#always accepting prompts

[jmflowers]

Tumblr Prompt Party Masterpost

The original prompt concept (April 26, 2022)

prompt #1 | when you were young, you used to dream about fires (forest fire by Brighton) - (April 26, 2022) | Maya and Carina's son has a nightmare, Expanded to "Fire - March 2027" (May 22, 2022)

prompt #2 | no one else is such a beautiful dream to me (The Beautiful Dream by George Ezra) - (April 28, 2022) | Maya with her 6-week-old son, Expanded to "Beautiful Dream - April 2023" (May 7, 2022)

prompt #3 | home, where my heart is full. home, where I don't feel away or cold. (Joy of Little Things by When Chai Met Toast) - (April 29, 2022) | Maya returns home to Carina and their toddler son, Expanded to "Home - July 2025" (May 8, 2022)

prompt #4 | it's okay if you can't catch your breath, you can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest (two by Sleeping at Last) - (May 1, 2022) | Carina faces a traumatic moment

prompt #5 | dinosaurs, dinosaurs, oh, I love dinosaurs (Dinosaur Song by Blippi) - (May 2, 2022) | Maya and Carina's son teaches his mommy a few things, Expanded to "Dinosaurs - May 2029" (May 15, 2022)

prompt #6 | when everything feels heavy, I've learned to travel light (seven by Sleeping at Last) - (June 10, 2022) | Maya and Carina's kids get into trouble at school, Sneak peak from "Travel Light - June 2025 to December 2032" (July 4, 2022)

prompt #7 | no song - (July 9, 2022) | Maya and Carina prepare for their son's first birthday

prompt #8 | I feel it all and I can't stop it, wish that I could turn my faucet loose (Begging for Rain by Maggie Rogers) - (August 11, 2022) | Maya and Carina's daughter calls her brother for support, Sneak peak from a WIP

prompt #9 | it's never easy, you and me, but we deserve this (Perfect People by Becky Hill) - (August 29, 2022) | Maya comes home to Carina after a tough call, Expanded to "Here - Fall 2022" (November 27, 2022)

prompt #10 | been a while since someone met me in the middle (Feels So Easy by Ber) - (October 11, 2022) | The kids argue about accents

prompt #11 | no song - (December 11, 2022) | The outline of a fic not written: Maya and Carina prepare to expand their family

prompt #12 | no song - (December 28, 2022) | Maya and Carina's son learns how to be a big brother, Expanded to "Everlasting - October 2025 to January 2028" (January 1, 2023)

prompt #13 | just tell me how to love you better (Running Out of Love by Seafret) - (January 9, 2023) | Snippet from a WIP not yet finished, Maya and Carina in bed together after a difficult few days

prompt #14 | write something silly for me - (January 10, 2023) | A conversation between Maya and Carina about their rambunctious daughter

prompt #15 | an angsty three-sentence fic expanded (January 11, 2023)

prompt #16 | and it felt like I was home, just the two of us alone (Inside Out by Zedd, Griff) - (January 22, 2023) | a quiet moment between Maya and Carina that was cut from Risk

prompt #17 | no song - (February 5, 2023) | an alternate version of the dad thing that wasn't used for Risk

prompt #18 | if you're mad, stay mad (February 20, 2023) | a cut scene from Risk that would've fit into those missing few months

prompt #19 | soulmates/solemates AU (February 22, 2023) | an intentionally ridiculous trope fic about socks and love (posted to AO3 on May 14, 2024)

prompt #20 | febricity (posted May 30, 2023 - written April 12, 2022) | noun: the quality or state of being feverish

prompt #21 | tofu (June 22, 2023) | Maya makes her teenage children some "dinner"

prompt #22 | pasta (January 28, 2024) | Maya in the kitchen with their children

prompt #23 | you found a way to stay next to me, in my blood and in my bones (Everywhere I Go by Wild Rivers) - (March 2, 2024) | Carina processes some residual grief

prompt #24 | never stops moving (March 18, 2024) | Vic remarks on Beatrice's Bishop qualities

prompt #25 | picky eater (April 13, 2024) | Carina grows frustrated with the limited list of foods their toddler will consume

prompt #26 | kitchen renovations (April 14, 2024) | Maya and Carina buy some tile (but I should've given them sledgehammers)

prompt #27 | appliance shopping (April 14, 2024) | Hygge Universe, a pregnant Carina gets frustrated with Maya's shopping techniques

prompt #28 | canon casual intimacy (April 14, 2024) | Maya and Carina wander through their new neighbourhood

prompt #29 | first time (April 15, 2024) | Liam has a fever

prompt #30 | the scene we never got (April 17, 2024) | Maya and Carina find their home (in screenwriting format)

prompt #31 | learning Italian (April 26, 2024) | Carina stumbles upon Maya and Liam on DuoLingo

prompt #32 | Blindfold (May 15, 2024) | Maya and Carina and that scene at the end of 7.07

prompt #33 | "Ew, Andrea..." (May 28, 2024) | Maya and Carina's Hygge Universe children have a discussion on the couch

Additional Hygge Universe Stories:

Hold You Up | October 2025 | Carina leans into Maya as they adjust to being mothers of two (May 28, 2022)

Strong Enough | May 2025 | Maya and Carina navigate the fear of replicating childhood traumas (August 24, 2022)

Tethered | June 2027 | Maya and Carina make another attempt at vacation and relaxation being synonymous (September 12, 2022)

Christmas | Winter 2027 | Maya and Carina learn how to (and how not to) celebrate Christmas with their two young children (December 23, 2022)

Risk | May 2033 to August 2043 | Maya and Carina's daughter finds her thing (January 21, 2023)

Addormentata | November 2025 | Carina and Maya navigate the challenges of raising two children amidst the six-week sleep regression (May 8, 2023)

Brave | February 2025 | Maya and Carina's son has his first trip to the ER (March 27, 2024)

Alone | November 2026 | Maya and Carina learn that their toddlers need constant supervision (April 30, 2024)

Give In | July 2031 | Sometimes, Maya is incapable of saying no to their daughter (May 7, 2024)

Additional Station 19 Stories:

Vorfreude | (German: the joy one experiences while looking forward to something) A (thoughtful) gift is given | (May 13, 2022)

Visceral | (felt in or as if in the internal organs of the body) Carina has a migraine | (March 27, 2022)

Somnolent | (inclined to or heavy with sleep) Maya falls asleep | (March 18, 2022)

Three Sentence Fics | the challenge (January 2023)

Trope Challenge Fics | the challenge (February 2023)

Additional Works: AO3 (2018-present) | FF.net (approx. 2010-2018)

[is-this-even-relatable]

Misfortune Teller

tldr: An older Danny, apprentice to Clockwork, does a lot of field work across dimensions, resetting the timeline, queuing future events, and who knows what else. Occasionally, he warns people about such upcoming possibilities, to set them on the right path. How, you might ask? Well in this case... as a wandering fortune teller.

