#you will go to the ends of the earth and exhaust every resource you have to find out what happened

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

“he thinks youll be disgusted but you’re just happy he’s alive” 1) incredible work as usual 2) YOU CANT JUST DROP THAT AND NOT ELABORATE- wifi my heart you don’t understand i need closure—

suffer <3 (just kidding just kidding :> ) referenced ask here!

while everyone else mourns Ajax's apparent death, you work twice as hard to save up money to journey to Liyue, determined to find out what had happened. some called you stubborn, others called you crazy- but the only thing you truly desired was Ajax, and if not him, then closure. if Ajax truly was dead, why hadn't the Fatui sent word the minute it was confirmed? why were there no efforts to recruit a new Eleventh Harbinger? why hadn't his possessions been sent to his family? there had to be some reason behind all of this

and there is, you quickly find out, when an odd man named Zhongli leads you to an Abyssal monster curled in the corner of a room, and when it sees you it's single eye widens as it shrinks into itself, clicking frantically and trying to hide from view. but you simply step closer, murmuring Ajax's name, and the creature hesitantly looks up at you, a low croon exiting its- his mouth. you run over and fling your arms around him, sobbing in relief as you feel his claws slowly wrap around your waist, feel him lean into your touch, feel the presence of your Ajax again. you know it's him, even in his Foul Legacy form, and you swear on Celestia that you'll never be parted again. carefully you lean in and press a kiss to his forehead, just like you always would back in Snezhnaya, and hear a soft, rusty purr filter through the room for the first time ever

[papurgaatika]

Scarcely Can Speak For My Thinking, What You’d Do To Me Tonight

Pairing: VA! Joel Miller x f! reader 

Minors DNI with my work please!!

A/N: howdy howdy my lovelies. I know what yall are thinking: papaya didn't you post a fic literally less than two weeks ago? And to that I would say yes, yes I did. However, I have been working on this one for a while and somehow managed to finish it on the plane! Thank you as always to my lovely beta readers @carlynkurin and @joelsdagger The title is a Hozier lyric (are yall really surprised?) This is officially dedicated to my beloved @joeloverture and despite my darling vetty's step off of tumblr, she truly deserves the world. also if you're mean to her i will find you. that is a threat

I hope y'all enjoy the read, and that the filth keeps you going in times of need. Peace and love on the planet Earth from me!!! Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!!

Tags: Erotic voice actor Joel! AU, Young Joel, No outbreak AU, smut, condescension, degradation, f! masturbation, praise, squirting, smut, LOTS of dirty talk, oral (f receiving) friends to lovers, fingering, voice kink, Joel loves thighs, Joel Miller arm appreciation, the reader is a mess, no use of y/n, Joel can pick reader up but he’s HUGE so it makes sense, no description of reader, 18+ Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: you have been using audio erotica to get off for a month, and manage to accidentally let it play in Joel's car, leading to an awkward night in 

You let out an exhausted huff as the dim light of your phone reflected on your face. Your headphones connected, your vibrator was charged, but in some godforsaken twist of fate, there was not a single thing worth listening to on the newest audio erotica page you could find. Videos hadn’t been doing it for you, the ethical concerns were too high for you to be horny, and as much as you liked a good fanfic, you had gone through most of the ones you liked and needed something new.  You click on a post with semi intriguing tags, immediately rolling your eyes and exiting out of it when you hear the all too familiar vocal fry of men trying to sound hotter. News flash: you don't. 

You were moments away from calling it a night and opening your backlog of smutty ao3 fics when another post caught your eye. You let out a snort at the username save_a_horse and glance at the tags. Okay you were definitely interested now, a degrading instructional… you hit play with baited breath, prepping for the worst, but you were so mistaken. 

“Filthy little thing aint ya?” the voice rings in your ears, heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly quickly. “Must be so pathetic if you’re clicking on a mean stranger's voice to get ya’self off” his voice was like hot honey. Sickly sweet and keeping you waiting for his every word but with an edge that stung in the best way. You shuffle yourself back onto the pillows and throw your covers off, fully prepared to enjoy this rare gem. Your breathing picks up, heavy with want as the man in your ears calls you a desperate little slut. 

“Go on, get your toy wet slut” his voice croons out at you “know ya have one, too fuckin’ needy not to.'' Always eager to please, your lips find the base of your curved g-spot vibrator and let the soft plastic fill your mouth, drawing sounds that were almost too debauched for you to be sitting in bed alone. “Bet you love havin your mouth filled like that.. Lord, I'd love to have your pretty little lips around my cock” your eyes practically roll back at that, spit running down the base of your toy before he finally tells you to put it in.  

“Atta girl, such an eager thing” The toy sinks into your sopping cunt with ease as the voice envelops your mind, solely focusing on him. You listen with intense obedience as he tells you how deep, how quick, how much you were allowed. “Go on then, fuck yourself on it. We both know you want to” 

You let out a soft cry as you slip the toy in and out, the curve just hitting the spot that makes your back arch. Your breathing hitches as you press down on the button to turn the vibrations on. “Creamin’ all over yourself I bet,” it was like he could see you. Like he was able to see your arousal dripping onto the sheets below you, how the damp sheets clung to your thighs as they shook and twitched with pleasure. 

“Bet you’re so damn close.. Go on then slut, cum while listenin’ to me'' he taunts slightly as your orgasm washes over you in waves. “Gonna ruin ya,” his words are assertive, less of a promise and almost a threat “ain’t gonna cum unless it's to my voice anymore. Good fuckin’ girl”  You take a few steadying breaths as the audio clicks off, and you blink up at your ceiling unsure of how to go on from there. You glance down at your phone which has made its way to the opposite side of your bed and move to grab it.

You hit play on another audio. 

As the weeks go on, you and the mysterious cowboy in your ears have an immensely good time together. You practically spend every night listening to every one of his audios, leaving silly comments on the ones that make you cum particularly hard. It might have been an issue, how often you found yourself waiting for him to upload, how quickly you would pause your tasks to listen to new updates, but you were having fun and it wasn’t like you were hurting anyone in the process. 

You had just finished an audio before the blaring noise of a horn outside your door rattled you. The clock on your phone taunts you as do the several missed calls and texts from your best friend. “Fuck. fuck okay” you grumble, grabbing a towel and wiping yourself off before tossing a pair of comfy shorts on and grabbing your bag, and heading outside “have you never heard of a virtue called patience miller?” you quip as you slide into the passenger seat of his truck 

“Had it for the first five minutes, but about 10 minutes after that, I was damn ready to break your door down myself” he scoffs “what took you so damn long?” he rolls his eyes as you fiddle with the bluetooth in his car, not wanting to be stuck with what you call ‘old home music’ 

“I was just finishi-” your words are cut off when the sound of a moan plays over the speaker. Just your luck. You kept the grumpiest man alive waiting and then played porn in his car. Hooray for you. “Jesus fucking-” you squeak, fiddling with your phone and closing out of the app “Joel-” you start, cheeks burning and excuses already at the tip of your tongue, before he silently shakes his head and puts the car in reverse. 

The ride back to his house is awkward to say the least. “Joel listen I didn't mean for-” you mumble out meekly, but his sharp gaze on yours has you clamping your mouth closed immediately. You fiddle with your fingers, thinking about playing music, but it just doesn’t feel right anymore. The grip Joel has on the steering wheel is practically iron-clad, his knuckles almost white with the tension as he pulls into his driveway and puts the car in park. You walk into his house with a huff, your weekly game nights off to a bit of a rocky start, but you’ve had to deal with worse with him. Joel had given you moral support when your menstrual cup had gotten “stuck” during one of your first times using it, he could deal with knowing you listened to porn. 

You plop down onto his couch, stretching your legs out on the coffee table while he gets you a glass of iced tea. You take a sip of your drink and mentally prepare yourself for how bad he was going to tease you about this, but are met with shocking amounts of silence. For a man who is ruthless on game nights, the lack of trash talk and absolute avoidance was almost irritating you. Finally, after you beat him in uno for a third time in a row, you snap “What is your issue tonight miller?” you groan, placing a +2 card down “Listen I know that was awkward but we’re both adults I don't see what the big deal is'' 

Joel groans and places another +2, changing the color (much to your annoyance,) “just drop it, nothin’s the issue”  You, petulant and stubborn as ever, did not drop it. You huff as you have to take like 5 cards from the deck before getting one that you can play, and narrow your eyes at him. 

“Bullshit” you move to sit cross-legged on the couch “I never beat you in this game, something is wrong with you tonight,”  it was almost as if nobody had ever taught you not to poke a sleeping bear. Or maybe you figured that the bear was your best friend and probably wouldn't bite your head off… probably. 

“Just drop it peaches,” his words are terse, hands gripping his, now slowly diminishing, uno cards much tighter than he needed to. You groan again when you have to get another few cards. The irritation at his childish behavior, coupled with the stack of 20 cards in your hand makes you more of a menace than you probably should. 

“Don't be such a baby, Miller,” you poke his leg with your foot knowing full well he hates it, a yelp leaving your lips as he grabs your ankle and pulls you forward “Joel!” Your cards fly out of your hand 

“Told you to fuckin’ quit it peach.” His voice is a low timber, stirring something deep in your belly. “Never fuckin’ listen to me” 

You just snort at him when he releases your ankle, moving to pick up your cards, “you suck at uno today Joel” you hmph, rising to your feet “'m gonna get something else” you hear Joel protest and try to grab at your arm but you’re too determined and he’s far too comfy to get up quick enough.  You manage to make it to his spare room, swinging the door open, imagining you’d see a shelf with his board games only to stop dead in your tracks, “what the fuck-”

What you had always assumed was just his spare junk room or random linen closet, was what looked like an at home recording studio. A desk with a PC and speakers, full microphone set up, and what you could only assume was something to help with soundproofing  “What the fuck Miller?” Your voice is slightly full of awe, “are you recording shitty male superiority podcasts now?” you tease, a sly grin on your face. 

Despite how pleased you are with that crack at him, he looks absolutely unamused. He practically clomps over at you, big finger poking your ribs ``you know damn well I ain't doin’ that shit.” He rolls his eyes at your teasing. The idea of Joel Miller getting on the internet to talk about women in a way that wasn't him sitting at his desk going ‘they’re the best damn thing’ was laughable. He was a perfect gentleman to everyone, except maybe to you, but frankly you deserved it for all the shit you gave him. 

You squeak when his finger prods at your skin “okay, okay well what creepy shit are you doing in here then?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him, sauntering to his PC set up. The computer and speakers were calling out to you like a siren, and you did not have the common sense to plug your ears. 

Joel knew you. He could read you like a fucking book with how close the two of you were. He used to say that the one braincell you had spent fifty percent of its time inside his mind with how predictable you were to him. “Peach do not fuckin’ dare-” his voice is low, warning you. 

If you had better self preservation skills you would have probably heard the alarm bells ringing in your head telling you that he was serious, or paid better attention to the way his sweats were a little more tight. But you unfortunately were a complete menace, so neither of those items really registered to you. You clap your hands in an evil little giggle when you move the mouse “still no password? Shit you make my life so fucking easy-” you grin as you see the different clips of audio layered together in whatever program he uses 

Joel has somehow silently appeared behind you, his hand pulling you away from the computer. “Quit it peach, I’m not fuckin’ around,” he grits out, the hold on your wrist almost impossibly tight. He means business this time, and despite how much of a hellion you can be to him, you didn’t have a death wish. 

You scrunch your nose at him trying to pull your wrist out of his grip “okay jesus chri-” you yank your hand away from his, elbow bumping into the keyboard and are cut off with the sound of a gravely moan coming out of the speaker. Both you and Joel look like deer caught in the headlights. Your eyes flick between Joel, whose face has gone impressively red, and the screen of his computer.  “I- joel this is-” you stumble over your words, unsure of what to say in this situation. 

“Not a fuckin’ peep.” he practically growls at you. Your mouth clamps shut as he leans over you and presses pause on the audio. Your mouth is drier than it had ever been. That was a clip of your best friend, the one who was looming over you at this very moment, moaning into a microphone. You were certain that if you had listened any closer you would have been able to hear the sounds of his hand stroking his cock. The slight creak of his chair, the wet noise of the lube, or was he a spit guy? He however, was not interested in sharing any more of the audio with you, and you would deny it if anyone asked, you were a little disappointed. 

You need to say something, you had to, and despite your better judgment telling you not to, you do. “I mean you sound nice-” You sound nice?? You were so fucking ridiculous, even you knew that wasn’t the thing to say. Joel’s eyes darken at your words, and for a moment you fear he’s going to kick you out, to get truly pissed off at you for the first time since you finished his Dr. Pepper stash.  “I didn't mean-” you try to backtrack “I just meant- it... You sounded like you were enjoying yourself at least-'' you were actively digging the hole that you were in deeper, rambling and stuttering, all while Joel just stared at you silently, his eyes burning into you

You swallow hard, his eyes still not leaving yours “listen I can go I'm sorry I shouldn't have-” you go to make a beeline out of the room but a firm hand pulling you back into the chair stops you. You fall back with an oof and look up at Joel, who by all accounts looked pissed but there was something else. His pupils were blown and his eyes trace every single one of your movements. The bear had managed to lock in the own cage you had set out for him. 

“Didn't tell you to leave.” he practically grunts at you. Ladies and gentlemen, your best friend, always the most well spoken person in the room. You move to protest again, but the look he gives you stops the words before they even form on your tongue.  you bite your lip and fiddle with your fingers unsure what to do “think I sound nice peaches?” his voice cuts through the anxious rambling in your brain and you're almost certain you've heard him wrong 

“Huh?” you look back up at him through your lashes. He was leaning against the wall where his microphone was set up. His sweats were riding low on his hips and his hoodie covered the toned muscles of his arms, that if anyone asked you had never stared at. The tanned skin you never dared to fantasize about in your bed. The hair that covered his arms, the veins that often made more appearances when you asked forced him to do manual labor that you refused to do yourself. 

“Asked if you think I sound nice, Peaches?” he hums, raising a questioning brow at you. your mouth opens and closes ridiculously a few times before you simply just nod at him  “that's good..” he muses as he comes back up to you “do you think about me?” he prods, a patronizing pout on his lips as you gape up at him. “when you're listening to those dirty little audios and lettin’ your fingers touch that needy cunt?”  you can't help but squeak at his words. the way he said them, the way he spoke was just so… familiar  “come on, pretty peach, tell daddy what you think about when you're fingering that slutty little pussy” he practically grins at you and it fucking clicks. 

Daddy. Daddy. It was him. The stupid cowboy, the random man whose voice sent your tummy into knots, the one who had been getting you off for weeks now was your best friend.  “Joel-” you practically whimper at him. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest and also very distinctly between your legs. “Listen i didn’t know it was you-” there’s a shit eating smirk on his face, one that you would have told him to wipe off his face before you smack it off in any other scenario. 

“No?” he hums at you, his brow quirked up as he towers over you in that stupid recording chair “didn't know it was me when you were commenting all those pretty little reviews?” You whimper out a noise, somewhere between a no and a general sound of timidity, as his hand tilts your chin up to meet his eyes  “Lemme see if I can remember what it was you said before I got you in the car today peach?” he takes a moment to obnoxiously tap his forehead mocking the way you recall things “what was it you said? ‘This made me late to see my friend, but it also made me ruin my sheets’? Was that it peaches?” 

You take a shaky breath, your skin burning under his intense gaze, chin still in his hands. You nod softly at his question, knowing that if you didn't, he would just push you until you did. His grin turns wolfish at your confirmation, and you feel him shift his legs between yours, pushing them apart “yeah peach?” he tuts at you “made me wait for almost 20 minutes outside your house. just so you could cum to my voice… ain’t real nice of you” You take a wobbly breath at his words and try to reply, unsure of what you would even say. An apology maybe, an explanation? But before you can even move to open your mouth he’s cutting you off again 

“Woulda just given you the real thing baby,” he tuts at you “all you had to do was ask.'' His voice is low and almost condescending. You shouldn’t let it turn you on, you should tell him to fuck off, but you feel yourself gush at his tone, your bottom lip getting caught between you teeth. He whistles at the look on your face, his cock practically straining against his sweats, “bet you’re just creamin’ in those slutty little shorts baby'' his words aren’t a question, he’s stating it like he can read you like a book because he knows he can. His legs shift to press your legs further apart until your knees are bumping into the arm rests, your eyes unwavering from his.

