#(granted I was 16 so I was defensive about everything)

[talaok]

I’ve dreamed of this (Part I)

Summary: You are a part of the BAU, and for the longest time you and Dr. Spencer Reid had been best of friends, even when it was clear to everyone else, and at times to you, that you should be more than that, and when something almost happens on a night out with the team, everything is destined to change. This is a double pov story (each chapter will be alternated between y/n's and spencer's pov)

Chapter summary: After solving a case the team goes to a bar to blow off some steam, and inevitably, the tension between you and Spencer grows.

warnings: alcohol consumption

Y/n 

Knock knock. You looked up from the pictures of the 16-year-old victim found in the woods two days ago. You had caught her killer today, and as you filed the case in the solved pile, you had felt it was your duty, or at least the respectful thing to do, to give her one last goodbye before you inevitably had to move on. You hated this part of your job. You hated the need to not get attached. You knew it was right, that if you did start caring too much you wouldn't have been able to do your job anymore.  That if you started to think of the bodies in front of you as sons or daughters, as loved and cared for, you wouldn't have been able to help them anymore. And so you didn't. You looked at everything objectively, only focusing on the technical aspects of it all, but for every case, Once you solved it or once, unfortunately, you had to give up on it, you granted yourself 10 minutes. 10 minutes of humanity and mourning in front of the tragedy you had just spent weeks treating with detachment. And it seemed that today, your ten minutes had been interrupted. "Y/n you coming?" Derek was smiling at you. "Huh?" "We're going to get a drink"  "Oh" you laughed softly "yeah, sure. Just give me a minute" "ok, great" he turned away just to turn back around "I'm sorry if I interrupted your little ritual," he apologized with a genuinely worried expression. You shook your head, of course, he knew about it. You always somehow forgot you were surrounded by people whose job was literally reading others "it's fine. Don't worry" you reassured him as he walked away from your desk, this time actually.

"c'mon pretty boy" You had packed your bag, exited your cubicle, and walked to the glass doors to meet the others to find Morgan talking to a very unsure Spencer. "yeah come on pretty boy" you joked as you elbowed the poor man. Derek grinned "He says he's too tired" he nodded at him. Spencer threw his head back in exasperation, his adam's apple in full view as he stretched his long neck, his honey hair falling back with it. "Oh.Not a chance" you turned to him  "I really am" he mumbled "Spence you need to relax" "I can relax at home"  "come on it'll be fun" you raised your eyebrows "we can dance " his lips twitched into a sly smile "and have a drink with alcohol in it this time" you placed your hand on his arm and noticed how he gulped "and you can tell me all about whatever statistic there is about how dirty bars are and I promise I'll listen"  His eyes fell to the floor and then back up to you. You could see on his face he had already surrendered "You know I don't dance" "We'll see" you smiled maliciously as his eyes traveled down to your lips. He cleared his throat “I just- I have to get a thing from my desk” “Alright just don't try to sneak out of here Spence”  “I wouldn’t dare” he laughed, turning around. You let your eyes linger on his frame a little longer before turning to Derek. He chuckled “What?” He put his hands in front of him in defense, still smiling smugly “nothing. It’s just interesting how he never seems to say no to you” “Well, what can I say? I have my charm” you joked He winced “yeah I’m not sure it’s just that” “Oh stop it” you rolled your eyes at his assumption. It wasn’t the first time he suggested it. “I'm just saying.” He shrugged “ you don’t see dr. Spencer Reid stutter every day” "When will you stop with this theory of yours?" "When you'll admit I'm right" You scoffed "yeah right" He raised an eyebrow knowingly and you scowled at him as Spencer approached. "I didn't sneak out"  "I see that, you're a man of your word " you smiled, sensing Morgan's lips twitch into a cocky grin. "we should go" he said "The others are already there"

"well hello" you said as a series of all kinds of greetings met your ears, variating from hotch's polite - hello - to Penelope's - hello my most precious -. You sat down next to Emily and after a moment of hesitation, spencer set next to you. Now, you weren't stupid, hell, studying people's behavior was your job, so yes, you had been lying to Derek before. You weren't certain about it, but you had a suspicion that what he enjoyed suggesting so much was actually the truth. You had noticed it a long time ago. You had joined the bureau about a year after he had, and even if you weren't that experienced of a profiler you could see how he acted differently when he was with you. He was always awkward, I mean, it's spencer Reid we're talking about, but when he was with you he was even more. he had trouble looking you in the eyes, would freeze after even the slightest touch, and was very hesitant to talk to you, and when he did, he would often find himself stuttering or blushing or saying - sorry- with that little sweet voice of his a lot.  But you didn't let go. you knew that under all that shyness and awkwardness there would be someone extremely interesting. and you were right. As time went by he got better, he started speaking to you voluntarily, engaging in long conversations, filled with dorky jokes and boring data, conversations that you started to adore and that, time after time, made you two learn more about each other than you could have ever imagined. But after all this time, after 4 whole years, you would notice how he sometimes would still when you touched him, or how when you wore a little more revealing clothes it was hard to have him look you in the eyes,or millions of others small things that made you question what you actually meant to him. But there were two fundamental problems, and as much as you wanted to explore that thought that sometimes crept into your mind, these always seemed to be there to remind you not to. The first one being the fact that you were and are, co-workers, as in workers that work together, as in workers that basically live in their office and that travel constantly together, and that have done 2 days of holidays collectively this year. And let's not forget, coworkers as in workers who cannot have relationships with one another due to the very strict policy their boss has everyone follow.  So that was one And the second, which, even if it should have probably been the opposite, was the one that scared you the most, was that most importantly, you were friends. Best of them for that matter. You had known each other for four full years, and in those years you had both gone through so much and had been each other's lifeline for so long that you felt like if you ruined everything, if, let's say you actually did something about what he felt, or most importantly, what you felt, and things didn't work out or it turned out you had read everything wrong, well then, you wouldn't know how to do it anymore. How to do it without him by your side. And so you stopped yourself. Every time you started even thinking about the possibility of doing something about all the beats your heart would skip when he complimented you, you thought of the worst possible outcome and forced yourself to bottle everything up. You didn't want to lose him. You just couldn't. "So what are we drinking?" JJ said "How 'bout some shots?" Emily immediately intervened as hotch scowled at her. "We have work tomorrow" "And we had work today" she raised an eyebrow and he nodded slightly, as he always did when he was unenthusiastically approving of something. Emily smiled as little shouts of excitement left JJ's and Penelope's throats. You leaned closer to spencer and whispered "this is not gonna end well", earning a little laugh from him. The same sound that every time made you feel all warm and squishy inside. Like you didn't know what to do with your hands anymore. "well whatever happens I'm here" he bent down to murmur against your ear, his breath tickling you softly "I'll protect you from drunk Emily". You snorted "Then thank god for you dr. Reid" you placed your hand on his chest as you looked up at him through your lashes. You could see his cheeks turning a pinker shade.  Fuck, how you wish you could just give in. "y-yeah" he laughed nervously "a real life-saver". "absolutely" you smiled, taking your hand off of him, and, as you suspected, rendering him able to breathe again.

"you want another drink?" Emily asked you over the music. It had been an hour and you were now scattered all across the bar. Morgan with some girl on the dance floor, where JJ and Penelope were visibly sweating their ass off to the beat of the music, Rossi, Hotch, and Reid still at the table, probably discussing something to do with work, and you and Emily at the bar, taking a break from the dancing. You took a deep breath as you caught your breath "no thanks" you said, "I have to go get something I was promised". Prentiss frowned as You strutted to the table the boys were at. You didn't even let them time to express their confusion before you spoke. "You owe me a dance" you reached your hand out to Spencer "I don't dance y/n" You didn't say anything, just pressured him to take your hand. "and I never said I was going to" he raised an eyebrow "please" you pouted. "Y/n..." his voice was strained as he tilted his head to the side. You liked this visual, him beneath you, all his pretty features completely visible, his hazel eyes perfectly accessible, just like his slightly parted rosey mouth. "Spence..." you mimicked his tone, still pouting. "I'll show you. I promise" you smiled reassuringly. He looked to his colleagues and was met only with encouraging looks. It was public want for him to loosen up a bit, for his own good. "ok but no making fun of me" he said as he took your small hand into his big and powerful one. "you know I will" you bit down a smile as you started walking to the dance floor. There weren’t many people dancing but you still decided to stop at the side of the dance floor, knowing as Spencer didn’t like to feel squished between many people. You glanced to your right, where the mass was, all sweaty and close to each other. There was what was clearly a couple slow dancing right next to you, disregarding the upbeat rhythm of the music, and close to them, two girls were jumping up and down, screaming the music’s lyrics into each other’s ears. You smiled at the picture as you turned to Spencer again. He was nervous. You could see the slightly panicked look in his eyes, the twitch in his mouth as you took his other hand in yours and started swaying to the rhythm, moving his arms with yours. His body was still immobile like a piece of wood, not giving any signs of knowing in the slight what dancing meant. His eyes were fixated on your face, intimidating you a bit. “You’re gonna have to move at one point Spence” you smiled He did the same as he looked at his feet ” I have no idea how to” he said, sounding completely hopeless. So dramatic. “Just listen to the music” you looked for his eyes “It’s easy trust me” “ it’s easy for you” he raised his eyebrows “ it should be even easier for you Mr. IQ of 187” you grinned. His lips twitched into a shy smile “ that doesn’t really help with stuff like this” “So you’re saying I just found something I’m smarter than the wonder boy at? What a confidence boost” you smirked He shook his head “You are smarter than me at many things y/n” Now it was your turn to blush. You laughed softly “I appreciate you lying to me, but we both know that’s not true Spence” you kept moving to the rhythm “But it is” he said honestly “ we wouldn’t know how to do it without you” he glanced behind you ” without your ability to get the suspects to tell you everything” his feet started to mindlessly move with the music “ not to mention all those times you figure a case out in 5 minutes” his hips began to sway slightly. It seemed the only way to get Spencer Reid to dance was to make him forget he was doing it. You smiled as you got closer to him“you’re flattering me, Doctor”  He chuckled “w-well you-you deserve it” “Why thank you” you giggled, and without giving yourself time to think about why you shouldn’t, you untangled your hands from his and brought them up behind his neck. Intertwining them right where his hair started. His arms were frozen by his side and for a moment you regretted what you had just done, he seemed uncomfortable. “I’m sorry is this ok?”  His cheeks were bright red “n-no, I mean yes I-I like it” he stuttered, making you laugh softly. You breathed a sigh of relief before you started moving again, inevitably dragging him with you. “You can touch me too you know?” You eyed his hands and he gulped “o-ok”. He slowly raised them and uncertaintly placed them on your waist. You could feel he wasn’t really holding you, just skimming you shily, but nonetheless a shiver traveled down your spine. You smiled. You liked this feeling, being so close to him you could smell the scent of his clean clothes and his natural fragrance, something you had no idea how to describe.  You continued moving with the music, which had now changed to a slower-paced song, as spencer did the same, slowly loosening up. “You’re getting good at it” “You don’t have to lie” “I’m not” He raised an eyebrow and you smiled guiltily ” maybe just a little bit” “Thought so” You swayed even closer to him while dancing, slowly moving in sync with him. Your eyes left his to glance quickly at the room around you. The purple and white lights flooded the space as everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts or too busy tasting someone else’s mouth. As your eyes toured around the room, Derek caught your eye. He was dancing with a pretty blonde girl, that is, if we can call that dancing, there was a little too much grinding for it to be fitting to your definition. He felt your eyes on him and raised his head from its place on the girl’s shoulder. You already knew what his reaction was gonna be, and you were proven right immediately as the sides of his lips turned up in a much too smug grin, his eyes communicating very clearly - I know I’m right, and so do you- You rolled your eyes in response and he just laughed. “What’s wrong?” Spence said worriedly You shook your head “ nothing, don’t worry” you smiled reassuringly getting closer to him, just to spite morgan, and maybe, just maybe also because you really really wanted to. He stilled momentarily again and you couldn’t help but play with some of the hair a the base of his neck, hoping it was as soothing for him as it was for you. It seemed to work as he started dancing again. The music changed to a more rhythmic tune again, but you didn't feel like dancing to it, you needed fresh air. "You wanna go out a sec?" "Sure" 

You knew going out with only him was only gonna make Derek, just like Emily, who had also suggested your mutual interest in each other before, believe more in their theory, but you didn't care, it's not as if anything was gonna happen. And even if it did, they would never know. Not that it was going to, obviously. "so" you started, leaning on the cold brick wall of the bar, Spencer was in front of you "are you having fun?" A car passed by on the dark road. The only sound besides the low thumps of the music coming from inside. " yes, I really am actually" he smiled " you seem surprised" you noticed He looked at his feet and then at you again "Well, you know, it's just bars aren't really my thing" "right" you nodded "but I like being with you" he said faintly "with-with all of you, I mean" You bit down a grin "I like being with you too" "W-well that's great" "yep" you said "otherwise who can I make fun of for his dancing?" you giggled, making him laugh sarcastically. "you said I wasn't bad" "I did say that" you tilted your head to the side "but you still have a couple of things to learn" "Well, I blame the teacher" You gasped as you punched his shoulder playfully "unbelievable" "I'm kidding" he smiled "you're actually a great teacher" "damn right I am"  He wet his lips as he looked around. "It's nice when no one's here" "yes it is" you agreed, taking in the lightly lit sidewalk, leading up to the park you walked by every day. It's weird how light can make such a difference to your surroundings, able to make a dark street feel unsafe at night, and the spot in front of a bar safe and comforting. maybe it wasn't the light, you thought, maybe it was the company. "What were you talking about with Hotch and Rossi?"  He turned towards the sound of your voice "Oh you know," he winced, regretting what he was about to say "scotch" Your mouth opened in an amused surprise "You?" he sighed "yes me y/n. I know some stuff about alcohol" "but you don't even drink it"  "Yeah, but I read about it" he shrugged "wow" you smiled "You're full of surprises doctor Reid" "thanks?" he said more as a question "It's a compliment" you stepped closer to him, putting your hand on his arm "It's what makes you so interesting" You scrunched your nose "that and the whole genius thing" He laughed softly "well I'm glad" he said "and just so you know, y-you're also very interesting" "oh I know" you spoke "I've been told before, not always as a compliment though"  "I'm sorry" "It's fine. At least I know someone like me now" He smiled, his eyes focusing somewhere on your cheek. "You-You have an eyelash there" "o-oh, where?" He hesitated a moment before bringing his hand to your face and gently picking it off "there" "thanks" you murmured "make a wish" "huh?" you frowned "for the eyelash" "O-oh right"  You hadn't realized until now how close you had gotten. His face was just a few inches from yours and you could feel the warmth of his body so close to yours, not to mention the feeling of his fingers on your face still lingering on your cheek. You closed your eyes, expressing the wish. "Done?" he asked, once you opened them again. He hadn't moved away, much to your relief. "all done" "Then you can blow it away" he said, moving his finger to your mouth, the eyelash still there. You did, blowing gently on his digit, as your eyes were fixated on his, which on the other side, couldn't help but fall to your lips. His adam's apple shifted as he swallowed nervously. He was so beautiful, his brown eyes wide through his long lashes, the strands of his hair on his forehead, and his mouth so damningly inviting. He was even more handsome this up close. You weren't in control anymore as you automatically leaned closer, while he did the same. You could almost feel his lips on yours, those pinkish, tortured beautiful lips were about to meet yours when the bar door opened. You both took a step back. fuck. "Oh hey guys Rossi is offering another round!" Emily's voice felt distant in your ears, as if those few feet separating you were actually miles. You looked at Spencer. His eyes were fixated somewhere behind you, panic clear in them, and then turned to Emily, forcing a smile.  "great, we'll be right in" you said unconvincingly. "All right, just don't wait too long before he changes his mind" she joked before going back in. The street looked darker now, lonelier. "Spence" you tried reaching for him before stopping yourself, remembering where that led to just moments ago. "Spence we're drunk- It was just-" "I have to go" he interrupted your blabbering "but-" "I'm sorry I-" he glanced at you, and your heart sunk in your chest at the look in his eyes, the same ones that were so full before, now seemingly so empty. "I have to go" he said, before turning and walking away, leaving you alone, in the dark night, without a light to hold on to. You had really fucked up, you thought as you stood there sole, mouth still open as the unsaid words you hadn't spoken died on your tongue. Fuck. You looked at your watch. In only ten minutes, you had managed to fuck everything up. Just perfect.

next chapter

#spencer reid #spencer reid fancfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #smut #fluff #angst #fanfiction #dr spencer reid #emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #penelope gracia #dave rossi

[vonev]

The Strings Of Webs (and the ones you’ve woven)

Miguel O’Hara x reader

Chapter 2: Finding Meaning In A Meaningless World

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, angst, hurt/comfort.

