#7 interactions from who you harlot

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ghost notifictations...

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Lost and Found: A Pirate's Promise

Chapter 21: Race Against the Ruin

A/N: We are back at it again with another new chapter! This chapter was one of my fav chapters, we get some Sanji POV… and there even a little bet going on in the end.. (hehehe) I have a few ideas what will be done. But thank you guys for reading and following along. Liking, sharing, reblogging, interacting. I am still going back to chapter 18-21 to add the previous links to the other chapters. These next chapters, we hitting Dressrosa! But without further ado, lets get to it! 

Word Count: 5.4K

Sanji x Reader, Sanji x Y/N, One Piece x Reader 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21 (Here)

Y/N POV.. 

The ceiling continued to crumble above us, sending dust and debris raining down as the children clung to me, their tiny faces etched with fear. I could hear their worried whispers and see their anxious eyes searching for comfort.

“The poison gas is also ahead!” one of the G-5 soldiers shouted, his voice tinged with urgency.

Nami stepped forward, her face set in determined resolve. She quickly activated her Clima-Tact, using the Gust Sword technique to create a powerful wind that began to disperse the thick, noxious gas. "Come on, Nami, you can do it!" I encouraged, trying to keep the children calm as they huddled closer to me for security.

The wind howled through the tunnel, pushing the gas away and clearing the path ahead. My heart raced as I watched the swirling gas dissipate, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety as we pressed forward.

Finally, we burst out of the tunnel and into the open air. The sight of the sky and the fresh air was a welcome reprieve from the suffocating atmosphere inside. Everyone erupted into cheers, a collective sigh of relief echoing through the group. 

“So, you finally show up! I was getting tired of waiting!” I exclaimed, spotting Franky among the crowd. Relief washed over me as I saw him unharmed from our last encounter. The little girl, who had been clinging to me, let go, and the children began to cheer with newfound energy.

As I slowly tried to stand up, Law was at my side in an instant, his hand gently pressing against my lower back to steady me. “Come on, Princess,” he said, his voice warm and teasing. “We’ve got to get you some medical attention. You’re not getting out of this one so easily.”

I was about to retort when Law suddenly stepped forward, his hand still protectively against me. “Buffalo and Baby Five?! What are you doing here?” he demanded.

Baby Five, with a concerned look, turned toward Law. “Oh, there you are, Law honey. I’ve been worried sick about you,” she purred, but her gaze shifted as she noticed Law holding me protectively.

“So... this is the harlot that stole you from me!” Baby Five exclaimed, making her way toward us with a dangerous glint in her eye. Just as she was about to make a move, Zoro stepped in, blocking her path with a stern look.

I turned to Law, frustration and exhaustion evident in my voice. “Are there any more women who want to, I don’t know, KILL ME?!”

“Come on, Princess,” Baby Five taunted, still advancing despite the commotion. “Let’s go.”

I grabbed my sword, gritting my teeth against the pain. Just as I was about to make my way down, a sharp pain shot through my right leg, causing me to stagger.

“Y/N!” both Sanji and Law shouted in unison, their concern unmistakable.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Law demanded, his concern for me evident as I struggled to stay on my feet, in dire need of medical attention.

“We?” Baby Five shot back. “What about you? What are you doing helping the Straw Hats and children escape?”

“Let me at her!” I said through gritted teeth, ready to confront Baby Five despite the pain.

“Hold up, Law,” Luffy interjected. “Are they your friends?”

“Negative,” Law said sharply. “They’re my enemies.”

As Baby Five and Buffalo seized Caesar, Usopp took the opportunity to boast, “Looks like this is a sniper’s job to handle.”

Before Law could use his Room, Luffy added, “Hold on, Law. If Usopp says he’s got it, let’s see him do it.”

“First-class sniper, don’t underestimate him,” Zoro chimed in. “Even if his nose is giant.”

“That last part wasn’t necessary!” Usopp protested, though he seemed pleased with the compliment.

“What if he misses?” Law asked, still skeptical.

“Law, listen to me,” I managed to say, struggling to catch my breath. “If we’re in this alliance, you’ve got to trust us. Have a little faith in the crew.”

Just then, Usopp and Nami launched their techniques—Little Bolt and Thunder Brin Tempo—shocking both Baby Five and Buffalo. Usopp followed up with a Special Attack, Meteor Storm Assault, hitting Buffalo with rocks and causing him to fall.

As Caesar tried to escape, Usopp launched the Sea Prism Stone handcuffs, weakening him instantly.

“Way to go, guys!” I cheered, my voice filled with relief and admiration for Usopp and Nami’s success.

“Fine, looks like the initial phase is accomplished,” Law conceded.

Luffy grinned, “See, told you they were strong.”

Just as I was about to get off the cart, the world began to fade to black. The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was Sanji’s desperate call, “Y/N!”

Sanji POV… 

I turned just in time to see Y/N collapse. Panic surged through me as I reached out, catching her before she hit the ground. "Y/N!" I yelled, cradling her limp form. "Hey, stay with me!" I said, desperately tapping her face. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shallow. "Chopper, come quick!" I shouted, but it was Law who arrived first.

"Princess!" Law said urgently, kneeling beside us and attempting to take Y/N from my arms. Her sword slipped from her grip, clattering to the floor. Law’s expression was grave as he assessed her condition. "She looks pale. She's lost a lot of blood!" he exclaimed.

"Chopper, you have her medical records!" Law continued, his voice a mixture of desperation and authority. "We need to perform an emergency blood transfusion fast!"

"Stay with me, Y/N, please!" I said, my voice breaking with emotion.

"Blackleg!" Law said sharply, directing me. "Take her to an area where I can perform the necessary procedures and tend to her wounds."

"I'll take her to the Sunny; Chopper has all the medical equipment there!" I said, my heart pounding as I carried Y/N swiftly towards the ship. "Hold on, Y/N. Don’t die on me," I thought, my mind racing with fear.

When we arrived at the Sunny, Law was already there, poring over Y/N's medical records. "She’s AB Positive," he said, looking up with a mix of urgency and determination. "And based on your crew's blood type, none of you match."

"I happen to be O Negative, so I'll transfer some of my blood to her," Law continued, rolling up his sleeves and preparing for the transfusion. His hands were steady, but his eyes betrayed the concern he felt.

As Law worked swiftly, I stood by, unable to do anything but watch, hoping against hope that Y/N would pull through.

I watched anxiously as Law and Chopper worked over Y/N, my heart pounding with worry. My hands trembled slightly as I gripped Y/N’s hand, trying to stay as steady as possible.

Law’s usual calm demeanor was replaced with an urgent intensity. “Stay with us, Princess,” he said softly, his voice filled with both concern and affection. “Please, stay with me.” His hands were gentle yet determined as he placed a hand on Y/N’s face, brushing a stray lock of hair away. He sat down next to her, holding her hand in his, and placed a tender kiss on her fingers.

I felt a pang of mixed emotions, but there was something undeniably comforting about Law’s presence. His touch was gentle yet firm, conveying a deep concern. I mirrored his actions, leaning in closer and placing my hand on Y/N’s other side. I brushed my lips softly against her forehead. “Hang in there, Y/N,” I whispered, my voice cracking slightly. “We need you. I need you. Please, don’t leave us now.”

An hour passed by, and neither Law nor I had taken our eyes off Y/N. The tension in the room was palpable, our combined worry keeping us glued to her side. Just then, Luffy entered the room, his usual cheerful demeanor slightly subdued by the gravity of the situation.

"Hey Sanji," Luffy said, his voice carrying a note of reassurance. "Don’t worry, Y/N will pull through. She’s a fighter."

“I know she will,” I replied, trying to hold back my tears. My gaze remained fixed on Y/N, hoping for any sign of recovery.

I heard a soft groan and saw Y/N’s eyes flutter open slowly. “Where am I?” she murmured, her voice weak but steady.

“You’re in the Sunny’s medical area,” Law said softly, leaning over to kiss her forehead gently. “You lost a lot of blood, but you’re safe now, Princess. Just take it easy.”

“Y/N,” I said in a whisper, my voice barely above a breath, afraid that any sudden movement might cause her more harm. “We’re right here.”

She managed a small smile, even in her weakened state. “Hey, Sanji, how are you?” she asked, her voice a bit stronger now but still tinged with fatigue.

“Good to see you up and recovering, Y/N,” said Luffy, his smile returning as he approached her bedside. “We’ve been worried sick.”

“Come on, Captain,” Y/N said with a chuckle despite her condition. “You think I’d just give up like that? Hell no.”

Luffy laughed and gave Y/N a gentle hug, his warmth a stark contrast to the clinical atmosphere of the medical bay. “That’s the spirit!” he said, his voice brimming with encouragement.

Law and I exchanged a glance of relief, our shoulders visibly relaxing as we witnessed the first signs of Y/N’s recovery.

Y/N POV.. 

"Beep... Beep... Beep..." The rhythmic sound of the heart monitor was the first thing I noticed as my eyes fluttered open. The brightness of the room made me squint, but I soon focused on Law, who was sitting beside me with an intense yet tender expression.

"Where am I?" I asked weakly, trying to make sense of my surroundings.

"You’re in the Sunny’s medical area," Law said, his voice gentle and reassuring. He held my hand with a careful grip and leaned in to place a soft kiss on my forehead. "You lost quite a bit of blood, but you’re safe now, Princess." He leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to my forehead.

Sanji’s voice cut through, bringing a sense of normalcy. "Y/N," he said quietly, his concern evident. "We’re right here."

I turned my head to him, managing a weak smile despite the pain. I gently squeezed his hand and asked, "Hey, Sanji, how are you?"

Before he could respond, Luffy burst into the room, his cheerful demeanor a stark contrast to the earlier tension. "Good to see you up and recovering, Y/N!" he exclaimed, his grin wide. "We’ve been worried sick."

"Come on, Captain," I said with a chuckle, feeling a little more like myself. "You think I'd just give up like that? Hell no."

Luffy laughed heartily. "That’s the spirit!"

I looked back at Sanji, who was already looking at me with a mix of affection and determination. "Hey Sanji, what’s for food today? I’m actually a little hungry."

Sanji’s face lit up with a smile. "For you, my dear, anything. I’ll whip up the most delicious meal you’ve ever tasted." He leaned in and kissed my forehead with a gentle touch.

"Let’s go, Sanji," Luffy said, practically bouncing with excitement. "I’m starving!"

"You’re always hungry!" I giggled at the sight, feeling the warmth of their presence and the comfort of their playful banter.

Law remained by my side, his gaze softening as he observed the interactions. He continued to hold my hand, his touch reassuring. “I’ll be here with you,” he said softly, his eyes reflecting his genuine concern.

“Law,” I said, trying to sit up despite the lingering fatigue. “We’re still docked on Punk Hazard, right?”

“Yes,” Law confirmed, a trace of relief in his voice.

“Good,” I said, determination seeping into my tone. “Then help me get changed so I can meet my crew. They must be worried sick about me.” I began to rise, but Law’s firm grip on my arm stopped me, his touch both steady and gentle.

I examined myself in the mirror: bandages covered my left arm, chest, and right leg. “At least I know that bird woman won’t be bothering us again,” I said with a small smile. “Law, could you take me to my room, please?” I added with a teasing pout.

Law’s smirk was subtle but unmistakable. “Room,” he said, his voice commanding. In a flash, we were teleported to my room. He carefully set me down as I started to regain my balance.

I checked for my belongings. My jewelry was with me, but my sword was missing. “I must have dropped my sword before I fainted,” I said, examining my reflection. “If anyone touched it, they’d be in for a shock. Literally.”

Law’s gaze lingered on me as he observed my movements with a mixture of admiration and desire. As I adjusted my clothing, I noticed him watching me intently. I decided to turn up the flirtation and teasing a notch.

I reached out and gently toyed with the hem of his shirt, feeling the fabric between my fingers. Law's breath caught, and his eyes followed my touch. He swallowed hard, clearly affected by my proximity.

“Law,” I said, leaning in a little closer, my lips almost brushing his ear. “I do want to thank you for taking such good care of me.”

His eyes fluttered shut briefly, trying to maintain his composure. “You really don’t have to—”

I cut him off by planting a slow, deliberate kiss near his lips, lingering just long enough to feel his pulse quicken. I then pressed a tender kiss to his neck, enjoying the way his body tensed under my touch.

“In fact, Doctor,” I said, drawing out the title playfully, “you’ve done such a marvelous job that I’m tempted to give you a special reward.”

I lightly ran my fingers through the back of his hair, letting them linger just long enough to make him shiver. His gaze locked onto mine, his usual calm demeanor slipping as he struggled to keep his voice steady.

“You’re quite the tease, Princess,” Law said, his voice a low, heated whisper. “Is this how you always thank your saviors?”

I gave him a sultry smile, my fingers tracing along his collarbone. “Maybe. But you’re not just any savior, are you?” I leaned in a little closer, letting my lips hover near his. “You’re the one who made sure I’m still here, and that deserves more than just a casual thank you.”