Your breath is caught in your throat as he leans down to you, his lips pressed up by one of your ears “Listen to me like this peaches?” he whispers into your ear, a warm breath making you shiver before he moves to the other side “like having me in your ears with your legs spread?” 

“Yes.. fuck yes yes I do-” your words are rushed and lustful as you feel his hands dip into the waistband of your panties. Your hips jolt up into his touch, panties absolutely drenched with your arousal. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, lips parting with a silent cry of pleasure. 

“Knew she’d be droolin’ all over” he hums as he brings his slick covered finger up to his lips and tastes you with delectable pop when he pulls off. “Tastes like I fuckin’ imagined. Like a fuckin’ peach” he groans and for a moment you swear you could cum just like that. 

“Shit Joel please-” he cuts you off with a shake of his head and a shushing noise, as he steps away from you. Your legs are still spread against the chair and you practically whine when he moves away from you, flicking on his recording set up. “Joel what-” he shushes you again, giving you a look that leaves no room for argument. 

“Quiet,” he mumbles, fiddling with the mic and pulling the rolling chair closer to it. “Like listenin’ to me so much, thought i’d use you for better effects. You okay with that peaches?” he asks, looking down at you. Despite the teasing and the mockery, you knew he would stop if you told him you didn't want it. But the idea of him stopping, even for a moment was going to make you explode. You nod, maybe too eagerly for someone about to get fucked on microphone, and he grins. 

“God always knew you were fuckin’ desperate for it” he kneels between your legs, and you stifle a giggle when his knees pop.  “Quit it you menace” He swats at your thigh playful smirk on his lips, making you jump slightly. “Gotta stay real quiet for me, understand?” you watch with bated breath as he moves the mic so it rests delicately in the tension filled space between your spread thighs and his face. 

You nod, lips parted, pupils blown, cunt practically dripping for him. He lets out a soft hum of approval, lips pressing a soft kiss to your thighs “nothing fuckin’ softer than a pair of soft thighs” he muses, half to himself, half to you and the mic “could just live between them forever, die happy if a girl pretty as a peach would let me bury my face there.” You feel yourself clench around nothing, feeling maddeningly empty all of a sudden. You shift to try to gain some friction, the chair giving a slight creak at the change in position. Joel looks up and glares at you, your body going still immediately under the intensity of his eyes. 

He sticks his hand out behind him, pausing the microphone from recording. “You need to stay. still.” he grits out at you “don't need the whole internet hearing how much of a desperate little thing you are.” You nod at his words, hands gripping the armrests so hard your knuckles turn white. He flicks the mic back on and his lips find your thighs again. Nipping and kissing the soft flesh just below the hem of your shorts. He slides his hands further up, popping the button open and you have to bite down on your fist not to moan when he drags the zipper down with his teeth. He shimmies you out of your shorts, leaving your bottom half clad in your embarrassingly wet panties. 

He lets out a growl at the sight of your cunt, clothed and practically dripping for him. “Look at her… practically creaming already and I ain’t even touched you yet” He lets his thumb press against the wet spot the slight pressure just barely teasing your sopping hole dragging a breathy sigh out of you. You look down at him, eyes hooded and lips parting, practically begging for him without uttering a damn word. 

He looks up at you as he slides your panties to the side, blowing a stream of cold air straight onto your clit, making you jump. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy…” he practically salivates at the sight of you “nothin’ fucking better than seein’ a drippy, needy, little cunt in front of me…” he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, right next to where you want him, where you need his lips 

You feel a shiver run down your spine at his words. Somehow it felt filthier being able to see the look on his face, the absolute need he had to taste you. The grip he had on your thighs was bruisingly tight, not helping your arousal die down in the slightest. His mouth finally finds your slit, tongue licking a hot wet stripe at an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a guttural moan and practically salivates at the taste of you. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet” he groans, tongue dipping back down to taste more of your slick. One of your hands leaves the armrest of the chair and moves to cover your mouth when his lips place three gentle kisses around your clit before relenting and wrapping his lips around the aching bud, with a quiet hum. 

You bite down on your hand to stifle the moans threatening to spill, desperate and eager to please him. Your thighs shake when he slips a finger into your dripping cunt and curls them to hit that spot. He lets out a chuckle, lips still sucking on your clit. The vibrations of his warm breath on your aching clit elicited a desperate wine from your mouth, despite how hard you were trying to be quiet for him “Ffffuck-” 

He raises a brow at you, not even pulling away from your skin, his baby eyes just gazing at you from between your legs as his fingers work at you. Your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth in an effort to stop your sounds, but your attempts seem futile as your climax starts to draw near. Joel slips a second finger inside of you with embarrassing ease, the sound of his fingers curling inside you, joined only by your soft little breaths and his lips on your clit. His fingers stretch you in ways your fingers never have, scissoring and sliding inside of you with practiced precision. “Atta fuckin’ girl..” he growls as your toes curl instinctively, heels digging into his shoulder blades as the coil inside of you finally snaps. You feel yourself gush on his fingers, your thighs clamping around his head as he works you through it “squirtin’ all over daddy’s face huh like the needy thing you are.” 

He pulls your legs off from his legs and hits save on the audio, before glancing back at you with a smirk. “Ain’t posting that anywhere..” he whispers, the gentleness a shocking turn around from the filth he whispered to you earlier. Your breath is still coming out in shaky pants, looking up at him through hazy lids “keepin’ that all to myself” he hums, pressing a little kiss on your head. 

He scoops you up like you’re a ragdoll and practically clomps over to his bedroom, throwing you onto the bed. His fingers work deftly at the tie of his sweats, pushing them off. You squeak softly when you see the trail of hair going down his pelvis, the lack of boxers making heat rise to your chest. You work your top off, while he throws his hoodie across the room, a guttural groan leaving his mouth as he sees your breasts. “Fuckin’ perfect..'' His words aren’t necessarily for you, his thoughts just find themselves being voiced aloud. His calloused hands grope and knead at the softness of your tits before he presses wet kisses to each of your nipples. “Need to be inside ya” he practically begs, cock hard against his stomach leaking pre-cum. 

You could salivate at the sight, hell you truly might have a little bit. “Fuck me, Daddy, need you to fuck me Joel, please i can be good im ready, I'm on the pill-” your words were babbled, fast and rushed together, your intense desire for the man in front of you the only thing your brain could comprehend. Your legs part on the bed, your arousal dripping down your thighs calling to him like flowers call to a honeybee. 

“Christ, baby,” he groans before grabbing your legs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. He fists his cock and slides it through your aching pussy, both of you letting out simultaneous cries of shit when your wetness coats his length. He slides into you with gentle thrusts, letting you adjust to his size slowly, before sinking in all the way with a soft whimper “take me so good…” his words are quiet and breathless, almost as if he was in awe of how your body made room for him. 

“Oh my god-” you cry out, your hands fisting in the dark sheets under your skin. “so fucking big joel..” you clench around him, body on fire with how good he felt inside you, with how perfect it was. It was like you were made to take him like this. His thrusts get faster and your legs curl around his waist, pulling him in as deep as you possibly could. The feeling of his hand pressing on your lower stomach has you arching your back into his touch. 

“Perfect fucking thing,” he grits huskier than usual, with a thrust that knocks the air from your lungs. “Feel me peaches?” he thrusts into you again and presses on your tummy “right fuckin’ there.. Right where I god damn belong…” his words were lust filled and hazy, his own need and orgasm clouding all judgment. Your hips roll against his, the coarse hair brushing up against you, and your head lolls back into the mattress as his thrusts get sloppier. 

“Inside, Joel fuck-” you whimper at him, eyes wide and pleading as your second orgasm builds in the pits of your belly “please cum inside me, wanna feel you please..” for a moment he swears he’s died and gone to heaven. The sounds of your pretty little moans and begging are like a dream come true for him. He just nodded and shifted so he was practically cradling your body under his, cock buried so deep inside you that you knew you’d be feeling it for days afterward. 

He grinds his hips lazily against yours while his thrusts are shallow and pointed. Your legs shake while you meet his lips in a sloppy kiss, all tongue and teeth as you both fall apart practically molded together. “Jesus christ-” his breathing is ragged and hoarse “takin’ me so damn good, gonna fuckin’ fill you up” he gives a few more thrusts before he pulls out of your quivering pussy, your own orgasm sending stars into your eyes. 

You both stay like that for a moment, Joel's forehead resting softly on your shoulder as his cum spills out onto his bed. You shift softly to pull him next to you and curl into his touch, giving him a cheeky smile as you tilt his face to meet your eyes. “You…” a breathless little laugh escapes your lips “how long did you know I was commenting on your posts?” you ask softly, brows raised at him. 

He snorts at the question and flicks your forehead gently, earning a playful pout to be thrown in his direction. “Bout damn near two weeks ago” he replies, classic shit eating grin plastered to his face. “Figured it was you when you came over lookin’ like you’d won the damn Powerball and some little fan called peaches_and_cream left a comment about cummin’ three times to one damn post” you let out a muffled groan and bury your head into his chest, mumbling something about him being an asshole before you both shift into a comfortable silence. 

He moves, patting your hip and telling you to go use the bathroom after a few minutes, preaching his favorite safe sex speech and you roll your eyes at him before you saunter over to his bathroom. “Oh and Joel-” you call out before you walk in, eyes meeting his as he waits for you to finish your sentence “send me that audio, would ya?” 

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free

READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. Silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist.

PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS. 

Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

[balkanradfem]

I feel that any bad-faith argument about abortion needs to be turned into argument about quality and value of all life on earth. Because we are an intelligent species, and are capable of looking ahead and seeing the consequences of out actions.

For instance, we are living in a world with current ongoing wars, where certain people are given the orders to end thousands of lives, without any consequences or retributions. And yet this is not where pro-life is focusing their intent; apparently once babies grow up it's perfectly fine to gruesomely end those same lives in a genocide, or be starved to death during wars, that kind of thing just 'can't be helped'. But women can be pressured and guilted into birthing more babies, so apparently that's the way to go, sure way to increase the amount of suffering in the world.

But, you'll say, not all born babies will be killed off in wars (weird thing to say honestly), what about children who will live their lives safely and happily on this planet?

Well, tell me how?

Any child being born is going to experience the devastating effect of the climate change, they'll watch whole ecosystems collapse, animals going into extinction, and thousands of humans losing their homes and survival resources. They're being born into a misogynistic world, and if the child is female, she'll experience oppression that she won't even be able to prove is real to the male part of the population.

This child will grow up in the world where empathy is scarce, they'll be bombarded with news about human suffering almost every day, they're likely to come down with mental illness or at least feel that the future is bleak and brings more pain. They're also likely to fall victim to pedophiles, predators, and brainwashed boys who learned to sexually assault other kids due to the exposure of p*rn. Is pro-life trying to protect them from any of it? No. They're fighting to stop teaching them about puberty and what sex is, so once these traumatic things happen to them, they're unable to recognize them or speak about it.

But let's look into even more immediate effects of having a child born against their mother's consent. Once a baby is born, they're alive, but we all know that if they're not tended to, they'll die, experiencing nothing but pain. We always assume women will do this labour unprompted, but how can we assume this?

The forced mother, who is already traumatized from having to go trough forced birth, is likely both unwilling and without proper resources to care for a baby. The baby will feel this, they will know they're unloved. They'll know they're unwanted before they even grow up. As a solution to this, you suggest we blame and shame all mothers for not being good enough, for struggling with post-birth trauma or post-partum depression, for being unwilling to be a parent? You can't control what an unwilling mother does with her baby. You forced her to give birth but you can't do anything beyond that point.

Why did you do it? Why did you make sure a baby exists in a world where there is nobody who wants them, is willing to take care of them or give them a good life? What is it worth to you if there's another unwanted, unloved, suffering child out there? Does it make your life better if there's more human suffering? Do you fight for support of new mothers, for better healthcare, for better resources to take care of abandoned babies, for better institutions to take care of unwanted children? No. You feel entitled to women's unlimited labour and endless caretaking of children they don't want. You don't want to acknowledge it's undertaking of a huge scale, that requires endless resources, finances, complete exhaustion, loss of health, sleep, protection, sometimes education and career. It's nothing to you. Loss of quality of life, for everyone involved, means nothing to you.

As long as there is more human suffering. As long as mother didn't get any say over whether she'll become a mother or not, and how many times, and when. As long as her life was put at risk without her consent. As long as she was punished for something you consider she should be punished for.

And now I'm going to circle back to where I started, the war. Because mothers have to watch their children both go to war, risk their lives in war, and be killed in wars. After putting that endless amount of energy and resources to grow and raise a single child, they'll have to watch them go to slaughter. And what happens if a child dies, as a solider in a war? Mother gets payment for it. That's right. For having that child murdered by someone else, the mother will get paid. Murder of that child is not only okay, legal, approved by government and somehow necessary, but is also rewardable to the mother, who, had she refused to birth that same child, causing zero suffering to ensue, would have been punished. Nobody except the mother can get punished.

If the child was killed in a war, and not a soldier, nothing. Apparently loss of life with extreme amount of human suffering, is worth absolutely nothing. But refusing to put that life out there, is a punishable crime. Because it only matters if it's unborn or a newborn. Once that same baby grows up, it's slaughter time. Humans apparently lose value after they grow up, they're only worth as 'endless human potential' in unwilling hands, but after they've reached the age of 'not a baby anymore', worthless.

We have observed the world for long enough to see the consequences of the actions we make. Women are the only ones who can and should decide whether they are willing and able to bring another life into the world, that is worth living, that will provide a life which is livable, enjoyable, worth being alive for. Life is extremely precious and bringing it into the world where it will be subjected to neglect, torture, and possibly a painful death, is unacceptable.

Caring for mother's rights is the first thing that will improve any child's quality of life. Caring about the environment is the second. Ending wars and debilitating male's ability to even start a war, is a fight for life. Not fighting for them to take control of female bodies, which they'll use to make themselves endless supply of soldiers, endless war resources. Taking control from women always means putting it in hands of m*n, who don't find any problem with human suffering, who celebrate wars, find themselves at home doing massive murdering, torturing and raping of women and children.

Women in charge of life means making life compatible with joy, love, care and warmth. We are the only ones who give children have safety, community, care and protection only a willing mother can give. You're wrangling it away from us further away from control the women are. We are fighting for a world where every mother is willing, and every child wanted. Why aren't you?

[m1d-45]

my take on sagau lore / logistics

summary: sagau lore! includes you the creator, self-awareness, khaenri’ah, celestia, literally everything i could think of

word count: ~4.1k

-> warnings: spoilers for literally everything bar the sumeru archon quests. khaenri’ah lore, kaeya + albedo lore, celestia lore, archon quests, all of it. i ramble and stray off topic and swear while doing so.

-> lowercase intended. forgive the format pls

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie

< masterlist >

ok, so, just off the top of it, let’s address the largest problem with this au, specifically my genre of it:

how can teyvat be real if it’s a game?

great question! the answer is that it’s both.

i haven’t thought this through entirely, only enough that i personally can suspend my disbelief about the fics i read, but the way i see it is that you, the creator, made teyvat a billion (or more idk) years ago. you made the people—or the animals, if you still wanna subscribe to evolution—the lands, the waters and the mountains. everything was carefully pulled and molded by your hands, your influence stretching to how the wind blew.

(that’s because the god who controls it wants your attention so badly but whoooo that’s cultish territory)

anyway. fast-track past the archon war, yeah? after that was sorted, you began to hand out visions, personally at first before assigning celestia to do so. there were simply too many people, and you could not judge them all. it would not be fair.

so you didn’t.

but i’d be lying if the archon war didn’t take a toll on you. you’d been influencing it from the sidelines, carefully making sure as few innocents were harmed as possible, trying to keep the terrain intact. you were technically fighting, but on the side of teyvat itself.