Summary:  Oops, seems like you've been captured; what could you do now?

Part I Part II

White space.

Your eyes cracked open and it was all white everywhere; the floor, the walls (if there are even any), and the blank slate of the ceiling staring down at you, almost as though it pitied you.

For your whole life, you thought you cracked the code and found salvation in the life you led. You weren’t a stand-out, not at all, but you were content with that path you had carve for yourself—to live out a life full of no regrets, which is why you had dabble in so many things; impulsively signing up for a barista and a tutor job at the age of 16, graduating high school with flying colors and pursuing your degree in engineering with the goal of one day achieving a PhD in genetic engineering and bringing a positive change to the research. 

Oh, and indulging in strange hobbies like people watching—it was how you learnt the behavioral patterns and responses of people and how you grew to be incredibly adaptable to your surroundings wherever you are. Came in handy when you had to deal with all types of customers during your line of work, too.

Miguel had been the first one to burst that bubble, reminding you that while you thought you had it all figured out; you really didn’t.

For one, he was the only individual you weren’t able to crack on the get-go. His stoic nature as though he had built himself a wall of defense over the years, and you hadn’t known that the walls bite, too. 

You tried to understand him, really, you did. Which is why you had the naïve approach when he had been the one to intrude your home, giving him the benefit of the doubt as you watched him take your life away from you—and you couldn’t do anything about it.

You weren’t sure whether to resent him or simply let it all go, after all, what more could you have done?

Your memories played back in front of you like you were merely the audience who had been granted the pleasure of looking back at your own life in a lengthy cassette tape, inserted into the old-fashioned player on a casual Sunday afternoon—the screen showing moving cards that allowed you to see into your slice of life.

Some of the memories stuck you like a knife to your core; painful and unwavering, but others found themselves warming that void of your heart you had desperately begged to be filled with something, anything of worth.

The times when you had been a rebellious teenager, running around the back of the city where everything was nothing, with a gang of friends you made as you all grabbed the bags of cannons and ran from the cops when you guys were spotted vandalizing public properties with your vibrant graffiti across the already abused walls from long-term use. 

It had been fun times, but like all things—it eventually had to end. 

You soon found yourself in a different card, showing your disheveled appearance as you hunched over your desk, your thick glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose as you moved your fingers to fix the spot of your dress where the fabric had torn earlier when you ran into some thugs. Foot on the sewing machine and fingers gently pushing the fabric to be sewn as the sound of ‘whirring’ hit your ears, followed by a loud yelp as you had managed to prick yourself on the finger. 

You hadn’t touched sewing machines since. 

More memories came by and left like the people in your life—none of them truly stayed, and you hadn’t managed to grasp a single memory that was truly dear to you.

You broke down. 

It hurt.

To have the last moments of your life grieving over what you lost and have not found, the life you led that you thought would’ve been enough—it was never enough. You never made enough friends, families never stayed, and money was always a concern. 

To simply put, you were akin to a bubble that had been stuffed with air to no end, waiting for the day, the right moment to finally burst open and confront the reality that you were in.

You never thought you would be confronted with how miserable your life truly was until your death—but it was all too soon yet too late. The things you promised yourself you would finish by tomorrow, the projects you’ve abandoned over the years collecting dust bunnies in your drawers and files, the people who you told you would meet again yet never did because you were a coward. 

You had the idea that you had found the cheat code to life living by yourself, doing everything by yourself—who would’ve thought it would end up pushing the people you cared the most about away, to never be seen again?

Your sobs could be heard from a mile away, sounding like a child who had experienced their first fall from their bike onto the hard, concrete ground that scraped their skin. Your heart was broken, you were broken. But you chose to swallow up in denial rather than reach out and fix the issues that plagued your mind, the people you wanted to see again, the views you would beg on your knees to be able to watch just one last time—

It had all been fruitless; your efforts. 

At the end of the day, you had been the sole reason for your downfall, who else could you have blamed?

From behind you was a bright flash of white, you brushed away your tears as you turned around and saw the opening of a door with blinding lights coming from it. 

This was it. 

You hadn’t even been content in bidding goodbyes to anyone—to yourself. You still had so much more self-reflection to do, so much more forgiveness you had to grant yourself, and so much potential—yet it all amounted to nothing. You picked yourself up and started stalking to the door, ready to embrace your fate like a mother would a child. 

And as you got closer, the lights engulfed your whole being, your soul, reeling you in with a promise that you could maybe start anew. 

But you knew better. 

And so with a deep breath, you dragged your feet and stepped into the door, feeling yourself slip and fall through what you thought would have been the floor—your screams and cries were left to deaf ears.

You woke up in a pool of sweat— your sweat. 

Your eyes shot open and jumped up from where you laid, your heart beating at what felt like more than 40 miles per hour, trying to soothe the raging headache you could feel blooming in your head. 

You were overwhelmed.

All the emotions came rushing in like tides, drowning you in feelings you hadn’t been ready to touch on, to learn, to feel. You felt around your body with your hands—solid, like you’ve never left. 

Were you relieved? You had no idea.

But you were alive.

The throbbing ache on your neck cried, and you put your shaky hand on it, feeling the slight dent of where the fangs had punctured.

Him.

And now, you had finally recalled the events of what happened to you, how Miguel chased you down with ferocity you’ve never seen before—those eyes of his that still plague your mind till this exact moment, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered at the moment; albeit you could just be completely delusional. 

Suddenly, you felt your intestines twist within themselves, your body contorted into a sheer amount of pain that had you screaming for your life in the small, confined cell; your cries falling deaf to the walls that seemed to hug your conscience, squeezing you tight—you felt suffocated, and you want out. Your body tore itself apart just to stitch itself back together again.

And all of that in just one second. 

You pant, desperately trying to catch your breath, your head now infested by the seemingly endless amount of headaches that ensued. 

It hurts to be alive. 

And you questioned whether or not you would’ve gladly let your life be taken from you if it meant you didn’t wouldn’t have experienced this.  

You coughed into your palm, and upon seeing the blood that trickled down your hand, you felt yourself losing grip on reality—you were so done. Turning your head around, you surveyed the room you were in; or rather, the cell you were in. Bare minimums were met, the toilet sat by the corner, the most definitely uncomfortable bed that would have your back cracking indefinitely if you had slept on it, and strangely, the small pot of flower that was put away in a corner. And the security camera—

—you scowled; the sight and knowledge of being observed had your nerves up in flames, aggravating you to no end. You stood up from where you sat and looked around for something to prop yourself onto, eventually spotting the small stool that found its way under the bed. 

Getting to work, you picked up the stool and placed it right beneath the corner where the security camera sat, blinking innocently at you as though it served a justifiable purpose—watching over you, every single second you would be in here. 

Unfortunately for you, you were just barely out of reach from tearing down the device yourself; jumping did not work, either. You sighed in defeat, yet not wanting to give up your pursuit of destroying the camera. 

You took to the pot of flowers that sat in a corner, approaching it, you could tell from afar it was your favorite—forget-me-not, sitting in a typical looking ceramic flower pot. On the regular you would’ve been happy, flattered, even, that somehow someone knew the exact favorite of yours—yet in this situation, it only served as a mockery; as though it knew and wanted only your suffering. As if whoever had planted this here was hoping the flowers alone would make you forget where you are.

It hadn’t helped that you studied flower language, either, and whoever picked this one out did not take account of how ironic the selection would be.

You snatched the pot up from the ground, the flowers fluttered in unison, almost if they were begging you to not throw them. You bit back the bitter taste in your tongue, you usually would’ve never done this; but extreme situations called for extreme measures. You turned to stare into the camera yet again, catching a glimpse of its eye blinking back at you, as if questioning your next move. 

Sighing, you positioned yourself slightly far away from where the camera was placed, fingers gripping tight around the curve of the flower pot, aiming high as you chucked the object with all your might. A loud ‘clunk’ could be heard when the pot made an impact; in an instant, the camera imploded within itself, causing fragments of the device to rain down onto the floor beneath it, rendering it completely useless. 

You were caught off-guard by your strength—never once had you managed to successfully open a tight-lipped jar, so why was it now that you were able to destroy a camera only with the throw of a flower pot? Had security cameras always been that finicky? You tilted your head to the side in confusion, your brain racking around for answers as to why you gained a newfound strength. You slowly turn around and stare at the metal bars, ones that have tormented your mind for so long—“ no escape,” it screams. 

But you ought to try, even if your efforts may be in vain; and especially considering you have a period of time when the camera is down and you were 99% sure no one was watching you anymore. You approached the bars, your fingers reached up to grasp around the cylinder shaped metal, tightening your hold as if your life depended on the cold, biting metal.

And in an ironic sense, it did. 

You mentally prepared yourself—this could easily end up being a fluke and you would look like an amateur escapist, or you could very much be out of here instantly if you did succeed.

Oh, what the heck, what else do you have to lose, anyway? 

Taking a gulp of air, you hunched over slightly and pulled. 

You weren’t sure what you expected, but to be launched back from the strong pull of your own and landing on your butt, effectively bruising it as you let out a soft ‘ouch’ on the impact. You coughed, and the image in front of you flooded your mind—the bars; they were broken. Your eyes shone like never before, adrenaline ran through your body, ignoring the pain in your palms from when you dug your nails slightly too deep into the skin of it.

They were broken!

You had managed to snatch two of them out from the roots, the gap that was left in its demise wide enough for you to fit yourself through. 

You felt giddy, and before you could lose the opportunity of escape—you took it. 

You rejoiced, jumping in newfound joy as you threw your arms up in the air and ran across the vast hallway, and if you noticed; you would’ve recognized that you were the only one in there, with only one cell occupying the entire space of the hallway. You paid no mind to anything else and sprinted toward what you assumed would be the exit, the larger-than-life doors automatically slid open as you approached. 

Your feet felt like the weight of feathers, carrying you down the empty hallway with ease and at the speed you’ve never experienced before. You could outrun a car—you were sure of it.

Light.

You could see the light shining through in-between the cracks, but instead of despair and your demise—you approached it with a flicker of hope swimming in your bloodstream, like a seemingly dead lighter cracking with sparks, lighting up your senses.

You were beyond delirious. 

And upon reaching the gigantic doors, you ran down another large hallway before coming face-to-face with yet another door, this time, it hadn’t opened for you. 

A frown found its way onto your features, your eyebrows furrowed as you slowed your pace and inspected the mechanics of the door. You could see the glow of a handprint security console to your right, the light from it illuminating the dark, unsuspecting hallway. 

You shrugged, and settled for the good, old fashioned way: brute forcing it. 

You laid both your palms flat against the surface of the door, taking a deep breath, you concentrated on your palms and pushed. 

It only made a small dent this time around—but you were determined to escape, to see the light of the sky and the breeze that would greet you with fluttering touches. You kept pushing, and the more you pushed, the more you exhausted your body—you couldn’t stop now; not when the grasp of freedom is within the palm of your hands, quite literally. You could hear the screeching creaks of the hedges, a positive sign; because it would mean you were close to breaking it down. Your body pushing its limit against the weight of the door, prayers falling out along with your heavy breaths. And soon enough, you felt the weight of the door suddenly lessened tenfold, slowly falling over—and you almost tumbled down along with it. 

It was excruciatingly loud.

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel had excused himself for a tea break when he saw you had woken up, his eyes restless as he hadn’t had a wink of sleep in days. So imagine his utter disbelief and surprise when he came back to his desk thinking he was able to have a small break, only to find that you had somehow managed to wreck the security camera he had installed prior to your arrival. He let out a string of curses in his mother tongue, “¡Ay, coño!” as his fingers worked their magic, the absurdity of the situation had gotten to him–

—this was the exact reason he told Peter B. Parker that he couldn’t catch a small rest every time he would suggest, because whenever he does, shit goes down.

Panic ensued, coursing through his entire fiber of being as he fiddled around with his keyboard with insane speed, the sound of ‘clicks’ and ‘clacks’ motivated him to find your whereabouts—you couldn’t have been far, after all, this was his building. 

You rode the high of having pushed over a door that probably weighed a thousand times more than you; but you weren’t prepared for the sight that would meet your eyes next—

—Spider-people.

A lot of them.

So much so that you could feel a hundred pairs of eyes staring you down, as if to see what could be behind the collapsed gate. To their curiosity and confusion, the dust from where the door fell soon blown away by the wind, revealing your comically tiny figure compared to the large gate, how you had been the culprit that somehow brute forced her way through their security measures, some Spider-people eyeing you with a glint of amusement—the others? Couldn’t care less, you saw how one Spider-woman went back to enjoying a few sips on her cup of drink as she kept on walking. 

Well.

You had caused a scene.

And this should be the part of the play where you run.

Suddenly, the speakers blared loud alarms, and you saw the way all of their watches’ screens turned on—revealing the oh-so familiar face you’ve grown to despise. 

“All stations, stop what you’re doing right now, we have a prisoner on the loose—capture on spot by any means.”

It seemed as though the world stopped functioning for just that one second; your breath hitched, the entirety of the vast spaces that were occupied by the Spider-people dropped into complete silence–you could’ve sworn you heard someone clearing their throat somewhere amongst them. 