Law’s expression softened, a smile playing at the corners of his lips despite the intense look in his eyes. “You’re certainly making it difficult to keep my focus,” he said, his voice warm and inviting. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I chuckled softly, enjoying the playful tension between us. “Well, I’m glad to hear that,” I said, my fingers still gently caressing his shirt. “Because I’m definitely not done showing my appreciation.”

Law’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and affection. "Now lets go, I wanna see everyone." I said, laughing.  Law smirked as we teleported down, his "Room" making the transition seamless. As we landed, I immediately heard Smokey’s voice barking orders at his G-5 men.

"Where the hell did you get the idea to waste your time fraternizing with pirates?!" Smokey snapped, glaring at the marines.

"Sir, there's no better way to enforce it than by drawing the line, sir," one of the marines stammered, pointing to the black line they had drawn to separate the sides.

I rolled my eyes, stepping over the line with a smirk. "Now, Smokey, is that any way to treat us?" I teased, making my way past the line. "Hello, boys."

Immediately, the G-5 men began to fawn over me, their flustered reactions almost too easy to predict.

Smokey’s face turned red with frustration. "What did I tell you about her looks, men!" he growled, clearly annoyed.

"Sorry, sir!" they shouted in unison, snapping to attention, but still sneaking glances at me.

I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. "Oh, there’s no need to apologize, boys. It’s all in good fun." I winked at them before turning my attention to Smokey, whose irritation was palpable.

"And you, Smokey," I said, sauntering over to him with a sly grin, "you need to learn to be a little less tight."

His eyes narrowed, but I could tell my words had caught him off guard. Leaning in closer, I whispered in his ear, my voice low and teasing, "Maybe you just need someone who knows how to tame that inner beast of yours."

I let my fingers trail slowly down his chest, watching the way his muscles tensed beneath my touch. His composure faltered, just for a moment, and I smirked to myself, satisfied with the reaction.

Standing back up, I shot him a wink and turned on my heel, leaving him standing there with a bewildered expression. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to find my sword," I called over my shoulder, laughing softly to myself as I walked away. 

As I walked away, I could hear the G-5 men whispering among themselves, trying (and failing) to be discreet.

"Admiral Smokey’s done!" one of them whispered, awe lacing his voice.

"No way!" another gasped.

"Yeah, he’s got blood on his nose!" a third chimed in, his tone a mix of disbelief and admiration.

I couldn't help but chuckle at their reactions, glancing over my shoulder to see Smokey still standing there, stunned, his face flushed. It was clear I’d gotten to him more than he wanted to admit.

Just then, I heard Brook’s voice cut through the chatter, his usual whimsical tone carrying over the scene. “And there, by the way, you mind telling me what you are planning to build here?”

Sanji took a slow drag of his cigarette, flicking the ash with practiced ease. “A fire pit,” he said simply, his eyes still scanning the area, probably already planning out the perfect meal in his head.

Curiosity piqued, I made my way over, a smirk playing on my lips. “Oh, a fire pit? Sounds like fun. So, what does the great chef have on the menu for us today?” I teased, knowing full well that Sanji always had something extraordinary up his sleeve.

Before Sanji could respond, Brook’s joyful voice rang out again, “Yoohoo! Y/N! It’s so lovely to see you full of life and not dead! Although you and I would have lots of fun together if you were!” He let out his trademark laugh, and I couldn’t help but smile as I reached over and hugged him.

“Thanks, Brook,” I said warmly, my arms around his bony frame. “I’m glad to be feeling somewhat better, thanks to that blood transfusion.”

I approached Sanji with a teasing glint in my eye. “So, Sanji, what do you have in store for us today?” I asked, my tone playful. Before he could answer, I added, “Oh, and before I forget, I have one more thing I wanted to give you.”

Stepping closer, I placed my hands gently on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingers. Slowly, deliberately, I leaned in, brushing my lips close to his, letting the kiss linger just long enough to leave an impression. As I pulled away, I noticed the flush creeping across his cheeks, his usually suave demeanor faltering.

With my hands still resting on his chest, I looked up at him, catching his wide-eyed expression. “I wanted to thank you for being there for me during the transfusion,” I said softly, letting my voice drop to a whisper.

Sanji’s breath hitched as I leaned in even closer, my lips brushing against his ear. “For that,” I whispered, “you deserve an extra special reward.”

Before he could respond, I placed a slow, teasing kiss on his neck, feeling his pulse quicken under my touch. Sanji’s cigarette almost slipped from his fingers as his usual charm gave way to a flustered silence.

He finally managed to stammer, “Y-Y/N, I—”

I grinned, stepping back slightly, giving him a playful look. “What’s the matter, Sanji? Cat got your tongue?” I teased, watching as his hand reflexively moved to his neck, still feeling the warmth of my kiss.

Sanji, recovering slightly, tried to maintain his composure, but the blush on his face betrayed him. “I—I'll have to make the most incredible meal now, just to match that,” he said, his voice shakier than usual, though he attempted to regain his confident tone.

Before I could respond, Brook chimed in with his usual dramatic flair.

"Ohh, Kin'emon, I wish there was something we could do," Brook sighed, shaking his head. His skeletal face, while expressionless, somehow managed to convey a deep sorrow.

I made my way over to Brook, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Brook. Law and Chopper might have something for him. We’ll figure it out.”

Brook, ever the emotional one, cried out, “It’s unbearable to see you like this, Kin’emon! I have to avert my eyes—even though I don’t have any! Yohohoho!”

I giggled at his antics and gave him a light pat on the back. “Well, I’m off to find my sword. I’ll see you all in a bit.” With that, I made my way to the cart, where I finally spotted my sword. “Bingo! Gotcha!” I said triumphantly, pulling it free. “You’re going back to the hilt.”

As I secured the sword, I suddenly heard Chopper's panicked cries. "Chopper, what's wrong?" I called out as he ran into me, his eyes wide with fear.

"You’ve gotta stop him!" Chopper wailed, tears streaming down his face.

“Stop what, Chopper? What’s going on?” I asked, my heart rate quickening at the sight of his distress.

“Law! He’s…he’s committing murder!” Chopper sobbed.

“Law? Are you sure?” I asked, my eyes narrowing in confusion. Chopper rarely panicked like this unless something serious was happening.

“Yes! I’m sure, Y/N! Please, you have to stop him!” Chopper cried, clinging to me.

“There, there, Chopper. Don’t worry, I’ll stop him,” I said, holding him close to calm him down.

Just then, Brook started freaking out, looking down at Kin’emon’s body. “Y/N, I’ve done something terrible! I smashed Kin’emon! He’s dead…although he’s already dead! Fix him!” Brook wailed, flailing his skeletal arms dramatically.

“Brook, what did you do?!” I exclaimed, still holding a tearful Chopper.

“He’s dead, I broke him!” Brook continued, “Although he’s already dead, but now he’s even more dead!”

Sanji, overhearing the chaos, facepalmed. "What if we glue him back together?" Luffy suggested, as usual, completely missing the point.

“Guys, that’s not how this works!” I said, feeling the tension in the air. Just then, Kin’emon's body suddenly stirred, and his torso sat up, yelling, "Momonosuke!"

“AH!” I screamed, jumping back in surprise. Before I could react, Sanji, on pure reflex, kicked Kin’emon's torso, sending him flying a few feet away.

“Why are you attacking him?!” Brook exclaimed, panicking all over again.

“It was a reflex!” Sanji defended himself, waving his hands in the air as if to ward off further blame.

"Father?" came a small voice, and we all turned to see Momonosuke, no longer in his dragon form, standing there in disbelief.

Kin’emon, now reunited with his son, sat up shakily, and reached out. "Momonosuke, my son..."

The touching father-son moment filled the air with warmth, and even amidst the chaos, it was a reunion we had all been hoping for. Luffy grinned, arms crossed, “See, told you he wasn’t dead dead!”

Sanji rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, glancing at me with a sheepish grin. "Guess things worked out... somehow."

I shook my head, still holding Chopper, and smiled. "Well, I’m glad Kin’emon’s okay. But next time, Sanji… maybe no more reflex kicks, okay?"

Sanji chuckled, giving me a quick wink. "I'll do my best, for you, Princess."

Sanji’s chuckle faded into the background as Chopper’s trembling voice reached me. He was clearly upset, confronting Law with a level of intensity that wasn’t common for the normally gentle reindeer.

“How could you do that to those poor kids?!” Chopper cried, his voice trembling as he faced Law. “You sliced them up!”

“Law,” I said cautiously, stepping closer, my brow furrowing, “what is Chopper talking about?”

Law turned to me, his expression calm but guarded. “There’s a reason I told you not to look,” he said, his voice steady but firm. “You wouldn’t understand why I had to do it.”

Chopper, tears welling up in his eyes, let out a shaky sob before running inside, unable to handle the situation anymore. I watched him go, feeling a pang of guilt in my chest. “Really, Law? You’re scaring the poor guy,” I said softly, turning back to him.

Law crossed his arms, his usual composed demeanor intact, though there was a subtle tension in his jaw. “It was the fastest way to remove the drugs from their system,” he explained, his voice low but unwavering.

I bit my lip, the weight of his words sinking in. I knew Law’s methods were sometimes harsh, but they were always calculated. “I know you had a reason, but… slicing them up like that? You have to see how it would look to someone like Chopper,” I said, meeting his gaze, searching for a flicker of emotion.

Law sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away for a moment. “I know how it looks. But those kids—what Caesar did to them—there wasn’t time to do things gently. The drugs in their system were too strong. Cutting them open and removing the drugs directly was the only way to save them.”

His explanation made sense, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. I stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm, the tension between us palpable. “I get that you're trying to save them, Law, and I trust you. But maybe next time, you could explain it to Chopper first. He’s sensitive, and seeing that without knowing the reason… it shook him up.” 

I sidled up to Law, my fingers gently trailing across his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. "You know," I started, my voice dripping with mischief, "you could’ve warned me about all that slicing and dicing back there. Gave me quite the scare."

Law raised an eyebrow, glancing at me with that familiar unreadable look. "I told you, it was the fastest way to remove the poison," he replied calmly, though I could see the flicker of something in his eyes, something that told me he knew exactly what I was doing.

I stepped even closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him. "Hmm, fast, efficient... typical you, Doctor," I teased, letting my fingers graze the hem of his shirt. "But I wonder... what happens when you're not in such a rush? Do you still take things apart so quickly?"

Law’s eyes narrowed slightly, but I could see the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "I don’t rush unless necessary," he murmured, his voice low, the challenge clear in his tone. "I prefer precision over speed."

I laughed softly, leaning in closer, so close that my lips were barely an inch from his neck. "Precision, huh? I like that," I whispered, my breath hot against his skin. "I bet you're very… thorough."

His composure faltered, just for a second, as I planted a slow, deliberate kiss on his neck, right beneath his ear. I could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed beneath my touch, but he didn’t pull away. Not yet.

"Careful, Y/N," he warned, though his voice was slightly breathless now, betraying the control he was trying so hard to maintain. "You're playing a dangerous game."

I smirked against his skin, letting my hand drift up to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. "Oh, I’m counting on it," I whispered, placing another kiss, this time just a little closer to his jaw. "But I think you like this game just as much as I do."

"Y/N..." His voice held a warning, but it was laced with something else

Just then, Chopper’s voice cut through the moment. "Y/N! Traffy didn’t hurt the kids!"

I pulled away, turning toward Chopper. "Oh? So what did they say?"

"They said some guy with a big hat did a cool trick and helped them!" Chopper exclaimed, his eyes wide with excitement.

I glanced back at Law, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. "A big hat, huh?" I teased, crossing my arms as I leaned against the wall. "Looks like you have a habit of playing the hero after all. So much for being cold and ruthless."

Law’s smirk returned, though his eyes held that familiar glint of challenge. "Don’t get used to it," he muttered.

"I’m starting to think you like proving me wrong," I shot back with a wink before turning away. "But don’t worry, I’ll leave you to your secrets for now."

As I made my way toward Sanji, the warmth of the firepit came into view, and I could smell the delicious food he was preparing. "Sanji!" I called out, drawing his attention. "What do you have cooking for us?"

Sanji’s face lit up, and he gave a playful bow. "Ah, my dear, for you, I’ve prepared something extra special. Only the finest for a lady like you."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You always know how to spoil me." But as I sat down by the fire, I couldn’t help but glance back at Law, knowing that this little game between us was far from over.

"Alright, guys, listen up!" Luffy's voice cut through the noise as he raised his mug high. "We got trouble heading our way, so let’s party fast and hard! Dig in and get down!"

Everyone roared with excitement, clinking drinks and diving into the food. I spotted Zoro sitting nearby, about to take a hefty swig of his beer. Grinning, I quickly snatched it from his grasp. "I’ll take that!"

Zoro’s eyes widened in surprise before narrowing at me, his lips curling into a playful smirk. "Hey!" he protested, reaching for it as I took a long sip. "This stuff’s too good for you to steal, you know."

I grinned, handing it back after taking my fill. "Too bad. It tastes even better when it’s yours."

Zoro raised an eyebrow as someone handed him another beer. "You sure you want to challenge me to a drink-off?" he asked, his voice low with amusement. "You’re still recovering. You might wanna rethink that."