Crack-fic (oh god, it's getting long and my logic brain won't let it remain as crack) where Danny becomes Clockwork's apprentice after getting his GED. Living his infinite afterlife to the fullest. Inspired by this tumblr post.

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

Working for Clockwork had been... interesting so far. At first, Danny got frustrated by how vague and cryptic Clockwork was. He'd just shunt Danny off to some ancient time with a few words, his own time medallion (Danny carried it everywhere with him now), and then pop back into the portal, leaving Danny with only the faintest idea of where to go.

Eventually, after enough time (ha!) spent around Clockwork, Danny figured out that it just basically meant that he had free reign and to do whatever he wanted. Because if he went on the wrong path, (like that one time in Pompeii when he had almost caused the volcano to explode a few years too early), Clockwork would just pop on by, say another few cryptic words, and then it'd all be fine and dandy, or as he liked to say, "All is as it should be... Now stop practicing your wail by an active volcano."

After telling Jazz about that (it was supposed to be funny, not concerning), she just sighed and shook her head, with a forlorn "think before you act, Danny!" but hey, it'd turned out fine so far, so who cares how he does what Clockwork asks him to do, as long as it gets done, right? Even if it's with a liiiiitle more mischief than strictly required.

Besides. Danny was the one who had been doing time shenanigans across millennia, not Jazz. And he thought he'd been getting pretty good at it too! He'd actually started giving himself a different made-up background for each universe he visited. Sam and Tucker were helping him keep up with the identities on a spreadsheet, so if he had to go back to one he'd already visited, he'd remember who he'd said he was supposed to be.

---

He was on a call with them one evening while haunting Jazz's apartment, doing just that, when he felt a familiar tingle in the back of his throat, as well as a heightened awareness of the seconds passing by, that always accompanied his mentor's appearance.

Sam was talking about his past stint posing as a god of death when he cut in. "Hey- sorry to interrupt, Sam- Clocky's here, guys, I gotta dip."

"Aw, come on! We hardly talked any this past week since you passed your certifications, man," Tucker complained.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah. Partly on you too though, you've been caught up outside of class, and Sam's schedule is nearly the opposite of yours."

Sam hummed in agreement despiter Tucker's scoff.

Danny missed hanging out with them as much as they had in high school, but hey, life goes on. Or at least, theirs did, to college. After finally flunking out of Casper High, he'd taken some time to get used to his responsibilities in the ghost zone, and when he had, he realized that he didn't really have much enthusiasm or timeleft for his human life.

And he didn't really want to go back home either.

But Jazz had made him tie up any loose ends before he noped-off to god knows where, which frankly, he had to thank her for. Getting his GED took a few years, but it was an accomplishment that could be attributed to Danny Fenton, no ghostliness required. Then he was able to let that tether go free.

Pulled out of his musings by a few more grumbles from Tucker, Danny said his goodbyes, promising to call the next time they were all available.

After hanging up, Danny swiveled around, anticipation already lighting up his eyes an ethereal green.

Clockwork, for his part, had been waiting patiently through Danny's lengthy goodbyes. Although he supposed that it tracked for the watcher of time to be patient. With his job, it'd be a nightmare if he wasn't.

"Phantom," Clockwork spoke, calm as always. "I have some tasks I need you to complete as my apprentice."

And Danny, always ready for adventure, didn't need him to explain any further. "Sure! When do you need me to be?"

Clockwork smiled at that. "I am fortunate you are eager. Follow me."

---

Danny popped into existence in this universe with a burst of cold air and static electricity. He found himself hovering by a clocktower above a sprawling, gothic city. Smog and light pollution obscured the stars above him, to his disappointment. He comforted himself with the fact that he'd probably have all the time he wanted to fly someplace less populated to see them later.

He started off by familiarizing himself with the city. As he flew, he followed the trail of power and met the resident city-spirit, a spooky- but kind underneath- woman draped in black lace, who told him her name was Gotham. He spoke in length with her about this universe, its heroes, and her knights. On that, she was very enthusiastic... or at least Danny thought she was, her projected emotions belaying much more than her gloomy exterior. She told him how her knights had been through a lot and would need some guidance fighting the darkness that pooled in her deepest corners, smiling with too much glee, filling lungs with fear, and terrorizing with cold hard bullets.

Danny could sense that the dangers she spoke of were growing in power, ever slowly. The longer they shadowed people's minds and hearts, an intangible thing grew that lent them more otherworldly pull than their physical forms had right to hold.

That must be what he was sent here for.

But... they were weak, pitifully so for him, infinite king as he was. And besides, he wasn't here in that sense. He was a messenger, a simple apprentice. And he could do this however he wanted.

Cue his talk with Lady Gotham, and subsequent idea to arm her knights. With what? Well, he figured knowledge would be a start. Flying high above the city invisibly, Danny noticed a sea of colors and lights by what appeared to be the city's pier. He flew down, noting that it appeared to be the setup spot for a travelling circus or carnival of some kind.

He considered what to do. One of Lady Gotham's troubles was a madman clown, right? Well maybe he'd be attracted to his ilk here... and with the danger came the knights. Maybe he could catch one of them here?

Danny was floating around at the entrance and beginning to formulate a plan when a flyer caught his eye. Looking for a mystic to read fortunes. URGENT!

Hadn't Clockwork said something about fortunes? And he hadn't made an identity in this universe yet...

A mischievous smile crept across Danny's face, splitting it in two with far too many teeth.

---

Half a city away, a man in all black, perched on the very same clocktower that Phantom had Appeared by, shivered as he felt an ominous premonition about his sanity in the near future...

Said man quickly opened his comms to check in with his many, many kids. Yet even after hearing back from each, he still felt apprehensive.

Somewhere even further, Clockwork laughed.

---

And that's how Danny found himself seated at a fortune teller's booth at a pier in Gotham, two days later, for the Tricksy Traveling Circus's grand opening.

[moonchild-in-blue]

Lukewarm take: I hate breakfast in bed. No, not even coffee. No. Breakfast on the couch though? Big yes.

[philosophiums]

I have given into peer pressure.

Below the cut is my un-referenced, not proofread, off-the-cuff thoughts on the main JJK characters and their tendencies to have traits that contradict themselves, which not only makes them more rounded characters but also creates a really interesting situation in which characters have mirrors and foils not only with other characters, but also with themselves.