“That’s her, right?” You could hear one of the Spider-men on the far right quip, scratching his head.

“Yeah I’m pretty sure–”

“Are you an idiot? Of course it’s her—” another one raised their voice, pointing at you and hopping in frustration.

“No that couldn’t be her,” you spoke up, your voice deepened, pretending to chime in as one of them while you cautiously side-stepped into the empty hall closest to you.

“Puta madre,” Miguel’s words rang through everyone’s ears, “It is her, get her now!”

All at once, the dozen eyes of the Spider-people landed on you, some of them gearing up to prepare for the chase, the others stared you down with what you would assume to be murderous gaze. You gave a small, innocent wave with a nervous smile worn on your face as someone in the back shouted. 

“What are you guys doing?! Get her!”

You felt your heart leap out of your chest.

…maybe you should’ve stayed inside your prison cell.

#spider-man: across the spider-verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #angst #hurt/comfort #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #spiderman

[mintaikk]

Oc Introduction

When you realize you've had your OCs for over five years but never made a height chart

Anyways, here is the main cast for one of my stories! It doesn't have a name yet, but I just refer to it as the Réaltraverse for now. It's about a boy named Phantom who was revived after being doormant for over a hundred years and exploring the world around him, while also seeing what secrets it had to hide.

From left to right, their names are Blueblood, Phantom, Sparrow, and Chroni

More character info below cut

Blueblood

I don't want to say too much about them, because it would be spoilers if I ever do anything with this, but if you scroll hsrd enough, you can probably find more stuffnon them. But I can give base info!

Blueblood (they/them) is a mysterious elf that has a special relation to butterflies. They're very secretive, preferring to keep to themselves and getting defensive when anyone tries to pry anything about them. Blueblood isn't even their real name, as they want to keep their identity a secret. They are moody and can be irritable, but they're a good provider of information to the group. They're also the only non-vakint in the main cast. While they are mostly level-headed, they have tendencies to be rather violent, taking pleasure in harming the people they don't like.

Blueblood is one of my favorite characters to write, and I have a lot of stuff for them planned!

Phantom

The protagonist! Some background info on him and the rest of the cast's species, since you have to understand that to know what he is.

Anyways, Phantom! Phantom is a vakint that was made to kill a certain queen, but was given sentience by the witch who made him. The plan got called off for various reasons, and Phantom's magic was put in his mask, making him doormant for the next hundred years, until Sparrow accidently revived him. He has the vibes and mannerisms of a 1930s showman, and he's very energetic, mischievous, and playful. He can be a bit sadistic, not afraid to kill anyone when he needs to, even taking pleasure in it (which Sparrow doesn't like). Other than that, he is very dramatic and a bit emotional, talking everything up like it's a major thing. The best way I can describe him is 'theater kid.' Ignoring the hundrd year part, he's about 15-16 years old.

Vakints are a species composed of pure magic. They were made a couple thousand years ago by a spider-like species called Arachnidians and were made to carry out tasks. They're born with a mask, and the only way they can be killed is if their mask is broken. They can look like pretty much anything, but one of their eyes will always be black and they will always have pointed claws. When they're first made, they don't have any sentience and just do what their masters tell them. But they can gain sentience if their masters grant it to them.

Sparrow

The one who accidently revived Phantom after applying his mask to a mysterious sigil. Sparrow is a vakint and is quiet, shy, and a bit awkward, but he absolutely loves history and folklore and can talk for hours about it. He enjoys exploring and collecting items he finds to research them with Chronix later. Most of his past is foggy to him, but he's trying his best to remeber, so he often goes back to the place he was made (Cavum Hollow) to find clues. Sparrow works as the voice of reason for the group.

Chroni

Chroni is the oldest vakint of the group, despite being the shorter. And, despite her sweet appearance, she can speak rather violently about horrifying subjects. She has an obsession with time and always carries watches with her, and her obsessive personality can carry into other things . She's easily distracted and very spontaneous. Like Sparrow, she enjoys exploring but would rather indulge in it for her own interest than do it for research purposes. She prefers to surround herself with things she likes and gets incredibly angry when any of it is destroyed. I'm very excited to show her lore since I have a lot of plans with it!

If you read this far, thank you so much! It means a lot to me that someone cares about the little world I'm making. I have trouble putting my ideas into words, so if you have questions, please ask me!

#this took like 14 hours to draw im very happy its done and i love it #réaltraverse #blueblood #phantom #sparrow #chronix #stories #oc #oc art #oc artwork #artists on tumblr #artists of tumblr #writers on tumblr #artblr #artist #small artist #art #artist on tumblr #artwork #digital art #digital artist #digital artwork #digital drawing #illustration #character art #cartoon art #fantasy art #concept art #art practice #digital illustration

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

They’ve put up all the Taskmaster season 16 interviews already, which I like. In recent seasons they’ve been putting them out earlier and earlier into the season, and I always thought they should really just put all of them up before the season starts, as those are meant to be a way to get a feel for the contestants ahead of actually seeing them. The way they’ve split it in earlier seasons has a couple airing before the season starts and then the others airing a few episodes in, so some give you that feel for ones we don’t know about yet and then some are just extra details about people we’ve already seen on the show, and it’s a bit confusing. I much prefer being able to watch them all beforehand.

I watched them all tonight, and quite enjoyed that. Liked the format of this one – finally making them draw a picture of Alex after years of drawing Greg. And God, Alex is good at his job. Sometimes I forget a bit, or just take it for granted, how incredibly funny Alex Horne can be while just really causally, deadpan, fucking with a contestant via simple questions. To answer one of the questions he asked – no, I don’t think anyone else could do that job as well as he does (though Paul Williams is also fucking good at it). I think a lot of other people could do Greg’s job, very few could do Alex’s.

The interviews were fun. I enjoyed how much of an impression Julian Clary made, as I haven’t seen him do much else so that was a nice way to get to know him a bit. Imposing and confident. The only one to not just do everything Alex asked him. Clearly it’s a character, but there may have also been an underlying bit of “I have had a very long and very successful career in showbusiness, I don’t need to be desperate to do well on a panel show.”

Lucy Beaumont’s reminded me of how much I enjoy watching Lucy Beaumont do anything. I’ve seen her do quite a few things by now, and I still don’t have much of a handle on how much of her ditzy persona is real, but I am looking forward to seeing if I can figure it out via Taskmaster. Not even try to figure out “her true hidden self” or whatever – I’d just like to know how much of it we’re supposed to assume is a character. Though the fact that I can’t really tell is definitely part of her charm. Nearly everything about her is part of her charm. She’s got a lot of charm. So much charm.

I liked Sue Perkins’ mix of Julian Cleary’s “I’m too successful to need to be desperate to impress on a panel show” attitude (the exact opposite of Lucy Beaumont, who came off as being full of “desperate to impress on a panel show” attitude, which is what I’d expected from her), and Lucy Beaumont’s struggling and scrambling. She came off as pretty similar to the Sue Perkins I know from other panel shows, which is exactly what I hope she’ll be on Taskmaster. The duality of humanity. The confidence and the scrambling. The cool exterior and the panic. It’s going to be fun.

Susan Wokoma was the one I knew the least well, even including Cleary, so seeing her was fun. It was funny to watch her after someone like Julian Cleary, who was deadpanning right alongside Alex. While Susan was the opposite, breaking into giggles at the absurdity of everything he said, reminding me that way of Desiree Burch or even Katherine Parkinson. Constantly surprised by the revelation of what show she’s on (which might be explained by her answer of “my agents wanted me to” when asked why she did the show). Her laugh is fun to listen to, as is her defensiveness every time Alex changes the rules. I look forward to listening to both those things for ten episodes.

Sam Campbell had me worried for a bit, with my bold claims that I think he will be better at the tasks (not even at the comedy, just at scoring points in the tasks) than anyone else on this season. It doesn’t bode incredibly well toward me being proven right that he couldn’t remember how pronouns worked and tripped over his words on every sentence when asked to make a pretty simple language change. That skill is integral to a lot of tasks. Though my hopes were restored when his picture was revealed at the end, and it was by far the best. That’s a skill I didn’t even know he had when I was listing the skills he’s displayed through his stand-up that I think will make him good at tasks. Turns out Sammy C can draw, add that to the list of reasons for my prediction! (Actually I’ve just realized I did already know that, he drew that picture that James Acaster brought in ages ago.) Anyway, he was huge fun, that was the sort of energy level I've been hoping he'll bring.

I had a friend on Tumblr apologize to me the other day for whether they talk too much about finding a comedian attractive, as though I am too respectable a person for such tawdry things and shouldn’t have to hear them. Which is a ridiculous thing to apologize for, given that I’m well aware that Tumblr.com is very much the talking about famous people you want to fuck website. I mean, I might personally use it for other things, but I’m not here to disrespect its main function. So having said that, I’ve had a crush on Sue Perkins since I first got into Radio 4’s The News Quiz when I was nineteen. I didn’t even know what she looked like until I’d been hearing her voice for years, but just hearing her on the radio was enough to do that (though… when I eventually Googled a picture of her, that certainly didn’t hurt). On the subject of voices, seeing Lucy Beaumont’s video has reminded me that that particular accent is… certainly an impressive accent. That’s a good accent. What's the least creepy way I can say that's a good accent? Because I'd like to do that. And look, I sort of think that everyone, regardless of their gender or usual sexual orientation, who sees Sam Campbell has at least a bit of a crush on him.

So there you go, I thought I’d end my post with something to let people know that no one has to apologize to me for calling comedians hot on Tumblr.com; I can do it too, even if I usually make at least some effort to say these sorts of things slightly less often than I think them. But I’m glad everyone is having a good time.

New season tomorrow! New season tomorrow! Very excited for the new season tomorrow (even though I’m going to see Grace Petrie tomorrow, which I’m incredibly fucking excited about, so I won’t get to watch the episode until Friday after work). Happy early Taskmaster Day to all who celebrate!

[snippychicke]

For Sake of a Smile Chapter Sixteen

I bet you thought I was dead, huh? Well I have broken the binds of depression again and have brought a gift! Aka, chapter 16 which is long over due.

For those new:

Fandom: Welcome to Demon School, Iruma-kun

Pairing: Balam Shichiro/Reader

Summary: Hell on earth was your motto for your job. Granted, you were pretty sure earth really was hell, considering the shit you had seen. And the fact your coworker was a child. Suzuki Iruma, in fact. A kid who’s life was decidedly worse than yours, but smiled despite everything.

And you’d do a lot for his smile. Including summoning a demon and signing your life away.

But as it turns out, hell (The Netherworld, actually) was a lot better than living on earth. Demons were more humane than a lot of humans you knew.

And Iruma’s smile wasn’t the only one that would change your life.

Masterlist | Ao3| mairimashitai! Simps Discord

Your body hurt.

The cool autumn air was both refreshing and like sharp daggers to your lungs as you gasped for breath.

Yet while you were barely upright, arms braced against your knees, Opera was impeccable as always; looking at you with a mote of concern on their face. "Do you need a moment?"

You needed several moments. Actually, you needed a hot bath and then a cup of pain-relieving tea as you settled into your bed. Hell, even taking an impromptu nap in the torn-up grass sounded like a lovely idea.

But you remembered how easily you were snared by the drooling vine just a few days ago; how weak and helpless you were, how one tiny mistake had almost cost you your life.

Then, to make things even worse was the vivid memory of Shichiro's reaction to you being in danger. That small glimpse of his demonic nature, triggered because of his worry.  And then there was how Sullivan and Iruma reacted when they learned about the incident, thanks to Shichiro who didn't gloss over how close you had been to death.

You had both them - plus Shichiro - plastered to your side for the better part of the next few days  making you wonder who was the mother hen, you or them.

But their reactions made you realize something. For the first time in your life, you had people who really cared if you were hurt - or worse. They actually loved you, just as much as you loved them.

Your thoughts strengthened your resolve as you stood taller despite your legs feeling like jelly. You were going to do your best to make sure your loved ones never had to worry about you. Or rather, at the very least, you could protect yourself from an overgrown weed.

"Not yet," You bit out, earning a faint proud look as Opera's tail twitched. They shifted, holding their hands in a defensive position. You took it as your cue to lunge once more, attacking as they had instructed. A swinging kick, then a sharp jab to try and break their defense. Your movements felt sluggish even to you, so it was no surprise as Opera easily blocked each strike.

But as they had mentioned before; you were new to the exercises they were putting you through, so the focus wasn't on landing the hits. It was fluidly moving from one action into the next and not having to pause to think about how to strike next.

You continued on, trying to press past your muscles screaming in pain and your limbs shaking from exertion. Your strikes became sloppy, and Opera put a stop with a sweeping kick to your legs.

In that split-second, you feared crashing onto the ground - only for Opera to catch and lower you gently to the loose dirt.

You swore the damned demon was faster than light.

"You mustn't press yourself too much, my lady." They spoke as you stared up at the sky, still trying to figure out what exactly just happened.

You looked up into their golden eyes. "...I need to be stronger, so everyone doesn't worry about me."

Opera's ears twitched as they tilted their head slightly. "We will always worry about you, just as you will always worry over master Iruma."

"Iruma is different," You protested. "He's...."

"Your child, just as much as you are Lord Sullivan's," Opera interrupted gently. "And we both know Shichiro will worry no matter how strong you become."

You sat up slowly, your mind trying to process the idea. Yes, you had adopted Sullivan as a father figure - someone to go to for help (the few times you were desperate enough to actually ask someone else for help.) - and he did dote on you, but the thought he might feel as protective over you as you felt towards Iruma was a difficult pill to swallow.

You were an adult. You had taken care of yourself for years.

...as had Iruma, despite being a child. And that fact made you even more protective of him.

If the hints you picked up were true, Sullivan was far older - and probably saw your few decades of life as nothing, and considered you a child.

"... what about you?" You asked to turn your thoughts away from that realization. "I know you serve...dad, and you're Shichiro's friend..."

Opera tilted their head once more, studying you intently with those piercing eyes. "When I first enrolled at Babyls, it was chaos. The strong students preyed upon the weak, and the rules meant nothing.The teachers let the students run wild outside of classes. But between my kohai and myself, we brought peace and order to the student body - and Lord Sullivan hired teachers who cared for the students outside of class. I thought Babyls couldn't improve after that - that it was the best it could be - but you and Master Iruma have already made a powerful impact that I feel has made it even better. And if you can do that in just a few short months, how much of a positive impact can you two make on the rest of the Netherworld?"

Your stomach twisted even more. You had been so busy just trying to survive, you had been unaware of making any impact.

But... you recalled the students now taking refuge in your library, finding it a quiet sanctuary. The misfits calling you mom, and how you would have discussions with the Literature batra as well as others about philosophical ideas where demons and humans seemed to have drastic ideas.

"That is why I serve you and Master Iruma," Opera finished as they helped you to your feet. "Because you have earned my trust and respect despite being human."

-----

Kitten was very attached to you. He had no problem with the rest of the family --Shichiro included-- as long as you were nearby.