I leaned closer, matching his smirk. "Listen, Roronoa, I survived a life-or-death situation, outsmarted a crazy scientist with poison gas, and had to deal with a jealous bird woman. I think I deserve a few drinks."

Zoro chuckled, tipping his head back as he took a long gulp from his beer. "Alright, if you're that confident." He lowered the mug, eyes gleaming with mischief. "But I’m warning you, don’t complain when you can’t keep up."

Sanji, nearby, overheard us and rolled his eyes. "Typical mosshead. She just got out of a near-death situation, and you're making her drink? You really are brainless."

I laughed and waved Sanji off. "Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Besides, I’ve got two doctors on standby just in case things go south."

Zoro scoffed, clearly ignoring Sanji’s remarks as he raised his mug to me. "Alright, then. But if I win, you owe me one."

I grinned, raising my own drink in response. "And if I win, you owe me a favor. Deal?"

Zoro’s smirk grew wider as we clinked our mugs. "Deal. Don’t expect me to go easy on you."

We both took a long drink, eyes locked in playful challenge. "May the best swordsman win," I teased, setting my empty mug down.

Zoro wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, clearly impressed. "Not bad. But this is just the beginning."

From the side, Chopper looked between us nervously, while Law watched with mild interest, arms crossed. "Y/N, just... don’t overdo it," Chopper said hesitantly, worried.

Sanji sighed dramatically. "If you pass out mosshead, I’m not responsible for carrying you."

I laughed, turning to Zoro with a grin. "Looks like the stakes just got higher."

Zoro chuckled, lifting his mug. "Let’s see if you can handle the next round."

.

.

[tavyliasin]

ATG 7 - Love? Lust.

In which the devil gets his due...

Pairing: Raphael/Haarlep  SPICE Rating: 4.5/5 I pulled it from my soul somehow (side note I should review this rating considering my later works, this was at the time of writing) Content Warnings:  Sex, rough sex, BDSM, Bondage, Anger, power play, mild choking,

Spoilers Act 3, House of Hope area and character appearance of Haarlep Canon Compliance Canon Level "Hahaha! NO." (Please read that as Haarlep in that scene.) - The only canon is in the backstory of Raphael and Haarlep's relationship and their dynamics. It is chaotic to me how we don't see them share the screen but I can feel their whole hate/lust dynamic.  Other Notes (From the original time of posting) Sometimes you just want an indulgent chapter to take off the brakes and let it roll right into the chaos because 2 fiends keep staring at you from the dark corner of your brain waiting to get laid while Tav indulges in the nice soft chapters. This one is dedicated to everyone else who went utterly hingeless when they met Haarlep, they are my favourite bitch and I love them forever. This is also a contrast to the previous chapter where our 2 mains choose love over lust together, there's absolutely no love here. That's not how these two like to play. And that's fine, it works for them like this.  ADDITIONAL NOTE - This was the first piece I wrote for Raphael and Haarlep, that solidified the brainrot for both. I found writing their interactions positively intoxicating and have not wanted to stop since. Song/Mood Phantom by NateWantsToBattle "Make no mistake, I'll break you down (Whoa-oh-oh, whoa-oh-oh) Shout it around town I'm not what you want But I'm exactly what you need Take a bite and feed Your satisfaction guaranteed. I'm your sunshine, whoa I'm gonna burn down your parade I'm a shooting star That wish you wished you never made"

----- FULL CHAPTER BELOW THE CUT -----

Another impossible slam of an ethereal portal almost startled the demon reclining on silk sheets. They smirked. This was going to be an amusing evening.

The slammer of the door, however, had no such look on his face. His brows were lowered, that little vein on his forehead almost visibly throbbing beneath his skin, the physical heat of his rage warming the room by several degrees. An impressive feat given the mansion was in Avernus, one of the literal Nine Hells, with a…well, perhaps not beautiful but at least in some ways breathtaking view of fields of lava from the open balcony door.

With a gesture, Raphael dismissed the portal fully, the shimmering mist dissolving into nothing. He gazed at his likeness, looking at him over the top of a wine glass. No, not looking. Haarlep was judging him again.

"I'm in no mood for your insolence, Harlot ." He spat the insult from tight lips, yet still approached the bed and sat beside his devilish double. Even whilst still in his human form, the resemblance was remarkable, and if Raphael decided to transform into his true fiendish body then it would be almost like looking in a mirror. Almost . Somehow Haarlep made his own form just a little more alluring, a little too perfect, perhaps. He had no doubt this was all a part of the game the incubus liked to play, so he pictured the board and moved his pawns like always.

"I thought you'd be happy!" Haarlep laughed, offering a fresh glass to their cambion companion as they echoed his own voice. "Didn't you get exactly what you wanted?"

"Yes. No. Fuck you. "

"Hah! Now that's a good one." The incubus shifted their physical body to the form of the Archduchess, a twisted feminine version of Raphael, to give him an extra sultry gaze. "Fuck me yourself, if you dare."

"Insolent little… How easily you forget that I outrank you." Raphael took the wine and drained it in one gulp, throwing the empty vessel unceremoniously across the room.

"Temper, temper~" Haarlep purred, shifting their body back to the masculine form and leaning over Raphael. To make a point, he assumed. "You might outrank me out there , but that's not how things work in here and you know that." They pressed a clawed hand against Raphael's human chest, their weight bearing down for a moment with intense strength, before releasing the grip and drifting their hand to his chin instead. "Now, how about you tell me what happened, hmm? I've been dying to hear how it went."

"As if you weren't scrying the entire time." The human formed devil muttered darkly, shifting slightly where he lay, feeling uncomfortably warmer from being so close to his partner. "But if you must hear a bedtime story then so be it. She took the bait, almost too easily, and I gave them what they wanted."

"Naturally, you give them a taste," Haarlep punctuated the pause in their words with a tongue running up Raphael's ear before whispering the rest, "so now they'll crave more."

The demon ached as the incubus pulled away again, plucking a grape from the bunch and devouring it. Oh to be that grape- "Yes yes all according to plan. Whet their appetite, give them reason to trust, and reel them in with something much bigger."

"You're certain they can get what you want?" Haarlep raised an eyebrow, genuinely unsure this time. Something that didn't happen often with the cocky bastard.

"If they make it out of Moonrise and past Ketheric in one piece, then yes."

"And if they don't?" The incubus ran a clawed finger up the inside of his leg this time, trying to steal his ability to speak with the building desire, the achingly slow tease of everything they did. 

Fuck, even their slutty harness is too- He stopped the thought, realising the pause was giving his lover everything they wanted. Too easily. "If they don't then Korilla owes me 5 soul coins, so either way I win."

"Should I be praising how astute your gamble is?" Haarlep's tone grew more mocking.

"Should I be praising how lustful you are? I know I have them right where I want them." He growled.

Haarlep began to loosen his fine silk clothes, nimble fingers finding ways to tease even with this. "And yet here you are, absolutely furious. Why? Do you think the Little Mouse might bite?"

Raphael clenched his fists in an involuntary display of rage. "If she does," he hissed through gritted teeth, "she will meet her end at my claws."

"Ahh there it is. Finally. You want to have your cake and eat it too."

"She's almost as infuriating as you are."

"My, my, Archduke , do you finally have eyes for someone besides yourself?" Haarlep was sounding more amused by the second, clearly enjoying seeing the fiend so riled up.

"Obviously not," he lied, "I'd like to take her down a peg. Maybe three, come to think of it."

"Well you can't risk damaging your toy before you have what you want, can you~" Haarlep purred, discarding the ruffled shirts that had now been removed. "Oh, your real form, if you please."

Doing as he was bidden automatically, Raphael's body almost instantly shifted to his demonic form, horns rising in twisted shapes above fiery crimson skin, and his still neat and chestnut brown hair barely changing. "Of course I can't break her , but there has to be some way- You've heard how she speaks to me, haven't you? I know too well you sit there scrying like I'm putting on a play for your amusement."

"Well of course, I am your biggest fan ," Haarlep sneered, the subtle insult not unnoticed yet remaining unchallenged as the power balance continued to shift in their favour. It always did. "Perhaps you should try another co-star on your stage. I can't say I'm not curious either, it is so entertaining watching her sharp tongue match wits with yours."

"Careful, Harlot , you are here by my grace alone , remember?"

"Hah! Grace? That's what you call it? No." Haarlep snatched up his throat in their claws, almost cutting into the flesh with the pressure, eyes alight with more than the usual fire. "And you will call me by my name, now, Archduke ."

The title was a snub, and Raphael knew it, but the incubus had a hold on him in more ways than one. "Fine, Haarlep ," he gasped, the pressure finally relieving just slightly. "There's barely any difference anyway." He averted his eyes just for a moment. Wrong move.

"You will look at me when addressing me," their hand was now gripping Raphael's chin savagely, "and I am not beyond silencing that rude little tongue of yours either."

Barely a moment after letting go of his face, Haarlep had straddled the devil's chest, pressing his heated and leather bound underwear to the lips of his furious lover. The game had truly begun now.

Raphael's teeth sunk into the leather, piercing it just enough to elicit a wanton howl from Haarlep who grabbed the back of his head and pulled him away. "Only bite if you're prepared to be bitten."

The challenge stood heavy and pointed, as they released Raphael once more, one of their hands slipping behind them to start loosening his trousers. Their tail was already curling around his ankle, a further dare to drive him damn near insane. Without words, he pulled aside the lower parts of the leather harness, - hands gripping them slightly too perfect thighs - and pulling Haarlep into his mouth.

The incubus moaned, the usual performance, but oh how they did enjoy it more when they got what they wanted. Raphael could be so plain unless they really riled him up. Anger and lust, it seemed, were excellent bedfellows. Like pleasure and pain, they mused as teeth raked along their length eliciting another wanton moan, the perfect balanced meal.

Raphael had no intention of giving in to everything his reflection desired, but he couldn't deny how good it felt. The incubus had connected them by taking his form, a hellish contract binding them, so he could feel everything. Not only could he feel his own throat beginning to burn as Haarlep's hips pressed agonisingly forwards, he could feel the sensation of lips around himself. 

This was the caveat of the deal, naturally. Giving release to the incubus would also give him his own, but that meant the bastard would win, again , and that simply could not stand. Just as he felt the pressure begin to rise, he dug his teeth and claws in just enough to bring it back. 

"Oh so you want to play it that way, do you?" Haarlep hissed, dragging Raphael's head back and pressing his head firmly to the pillow. "Ironic, isn't it, that you insist on such plush silk comforts when what you really want-" the incubus raised their hand in the air, a thin whip-like vine appearing in their grip, "is far from comfort at all." 

The whip cracked in the air, thin red lightning dancing along the length, as Haarlep rose from above Raphael, already preparing the next spell. Thicker vines now curled up from beneath the bed. Before they found their mark, however, Haarlep unceremoniously flipped Raphael over with a deft movement, pressing his face into the pillow now as the vines wrapped and secured wrists and ankles.

The demon lay face down on his own bed, by all appearances utterly helpless, his legs spread apart and his arms crossed and bound behind his back. His wings were held apart to reveal parts of his bare back, bound very precisely to keep them where they were out of the way of the incubus' designs. Only his cambion tail remained free, until, of course, Haarlep grabbed hold of it and pulled.

"You look so much better like this, Archduke ," they laughed, bringing the whip down between his shoulder blades with practiced ease. Raphael moaned into the pillow, unable to form words to respond. "And you sound better, too."

Each sting of electric pain was not enough to do harm, no it would take far more than this to actually wound a Cambion of his rank, but still Raphael felt the exquisite agony. They had danced this dance for countless centuries, but even from the beginning the incubus knew exactly how to work his body. Of course they would , he thought between muffled groans as the whip struck true across his body whilst a clawed hand reached down between his legs, they're a fucking pleasure fiend. 

Haarlep grinned wickedly. This was a perfect evening, watching the powerful Raphael melt into silk sheets, building up the pleasure then leaving him wanting and squirming beneath them. They felt it all, and they felt so much more. Each little wanton whimper was like another plate at a buffet, a banquet of delicacies that they were cooking for themselves. A greedy chef, perhaps, but they had to feed. Might as well season it perfectly, they mused to themselves, licking their fingers in anticipation.

Some days Raphael wondered how the bed beneath him did not burst into flame, either with the anger or the lust. This was certainly one of those days. He was white hot, tense, when the incubus' finger entered. He damn near moaned the bitch's name in that instant, but he held on stubbornly forbidding them from taking everything quite so easily. Futile, in the end, but his pride kept the fight going.

Accepting the unspoken challenge, Haarlep cast the whip aside, plunging a second finger inside their partner and pulling hard on his tail, relishing the deepened groan it drew forth. "You will be calling my name soon enough, Archduke , but you can keep fighting if you must." 

Their fingers curled, finding their mark, removing his breath and turning his mind almost empty as he pressed against the sheets, writhing for any moment of friction, desperate for more. Fuck , was about the only thought that found purchase in his brain. 