The point of this post is that the characters in JJK are complex. None of them are one-trick ponies and all of them contain multitudes and have, at least once, contradicted themselves and their beliefs.

Might be spoilery? I tried to keep it vague enough that it shouldn't be, but read at your own risk if you're anime only, I guess.

The Obvious One: Gojo

Gojo is "the strongest." It's debatable, I think, whether or not being "strong" is a personality trait, but he makes it his defining personality trait. (And I'm not here to do a Gojo character study, so for my purposes, it will be viewed as one.) Obviously, The Strongest is a title given to him by others, but he fully owns it and believes it. This is his identity; it's how he views himself, how he handles himself, and it is a preceding reputation that he gladly leans into. It's not a mask he hides behind, it's a flag he proudly displays on his ship to warn others of exactly who they're dealing with.

It makes sense, then, that Gojo's self-contradiction is that he has the biggest, most obvious weaknesses of all the characters in JJK. The first of these weaknesses is his knowledge of how strong he is. Toji exploits that weakness in the Hidden Inventory arc, and it almost costs Gojo is life. His second weakness is, very simply, Geto. Kenjaku exploits that weakness during Shibuya. Interestingly, Geto is a victim of Gojo's first weakness (Gojo is so self-assured that he seems to extend that assurance to the people around him, thinking that they are "as gods" like him just for being in his presence, and therefore he does not pay mind to Geto's spiraling), and exploits his second. He, better than anyone else, knows that he is Gojo's weakness, and he uses that knowledge to do everything he does before and during JJK 0 without repercussions.

Gojo is framed by himself and by many characters within JJK as being the "savior" of the jujutsu world, but in many ways he was, in fact, its downfall - because of his strength, and because of his weaknesses.

The Main One: Yuuji

Yuuji is the king of contradictions to me. Not all of it is within himself, and in fact a lot of it occurs because a large part of the plot is happening to him instead of the other way around, but he has one dichotomy that I do think is All Him. Yuuji defines himself as a cog - in his thoughts, he has been used and beaten down for evil already, so why not just be used for good as well. He thinks of himself as expendable and easily replaced; a foot soldier in a war being fought by titans. At some point, his goal stopped being to follow his grandfather's last request and instead turned into the simple act of persevering for as long as he can just in case anyone may have need of him. In a way, his outlook and perspective on everything became rather bleak and inhuman - quite literally, as, again, he views himself as nothing more than a cog.

And yet, for someone who has claimed his only purpose is to be used to kill Sukuna, everything Yuuji does is so achingly desperately human and is born out of his own desires to save people. Every other sorcerer has a CT or a fighting style that disconnects them from their foe - be that ranged attacks or weaponry - but Yuuji uses his fists. It's raw and almost savage in a way that is unavoidably intimate and human. He says, "Use me," (and, don't get me wrong, he is used) but even the act of offering himself negates the connotations that revolve around being used and shines such a lovely warm human light on him.

Yuuji doesn't push people away. The other "strong" characters isolate (Gojo has infinity, Yuuta literally fucks off from the narrative, Geto fucks off from jujutsu society, etc.), but Yuuji hoards people and connections (and yes, those become weaknesses, but the thing is: they become strengths, too). Sukuna takes Megumi away from him, but that just makes Yuuji more determined to kill Sukuna and get Megumi back. Everything he does is out of love, and he has a drive to do what he has to in order to save (or avenge) the people he keeps close. That's not exactly cog-like behavior.

The Fandom Discourse: Megumi

In my opinion, of all the characters (but especially the first-years), Megumi is the logical character. Especially when it comes to his job as a sorcerer (fighting and killing curses). He is knowledgeable about the world of sorcery, the most book-smart of the first-years, and he is smart and methodical when he fights.

He is also the only character who has openly admitted that he really only cares about saving the people he wants to save, as opposed to the general rhetoric of saving everyone. He's selfish, and he's not shy about it. Even he doesn't try to rationalize it; it's just part of who he is. Logical, methodical, smart, but also deeply, truly, selfish when it comes to where and how he expends his energy and efforts.

And yet, he is also the character who is most willing to die. Now, before half the fandom jumps down my throat, I don't mean to say that he wants to die or that he is constantly trying to - I'm just saying that he is willing to. (Obviously, Yuuji is also a character who is willing to die, but Yuuji is only willing to do so if it would also kill Sukuna, and he is determined to stay alive until such a time. Megumi, on the other hand, doesn't have a similar end-goal ultimatum for death). Yes, he comes at dying from a logical point of view, and yes, he only ever brings martyrdom into the equation if he feels he has no other option, but he has no hesitation when he reaches that point. And you (he) can rationalize self-sacrifice as much as you want to, but that is a very emotionally driven response, regardless of the situation. It's a last stand not only for himself, but for his friends, his family, the world. It's the end of the line for him, and it's something he is willing to do if it means taking out his opponent and making the world safer for everyone else - not just for his "select" people.

He is willing to run away from a fight he cannot win, but he is also willing to do something that he knows for sure will kill him if winning and running are no longer options. And I know that not everyone will see these things as opposites or all that detached from each other, but, to me, intelligent and methodical fighting does not naturally go hand in hand with, essentially, grappling your opponent and jumping off a cliff with them.

The Favorite Child: Yuuta

Like Gojo, Yuuta has access to an overwhelming amount of power. There's no doubt that when it comes to raw energy, he is the strongest sorcerer in his generation. He's exceptionally skilled when it comes to fighting and is often able to get by on simply overpowering his opponents (truly, much like Gojo). He doesn't embody being strong, though - he knows that he is, but it's not something that he considers a defining trait for himself. Instead, Yuuta's whole thing is that he has a tendency to shoulder burdens that other people won't (much like Yuuji, actually) (also it's kind of funny because of all the characters in JJK, I would consider Yuuta to be a "cog" way more than Yuuji, but that's a whole other thing). Yuuta is willing to be a monster, to make hard calls and suffer the consequences, because he has internalized what everyone keeps telling him - that, after Gojo, Yuuta is now "the strongest."

Which means that Yuuta also needs an equally large weakness to balance out that power. But where Gojo had arrogance (and his boyfriend), Yuuta has innocence. There's this pure sort of worldview that Yuuta carries with him that completely counterbalances the part of him that is willing to get his hands bloody. He has this youthful sort of hopefulness and naiveté that if he does the dirty work and puts in effort, then things will work out in his favor because they must. If he is sincere, if he shoulders an unbearable mantle, then everything will be fine simply because he chooses to do so. He does things because they are right and just, and he wants to believe that the universe will acknowledge that and be fair - even though he wouldn't have to do these unnamable things if that was true.