(it loved you for it. every blade of grass and leaf on a stem sung your praises.)

micromanaging like that, across an entire planet, let alone trying to simultaneously set up the constellations you wanted for vision holders… you’re exhausted.

now, you could, in theory, just burrow down into the heart of the earth and rest, but that felt… impersonal, almost. you still wished to look after your world, you just wanted to have a little less responsibility while you did so.

so you left the planet, momentarily, leaving that entire universe behind, and made another. it was, admittedly, not your best work, worse than even the rest planets you tried before teyvat, but you were tired. you half-heartedly scattered some resources, salted the water, and placed the beginnings of life. with a final goodbye to celestia, you allowed your soul to rest in the core of this new planet you called ‘earth.’

now, you weren’t just going to sit there, no. as the people above lived, oblivious to the god resting in the molten core, your subconscious pulled some strings. not enough to influence wars—so many wars, so much cruelty and bloodshed—or any major occurrences, but enough to shift some small details around. these people would start a company. this game would be launched. and when you, your soul, had finally recovered from the ordeal of managing a whole planet, a child would be born.

you knew mortal minds had a hard time conceptualizing the divine, let alone dealing with the knowledge that they were one, so you made the executive decision to remove your memory. call it a product of your pity, but you decided you’d live a human life here before returning to teyvat. the world’s time difference shouldn’t make it that much longer for your lovely followers, only about a year or so, so it would be fine. you set up some dominoes, then allowed yourself to be mortal when they fell.

bad call. turns out you shouldn’t try and fudge space-time when you’re overworked and burnt out. the time dilation ended up being reversed, meaning an average life of 80 years was 4,800 years for your followers.

still, not all was lost! you, human, came into contact with a device, came into contact with advertisements from a company you, god, had a heavy hand in. the world you had loved carefully recreated, admittedly with far less detail and nuance, but what could you expect of the technology at the time?

as you downloaded the game, a final domino fell into place. the traces of divinity in your blood bled into your machine, turning the screen from a screen, and into a portal.

billions of billions of light years away, exiting this universe and entering another, two twins approached your world. they had witnessed you build it all but frowned at your lack of presence. their world, one of many that you had also crafted, still was visited by you from time to time, but this... where had you gone? were your people okay?

they approached, only to be stopped by one of celestia’s guards. boiling red cubes stung the air, lashing at their sides as she—the sustainer, she said—fought. the two drew back, sharing a look, and when they dove-

your light filled the air, time seeming to slow to a crawl. your chosen traveller sucked in a breath, feeling the familiar aura envelop them. even as their twin was swallowed, as their stomach opened into a pit and their heart crumbled, as gravity took hold of their suddenly much weaker form, you were there.

and so your journey in teyvat began once more, this time not as the creator, but as the creation.

that’s the basic lore down. yes, i know ‘basic’ took nearly 1k words on its own, but oh well. anyway, now onto some other details outside of that, such as….

the raiden shogun!

the visions were signs of your favor—not that the comman man knew that, but the gods did—so why would she ever confiscate them? simple; after you had started giving out visions, you had first passed the duty to celestia, and then… left. it’s reasonable, in her mind, that the visions were sapping at your energy, keeping you away even longer. she hoped, in a twisted sort of desire, that she could hasten your return. celestia had tried to stop her, stopping giving out electro visions, but it wasn’t enough. other visions were still in her lands, and she needed to remove them. if only on her isle of eternity, anything harming you would not be allowed.

the tsaritsa!

ok, i admit, i’m not sure how much of what i’m about to say is canon. i watch too much game theory to be 100% sure that this is Actual Lore, but… whatever. so the tsaritsa is collecting all these gnoses, right? the gods’ connection to celestia? just… kinda taking them, collecting these connections, weakening celestia so she can take it down. her reasoning is very similar to ei’s, in that you created celestia and imbued it with some of your power. however, you must have accidentally given too much, wanting them to thrive, and had weakened yourself. so, she figures, by taking down celestia, she can restore you your strength!

but wait, you ask, why not do a vision hunt decree like the shogun? simple! you gave out visions before you involved celestia, so they clearly aren’t the problem. besides, she thinks there’s a lovely poetic quality to taking down celestia with soldiers bearing weapons they awarded.

delusions!

it’s people sabotaging their health to pretend their strength is god-given, not much changes in this au. there’s implications between it and the tsaritsa’s motives for gnosis-hunting—notably if she’s taking down celestia because your strength was drained, why drain the strength of her people—but that’s ~not my problem~

morax?

morax!!! silly boy. anyway, he doesn’t see any problem with stepped down as an archon, if that’s your worry. after all, you yourself left, letting the people run themself, so…. surely he could—should, even—do the same. he feels maybe a bit bad about leaving liyue without anything, but soothes himself knowing they don’t know you’re gone. most mortals don’t, really. but in a similar vein…

venti!

venti feels the same way. if anything, his conviction is even stronger. you left your people—not entirely, admittedly, but still, you did—so he should be able to as well. he knew you had left celestia in your wake, but he had left the knights! and surely, to be overly-controlling was worse, right? you had allowed decarabian to fall, so you must not want dictators(a good thing, as he doesn’t know how he’d handle you going against one of his most core virtues).

celestia!

for the sake of the au, celestia will be kinda proxy rulers of teyvat. i know there’s probably some lore out there suggesting otherwise, likely something in the 3.2-3.3 archon quests, but i haven’t done those and so it can’t be held against me. anyway, you’re tired after the war right? so you decide, as plan A, to create celestia as a council of proxy rulers, to enact your ideals—the heavenly principles—and take care of things. this goes south, because the act of creating celestia drains even more of your strength, and you really hadn’t taken a break since you started creating teyvat so maybe it’s time to pick up plan B off the back burner…

(in celestia’s opinion, burrowing into the earth should have been plan B. taking a nap in a gilded palace should have been plan C. leaving the planet entirely was the nuclear option.)

paimon!

OOOOHHHHH BOYYYYY the emotions i have about this little fairy aidjwrkfkkds

anyway. the way i see it, she’s a manifestation of the remaining divine energy in your body/teyvat. pick your favorite, the end result is the same: she’s attached to your traveller, to you, your device. she can vaguely sense the buttons you have—which is why the tutorial changes across platforms—and loves whenever you open the paimon menu, because she can bask in your light all the more. off camera, her and the traveller gush about you. canon, i said so.

anyway, she’s the one that gives us the ability to time travel so the way i see it, she has to be at least a little divine, or be able to wield power of that strength.

take a shot every time i say strength this fic

i have some feelings about the time mechanic, most notably that it’s likely an alteration of the (very scuffed) time dilation system you implemented, but i’m writing this during school hours and can’t really be bothered with trying to rationalize that. for now, just know that Its a Thing That Exists.

co-op!

if we’re operating under the ideal that your game is the only one self-aware, then how does co-op work?

um… it doesn’t—

ok ok ok uh there’s two interpretations you can go with, of which i don’t have a favorite:

Option 1: when you go to co-op, your (self-aware) characters are transported into the digital world of your companion. they’re confused, because everything seems flat and empty of detail and there’s these weird bars above enemies and HOLY SHIT IS THAT ME???

they eventually gather that this is a false recreation of teyvat, one run by another person. whether or not they can see the chat is up to you. umm regarding farming and stuff: that means tackling the inventory, which… i’ll talk about that later, i swear-

Option 2: when you enter co-op, you leave teyvat. your vessels go back to their places—again, i’ll touch on that later, promise—and your aura leaves. paimon’s the only constant, but that’s mostly because she follows you or the traveller at all times (if you don’t have your traveller on your team… wait a few paragraphs pls). she is fascinated by the digital world, more so of the replicas of your vessels within it. maybe she tells the traveller of it when they have time.

they’re kinda similar, boiling down to whether or not you want your vessels to have a cosmic-horror level freak out at the fact that that’s them. i don’t have a favorite, and usually kinda fluctuate between the two whenever it’s convenient.

the inventory!

the inventory!!! arguably the most convenient system in teyvat, of which my answer is wildly inconvenient.

the basic principle of it is that it’s a pocket dimension, much like the one paimon vanishes into. it’s a very cool pocket dimension, with a menu and filtration systems, but that’s all it is. it preserves the quality of food, it keeps things from burning each other(i. e. mist flower corollas and flaming flower stamens are right next to each other, yet the quality of both never dwindles), and generally keeps things frozen in a sort of stasis. i like to think that vessels with a good sense of detail can pick up on an odd taste/texture to the food if it’s been in there a while, with the effect lessening as the food quality(suspicious → delicious scale) and level (stars) increases, but it really doesnt impact anything all that much.

regarding co-op: this is where things get blurry. if the inventory is a pocket dimension, and co-op is fake…. the best option is to, once more, chalk it up to divinity. whether yours, as you pick them from the digital world, of the remains of your aura in teyvat, when you return.

(another option that doesn’t work as well is thinking of the inventory as a tally, as in there’s a number of items you have and when you access it the number goes down and it summons / creates the item. the number is a representation of the power stored for that specific item- kinda like the omni-ubiquity nets, i guess? anyway, this is kinda pushing things, and though i don’t prefer it, it definitely can be useful to think about in some situations, such as an imposter au where you(reader) can draw energy from the inventory via sacrificing food or supplies. that’s really cool actually wtf-)

KHAENRI’AH HOW COULD I FORGET KHAEN-

so. khaenri’ah.

….i don’t know a lot about the lore of khaenri’ah.

[one wiki check and a lot of deleted ranting later]

khaenri’ah was a godless nation. it didn’t have a god ruling over it, it didn’t have a god influencing or building it, it didn’t have a - oh my god khaenri’ah is the nation of hubristic greed.

sorry i had a revelation mid-sentence there: to clarify, khaenri’ah was built entirely by people. they may (read: did) worship a god, you, but refused to allow you to meddle with their nation. that was their creation. you could have all of teyvat—and they would give you some of their crops to try and satisfy you—but you could not have their nation. they lived underground, away from your holy light and the overbearing gaze of celestia, and in the dark of a cave with only the earth as their witness, they began to learn khemia. they began to learn how to create, how to mimic your power. theirs was more transmutation, less pure creation, but it was so close to it that rhinedottir let it get to her head. she started her program, created durin and [REDACTED]- sorry, subject two (have i mentioned how much i hate he doesn’t have a name? fucked up fr fr). eventually, finally, after many tests and trials and rifthounds, with abyssal magic beginning to stain her hands, she created synthetic life.

the port on its neck sealed into a shimmering star, crystal blue eyes fluttering open, chalk ribs expanding as it took a breath. gold watched with rapt attention, pen falling from her hand.

she’d done it.

high on joy, she kept going, neglecting her new creation, herself, neglecting even basic safety, and eventually, she had toppled the pride of man.

khaenri’ah fell.

this allows for khaenri’ans such as dainslef, albedo, and kaeya to all know of and worship you—important, since kaeya is a character we’re automatically given—while still being bitter and jaded over khaenri’ah. this keeps as much of the lore in-game as intact as possible, with the only big difference being that khaenri’ah dedicated itself to you, but it would not be influenced by you. it was toppled by its own hubris, its desire to be divine without ever worshipping the god that made them too much for mortal men to handle. they don’t hate you, and in fact the fall of their nation has made it clear that they should have respected you more. they don’t blame you for it, as it was their own desire that brought them down, but they are a little more aware of the power of a god.

FAQ!!

i don’t have the traveller on my team, how does that work lore-wise?

excellent question! i…. don’t really know—

the way i see it, this is mostly a problem attached to the concept of ‘parties’ in the first place(again, please put a pin in the idea, we’re almost there). paimon is always with us, but the traveller… since they don’t have ‘a place to be’ as with your other vessels, as you were with them from the start… you could say that they’re always with you. silently watching from the realm of stars just outside of reality, watching you level your characters and give them strength. they wish you could pay more attention to them, but they know that teyvat is your prize creation, the people within it your most beloved. while you had encouraged them and their sibling to traverse your other worlds, it made sense that you’d want to empower these people first. your choices were.. odd, but you seemed happy, mostly, so they were too. ultimately, they are just another of your creations, and they want you to be happy just as the others do.

what happens when the game closes?

this connects to both the party system and the ‘realm of stars’ i mentioned in the traveller’s section. now, the personal belief i subscribe to is that it’s… another pocket dimension sorry—

akcnkwdjdkd ok so you know in the character menu how the background is all hazy and star-like and tinted the color of their element? i think the hydro’s have bubbles floating around but i have just spent too much time in enkanomiya-

anyway, that’s a ✨separate dimension✨. i imagine its like a line, where your characters are arranged like the bar on the side (top if you’re a pc gamer). characters can look over if they wish, though that’s dependent on some other factors (i know this is already long but i’ll elaborate on this later). the poses for weapons, artifacts, etc. are all forced on them, like strings on a puppet—war flashbacks for my scaramouche. they’re tugged into place, and stay like that. your mains are used to you fussing about with their artifacts, and have learned to simply rest into the feeling. why shouldn’t they, after all?

ANYWAY this is getting long. so when you’re in the field, your characters fall away save your party members, who move to the odd starry landscape of the party menu. there’s a large screen, which allows them to see like it’s your screen, almost. there’s a health bar, they can see the energy, and though that’s about it the important bit is that they can still see the character on field and the battle around them. this way they know what to expect, and where to aim, where to brace for an impact because sorry, they have the most hp and you need to tank this hit. when the game closes, you swap team members, etc. they are transported back to where they were prior to being on your team. now, for those you don’t utilize as often, they aren’t fully pulled into the character menu, as this would cause complications, but they are vaguely aware of when you open it. this way they can prepare in the rare case you switch to them for whatever reason.

additionally, when you shut down genshin, the traveller takes your characters’ place. they hold your place, often using the time to catch up with paimon and eat, both talking about their separate perspectives on your battle. paimon from the outside, watching the vessels switch in a shower of gold sparks, and the traveller from the inside, watching them lean on each other when their health was low and swap encouraging phrases during a tough fight. the traveller can’t really move all that much, but they don’t have to stay very still—what’s the chance you’ll notice they’re facing the wrong direction anyway?—which is good since they may have to defend themself against any enemies wandering in. if they’re off your team and unbuilt, it’s a little difficult, but between their status as an outlander and paimon’s influence, it’s not that big of a hassle.

(sorry this one’s real long but this is the concept i spent the most time developing. i have a very very long albedo fic where this mechanic is center stage so i have a lot of junk stored in my mind abt it)

what about friendship levels?

friendship levels!!! in-game they’re a metric of how long/much a character is with you, and it’s the same in sagau. the higher a character’s friendship, the more of your aura they emit by proxy, since they’re… in the absolute kindest way possible, you know how shoes have to be broken in -? yeah—

the harsh tugs of your device commanding them to move softens into a gentle guide, but they’re so in-tune with your playstyle that they go ahead of the strings, attacking slightly quicker. a high-friendship team has synergy like no other, the characters swapping just before you actually press the button to do so, their elemental reactions booming brighter, skills and bursts doing that much more damage just because they know what their doing by heart. they’re certain they could replicate it even without you, though they’d never dare, and your main sometimes finds themself repeating your usual rotation in their head to help them. swap, skill, swap, skill, burst, they mutter, their fingers tapping along where the buttons would be as they try to puzzle something out. swap, skill, swap, passive, swap, the familiar routine providing comfort.

how does the concept of being “self-aware” work?

lovely question.

…

it doesn’t.

jsksskdjd i feel like a software developer— ANYWAY-

google defines self-aware as “having conscious knowledge of one's own character and feelings”, which isn’t (inherently) the case. in relation to video games, it’s usually something along the lines of “this game is aware it’s a game” which doesn’t work since, as we’ve established, teyvat isn’t a game.

in this case, being self-aware means recognizing that you are operating through a device. it means knowing that you are not controlling them directly, that you instead use a proxy. it means, for characters like albedo, recognizing the sticky binds of code that limit his movements, it means registering that you are still far, far away, and that you only feel this close because of your device. it means, for some such as, say, diluc, there wasn’t a reason why kaeya was a vessel before him. it means knowing that their god is still lost, and knowing that they have to ensure you come back safely.

and that’s about it! discarding some icky topics such as the semantics of an isekai (which boils down to tapping into the divinity stored in your device so it doesn’t really matter much either way) and the abyss (which i don’t know enough about lore-wise, sorry) that’s everything i keep in mind when i write my genshin impact self-aware works!

if you have any further questions, feel free to either reply or send in an ask, or check out my masterlist if you want to see these concepts in practice.

have a good one!

