insistent and needy tone she knew was trouble. Not that she didn’t enjoy the kind of trouble he was implying, but even he should’ve known it wasn’t the time.

She slipped away from his grasp and shook her head, persistent. Rex practically whined, following her movements around the bathroom with his arms open.

“You should clean yourself up,” She argued, but her hands couldn’t resist coming to the very top of his chest, where his pecs met his collarbone. “I’ll only distract you.”

She didn’t even realize she was being backed up until the backs of her calves met the marble that separated the flooring from the shower.

“I want you to distract me,” Rex insisted, taking her wrists. She clicked her tongue and one hand came up to rest on his shoulder. “Cyare. Please distract me from everything.”

She wanted to say no, because deep inside her she wanted him to talk. Tell her what happened and what was going on in that pretty little head of his. Instead of keeping it to himself and the nights when she would be too drunk to respond, and then too nervous to say anything about it

Despite all of it that plagued her mind, she couldn’t say no to him.

“Okay.” Rather rushed, her hands came to the hem of her shirt and she lifted it effortlessly, leaving her breasts fully exposed. She then pulled both her sweats and panties down. Following her actions, Rex took off his blacks and boxers. She pushed the shower curtain away and stepped in, guiding Rex in gently before her hands went to his closely cropped bleached hair. It had grown out just a little since he had last cut it, making it possible for her to sink her fingers in and tug at them insistently. He groaned deep from his chest when she did, his neck being sprayed by the warm water.

“Kriff,” Rex muttered as his hands came up to brush against her bare hips. She sighed and brought her arms up, letting her hands meet behind his head. She rocked her slowly, like they were both slow dancing in the rain, or just the spray of the shower. “You’re perfect, you know that right?”

She smiled, the first real smile of the night and shook her head.

“`M not perfect,” She said, and he tutted before pushing her against the wall, taking her thigh and bringing it over his hip. That’s when she could feel him. His whole length, warm and hard against her lower stomach. When she whimpered, her entrance dampening, he nipped at her ear.

“You’re perfect to me,” Rex said, softly kissing the shell of her ear. He rocked slowly against her, trying to relieve himself of the ache that they’d created between both of their legs. “For me. To me. Always good to me.” When her hand crept up again to tug at his hair, he groaned softly into her ear.

“Rex…” She muttered. He pulled away from her side and looked her in the eye. He rocked his hips forward, his tip running over her lower lips up and down, and she moaned softly.

“Please, cyare.” He could see how the worry creases only got darker when he winced trying to pull back from her. This is what he needed. It’s what they both needed, he was sure, to get this whole kriffing situation out of their heads. “I… I need this.”

For a second Rex thought she was going to continue to push back on him, but she finally softened and let her face relax. Her hand came down and took him in her hand, softly stroking him with a sense of love and thoughtfulness so strong, stronger than he’d ever felt it in her touch. She readjusted so the tip was nuzzled into the shallows of her entrance and then looked up at him with doe eyes. His forehead pressed to hers and he groaned in satisfaction. Finally, he could just feel his skin on hers. Get lost in her body and not come up until dawn. Then, he could be able to talk through it with her. Alleviate any anxieties that could possibly be plaguing her mind.

“Then just fuck me already,” She rasped out.

With that, any sense of self restraint broke down. He pushed into her, and like two pieces of hot glass they melded into each other. She moaned, but it was quiet over the sound of his own heart beating. He was trying so hard to get lost in her, that Rex was finding himself getting lost in his own.

He stilled in her, relishing in the warmth that rushed through his body. Not just from the hot water either. He dipped down, looking at her teary eyed and mouth open. Leaving a soft kiss on her lips, he began to roll his hips slowly into her. She sighed.

“Oh…” It came out of her mouth inadvertently, unintentionally. She seemed a disarray under him. But Rex couldn’t seem to make out the exact emotion on her. Fucking would clear it all away though. They could go to bed cuddled up to each other and forget any of this ever happened.