The Less Obvious one: Nobara

Nobara doesn't have a lot of screen time compared to the others, and specifically not a lot of time spent planning for/fighting in the "big fights," but she has one thing that the other characters don't have: self awareness. Nobara is the only character who knows what her contradictions are - she even says them out loud.

She wants nothing more than to be a normal girl who is into fashion, who could be a model, who does her hair and her nails and her makeup, who goes on dates, who has a lot of money and spends it freely. That's her ideal, that's her goal. But that's also who she is right now. She dyes her hair, wears makeup, is feminine in all the ways that would mark her as a girl to strangers on the street, goes shopping and buys too much and makes Yuuji carry her bags. She likes being girly and doesn't shy away from it.

But she is also, and I mean this with all the love in my heart, a feral little gremlin who is willing to bash people's skulls in with a hammer. She's brash and rude and loud. She takes up space and is unapologetic about it. She's vicious on the battlefield. She's not afraid to get bloody, and she hates being viewed as a damsel in distress. She's strategic in her fights, and she uses the fact that opponents underestimate her to her advantage. And she knows all of this, too, and she likes it.

She's self-actualized <3 No notes from me; I love my girl.

Anyway, that's it KSJDBVJKLDFVBJKDFVB There's no real point to this. I'm not saying anything profound, I don't think. This was all just a thought that I had, a little thing that I noticed, and I was bullied (affectionate) into sharing.

[red-flagging]

💛 seb/lewis :-)

(kiss fic prompts!)

a little epilogue to rabbits are chasing :)

Lewis's flight lands at 8:02PM, which means that by 7:31PM, Seb is parked outside the airport arrivals door, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel and scanning the sky for approaching planes.

It's quite silly, getting here so early, but it's not as if there's much left to do at home. There's roast vegetables waiting in the oven, the cauliflower steaks that he started marinating earlier this morning chilling in the fridge. Mina and Ellie are safely ensconced in their duck coop with the heater turned on for the night. The sheets on the guest bed are freshly washed.

The car parked behind him starts up. Its headlights illuminate Seb's cabin. For a moment, he catches a glimpse of himself, harried and too-bright, in the rearview mirror. He scrubs his hands down his face. Christ. Get it together, Sebastian. He is a full 39 years old. Far too old to be getting the same jitters that he did the first time he invited a girl over at age 17, agonizing about what album to have playing when they came back to his room. Lewis is far too old for Seb to be doing all this. Lewis might not even be gay.

His phone buzzes. Seb nearly jumps out of his seat.

Lewis

just landed

getting my luggage now

hows it so freaking cold here

The inside of the car is already fogging up. When he'd asked Lewis to send dates he could come visit and Lewis had said just so you know the next few months are kind of crazy for me, Seb had expected late fall, maybe the holidays. Not the middle of slush season, when all the roads up the mountain have a 50/50 chance of being so muddy that they're undriveable.

Sebastian

I'm outside, in the blue Infiniti :)

He glances back up at himself in the mirror. The scab from where a wood chip caught the corner of his eyebrow while he was sanding the new planter box is almost healed over. His hair looks as good as it's ever going to. If Lewis asks whether he's been using conditioner, he's fucked.

It shouldn't feel like this. Seb beat Lewis to Senna's record, and Lewis still laughed at all his jokes the next season. Lewis watched Seb DNF twice in five races and still said in the media pen that he was waiting for the day Seb would be back up on the podium with him. When they inevitably auction off Lewis's Le Mans racesuit, it'll have to be with Seb's snot all over the front of it, because Lewis let Seb sob all over him and then laughed as he wiped sweat off of Seb's cheek with the sleeve. After all that – the fact that he's about to be in Seb's house for the next week shouldn't make Seb feel like he's standing in front of Lewis naked, without even the promise of a fast car or a good competition to distract Lewis from looking right at him.

His phone buzzes again.

Lewis

outside i think

Seb peers through the windscreen. Lewis – or rather, the blurry figure lugging a giant suitcase behind him that he assumes is Lewis – waves at him from the sidewalk. Seb flashes his lights at him twice.

The back door opens and Lewis's head, along with a burst of cold night air, pops in. "Hey," he says, a little breathlessly. "I don't think this is going to fit in the back."

It does, eventually, but not without a fight that involves Seb having to climb into the trunk alongside Lewis's suitcase and physically wrestle it into place while Lewis shoves from behind. They're both out of breath by the time they finally climb back in the front and slam the doors shut.

"You know, there are beds at the farm," Seb points out. "You didn't have to pack your own."

Lewis shakes his head, tugging off his gloves. His coat collar is turned up around his neck. He's wearing an an ear warmer headband, held in place by two butterfly pins. Every other bit of uncovered skin is pink, even with the heat in the car up at full blast. Lewis shoves his fingers in front of the vents and sighs with relief, closing his eyes. "Ugh, thank God," he says. He sounds exhausted. "Listen, you're lucky I fit everything into one." It sounds far less like a joke than Seb would hope. The fact that the fondness in Seb's chest still manages to outweigh the exasperation is probably a sign that Seb's beyond salvation.

"Next time I'll bring a trailer so you can fit your bathtub and toilet, too," he says, reaching for the keys. The engine purrs to life as he flicks the lights back on, then leans forward to scrub the worst of the fog off the windscreen. The thermometer on the dash says it's still 3 degrees outside. They might still be able to make it back before the slush freezes over. "Okay," he says, sitting back down and twisting around to reach for his seatbelt. "Ready to go?"

Lewis doesn't say anything. When Seb looks over, he's staring out the front window, playing with one of his rings.

"Lewis?" Seb asks.

Lewis's head jerks around. "Hm?" he says. "Oh. Yeah." He doesn't move to put on his seatbelt.

Seb frowns. Kills the engine so he can properly turn in his seat. "Lewis," he says. "Is everything –"

Lewis leans across the console and kisses him.

It's barely half a second. Seb still hasn't moved by the time Lewis sits back down on his side of the car.

"Uh," Lewis says, after a second. He clears his throat. "Sorry. I just – Shit. Sorry. The whole way over, all I could think about was – I had to get it over with before I chickened out."

He's fiddling with his rings again, but his eyes stay fixed on Seb's. His jaw is set. He still looks half-ready to bolt through the door behind him, out into the night.

"Well, you don't have to make it sound like taking your medicine, Christ," Seb says hoarsely, and drags Lewis back across the console to kiss him properly.