[satansapostle6]

Lovers and Liars | Draco Malfoy

Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott, both determined and resourceful from reputable houses, find themselves at odds in the name of love.

Warning: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five: Fear and Games

Draco’s many fears never seemed to escape him. Despite Lorelei’s efforts, Draco only ever dreamt of killing Albus Dumbledore. Vivid and unpleasant dreams plagued him nearly every night; Lorelei could hardly remember the last time Draco had slept through the night. Every night and morning was filled with terror and sweat for him. Lorelei knew it was one of the hardest things to witness.

Almost every night, she would end up cradling Draco in her arms as she shushed him gently, making up a different little lullaby every night just to drown out the screaming in his head. Thankfully, Draco knew, Lorelei would never desert him. She was as loyal as could be, even in spite of his harsh moods.

“Draco.”

Lorelei sat up tiredly, lighting the lamp on the bedside table as she sensed Draco’s night terrors beginning. He was fidgeting and whipping around in between the sheets, thrashing about as if he were having some sort of seizure.

“Draco,” Lorelei repeated, gently trying to wake him.

She watched worriedly. Draco was sweating profusely, his head twitching as he tried to fight nothing, still sound asleep. Lorelei’s least favorite part about taking care of him during his nightmares was waking him up. He was a heavy sleeper, and was never easy to wake up. Still, Lorelei hadn’t figured out how to wake him without startling him.

“Draco!”

Lorelei carefully shook him awake, hoping he wouldn’t panic like he sometimes did. Once she had shaken him awake, he woke with a start, shooting up in terror. Draco found himself sat up in bed, still half dreaming as Lorelei steadied him with her hand on his back, propping him up so that he could breathe.

“Hey,” she whispered, rubbing his back as he turned to look at her.

Draco was still afraid, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. He looked around the room, trying to comfort himself.

“You were having another nightmare,” Lorelei reminded him.

He nodded as she watched him, seeing the thought in his blue eyes. He panted with exhaustion as he looked down at her hand on his knee, squeezing his eyes shut. Draco allowed her to baby him for a moment. He was breathing hard, trying to get his heartbeat to return to normal.

“You’re alright now, my prince. Yeah?” she said affectionately as she smoothed down his hair.

Draco nodded. “Yeah…”

He closed his eyes as she rested his head on her shoulder, kissing the top of his head as he nuzzled into her. Lorelei wrapped her arms around him tightly, the way she knew that he liked, so that he felt extra protected. In his most vulnerable moments, Draco always wanted as little space between his body and Lorelei’s as possible.

“You’re safe now. Nothing’s going to hurt you. I love you,” she hummed, the sound of her voice soothing him. “I love you so much. My heaven on earth.”

“My world,” Draco sighed, finally closing his eyes again as he laid back on her chest, falling asleep again.

*****

The train ride back to Hogwarts was a tense on. Lorelei and Draco had sat at a table with Blaise Zabini, while Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy sat at the table on the other side of the aisle from them. Judging by the lack of Theodore Nott, Lorelei had decided that it was safe to assume that the two of them had only attended Draco’s party as a sort of last resort attempt to rile up the both of them.

Although Lorelei knew that Theo was acting out of desperation, she also knew that he already had significant leverage over both herself and Draco. The question was, why he hadn’t been using it against them. Lorelei knew that Theo wasn’t necessarily the predictable type, but she also knew that he was the sort who would use leverage if he had it. Lorelei knew she had to have a serious conversation with Draco at some point. But now was not the time.

Draco had been nothing if not jumpy from the moment they had arrived in London. As of late, he had paranoid, and moody. For good reason. These days, Draco mostly acted out of fear, for his family’s lives. But he was also afraid of many other things, like being discovered as a Death Eater, or losing who he was fighting in a war that wasn’t his.

“What the hell was that?!”

“Draco,” Lorelei stopped him as he walked down the aisle of the train.

He had been startled by the sudden magical darkness that had washed over their immediate vicinity.

“It’s alright, Draco,” Lorelei caressed his arm, “Someone’s just played a trick as all.”

She ushered the reluctant Draco to where Blaise was sitting, trying to keep him calm. But with Draco, it was a lost cause.

“Hogwarts isn’t that far,” she assured him, “Just try to relax.”

“Hogwarts,” Draco said bitterly, as Blaise just entertained himself with Draco’s irritable mood. “What a pathetic excuse for a school.”

Lorelei just signed as she braced herself for another angry rant, sitting forward in her seat. She was also irritated by the long black sleeves she had to wear, since she’d forgotten to cover her tattoo.

“I think I’d pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower if I had to continue for another two years,” Draco continued muttering.

“Draco, you need to finish school,” Lorelei stated.

Blaise hardly hid his smirk as the two of them bickered.

“You know,” Pansy leaned in across the aisle, “You shouldn’t tell him what to do. He’s perfectly ready to leave Hogwarts now, if he wants.”

“I’m not taking advice from the girl who’s been hung up on the same boy for six years, thanks,” Lorelei chided before returning to her conversation.

“I’m serious, Lorelei,” Draco insisted. “I refuse to waste my time in Charms class next year.”

“Oh, you refuse, do you?” Lorelei raised an eyebrow.

Blaise let out a snide snort as Draco snapped at him.

“Amused, Blaise?” he demanded confrontationally. “We’ll see just who’s laughing in the end.”

“Don’t be a prick,” Lorelei muttered, digging through her pocket. “Here. Have some chocolate. You’re more annoying when you don’t eat.”

Draco maintained his silence out of spite, still snatching the snack from her as he sat quiet in his seat. Lorelei was looking out the window beside her as Draco looked directly above his head, stuck on the rack above the table. Lorelei turned to face him, concerned.

“What is it?” she mouthed.

Draco looked at her angrily, subtly cocking his head up at the bags above them.

“Potter,” he mouthed back silently.

Lorelei just sighed as she reached for the magazine she’d brought with her, fully aware that she was in for a long night. She got up to use the restroom about a half hour later, simply accepting the fact that, for some reason, Harry Potter had decided to use his Invisibility Cloak to spy on the two of them. Lorelei knew it was a bit of a reach, but even the idea of Harry having an inkling about Draco’s plan did not sit well with her.

But unfortunately, life decided that the two of them didn’t have enough problems as it was. Lorelei had a strange feeling that it would happen, but she was still surprised when Theodore Nott stopped her on her way to the bathroom.

“Lorelei.”

She whipped around vigorously after feeling his hand on her shoulder, having forgot for just a moment that she couldn’t just punch Theo.

“What do you want?” she demanded.

“I missed you too,” Theodore said sarcastically as he towered over her.

Lorelei scoffed at his gall. “Well, you sure have a strange way of showing it. Showing up to Draco’s party with Pansy? Are you that desperate?” she questioned.

“Pansy’s a friend,” Theo smirked, as she physically recoiled. “We have a lot in common.”

“Yes, that you’re both a couple of leeches,” she told him, “Now move.”

“Not until you admit that you missed this,” Theo refused, looking hungrily into her eyes.

Lorelei scoffed, finding herself in awe of Theodore Nott’s tenacity.

“Theo, I don’t love you,” she promised him, thinking back to when the two of them were together, “In fact, if anything, being with Disco has shown me that I don’t think I ever did, in the first place.”

He studied her for a moment, searching for any of her weaknesses.

“Well that’s funny,” he said, “Because being apart from you has only shown me how much I really love you.”

Lorelei looked at him curiously.

“Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘too little, too late’?”

“I know I did you wrong in the past, Lorelei,” Theo promised her. “I known that now… You might not think I’m capable of change, but after I started to get bits and pieces back from the Memory Charm, I saw things in a whole new light… I saw the person I really had when we were together. I saw how much you loved me.”

“Then why keep playing these games?!” she said angrily.

“Would you want me if I didn’t?” Theo asked her.

That was when a hint of fear showed on her face.

“You think you want love, you think you want peace and quiet, but it’s more than that,” he whispered, as they lingered in a dark corner. “You need pain. You need excitement. You don’t want to ask yourself if you want someone, you need to feel consumed by the very thought of them.”

“You don’t know me,” Lorelei promised him.

“Yes, I do,” Theo stated, “That’s why you hate me so much. Because I’m always right.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I know you, Lorelei Morrigan,” Theodore breathed, “My heart is just as dark as yours. I love you, more than someone as shallow and spineless as Malfoy ever could.”

“You’re insane,” Lorelei said finally, seeing through him for a moment. “You know nothing about Draco and I. You think he couldn’t do the things you would for me, but you’re wrong.”

Theodore Nott looked down at her critically, listening as wholeheartedly as he could.

“Unlike you, Draco sets store by his own values. He remembers what’s important to him even when the world starts crashing down around him,” Lorelei asserted. “Draco cares about me, but he also cares about his family, and his future. He would never start blowing that all up just because I made him angry.”

“Because he lacks conviction, Lorelei,” Theo argued. “That’s what I’ve been saying. He doesn’t love you. Not really. He’s not prepared to commit to you the way I am. He could never be the partner you deserve.”

“A partner gives the one that they love the world,” she looked at him coldly.

“Do you honestly doubt that I’d give you the entire world?” Theodore Nott asked.

“What’s the point of giving me the world if you already destroyed it in the process?” she reasoned, unimpressed by him. “I am in love with Draco Malfoy. Do not attempt to sway me, because you will be very disappointed.”

“You can never stop me from loving you, Lorelei,” Theo said angrily. “I’ve changed. I won’t stop until I’ve made you the happiest woman in the world.”

“Then you’ll be waiting a very long time,” she concluded.

“I have a plan, Lorelei. The Dark Lord will see my value,” he continued. “He’ll reward me, with you by my side.”

“Don’t underestimate us, Theo. We’ve got a plan, too,” she told him. “And we’ve got a Hogwarts professor on our side.”

Theodore stared at her, questioning whether or not what she’d divulged was actually true. Lorelei left him alone in the compartment with his thoughts.

*****

“Didn’t Mummy ever tell you it was rude to eavesdrop, Potter? Petrificus Totalus!”

Lorelei dutifully stood by the door as Draco paralyzed Harry, who had been listening to their conversation with Blaise the entire time on the train. Harry Potter had used his Invisibility Cloak to spy on Draco from up above, which, obviously, neither he nor Lorelei could let slide. But of course, Lorelei couldn’t let anything happen to Harry. All she could really do was use her influence to make Draco’s retribution less severe.

“Oh, yeah. She was dead before you could wipe the drool off your chin,” Draco amused himself as he tried to decide what to do with Harry’s paralyzed form.

“Come on, Draco,” Lorelei urged him, “Let’s just leave him. Everyone’s leaving.”

“Yeah. Right…”

Draco tried to listen to her, but all he could think about was his father, being sent away to Azkaban at the start of the summer. And of course, Harry Potter was free to do as he pleased. Lorelei knew there was no one else Draco had ever hated so harshly and truly. She watched as Draco snapped, kicked Harry hard in the face as he was completely at Draco’s mercy, at least for the time being.

“That’s for my father,” Draco hissed spitefully, “Enjoy your ride back to London.”

Draco threw the Invisibility Cloak back over him, taking comfort in the idea of Harry being powerless to stop him from sending him back home. A year at Hogwarts completely without Harry sounded like heaven to Draco. He sneered triumphantly as he looked down at Harry’s invisible, still form. Lorelei looked at him urgently, redirecting his attention.

“We need to go,” she told him.

“Right,” Draco said under his breath, as the two left the train.

They both quickly hopped off and looked around nervously, not wanting any witnesses. Once they had both determined that the coast was clear, Draco took Lorelei’s hand and led her off the platform. Eventually, the couple arrived at the carriages bringing all of the students to the castle, waiting for an empty one to pull up. Lorelei smiled at the black horse-like creatures pulling the carriage, standing on her toes as she pet one.

“What are you doing?” Draco asked with a furrowed brow.

“Petting the thestrals,” she answered simply.

He frowned, not understanding. “‘Thestrals’?”

“Pulling the carriage,” Lorelei stated.

This seemed like news to him.

“But the carriages have always pulled themselves,” Draco corrected her insistently.

“No. It’s always been thestrals,” Lorelei informed him. “They just only appear to people who’ve witnessed death,” she explained.

He said nothing, thinking to himself for a while as they rode to the school’s gates together in a carriage, which should have been much more pleasant and romantic of an affair than it actually was. The two of them walked up to where Mr. Filch was inspecting everyone’s belongings for the sake of security, shocked to find Harry Potter able to make it. Draco gave his girlfriend a look, and she knew he wouldn’t be able to let it go anytime soon.

Needless to say, he was in quite the foul mood the entire time Filch went through their belongings.

“Is this poison?” the caretaker asked crassly as he held a violet glass bottle he’d found in Lorelei’s bag.

“No, you mong, it’s perfume!” Draco snapped impatiently.

Lorelei just gave him a look.

“And how would you know?” Filch questioned.

“Because I bought if for her in Italy myself?” Draco spat.

Filch just frowned disapprovingly as he smelled the contents of the small bottle and put it back. He continued inspecting both of their luggage.

“What’s this cane here?”

“It’s not a cane, you cretin, it’s a walking stick!” Draco growled.

“Draco,” Lorelei cooed, gently caressing his arm.

“And what, exactly, would you be doing with a walking stick?” Filch persisted.

Draco scowled unpleasantly. “Take a guess.”

“Well, this here could be construed as an offensive weapon,” Filch thought aloud.

Lorelei turned to face Draco, realizing that he was growing more and more irritated by the minute. She usually had the power to control his mood pretty well in situations like this, but at the moment, Draco was far too crabby to keep from losing his temper. But luckily, Professor Snape arrived before things could get much worse.

“It’s alright, Mr. Filch. I can vouch for Mr. Malfoy,” Snape offered coolly.

“I don’t need any help,” Draco said stubbornly, only to be ignored by everyone.

Snape and Filch dealt with one another as Lorelei tried to keep Draco pacified, not at all succeeding as he remained distracted by Harry’s bloody nose.

“Nice face, Potter.”

Lorelei sighed.

-

Chapter Twenty-Six

[importantdestinydefendor]

For the WIP ask game: I'd love it if you shared more about 'Illness from Within' (I don't know whether it's fic or original, but the title intrigued me). Also, if you're up for it, choose whatever other WIP you'd most like to talk about and share something about that one too?

Oh boy! This is going to be tough to decide about which other WIP I'm going to talk about (I will make a seperate post for that and tag you).

But before that, we have the star of this ask: Illness from Within! *loud applause*

I actually already talked about this WIP once before on my block. It is this post! (aaand I also shared some older art for it as well.) But I will repeat what I have said in the first post here again.

----

Illness from Within is my original book and is sort of high fantasy. I have been writing it since 2021 and have been stuck in Chapter 6 for a year now (and have been side tracked by my fanfics and other book ideas lol).

This story takes place in a different world, where the flora and fauna is giant. In the middle of a vast forest is a tiny city surrounded by huge walls to protect it from the forest. This city is the only one for miles on this land mass and is ruled by a powerful and wise Queen, Freya. Once this kingdom was bigger, but a civial war had devided it's people thousends of years ago. Thus this tiny kingdom was left. The other half retreated to the other end of the continent but nobody really knows what they are doing but they are rumoured to be barbarians now. Our three protagonists are the head of the guards of this kingdom, Aage, the old royal doctor and merchant, Samir, and Levin, a sickly young man who is being sponsored by Aage and treated by Samir. The story takes them outside their kingdom's walls to find a cure as Samir's resources inside are getting exhausted. He makes a medicine so that Levin can travel and the three of them have a journey and meet the gods. The first one is the god of life, Celeste, who they ask to heal the youngest but even though they can't take something away after it came to life. Thus they venture on to find the other god. The three then get caught up between a war that broke out between the kingdom and the "barbarians" due to there being a moule in the kingdoms ranks. Our three protagonists accidentally get swallowed by the earth with the enemy and meet the god of death, Amon. They manage to leave (not before asking death to heal Levin, but he must die for that to happen) and the war stops as the enemy's leader stays in the realm of death as punishment. The leader wanted to bring ruin to the kingdom and take over the land mass. He wanted to spare no one. In the end, the medicine is actually enough for Levin to live quite a normal life. Samir does not acceptedthis out come and tries to find a cure for the rest of his life. He dies without achieving it. Levin is the one telling this story when he is an old man and living to the age of 80. He himself became a doctor in the end.