But you learned that as you left to go grab something while he was playing with Iruma (more like trying to chew his ring) the moment you went to leave the room, Kitten started to yowl and scrambled off Iruma's lap. His ruined wings did their best to flap as he ran across the room before jumping half-way up your leg and crawling up the rest with needle-sharp claws.

So going to work without Kitten was obviously going to be nigh impossible.

-----

The students quickly warmed up the Kitten, but he was not as eager to meet the students. He wanted nothing to do with them, and instead he ignored them as he feigned sleep on your lap (or perhaps truly sleeping, seeing how active he was at night - and how much the kittens of earth loved to sleep).

It took a few days before he was bold enough to start exploring the library - or at least around your desk. Though he would often hiss and retreat if anyone strayed to close. You tried to get him to be more accepting with treats and toys, though the results were mixed.

Jazz watched the Kitten peek around the corner of the desk leg as the demon dangled one of the toys you had brought for the cat. (Granted, you didn't recall giving the student the toy, and had a sneaking suspicion his 'snake fingers' were at work again).

"He's... cute," Jazz commented after a moment, breaking your concentration on the paperwork you had been doing. "I didn't think familiars should be cute, though I suppose Eggy-sensei is awfully fluffy...."

"He's not a familiar," You answered, smiling as you saw Kitten finally pawing at the fuzzy worm on a string. "And I believe familiars can be cute no matter what. Appearance can be deceiving, after all."

The teen was quiet, but had a thoughtful expression on his face. "... what if they're as fluffy and cute as they appear, though? What does that say about a demon?"

"Well," You started, having an odd feeling the conversation topic had a deeper meaning than just beating away an awkward silence. "I mean, I'm not the expert of familiars, but from what I've read, I think it just means at their core, that demon is..." Was it a good thing to say that a demon was a 'good person'? That they have a good heart? You considered it a valuable trait, but some traits in the Netherworld were different.

Eh, you were gonna take the chance. "It's a good thing," You continued when Jazz looked up questioningly after your long pause. "Sure it may not look traditionally strong, or vicious as some, but sometimes when push comes to shove, the softest, kindest people can become ruthless powerhouses when needed. I personally respect those individuals the most."

Your suspicion was proven true as Jazz looked away, seemingly embarrassed but a faint smile on his lips. You'd have to ask Iruma later if he knew anything about his classmate's familiar.

"I never thought about it that way, mom," He admitted after a moment, your nickname still causing a warm feeling to fill your chest.

-----

"Despite anything I say," You sighed as you collapsed on the couch in the biology prep room, careful of Kitten who you held close to your chest until you were settled. "Everyone is convinced Kitten is my familiar. He is a baby."

"There have been instances of the offspring of a familiar taking over their parent's contract," Shichiro offered as he set a tray of tea and snacks down on the table before taking a seat next to you, pulling you close so you were nestled against his side. You instantly melted into him, soaking in his warmth. "... not as young as he is, however."

You smiled softly as Shichiro wrapped his arm around you, fingers scitching against Kitten's cheek. The cat arched up against the hand that was larger than his body, his purr rumbling loudly. Despite Shichiro's initial hesitation about taking in the feral kitten, it was obvious that he was quickly growing fond of it - especially as he realized it wasn't a danger to you.

For now.

"Have you figured out what he is, yet?" You asked as you carefully reached for a snack, only to be jostled as Shichiro sat up straighter, obviously excited. He suddenly paused for a moment; you were about to ask what was bothering him when a vine descended from the ceiling and pulled a book from one of the shelves and delivered it to his outstretched hand.

"I didn't want to move," He explained sheepishly at your amused expression. You laughed as you snuggled more into his side, resting your head against his chest. He stroked your hair with one hand while the other placed the book in his lap and carefully flipped through the pages.

You recognized the art inside the book; not so much the creatures it depicted, but the carefully, intricate style. "Wait, is this one of yours?"

"It was one of my first research books," He explained. "I had started it shortly after graduating from Babyls. I wanted to study some of the lesser known creatures depicted mainly in legends and rumors - and I'm pretty sure our little kitten here is a Kausa. Also colloquially known as Library Cats, since they're found in old temples and abandoned ruins. Which - there is an abandoned temple for an ancient deity in the forest, so that makes sense. And the good news is their main diet is small birds and rodents, though they do enjoy feeding off the spirits and mana that lingered in such areas."

"So, he isn't going to try to eat me when he grows up?" You asked, though you hadn't missed the term 'our kitten', causing your chest to warm.

"He won't grow much bigger than a hellcat," He confirmed. "And maybe not even that big, considering he's a runt with ruined wings."

Your smile fell slightly as you looked at the ragged remains of the kitten's wings. You had watched him many times try to use them whenever he jumped. You had heard more than a few students, and even a couple teachers, make a few disparaging remarks about his defects.

"I don't care. I love him, imperfections and all," you swore stubbronly, saying the words you had to bit back when you overheard the others. "It doesn't make him any less in my eyes."

You were pulled into Shichiro's lap, displacing his book. His muscular arms wrapped around your waist and his face buried in your shoulder. "You humans are such fascinating beings," he muttered, warm and reverent.

You hadn't even considered the dual implications until then. You shifted so you could press a kiss to the edge of his mask, tempted to remove it so you could kiss him properly. Instead, you met and held his gaze pointedly. "I will fight whoever states that you're not handsome, or beautiful, or whatever. Same with our little kitten."

His smile was reflected in his eyes as he held you tighter. "As touched as I am, please don't start picking fights."

"Opera's been teaching me," You defended playfully. "And I have my runes ready at all times now." You shifted your arm to show the defensive runes and sigil's hidden by the long arms of your coat. (The same many of the teachers wore, and for good reason. The castle of Babyls was becoming chilly as the seasons vhanged, and you were not a living furnace - unlike Shichiro.)

Despite your playful attitude, he narrowed his eyes seriously. "No fighting. Please."

You were tempted to push the point - if just to be ornery - but sighed dramatically. "Fine. I won't pick a fight. But if I ever hear someone insult you or Kitten, I won't stand by idly. You both mean too much to me."

He sighed but held you closer, apparently unable - or unwilling - to argue that. So you allowed the subject to slide and instead turned back to the book that had been nearly forgotten.

Shichiro had two art styles: one was the soft, cute drawings of his picture books while the other was hyper-realistic as he did careful drawings of his research subjects. The Kausa looked as if it would starting moving and continue stalking along the yellowed page. The detail he had put into the samplesof the creature's claws and fur, the shape of a lithe body and matching leathery wings, left you breathless. But what really caught your attention was the patterns of golden whorls against rusty brown fur that matched what you saw on Kitten.

"Do you think if I was a demon, I'd have a familiar like that?" You asked. Familiars were - of course - an area of interest for you. You had done research into the area, especially about humans having familiars (such as the relationship between Kalego and Iruma) with little success.

"The familiar summoning is usually a reflection of a demons true self; their desires, ambitions..." he mused thoughtfully. "Having a Kausa would probably fit you. Defensive of their home and kits, doesn't seek out power, but prefers places others have abandoned."

You indulged yourself with the idea despite knowing you would never have such a bond with Kitten. You just happened to stumble upon him, it said nothing about who you were (well, other than you lacked forethought and self-preservation).

But he could possibly become a companion - jq1ust like any other cat. Or he could grow into a cold, aloof adult that wanted nothing to do with you.

Only time would tell.

"Niggyul is your familiar, right?" You asked after a moment, seeing the little dragon watching inquisitively from above, as if not sure he wanted to enjoy the cuddle pile.  

"Well, not exactly," Shichiro admitted, looking up to the dragon and holding out his hand. Niggyul chirped before jumping down and curling his tail around Shichiro's fingers for support. "My bond with him is like a demon and familiar's bond, but I didn't summon him, instead, it was more like I cultivated him." He saw your curious expression and continued. "I found his seed years ago and carefully nurtured his growth with my mana, training him to respond to it as a familiar would its master's commands."

"That's awesome..." You trailed off as Kitten noticed the dragon that was currently smaller than him. You were tense, worried how Kitten - or Niggyul for that matter - would react as he carefully reached up to smell the tiny dragon.

But instead of acting aggressively, Nigyul allowed Kitten a moment to smell before nuzzling the kitten and even trying to groom the ball of floof.

"Definitely like his master," You teased, looking up to Shichiro who blushed.

"Well, he is our kitten."

It was your turn to blush as you buried your face as best as you could into his chest. You felt as well as heard Shichiro's chuckle as he held you a smidge tighter.

----

Within just a few weeks, Kitten became bolder and braver. Soon, he loved to wander.

Outside the Library.

Shichiro had helped fashion a collar for the little fluff ball, and you had engraved a sigil linked to a ring that shined when activated, leading you to your errant kitten.

He was usually one of two places: with Iruma (he seemed focused on Iruma's ring for some reason) or Shichiro, curled in the large demon's hand ss Shichiro taught class- though sometimes you would find him with Opera or Sullivan. And you had found him once or twice in other classrooms being a distraction.

But today was a new one; you found him purring contently in Kalego's lap as the demon was working on some papers in the teacher's lounge.

"I was wondering when you would show up," He stated coldly, though one hand was scratching Kitten's ears. "You need to have better control over it."

"He's a cat," You defended. "Have you ever tried to control a cat? It's impossible."

A dark look passed over his face, and you belatedly remembered his....issues with Opera - who was as cat-like as they came.

You were a second from plucking Kitten from Kalego's lap when the old-fashioned phone (by your standards at least) rang. And - well, pulling Kitten away while Kalego was mindlessly giving skritches as he answered seemed wrong. After all, positive reinforcement for both Kitten and Kalego wouldn't be amiss. You tried to be respectful and not eavesdrop on the conversation, and studied the rest of the teacher's lounge, the others mulling about, either working on paperwork at their own desk or talking quietly with one another.

You were still surprised how different of an atmosphere having colleagues that respected one another and genuinely enjoyed their job compared to your previous life. You felt so comfortable and at ease it was startling even now.

There was a sudden spike of mana that even you could feel, causing the hair on your neck and arms tobstand on-end and your instincts screaming danger. Kalego's facial expression had shifted to his typical annoyed to enraged. "Are you criticizing our education principles?!" He snarled into the phone while Cerberion appeared behind his master with all three sets of fangs bared in a growl.

Kitten jumped from Kalego's lap and climbed up your leg as you unconsciously took a step back, your instincts telling you to run far, far away. And hide.

But before you could act on those instincts, Dali stepped in with his signature calm, cheerful expression, his own subtle on his face as he took the phone from Kalego's hands. You were less interested in the older demon's ability to easily defuse the situation, and more in the words you could hear from whomever was on the end of the call. Their cold, firm voice sent shivers down your spine.

"Call Soi then. He will withdrawl himself."

--- Short--

"But, we're sure Soi is here?" You asked dubiously later that same day, well after school had ended. Soi had withdrawn as his father had said, but shortly had disappeared after that, neither to be seen in classes or, apparently, at the home of the Purson clan.

Kalego nodded slightly. "We have ways of keeping track of students to assure they at least stay on school grounds. His exact whereabouts are harder to discern, but he hasn't left the property."

Oddly, that made you heart hurt even more to know Soi didn't want to return home to his family, but still felt as if he needed to hide from everyone else as well, despite the fact the misfit class had embraced him fully.

Thoughts of somehow finding Soi and dragging him back to your home turned in your mind, fueled by the mothering instinct you were becoming infamous for. There was plenty of space in the mansion, especially for a demon like Soi. Sullivan would likely be all to happy to adopt another grandson... hopefully, at least.

Then again, keeping the fact you and Iruma were human would be tricky. Soi may be quiet and discreet, but you had experienced his habit of 'info-dumping' before his own class when you had quite literally stumbled over him when he had been reading in one of the newly-created reading nooks, and he started complaining about studying.

"He'll be fine," Shichiro answered, either correctly guessing your train of thought, or just be coincidence. Your guess was on the former, considering how well he knew you.  "The entirity of Babyls is behind him and will assure his basic needs are met. This isn't the first time we've delt with this kind of situation."

"Agreed. This is a good experience for a demon his age, it will help him grow and forge his own path," Kalego added. "And that is our primary goal. Not to mold them into whatever puppets their family may want, but to help them grow into themself."

You sighed as you sunk back into the Biology preproom's couch (unsure when the room became the natural gathering place, but had a feeling it was before your arrival). "You're right... but that's going to be hard for me not to worry."

Kalego raised an eybrow, "You are a very odd demon."

You froze, and felt Shichiro tense beside you as well. Sure you had heard the term before, using being laughed by one of the other teachers after you had a slip of the tongue.

But Kalego wasn't amused. His dark eyes were narrow, his gaze sharp enough it pinned you in place. All you could think was 'he knows he knows he knows' . It was inevitable, surely. But it still caught you off guard, and you weren't sure how he felt about it, about you. He had seemed tolerent, even amicable, of you before. Devi, you considered him virtually a friend at this point.

But, would this change things? Would he be not as accepting as Shichiro and Opera? What about Iruma? Did he suspect him to not be a demon as well? Was Iruma no longer safe?

Kalego blinked as he looked away dismissively, taking a drink of the dark burgundy wine instead. "Not that it matters, seeing as you're hardly a threat to the students."

Shichiro sagged in relief, though you could hardly do the same. Fear and anxiety still gripped your heart. "You're right," you said carefully after a moment. "I am hardly a threat. If anything, I'm the one in danger here."

Kalego raised his brow once more in surprise, and Shichiro whispered your name softly, almost to caution you. Your hand found his, squeezing tight as you continued. "I've been lucky this far, but I know that inevitably my weakness will be found out by someone more malevolent."

"And if that does come to pass," Kalego stated matter-of-factly, "They will find out that no matter how weak or different you are, you are part of Babyls faculty. And we don't take kindly to any that would harm our own."

The Kausa/ Library cat is borrowed from this post with permission even!

#balam shichiro #balam/reader #mairimashita! iruma kun

[mylesimeblr]

why did you say; “and i shouldn’t say that”? like honestly that makes it seem like as if you know you’re doing something wrong. but maybe you just meant it because of this fandom.

anyways i really don’t see how calling someone cute is all that bad. or bad at all. most of the time it’s said in an innocent way. people should go after real sexualizers though. i remember concerts finn has done and the main part of the audience was 20+ year old woman calling him hot THATS weird. and like not just recent ones but from when he was 13/14 too… people really just don’t see the wrong in it either. my mom keeps calling him attractive every-time she sees him which also makes me very uncomfortable. and i think this is why so many fans are so defensive because the cast gets sexualized so much. especially finn and millie.

Honestly, if I said "and I shouldn't say that" it's JUST because I knew people here would go crazy over me saying the word cute for a person they apparently still consider a "child". I knew people would misread my post and jump to conclusion. They always do. And hadn't been this fandom so toxic, I wouldn't have been defensive like this tbh. Because saying that Finn is "cute" NEVER meant an attraction in my book. He's just that, yeah. He's cute. In an endearing kind of way.