Haarlep continued the torment, switching between pulling, biting, and occasionally kissing the Cambion's tail - though there was not a hint of affection from the touch of their lips - and raking their claws along his spine, gripping the back of his neck, and pulling at that oh so neat hair. Yes, they thought delightedly, this is the best view of him, wanton, struggling, desperately full of desire. They drank in the heat, prolonging every moment to savour the meal spread before them. Literally, spread, they grinned to themselves, whatever would the little mouse think to see the mighty predator brought to ruin.

Just as Raphael was at the edge of that daunting yet exhilarating cliff, the incubus pulled back once more, leaving him infuriatingly empty. "No." He hissed into the pillow, barely audible. "No stopping."

"My my, it seems someone has forgotten who is in charge again." The vines holding the cambion pulled wickedly, snaking now around his hips and forcing them up until he was on his knees. Haarlep had moved behind him now, leaning down over him until their chest pressed against his arms, voice hot near his ear. "You will call my name. You will beg before we are through." 

There was nothing gentle nor loving about the embrace of two fiends in the heat of pure lust. There never would be, never could be, it simply wasn't in their nature to do anything but this. The battle, the fight, wits and bodies pitted against each other in an endless back and forth until something broke.

Raphael's mind nearly did as the demon behind him thrust inside, chuckling darkly at the gasp that escaped before he could stop it. 

"Good," the incubus growled, biting down on the back of his neck before continuing, "feel it, all of it. Feel you , just like you wanted."

Savage teeth bore down on hot skin again, Haarlep's muscular chest crushing Raphael's wings and arms against his back. But fuck did it feel good. He bit down on the pillow himself, almost feeling it like it was his own neck in his mouth. Exactly what they intended , he might have thought, had a hand not found purchase between his legs. A savage grip began to work him harder now, timed perfectly to the brutal thrust of hips, the sound of skin on skin filling his ears as every muscle began to tense from the sheer overwhelming sensations. Fucking, being fucked, skilled fingers finding every extra nerve as lips and tongue and teeth caressed tender flesh. 

"Please, Haarlep- " the words left Raphael's lips unbidden and with infuriating ease. Just as promised he had been drawn to this, begging, writhing, desperately on the edge.

"I told you so." The echo of his own voice dark in his ear was swiftly followed by a harmony of exquisite moans as the final thrusts drove both of them into a mindsplitting climax. 

All control had been ceded, the incubus had snatched yet another victory from the pride of the so-called Master of the House , the satisfaction as overwhelming as the frustration was to be left both filled and entirely empty as the vines began to recede. 

"Now, doesn't that feel better? You played so well, I do hope you go and visit your Little Mouse again soon. Perhaps I should send her some flowers? A fruit basket?" Haarlep laughed, already strolling towards the huge open pool of a bath on the other side of the room.

"You are truly insufferable." Raphael resisted the urge to add the insulting nickname as he rubbed feeling back into aching limbs, working up the strength to use his legs again. "But I will have her, one way or another."

"Will you now?" The incubus called back, sinking into the luxurious waters scented with cinnamon and cherries. A little hint of the aromas that mingled from each when they were close. "I do hope you at least let me watch ."

Raphael tested his weight on his legs, before resigning himself to sit a little longer. "I have half a mind to hand her over to you, just to teach her a lesson."

"Hah! What's this now? Don't think you can handle a scary little mouse?" Haarlep's musical laugh echoed around the room, ever more infuriating.

"No, she's just not worth my effort."

"I suppose we shall see, then. If they ever make it to the city, of course." 

"I have a feeling they will…" Raphael's mind was beginning to wander again, half tempted to scry himself to keep an eye on that improbable group of misfits.

"Won't that mean you lose your money to the little bitch you have watching them?"

"It won't matter," Raphael replied, one clawed hand rubbing his aching neck, "the prize they can bring me will be worth far more than a handful of damned souls."

----------- ----------- ENDING NOTES ----------- -----------

From the original work: ---

I'll note here that usually in BDSM you would have aftercare following something intense, but the amount of time these 2 have been together and with their whole dynamic it feels like Raphael would find the idea insulting. However, when he eventually is able to walk straight, or perhaps fly across to the healing pool, Haarlep is ready and waiting to shampoo his hair and soothe any lingering aches and wounds.

Haarlep is a responsible Dom, is what I'm saying, Raph is just a brat sub-leaning switch vers to his core so he's not going to enjoy much softness unless it is very specifically on his terms.

I'm dying to write more of these 2 as well, and don't worry Tav will get her turn to truly dance with these devils. Oh the ideas I have, darlings, would make more than a blacksmith blush. Whether I find that power within my dark soul to put them to words remains to be seen, of course...we shall try. For you, loves. --- And I did exactly that! I do so love looking back on these notes from a mere few months past, where I was still stumbling through the new wilderness before finding I was always meant to be here~ Now, the new notes? I still adore this chapter, it's the perfect mirror opposite of the last one where Astarion and Tav explore the importance of Love while leaving Lust aside. Raphael and Haarlep have no need for Love when hedonistic Lust satisfies both of their needs. Which is not to say they shun all emotion, far from it, they just have a very different attitude to sex and relationships. It's a different world for fiends who live thousands of years~

Oh, and as a special treat...some LiArt~

Until next chapter - oh, and the next chapter for those who haven't read before on AO3? That's the Tav x Emperor chapter~

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

I'm thinking about the week after my high school graduation. My Christian School was run by a Baptist Church I was a member of and I was in the process of leaving.

I had recently suffered a terrible experience 3 days before the end of school where I was accused of something I didn't do alongside a classmate, threatened with expulsion, and lost my job as church pianist. I got in trouble that only 3 ppl knew about, but that night at prayer meeting, everyone seemed to know I(17 girl) and Sam(19 boy) got in trouble together and ppl assumed we had premarital sex. And my mom raised all hell between school and church, so the pastor/principal called me up to the front after service to talk to me and finally got my side of the story after punishing me severely and NOT asking for my side 8 hours earlier. I wasn't given my job back. Got no apology. And none of them made an effort to fix my reputation that only the pastor, his secretary, or his deacon, could have blabbed about to make me sound like a harlot. And after months of their behavior towards minorities of all sorts making me feel more and more awkward and terrible inside, I decided I would begin the process of leaving. I phased out of that place like a whisper and don't interact with any of them. It's been a decade.

So on this Sunday afternoon prior to evening service, I was sitting in Fellowship Hall with my former HS teacher. She was doing something that involved counting and all I remember was offering to help count despite dreading it(she'd done a lot for me so helping was the least I could do), and then the following incident ruining my numbers and me having to restart.

The secretary, the one who participated in gossiping and slandering me just a week prior, comes up with a clipboard to tell me, "You still owe $400 in tuition, so you'll have to come every Friday for candy-selling until it's paid off."

And I've always hated her ass cuz she has a chip on her shoulder. My mom expressly ordered me to not interact with her as much as I could while still under 18. She is literally annoying af.

The haughty look on her face and the fact that she lied through her teeth in front of my fav teacher... No. I don't have to worry about my behavior at church getting me punished at school anymore. yeah, that was a thing. The rules were BS. Here's a [POST] about my school's student handbook.

"No, I don't," I told her. "Pastor himself, told me in front of many witnesses, including Mrs. Slebodnik here, that I paid it all off and can begin saving for Christian college. He's been collecting that saved up money for me since March, so if you really think I owe hundreds, he has enough in an envelope, and you can just take that."

And she was so blindsided by this because she had a habit of going up to students at random times in the year and telling them they owed [certain number] and had to pay up. Tuition was $125 a month. I was being forced to pay it off since my sperm donor enrolled me and then never paid up.

So I had a $1,250 debt from 8th Gr and that tacked onto when I started candy-selling in the first week of 9th. I was allowed to take about $60 of the overall profit every week through candy-selling and that's $240 monthly for 10 months. So I should have been catching up. And by 12th Gr, I was making about $90 a week as I gained loyal customers who would only buy from me personally. So every month in Senior Year I was getting around $360 from selling candy on Friday alone.

I was doing extra candy-selling on Tuesdays to pay my way through our senior trip to the Bahamas. Since I had to split half of whatever I got with the school, I had to make at least $100 each Tuesday to get at least $50 put away cuz the travel expenses to and back cost more than the cruise itself did. I had 7 months to do this because Pastor couldn't make up his mind what was going to happen. It was hell. I cried a lot. I was the only poor student. Everyone else was selling extra candy for college and I was selling extra so I could at least go on a field trip with my friends for a week. Their parents afforded shelling out $1K+ just fine... and no one wanted to help me. I hated it.

So with this secretary, we came to the assumption that she was pocketing money. I gave you the numbers. A bit of minor math should point out how I was making enough to catch up. If all of 8th Gr cost $1,250 and I make $2400 in 9th Gr, then I paid off 8th Gr and that remaining $1,150 would go toward 9th Gr's debt. Which leaves $100 still owed. So how is it, on New Years Day in 10th Grade(where my monthly earnings from candy-selling had increased even further btw) that was I informed that I was $2K+ in debt?

NYD was Jan 1st. School had been going on for 4 months at that point. $100 from 9th Gr added to the 4 months is $600 even. I was making over $60 a week which is $960 personally earned in those 4 months. So even if you added January's tuition bill to that $600, it would only = $725. So I should have been ahead of the curve. Why was I not?

My mom raised a fuss about those numbers, pointing out with her own math how that wasn't right.

And Ms. Secretary tried that 'you owe money' line with my friend Kali who was super rich and who had Church Leaders for parents and who paid for her tuition, so she didn't have to go candy-selling ever. And her mother did not take that shit lying down.

So I'm just saying... she seems like she pocketed the money.

Anyway, Mrs. Slebodnik went to the Pastor's wife to complain about Ms. Secretary's behavior and since her husband was the oldest serving Deacon of the church, and they made a massive annual donation to the Needy Saints Offering, they couldn't afford to ignore her whenever she had something to say.

I left about a month later.

So yeah, this came to mind and as I'm bitter and love to hate those that deserve it, I had to get this off my chest.

[domesticrage]

GETTING TO KNOW DELILAH ROYSTON.

BASICS. Full Name: Delilah Royston Nicknames: Lilah, Delia, Dahlia ( by a great aunt who refuses to say her name correctly and insists that Delilah is a name for a harlot, not a young woman ) Skeleton: The Governess Titles: Miss Delilah Royston Cast Position: Royalty | Nobility | Gentry Birthdate: July 18th, 1770 ( she’ll be thirty by the end of this season, the absolute horror ) Birthplace: Dorsetshire, England

PHYSICALITY. Height: 5′7″ Body Type: Delilah is very tall and very lithe, with a very small waist but very little curves to speak of. She’s basically all legs with only the barest suggestion of an hourglass silhouette.   Hair: Long, blonde, and straight. Holds a curl well enough but not nearly as nicely as she’d wish. Eyes: Brown / Green / Blue / Gray / Other | Glasses / Skin: Her skin is a warm peachy tone that tans with relative ease, which she used to attempt to avoid at all costs but now no longer cares too much. Markings: Delilah has a smattering of freckles across her chest and a small birthmark on her left hip that looks vaguely like a continent if you tilt your head and squint. Walking: She walks briskly. Delilah learned from an early age that if you walk everywhere as if you have purpose, people are far less likely to bother you, and with her long legs, she’s quite speedy. Speech: Having spent most of her adult life in London, Delilah has a very educated manner of speech that would not be out of place at Oxford; however, when she gets angry, drunk, or emotional, she starts to speak very quickly, which is when her native west country accent comes out. (Think Demelza in Poldark; lots of dropped t’s and long a’s.) Notably, her voice drops about half an octave in her native accent. Posture/Bearing: Delilah’s posture is horrible when she sits, due to many years as a governess teaching children much smaller than her how to read and write and do their sums. She stands up straight alright in public but it’s definitely something she has to consciously remember to do.

PERSONALITY. Presentation: Delilah comes off as a very educated, sharp, witty woman. She’s quick, very smart, and charming, but there’s something a little empty about that charm. There’s very little actual warmth to her, unless she truly loves you, in which case she’s probably already pushing you away and disappearing from your life until she manages to wrangle her emotions under control. Interactions: She is very comfortable with all social interactions until about the three hour mark, and then she starts to get very itchy and need to get a breath of fresh air and silence for a few minutes. She manages to avoid this with her charges, but only because they don’t require 100% of her attention at all times. Lures: Excess. The theater. Large, grand parties. Champagne. A good game of cards. Exciting conversation. Temperament: Charming and witty but quick to anger; but it’s a cold anger, more of a snap than a bluster. Reputation: Honestly Delilah’s probably viewed as a bit of a spinster and very flighty, unwilling to settle down with anyone. Every time she gets close to someone, especially suitors, she withdraws.

HABITS. Favorite Hours: Night owl for sure. Given that her mornings and her days are so often spent with her cousin’s children, night hours are her free time and entirely her own. Punctuality: She is very punctual! ( She might be a little hungover first thing in the morning, but she’s still going to be there a few minutes early. ) Nervous Ticks: Delilah has the most horrible nervous habit of biting her nails, and the only thing that stops her from doing that is if she’s wearing gloves. She tries to wear gloves as often as possible when out in society. Sleeping Style: She sleeps curled up in the fetal position with her fists and her jaw clenched. Pillows usually end up on the floor.