Lewis's lips are still cold. When Seb opens his mouth, Lewis sighs, pressing in closer with a soft sound that makes Seb want to go twenty years back in time and kick himself for not figuring out how to make Lewis make that noise sooner. His hands settle on Seb's wrists, holding him in place. Seb slides his own hands up, cradling the back of Lewis's head, to return the favor.

When he finally pulls away just far enough to catch his breath, Lewis follows him, close enough that their noses bump. His eyes are wide. This close up, Seb can see the dark circles under them more clearly.

He closes his eyes. Lewis is still there when he opens them.

"How long have you been awake?" he asks.

Lewis blinks. "What," he says. "Are you talking about."

"Sleep deprivation," Seb says. His heart is pounding hard enough that he feels it in his throat. "People start to get delirious when they're tired enough –"

"I was awake for 24 hours and I didn't kiss you at the end," Lewis interrupts, his eyes sharp and bright. "I'm not making the same mistake twice."

Seb opens his mouth and nothing comes out. He tries again. Still nothing.

"Fuck," he says, closing his eyes. "Okay. Okay." He drags himself back upright and reaches for the keys. "We can – tomorrow. But we should – you need to shower. And sleep." Lewis's hand settles on his leg. Seb rests his own on top of it; after a second, he squeezes Lewis's fingers gently. Lewis flips his hand over and laces their fingers together.

"Yeah," Lewis says. His thumb traces over Seb's knuckles. "That – tomorrow sounds good."

The slush crackles under the tires when Seb starts to move. Ahead of them, the headlights carve a path through the darkness. Lewis's hand is a solid, steady weight against his leg. "Okay," Seb says, to himself, to both of them, to no one. Lewis hums softly from his side of the car. He squeezes Seb's knee gently.

Seb closes his eyes for a second. "Okay," he says quietly. "Yeah. Let's go home."

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

hiiiii i'm here to give you a big hug and request a 1k prompt 🙌

1. a biiiiiig hug

2. as for the (hehe smutty) prompt!

i think i would LOVE to see ed feeling vulnerable and safe enough to share with stede that a lot of things don't work for him in bed because of his knee and at first he is cautious and worries stede will get angry or frustrated with him, but of course stede showers him with love and care and thinks of a hundred ways to have sex that are not painful or uncomfortable for him 🫶

Ooh I really loved this one, thanks so much for sending it in (and sending you a hug right back)! Get absolutely adored and cherished Ed!!

Under the cut since this one's a bit nsfw! I'd put it at a strong M rating, no explicit sexual content but obviously it's about sex.

Ed had never really owned up to how fucking inconvenient the knee could make things, not before.

See, there are certain things that are mood- killers, and then there are things that are straight-up dangerous to admit, and Ed’s little problem was both. The hookups Ed was used to wouldn’t just laugh at him for being in pain during sex, they would’ve taken it as a sign of weakness. A sign that Ed was vulnerable, weak, easy to exploit and to harm. 

So, usually, he just put up with it. If it was awful, like if a guy pushed his legs back, forcing the knee to bend at a harsh angle, he might find some excuse to change it up, but usually he just closed his eyes and hoped his grunts of discomfort sounded pleasured instead of pained. He would close his eyes, after, breathing through the pain, vowing that he’d never have sex in a painful position again for the rest of his life, cautiously listening to make sure whatever guy he’d taken to bed wasn’t trying to pull any shit. Rinse and repeat a few weeks later.

Stede, though. Talk about a hell of a difference.

He’d figured out that Ed didn’t like some things, Ed thought. He never held down Ed’s bad leg, never forced the knee to bend. Rubbed the joint so tenderly after sex. And that maybe should’ve made it easier to admit to his problem, but Stede made Ed feel so good, and he wanted to return the favor, and…

“Ed, honey, you’re somewhere else tonight.”

Ed sniffed, shifted. They’d been breaking in their new bed (still called it that, even though they’d been breaking it in for a couple months now), and he was half in Stede’s lap, legs flung across Stede’s thighs. He should’ve felt perfect.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and when Stede’s light, appraising touches traveled down his leg, rubbing lightly at his knee, he hissed, the pain making him flinch involuntarily.

Stede kissed his fingertips, then touched them feather-light to Ed’s knee. “Does it hurt?”

“Just stiff,” Ed said dismissively.

Stede just hummed. Ed knew he wouldn’t force the issue.

“I, uh…” Ed cleared his throat. “What would you say if I said I didn’t think I should ride you anymore?”

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the anger on Stede’s face -

“I’d say that was fine,” Stede said easily. “Why? Does it make your knee hurt when we do that?”

“Maybe a little,” Ed admitted softly.

“Okay,” Stede said, and he positioned his hands around Ed’s knee, rubbing his thumbs gently along the sore, tender joint, working out the stiffness of exertion. Ed hissed, his face scrunching up at the sensation, and Stede just cooed soft apologies.

That was - that was it, though, wasn’t it? Ed knew he was safe to let Stede see him in pain. Stede hadn’t ever gotten angry or frustrated with him for being in pain or needing help with his knee before, why would this be any different?

“Um,” Ed started haltingly, “I actually think maybe we might need to be a little more careful. During intercourse. With my knee. If that sounds alright to you. Maybe.”

When he opened his eyes, Stede was getting that pinched line between his eyebrows.

“Ed?” Stede pulled Ed a bit more securely into his arms, and Ed sighed in satisfaction at the feeling of Stede’s arms around his waist. “Have you been hurting? While we have sex? Have I been hurting you?”

“Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, I’m just…” Stede let his breath out in a long sigh. “I don’t want to ever do anything that hurts you. Not ever. Especially not when we’re trying to do something that’ll make us both feel good. How can I help keep you comfortable?”

“Well…” Ed grimaced. “Bending my knee is what hurts the most.”

“Alright,” Stede said thoughtfully, and Ed could see the wheels turning in his head. Taking out positions that required Ed to bend his knee took so much off the table. Riding, giving blowjobs, even fucking missionary, and Ed was a bit terrified he’d just ruined their sex life.

Clearly, he’d underestimated Stede Bonnet’s creativity. 

Ed should’ve known he was in for a treat when he caught Stede woodworking in the backyard and was given a full presentation about all the features of the “blowjob stool” he was building, a seat designed to cushion and support Ed’s knee while putting him at perfect dick-sucking height. 

Stede was endlessly thoughtful when adapting positions they already liked, too. Ed liked being taken from behind; they discovered that a pillow under his hips kept him comfortable and allowed him to keep his legs straight. When Ed missed looking into Stede’s eyes during sex, they experimented with variously supporting his knee with pillows or propping his ankle on Stede’s shoulder. Spooning, bent over a desk, the good ol’ 69… not all of Stede’s ideas or little inventions worked, but the ideas he had for supports to keep Ed comfortable meant it was the best sex Ed had ever had, full stop. It was really damn nice to be able to enjoy himself without worrying about being in pain.