Now, I'm gonna walk on eggshells again because I know that my point of view doesn't correspond to the political correctness of this time.

I understand that 20 yo women calling 13 yo as "hot" can come off as weird because the word is inappropriate. I personally don't understand why or how you can call a kid "hot" when you're past 15 so yeah but to each their own, I guess. I mean, when I was 13 I had this HUGE crush on a 40 yo married guy and if stuff had happened, I would have been totally on board. (Nothing never happened). I've dated guys and girls sometimes 10 years older than me or 2 years younger... When I was about 19 I had crazy wet dreams on Cate Blanchett and Richard Grant... So, I don't care about this sort of thing. Age to me is a very vague concept that I don't understand and I think we're making too much of a fuss about it in this time period. But that's just MY opinion. And again in case I haven't been clear: I am NOT attracted to guys (or girls) younger than me, so 20 yos are way out of the scope. The only guy in the cast I find remotely attractive is Joe because he's my age.

As for your mom, I can understand you're freaked out. I used to be crept out too when my mom or her friends made comments on some of my male friends in High School. But then I realized that I was just making a transfer because I was scared of being sexualized myself and now that I'm older, I can see how harmless she meant it. I'm never gonna use the word attractive myself but I really think we demonize age too much, esp when the person is legally an adult. There is a huge difference between a woman having one emotion for one twenty year old in particular and a creep like Polanski who openly expresses his attraction for 13 yo girls. Even DiCaprio who only dates women before 25. I completely tolerate an isolated situation, so seeing a couple with an age difference will never shock me (and yes even if one of the person is what the US consider "underage" around 16 - 17 - only speaking of healthy relationships here), but when it becomes a trend, that's when it gets suspicious.

The problem today is that we put everything is the same basket and treat isolated situations as global deviances. A reminder that this obsession with "protecting" children is very modern. Kings and Queens used to marry at 13. The view we have today is unique on the scale of human history.

Anyway, I hope I will not be misread again.

EDIT because it's important: there is just ONE thing that I will NEVER tolerate. It's when we ship ACTORS. That's my one absolute limit. Esp when they're kids. That's disgusting. As for Millie, the stylists have sexualized her for years. She's 18 but on red carpets she looks older than me and THAT is not normal.

#I hope I made sense #and that people are not gonna freak out again #I'll stop talking honestly #this fandom is weird

[miajolensdevotion]

BE A FAITHFUL WITNESS

WELCOME When was the first time you heard about Jesus Christ? If you were to use one word to describe who Jesus it to you, what word would you use? Why?

WORD Acts 24:1-27 Paul’s Trial Before Felix 24 Five days later the high priest Ananias went down to Caesarea with some of the elders and a lawyer named Tertullus, and they brought their charges against Paul before the governor. 2 When Paul was called in, Tertullus presented his case before Felix: “We have enjoyed a long period of peace under you, and your foresight has brought about reforms in this nation. 3 Everywhere and in every way, most excellent Felix, we acknowledge this with profound gratitude. 4 But in order not to weary you further, I would request that you be kind enough to hear us briefly. 5 “We have found this man to be a troublemaker, stirring up riots among the Jews all over the world. He is a ringleader of the Nazarene sect 6 and even tried to desecrate the temple; so we seized him. [7] [a] 8 By examining him yourself you will be able to learn the truth about all these charges we are bringing against him.”

9 The other Jews joined in the accusation, asserting that these things were true. 10 When the governor motioned for him to speak, Paul replied: “I know that for a number of years you have been a judge over this nation; so I gladly make my defense. 11 You can easily verify that no more than twelve days ago I went up to Jerusalem to worship.12 My accusers did not find me arguing with anyone at the temple, or stirring up a crowd in the synagogues or anywhere else in the city. 13 And they cannot prove to you the charges they are now making against me.14 However, I admit that I worship the God of our ancestors as a follower of the Way, which they call a sect. I believe everything that is in accordance with the Law and that is written in the Prophets, 15 and I have the same hope in God as these men themselves have, that there will be a resurrection of both the righteous and the wicked. 16 So I strive always to keep my conscience clear before God and man. 17 “After an absence of several years, I came to Jerusalem to bring my people gifts for the poor and to present offerings. 18 I was ceremonially cleanwhen they found me in the temple courts doing this. There was no crowd with me, nor was I involved in any disturbance. 19 But there are some Jews from the province of Asia, who ought to be here before you and bring charges if they have anything against me. 20 Or these who are here should state what crime they found in me when I stood before the Sanhedrin—21 unless it was this one thing I shouted as I stood in their presence: ‘It is concerning the resurrection of the dead that I am on trial before you today.’” 22 Then Felix, who was well acquainted with the Way, adjourned the proceedings. “When Lysias the commander comes,” he said, “I will decide your case.” 23 He ordered the centurion to keep Paul under guardbut to give him some freedom and permit his friends to take care of his needs.

24 Several days later Felix came with his wife Drusilla, who was Jewish. He sent for Paul and listened to him as he spoke about faith in Christ Jesus.25 As Paul talked about righteousness, self-control and the judgment to come, Felix was afraid and said, “That’s enough for now! You may leave. When I find it convenient, I will send for you.” 26 At the same time he was hoping that Paul would offer him a bribe, so he sent for him frequently and talked with him. 27 When two years had passed, Felix was succeeded by Porcius Festus, but because Felix wanted to grant a favor to the Jews, he left Paul in prison.

Acts 25:1-27

Paul’s Trial Before Festus 25 Three days after arriving in the province, Festus went up from Caesarea to Jerusalem, 2 where the chief priests and the Jewish leaders appeared before him and presented the charges against Paul. 3 They requested Festus, as a favor to them, to have Paul transferred to Jerusalem, for they were preparing an ambush to kill him along the way. 4 Festus answered, “Paul is being held at Caesarea, and I myself am going there soon. 5 Let some of your leaders come with me, and if the man has done anything wrong, they can press charges against him there.” 6 After spending eight or ten days with them, Festus went down to Caesarea. The next day he convened the courtand ordered that Paul be brought before him. 7 When Paul came in, the Jews who had come down from Jerusalem stood around him. They brought many serious charges against him, but they could not prove them.

8 Then Paul made his defense: “I have done nothing wrong against the Jewish law or against the temple or against Caesar.”

9 Festus, wishing to do the Jews a favor, said to Paul, “Are you willing to go up to Jerusalem and stand trial before me there on these charges?” 10 Paul answered: “I am now standing before Caesar’s court, where I ought to be tried. I have not done any wrong to the Jews, as you yourself know very well. 11 If, however, I am guilty of doing anything deserving death, I do not refuse to die. But if the charges brought against me by these Jews are not true, no one has the right to hand me over to them. I appeal to Caesar!”

12 After Festus had conferred with his council, he declared: “You have appealed to Caesar. To Caesar you will go!”

Festus Consults King Agrippa 13 A few days later King Agrippa and Bernice arrived at Caesarea to pay their respects to Festus. 14 Since they were spending many days there, Festus discussed Paul’s case with the king. He said: “There is a man here whom Felix left as a prisoner. 15 When I went to Jerusalem, the chief priests and the elders of the Jews brought charges against him and asked that he be condemned. 16 “I told them that it is not the Roman custom to hand over anyone before they have faced their accusers and have had an opportunity to defend themselves against the charges.17 When they came here with me, I did not delay the case, but convened the court the next day and ordered the man to be brought in. 18 When his accusers got up to speak, they did not charge him with any of the crimes I had expected. 19 Instead, they had some points of dispute with him about their own religion and about a dead man named Jesus who Paul claimed was alive. 20 I was at a loss how to investigate such matters; so I asked if he would be willing to go to Jerusalem and stand trial there on these charges.21 But when Paul made his appeal to be held over for the Emperor’s decision, I ordered him held until I could send him to Caesar.” 22 Then Agrippa said to Festus, “I would like to hear this man myself.”

He replied, “Tomorrow you will hear him.”

Paul Before Agrippa 23 The next day Agrippa and Bernicecame with great pomp and entered the audience room with the high-ranking military officers and the prominent men of the city. At the command of Festus, Paul was brought in. 24 Festus said: “King Agrippa, and all who are present with us, you see this man! The whole Jewish community has petitioned me about him in Jerusalem and here in Caesarea, shouting that he ought not to live any longer. 25 I found he had done nothing deserving of death, but because he made his appeal to the Emperor I decided to send him to Rome. 26 But I have nothing definite to write to His Majesty about him. Therefore I have brought him before all of you, and especially before you, King Agrippa, so that as a result of this investigation I may have something to write. 27 For I think it is unreasonable to send a prisoner on to Rome without specifying the charges against him.”

Acts 26:1-32

26 Then Agrippa said to Paul, “You have permission to speak for yourself.”

So Paul motioned with his hand and began his defense: 2 “King Agrippa, I consider myself fortunate to stand before you today as I make my defense against all the accusations of the Jews, 3 and especially so because you are well acquainted with all the Jewish customs and controversies.Therefore, I beg you to listen to me patiently. 4 “The Jewish people all know the way I have lived ever since I was a child,from the beginning of my life in my own country, and also in Jerusalem.5 They have known me for a long timeand can testify, if they are willing, that I conformed to the strictest sect of our religion, living as a Pharisee. 6 And now it is because of my hope in what God has promised our ancestors that I am on trial today. 7 This is the promise our twelve tribes are hoping to see fulfilled as they earnestly serve God day and night. King Agrippa, it is because of this hope that these Jews are accusing me. 8 Why should any of you consider it incredible that God raises the dead? 9 “I too was convinced that I ought to do all that was possible to oppose the name of Jesus of Nazareth. 10 And that is just what I did in Jerusalem. On the authority of the chief priests I put many of the Lord’s people in prison,and when they were put to death, I cast my vote against them. 11 Many a time I went from one synagogue to another to have them punished, and I tried to force them to blaspheme. I was so obsessed with persecuting them that I even hunted them down in foreign cities. 12 “On one of these journeys I was going to Damascus with the authority and commission of the chief priests.13 About noon, King Agrippa, as I was on the road, I saw a light from heaven, brighter than the sun, blazing around me and my companions. 14 We all fell to the ground, and I heard a voicesaying to me in Aramaic,[a] ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.’

15 “Then I asked, ‘Who are you, Lord?’

“ ‘I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,’ the Lord replied. 16 ‘Now get up and stand on your feet. I have appeared to you to appoint you as a servant and as a witness of what you have seen and will see of me. 17 I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles. I am sending you to them 18 to open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, so that they may receive forgiveness of sinsand a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me.’

19 “So then, King Agrippa, I was not disobedient to the vision from heaven.20 First to those in Damascus, then to those in Jerusalem and in all Judea, and then to the Gentiles, I preached that they should repent and turn to God and demonstrate their repentance by their deeds. 21 That is why some Jews seized me in the temple courts and tried to kill me. 22 But God has helped me to this very day; so I stand here and testify to small and great alike. I am saying nothing beyond what the prophets and Moses said would happen— 23 that the Messiah would suffer and, as the first to rise from the dead, would bring the message of light to his own people and to the Gentiles.” 24 At this point Festus interrupted Paul’s defense. “You are out of your mind, Paul!” he shouted. “Your great learning is driving you insane.”

25 “I am not insane, most excellentFestus,” Paul replied. “What I am saying is true and reasonable. 26 The king is familiar with these things, and I can speak freely to him. I am convinced that none of this has escaped his notice, because it was not done in a corner. 27 King Agrippa, do you believe the prophets? I know you do.”

28 Then Agrippa said to Paul, “Do you think that in such a short time you can persuade me to be a Christian?”

29 Paul replied, “Short time or long—I pray to God that not only you but all who are listening to me today may become what I am, except for these chains.” 30 The king rose, and with him the governor and Bernice and those sitting with them. 31 After they left the room, they began saying to one another, “This man is not doing anything that deserves death or imprisonment.”

32 Agrippa said to Festus, “This man could have been set free if he had not appealed to Caesar.”

The apostle Paul’s life serves as an encouragement for all followers of Christ. He was not shaken by even the most difficult circumstances as he sought to fulfill God’s mission for him. Instead, he was firm on his purpose, his eyes fixed on Jesus & was able to accomplish great things in the mission field. Today, we are bombarded by discouragements & challenges that cause many to lose hope. Paul had his hope rooted in Christ. If we want to remain faithful to our calling in the of our trials & sufferings, our hope must be grounded in Christ. Paul was a worthy example of a FAITHFUL WITNESS for the gospe. Jesus sent the Holy Spirit

Acts 1:8

8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

to enable us to be His witnesses to the entire world. To be a faithful witness:

1) BE CREDIBLE

A faithful witness is CREDIBLE. Paul’s life was a good background for the message he shared to others. He was beyond reproach & his confidence was in Christ. Amidst the accusations thrown against him,

Acts 24:1-6

Paul’s Trial Before Felix 24 Five days later the high priest Ananias went down to Caesarea with some of the elders and a lawyer named Tertullus, and they brought their charges against Paul before the governor. 2 When Paul was called in, Tertullus presented his case before Felix: “We have enjoyed a long period of peace under you, and your foresight has brought about reforms in this nation. 3 Everywhere and in every way, most excellent Felix, we acknowledge this with profound gratitude. 4 But in order not to weary you further, I would request that you be kind enough to hear us briefly.

5 “We have found this man to be a troublemaker, stirring up riots among the Jews all over the world. He is a ringleader of the Nazarene sect 6 and even tried to desecrate the temple; so we seized him.

Paul was credible in his defense & there was no proof of his guilt over accusations that he was the ringleader of a Nazarene sect starting riots, etc.

Acts 24:10-14

10 When the governor motioned for him to speak, Paul replied: “I know that for a number of years you have been a judge over this nation; so I gladly make my defense. 11 You can easily verify that no more than twelve days ago I went up to Jerusalem to worship.12 My accusers did not find me arguing with anyone at the temple, or stirring up a crowd in the synagogues or anywhere else in the city. 13 And they cannot prove to you the charges they are now making against me.14 However, I admit that I worship the God of our ancestors as a follower of the Way, which they call a sect. I believe everything that is in accordance with the Law and that is written in the Prophets,

Paul was credible because he had a clear conscience before Christ & men. Having a clear conscience does not mean that we are perfect; it means that before God, we keep living a life that clearly brings honor & glory to Him. 1 Peter 3:15-16

15 But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, 16 keeping a clear conscience,so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander.

reminds us to always be ready to defend the faith with gentleness & reverence & to keep a good conscience before those who are against us.