So, yeah! That was it. I actually just put the entire plot here but I just really really love these little guys and the themes. And I am so proud about the ending - that sometimes you have to accept that you have tried your best but couldn't fix every problem.

I will try to decide on another WIP to talk about (or even two!).

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Okay, I might be missing a lot of things here, and I am hoping someone can clear this up for me with some understanding and nuance... But like all religious aspects of this asides, and if you set aside whatever cultural reasons this is happening despite the extreme loss of life etc... Just speaking politically, as a nation, here on earth with ongoing earth politics... What does Israel -the government responsible in this- think it is accomplishing?

Like yes, outwardly their arguments, Zionism, is about taking a homeland "back" and just ignoring that the people who currently live there are natural born residents that shouldn't be forced out of their homes, but if we set that asides for a second, what do they think is ACTUALLY going to happen? Long term.

Say they succeed in their aims, right? Say they wipe out every Palestinian so there's no one to challenge their claim to that land, and everyone in power helped them do it. Say they get that land. Say they successfully scapegoat anti-Zionist Jewish people into taking the heat world over, and that's a successful distraction.

What do they think happens next?

Do they think they get to rebuild a nation there and be left in peace?

Ignore religious and cultural implications for a second and bear with me...

You have a land that's recently been utterly destroyed. Even if a nation's worth of Zionists, and everyone who's kind of stuck trying to live under the Israeli government who had no real say in this, swoop in after and rebuilt it for themselves.. What do they think their political position will be in the world after that, or during it?

In a world where antisemitism is at an all time high, globally, and they just alienated and antagonized all other Jewish people and all allies by doing a fucking genocide... With their military force depleted and this land they just won torn to shreds...

Do they think countries like America selling them guns now are going to keep supporting them and giving them resources to build themselves up?

Or do they realize it's far more likely that they will immediately become the next target, the next political enemy of the USA, because they are a small, now exhausted nation of a minority group that just ensured no one will come to their rescue or defense?

America will see the error of their ways, they were 'lied to' documents have come out showing what really happened there and they had 'no idea' and now Israel "needs to answer for it's war crimes :("...

Because every instinct tells me that any nation helping them take over this land and promising to help rebuild it isn't doing it to help Israel... They are doing it so that once the dust settles Israel will be standing weakly on a broken land and be easy to knock down to take whatever natural resources are left with no resistance.

... Like idk THE FUCKING OIL... Which I doubt miraculously stops right at Gaza's borders and etc just because it hasn't been dug up there yet...

At best this is about access to that oil and their allies will only use them so long as that oil is handed to them for peanuts and after that Israel will have served it purpose.

And the citizens of Israel will pay the price, the ones who were as stuck with their government as the average American is stuck with the GOP, and Jewish people the world over will pay for something they never wanted and were against all along.

The only conclusion I can draw from this is whoever is in power here is using it to make a quick buck and bail, and is just taking advantage of Zionism to do it, and that everyone is going to end up completely fucked even if they succeed, maybe even the USA and whoever was responsible for this in the governments lending a hand to Israel when it becomes really clear in hindsight -to the general public- that this genocide was over some fucking oil. That they destroyed the people and land of an entire nation for a few more years of accelerated global warming.

Do the people fighting and bombing and supporting this not see the pattern here? Or are they mostly in on it? They have to be in on it because all that's going to be left is rubble and tears in the land. They can't possibly think they will take on America next and get anywhere? Or that American aid and charity won't exhaust itself once they have what they want? [And I am referring to Canada's alliance with the states and involvement in this too]

Do we need to remind anyone of America's history involving itself in the affairs of other nations? It's very recent and ongoing 'history'... Or is that understanding unspoken and simmering under the layer of horrors we're a little distracted by at the moment?

That this is about oil, that there will be no homeland for anyone, just more blood. Just a graveyard torn open and bleeding black.

[drama-glob]

Hellaverse Sinner theory:

Once upon a time, Sinners who fell into Hell were able to traverse all 7 rings, with Pride merely being their first stop upon arrival from Earth. For a long time, there was no problem with the numbers of Sinners who came in by the day. But eventually, the numbers of Sinners in every ring grew so high that they were beginning to encroach upon the Hellborns and their living spaces, crowding them out and even getting violent with them.

Due to being more powerful than the regular/standard Hellborns, the Sinners killed many of them and took over much of their lands, straining and even exhausting resources for any Hellborns who were still alive. It got bad enough that the Hellborns were starting to become endangered if not at risk of becoming extinct. The authorities of Hell, the Deadly Sins -but mainly Lucifer himself- took action to try and put a stop to this. But their attempts proved ineffective due to the Sinners' immortality, and more Sinners continued to arrive in Hell from Earth without stopping.

The chaos caused by the ever-increasing Sinners reached a point that it got Heaven's attention. Out of options, Lucifer begged Heaven to do something about this 'overpopulation crisis'. So the angels sent down a number of their own, the Exorcists, to kill off the Sinners that infested the 7 rings, felling them with sweeps like clear-cutting a forest or weeds. The purging was so dramatically extensive (lasting more than a day) that the Exorcists ended up killing off every last Sinner, reducing the Sinner population to zero.

The Exorcists considered their work finished after that. But Lucifer knew that more Sinners will simply arrive from Earth and replace the dead ones, ensuring that the problem will return and never end or go away. When he told them of this technicality, the Exorcists decide to leave behind the weapons they used to kill the Sinners so that they can be used by Hell's denizens to regulate the problem on their own. With that, the black market for angelic weaponry was born.

To ensure that this disaster would never happen again, it was arranged that all Sinners who entered Hell would reside only in Pride - they entered Hell through Pride, so they would stay/live in Pride and die in Pride; this is also so that a closer eye can be kept on the Sinners' numbers, movements, and activities. Lucifer also arranged with Heaven to repeat the fateful extermination on one day a year since the growth of the Sinner population tended to be rapid, somewhat too fast for demons wielding angelic weaponry to handle - that is something Heaven was also aware of. Since the Sinners were confined to Pride at that point, managing the population through extermination could be done at a lesser degree, as it was now easier to find targets.

Thanks to these arrangements, the Hellborn population in the rest of Hell was able to recover until it was stable again. But even after that, the Sinners still remained in Pride, them having been deemed too dangerous to allow free reign anywhere else in Hell ever again.

And that is how things in Hell by the time of the show came to be. What do you think?

Holy crap you put a lot of work and detail into this! This is amazing! ^_^<3 This is honestly really cool and it would be interesting if this is the reason for the Extermination. :) I also like it because from what we've seen of Adam and the Exorcists, they seem to treat the Extermination with glee while there's the chance that Lucifer sees it as being a necessary evil/something for the greater good since the alternative is the extinction of all Hellborn. :)

[spurious]

The Call

(read on AO3)

Rodney gets the call at three in the afternoon on a Tuesday, the phone on his lab desk trilling to life and interrupting his train of thought.

“I swear I’m just going to unplug this thing and make them get me a secretary,” he grumbles—one of the worst things about being back on Earth, working at Area 51 again while various world governments argue about the future of his city, is that he’s so much more reachable now. People who want something from Dr. Rodney McKay no longer have to know someone who knows someone who knows someone at SGC and can get a message into the Atlantis databurst; now every idiot with a minor security clearance can look up Rodney’s goddamn phone number.

“What?” He barks into the phone, scribbling down notations with his other hand.

“Dr. Rodney McKay?” says the voice on the other end, unfamiliar and female.

“Yes, what do you want?”

“I’m calling from Penrose Hospital in Colorado Springs—“

Rodney’s stomach churns at the word “hospital,” and when she says “Colorado Springs” he interrupts, chest tight.

“John? It’s John, isn’t it, he—“

The doctor—or nurse, or receptionist, Rodney’s not listening and frankly doesn’t care, because he’s waving down one of the grunts from the hallway and shouting that he needs to get to Colorado Springs now, is the Daedalus in orbit, or the Hammond?—is saying “yes, Mr. Sheppard indicated you as his next of kin, and…”

About fourteen responses flash through Rodney’s mind then, starting with “It’s Colonel Sheppard,” taking a detour at “I’m his next of kin!?” followed by “Of course I’m his next of kin,” and finally finishing on the important question, which he verbalizes: “Is he alive?”

“Yes,” the woman answers quickly, and Rodney lets out a breath, “he arrived in critical condition, however—“

“I’ll be there in…” Rodney says, snapping his fingers at the frightened Marine he’d flagged down, “fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.”

And then Rodney hangs up the phone and gets on the radio to harangue whoever’s high up enough to make sure he keeps his word; and through a combination of threats, favor-calling, and good old-fashioned shouting, he finds himself running into the ER waiting room at Penrose Hospital.

The whole rigamarole leaves him with only about three uninterrupted minutes to think, during which he works himself into a pretty impressive spiral about what the hell John had gotten himself into—he was supposed to be on leave, for fuck’s sake, and as soon as Rodney’s certain he’s alive he’s going to kill him for making him worry like this.

The anger floods out of him, though, when he’s brought to the little curtained-off area where John is lying in a hospital bed, looking small and exhausted against the stark white sheets.

”Sheppard,” Rodney breathes out, heart hammering in his chest as he crosses the floor and throws himself onto the tiny stool next to the bed. “John.”

John looks wrecked, in a way that’s not wholly unfamiliar to Rodney: there’s gauze and tape across his nose and one cheek, remnants of blood flecked up into his hairline, and the arm that’s laid out over the blanket, IV tucked into the crook of the elbow, is marred by a series of contusions.

Rodney stares, rapt and anxious, as John blinks his eyes open, focusing on Rodney and giving him a dopey little smile.

“You came,” he says, voice soft and raspy.

“Yes, I’m looking forward to the lecture I’ll get from some uniform on not misusing important SGC resources, but what the hell did you expect, that I wouldn’t?”

Rodney wrings his hands, wanting to reach out and touch, reassure himself that John’s alive, heart beating.

There’s another long, slow blink—like the way that cats show affection, Rodney thinks, half-hysterically—and then John tilts his head, thoughtful.

“You beamed in?”

Rodney rolls his eyes. “Yes, keep up please? How else was I supposed to get here fast enough?”

John grins at him, white teeth and little spray of wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, and Rodney wants to strangle him, Rodney wants to kiss him, Rodney wants to wrap him up in fucking bubble wrap and lock him away somewhere safe.

“What the hell happened, Sheppard?”

John looks away, fiddling with the edge of the sheets, and Rodney suddenly knows this injury is the result of some sort of ridiculous extreme sporting endeavor.

“Well, I was on my skateboard…”

“I’m going to kill you,” Rodney growls, furious fondness fluttering in his stomach. “Did you break any bones? You’re not getting any younger, you know?” He breaks his self-imposed rule of not touching then, palpating across the expanse of John’s body, half self-soothing and half an attempt to catalog the damage. “You obviously hit your head, which, well, I don’t think I need to remind you just how many head injuries you’ve sustained already—or maybe I do, maybe the brain damage has already set in and that’s why you’ve done something so reckless, so idiotic that—“

Quicker than Rodney would expect from a man drugged to the gills on pain meds, John’s hand comes up, fingers tangling with Rodney’s and squeezing, hard.

“Hey, Rodney?” John says, and Rodney raises an eyebrow, waiting.

“‘M glad you came.”

Rodney flattens his mouth, looks down at their joined hands, and shrugs. “I’ll always come, you know that.”

[pluralsword]

Femslash February 2023: Resolving Hope

Summary:

Unicron and Functionists vanquished and Cybertronian empire dead, Anode, Lug, Arcee, and Aileron are able to get in contact and of course want to meet… but it's not so easy, at least for Arcee, facing death's door and old pains all over again, knowing that Anode and Lug are facing what has exhausted her. When the four meet, they have some things to talk about and celebrate…

This less than 2000 words story is a tie-in to Addendum, and technically happens after most of the chapters are over, but we wanted to release this now as it's own thing because of wanting to write something hopeful and with closure, and because the next third of Addendum that we're going to write will be difficult for us emotionally, and we want to provide a story on it's own that has the reunion we wish canon had had time for. You can read it here or on Ao3! Text of story below if you want to read it on tumblr:

Metroplex, Earth. December 2018 CE

“I’m scared,” I held Aileron’s hand tightly while staring at Metroplex’s round space bridge ring, every ton of my frame trembling thinking about the graveyard turned home to joyful life on the other side of the shimmering bright blue space bridge portal within the ring. “A world transformed for the better, like here… but with corpses from my time or before…” memories of the photos acquired in recent years ran through my mind, of the fields of dozens of dead Titans from my youth or before that had left me feeling empty and cold to see more confirmed deaths of people I knew. 

Corpses now gone after Infinitus attempted to raise them to wipe out everyone on Cybertron who did not fit his Functionism, desecrator, at least the forces of the Council of Worlds and dear pal Windblade laid them all to rest by fire before Unicron consumed them with my old ‘home’.. . and new life was ignited by the Vector Sigma of- of a monument of defeated genocide still turbulent to rise again-  the green-gray space bridge room and the bridge technician bots around us were out of focus to my sight. Even though we’ve talked over comms when it was all over, knowing that two of the bots I thought corpses are alive and over there…

“Tell me about what you’re feeling, darling,” Aileron stepped in front of me, taking hold of my other hand, her broad rounded chest pressed up on me, big air breathing rocket engine shoulders and back wings still, optics holding my gaze.

“I… I don’t understand how Anode and Lug set up a home on Luna 1… how they could be in orbit of a Cybertron bloated from stolen resources that is still coming to terms with the end of the Functionist regime… the risk to their lives along with those kids they’re raising…” they’re on a moon orbiting Cybertron again, and I’m not there with them to stop them from getting killed because I’d rather be here- “I want to be done with Cybertron for now… I don’t think I’m ready to go over there.” I felt my rage and grief boil in my frame, viscerally remembering the touch and trust of the communities with overlaps of fellow trans folks, gals, and people who cared for us who I had lost to or found traumatized survivors from hegemonic violence of the Cybertronian Civil War, the rise of Functionism, and the Great War after or to organic mechanophobia, and knowing the pains of our splinter universe counterpart survivors who resisted Functionist rule on New Cybertron. 

Crasher won’t speak to me because of what she’s done, Vibes and Shatter are missing, Minerva, Rampage, Phreaker, and Trans-Mutate break down frequently when we visit or they’re alone, Lug’s died once already, and Codexa… my back stacks and hands ached to draw my swords, give up teaching and peacebuilding advisory, to step through the space bridge and wage a personal war against any neo-Functionist in the star system beyond. No- I have to let other people do this fight. My optics stayed on Aileron’s through all of this pressure in me, her yellow optics widening and face falling with sadness.

“You’re really upset, I’ve never seen you like this… but you’ve told me…” Aileron smooched the center of my chest lightly before looking back up at me. “All the hurt over what Cybertron’s done to you, would have done to me and did do to my counterpart from the splinter universe- I know it’s hard to face, I can understand wanting to take that rage out, that it feels like it’s displacing the peace you’ve found in yourself.” she embraced me, smiling so softly and sweetly with brightness in her visage as I murmured at her hands touching the bottom of my back stacks. “I know the love and wisdom in you is very strong, and also frustrated. We don’t have to cross- why don’t you comm them through the bridge and ask them to step through-”

Past Aileron’s dome shaped head, I saw a long beige ankle and brown foot and a shorter gray and red counterpart step through the blue swirl of the active space bridge, the rest of the two bot’s frames coming all the way through-

“Aileron, turn around and follow me-” I beamed as droplets streamed down my cheeks, taking in the sight of lanky and winged green and gray Anode and stout and blocky Lug holding hands, the two’s blue optics quickly looking at Aileron facing them and me in turn, wide grins on their faces-

I stepped around Aileron swiftly, running into the amorously remembered pair with tearful laughter flowing from me, and picked up one in each arm in a tight hug, feeling their arms around me, and smooched Anode and Lug’s cheeks in turn before setting them down, my knees bending a little, leaning on them. 