The grip he held on her thigh slipped and she bounced her higher up; he had more access to her soft, unmarked neck. He kept thrusting as he nipped at it. She tugged at his hair again.

Rex groaned.

“Just like that, ner kar’ta,” He rasped, biting at her skin with his front teeth. She gasped, her thighs clenching harder around his waist, pushing his cock in deeper. She moaned, louder at the stretch. It had been so long since they were together like this, so close and sweet and vulnerable.

Rex started to move more, harder and faster, holding her against the shower wall firm and hid his face under her jaw. She could feel the resistance in his body; everything in him was telling him to lay down, rest or open himself in a way he hasn’t that night. But with every thrust he pushed against it. He was too rough for the softness his body begged for.

“I…” The word came out like a mistake from her lips. Rex ignored it, moving his hand so his thumb rested over her clit and rubbed in the part she needed the most with every roll of his hips. She gasped, and moaned against him, her forehead coming to rest against his.

“I worry,” It finally came out. His eyes opened and met hers, which were blown wide and filled with tears. “I want you to talk.”

He stopped for just a moment, processing it, trying to let it sink into his skin and his mind, but then he only thrusted again. She sighed and closed her eyes.

“You… you’ll fuck me like talking it out isn’t an option.” Her nails scratched an itch in his scalp he didn’t now he had and trailed down his neck, to the strong muscles of his back, using it as a rock as he continued to fuck her. “But it is.”

He groaned, from pleasure and from anguish simultaneously, unable to separate the two in his state. Before he knew it, a tear fell down his face, because he knew what she was saying was true.

“It is, but for some reason you think it isn’t…” She said weakly, almost drowned out completely by the water. “And you, oh-”

Her body twitched at one movement, and Rex knew he had found the spot. He knew it would set them back if he kept going, but he had to. If it meant he could feel her quivering thighs around him. He thrusted and hit the spot again, but not with the energy he could’ve. Because still, the part of him that needed to hear what she was saying held him back.

“Y-you should know, I want you to know so kriffing bad,” She practically sobbed , and it broke Rex’s heart. “I’m here, and I want to help you. I’d never let you hurt yourself like this. Fall asleep next to you knowing you’re hurt. I stay up and wait, and you still don’t know why…”

She caught her breath and moaned again when his nail lightly scratched over her clit. He was shaking as well. Both of them were close.

“I worry, Rex.”

With that, he came deep inside her. He knew it was probably unwise to finish inside her without pulling out, but he didn’t have the space to think about that. He kept rocking into her slowly, and she bucked into him, trying to reach her peak as well. But when he softened and pulled out, she rubbed her inner thighs despondent.

When she looked up at him, tears had stained his face. His eyes were shut so hard it could’ve etched permanent marks. His breath shallow, he finally peeled open one eyelid, saw the precipice he left her on, and immediately dropped down to his knees.

He ate her out for what felt like years, cleaning up her blemished thighs and holding her in place until she finally came as well. She could barely hold herself up, but he did all the hard work, her thighs over his shoulders as he continued to lazily lick circles as the aftershocks of her orgasm crashed over her.

Despite the pressure her thighs had over his ears and the thrumming of the shower, he could still hear her clearly repeat, over and over.

“I worry, I worry, and I'm sorry.”

Rex finally came up for air and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing the crown of her head.

“I know you do,” He finally said, and she sighed, a mix between defeated and relieved.

She grabbed a tub of shampoo, and languidly began to lather his hair with it. His eyes fluttered close and he groaned, satisfaction that ran deeper than the warm touch flowing through his veins. He poured some into his hands as well and washed her, slowly gathering all of her hair and taking extra care to assure that none of it got into her eyes. As they cleaned each other up, lovingly and without any rush, he asked her:

"Can you make a promise for me?"

She nodded eagerly.

"I don't want you to worry," He shook his head, disapproving at the mere idea of her having to worry another day about him. "And I'd do anything so you don't..."

He let out a shaky breath, before he said what she had been dying, wishing to hear for far too long.