2) BE COURAGEOUS A faithful witness is COURAGEOUS. Sometimes we feel embarrassed to speak about the gospel, but like Paul, we can be filled with courage as we lean on the assurance that God is with us. Acts 24:24-25 24 Several days later Felix came with his wife Drusilla, who was Jewish. He sent for Paul and listened to him as he spoke about faith in Christ Jesus.25 As Paul talked about righteousness, self-control and the judgment to come, Felix was afraid and said, “That’s enough for now! You may leave. When I find it convenient, I will send for you.”

recounts how Paul discussed righteousness, self-control & God’s judgement with governor Felix & his Jewish wife, Drusilla. Felix was cruel, unrighteous & immoral. Drusilla divorced her husband to be with Felix. That is why when Paul presented the gospel, he did not sugarcoat the truth; he told them of God’s righteousness & the coming judgement! We are to speak the truth in love. Ephesians 4:15

15 Instead, speaking the truth in love,we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.

Though Paul was a credible & courageous witness. Felix did not believe in Jesus. So, remember that you can be the best witness, but you cannot change the hearts of people. Changing hearts is ultimately God’s department! As witnesses, we can only make sure that we share Christ with others, empowered by the Spirit & trust God for the results.

3) BE CHRIST CENTERED Paul thereafter was kept in jail & yet even in the dark times. Paul’s heart continued to hope in Christ. When the new governor, Festus was about to send him to Jerusalem for trial, Paul knew that it will be a treacherous route; with divine wisdom, he appealed to Caesar to stand trial in Rome. Acts 25:10-11

10 Paul answered: “I am now standing before Caesar’s court, where I ought to be tried. I have not done any wrong to the Jews, as you yourself know very well. 11 If, however, I am guilty of doing anything deserving death, I do not refuse to die. But if the charges brought against me by these Jews are not true, no one has the right to hand me over to them. I appeal to Caesar!”

In his report to King Agrippa II, Festus verdict was that Paul could not be charged with any crime. Acts 25:18-20

18 When his accusers got up to speak, they did not charge him with any of the crimes I had expected. 19 Instead, they had some points of dispute with him about their own religion and about a dead man named Jesus who Paul claimed was alive. 20 I was at a loss how to investigate such matters; so I asked if he would be willing to go to Jerusalem and stand trial there on these charges.

In Acts 26, Paul was given permission to meet King Agrippa II & queen Bernice, before whom Paul once again was able to share the gospel through his testimony as he defended his case. Paul’s defense was not a mere presentation of his innocence, nor ab attack against his accusers. A faithful witness is always CHRIST CENTERED. Paul took the opportunity to share God’s amazing story in his life! We see this repeated in Acts; Paul was consistent with his story of redemption by Christ. He defined himself a strict adherent to the law as a Pharisee & shared how he led the persecution of Christians Acts 26:8-10

8 Why should any of you consider it incredible that God raises the dead? 9 “I too was convinced that I ought to do all that was possible to oppose the name of Jesus of Nazareth. 10 And that is just what I did in Jerusalem. On the authority of the chief priests I put many of the Lord’s people in prison,and when they were put to death, I cast my vote against them.

before his life changing encounter with Jesus on the Damascus Road. Paul was one guy you will not want to invite to your Bible studies. He was considered a dangerous enemy of Christ. BUT NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE WITH GOD! As Paul continues his story, the central point became JESUS CHRIST. It is Jesus who plays the transformative role in our salvation story; to open our eyes, release us from darkness to light, forgive us of our sins, provide us an eternal inheritance & to transform our lives! Agrippa rightly observed that Paul wanted to persuade him to turn to Christ.

Acts 26:28-29

28 Then Agrippa said to Paul, “Do you think that in such a short time you can persuade me to be a Christian?”

29 Paul replied, “Short time or long—I pray to God that not only you but all who are listening to me today may become what I am, except for these chains.”

Once again, the apostle was given a “not guilty” verdict by King Agrippa of any crime worthy of death or imprisonment. But the greater achievement of Paul was not getting cleared of all charges, but his FAITHFUL WITNESS for the Lord before kings & rulers & all those who were present with them. Are you ready to be a faithful witness of the gospel? Be credible, be courageous & be Christ centered!

DISCUSSION QUESTION: (DONT INCLUDE HERE YOUR PAST EXPERIENCE BECAUSE WE ARE NOW AT THE PRESENT, POST THIS IN YOUR WATTPAD)

How credible are you as a witness for Christ? Mia answer: As I witnes for Christ my credible is as long as I can share the gospel to others & pray for them Kathy answer:

In what areas do you need to improve in being Christ centered? Mia answer: In my attitude, I need to improve in being Christ centered Kathy answer:

Who is that one person whom you will courageously share the gospel to this week using your one minute teatimony? Mia answer: To my ka dgroup for now Kathy answ

[defensefilms]

Sixers Tie The Series At 2-2 With Overtime Victory

Having beat the Boston Celtics in game 4, the Philadelphia 76ers have tied the series against the Boston Celtics with a 116-115 victory that needed overtime to decide a winner.

Listen people, he may not be the most consistent player, and I’m never happy to hear about his social exploits, but the boy James Harden, is a baller and scorer.

 42 points, 9 assists and 8 rebounds is about as good as it gets and after some not-so-great showings in games 2 and 3, he was due for a big game and we needed every point.

The Sixers actually lead for most of this game because the Celtics were just awful for the first 3 quarters of the game but we actually dropped the ball by letting them back in to the game and they eventually tied the game 96-96 with just over 4 minutes remaining, once Jayson Tatum finally woke from his slumber.

That set off the most tense ending of a game and it really looked like the Sixers were going out with a loss after that 16 point lead, turned into a 9 point lead and Jayson Tatum tying the game at 96-96 in the 4th quarter.

Joel Embiid had a tough game, but as good as Al Horford was defensively, Embiid still put up a decent 34 points, 13 rebounds and 4 assists, and most importantly was aggressive in overtime which was the bisggest reason for the events that followed.

It was not Embiid’s best game and one of the things Doc Rivers needs to do is pay better attention to his players switching and defensive assisgnement, because if Horford is at the 3 point line it’s because they want to bring Embiid away from the paint.

Ideally, if Horford is at the 3 then the Sixers should allow any of the other 4 Sixers to switch and contest in order to keep Joel in the paint. 

Let me address the Boston Celtics.

I know that the Celtics were the favorites going in and that hasn’t changed, but being tied in this series is not ideal for Boston, they are slipping hard, performing way below what they’re capable of.  

Jayson Tatum’s 1st half was truly awful, he made up for it in the 4th quarter but his performance is very indicative of who the Celtics are as a team and even noted Celtics fan, Bill Simmons of The Ringer has said that “they have a bunch of players who were making big contributions this time last year, and in 2023 those guys have gone missing, to the point of questioning whether they can even be on the court”.

Derrick White, Grant Williams and Marcus Smart are all at a point right now where you’re wondering if they need their minutes shortened, especially Marcus Smart who had the most turnovers he’d had since game 1 with the 3 in game 4.

With a chance to take a 3-1 series lead, the Celtics have left themselves in a situation where there’s everything to play for and they know that the Sixers offense can present them with several issues, and Jaylen Brown opting to double team Joel Embiid and giving up a wide open 3 to James Harden in the Sixers’ final possession of overtime, is exactly the kind of gaffe the Sixers offense induces from opponents. 

Still a lot of basketball to play in this series, but Boston are slowly moving in to red alert territory.

#sports #basketball #nba #nba 2023 #nba playoffs #nba playoffs 2023 #philadelphia 76ers #sixers #boston celtics #joel embiid #james harden #jayson tatum #jaylen brown

[cauli-flawa]

A Piano-Themed Turn Based RPG - Ideas/Rambling

IM A MUSICIAN OK

Also these are just ideas, and something like this does NOT currently exist.

The Typing System:

“Pawns” will be referred to as Notes. 

- Each Note has a note name, of course. The note name determines where the Note is located at on the board, during a battle. 

Notes that are next to a time signature’s marking and share the same marking (for instance, a C sharp Note placed on a C sharp scale board, or any board with C sharp in the time signature), the impact of the key signature will be doubled.  

Notes that share a space on the board become linked by a tie/slur. This increases all of the notes’ stats. 

- Each Note has a sharp, flat, double sharp, double flat, or natural. These impact how the Note responds to the Key Signature of a battle. Double Sharps and Double Flats will be affected twice as much. Naturals will never be affected.

Also! Double Sharps and Double Flats will be affected TWICE as much by any status effect, good or bad.

Sharps are more effective against Flats, and Flats are more effective against Sharps. Double Sharps and Double Flats do 2x the bonus damage to their opposites. Naturals do not get affected. 

- The Note Type of a Note determines how much space the Note takes up on the board. The time signature of a board may prevent certain Notes from being used. Full notes take up the most space, while smaller-length notes like 16th notes would take up less space, meaning more 16th notes can occupy a board than other, longer notes. However, longer-length notes have much better stats.

- The dynamic marking of a Note is their HP. Most Notes have their base HP set to “mezzoforte” or “mezzopiano”. When the HP of a note goes below PPP, the Note must “rest” and cannot be used (Yes, i did say Rest). Resting Notes still take up space on the board.

The Battle System - I am not writing everything about the board modifiers:

All battles take place on the average left hand and right hand music bar. The “enemy” team and your team will be separated by a measure line.

- The key signature determines what “type” of note (sharp or flat) will have their stats impacted (or just the highest stat, idk). The more sharps or flats on the key signature, the higher the impact.

- Clefs determine whether the key signature creates a buff or debuff. A treble clef causes a buff, and a bass clef causes a debuff. 

- Time signatures indicate how many Notes you can place on the board when strategizing. Certain time signatures will not allow some notes. A 4/4 time signature can house four quarter notes, but only one whole note. Or you could be slightly insane and do 16 16th notes. Please don’t do that.

- Notes that have the same note type can share a place on the board, becoming a Chord so you can place more notes. The Chord’s HP equals that of the Note with the highest HP. Stats of a Chord will be made up of the average stats of the Notes used to form it. The moveset of a Chord is made up of moves from the Notes involved and is random, but the moves chosen are usually of average strength. However, there is always at least one offensive and one defensive/passive move in the moveset. If the Chord loses their HP, all Notes in the Chord will have to Rest. There can be a maximum of five Notes per Chord. Chording creates a lot of space to fit other Notes, but Notes in a Chord will be weaker than their solo counterparts. 

- Notes can switch between the RH and LH board. If you have an E-flat E Note on RH, and that board has an E flat in the time signature (severely weakening the Note), you can choose to move them to the LH board, with a different (and maybe even more beneficial) key signature. 

Status Effects (Double Sharps and Double Flats get hit twice as hard, or reap twice the benefits) - also I am not writing everything:

- Fermatas act as shields and grant two additional HP points. When the Fermata is depleted, the HP begins to be affected. 

- Crescendos increase HP over time, and Decrescendos decrease it. These status effects can effect one Note/Chord or an entire measure. A “hairpin” (a crescendo and then a decrescendo) cancels itself out. 

- Staccato and Legato decrease/increase the defense level of a Note.

- Accents increase the effect of pre-existing buffs.

-----

Thank you for tuning in, and I might add on later, but this is quite a lot! 

#rambling #rpg ideas #piano

[carolap53]

Acts 24Paul’s Trial Before Felix

24 Five days later the high priest Ananias went down to Caesarea with some of the elders and a lawyer named Tertullus, and they brought their charges against Paul before the governor. 2 When Paul was called in, Tertullus presented his case before Felix: “We have enjoyed a long period of peace under you, and your foresight has brought about reforms in this nation. 3 Everywhere and in every way, most excellent Felix, we acknowledge this with profound gratitude. 4 But in order not to weary you further, I would request that you be kind enough to hear us briefly.

5 “We have found this man to be a troublemaker, stirring up riots among the Jews all over the world. He is a ringleader of the Nazarene sect 6 and even tried to desecrate the temple; so we seized him. [7] 8 By examining him yourself you will be able to learn the truth about all these charges we are bringing against him.”

9 The other Jews joined in the accusation, asserting that these things were true.

10 When the governor motioned for him to speak, Paul replied: “I know that for a number of years you have been a judge over this nation; so I gladly make my defense. 11 You can easily verify that no more than twelve days ago I went up to Jerusalem to worship. 12 My accusers did not find me arguing with anyone at the temple, or stirring up a crowd in the synagogues or anywhere else in the city. 13 And they cannot prove to you the charges they are now making against me. 14 However, I admit that I worship the God of our ancestors as a follower of the Way, which they call a sect. I believe everything that is in accordance with the Law and that is written in the Prophets, 15 and I have the same hope in God as these men themselves have, that there will be a resurrection of both the righteous and the wicked. 16 So I strive always to keep my conscience clear before God and man.

17 “After an absence of several years, I came to Jerusalem to bring my people gifts for the poor and to present offerings. 18 I was ceremonially clean when they found me in the temple courts doing this. There was no crowd with me, nor was I involved in any disturbance. 19 But there are some Jews from the province of Asia, who ought to be here before you and bring charges if they have anything against me. 20 Or these who are here should state what crime they found in me when I stood before the Sanhedrin— 21 unless it was this one thing I shouted as I stood in their presence: ‘It is concerning the resurrection of the dead that I am on trial before you today.’”

22 Then Felix, who was well acquainted with the Way, adjourned the proceedings. “When Lysias the commander comes,” he said, “I will decide your case.” 23 He ordered the centurion to keep Paul under guard but to give him some freedom and permit his friends to take care of his needs.

24 Several days later Felix came with his wife Drusilla, who was Jewish. He sent for Paul and listened to him as he spoke about faith in Christ Jesus. 25 As Paul talked about righteousness, self-control and the judgment to come, Felix was afraid and said, “That’s enough for now! You may leave. When I find it convenient, I will send for you.” 26 At the same time he was hoping that Paul would offer him a bribe, so he sent for him frequently and talked with him.

27 When two years had passed, Felix was succeeded by Porcius Festus, but because Felix wanted to grant a favor to the Jews, he left Paul in prison.

New International Version

(NIV)

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Weedwhip

CR 2

Neutral Medium Plant

Bestiary 4, pg. 276

DMs of the world, are you tired of siccing your players on goblins and bandits for their first introductory missions? Want to really spice up those low-level adventures with something besides weak humanoids? Well, have I got a monster for you! Weedwhips are obnoxious plants that can grow in just about any soil, spread easily if not contained, reek to high heaven, are too foul-tasting and poisonous to actually be eaten by anything that’s not starving... and, most importantly, are too dangerous for farmers and commoners to actually deal with on their own!

A problem that’s dangerous, inconvenient, and impossible for the townies to solve? Looks like a job for fresh-faced adventurers! Be careful doing so, though; Weedwhips may seem rather unthreatening, with rather plain stat blocks, low damage, and even lacking the ability to make Attacks of Opportunity due to their Languid Whips, but they’re able to make themselves a decently potent threat against any creature who can’t just up and run away... Like, say, a party of adventurers tasked with slaying it.

To begin, the namesake whipping vines of the Weedwhip deal only 1d4 damage, but they possess a 15ft reach and it can attack with three of them in one round. While it never attacks unless attacked first, once it’s engaged, the Weedwhip will lash out at everything it sees as threatening, so players on the sidelines may take an unexpected slap to the face as the plant attacks. The 1d4 damage is low as you can get before hitting nonlethal, but each sting packs a poison that causes nausea for up to 6 rounds, making the victims unable to fight back as the aggressive plant slowly whips them into oblivion 3d4 points at a time. Any creature that attacks the Weedwhip with a natural slashing an/or piercing weapon is also exposed to this nauseating toxin, meaning any summoned creatures or Animal Companions are likely to be worthless past the first round.