I cried and howled wordlessly, wheels in my ankles and back stacks whirring at full speed, remembered sensations between holding fragments of Lug’s broken armor pieces and seeing the two’s blood on Luna 2 five centuries ago contrasted with holding the two, seeing them, presently in the glow of their yellow-green and cyan biolights signaling =We love you so much= with dilating luminosity, the two also tearful after placing smooches on my own cheeks. Aileron put an arm around me, and nuzzled next to Lug-

“Oh Arcee…” Anode smiled again, a teeth bared lopsided grin that I knew was her cheeky expression, “are you going to go hit a race track, or are you just that glad to see us while with Aileron? Speaking of wheels, they and this robustness is a good look for you, glad you finally got the bravery and did it, though this is different from your drawings...” she rested her head on my chest, looking up at me. “Very you though.” 

“HAHAHAHAHA!” I stood up and plopped a kiss on her helm while Lug and Aileron chuckled, still pressed up on me. “Oh you, dear, darling Anode…” I patted Lug’s head near my waist before letting my hand fall across the side of her helm to touch her chin. “And sweet, dear Lug… I’ve missed you both so much. I never thought I’d see you again…”

“There were a few times while adventuring with Team Rodimus and co. that we thought we weren’t gonna make it to see you again, but we were glad to hear from Nautica and Whirl that you were doing better last time they saw you,” Lug ran hands up and down my lower back. “Hope we’re not being all too much, I know we broke up but-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I did this too,” I pulled an arm away from Lug and put it around Aileron’s shoulders, rubbing her right one steadily, spark warm at her warble and chuckle. “Anode, Lug, Aileron, I’m so glad you three could finally meet in person… dearwing Aileron and I bonded over our loss, and distrust of hierarchy while trying to make the best of the agency we had, and we love to sit looking at polities together… I think you’ll all get along really well.”

“Arcee’s told me so much about you two,” Aileron brought her hands around to be between the four of us, with her two palms open towards Anode and Lug. “I have to agree that we’ll get along fabulously.”

Anode and Lug both placed a hand on hers, the three clasping each other together. I think I’m going to melt - the angst in my frame was gone, warmth and excited calm pulsing in every sensor and circuit instead.

“So we going to finally do Conjunx commitment vows, or what? Suppose we have to wait for us all to really get to know each other,” Anode smirked, and we all cackled again.

“In due time, I think, you jokester, you’re right we have to figure out where we all are in relation to each other,” Lug looked up at me. “You two didn’t cross over the bridge sweetspark, we got worried and decided not to wait. Why the hesitation?”

“I had an anxiety attack,” I smiled at my admittance, proud of myself. “I just- the Cybertron we knew was destroyed only a month ago, and I thought that whole tragic chapter was over, and to know it’s there on the other side of that bridge, and having done more harm than we managed to do, and that you two live orbiting it, only a planetary burn away from another post-war mess… It’s just a lot. I have enough to deal with raising a new generation here and advising New Cybertron and Earth both.” 

In my happiness, I put an arm around Anode, and let myself hope: “let’s see how things go. I might need time, and you probably do too, with all the grief we’ve been through together and that I’ve caused, but I want- I want us to figure things out, and know that we can at the very least have a close friendship. I just want you two to be safe and keep in touch, like Aileron and I do. Please? I can’t bear to lose you to violence again…”

“I promise.” Anode and Lug spoke together, and we all hugged quietly for a little while longer.

“Why don’t we get some rust sticks and go sit on one of the outer low towers?” Aileron stepped back, holding my hand and Lug’s, a glimmer in her optics. “Arcee and I found a nice spot to sit with a beautiful panorama of the polity on and around Metroplex, and of the ocean… there’s a herd of blue whales passing by soon, last I heard from our Titan home, and if we have time, introducing you to Marissa Faireborn, Thundercracker, and their dog Buster, and some of our other pals like Windblade, Chromia, Greenlight, and Lancer...”

“That’s a great idea!” Anode exclaimed while Lug and I nodded. Then Anode inclined her head to the side: “What’s a whale?”

[pridefulrose]

I just want to kind of document how I am feeling with what is happening right now. I remember back in the day when there was this article about how Bezos did not know what to do with all the money he had so he decided to invest in spaceships and space travel not for the bettering of humanity but because he wanted an exclusive trip around the world that not many people could pay. I remember the delusional declarations of Elon Musk saying that we will be able to live on Mars one day. I thought to myself but why? Earth is comfortable and rich and perfect for us. I still remember that he had so much money he said he could give money to the ONU if they could prove to him that world hunger could be eradicated with some of his money and the ONU gave him the exact number to do so and he retracted his statement only for a few months later buy twitter for 4 or more times the amount required to end poverty around the world.

I remember when COVID happened and the people around the world were dying by the thousands but somehow we didn’t have enough money, resources,nurses, doctors or even masks to combat the epidemic. I remember how the growing number of people were by the thousands and how these numbers were considered inaccurate.

I am in University now and people keep complaining about the cuts in programs and budget for students. They were decimating entire faculties because there was not enough money. They barely made any effort to tell the students what were the programs available and then proceeded to tell us the reason why they were taking away these programs were because nobody used them.

I remember that when I was a preteen my father bought me a laptop that lasted my entire high school career until I was in my first university year and this computer lasted me until the second year. That computer was $400 and it was given to a preteen that did not know how to handle carefully a computer and it still lasted YEARS before it died.

I talk to students around my age struggling to buy food, to pay rent. They are exhausted and surviving with caffeine because they cant afford to sleep. A girl told me she was vegetarian and proceeded to tell me that the reason why she was one was because she could not afford to buy meat and she tried to laugh it off. I did not know how to answer so I nodded and I remained quiet. I couldn’t even say anything because what comfort could I give her when we even my refrigerator seems emptier than before.

The students outside of my province and insidemy province got another increment in their tuition this year and every single one of us have thousand of dollars debt.

I remember my mother telling me that a mansion near our house was sold for 350,000$ now you can only buy a small house with two or three room with that price. The dream of having a house of their own has evaporated for thousands of people especially in places like Vancouver and Toronto and New York.

I had to go to the ER the other day and it had always been slow but I have never been so slow for me to wait 16 hours to see a doctor and then another 6 hours to get my exams. I was so tired it took me a week to recuperate.

And now now I see that there is money, actually way too much money but not for us, never for us. Not for my beautiful Canadians, not for the middle class or the lower classes, but there is always money to save the multimillion companies.

Canadians are struggling to buy food because a billionaire decided to squeeze every penny from them and he smugly declared that if someone tried to do anything he would just squeeze Canadians until they are gasping for air.

There were record sales for millionaire companies but the average person can barely eat three meals.

But there is always money for those who want to kill and destroy. There is always money for terror and bloodshed of people that we don’t even know. What was their greatest sin? Be the stepping stone between the interest of those who want to be ultra rich and richer and the land, resources or power they want.

I don’t need several laptops in10 years, i don’t need a new phone every year. At this point in the fight to survive climate change we don’t even need more oil.

Scientific discoveries don’t excite me anymore. They make me fearful and make me feel dread. The “cute” robots we were dreaming about once upon a time when we were kids are only being conceived to be used for maiming and killing and to automatize death. When people presented us with AI they made it look fun and trendy like it was this new toy we would all enjoy somehow, in the end it jeopardized the entire arts field and even worse it was used to practically in front of our eyes be one of the most helpful tools to accelerate the death of thousand of innocent people.

When I read the hunger games for the first time it was just a novel and now I wonder if I am not actually living in a dystopian reality myself.

[orangetintedglasses]

Anonymous said: 😊[ Rem! ] Anonymous said: 😢 FEED US Once Upon a Dream // dream prompts

Whenever he greets her with such enthusiasm, she's always so amused. Perplexed and amused as she wraps her arms around him and asks if he's had a bad dream-- he just whimpers in response and hugs her back tight.

Today, they talk about plants. Not the Plants, but the plants all around them in the observation area; the lush green grass and the big tree... which has a very important job, apparently.

"Trees were what supplied the Earth with oxygen. They're a precious resource, and wherever we end up, we'll be sure to plant lots of them. We wouldn't want to have to rely on the Plants for that-- there's no way they'd be able to produce enough for an entire planet, it'd be too exhausting~!"

Vash nods. Trees are very important; he makes sure to remember that. But why is oxygen so important...? The Plants don't need it, do they? Rem laughs.

"Oxygen is part of every aspect of life, Vash. Our bodies need it for everything inside of us to function-- yours and mine."

Wrong. We don't need it like you do.

... that's not... what he meant to say. It doesn't even sound like his voice, either, not really. But Rem just... hums. Her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes anymore, but it's still there.

"I know you two think that you're entirely different from humans sometimes, but all of the check ups I've done on the both of you read exactly like a human child... just a little more advanced~."

Is that what you learned when you tore Tesla apart?

Rem's eyes go wide for a moment, a flash of hurt barely hidden behind them, and she turns towards him head-on. But it's not Vash that she's looking at. No, she's looking somewhere behind him, brows furrowing as her lips press into a tight, grim line.

"... Nai, what are you doing to your brother?"

Vash stares at their mother with wide, owlish eyes, glassy and unseeing; something writhes behind him, just out of sight before it disappears, and pain blossoms all over the right side of his body. The something twists, and he stands up. His mouth moves again.

So tell us, Rem. What happens when something doesn't get enough oxygen?

Their voices are layered over one another, speaking as one. Acting as one. The both of them walk forward and take the same, slow steps towards her... but it's Vash who lunges forward and gets Rem to the ground. It's Vash's hands that wrap around her throat and close her airways in a warped mockery of their lesson about trees. He feels a hand touch his back, and he knows Nai is there, watching as their surroundings shift and change, and Vash strangles the woman who took him in after the crash. It's not Rem anymore. They're not kids anymore.

Pain ebbs through him, and his hands wrap tighter around Luida's throat.

Do you know what happens when a human can't get oxygen, Vash?

--

It feels like he can't breathe when Vash jolts out of this nightmare-- sucking in a loud, ragged gasp as he sits up with a start. Something tore out of his throat at some point while he was still asleep-- a scream, a cry, something that makes his throat feel awful now, painfully swallowing and taking greedy gulps of air that burn his throat as he clutches at the front of his shirt.

Nightmare. Just a nightmare, j-just...

[ophelia-jones]

Thorns pt 4

Lacey's feet were healed, none of her wounds had taken long to heal in this environment, and she was grateful to be strong enough to start working in the community.  She provided whatever answers they wanted, but was not made privy to any plans they had to attack the Saviors compound. Not that she would even want to know. 

Today, however, she had spent in the infirmary with Denise. She had already known her body was changing, and she was not young enough or naive enough to not already know what was causing it. She was 37 years old, an age which would have been considered high risk for a pregnancy even when there were hospitals available in every town.  

Tonight she was wandering around the streets aimlessly, trying to know what to do. It was too far in really, to stop it safely. She had considered it when she had first realized what had happened, when the morning sickness started. But to be honest, she wasn't sure she could. Even though she was scared, both for herself and the child, she already felt protective of it.  So she was making her peace with the fact that this could well be the thing that ended her life.  She wiped away tears as she thought bitterly that Negan had possibly found a way to kill her after all. 

There was a commotion at the gate, and she hurried to see what was happening. Daryl had been out on a scavenging trip and had arrived home with a deer and two bags of canned goods and other non perishables. It was like manna from heaven at a time when the community had been cutting back to preserve its food stores. 

Daryl smiled at Lacey when he saw her, moving quickly to greet her. 

"Got you something." He said, reaching in to his pocket and producing a pack of MnM's. "They were under a counter out the sun and everything. Should still be decent." He tried to act like it was no big deal, but at that moment it meant more to Lacey than just about anything else anyone had ever done for her. She surprised Daryl, and herself when she stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. She had been with them for 7 weeks now and each day she became more grateful for the people here - and more afraid of losing them. Especially Daryl.  

"Alright, alright." He replied awkwardly, patting Lacey on the back at first; when she didn't let go however, he wrapped his arms around her as well. He completely enveloped her and she lingered there in his arms for every second she could get out of him.

"You ok?" He finally asked, pulling back to examine her face and seeing that her eyes were puffy. "Whats wrong?" He looked as if he hoped the problem was someone whose ass he could kick.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little emotional tonight." She said. Other than when she first came here, exhausted and hunted by a madman, he hadn't seen an emotional side to Lacey. She had a good head on her shoulders and she could work more than most of the men around here. He had discovered that her brothers had taught her a great deal about hunting and fishing and she knew how to identify useful plants and mushrooms in the are surrounding Alexandria. They had spent many afternoons together gathering ingredients for medicinal teas and wild asparagus, leeks and best of all morel mushrooms; a share of these she had fried and served to him proudly. They were something she had been foraging and eating every spring since she was young - and they were worth the effort. They were a rare decadence in this modern world.

She was tough and resourceful, and in their wanderings had shown herself to be capable of taking walkers down without any help from him at all.  He had certainly not seen the sensitive side of her. So if she didn't mind hard work or fear walkers (or saviors on the lookout still), what on earth would make her cry?

"Walk with me?" She suggested, and Daryl nodded his agreement, falling into step with her. "If you knew you were dying, what would you want to do before that? I mean, is there something that you would regret not having done, when the time came?" She asked, her hand brushing Daryl's as the walked. 

"Did something happen with the saviors while I was gone?" Daryl asked gruffly.

"No. Answer my question." She urged.

"I don't know. Maybe." He seemed to be considering it. "What's the point?"

"I have something I would regret not having done." Lacey told him, and this time when his knuckles brushed her hand, she slipped her fingers into the calloused palm of his hand and held it gently. He stiffened briefly, but then his fingers relaxed around her hand and held it.

He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything at all. When they reached Carol's house, they stopped in front of it, but he didn't let go of her hand. She smiled down at their interlocked hands and then back up at Daryl, who was shifting awkwardly, not knowing where he should be looking or what to do next. 

Lacey leaned her face up close, and then closer still but didn't quite touch his lips. He was perfectly still for several agonizing moments, but with each breath of his, she could tell he was breathing faster, deeper;  finally he worked up the courage to close the gap and let his lips meet hers.

It was not a deep, sensual kiss - he barely opened his lips - but that made it no less passionate. It was, perhaps because it was so simple, so slow, that its heat was so intense. It was intimate, lingering. 

When he drew back slightly, Lacey made a small noise of disappointment, her eyes fluttering open. Daryl was looking at their feet shyly.

"I have to tell you something." Lacey said, her voice catching in her throat. "And I'm scared to tell you, but I have to." 

He scowled down at her in concern but remained silent as ever. 

"I should have told you this before, and I'm not going to be able to hide it much longer. And the truth is, it terrifies me… Daryl, I'm pregnant. I knew before Simon threw me to the wolves." Daryl blinked in shock, unaccustomed to feeling so many emotions at once. "And I know how dangerous it is, that I may die when the time comes.  I needed to… to tell you how I felt about you. I just wanted you to know how I feel, that I adore you. I feel at home when we are together." 

More silence.

"I don't blame you, if you don't want anything to do with me I understand."

"Shut up." He told her, leaning down, one of his big hands slipping up into her hair as he kissed her again. And then again. She melted against him. If she hadn't put her arms around his neck, she might've fallen down.  Her chest was pressed to his and one of his hands slid around behind her to slide under her ass and lift her up with one arm until her feet were off the ground and he didn't have to lean over.

"About time." They heard Carol say as she breezed past them to go home.

Daryl pulled back and lowered Lacey back down to her feet. 

"I should go. I uh, just…" He was back to being shy, most distant. But he smiled at Lacey, stayed close even when they weren't quite touching anymore. "You're not going to die, it's going to be ok." 

"You can't promise that. All I want is more of you in the meantime." She told him, one hand against his chest. He breathed out heavily, and she knew he felt it all too, the need and the desire, and the tender feelings, which Lacey did not dare put a name to. He rested his forehead against hers. 

"Yeah." He said simply. But it was all he needed to say. 