EDUCATION. School: Delilah was a very good student and has always excelled in all of her classes. She takes to memorization like a fish to water and has a genuine passion for learning new things. Delilah’s always been of the opinion that learning shouldn’t stop when one leaves school. Known Languages: In addition to being a good student in general, Delilah has a knack for languages and can pick them up ( even if only a few handfuls of words ) very easily with a bit of practice. She speaks conversational French and Spanish, knows a great deal of Latin and Ancient Greek, and is currently working on strengthening her ( admittedly rudimentary ) German vocabulary. Talents: She has a musical ear and can carry a tune quite beautifully, can play the pianoforte more than passably well. She’s also wickedly good with playing cards.   Learning Style: Auditory/Verbal.

PHILOSOPHY. Religion: Delilah is not very pious, but she does attend church most Sundays with her cousin and his family to ensure she keeps up appearances. Superstitions: She is deeply superstitious and always throws salt over her left shoulder when she spills it or when something goes wrong in the kitchen. She knocks on wood to banish bad luck, will bury broken mirror shards under the light of the moon to avoid seven years of ill luck, and always covers her mirrors with cloth before leaving the house. She also avoids breathing on mirrors when looking into them, keeps a penny in one shoe, and always blesses someone when they sneeze. Virtues: Diligence. Vices: Lust, Greed, Wrath, Pride.

RELATIONSHIPS. Family: Agnes Royston ( mother ), Walter Royston ( father, deceased ), Charles Royce ( second cousin, three times removed, current employer ) , Dorothea Royce ( Charles’ wife ), Adam Royce ( second cousin, four times removed, Charles and Dorothea’s only son and one of Delilah’s charges ) , Emma Royce ( second cousin, four times removed, Charles and Dorothea’s oldest daughter and one of Delilah’s charges ) , Joan Royce ( second cousin, four times removed, Charles and Dorothea’s youngest daughter and one of Delilah’s charges ). Friendships: She has very few people that she is fond of, and even less of whom she thinks well. Friends in Need: She’s the kind of friend who would literally rather jump out of a window than talk about feelings with you, but if she really loves you, she’ll awkwardly pat your back and listen. Reluctantly. Needing a Friend: Delilah does not have the current emotional vocabulary to ask anyone for help in any manner. Discord: I’m not saying she’d throw a punch but I’m not not saying that. She’s definitely not afraid of conflict and will absolutely throw down, verbally and/or physically. Enemies: Honestly she’s probably declared someone her mortal enemy every single time she’s gotten drunk in the last month.

MOTIVATIONS. Intentions: I...listen. She’s here for a good time, not a long time. She wants to be able to socialize with people who aren’t 8 years old. She also, allegedly, would like to get married, but that’s like...allegedly. Goals: She’d mostly really like to learn how to speak German, if you were to ask her about her current goals. Oh, and marriage, allegedly. Fears: Delilah is absolutely terrified of things changing in her life and losing control over that change. She is also terrified of things not changing, and remaining the way they are. She feels very stuck and stagnant in her life and her job and she’s suffocating under the weight of all the choices and mistakes she’s made or avoided. Regrets: She never looks back, darling, it distracts from the now. ( Also because if she did she’d have a full on nervous breakdown panic attack wondering how the hell she’s cresting thirty and still unmarried with no prospects. ) Breakthroughs: ( Shrugs and makes an ‘I dunno’ sound. GUESS WE’LL FIND OUT ! )

[raintowhiterun]

The Story of Aus (Skyrim SE 100% Playthrough) Information & Introduction

So, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to post this or not, but I did work hard on it so I figured I’d share, plus I’d like to keep this as a memory ^~^)/ Basically, this is the “script” for the prologue for the series I plan to start, possibly tomorrow? I’m super excited so here goes!

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∾ Introduction

Hello hello and welcome to my channel! My name is Tiger and I use this channel to keep my gaming memories. I don't expect anyone to watch this series, but if you decided to check it out, I'd like to welcome you! I hope you enjoy this game as much as I do.

I wanted to start this series on the PC, but I don't know when I'll be able to buy the audio splitter that I need for my computer and there's no guarantee my mic will even work when I do manage to buy it, so I decided to just play this out on the PS4, which will be streamed since I don't have recording software. I'll be using a timer to keep the videos around 30 minutes long.

Now, this series will be a 100% playthrough. I've seen several of these floating around, but some of them leave out factions, others leave out the Daedra quests, some don't do locations. And in my opinion, that isn't a true 100% playthrough. In this series, my goal is to truly 100% the game by doing EVERYTHING - the main storyline, the war storyline, all of the guilds, the Daedra quests, discovering all locations, completing every single quest including the miscellaneous ones, and so much more. It's going to be a long ass ride, but I'm excited to discover this game in its entirety!

It may seem boring or stupid, but the point of this 100% playthrough is so I can take my time and enjoy the game as its meant to be enjoyed. It's such a beautiful game with so much content and such a rich story, I want to take my time and enjoy it while streaming so I can keep the memory. Who knows, maybe someone else will enjoy this adventure with me~

I should mention that I WILL be attempting to play the role of this character as if I AM her. If you've seen my Dark Brotherhood playthrough which, at this time, is currently on-going, you'll know that this is going to be cringy as fuck, but I'm going to try my best. I won't be skipping any of the dialogue, either. I AM using a few mods, but no over-powered or crazy ones, in my opinion. I'll drop those in the description so you can judge that for yourself. Most of them are just aesthetic mods~

Let's get started by meeting our main character and learning about her story!

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∾ Backstory

My name is Auserie, or Aus for short. I was born on a cold, rainy night in Solitude's chapel to an Altmer woman named Erralaine Aedire. Everyone assumed I was fathered by her fiance, an Altmer man named Ondolemar, but they assumed wrong. My mother loathed Ondolemar, but the two had been set to wed since they were just infants, fresh out of their mother's womb. She tried everything to avoid this union, but her family would not let her get away. She a member of the Aedire, after all, a clan of Thalmor soldiers that served the Almeri Dominion without fail. In an attempt to comfort her, Erralaine's grandmother, a kind woman named Ley, tried to convince her that love would eventually blossom between them.

But how could love possibly blossom from such a deep hatred?

To Erralaine's surprise, love DID blossom, but not with Ondolemar. No, love came to her from a young Nord soldier fighting for the empire. Atarse Fire-Hair was one of three soldiers tasked with guarding Erralaine and her elder sister, Siranya, on their way to the Thalmor headquarters in Solitude. He was the youngest, not yet wise to the ways of the world, and he didn't hesitate to strike up a conversation with the two women. While Siranya ignored him, Erralaine was happy to be speaking to someone that was neither haughty nor rude. It wasn't long before the two of them fell in love and from that love, I was born.

No one but great grandma Ley knew of this secret, and she wasn't about to tell anyone. While Erralaine still was not happy with her husband, she acted out less with me around, but as I got older, I started to look more like Atarse and people started to notice. I was five the first time Ondolemar hit my mother, accusing her of being a harlot that slept around on him. He would have gotten rid of her, but she was currently with child and, according to the priestess of Arkay that often checked on my mother, she was due to have a boy.

This pleased him greatly and he kept his mouth shut, denying any allegations that were raised to him about my appearance. Exactly one year after my brother, Tusriil, was born, my mother came to me in the middle of the night, rousing me from my sleep. Even in my confused, half-asleep state, I recognized the urgency in her voice. She spoke to me in a hushed voice, telling me that everything would be okay. But it wasn't - at least not for her.

She snuck me out of Solitude with the help of a few Imperial soldiers, where I got onto a horse with a soldier whose name I was never given. He was kind, and I remember the soft smile he gave me and the protective way he held me as the horse started to trot away, leaving behind my mother and baby brother. At the time, I never thought I wouldn't see them again.

We rode on for nearly a day before arriving at a small shack northwest of Rorikstead where a red-headed man was waiting. I'll never forget the bright smile he offered me, his blue eyes full of happiness. I'll never forget how his expression darkened as he asked about my mother to the soldier, who shook his head. This man was Atarse Fire-Hair, my father, and this shack was to be my new home.

I later learned that, two days after I was smuggled out of Solitude, my mother was found stabbed through the heart. They called it a robbery gone wrong, but everyone that was involved knew better. It was no robbery, and it certainly wasn't an accident.

Despite missing my mother and brother dearly, I was happy with my father. He taught me how to use a bow and how to hunt for food, he read to me every single night, and he was there every time I had a nightmare. He was a damn good father, better than Ondolemar could even dream of being. I loved him dearly but, as he got older in age, he grew weaker and weaker until, finally, his body gave out on him and Shor carried his soul to Sovngarde.

For a while, I just sat within the shack and slept. I had no one and I felt so... lost. What was I to do with my life? But I knew neither of my parents would want me to suffer the way I was. They would want me to live, to experience life as I wanted to and, more importantly, to be happy. It was the toughest time of my life, but I took my father's bow and arrows, and I left the shack for the last time, not looking back.

For two years, I just wandered the land of Skyrim, living off the land and avoiding all major cities. While I did interact with some people, I much rather preferred to be with nature and with the wilds that lived within in. My life was peaceful and I was slowly beginning to recover from the loss of my father.

And then I got dragged down by being in the wrong place as the wrong time. I had been hunting near the border separating Skyrim from Morrowind when Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of the rebellion against the Imperials, appeared with a few of his soldiers in tow. I realized the situation and did not want to be swept up in their war, but it was too late - the Imperials ambushed them and I was captured as an accomplice, along with another man who had just been passing by at the wrong time.

While I did manage to escape losing my head, the situation in Helgen set off a chain of events that I know is going to alter my life, whether I like it or not. I'm not sure what path my life will go down and I don't really have a goal to go after, but I hope that by wandering through life, I will find my purpose. A small part of me wants revenge against Ondolemar, and another small part wishes to find my baby brother, but that's a can of worms I'm just not ready to open.

So, this is my story.

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∾ Mods

Here's the list of mods I'm using in this playthrough:

1. Meeko and Vigilance are huskies 2. On The Hunt - Gathering 3. On The Hunt - Hunting (Survival Friendly) 4. Epic Enhanced Console Graphics V5 (PS4) 5. NLA - Natural Lighting Aesthetica 6. No Salt Required! 7. Marry Almost Anyone 8. Various Dragons 9. Dense Grass PS4 10. Better Horses 11. Immersive Citizens - AI Overhaul 12. Hunter's Cabin of Riverwood PS4 13. Stones of Barenziah Quest Markers 14. Realistic Conversations ( PS4 ) 15. [PS4]Lampposts of Skyrim:Special Edition 16. Point the Way

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[spacegaywritings]

Warming Paws and Melting Walls (2/8) “The Naming of the Beast”

Summary: Remy gets home, his day unusually long and body extremely exhausted. Still, he and the cat seem to get along a bit better as they share a bit of time bonding in their weird states.

Tags: mentions of the vet (+ aftermath), abandoned cat, alcohol/wine, tipsy Remy (being a soft man), food/ meat, pain killer mention, drinking, dummy logic, dummy thicc fucking Remy, Remy the cat whisperer, mentions of Kim Kardeshian.. shien..? idk man, slight mention of systemic oppression bc wow Remy is spilling the beans, name talks, cuddling, snuggling, books, mentions of vaccines, soft insults bc Remy, purposefully horrible old english.

ao3: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 // all.

tumblr:  1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8.

My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Note: If you miss any tags, have issues with links or any other concerns, please feel free to contact me. Anon is on and my DMs are open.

Story under the cut! (Wordcount: ~3,5k)

 It was late when the kitty cat and Remy returned and in all honestly, the receptionist was more than exhausted and done with everything. The whole day had taken a toll on him and interacting with people under bright lights was obviously not the best for a person with photo-sensitivity and self-diagnosed bitch syndrome.

 His body was hurting, the pain had gotten more intense and rendered him a heavy and sleepy mess. He still needed to feed the cat. While the pain killers had done some to ease his pain, the extra activity had him feel like absolute trash, after all.

At least, the vet had found the little queen to be healthy and taken good care of. It indicated that there were owners or strangers to take care of the kitten but there were no tattoos, no marks or anything. Whatever care the cat had received before, it seemed to be over now. Nobody was looking for the cat as far as the vet and the local pet shelter have told him.

 To make sure the cat would be okay, he got scheduled appointments for vaccinations (the kitty cat already got some that day). In like, a month, he was supposed to come back. Considering the cat was about one year old, it was time to refresh vaccinations anyway, at least that is what the vet said. There was so much information smoking in his brain and it hurt him. It was extra weight putting his head down.

 There was no chip for the kitten.. He would set up an ad on-line to show that the cat was found. He and the vet assume the cat to have run away from home or having been left behind after the family moved. Something like that.

Still, he could try so the cat would not really be his problem anymore. There was obviously no name tag or collar. He would have noticed, he is not that fucking dense. The vet, too.