On the defensive side, the wretched stink of the central flower is said to be akin to decaying fish, attracting all sorts of verminous pollinators to the plant... But unfortunately, the stink is SO potent it manifests as a stomach-churning Stench, sickening in any creature that fails a single DC 12 Fortitude save when too close to the flower. Unlike most Plant monsters, the flowers and vines of the Weedwhip aren’t some carnivorous feeding orifice, nor are they the hubs for the creature’s consciousness. Rather, you need to attack the bulb, the plump little bundle of tissue below the swaying, stinking yellow flower, but this is easier said than done since the plants are usually Dug In, granting themselves insurmountable partial cover against all attacks, While the Weedwhip cannot move while Dug In, it already couldn’t move much anyway, as its movespeed is a glacial 10ft. With no real reason to move unless it’s seeking richer soil, Weedwhips are likely to spend the entire fight rooted in place, protected from incoming attacks and making their 14 AC and average of 16 HP far better than they appear.

While they would be easily cleared out by any party with members above level 3, Weedwhips make for good, low-level Plant monsters a party can run across! And if it gets to be too much for them, they can always simply run away and come back later. It’s not gonna be going anywhere, probably... but there may be more of them if the party doesn’t return in time.

You can read more about them here.

#Monster Spotlight #CR 1 to 5 #Pathfinder #Dungeons and Dragons

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Family Business

A/N: It took me a while to write and finish it, but I like the idea a lot. Hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Mafia!Steve Rogers x F!Reader Word count: 3,008 Warnings: Death, weapons, mention of blood, swearing.

(Gif is not mine, by super-madi16)

Okay, so maybe this wasn’t the way you expected to spend an average Thursday night with your daughter.

Everything was going perfectly fine. The two of you were making dinner together in the large, modern kitchen of your New York penthouse, surrounding by the glimmering of lights from other buildings and down below in the bustling streets that never sleep.

Carbonara was on the menu. It was one of Stella’s favorite things to both make and eat. At the independent age of 16, it was rare that she wanted to spend time with you and Steve anymore. She would much rather be out with her friends and her dad’s credit card than to be cooped up in this rather ginormous penthouse the family called home.

But here she stood, stirring the sauce as you monitored the pasta, complaining about her day and about how stupid boys her age were (as she always put it she was looking for a man, not a boy which always resulted in Steve chocking on whatever he was eating or drinking at the time). That conversation resulted in complaining about school in general, and how much it sucked being a teen.

As you continued stirring the pasta and she went back on her phone to play another song from the Bluetooth speakers in the kitchen, a sudden gunshot erupted. Both of you froze, your eyes scanning the room to see all of the guards rushing in the direction of the noise. But it only took a fraction of a second for your mother bear instincts to kick in. Grabbing your daughter and pushing her into your chest, you desperately ran back and into the secret room behind your clothes in your walk-in closet, that Steve had designed especially for emergencies.

Running your fingers across the area, the door popped open. You desperately pushed your daughter in than yourself, shutting the metal door back with the huge lock and bar, and hid with her in one of the corners, turning the lights off. You could hear her heavy breathing, as clearly she was having a panic attack. Grabbing onto her and her soft hair, you held her and murmured sweet words of endearment in an attempt to calm her down, which seemed to work... some.

It wasn’t until you heard a loud bang against the door that you yourself softly gasped and clung onto your daughter, she let out a soft sob. Knowing someone, who was probably not an ally, was on the other side of the door frightened you and both her. She was the first, you noticed, to throw herself away from your and to a box only a few feet away. Through the dark, you could see her open the wooden box and grab a gun inside, her shaky hands visible. She slowly and as silently as she could, cocked the gun. “Stel,” You whispered to her, “I got it.” She shook her head. “Stella I told you-”

The loud crash from the metal door that one divided safety and danger between the two of you and the outside world came colliding down. You couldn’t identify much but a man with a gun in all black, his silhouette disrupting the light from your closet that seeped its way through the doorway. None of Steve’s men would dress in all black.

You weren’t sure what to do. In a fluster within your mind as your daughter held the sole weapon you two had and a man who could end it all right here, or worse, drag it on further out. Your eyes froze in a complete panic your hands involuntarily shaking and shivering cold with fear.

A gunshot sounded, the man falling to the floor in a single second as blood surrounding his body and ricocheted onto the walls. You gasped in relief, looking over to your daughter, “Stella?”

There the young girl, long brunette hair with delicate waves at the end, sat on her knees in complete horror and awe, staring at the dead body. She dropped the gun from her right hand and let out a horrid sob. Cupping her face in her hands, you rushed over on your hands and knees, holding her as tightly as you could without suffocating her body. You cooed her, brushing her soft hair in your fingers and placing your own chin on her head, engulfing both her body and soul within yours.

“I-I,” She mumbled, “I killed someone.” It took everything within your being not to start crying yourself, or worse, lash out at someone or something. The genuine and pure form of anger that pulsated in your veins made you want to rip something to shreds.

While ultimately this wasn’t Steve’s fault, you were mad at whoever did this. You had chosen this life with your husband, you two had chosen to have a child together. You brought her into this world, without her permission, and you always tried your hardest to keep her out of the world of Mafia.

She had been interested since day one of getting involved, being the head man, or headwoman just like Steve. And when she asked him about it all he wasn’t only happy to hear about her interest, he was proud. Something that Steve rarely meant, unless it was for Stella.

But you knew after tonight, that would change.

It was only a few minutes later, you were sure, but it felt like an hour for Steve himself and a whole military worth of his men to arrive. “Y/N?” He called out, running into your closet judging by the pattern of his feet moments on the hardwood floors, “Stella?”

His figure appeared in the light, his face turning from concern to sadness. Dropping the anger that once tensed his muscles, he walked over and dropped to the floor next to your daughter, as Bucky and Sam rounded the corner to see both the scene and the body in awe.

“Baby?” Steve cooed to your daughter. For the first time, she looked up with swollen and soaked eyes. Another sob escaped her lips as she moved from you to him, clinging onto his dress shirt for dear life as she cried into it, his large arms embracing her in a large hug as he kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay.”

“D-dad,” She stuttered out, pulling away to look at him.

“Yeah, sweetie?” He looked down at her, still holding her partially.

“I killed someone.” He looked with big eyes at her, then calmed down and sighed.

“Okay.” He huffed out, “We’ll deal with it okay?” He looked back to Bucky and Sam, snapping only once and looking to the body which they had other men help them out with, as Steve turned both you and Stella away.

“Dad, I’m a murderer.” She mumbled as more tears fell down her red cheeks.

“No, sweetheart, no you’re not.” He sighed, “It was self-defense.”

“But I killed someone!” She argued.

“To protect you and your mother.” He repeated himself, “Darling, that’s self-defense. You’re not a murderer, and you never will be.” She continued to hold onto Steve, still crying. “Let’s get out of here, okay?” She nodded, her head still buried in his chest.

He helped you up onto your feet first, checking over your face and giving a quick kiss to the top of your forehead, before retreating back to Stella. He picked her up, carrying her bridal style into the living room. Placing her down on the couch gracefully like she was a porcelain doll, he cooed her a bit more before barking at the men around the room to remove themselves and go elsewhere in the house.

“Baby? Are you okay?” The two of you sat down on the couch. He was on her left, you were on her right. Running his hand through her hair to calm her down, he genuinely looked worried.

“I can’t do that again, Dad.” She leaned into his chest, “I can’t.” She mumbled.

“I know, sweetie, I know.” He sighed, still running his hand over her head. “You won’t ever have to again. I promise.” He gave her a tender kiss on the top of her head, you now rubbing her back in circles with one of your hands. “Do you want some dinner?” He asked her next, aware that no one had eaten yet. She shook her head. “Mkay.” He sighed, not wanting to push her.

“I just- I just wanna go to my room.” She pulled away a little, giving both you and Steve one more hug.

“You sure, honey?” He asked very lightly. She nodded.

“We’ll text you with dinner options, alright?” You spoke up and she nodded. “We love you.” You smiled at her. She nodded and walked away. Once she was up the stairs, Steve let out a sigh and moved closer to you, throwing his arm around you. You sank back into his chest, closing your eyes to absorb the warmth and safety.

“And how are you?” He asked, giving you a kiss on the head.

“As good as I can be.” You replied. “I’m just worried about her.” He nodded.

“I am too.” He admitted, “I’m so sorry that happened, it’s my job to protect you two and-”

“And you weren’t here so it’s not your fault, Steve.” You fought back peacefully.

“But if that fucker wouldn’t have-”

“Steve, stop.” You told him firmly, “There’s no need to blame yourself for any of this, okay? If we should be worried about anything it’s Stella.” He nodded in agreement.

You felt some guilt as well. You should have been the one to have the gun, you were the adult in the situation. Granted Stella was exactly like Steve; she was persistent, she was stubborn. Usually, that would get her places, she could even get more money out of Steve for shopping trips or to go out with her friends because of her negotiation skills and how she would never stop. But today was drastically different, this was a situation where you didn’t want those traits to play out. Especially the way they did.

You curled into his chest, his arms wrapping around your body, your back to his chest. “I love you, so much.” He mumbled into your hair.

“I love you too.” You slightly smiled, rubbing his arms with your hands.

“So you know what you want for dinner?” He asked you next.

“I don’t care,” You sighed, “Maybe that Italian spot a few blocks away. The one that Wanda’s family owns.”

“Oh yeah,” He responded, “Let’s get take out from there.” He pulled out his phone, still holding you with one arm, and got the menu. “Should we get Stel something?” He asked, you nodded.

“Even if she doesn’t eat it tonight we can keep it in the fridge.” He nodded in agreement.

“What do you think she would want?” He asked you again and you lightly laughed.

“You know what she wants.” You rolled her eyes.

“Chicken tenders.” You both said in tandem, light laughter following. “Mkay love,” He got up, letting you set yourself back on the pillows, “I’m gonna go order, alright?” You nodded in agreement.

As he departed down the hall to order, to leave you without any disturbance, you chose to watch some TV. More as a mindless distraction, something to keep your eyes from replaying the scene in your mind of your daughter defending you. Something to occupy the ringing in your ears between the gunshot and the sobs of the one you loved most.

You tried so hard to be calm and collected, for both her and Steve. You knew Steve would loathe himself enough about all of this, now was your time to be the rock in the family. Even if you weren’t all that solid at the moment.

“Love? Baby, you there?” You heard Steve, breaking you from your trance.

“Huh, what?” You looked up with a soft smile as you glanced at his face. He smiled back.

“You zoned out there for a sec,” You nodded as he came to sit next to you again. He examined your face for a moment, seeing right through you as if your walls were made of glass. “Baby, I need you to talk to me.” He said softly, with a slight tinge of worry in his voice. You sighed, looking down to your hands and then back up at him.

“I’m just-” You tried to contemplate which words would accurately fit how you were feeling, “I’m conflicted.” You admitted to which he gave an inquisitive look.

“How so?” He asked.

“I want to- I need to be there for Stella,” You began, “But I also haven’t had time or space to process this myself. and maybe that’s selfish, I’m sure it is. But it’s all just so much-”

“It’s not selfish,” Steve insisted plainly, “Not at all. Stella’s been through a lot today, but so have you. And if you need all the time and space in the world to figure this out, I’ll figure out a way to give it to you.” He offered a kind smile. “I can be there for both you and Stella. That’s my duty.”

“But it shouldn’t be.”

“But it is,” he continued, “Because you willingly chose to immerse yourself in my lifestyle, which was enough to ask for, and Stella didn’t have a say.”

“But still I’m her mom and-”

“And you’ve both been through a lot and you both need time.” He gave you a peck on the cheek, “I love you, and you deserve all the time that you need.”

It took a few days for Stella to come back and begin to interact with you guys again. You had brought food to her room, some candy and ice cream too, everything and anything she needed. Steve had called her off school after yelling at the principal and using the excuse, “I pay enough for that damn school the least you can do is give my kid a few days off” which seemed to work.

It was minimal interaction at first. Initially, she was just grabbing some water. Then it turned to snacks, then to a very small conversation, then to her finally spending some time with you guys.

It wasn’t until you had all sat down for a family dinner that she had begun to open up, just a bit though. It was primarily you and Steve attempting to talk about things of interest that related to her: politics, books, anything you could. She remained silent, in her own mind and world. You weren’t sure what she was thinking, but you didn’t want to push or interrupt her either.

“Dad?” She finally spoke up, her voice reaching just above a whisper. Both of your heads shot up to where she sat, next to Steve and across from you.

“Yes, sweetie?” He asked, putting his full attention on her.

“I- um,” She began contemplating what she was going to say, looking down at her food which she has slowly been eating, “I need to tell you something, now, but you have to promise me that even if you get mad, you won’t yell or anything.”

“Of course not,” He grabbed her free hand and held it on the table, “I promise.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a few brief moments before looking back up to him, “I don’t think I can take over all of this.” She admitted, clearly awaiting a response with little breath.

“All of what?” Steve asked.

“Your position.” She clarified.

Naturally, she was next in line to be the mob boss. Sure she was a girl, Steve didn’t care though. He had been preparing her for most of her life. But you knew from the moment she pulled that trigger that that was it. She would never be able to be in the mob.

Steve stared for a few seconds, looking down and giving off a quiet sigh before clearing his throat. “That’s fine.” He lightly smiled, still holding her hand. She gave a confused look.

“A-are you sure? You have to be mad-”

“No, no I’m not. I get it.” He admitted, “And don’t worry. We’ll find someone to take over. We can’t forget Will, Uncle Buck’s son, he could take over too.” She nodded lightly.

“Thanks, dad.” She looked up at him with a tight smile, to which he smiled back.

“Darling, I hope you realize that your mother and I didn’t just have you to take over the business,” He clarified, “You’re our daughter, and that’s your first and only role to us.” You nodded too, silently agreeing with what he was saying.

“Thanks, Dad,” She softly smiled, “I love you guys.”

“We love you too.” You smiled, grabbing her other hand, before looking to Steve raising one of your eyebrows. He gave you a confused look, pondering over what you were trying to communicate, before finally getting it.

“Oh,” He sighed, with a soft smile, turning his attention back to Stella. “Your mother and I thought it might be best to take some time off, with you, of course, so we scheduled a three-week trip to stay down in Palm Beach, at the house there.” He smiled at her, to which she smiled back.

“Wait, but what about school?” She asked. Steve rolled his eyes.

“I dealt with it don’t worry.” He began, as you got up to begin taking plates to the dishwasher, “fuck school anyways.” Stella began laughing as water flew out of her mouth, to which she covered her mouth with her hand in shock, and Steve began laughing too.