[carolap53]

December 12, 2022

That Prepared Me for This BINU SAMUEL

Lee en español

“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the LORD rejoices to see the work begin, to see the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hand.” Zechariah 4:10a (NLT)

My team at work is the best! I sincerely appreciate what every one of my co-workers brings to the table. Our most recent hire came to us with no previous pharmacy experience, but he had enthusiasm and a desire to learn, so we brought him on.

Every day, he shows up on time and ready to work. He’s flexible. He’s energetic. He’s efficient. He’s bilingual. You should see the way customers’ faces light up when they hear the words “habla español?”

After one of the most head-spinning, most overwhelming and busiest workdays EVER, I had to ask him, “What’s your secret? How do you stay so calm?”

His response made me laugh and got me thinking.

“Yesterday was nothing compared to when I used to work at Burger King at my university. The lunch hour there was crazy!”

Burger King? While fast food restaurants and pharmacies are both fast-paced and high-energy workplaces, who would’ve thought that a job in a totally different industry would have prepared him for this?

God uses everything we go through to teach us and equip us. Every humbling and exhausting experience either prepares us for the next humbling and exhausting experience or prepares us for a mountaintop experience where we appreciate God’s sovereignty in a whole new way.

We see this throughout Scripture.

How was Moses prepared to lead over a million Israelites out of Egypt?

After killing an Egyptian man to defend an Israelite slave, Moses fled to the desert and worked under his father-in-law, Jethro, tending sheep. Caring for flocks of sheep prepared him to care for God's people.

Long before Moses was born, Joseph was put in charge of a prison before he was put in charge of a nation.

Later, at the end of the Israelites' Babylonian exile, Nehemiah’s role as a cupbearer to the king granted him the favor and the resources needed to pursue his passion of rebuilding Jerusalem’s wall.

Zerubbabel was also a leader after the exile. He was involved in spearheading the reconstruction of Jerusalem’s temple. There was an overwhelming amount of work to be done, and it was easy to be discouraged.

But God spoke through the prophet Zechariah: “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the LORD rejoices to see the work begin, to see the plumb line in Zerubbabel’s hand” (Zechariah 4:10a).

Friends, the work God desires to do in us has to start somewhere!

We’ve all had days and seasons of life where we have wondered, How could this be preparing me for anything?

But it always does.

God uses ALL things — clueless sheep, prison walls and even hungry college students — to equip us, prepare us and launch us into His will for our lives. Sometimes that means humble beginnings build our character for future roles God has in store; it also means knowing we never have to be “promoted” to serve God. After all, Jesus spent His time on earth as a humble carpenter and traveling minister, “for even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve” (Mark 10:45, NLT).

Even if it looks small right now, let’s be faithful where we are and submit our desires to God. I believe we will be amazed at the mighty work God can do in and through us!

Heavenly Father, thank You for never wasting a single moment of our lives. Even when times are difficult, help us to remember You will work things out for our good and for Your glory. We submit our lives into Your loving hands. Please give us the strength to live according to Your Word. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

[liz-allyn]

shudder; part 6/6 [agent mobius x reader]

Series Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.

Words: 4.4k

Chapter Warnings/Tags: smut, language, soft daddy kink, sex in otherwise unsanitary conditions, writer's horribly pathetic attempt at dirty talk

A/N: Here it is guys. I struggled with this chapter a lot, also mad respect for gn!writers. I don't think I succeeded in keeping it neutral (welcoming feedback on how I can improve) so I removed that tag.

You watched a small fire crackle in the darkness of an elevator shaft, being used as a chimney. Rain spilled down the walls, running over old steel and concrete, but at least you were no longer in it.

Once you had had the strength to move off the beach, you found a footpath scaling up the face of the cliff which led to an abandoned mining post.

The population of Olympus-V had steady decline for decades, either by migration, poverty, or famine. The planet had been practically barren for years, save for some mining operations to squeeze the last of the planet’s natural resources.

It was in one of those posts where you were now taking refuge with Mobius. You sat on the ground near the elevator shaft, your clothes still soaked, while Mobius fiddled around with building a fire. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself and tried to keep your teeth from chattering.

“You know how many centuries it took early man on Earth to figure out fire?” Mobius mused as he tended to the flames. “I mean, it’s not a competition or anything, but other civilizations had it down in like a few decades, max.”

You rolled your eyes miserably. “I got him killed, you know,” you replied, not having the energy to follow Mobius into another one of his “fun-facts-about-history” rabbit holes. You’d been quiet for a while, with Mobius having to hold both ends of the conversation. The grim tone in your voice gave him pause.

“The new guy,” you clarified, your tone flat as you spoke of your deceased partner. The last time you and Mobius had spoken, he had sang his praises. “It was only our fourth mission together and he’s dead. Because of me.”

Mobius sighed and turned away from you, “That’s one interpretation.” He dropped another piece of coal into the flame and came to a stand. “Or,” he added, “you could say he was a great analyst who made rational, competent choices and was working with the best data he had. The fact that he trusted you doesn’t make him any less responsible for the outcome.”

He idly wiped his hands on his pants, carrying on and providing no harbor for your self-pity, “I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

“No. You wouldn’t.” Your tone was icy. “Because you weren’t there.” You glared at him from across the smallish room you were huddled in, bitterness souring your voice. “You sent me away, remember?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his head slightly. “I had no other choice,” he parroted the same old response.

That wasn’t an answer that satisfied you. At all.

“Why?” you bit back with a mocking tone, coming to a quick stand. You pulled no punches. “Because the TVA told you to? Because if the Time Lords—”

“—Time Keepers—”

“—Time Fascists,” you hissed, “think that I have a crush on you, they'll zap me out of my useless existence?”

He glanced over at you, smirking with his head tilted slightly. He replied with a voice as sweet as caramel, “Are you saying you have a crush on me?”

Your shoulders dropped. “You’re insufferable.” You turned away, wishing you could find a different mine.

“Hey, considering my recent valiant and heroic efforts to rescue you,” he replied, “you’d think you’d be a little nicer to me.” You let out an exhausted sigh, but he kept going - cool as a cucumber. “I thought we had a thing going there. I mean - first, you kiss me—”

You spun on your heel. “Kiss you!?” you scoffed.

“Yeah,” he drawled. “On the beach.”

“I was resuscitating you!” you argued. “You call that a kiss?”

He shrugged innocently, a sparkle in his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything,” he responded matter-of-factly. “But, uh, yeah - it was a little underwhelming.”

He grinned slyly. You wanted to simultaneously melt into him and burn him alive. You scoffed, shaking your head incredulously.

“What was the point?” you exclaimed. “What’s the point of rescuing me if I’m nothing but a - a tool? A blunt hammer for the TVA to snuff out anyone that steps out of line?”

The pain in your voice was unmistakable, and Mobius dropped his playful banter.

“You think I’ve enjoyed spending the last - however long it's been - hopping around the timeline hunting people who are no different than me?” Your heart ached with every word, “You think I enjoy killing?”

“No,” he answered, weighed with guilt, “I don’t.”

Your rage flared. “Then why won’t you just let me go!?”

“I can’t,” he quietly explained, eyes cast down. He wouldn’t even look at you.

Fuck this infuriatingly charming, cowardly little TVA sheep-whore.

You felt the venom pooling on your tongue. “God! You’re such a company man, aren’t y—”

“I can’t!” he raised his voice in a way that you’d never heard before, stunning you into silence. He lifted his gaze and looked at you solemnly, his expression filled with regret. His words were weak, broken - barely above a whisper. “...Let you go.”

You stared blankly at him, reading the tragedy written on his features. With his defenses down, you could clearly see every word: I don’t want to let you go. I need you, forever. You are mine and I am yours and nothing else makes sense beyond that. I’d do anything to keep you safe.

Were those his thoughts, or yours? You didn’t know anymore.

Mobius reached up quickly and loosened his tie, before deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt.

You were staring like a deer in the headlights. “Wha-Wai-what are you doing?” you blurted uncomfortably with a furrowed brow.

He rolled his eyes. “Not catching hypothermia, if that’s alright with you,” he snarkily said as he pulled off his jacket and shirt, revealing a soaked white undershirt beneath. You remembered that you both were freezing and wet. “I’m drying my clothes by the fire. We still have 10 hours and 23 minutes until we hit the radiation peak.”

Ah yes, you had almost forgotten.

Ten hours until the end of the world, or at least of Olympus-V. And because Mobius’ TempPad was unbelievably conveniently out of juice, and unable to open another Time Door, you were pretty sure you had about the same amount of time left to exist.

Mobius confidently felt otherwise. He rattled on some jargon about needing a massive source of energy to power the TempPad - something about electromagnetic waves, solar bursts, radiation of a dying star, the “sweet spot” between a steady charge and a gruesome death. You honestly stopped listening back at the beach.

You were too busy questioning his motives and your own. Were you happy that Mobius was trapped with you, about to be swallowed by the sun? Or were you furious that he idiotically ran right into an apocalypse and now you both were going to die.

He quipped that at least that technically made him a hero; maybe he’d get a plaque in the TVA cafeteria. You would’ve made some kind of cheeky comeback, but you were already dying inside at that devastating thought.

“Not to be too forward, but you should probably do the same,” Mobius added, bringing you back to the present situation where he was undressing in front of you. “You’re shaking like a chihuahua right now.”

You were about to question the puzzling thought of him being in a place in time to observe a chihuahua, but then he pulled his wet t-shirt over his head. You turned your gaze away reflexively as soon as you spotted human flesh.

Here you were - former soldier, mercenary, and spy, and fearsome hunter of the Time Variance Authority - blushing like a shrinking violet. It’s not that he didn’t have a point, it was just--fuck, he’s undoing his belt— is this real life right now?

“Don’t worry,” he scoffed flippantly. “I’ll even turn my back to preserve your innocence and sanctity.”

He was being facetious but it made you wonder if he had any idea how un-sanctified you were. Your eyes widened at the thought: Did he watch that on the highlight reel too?

Now he was pulling his slacks off, and you were tracking in real time again. He kept his promise and had his back to you, allowing you the privacy to undress. And you did.

You peaked over your shoulder to see him lay his clothes out in front of the flames. He dragged over an old canvas tarp he’d found - pieces of which he’d stripped off for kindling - and moved it to a safe proximity from the fire. He sat down in the middle of the tarp, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around him.

And he kept his underwear on - boxer briefs, you’d called it - not that you were trying to look below his waist or anything.

Once he was at rest, he rubbed his hands over his bare arms to create friction. You mirrored his steps one-by-one, until you were also sitting in your underwear on the canvas with your bare backs inches apart.

You both were quiet for a long time, facing opposite directions, surrounded by the cold darkness, and the sound of trickling water. You could still hear the waves thrashing and the rain bartering on the rocks outside. The crackle of the fire - the way the flame danced and dimly lit your surroundings, brought you a sense of peace. It was almost... romantic. Even if it was the end of the world.

“I know this is my fault,” Mobius declared, breaking the silence. You could hear struggle in his voice. “I know I was supposed to stay within my lane. My purpose is to preserve and protect the timeline, and that’s it, it’s just....” He sighed, and you listened carefully, hanging on his words. Was this doubt?

It sounded like he was trying to understand himself. “Something’s different now,” he explained, with a little bit of wonder and fear. “When we’re together, I feel… like I’m someone else. And I’m not who I was before. Before you.”

You quietly listened, thinking about how much you identified with what he was saying.

“My head is telling me it’s all wrong,” he said, “that I’m making a mistake. That I’m playing with fire.” His next thoughts brought the tiniest grin to his otherwise grim voice. “When I’m with you… I feel like a dope… Reckless.” The smile faded as his thoughts sobered him. “Dangerous.”

In the silence that followed, you wondered again whose thoughts you were hearing - his or yours.

“How can something that feels so right be wrong?” he mused openly - for you, the Time Keepers, and all the Sacred Timeline - to hear.

The question that hung heavy in the air had such a clear answer, of which you were certain. Your mind raced trying to think of how to respond, how to explain. You simply couldn’t find the words.

So you turned your body towards him. You reached over Mobius’ shoulder gently to cup the side of his face, and pulled him into a kiss.

It was slow and chaste, projecting every intention and emotion that you lacked the words to describe. Each time you moved your lips, you took another breath; you wrote another line of your love letter to him. He sank deeper into your kiss, as your souls tangled and caught fire.

And then you felt it.

You were positioned behind him, with his back to your chest when a burst of lightning crawled up his spine. A desperate shudder racked his body. He pulled away from you breathlessly, his eyes closed, as you both panted and glowed with the heat of the moment.

“If I didn’t know any better,” your lips curled into a sultry smile, “I’d say I was making you nervous.”

He opened his dark bronze eyes at that, drinking you in. He couldn’t help but mirror your mischievous smirk. In an instant, he snatched you up and pulled you onto his lap. You kissed him hungrily, straddling him, as his hands glided over your body.

Your mind went foggy, as any composure you had in the situation was evaporating. His lustful kisses scorched your skin as they traveled down your neck. He lifted you higher so that he could drink more of you in. You gasped and sighed at how your body reacted to him, your fingers digging into his scalp. He groaned with pleasure as he found your open mouth again, your tongue a welcoming partner.

He pulled you in tighter, your hips grinding further into him. You felt his want, hard against your body, and you felt the last of your innocence pooling between your legs. The friction made you let out an un-sanctified moan, breaking away from his kiss. The sound of your voice intoxicated him.

You were in a controlled descent backwards as he lowered you to your back.

When did you start trembling? Has it really been that long since your last time?

Your hands danced across his chest, triggering goosebumps. Even his skin wanted you. You writhed beneath him as he positioned himself between your legs. You were bursting like a firecracker with anxious need. Your hands groped him, nails gently grazing - traveling down his torso and beneath the waistband of his boxers.

He gasped as your fingers wrapped around his organ, fluttering his eyes shut at your touch. You were on autopilot, your physical need in command of your body, as you attempted to pull his stiff erection from his boxers.

Mobius snatched your hands and you froze. He pulled your arms up, grasping your hands tightly, and pinned your wrists to the floor on either side of your head. You were hit with a wave of confusion, followed by shame.

Maybe you’d read this wrong. You looked up at him, half-expecting to read an expression of disgust.

What you found was the opposite.

His eyes— gentle, dark, and focused intently on you— telegraphed a message for you to read carefully:

You were not the one in control here.

You felt the wind of butterflies deep in your core as you realized he had clear goals for you in mind. He was asking you - imploring you - for command of your body. For the record, he already had it - whether or not either of you were conscious of it.

You lay still, save for your chest’s gentle movements, as his eyes unravelled the layers of your being. Trapped in his gaze, you were stripped bare in more than just flesh.

You were time travelling again - years into the past. The pages of your chapters fell away, until you felt like a pupil again, watching your master navigating the geography of your body.

His grip softened, giving your palms an affectionate squeeze before he released your hands. His leering gaze was already gliding down your valleys, and his hands followed, letting his fingertips brush the delicate flesh of your forearms as they travelled.

All your mind could do to focus was count your every breath as his touch and kisses grazed your skin. You wondered how long it had been for him. You quivered at the thought of him planning this moment.

He took time tasting you with each kiss - down your chest, your belly, the crest of your hips. You lifted your core with his encouragement, allowing him to pull away your last remaining piece of clothing. You were finally unveiled before him. He sighed softly, mind buzzing, as he delicately spread your legs apart.

He moved so slowly with intention, relishing each moment. You were on the verge of losing it and he had yet to touch your most sensitive areas. He could feel your hips squirm with anticipation.

“I want you,” he pacified you, “more than anything.” He tenderly kissed the inside of your thigh. “But I need to know that you want this too. Without a doubt in your mind.”

You were desperate by this point, way past “willing.” Regardless, he met your eyes, waiting patiently for your consent.

You were consumed with lust. “Please,” you stuttered in passionate exhilaration. You could barely recognize your own voice, “You can do anything you want to me.”

His face twitched into a sinful smirk. “I know.” There was that confidence again. “But that’s not what I asked.” He steadied his composure and fixed himself in your sights once again. You gazed at him with a more sobered expression, giving this moment the respect he wanted.