The best parts, though, weren’t just the sex itself.

They’d found that Ed’s knee was least painful when his muscles were relaxed and when he was feeling good, so they often had a warm bath first. It was fun foreplay, and relaxing together while Stede rubbed tiger balm into the joint in the afterglow was the perfect way to snuggle and talk about what they’d enjoyed.

“I’m glad I told you,” Ed whispered one night, tracing their initials over Stede’s heart as they cuddled, Ed’s bad leg slung over Stede’s hip to keep it propped up.

“Me, too,” Stede said, kissing Ed’s cheek.

Ed was learning, still, that he’d never have to just put up with pain again. And it was soft, soft, as smooth and sweet as honey.

[wildstar25]

MiqoMarch Day 23 - Midnight

With their intended voyage into the void only a few days out, Arsay thought it the upmost importance that she steal her partner away to Kugane, that they might share one more fond memory together should things not turn out the way they plan in the thirteenth. It was as they crossed the very same bridge the miqo'te had once sat on together two years prior when Arsay gifted Y'shtola with a bracelet matching that of her own. A token of endearment which, Arsay confessed, she would have given to her fellow scion back then, had nerves not gotten the best of her. While their relationship has undoubtedly changed since the initial purchase of the jewellery, the sentiment remained the same. Y'shtola was someone who Arsay loved dearly and she will forever be grateful to have the seeker's life intertwined with her own. No matter where their free spirits took them, they would always hold each other in their hearts. A promise Y'shtola was more than willing to keep. She slipped the the string of beads around her wrist without a second thought. They were never to come off, not even when the two decided to delay their return to Radz-at-Han in favour of a private bath at the dead of night.

[the-alice-of-hearts]

Happy birthday!! I hope you had a good one <3 if you're still taking prompts, could I ask for DickTim + mutual pining?

Thank you!!! Today is actually the day (July 4th) and I’m hoping it’s good 🥰

Dick watched Tim the way someone watched a lover. He knew his sleeping habits, or lack there of. He knew what the younger man liked to eat. He knew his order at the local coffee shop and knew that contrary to popular belief it was actually a chai latte with no actual coffee to be seen. He knew the way Tim put his hair up when he was thinking vs when he was working out vs when he was just reading. He knew Tim, but he didn’t know how to tell him how unequivocally in love with him he was.

Tim knew the people he cared about. He knew that Dick was watching him lately. He knew that Cass had something to say about it. He knew that Steph was busy with school and Jason and Bruce were due for another fight. Hell he even knew that Damian was cooling off more and more recently. What he didn’t know what hot to explain to them how he cared for them. Damian it might be easy. Just call him brother in passing and gaslight the younger into thinking that was normal. Steph and Cass knew that he cared about them and made sure he never forgot they cared for him in return. Bruce showed his love in tracking them all and Tim could maybe do the same. Jason was difficult but maybe a book or something meaningful left at his nearby safe house was a good idea. But then he always circled around to Dick. Dick who cared about Tim. Dick who saw them as equals. Dick who was so pretty and kind and perfect, flaws and all. How could Tim ever tell him about his love? About his yearning. About his want?

Eventually Cass would step in. Locking the boys into a room to talk it out until she’s deemed them happy. But for now each man is just hanging onto a thread of normal before everything changes.

[cindernet-explorer]

A3 for the Height Difference Meme :0! If you’re still wanting to do em that is OwO

A3

also A4 cuz I wanted them together

[ask game]

[aesthetictarlos]

It's a sunny Sunday afternoon here and I'm in a bad mood rn, so I want to try something to cheer me (and maybe you, too!) up. Plus, I have a few bucktommy wips (and I'll post a fic tonight) but I need to learn how to write short fics SO if you want to send me some fluffy prompts... I'll try to write them on here.

✨✨✨

Pls don't make this flop 🥹

P.s. you can comment here or send me an ask if you want to stay anonymous. ❤️

[meowzilla93]

The Seasons of Baxter Alexander Ward

Baxter as a child is Winter. Reserved, sharp, distant, cold. The capability to cut people away as easy as breathing needs a fierce, but cold, heart and mind. The need the cold to make the decisions for others around you. Winter is strong and determined and stubborn and selfish. Winter knows it is hated, and so knows it’s worth, so why would Winter listen to anything else? So, Winter freezes, and Winter stays.

The Summer of 2016, Baxter after the Summer he got a taste of, this man is Winter still, if not colder again.  To have Summer, the one thing you’ve always wanted, and still shun it, requires the reserved nature of Winter. And so, Winter still doesn’t thaw.

Spring blooms for Baxter once he takes true control of his life. A life sheltered by darkness and expectation, he learns to sprout new roots and take in the sun that has tried to shine his way for many years. It took courage to recognize the steps he needed to take, and so he reaches for his independence, cuts away the rotting roots and takes a step into the sun. Spring thaws the Winter and gives way to a new life. Spring brings the blooms and breathe of fresh air to allow for the sharpness to dull, the cold to thaw, and the distance to start being shorter.

But Summer can never truly come to one still so afraid. So, Summer comes, and goes, circling him like the earth circles the sun, but never touches him. Summer is something he can try to fake, wear as a mask, but never truly live. Someone who was Winter for so long, how could he fool himself to think Summer would be a life he could have.  So, he stays content, the thawed Winter that burst into Spring, but cannot take the next step towards the warmth of Summer, no matter how much he wants to.

Summer… His Summer is you. Summer appears in front of him, blinding and warming and what he has wanted all this time. Though he tried to run, for fear of what Summer could bring, Summer always comes. When he finally gave it a chance and let Summer into his life, his journey continues into the happiness and freedom he as always wanted. For that is what Summer is; Freedom, happiness and Love. His Summer is the love of his life, and Summer could be a Spring, Autumn, Summer or a Winter, but no matter which one, you shine like Summer to him.

So, this man of the forest, who lived through each season and learnt his way through each of them, settles into Autumn. Calmness, content, and happy. The cozy warmth that holds to you and basks in the radiance that Summer brought. His journey came to an end, he experienced the cycle of the seasons, each guiding him and forming him into the person he is now. And he is finally, truly happy. Autumn, the patina of golds, reds and yellows, that bring warmth and a smile to his face. He only got here because of the Summer that entered his life. He happily lives his life in Autumn, in the comfort of that love.