"I'll talk to you. Kriff, I'll tell you everything about my day. Every single detail. The good stuff, the bad stuff, all of it. Nothing left out. Can you please promise me, you won't worry? That you won't stay up late at night waiting for me?"

She wrapped her arms tight and secure around his neck, looking up at him and blinking away tears that threatened to fall down her face.

"A-As long as you talk," She said. "And you let me take care of you the way you deserve."

With that, Rex nodded, and kissed her hard and sweet under the water, gripping onto her like she was the only thing keeping him afloat. Her hands came up to his hair and continued scrubbing out the hair products, still methodically cleaning him. Once they broke away, she fully got back to work giving him everything she could.

“We lost Friar,” He told her as she was disinfecting cuts over his stomach. An outlying droplet of conditioner fell down the side of his face, but he couldn’t find the energy to wash it away. It dripped down his chin and onto her chest as he spoke. “He was that shiny I told you about. The one that always insisted he get all the boys’ cafs. Never got an order wrong once.”

He continued to list the brothers he lost that mission. In all the crossfire and colliding with cascading rocks on the canyon covered planet they found themselves on. Sev, their medic in action had been trying to patch up the gash on Rex’s face when he got shot down by some clankers. Commander Tano and Bits had gotten cornered by a mountainous beast not even the most educated of their battalion could identify and Bits had taken it down before getting impaled. A shiny who hadn’t even gotten his name yet lost his hand. The mission had left so many of his brothers littered over the grounds, and for what? They were told there was a separatist base, yet there was not one in sight. General Skywalker with his force sensitivity couldn’t even sniff it out.

“It just…” He gasped out, suddenly overcome with a strong feeling in his gut. “Just reminded me how expendable me and my brothers are. How worthless we are to the Republic. And I almost forgot…”

“Stop,” she interrupted. Her hands came up to push away water that fell down his face and looked into his amber eyes. “People like the chancellor have obviously never met a clone. They’ve never met you.”

He pursed his lips before he relaxed and sighed. His eyes fluttered a bit, almost closing, but they stayed glued to hers.

“You’re the least ‘expendable’ person I've met. In every definition.” She went on her tip toes and pulled him down to give him a full kiss on his lips. “You know the name of every one of your brothers in the 501st. I'm sure I could quiz you and you’d get a perfect 100.” That was able to crack a smile on his face, brightening them both. “When you arrive home before me, you set out clothes and a towel. You never finish anything in the kitchen. Even if there's barely any left, you leave it for me to finish. You're one of the greatest things that's happened to me.”

Rex almost couldn’t believe what she was saying. For once, unlike all the nights he spent pouring out those thoughts while she was drunk, she responded. And it was exactly what he had hoped she’d say. What he imagined her saying in scenarios late at night if she fell asleep before him and left him to think. Somehow, she managed to be even more perfect for him.

He was so lost in her eyes and the world she created for the two of them, it took him a few moments to notice that she turned the shower off and guided him out. He blinked and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist, watching as she dried herself off and grabbed her hairbrush. He stood behind her, almost like a looming tower over her body as she softly brushed her hair, letting it rest on her bare shoulders as she pulled on the panties and sweatpants she left on the cold tiles of the bathroom.

“Come to bed with me?” He asked. She grinned, shaking her head, but they both knew she wasn’t refusing. It was rare that she could say no to Rex in this state.

She quickly flicked off the lights, put on a shirt (which just so happened to be one of his that he always liked to leave at her place), and followed him devoutly before falling into his embrace on the bed. The moment she was fully wrapped in his tight hug, his arms hard and warm against her cold skin, she had no worries running through her mind.

“You’re perfect, you know,” He said, lovingly stroking her hair behind her ear. “Have my whole heart. Ner kar’ta, cyar’ika.”

She smiled into his neck and traced circles on his shoulder blade, finally feeling truly warm in the cold depths of her apartment the whole night.

"Yet you say that like you're not."