 At least Remy got some answers for what the fuck this kitten should eat and could not ever eat because it could hurt.

 Also, the cat was a she. Well, too fucking bad Remy settled for they/them pronouns. While he talked to the cat, he could at least practice pronouns he usually did not use much. The cat could not get offended. Totally a win-win situatuon.

 The coffee lover curled up on the couch, kitty cat still somewhat drowsy in his lap.To be honest, the cat felt drunk to him, so Remy did not know better but to nurse his own wine while giving the kitten some chicken he had gotten for them.

 “Queen, you are a really really unbelievable thing”, he started as he looked at the tiny void in his lap that was currently chewing on a last bit of chicken pieces.

 He had removed all that bone stuff and washed off the meat before to make sure it was not seasoned or too greasy and such for the kitten. Totally no need to kill the poor thing when he could just be fucking careful and mind their needs and limits.

 “You know, you get all hot on those funny things and you are living with me now - without paying rent - and like, you do not even give me your a name. You are, like, the most mysterious person I have ever met. Fucking rude, you little harlot.”

 Remy sipped a bit of his wine and placed the package on the table. Yes, he drank wine out of a package because he was a cheap person. He needed to pay off the flat he had bought because his job did not make the most money ever. At least it was enough for him having a somewhat cozy and stable life.

 He carefully shifted under the warm weight of the warm fluff. Remy was so glad the vet cleaned the cat so he did not need to do that. Was that extra service? He definitely paid for this shit, not gonna lie. Well, he would get a bill eventually and then he could still get upset over that. Ultimately, it did not matter right? He had some savings and the cat would be gone soon because it was someone else’s kitty cat.

 It was not even in his place to just cuddle with the kitten while watching some bitch flick. But now that he had to ditch his weekend routine for the cat, they had to suck up for it. Also, he was just in a ton of pain by now and hoping for the local wine package to just knock him out well enough. If his senses were numbed, so were his pain receptors because brain foggy when Remy drunk-y.

 “Listen up, kitty cat. We might need a name for you, darling”, he started and looked down at how they were licking over their muzzle and nose.

 The meal was done and the cat seemed satisfied... The little tongue looked so cute, it was so so pink.

 “I mean, maybe you already have a name but calling you queen all the time ..”, he trailed off and shrugged, “you know, don’t know whether you, like, deserve that title to be a name. It is something you earn and live, but you are not just some queen. Except when you are some fucking royal but who the fuck cares about that shit.”

 The cat looked up at him and he vaguely looked back before sticking his tongue out and gently brushing through the soft fur of the little monster of coal he sheltered.

 “Yeah, right. Fuck the Queen. It is not the same as you being a queen. Anyway, it would kinda not be the same for you to be a queen and to be Queen. You know?“

 Remy chuckled as the kitten pushed its head against his ribcage.

 “You totally get me, don’t you?”

 The kitten meowed in reply and he continued to pet the little ball of softness. The little one even smelled great. Well, now.

 “Okay, let us give you a name that fits you. I don’t know, honey. Something fancy but also classy because it is you”, he giggled, “I don’t know but we will find something!”

  Remy gently picked up the little kitten and hummed as he stumbled over to the bookshelves. His wine was abandoned and the small void simply meowed in response to his actions.

 “You know what, fuck that show. They all suck anyway, honey. Reality TV is just a nice background .. nice, like.. what else would people watch Kim Kardeshian for? Genuine interest? Gurl, it is all about the sounds and sights or plainly being the malicious bitch to gossip and ridicule these people.”

 He giggled and settled before the bookshelf, sitting there with the little queen on his arms. Was queen a title, now? Not a name but somehow some kind of pet name, huh.

 “You know what, kitty?”, he whispered and the cat shook their head at the sudden sounds and the wet breath Remy offered. They pushed their little head against the man’s collar bone.

“I am that kinda bitch to do all the heavy gossiping.”

 He laid down and let the cat rest on his chest. His back was pressed against the dark floor in his reading corner. The curious little cloud looked around and stood up, tail curiously moving from one side to the other. Then it stayed and moved in slow-motion before returning to the other side while staying kinda between low and horizontal.

 Cats were so cute.

 And the cat really looked like a cloud.

A dark one.

Not a black sheep, a black cloud!

 “Storm cloouUuUuUd”, Remy sang softly and the cat turned back to him, letting out a responsive sound in reply.

 They understood him! Or were at least annoyed enough to react and give him a “what the fuck” look with all the sassy cat-ness in their bi-coloured orbs.

 “Aw!! You react! But that is a long way to go, still, you brooding little dust ghost.”

 He blew a little bit off of the cat’s head and brushed it off to make sure it was all clear. Maybe from the chicken or the couch.

He had to cleaaaan, ew. Woooork.

Bad cat. They really be spreading the dust around like a little ghost.

Damn it, he only wanted to find some nicknames for the small being.

  “Cat, can’t you do the work for me? I mean, come on, I totally got you to the vet and you got drugged for free. That is a real favour to do for a stranger, gurl.”

 The cat looked back up at him.

Oh, how could he have forgotten about that??

 “Bitch!”

 Remy exclaimed wildly and sat up, simply to fall back into the ground with a dull ‘thud’ accompanying his motions. The insides of his head seemed to be forcefully shrunk together and the tipsy man groaned in annoyance. The pain was so fuzzy and far away, it was basically a street sign on the other side of the street during a day of heavy fog.

All he did feel was the heaviness of his head and the horrible throbbing that came right after he limply dropped into the hard wood again.

 “uh… Aw, I am the dumb bitch, here. Kim, save me”, he weakly slurred.

 Obviously, he was in about the greatest state to take care of another being, especially one that was just as drowsy as him and slowly processed his sudden movements with flinches away from him.

When the man did not move, the curious guest nudged Remy’s nose with their own.

Had the coffee lover seen it, he would have swooned, probably.

 Well, on the other side, he slowly got himself together and carefully shifted again, this time being considerate of his own and the kitty’s needs. He was much slower, lethargic in a way, it would make Sloth itself jealous.

Eventually, he was in position, vision still blurred with blackish spots tainting his view on the dimly lit apartment.

  “So- as I was saying… wait”, he started yet trailed off soon after, voice quieting down and light eyes closing.

“uh.. yeah, I know where I left off. So, as I was, uh, saying.. Like, bitch! You are totally as tipsy as I am with all those killers in ya, big boi.”

 Once more, his own giggles filled the room while the cat just pushed their head against his chin. The creature somewhat vibrated a bit and it felt oddly funny to Remy. Indescribable sounds came from the little kitty cat. It did not sound like a Queen, not really. It was more like uh.. a cat. Nothing else Remy has ever heard sounded quite like that.

 “You uh.. you still need a name, you little void egg, you. Hihi.“

 Remy curled and gently cradled the black ball closer. His grip around the cat was secure yet loose. The cloud of nothingness was comfortably sunk into his arms as the man got onto his wobbly legs and moved his jelly sticks closer to the little corner of books and boxes once more.

The kitten did have more than just great taste to hide there when they first started exploring some shit around his flat.

 Their flat?

… uhh.. the doc said to look for the original owners.. oh man, he still had to do that on top of all the things he had to do. And he did not even know whether it was worth it but it was much better than just giving the cat over to some shelter.. uh.. cat thingy.. cat orphanage?

Cat orphanage. Sounded like a totally valid word. Yes, Remy, the name was, like, totally not sanctuary. Absolutely it was not. You fucking genius.

 The kitten was snuggled up to Remy’s chest, acutely unaware of the change of environment that slowly came around with Remy wandering off their spot to really dive into the corner of his secret reading delights. He was back on the oriel, the space were the floor was not any dark wood anymore but instead carpeted in wine red. This was the only piece of floor in his home that had a little bit of carpet and it just started with a provisional glass door he had put there with more than just a little effort.

Basically, this little corner was a glass globe library with the perfect sight on the snowy streets and other weather conditions throughout life. Due to architecture, he basically had a built-in bench because some oriels build a “dent” into the home which can be used as some kind of elaborate and excessively broad window sill.

 It was worth all the work he had put into it.

Whenever he came in to read, it was calm and silent, it was warm but easily adjusted by opening the windows or turning on the heating (considering he did not live in the warmest region on earth at all. In fact, he lived in a more moderate climate and enjoyed the tendency towards coolish temperatures. Despite climate change, there was still snow early in the winter months).

 The two curled up on the floor, leaning against a beanbag. Remy was leaning against the beanbag, to be specific. The kitten was curled up on Remy, cuddling into his arms like the hazy bitch they were. The Queen could barely process anything but well, steady ground it was.

Remy was resting on the bean bag, the cat silently meowing at the change of softness around them when the home-owner slowly turned his body for the kitten to slide against the bad with him.

Maybe the cat liked it. Nobody could know anything because the cat was out of it and also, cats were hell-spawns who were not to be understood but worshipped only.

 A book was resting in Remy’s lap. When did he pull it there? He did not remember. Maybe it had just settled with him, flying over or whatnot.

The book was one hell of a beast.

Pages upon pages were stacked on top of one another and bound together in the obscene creation of a whole book that held knowledge, big enough to rival a human brain in size - at least when putting this knowledge onto pages in barely readable fonts and size.

 “Yo, cat. We need a name for ya, honey.”

 He let his head roll to the side and then back into position again. The void looked over at him and seemed to shrug. Maybe Remy was imagining things.

 “Uh.. You can’t read that for me, now, can you? Why do people even get cats, man. Like, no offence but is that not why we have human beings? So we socialise and uh .. uh like.. taaaalk and hate one another. Cuz we totaaally need that kinda interaction.”

 His voice let the words blend in together, the muffled sentence barely resembling different words or sounds but instead one big hum. Useless blabber, at most. Not that the pet would understand him if he was putting proper effort into talking like a sober and completely sane person.

 “Caaat. Caaaat, just learn reading? Give yourself a name, gurl. Independence!”

 Yeah, well.. This seemed not to work, in fact, it obviously resembled a fruitless endeavour instead. Much like teaching a donkey how to sow greens, the cat took up Remy’s words and ignored them skilfully. Even in his tipsy mind, he was well aware that an animal would not just magically learn reading and then read out to him. However, the wishful thinking was still in his heart… and his foggy dummy mind.

He reverted to child-like attention spans and reasoning abilities whenever he got to drink just a bit more than a little. And honestly, the wine got a little to him, especially with this bottomless void eating, like, all of this fucking chicken.

 He mumbled something about sharing under his breath before he pulled the book closer and heaved it open with his weak noodle power. There was not that much energy left in his heart. He was tipsy and as soft as molten butter.

The book groaned as it was opened, awakening the pages of knowledge from deep slumber.

It willingly dropped the front and backside onto Remy’s lap. It spread like a good partner for the intimate deeds. The excitement of being handled and warmed by a knowledge-seeking person got to it and drove the book to reveal just the right passage for them.

 “Names.. Names. Kitty cat, pick a name.”

 “mrrrow..?”

 “Yeah, hoe, but like, you’re a Queen.. to me and not to others so how about you lemme pick a name,  so the mortals can give you their foolish attempts of daring to raise their voice at you without spoiling your title, you void hoe.”

 The cat gave him a slow-motion blink of two eyes. These wonderfully coloured eyes.. How were cats allowed to just have such precious gems as eyes. Like.. did he rob some jewellery store thing.. did they have names again, he felt like they had some kinda name and he was supposed to know this and all.

Uh, he would be clever later.

 “Alright. This is a name dictionary thing. Like, for when you get a baby and you need to name that little shit, so the system can discriminate against it. It gives you names, you know. You have them according to the alphabet which is a linguistic attempt at bringing order into the way we communicate and organise shit. By the way, this is totally lame because language is fucking liv- ah, uh.. alive. That’s the bitch I was looking for.”

 Remy suppressed a burp before he allowed himself to continue.

 “Can you .. can you just paw this thing?”

 The cat did not move. Uh.. He carefully nudged the little monster. A lazy glare was thrown his way but this is where it stopped. Such a lazy hoe. They would be the bestest of friends very soon.

Seriously, kitten? Not even some dumbass meow sound or whatever? Wow, okay. Selfish much.

 He groaned.

Now we was getting upset with a little cat. He made it this far in his life. Instead of diving deeper into any negative feelings, he moved himself. His finger gently tapped onto the paw once more and softly stroked it before putting it onto the page.

 “Oh, mine own dearest liege, I has't did summon all the fucks i has't hath left to giveth and ‘t wast enow to maketh.. this miracle! Uh - thou hath moveth thy fucking paw. ”

 …Not even that did get the cat to as much as meow at him. At LEAST the void monster spared him a glance of annoyance for his effort. Valid, valid. At least some feedback, thundercloud. Yet, the moment was gone as soon as it came and the kitten then dropped the whole thing and looked down again.

Some sorta ritual to close their eyes and nap away. Even the cat had better living habits than he did.

 “Nonononono, dun nap jus yeeeet! V-V … uh..”

 He had taken up the name from the book, accepting the fate of the paw and started looking into the decision of the higher spirits. He was ready to act up on whatever the heavens and skies and all that shit have decided for the cat to be named.