“Hey!” You scolded him, “We should not be preaching that to our daughter. Or any kid for that matter.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m also allowing you to take three friends. No boys though, and their absence will be dealt with too.”

“Thanks, again, dad.” She smiled, genuinely, for the first time in weeks.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fan fiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #mafia!steve rogers #marvel #mafia!steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve rogers x y/n #mafia!steve rogers x you #Mob!Steve Rogers #mob!steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfiction #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader

[littjara-compleated-sage]

Building the Praetors pt. 5: Elesh Norn

Finally, we come to the finale of the praetor build sequence (following Jin, Sheoldred, Vorinclex, and Urabrask)! Norn cleaved to her D&D cleric archetype perfectly, and she was an extremely compelling build to make. I’ve always dreamed of playing the praetors in a D&D one-shot, perhaps as a flashback prior to their ascendancies. I was especially taken by Norn’s raw power and damage output capabilities as well as her durability.

Stats: STR 10 DEX 8 CON 18 INT 10 WIS 20 CHA 16

I knew I wanted to focus on Wis for her cleric spellcasting, Con for durability in combat, and Cha for her force of personality. Dex was an easy dump stat, fitting for the not-so-nimble but nigh-unkillable tank role that she plays in her party along with Vorinclex. Her subclass grants her proficiency with heavy armor, mitigating the loss of Dex. I headcanon that white Phyrexians’ porcelain is naturally the hardest and best for defense among the five main lineages.

Race: Scourge aasimar

I really liked the innate light cantrip and radiant/necrotic resistance (especially as in my own New Phyrexia D&D setting, the Orthodoxy’s signature damage type is radiant and Phyrexians’ oil attacks are necrotic). A self-damaging AoE effect seemed extremely neat for Norn and reminded me of the Phyrexian-mana-costing Marrow Shards. Racial ASIs have been switched over to +2 Wis and +1 Cha.

Background: Acolyte

Another natural choice for a pious cenobite who devoted her life to the Phyrexian Scriptures. I have an entire complicated and angsty headcanon about Norn’s backstory as an impressionable young priestess genuinely wanting to do good, being twisted by indoctrination and warped into the tyrant she is now—but that’s a whole different story.

Proficiencies: Insight, Intimidation, Perception, Persuasion, Religion, Common, Celestial, Infernal, Phyrexian

Every one of these skills and languages is wonderfully thematic (I just wish I could give her expertise in Religion). Infernal seems like a useful language for parsing ancient Phyrexian texts and memories, while Celestial reflects Norn’s affinity for angels and similar creatures.

Class: Order Cleric 20

I knew immediately that I wanted Norn to be a cleric, and the Order Domain was perfectly fitting for her abilities. It emphasizes battlefield control, commanding deference, and at higher levels buffs allies’ attacks on marked foes, which works extremely well with both Norn’s own card and others that feature her (like Due Respect). Without going into too-excruciating detail, Norn’s Order Cleric class features allow her to:

Have spells like command, heroism, hold person, zone of truth, compulsion, and dominate person always prepared

Command allies she buffs with her spells

Use Channel Divinity to charm enemies and force them to drop their weapons

Curse creatures she hits with her radiant Blessed Strike, causing the next ally’s attack against them to deal an extra 2d8 psychic damage

Spell Preparation: This is a sample spell list that Norn could have prepared on a given day, focusing on AoE buffs/debuffs and enchantment effects. Of particular note are the many radiance-themed area effect spells in her repertoire, which call to mind the card Rout.

I’ve always imagined Rout as a depiction of Norn casting Dawn (a signature spell of hers), showcasing both the majesty and the horrifying power of her magic. I wish she had access to crippling 9th-level damage spells like Power Word Kill, but you can’t have everything I suppose. Mass Heal is good enough as a wide-range ally buff.

Feats: Alert

Alert was to give her Vigilance, and it works well—a +5 to passive Perception brings hers up to 21, ensuring that almost nothing slips from her watchful gaze, and she is also impossible to take by surprise. It also gives her +4 to initiative despite having dumped Dexterity, which I’m very happy about.

Norn was a great powerful build to close out this series, and I hope you all have enjoyed these as much as I like making them. Since I love the idea of New Phyrexia characters as D&D PCs, I might go on to work on other praetor-affiliated characters like Glissa and Atraxa. Any suggestions?

#elesh norn #new phyrexia #mtg #magic the gathering #dnd #dnd 5e #cleric #order domain #listening to take me to church while making this was an excellent choice #dnd build

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 6

Helmetless + Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader

Summary: Three things happen at once. 

He pulls his glove off and tosses it aside. You forget how to breathe.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,114

Warnings: Swearing, backstory, angsty angst, fluffy fluff, mutual pining finally acknowledged, overuse of italics, don’t mess with Din’s Cupid or he’ll kill you

Author Note: Important please read this! Ok, so if you’ve been following along you’ll know I had no outline for this originally. And well, that’s come back to bite me. I had to make an edit to Part 2, a small one but still the very beginning will look marginally different if you’ve read it before today’s date Dec. 16, 2020. Basically, I took away the implication that You don’t know exactly how You became a Cupid. So, yeah. Hopefully moving forward I’ll be better handling all this *awkward shuffling*. As always, thank you for all the support and I appreciate every one of you so much ❤

Links to Part 1 and Part 5 and Part 7

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

Silence floods the ship in the wake of your admission, stifling and charged with enough tension you fear breathing too loud will set off a chain reaction with disastrous results. It makes the hair on the back of your neck prickle, every instinct inside of you screaming to teleport away, if only so you no longer have to see Din stubbornly trying and failing to hide his internal turmoil behind a mask of indifference. 

When he opens his mouth, you tense but the question slices through you all the same. “When?”

You hesitate, making a face. “Din, we really don’t have time for this. Let’s just move on—”

Without warning, the hand holding your elbow slides to your wrist and twists, turning your palm up for inspection. Din stares at the blank expanse of skin, then slowly his gaze lifts, and he releases you as if you’ve poisoned him.

“You’ve never lied to me before, angel. Did you honestly think now was the best time to start?” he asks, and something breaks inside of you when he looks at you as if you’ve become a total stranger to him.

But before any pain can begin to sink in, anger overcomes you as his assumption registers.

“I’m not lying, you asshole,” you say sharply, feeling a faint pulse of petty satisfaction when you notice the subtle way his stance shifts defensively, betraying his surprise at your boldness. Resting your hands on your hips, you fix him with your fiercest glare. “For all that you are a powerful ancient being of the universe, you are also the biggest, most ignorant fool I’ve ever met. You have absolutely no idea how Cupids become Cupids, do you?”

You don’t offer him even a second to respond, too wound up and fueled by the overwhelming desire to make him get it. To make him understand you’re not purposefully trying to hurt him. If it were up to you, you’d make sure he never felt any kind of pain. But that would require having a choice and that is the one thing the universe did not grant you as a Cupid.

“Every Cupid was once a mortal with a soulmate,” you explain, choosing each word with careful precision while watching his face to make sure his focus never wavers. “And every one of us was rejected by them. When we die, we’re transformed into Cupids, losing our soulmate markings in the process.” When you feel your bottom lip begin to wobble, you pause to take a steadying breath. “You asked me before, what is the true purpose of a Cupid? It’s to help others find the kind of love we never experienced for ourselves.”

Din stands there in front of you, still staring passively, and you’re scared for a moment your words have made no difference, but then his jaw clenches so tightly you hear his teeth grinding. 

“You were rejected?” he growls, vicious and guttural, the sound of a feral beast.

He pivots, fist colliding with the wall with enough force it dents the metal beneath his knuckles. You flinch at the noise, shocked at the abuse he’s inflicted upon his beloved ship. Every bone in his hand should have shattered upon impact, but because Death is immune to such damage he merely turns back to you, breathing raggedly and eyes blackened with rage.

“Tell me his name.”

You’ve already begun shaking your head before you say, “So you can go hunt him down? Hell no. Trust me, it doesn’t matter.”

Instead of pacifying him, this only infuriates him further. “How can you say that? That bastard broke your heart when he was supposed to cherish you, protect you, love you above all else.”

“You think I don’t know that?” you ask peevishly, letting your temper get the better of you. Sparing a moment to mentally count to ten, you quietly reveal, “I can say it doesn’t matter because I don’t even remember who he was. There is no point sending you to kill someone who’s face I can’t pick out of a crowd.”

The sudden way Din’s whole body slumps in response to the news, like a puppet whose strings have been cut, expression scrunched and dumbfounded, would have made you laugh if the circumstances were entirely different. Being what they are, you can only meet his stare evenly, silently assuring him you’re not joking in the slightest.

“I don’t understand,” Din says at last, looking like he wants to approach but is unsure you’ll welcome his nearness so he keeps his distance. “You never told me you had memory loss before. What happened to you?”

You shrug helplessly. “I don’t know. For as long as I’ve been a Cupid, all my memories from my mortal life have dark spots, like something poked holes in them.”

Din glances away as he mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like ‘Or someone’ but before you can comment, his tone rises to its usual volume as he says, “Is this why you collect all those old newspapers? To try to help you remember?”

You recall with embarrassment him having previously commented on the pile in your living room. That moment feels like years ago, the two of you sitting in your apartment and Din asking...if Cupids were on the list of potential soulmates. Was that his way of asking if you were on the list? Surely not. He’s much cleverer than that.

...Isn’t he?

“I just,” you shake your head, refocusing on the current conversation. “I keep thinking maybe I’ll find something that fills in the gaps. I don’t like this pit in my stomach, this feeling that I’ve forgotten something important.” You huff a self-deprecating chuckle. “Other than my soulmate, I mean.”

He offers you a smile, small and lopsided, likely meant to be consoling, but you see right through it. You see his pain in the tightness around his mouth, in the way his fingers flex at his sides like it’s taking all his self-control not to reach out to you. Your confession has hurt him. Badly. It’s the kind of hurt no amount of bacta can heal.

The silence returns, different than the one usually experienced during hyperspace in that it wishes to be broken, for someone to say something, anything. You would grant its wish except your thoughts are a jumbled mess inside your head. Deep down, there is a part of you which knows there is nothing you can say that will fix this—this being the chasm forming between you and Din, widening with every passing second spent staring wordlessly at each other. 

Would telling him sooner have prevented this heartbreak? Probably. But looking back, you can’t think of an opportune moment. You had never thought your crush could be requited—not just because you were already matched, but also because it had always seemed so ridiculous, imagining the great and powerful Death feeling anything remotely close to affection for an unimportant, low-ranking Cupid. 

“Angel,” Din begins after a few minutes, his voice anchoring you back in the present. He’s staring over your shoulder, brow furrowed thoughtfully and you can practically hear the gears turning inside his head. “Earlier, you said you didn’t tell your boss I was your client. Why didn’t you?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stutter, before an unexpected wave of boldness comes over you. Digging your finger into the armor on his chest, you remind him, “You came to me first, remember? Not them. So, I figured you didn’t want them knowing.”

“I couldn’t care less who knows,” Din deadpans.

“Oh.” You blink, hand falling back along your side, because what else can you say.

“You want to know what I think?” Oh Maker, he’s stepping closer until there’s only a foot of space between you two. His voice is a low, raspy murmur, sending your heartbeat into overdrive. “I think you didn’t want them knowing because you like being the only angel who does.”

You start to squirm, fight or flight instincts at total war with each other. His theory isn’t too far from the truth, making it all the worse hearing it out loud because it practically oozes possessiveness which is exactly what you’d feared.

“Before you pull away from me again,” Din continues, knowing you and your mind too damn well. “I want you to listen when I say nothing that you’ve told me changes how I feel about you.”

“Din—” you try, only for your voice to crack.

Then three things happen at once.

He pulls his glove off and tosses it aside. You forget how to breathe.

“I’ve been alone my entire existence and I kept telling myself that was how the universe intended it to be. That I couldn’t love anyone because I kill everything I touch.” A smile pulls at his lips when he looks down at his bare hand and a note of awe slips into his voice. “Then you came along, beautiful and clumsy and unafraid to call me out for being an ass. I started looking forward to each full moon because it meant I got to see you and admire every new detail about your life you chose to share with me. And then when this appeared,” he nods towards the soulmate marking, gleaming faintly beneath the overhead lighting, “all I could think of was you.”

You feel your throat becoming thick as you blink back tears, inhaling sharply through your nose. “Why didn’t you say anything at the train station? Why would you let me try to set you up with matches if you liked me that way?”

Din grimaces, abashed. “Because after you said there weren’t any Cupids on your list, I realized you didn’t know I liked you. I convinced myself I had to show you how I felt, instead of tell you. Although,” he holds up a finger, backtracking, “I actually almost did confess, on our way to Sorgan, but you stopped me. And that just further convinced me actions spoke louder than words. I knew none of the people you found me could ever compare with you, so I thought once you saw each unsuccessful connection, you’d realize the only hand I want to hold is yours.”

“Din, it can’t be me.” Your protest is weak, on the verge of caving in, forcing you to try another angle. “I can’t have two soulmates.”

He inhales a breath so sharp and unexpected, it startles your poor heart into skipping a beat.

Din looks at you like you’ve gifted him all the stars in the galaxy, brown eyes blown wide with hope. “Angel, do you mean it? That you consider me—”

“Of course, you idiot.” You attempt a laugh, but it comes out sounding broken and forced. “As Death, as Din, as whoever you want to be, I’ll always consider you. But...what if what happened on Sorgan happens to us? What if the universe doesn’t favor us?”

“I just want to be yours.” Din extends his hand towards you. “And if that means breaking the universe’s rules, then fuck it. We’ll make up our own. Together.”

Time seems to stand still, like you’ve entered a realm separate from the rest of the universe where you’re able to forget you have a complicated past, filled with holes and a soulmate who rejected you. Here it’s just you, Din, and his offer to love you unconditionally. Here you have a choice.

And it’s the easiest one you’ve ever made.

You slowly lift up your hand to hover in front of his, fingers trembling as they uncurl.

“Together,” you whisper.

And then your hands are moving to meet one another, closer and closer until his fingertips brush yours, sending a spark of warmth through your nervous system. Oh, Maker, you had described what you imagined a soulmate connection was like, but you had no idea this is the true experience. It’s like a sunrise dissolving midnight skies, lighting up your surroundings with breathtaking vibrancy. You can’t fathom how you survived all this time being in his presence without feeling his touch.

“Dank farrik,” he mutters hoarsely, sounding just as overwhelmed and awestruck as you feel.

You open your mouth, but instead of words a whimper of agony escapes instead. That lovely warmth spreading from your linked hands has started to boil, white-hot and furious. It’s as if all your internal parts have caught fire and are slowly withering to ash—your organs, your bones, even your kriffing blood. 

Your body crumples and Din cries out your name, but you don’t get to hear him say it, unconscious before your head collides with the floor.

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#din x you #din djarin x you #din x reader #din djarin x reader #Din Djarin #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #my fic #death and an angel #soulmate au #Pedro Pascal