[theood]

I went to no one's mad at you island and all your friends were there and they told me they all love you and could never hate you and they don't mind that sometimes your emotional responses are bigger than the actual problem and they asked where you were. They miss the shape of you in the group and how your laugh and smile and the way you speak weaves the group together. They wanna see you again soon and hope you call.

[thus-spoke-lo]

when did writing get to be so hard. when did that change.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Hi Max can we have a Star Wars UA supercorp?

(A continuation of my existing Stars Wars AU)

---

When the Jedi Council advises her and J'onn that the Empire has gained a new Sith, Kara knows they’re in trouble. Rumors of the Sith’s strength spreads rapidly, and soon Kara sees the carnage for herself, tracking the Sith’s movements through the galaxy but never quite catching them.

Until, one day, Kara and J'onn arrive on a planet untouched by violence. A trade center supported by peaceful agrarians. But the peace didn’t last long. As soon as night fell– this Sith and their Imperial forces only ever attacked at night– the boom of cannon fire roused the village into a screaming panic.

Kara and J'onn try to evacuate the townspeople to safety, battling the soldiers that managed to encroach close enough to meet them in direct conflict. The second, large unit of soldiers is dealt with, leaving Kara and J'onn breathless from the exertion, and for a moment Kara thinks they might have earned a brief reprieve.

But then, almost as soon as the hope crosses her mind, Kara hears the stomp of approaching scout walkers marching closer. As she turns towards the sound, she sees them.

The Sith.

Dressed in blacks as dark as the night around them, Kara might not have seen them if not for the backlight of encroaching flames. Their cloak flaps in the wind, head shrouded by a deep hood, obscuring their features. But Kara can feel them– a dark ominous energy pouring through the Force, filling her with a dread unlike anything Kara has felt before.

She almost falters, nearly taking a step back, before J'onn is at her side, his presence calm and steadfast.

“Do not waver,” he tells her. “They are powerful, but so are we.”

Kara nods. With a flick of her wrist, she activates her lightsaber. Its familiar hum serves to further steady her, building her confidence. She has not come this far to fall victim to her fear now.

J’onn activates his weapon as well, calm green to her burning red. For a moment, they wait to see what the Sith might do. Curiously, their opponent doesn’t activate their own saber. They do nothing but stare, as still and immutable as stone. Jara shoots J'onn a look, who nods his readiness.

Without a word between them they break into a dead sprint, intent on overcoming the Sith through speed and brute force. But when Kara swings, the Sith dodges so swiftly they seem to blink out of sight. Then an invisible hook catches beneath her ribs, jerking her to one side to collide with the nearest wall. The Force disappears as quickly as it gripped her, redirecting to J'onn, who soon flies away from the Sith as well.

Kara recovers quickly, but before she can move a single step the same wall she’d slammed into explodes, sending the bulk of its mass hurtling towards her. This time, Kara manages to slice through it with her saber, escaping unscathed. Almost immediately anothing chunk follows on its heels, and Kara can’t react in time. SHe takes the impact on her shoulder, rolling with the blow to land on her feet and immediately sprints back towards the Sith.

Again, she’s rebuffed, flung through the Force like a rag doll. Every attempt to attach is similarly thwarted, until Kara is forced to pause on one knee, huffing with exhaustion. SHe shares a heavy glance with J'onn, their understanding unspoken– this Sith’s control of the Force is unmatchable. The sheer power… a deep foreboding fills Kara. She knows now that she is no match for the Sith, and neither is J'onn. But together, if they coordinate their attacks– perhaps they would stand a chance. 

J'onn confirms his understanding with a nod. As one, they rise and charge towards the Sith again. This time, Kara times her atack carefully. She waits until the heartbeat after J'onn sweeps his saber towards the Sith’s ribs before raising her own for a downwards stroke. For a split second, Kara thinks she’s made it– the Sith flings J'onn away with a thrust of their arm, leaving their flank undefended. Or so Kara believes, before she hears the ksh of a lightsaber activating. Sabers collide in a cloud of sparks; stubbornly, Kara tries to still connect through sheer strength, but in the next moment, she registers two things that make her heart stutter in her chest.

THe first is the saber she’s pushing against– a dark crackling black she’s only seen in the hands of only one person. 

The second is the pair of empty eyes that glares up at her beneath the glow of locked sabers, the lower half of the Sith’s face disguised by a blank mask as black as their cloak.

Those two eyes that Kara knows would be a striking green in the light of day.

“Lena?” Kara gasps. ONly the empty look in Lena’s gaze keeps her saber up and activated. “What– what are you doing?”

The Sith– Lena– shoves her away with the dark saber, sending Kara staggering. Shock leaves Kara breathless. It’s Lena, she’s sure of it. And yet… it isn’t. This Sith fights with a brutality Lena never displayed before– Lena preferred speed and agility over the brute strength Kara occasionally leaned into. But here, now– Lena has repelled both of them without batting an eye. Had this kind of power always lurked within Lena, had she the will or desire to use it?

“Lena!” Kara gasps. “Lena, it’s us! Kara and Master J'onn!”

There’s no sign of recognition above the mask. Kara can’t help but wonder who gave it to her, what its purpose was. Could Lena even speak through it, if she wanted to? She doesn’t get a chance to ask. Lena flicks the tip of her saber towards Kara, forcing her to spring back to avoid being gutted. Swallowing, Kara takes another step back.

“I don’t want to fight you, Lena!” she shouts. “Lena, listen to me! It’s us!”

An invisible hand lifts a speeder from the street and flings it at her. Kara rolls out of the way and pauses behind the corner of the nearest building, hoping it might buy her a few moments. Lena stalks towards her, dark saber thrumming at her side. Her gaze is dark and ruthless in the flickering shadows, sending a thread of icy fear down Kara’s spine.

As she approaches, Kara reaches for the familiar current of Lena’s mind through the Force, only to be met with… nothing. Total and utter silence.

The wall opposite Kara’s position in the narrow alley splits with a thundering crack. With a groan, it teeters on its axis before slamming down with unnatural force. Kara throws up a shield with one hand, blocking the worst of it only to have to scramble backwards as Lena swipes at her again, almost lazily. Kara strikes back, but it proves to be half-hearted, easily swatted aside like a bothersome fly. 

Kara backs away, matching Lena’s own menacing march towards her. Her mind races– Lena is the new Sith, the very Sith that had wrought destruction across multiple worlds. But Kara’s senses tell her that Lena hasn’t simply turned: if so, she would have felt rage, determination, all the emotions the Sith lived by. Instead, Lena’s mind feels… vacant. Or jailed. 