 The man squinted at the pages.

The top of it said “V”, so he knew that this was the start for their name now. Of course the Queen would be such a diva and end up with a name as unique as starting with such a rare letter. Totally Extra :tm:.

To be fair.. who the fuck used those letters anyway, man.. xylophone? Laaaaaaaaaaaame. Virginia, Voltron, V-.. V…

 “Virgil”

 Remy blinked.

He blinked multiple fucking times.

The name did NOT, unlike his mind’s stupid expectation, suddenly change into something like, uh, you know,… Jared. Some funny shit.

 No, it was still this name. Virgil.

 “Is that even a name for a cat who I declare to be gendered in the neutral only? Uh, you know.. whatever, like, it is whatever because you are a QUEEEEEENG.. Queen.. a queen. You just un-rule gendered names. They are stupid anyway, guuurl. Fuck this all.”

 “Queen Virgil! Now how does that make you feel, huh?”

 The kitten gave him another blink and finally retreated their paw.

 “Yeah, my little nightmare goat. We are gonna go nap all night, all day!”

 The man giggled again. Then he made sure to just give up and fall asleep like that, curled up on a beanie, kitty cat fur tickling him and doing nothing to facilitate his breathing. All he breathed in was ai- uh.. No.. Virgil’s fur.

 Welcome to a change of life, huh?

Or simply: “Welcome, Virgil”.

[eldritchsurveys]

667.

1. If you found a baby turtle on the side of the road, would you pick it up and keep it? >> If I found a baby of any species on the side of the road, I’m not going to pick it up and keep it, I’m going to call the appropriate authorities and let them handle it. The fuck am I doing with a baby anything? 2. Did you and your mum ever have a big fight that caused you to move out? >> --- 3. Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? >> --- 4. Have you had a good day today or was yesterday better? >> It was all right. At least the Sun was out a bit, and I managed to go out for once. Mostly I’m glad to be back in my bed now, lol. 5. Do you have any plans for the upcoming weekend? >> No.

6. How about you, do you have a bf/gf? >> Hm. 7. Could you date someone very attractive, but who thought they were better than everyone else? >> I don’t date, period, but I also wouldn’t hang out with someone who had a superiority complex. 8. So do you have a best friend? >> No. 9. What would you do if your best friend kissed the last person you kissed? >> --- 10. Do you dislike anyone? >> Not really. There are people I don’t really want to be around, of course, but I can’t think of anyone specific that I’m like “fuck that guy in particular” about except for people that have unapologetically hurt me (in which case it’s less “I dislike you” and more “I don’t even want to acknowledge your existence”). 11. Did you message your best friend today? >> --- 12. Do you think you will be in a relationship two months from now? >> I don’t see why not. 13. Do you always feel like you’re making mistakes? >> Yeah, because I have Trauma Brain. But I also know that I don’t make any more mistakes than the average person and most of my mistakes are easily fixed. 14. How do you feel about your hair right now? >> I’m going to need to buzz it again soon. 15. Does anybody have a tattoo with your name on it? >> Maybe someone has a tattoo of my name, because my name doesn’t just belong to me. But no one has a tattoo of my name that is actually about me. 16. Who did you last see shirtless? >> A couple of characters on Carnivale (before one of them got hanged with the word “HARLOT” carved into her forehead, of course. this is Carnivale after all). 17. How would you feel if you got the person you liked? >> --- 18. Do you think you can last in a relationship for six months without cheating? >> *sigh* 19. Do you like to make the first move? >> The first move to what? 20. Do you think you will ever be married? >> I am married. 21. Have you ever tried your hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? >> Sure. 22. Is it possible to be single and happy? >> Duh? 23. Was the first person you talked to today male or female? >> The first person I spoke to was the bartender at Gardella’s, who is female. 24. Do you remember who you liked on New Year’s? >> --- 25. Are you a morning person or a night person? I’m barely a person. <-- mood 26. Could you go the rest of your life without drinking alcohol? >> Whether I “can” or not is irrelevant because I don’t fucking want to. 27. Have you ever felt like you weren’t good enough? >> Sure. 28. Is there anyone who likes you? >> --- 29. If the last person you kissed saw you kissing someone else, would they be mad? >> --- 30. Do you understand football? >> I understand American football. I don’t know anything about soccer football except the obvious bits. 31. What’s the first thing you heard this morning? >> I don’t know. 32. Who last called you beautiful? >> I don’t know. 33. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? >> No. 34. How many kids do you want when you get older? >> --- 35. Are you the type of person who has a new boyfriend/girlfriend every week? >> Of course not. 36. Ever been called a jerk/bitch? >> Yep. 37. Do you have feelings for anyone? >> Bold of you to assume I have feelings-- 38. If you fell pregnant to the last person you kissed, what would you think? >> Falling while pregnant is dangerous, oof-- 39. What’s your full name? >> *eldritch screeching* 40. Are you young or old? >> Depends on your perspective -- to a child I’m old, to a middle-aged person I’m young, etc. 41. What’s the gender? >> Oh, the gender outside is frightful... 42. How’s your heart been lately? >> You know. Beating and such. 43. Why aren’t you in bed? >> I am, though. 44. Did you do laundry today? >> No. 45. What kind of computer do you have? >> I have an MSI Leopard Pro and a Lenovo Ideapad. 46. Are there always other fish in the sea? >> Not if you overfish. 47. What can your tongue do? >> You know. Lick stuff. Form phonemes. Get chemical burns when I eat too many sour candies in a row. 48. What do you think your mum does when she goes out? >> --- 49. Do chickens have feelings? >> I don’t know anything about chicken neurology/psychology. 50. Do you think the body is the most beautiful thing that was ever made? >> No. 51. So how are you feeling today? >> Neutral. 52. Where is your sister right now? >> --- 53. Name five things you did today? >> Took a bus, drank at a bar, briefly logged into ESO, watched an episode of Carnivale, ate mac n’ cheese with bacon. 54. What kind of phone do you have? >> Moto g6. 55. What are you listening to? >> Nothing. 56. What do you smell like? >> A bit like my roll-on oil and a bit like my whipped shea butter. Mostly just like... clean skin or whatever. 57. What colour are your eyes? >> Dark brown. 58. Have you ever done a Chinese fire drill? >> No. 59. Do you know someone named Betsy? >> No. 60. What colour is your mum’s hair? >> --- 61. Do you have a dog? Breed? Name? >> No. 62. Do you remember singing any songs as a kid? >> I mean, yeah? 63. Are you married? >> Yes. 64. When was the last time you talked to one of your siblings? >> --- 65. Do you play an instrument? >> No. 66. Do you like fire? >> Sure, fire is nice. In moderation. 67. Are you allergic to anything? >> No. 68. Have you ever been to a spa? >> I’ve been to a nail spa because Sparrow works at one. I’ve also been to the Aveda spa that she did her training in years ago. 69. Do you miss someone? >> No. 70. Views on premarital sex? >> I have no views on it. I really can’t fathom having an opinion on whomst other people fuck and when. 71. What is a noise that you cannot stand? >> Face sounds. Any of them. Eating, breathing, sniffling, lip-licking, eugh. Stay away. (Sometimes I can hear myself blinking and I want to rip my eyelids off. It’s bad.) 72. Do you know how to do a cartwheel? >> Yeah. 73. What is the most you are willing to spend on a pair of sunglasses? >> Not much. 74. Does your mum vacuum early in the morning while you’re asleep? >> --- 75. Do you shower naked? >> Do I look like Tobias Funke to you? 76. Does wearing glasses really make people look smart? >> That’s not my interpretation. People with glasses just look like people with glasses. 77. Are you ADD or ADHD? >> No. 78. Do your band-aids have cartoons on them? >> I FUCKING WISH. I was so mad when I needed band-aids for my feet and none of the ones in the size I needed came in cartoon print. The only ones with fun designs were little baby band-aids. I think as an adult I should be able to buy whatever the fuck kind of band-aids I want, including ones with Stitch on them. Fuck you. 79. Have you ever kissed someone you shouldn’t have? >> Probably. 80. In one word, how would you define yourself? >> I wouldn’t. 81. Tell me about a dream you had recently? >> I can’t, I can never remember them anymore. I get vague wispy impressions upon waking, and then even those disappear after a few minutes. I feel disconnected from dream!Mordred and I’m so curious at what it’s been up to. 82. Who’s the funniest drunk person you know? >> --- 83. How did you feel when you woke up? >> Fine, I guess. 84. What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up this morning? >> I don’t know, probably something related to Sparrow knocking around as she got ready for work, because that’s my first sensory memory upon awakening. 85. Name something great that happened on Friday? >> It’s Thursday, ask me on Saturday. 86. When was the last time you saw your father? >> --- 87. Do you wish someone would call or text you right now? >> No. 88. Have you ever been kissed by a person whose name starts with J? >> Yeah. 89. Do you crack your knuckles? >> Yeah. 90. What were you doing twenty minutes ago? >> Probably still this survey, since it’s so long. 91. You’re thinking about someone, aren’t you? >> No. 92. Have you held hands with anyone in the past twenty-four hours? >> No. 93. What would you do if your partner still kept pictures of their ex? >> Nothing? That doesn’t affect me. 94. What if your partner went through your cellphone? >> I wouldn’t be with someone that went through my belongings without my express permission. 95. What if your partner was flirting with another girl/boy? >> I’d be glad for her. I hope she gets whatever she’s looking for from that interaction. 96. Ever liked someone you thought you didn’t stand a chance with? >> --- 97. You want someone/something? >> Not really. 98. Is there really a difference between Coke and Pepsi? >> Yeah, which is why many people have a preference. 99. Is there any emotion you’re trying to avoid right now? >> No. 100. Are there any mistakes with your recent ex you wish you could have changed? >> I’m pretty sure the entire situation in itself was a mistake, and it was changed, by us ending up having no contact with each other. 101. Has anyone ever been with you while you were throwing up? >> I mean, sure. 102. Background on your computer? >> Right now it’s a wallpaper with a scene from the movie Interstellar. (My desktop wallpaper is on a shuffle timer.) 103. Have you cried recently? >> Like, within the last week, probably. 104. Who has hurt you the most? >> I don’t know. 105. Are you happy with where you are relationship-wise now? >> Sure. 106. What language do you want to learn? >> --- 107. Your ex’s car breaks down and they ask you for a lift. Your response? >> I mean, I don’t drive, dude. Also, we live in wildly different parts of the country. This is just so many layers of implausible. 108. Would you hit a member of the opposite sex? >> ---

[eyesfixedonthesun22]

She’s So High: Chapter 7

Summary: 90’s karaoke and your snarky wit seem to have revived the charming side of one Bucky Barnes. Now that he finally has you home all to himself, perhaps he can put some of that charm to good use. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Warning(s): Smut 18+. Swearing. Kissing, Hand Job, Oral Sex (male receiving), Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex. Word Count: 2,635 Notes: Idea was inspired by this 90′s playlist. This chapter was beta read by the lovely @viktordrago. You all go thank her cause without her there would have been A TON of really laughable errors. Thank you so much to everyone for their likes and reblogs thus far. Anyone who left comments has literally melted my heart. I love you all.  Smut Note: ***DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, INTERACT WITH MY WORK IF YOU’RE NOT 18+*** It goes without saying, unprotected sex....please make sure your partners are clean and you use an agreed upon form of protection (if relevant).

You sprint up to the tower mildly annoyed you’re being made to run on one of your days off. The public doors to the tower are locked for the evening so you head for the private entrance. After scanning your biometrics, you push the door open only to see a smug Bucky standing in the elevator with the door hold button on.

“Took you long enough, Doll.” He says dangling your phone back and forth like a pendulum feigning as if he’d waiting longer.

“Not everyone has super serum steroids running through their veins. Plus, you try running with someone’s cum leaking out of you. Not fun!” you rant while attempting to steal your phone back.

“Not so fast, darling. All that talk of my cum inside of you is turning me on.” He says puckering his lips in a taunting manner while continuing to hold your phone just out of reach. You roll your eyes at his arrogance. Taking a deep relaxing breath, you spring into one of your favorite field moves in hopes of being able to grapple your phone to freedom.

Bucky must have known you’d take the bait. He counters you gently and with lightning precision has you pinned against the elevator wall with your hands helplessly overhead; hips locked in place by his own.

“Did you really think I don’t have your favorite move memorized? You and Nat, so predictable.” he tuts with his face close enough to smell the hints of whiskey on his breath.

His left hand takes over holding both of your wrists in place; the cool metallic palm dwarfing both your own. To any onlooker, Bucky’s position over you would have looked predatory but you basked in the return of his confidence. His right hand tucks your phone securely in his back pocket before taking a firm hold on your hip.

“Ever think this is the exact outcome I wanted and you just fell for it?” you counter, testing the waters. “Winter Soldier’s getting soft.”

“I think you’ll find it's quite the contrary, doll.”  His hips grind against you and you feel him stirring in his jeans. Sensing your resolve is crumbling, he peppers light kisses along the column of exposed skin on your neck. You attempt to hold back and not give him the satisfaction, when he begins sucking and nipping at your soft flesh, you reluctantly cave.