He watched your lips now that he had your attention. “Tell me you want me to make you feel good,” he seductively implored. “Tell me you want me to take you, here and now. I need to hear you say yes.”

The way he asked for your consent could’ve put you over the edge by itself.

“Yes,” you practically moaned under your breath. It was a sinful, thirsty plea. “God, yes, please. I want you to touch me.”

That ignited his fuse.

He lowered to his elbows, positioning his arms beneath your legs. His mouth was on you, leaving you aghast at the force. It was like he wanted more than just to please you - he relished in devouring you, like a frozen dessert on a hot summer day. You jolted and gasped, more from surprise than pain. He took note anyway, and steadied his animalistic pace.

It wasn’t long until your eyes were rolled in the back of your head. You were thunderstruck, arching your body and moaning with ecstasy.

The way his name sounded each time it sprang from your lips made him drunk. Every time you uttered it, you felt him tense and groan. It was a perpetual cycle. Your hips would reflexively buck from the intense pleasure and he would just hold on tighter. He forced your thighs apart as you encouraged him to unleash more rapture on your body.

This was not a particularly new position for you, but it was good. You weren’t sure where he got the experience, but he was really, really good.

And if “Sacred-you”— “NC-17-rated,” “parental-advisory-warning-labelled” badass-you—could just see yourself now: writhing on the floor while being laid out by an older man, one whom you’d rarely seen out of a brown suit and tie. You didn’t think this man knew how to fire a gun before, but you were practically mewling for him like a kitten.

And god, he really seemed to enjoy it.

You warned him that you couldn’t last much longer. You felt the tension building inside. You wanted desperately to satisfy him, to feel him inside of you, to have him enraptured with you. But unless he slowed down, you were going to lose it right here with his mouth on you. You knew he had needs, and you began to plead with him to let you fulfill them.

You pushed down on his shoulders, begging him to let you have a turn. He pulled away, pausing only briefly.

“Uh uh,” he chastised you with a wicked grin. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

He was back on you before you could reply, this time reaching two of his fingers into your core.

Your head dropped backwards at the sensation, and now you were obscenely begging him for more. You’d happily given up any attempt at controlling what happened next, focusing solely on the nuclear fission in your body.

You blossomed for him as his fingertips pulsed on the most sensitive flesh inside inside you. Muscles you didn’t even remember you had repeatedly contracted. He impurely hummed and he lapped greedily at the fruit of his labor.

You were gasping for air, beaded with sweat, as you came down from your high. He leaned over you to witness the sunset of your orgasm. Eyes full of lust, he pulled himself free of his boxers and discarded them as he watched you.

When you glanced down to see the stunning sight of his stimulation, it re-electrified you. You pulled yourself into a sitting position on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your legs straddled him eagerly as he lifted your hips over his member.

The erotic sound you both made as you slid down his shaft was sinful enough to cast you both into hell. You kissed him, open-mouthed, and tasted yourself on his tongue. Now that you were on top of him, wrapped around him, he seemed more frantic and less calculated with his movement.

He was gazing up at you like a lustful teenage boy, letting himself be taken by passion. “God...” he whispered, suddenly less skilled with words. “You feel so... ah!... s-so beautiful...”

“You’re so hard…stretching me so tight,” you groaned into his mouth, and he growled in agreement, nodding his head.

He broke away from the kiss, “God - yes, ah, you’re s-so tight, baby...” You grinned excitedly as you climbed and descended his length. You moaned like a porn star as you rode him.

“I can call you that, can’t I?” he said through his own breathless moans. You glanced at him in confusion. He looked concerned. His hands braced your hips as you continued your movement. “Is that okay?”

“Wha-what?”

“The pet name,“ he explained through sighs, “B-Baby? I-I don’t want it to sound de-demeaning, or... patronizing—”

Okay. Now he was overthinking it.

“It’s fine,” you urged him to move on, growing more frustrated, but now he was babbling nervously.

“I could call you something else—”

“—don’t care—”

“—’s’important to me that you know I respect you, and I’d never—”

“I don’t care, I—You can call me whatever you want. Please, daddy… Just— fuck me…”

You crashed your lips on his, but felt his breath hitch as he tensed you immediately. You either said something very right, or very wrong. The sex had all but come to a screeching halt, as you reluctantly met his eyes.

He gazed at you thoughtfully, gears turning.

Timidly, you searched his face for judgment, for any sign of disapproval, but instead, there was a look of almost— awe.

You watched the change in him as the devil overtook him. His eyes turned three shades darker, pooling with lust. His expression of wonder melted into a devious smile. Your dirty talk awakened something in him, like he was remembering a long-forgotten visceral part of himself.

He scooped you up and laid you on your back again, pulling himself out of your body. You only had a brief time to revolt, until he sat up on his knees and he lifted one of your thighs up, pulling your leg over his shoulder. You watched curiously trying to figure out what he was doing, until he gripped your hips and pulled you downward— over his shaft.

You let out a painfully delicious cry as he bottomed out inside of you. He hungrily watched your expressions and relished in the sound of your moans.

His hand braced the inside of your other thigh, holding your legs open so that you were spread at the right angle for him. As soon as he began to thrust, you were done for.

You groaned with ecstasy. “That’s... it..,” he praised you, eliciting more cries from you.

There were no more performances. There was no more pageantry. No more room for pretending to be anyone other than who you are.

You were coming undone for him, and he watched every moment. Every dirty thought and fantasy you ever had might as well have been written on your body. He studied each line.

“Oh god, Mobius—yes,” you babbled as you squirmed.

“Yeah?” he breathed, teasingly. “Does that feel good?” You nodded frantically.

Sweat beaded down his chest as his hands roamed to find your sweet spot, and another desperate wave of ‘yes’s flooded out from your lips.

“What did you call me?” he enticed, his mouth watering for your response. “What name did you call me before?” You were struggling with words, but he wouldn’t stop until he coaxed the right one from you.

“Say it.”

You tangled your fingers in your scalp, turning your head away. He thrust into your hips a little deeper, and you cried out obscenely.

“Say it,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “I wanna hear you say it again. I wanna watch you say it to me.”

More lewd noises dropped out of your mouth, as you propped yourself up on your elbows. “Yes, please, I love what’re… doing t’ me… I need it, daddy…”

He groaned with a lecherous smile, biting his lip. “You are so good for me.”

Lust was dripping from each word as he drew them out. His honeyed, Southern accent had returned. His eyes were blown black as he cooed with praise, “You make me wanna be so bad.”

You were gone after that. Your head tilted back, crying out through another climax. He could hear his own voice—that’s it that’s it—moaning in the distance somewhere, but he was enthralled with your little pleas. The tones of your voice washed over him; he used them to quell the blaze inside.

He knew everything he wanted to do to you, and everything you wanted him to do. And he couldn’t get past the feeling, as he buried himself deeper inside of you, that this was all... familiar.

This picture of you, spread out gloriously beneath him, was impossibly familiar. He imagined a bed that wasn’t his own, and light blue cotton sheets that couldn’t have been his, and the sunlight peeking from a sheer curtain, and falling across the ecstasy-filled face of his lover that he couldn’t have ever married...

That was....you.

Your voice was echoing in Mobius’ head. You whined and whimpered, glowing with passion, signaling that you were moments away from your climax. And then he was here - on Olympus-V with you, and he felt you tighten and flutter around him.

The sight of you, writhing beneath him as you reached orgasm, pulled a deep moan from his chest. White hot light flooded his vision. His body jerked and reacted in unison, filling you with his seed.

For someone for whom time had little meaning, he was now obsessed - trying to catch and hold back each fleeting moment. He leaned forward, his body spent, and you pulled his chin down into a longing kiss.

His mind was spinning. His lungs were still taking deep breaths. He pulled away slowly and rested his forehead on yours, his eyes closed as he struggled to make sense of what was real and what was a dream.

“I could never let you go,” he declared, deep in contemplation. You didn’t quite understand the connection in the present moment. You didn’t remember.

“Then stay with me,” was your gentle reply.

He gazed once again into your eyes with a knowing smile. “Always.”

A/N: And I'm leaving it there. For now. Please reblog with feedback, or send me a message on your thoughts. This is my first attempt at writing in a long, long time. Also it's my first attempt at smut so be nice with your feedback :-)

THANK YOU to all of you for your wonderful comments. Please reblog for support!

@generalhugzzz @isaxbella749 @yodaboo @aloyssia @simsiddy @coloursforyourportrait

[mio-parasite]

❤️ Monsters in Latin America ❤️

Hello very good dear community of monsters lovers how are you? I hope you do well and if not I hope that your day will improve so that everything goes well.

I want to introduce you to some (not all as there are too many) lovely monsters of Latin America, I want to spread a little about my own culture and expand the repertoire of monsters to love, care for... Etc, I hope you like this bit Latin American story any questions you have about these creatures can contact me.

And I want to apologize if my English is very bad

Well without further ado, I introduce you to these lovely monsters from Latin America.

El Athrathrao o Basilisco

It is born in a henhouse, from a small round egg of coarse and rough cascara, of grayish white color, called lloilloy egg or lloe egg, which according to legend is believed to be laid and incubated by a rooster. If this egg is not removed, within a few weeks it will become a basilisco.

In the daytime, the basilisk chilote hides under the house of the owner of the henhouse, and at night he would come out of his hiding place while all the people sleep. At that time he would emit a hypnotic chant similar to cockcrow, which would cause people to stay asleep. After singing, he would go into the rooms to be able to feed himself, absorbing the breath and sucking the saliva of those who sleep. The affected person would lose the desire to eat, so he or she would get thinner and thinner, and his or her face would become pale. With the passage of time, a strong and persistent cough would appear and his breathing becomes more and more difficult, and finally he dies. The same thing happens with every one of the inhabitants of the house.

La Pincoya

She is a mermaid of extraordinary beauty (with a slightly tanned white complexion and blond hair), whose job is to protect the sea, sow it and rescue the castaways.

When the pincoya dances facing the ocean, it is warning that there will be an abundance of fish and shellfish. And when you do it looking toward the coast, there will be shortages.

To be favored by it, one must be content; That is why the fishermen are accompanied by happy friends.

It is also said that if you fish or shellfish a lot in one place, the pincoya gets angry and leaves that area, which then becomes sterile. The pincoya is sometimes accompanied by her husband, the pincoya.

The mermaid lived in a huge cave and used to swim in the lagoon and the puchanquin river. From the rocks, with a whistle, he made emerge from the bottom of the waters a solid trunk of gold, which he climbed to comb his golden hair. Sometimes, during the night, he would sing haunted love songs, which no one could resist.

In addition, many people sought the woman for favors, until she disappeared from the place. It is believed that it was called cuada from the huelde lagoon to bring prosperity and abundance to distant beaches.

Since then, the waters took on the dark color they have today, and although many have tried to imitate the siren's whistle, the golden trunk is still submerged waiting for its owner.

El Muqui / Muki

The muki, or anchancho, is a goblin in the mythology of the central andes in Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, and Colombia; Which is characterized by being a miner and, as such, its existence is limited to the underground space: the muqui lives inside the mine.

Its name comes from the quechua "murik" (" he who asphyxiates "). However, 'muki' also means' humidity ', so it is said to also appear in places where there is water. From puno to cajamarca, passing through pasco and Arequipa, the descriptions of this creature are always the same: it is of small stature, does not exceed half a meter. Their favorite victims are unbaptized children, whom they hide in FIG and banana trees to make one of them.

Piuchén

Piwicheñ is a Mapuche voice that means "to dry people", this mythological creature is better known as Pihuchén, Piuchén or Piguchen.

It generally has the appearance of a flying snake, emitting high-pitched whistles. But also its changing appearance has something of a human, snake, bird, fish, quadruped, frog and bat. It is usually covered with grass, bushes and twisted cylinders, like hooked horns. It produces a substance so irritating that when it is transmitted through the air or water, it causes skin eruptions very similar to scabies.

It has incredible longevity, its wings grow when it has reached its mature age, in old age it transforms into a bird the size of a rooster or a young turkey, equally bloodthirsty. It has such a powerful force that it can topple large trees and raise gigantic waves that wreck ships.

He is used to living in lakes and rivers, where his presence causes panic, those who have the misfortune to contemplate him will soon die. At other times, he petrifies his victims with his intense gaze, and then sucks their blood.

Trentren Vilu y Caicai Vilu

Trentren vilu (terrestrial snake) and caicai vilu (sea snake) are two colossal and powerful snakes that have the ability to cause earthquakes and volcanic eruptions (trentren) and tsunamis and floods (caicai).

Legend has it that one day caicai awoke from his sleep and, seeing how ungrateful men were to the sea that gave them so much resources, unleashed his fury and used his tail to cause tsunamis and flood the earth as punishment. Trentrain, however, came to the aid of the terrestrial creatures and saved those he could on his back to put in the hills, those he could not save he turned into birds, fish and Marine mammals and drowned in sumpall. Caicai, for his part, did not stop and raised the waters even higher, to which he responded by raising the hills even higher.

Seeing this challenge, caicai attacked trentrum, thus beginning a Titanic battle that lasted for a long time until they finally ran out of strength.

By the end of the battle, the geography had changed, resulting in the numerous islands and canals of southern Chile.

Exhausted and defeated, caicai returned to sleep, leaving millalobo as ruler of the seas. For his part, trentrum also went to sleep.

However, with the passage of time, the men became ungrateful again, also causing the displeasure of trentin, who from time to time moves in his sleep causing earthquakes and eruptions, while caicai by moving his tail causes tsunamis.

Yaguareté-Abá

Tiger man or leopard-man, this being is a character known in northeastern Argentina and the great chaco, this arises from the great adoration of a sorcerer towards these animals and is based on the metamorphosis from human to beast, or the reverse.

The transformation of the sorcerer begins with the use of a jaguar leather and a sauma with hen's feathers. And that because of these they were given the power to shed their skins and transform into a creature half jaguar and half human. Later, they go hunting and after eating their prey they return to their human form performing the same procedure.

He is extremely aggressive and only eats human flesh, from mule or cow, he liked to loot ranches and he liked to force young women to clean it. The only way to escape from his escape is to manage to remove his hide and spit in his face because they are blind and vulnerable to attack, after death they return to their human form. This must be accompanied by bullets or machetes that are blessed but this is not all - you must behead him after killing him to make sure he does not come back to life.

La Fiura

She has the appearance of a disgusting woman, with large breasts and tiny stature (40 to 50 cm) and long black hair. Her face has hideous features, with sparkling eyes that are almost hidden behind her huge nose. Her limbs are thin and hooked, and she has the ability to lengthen and twist them in all directions by nervously moving the misshapen fingers of her huge hands. She wears red clothes, and uses to adopt strange postures and hideous grimaces with her face.

It is said that he wanders in the woods and sneaks through the bushes, in search of the fruit of the thorny chauras, which he eats gluttonously; and people can tell that the Fiura has passed through a place by observing the depositions it leaves on the protruding roots of large trees. It is also said that taking great care, it can be observed when she carefully combs her hair with a highly polished crystal or silver comb that shines in the sun's rays, while bathing in small lakes. After bathing, she sits on the moss, and remains naked for hours or goes to dance on the scraps. It is characterized by possessing superhuman strength and by the ability to make use of the stench of its breath to twist or break the limbs of animals or people who observe it; her power being such that she can have her effects at a distance.

Millalobo

The millalobo (golden Wolf) is a creature resembling a newt, with the upper part of a man and the lower part of a sea Wolf. The millalobo was born from the union between a woman and a sea Wolf which saved her from drowning during the mythical battle between trentrain vilu and caicai vilu.

Millalobo is the most powerful being of the seas after caicai, who chose him to rule the seas on his behalf.

According to chilota legend it is said that upon seeing him, caicai decided that he was a creature of his liking and chose him to delegate his power and rest after his battle with trentrain.

Millalobo lives on the seabed and rules with his family, his wife huenchula and their three children; The pincoya, the pincoy, and the mermaid chilota. Various mythological sea creatures are under his command and help him in his tasks, which range from planting and caring for the development of shellfish and fish, to managing the Marine climate; In addition to guiding and caring for the dead produced by the sea.

Millalobo is said to be the creator of the caleuche and the evil creatures of the seas also pay him respect.