If Kara could only break through the mental barrier between them, she’s certain Lena would be somewhere behind it, intact. Whole.

Struck by a sudden idea, Kara launches into the air, flipping over Lena’s head and landing softly on her feet before sprinting to where J'onn no lay, half buried by debris.

“The saber of light,” Kara gasps. At J'onn’s look of confusion, Kara thrusts her hand out. “Lena’s saber! Give it to me!”

This time, J'onn doesn’t hesitate. The filigreed hilt settles into her palm, and Kara rises to face Lena’s approach head on. THe saber had been all they’d found when news of Lena’s disappearance had spread. It suggested to Kara that harm had come to her friend, but to other Jedi it was simply a confirmation that Lena had fled the light.

Now certain in her belief that Lena has been coerced, tortured, brainwashed, altered, Kara faces her encroaching enemy with all the courage she has left. 

“Lena!”

Lena doesn’t stop her deliberate, steady pace. Her hood has fallen back, revealing her half-concealed features in stark relief. Her hair is pulled sharply out of her face, piled high with a braid trailing over one shoulder. She looks like an edifice, as unrelenting as stone.

Kara flicks her finger over the trigger of Lena’s saber. A blade of bright blinding light hisses into existence, illuminating the street around Kara. She watches as Lena halts suddenly, blinking as her gaze drops to the saber in Kara’s hand.

“I know you’re still in there,” Kara calls across the distance between them. Lena’s gaze doesn’t leave the saber, even as Kara continues.

“You recognize this saber,” she declares, lifting the white blade slightly. “Because it is a part of you. An extension of who you are. THese sabers are a pair, Lena. They aren’t meant to exist without the other. Just as light and dark exist within you in equal measure, regardless of their attempts to convince you that only darkness remains.”

Kara pauses then, waiting for a reaction. Any reaction. But nothing comes. Lena continues to stare dispassionately at the saber, her mind impenetrable to the Force. 

A flicker of movement to Lena’s left draws Kara’s attention. Lillian Luthor herself steps from the shadows, her features smug with victory. 

“I see you have met the Empire’s newest ally,” she says, her tone measured, lofty with superiority. “May I introduce Darth Thrall.”

“What did you do to her?” Kara demands, rage sparking in her chest. 

Lillian smirks. “You would be amazed at the wonders a Mindflayer can do.”

Kara’s stomach sinks. No. Not Lena.

As the lapdog of Daxam, she’s seen the Mindlfayer in use only once– once had been enough. During a visit to a Luthorian prison, she and Rhea had been offered a demonstration. There, Kara had witnessed the torture of a rebel agent. The room had filled with his screams, until his voice had given out and blood had seeped from his eyes and ears. The general giving them the tour had admitted it didn’t serve well as an instrument of interrogation, but rather a means to enervate its subject.

Now Kara sees the ultimate effect, and it makes her sick.

Her gaze flicks back to Lena, and notices her stare has yet to leave the shine of the saber of light. Kara lifts the weapon, and Lena’s deadened eyes follow. 

“Fight it, Lena!” she calls. “I know you can! No amount of pain, no amount of reconditioning could ever erase who you are! Please, Lena– reach for the Light.”

Lillian laughs, the mirthful sound at odds with the destruction around them. “You waste your time, Jedi. Nothing remains but the darkness of the Sith–”

The proud declaration is halted by the warble of a saber in motion, as in a flash the blade whips out to align with Lillian’s throat. It stops just short of beheading the Empress, the movement as sharp and precise– robotic, even– as the blows against Kara had been.

Kara watches with wide eyes as Lena continues to stare, her features blank even as Lillian freezes, glaring at her disobedient pet. “What are you doing, Darth Thrall? Disengage!”

Her words have no effect. The dark saber remains at her throat, flicking towards Lilian when the woman takes a wary step backwards.

Kara senses a disturbance in the Force, now. A conflict, muted but tense like a balloon overfilled with air. With a deep breath, Kara lets her mind stretch towards Lena, beckoning her home.

In the next instant, the tension in the Force abates, deflating with a visceral snap as Lena’s eyes blink and then widen with shock. Her free hand reaches up to wrench the mask from her face–

A blaster shot whines briefly in the air. It’s not until the mask slips numbly from Lenas fingers to crack upon the cobblestone that Kara realizes her friend is the one who’s been hit. As Lena crumples, a third shadow in an Imperial uniform steps into view. 

“Sorry, ace,” Lex says, gazing at his sister for a brief moment before extending a hand to his mother. “The city has been routed. We are prepared to withdraw.”

Lillian recovers quickly, regaining her composure as the dark saber falls away from her throat. “Excellent.”

She bends to claim the dark saber from Lena’s limp fingers, but Kara reaches through the Force to tug it into her own palm. Lillian scowls, but lingers no longer. She and her son retreat into the shadows, leaving Kara to run to Lena’s side unmolested.

“Lena!”

She falls to her knees and scoops her friend into her arms, earning a cry of pain. “It’s okay, it’s okay. We’re here.”

“Kara–” Lena chokes out, tears pinching from her eyes. “I’m sorry…”

Befor Kara can respond, J'onn kneels on Lena’s other side, gathering Lena’s hand in his own. Lena’s gaze turns to him, even as she gasps for breath.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers to her master. “I for-forgot your teach-teachings.”

J'onn covers her grasping hand, his eyes kind. 

“You have seen darkness, and chosen the light,” he tells her. “I see no failure here. Only strength.”

Lena gasps a sob, her eyes clenching with pain. Kara feels Lena’s grip start to slacken, her strength waning. She looks at J'onn in terror, and finds only calm certainty gazing back, steadying her. Something in Kara’s chest eases, the reassurance offered by their master dulling the alarm thrumming through her body.

“Come,” he says. “There will be time enough to speak once we have gotten to safety.”

“M-master…”

“You aren’t dying yet, padawan,” J'onn tells Lena gently. “You have much yet to learn.”

Lena’s eyes flutter closed before she can say anything else. Kara's fear returns in an instant.

“We must get her to care, and quickly,” J'onn tells her, sweeping to his feet. “But fear not– Lena’s story will not end here.”

((prompts are closed))

[makostrife]

hiya i wish everyone a stellar day! i'll be playing some wuwa and then tackle more asks

[whumpinthepot]

I had the most incredible amazing incredible dream ever it was like a movie dedicated to my taste specifically about a mad scientist woman who starts out soft and loves her subjects but as time goes on she becomes more desperate to find “the cure™️” and becomes more detached and sadistic until finally the subjects form a rebellion to fight against her. All while they’re on a space ship with limited supplies and power and enemies circulating it constantly.