The two of you are so thoroughly lost in one another you, don’t hear the elevator ding once you reach the living quarters.

“Agent Barnes. Agent Y/L/N. Floor 90: Living Quarters” Friday prompts. Bucky doesn’t come up for air. His metal arm releases your wrists from their willing prison only to tap lightly on your thighs. You know what he’s suggesting but you pause.

“Up you go!” He says picking you up with ease.

“Bucky Barnes you put me down this minute! I swear to god if you drop me-” His footsteps pause and he pulls back from kissing your neck. One eyebrow is raised and his mouth is firmly set in a smirk.

“I’m not exactly light as a feather, Buck.” His expression flickers to confusion as his head cocks to the side.

“Being picked up makes me hyper aware of my body.” Your eyes fall from his face now self-conscious about meeting his gaze.

“You mean aware of these?” He squeezes your bum appreciatively. “Or these?” Now holding you with his right arm and caressing the curves of your hip and thighs. “You must mean these?” Palming your breast in admiration.  “Darlin’ I ache for every damn bit of your body. I wanna worship it all.”

Your eyes raise from their spot on his chest. “I’m serious, sweetheart. Besides, you’d have to somehow grow to Scott’s freaky large Antman size to pose a challenge for this super strength.” You beam and peck his nose lightly.

“Thank you, Buck.” He kisses you back with renewed fervor while continuing the trek down the hall. Finally in the privacy of your room, he lets your body gently descend his with a controlled grace; lips never leaving yours. You come up for air only to realize you’re in Bucky’s room not your own.

It shouldn’t surprise you; but it catches you off guard regardless. You’ve only ever seen small slivers of his room in the past. His door was always shut like a not so subtle “keep out” sign. If it is open, it’s only so he can peak his head out to chat with Steve to decline a run. Bucky senses your curiosity and lets you explore.

On the largest window-filled wall sits a beautiful walnut desk. You’d imagined it would be bathed in sunlight come morning. The desk is bare except for a set of small plain back notebooks stood between leather wrapped bookends. Upon further examination, you can see each notebook has a range of dates on its spine.

“Therapy has helped a lot; but my memory isn’t one hundred percent still. Whenever I remember something or have a dream, I write it down in those.” Your heart clenches with empathy.

On the wall near his closet is a cork board with a small collection of photos; mostly black and white prints. Looking closer, you find a scrawny Steve beaming a stress free smile you rarely see on him now. Bucky’s arm is slung over his shoulder. They look so young; clearly void of the pressures of Captain America and Winter Soldier. Squinting at the more faded photos, you make out what looks to be his family interspersed with some drawings you recognize in Steve’s style. Right in the center of the collection is a group photo of the Avengers from the holiday party last year.

On his nightstand is a well-worn copy of War of the Worlds next to an ambient noise machine. His duvet is a calming shade of blue which perfectly coordinates with the camel leather headboard. It’s warm and welcoming.

It almost feels intrusive to see the intimate details of Bucky’s space and disturb his calm oasis. Your heart swells with emotion knowing how much he must trust you to have brought you here.

“It’s beautiful, Buck. Did you decorate it?” you feel his arms circle around your waist from behind as you continue to look around.

“Of course I did, darling. It took me a long time to figure out what I wanted; but I finally have something that feels like mine.” He gives you a quick peck on your cheek before walking over to the nightstand.

Still wonderstruck by his room, your revere is interrupted by music filling the space. It’s a song you recognize from one of your private playlists. You turn to face him; his hands once again encircling you. “How did you-” You’re pushed back into the plush duvet with a short yelp.

“Your playlists may be private but you didn’t turn on a private listening session.” He raises his eyebrows like he couldn’t possibly be more proud of his sneaking abilities. Making grabby hands, you feel his weight settle on top of you.

“So you spied on my listening habits? That’s pretty impressive technology navigation for a senior citizen.”

“I mean… they don’t call me a ghost story for nothing.” He says with a lighthearted chuckle. “Plus I’d watch all that senior citizen talk, missy. What does that make you?”

Bucky’s warm lips mold themselves to the contours of your neck making it difficult to think. “A harlot?”

He hums in response while marking you with another love bite. His hands roam to your breasts caressing them in earnest while pressing you back into the down duvet. His hand moves to the small of your back to hoist you up further on the bed, quickly settling his weight back onto you.

Despite the earlier fervor you both shared on the elevator, you’ve wordlessly communicated a temper of pace. His flesh hand cups your jaw gently as his tongue slips in to meet your own. All urgency lost, you allow yourself to savor Bucky. The now familiar scent of his body wash envelops you as you attempt to memorize his tastes and sounds.

Fingers trace and graze. Palms grip and smooth across planes and dips of one another's body. Your lips only separate to gasp needy puffs of air before diving back into each other; never wanting to be apart for long. Each article of clothing is removed reverently before the skin below is explored.

“Fuck darlin’-” He says stealing his lips away. His eyes are a vivid shade of blue but show no signs of hesitancy. There’s a subtle flush across his cheeks which matches the beautiful color the kissing has brought to his plump lips.  “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

You rise up to meet his lips again; gently pushing him off the bed before your hands move to the waistband of his jeans. The belt joins his other clothing strewn on the floor and you’re able to get the zipper down with far more grace this time. His hands settle on top of yours and you both push his jeans and underwear down together. He pulls you to stand and rids you of your final garments.

“You finally gonna let me have my turn, Buck?” He’s lying in the center of the bed stroking his length languidly; the mischievous grin you’ve grown to love makes an appearance.

“Doll, you know you don’t have-”

“I want to… so badly do. I want to.” You crawl up the bed and settle between his legs; kissing his firm thighs as you near your goal. “You’re not the only one who’s thought about this for a while, honey.”

“You been thinking about me during your alone time, doll?” He says folding his flesh arm behind his head as he looks down at you.

You’re certain there’s another snarky comment coming but it gets choked off in his throat as you lick him from base to tip. Knowing full well you have all evening, you set out to figure out what combination can draw those beautiful sounds from deep in Bucky’s chest.

A particularly strong moan followed by a choked breath alert you to a sweet spot. You continue to work the same pattern with heavier pressure; savoring the rhythmic tensing of his thighs in response. Bucky leans up slightly as if he’s going to tell you to stop; but you gently press him back down. He sighs deeply while pressing his head further back into the pillow; hips raising on their own accord, pushing him further into your mouth.

“Doll, I’m-”

He lets out a low growl from deep in his chest before he spills into you. You continue your motions; touching softer while adoring his little whimpers of oversensitivity.

“Sorry, darlin’. Didn’t give you much warning.” His voice carries a heady coarseness; indicating his post-orgasm state.  Kissing your way up his thighs, abs, and pecs you hum gently in his ear-

“Didn’t need one, sweetheart.” You kiss the shell of his ear before moving to his pillow soft lips for a deep kiss. “Besides, you’re not exactly subtle.”

He chuckles lightly and shifts his weight pinning you beneath him once again.

“As perfect as that mouth of yours feels, I’m not done with you yet, doll.” Your legs part wider allowing him to settle between them. Allowing him time to recover, you both kiss with renewed desire. His cock, previously semi-hard, stiffens once more. His hips roll and dip allowing his shaft to slide between your wetness. Each pass provides a delicious friction to your clit making you crave him inside you.

“You’re such a tease, Bucky.” You intend for it to be a stern warning but it comes out a desperate plea.

“Hush baby girl. It’s not teasing if I deliver on my promise.” On the last word he angles his hips slightly and pushes into you.

Having been acquainted with quick and dirty, you’re surprised how delicate Bucky is. His kisses seem to land on your body exactly where you crave them. The gentle glide of his cock against your walls stretches you deliciously; passionate and slow. Before, your release came on like a freight train. Now it’s as though he started a small fire and was stoking it with each push and pull inside you.

“Bucky! That feels so-” your words die into a whimper as the fire breaks forth and spreads like a wave over your body. You spasm and clench around his length as he continues to rut into you.

“I’m so close, darlin’.” He manages to last a handful of thrusts longer before he releases into you. He quieter this time but it seems his release is endless.

Bucky stills above you; barely supporting his weight as to not crush your form beneath him. He pecks your lips so softly before gently lifting off you.

“I’ll be right back, doll.”

You watch his firm backside retreat into the bathroom. Releasing a deep sigh you reach for your phone in hopes to update Natasha and Steve so they don’t worry about you. Bucky returns from the bathroom with a soaring belly flop onto the bed before he scoots up closer; burying his head in your neck. Distantly, you hear the stream of the shower he started in the bathroom.

“Watcha doin’?” He slurs lazily against your skin.

“Just updating Nat so she doesn’t come hunt you down.” you say chuckling.

“You’d defend my honor.” He wraps his arm around your waist pulling you impossibly closer to him.

Opening the message on your phone a flush starts to creep to your cheeks. You see a string of concerned messages from Steve, Sam, and Wanda wondering if you need consoling. Tony sent a rather inappropriate message asking if Barnes had “sacked up”.

At the top of your list you see Nat’s messages turn from positively frantic to utterly annoyed. The last one reading, “I’m home now. I can hear you sickos through the wall. He better be treating you good for me to endure this torture.”

You return back to the message threads debating who to respond to first; or if you want to respond at all.

You contemplation is interrupted, “Why am I in your phone as ‘Grumpy Barnes’?! How rude!”

Bucky apparently has woken up from his mini post-coital nap. You’re about to defend the name (blame Sam) when he launches a sneak tickle attack. Eventually you manage to wiggle free from his clutches and sprint to the awaiting warmth of the shower. Bucky walks in and soon has you wrapped back in his embrace.

The gentle caresses of his fingers up and down the wet skin of your body paired with the steamy mist from the warm shower have your eyelids feeling heavy. You lean your body back against Bucky letting him support you while he washes you in his body wash. You find so much comfort being surrounded by his scent.

“What do you wanna do now, doll?” You hum sleepily; the length of the day catching up with you. “How about we curl up, watch something on Netflix and crash? You nod slowly into his chest.

After drying off and ignoring searching for pajamas, you’re nestled amongst the pillows and comforter. Bucky pulls you close under his arm while turning on an episode of Twilight Zone at a low background volume. Your eyes flutter shut enjoying the warmth of his body pressed next to yours. It’s quiet but you hear him mumble something inaudible before sleep takes you both.

“Doll, I know I’ll never been the same Bucky I was before Hydra got ahold of me, but if the new version of me feels how I do now, I don’t think I mind.”

[trashayfanfiction]

1. Comfort zone: melancholy. angst. Tears. Suffering physically and emotionally.

2. Trope I want to try my hand at: Angsty highschool AU, but AU is hard for me.

3. Trope I wouldn’t touch with a 10ft pole? A/B/O sorry guys. I have squick for it. Give me all of the horrible rape, sex slaves, power dynamic/breeding kink and whatever, but don’t give me a biological hierarchy as to why it happens. (no kink-shaming if you do like it tho, but not my cup of tea)

4. I am nurturing...... 5 ideas? I”m doing RVBB, still the panic attacks fic, and yet another dead dove (but softer; less rape more angst this time)

5.Strengths: Introspection and internal conflict, portraying mixed feelings.

6. Weaknesses: External physical conflict. I can’t make a cohesive plot of physical things happening: I cannot write “adventure to gather all 7 dragon balls, fights along the way, we did the thing, the end”.

7. My favorite prose I wrote& why: ...I think I suck at prose. But ‘When She was Beautiful” An Ash’s Mother story https://archiveofourown.org/works/16004666

She was young. Fresh out of high school, when she met Jim at a country bar. She had a fake ID. In school they had called her a tramp, a harlot. It wasn’t true, even if she had the figure to put a porn star to shame. She was an attractive amount of tall and thin. Her curves were in all the right places. She’d had this figure since she was twelve.

The first time she did it, she was fourteen. He had asked. She protested. He kept asking. He did it anyways. It hurt. It was degrading. She grew used to it. It wasn’t rape. Eventually she liked that it was degrading; and would seek it out. This is what she was meant for, right?  She was a woman. She bled. This is what people like her were made for.

She was beautiful.

------I liked highlighting how the world saw her shaped how she viewed herself and justified (to her and those around her) what was done to her. I am trying to portray this critically and nuanced.

8. My fave dialogue and why: At Current I like this piece from Ch4 of ‘Fling” (Ash/Shorter)--- (Ash has suddenly ran away due to anxiety in the middle of what was suppose to be fun sex) https://archiveofourown.org/works/15768864/chapters/36680811

Shorter knocked on the locked bathroom door.

“Ah…. do you need a smoke?” He called, hesitantly.

“No! I don’t fucking need a smoke!” A quick response.

“Your pills are in the cabinet in there. You know, your anit-anxiety stuff-!”

“-I’m not sick! I don’t want my pills!!” Anger.

Shorter paused. Anything, anything to help. Anything to get his friend talking, “Do you want a sandwich?!”

A muffled scream of frustration, “I don’t need a fucking sandwich, Shorter! Leave me ALONE! I DON’T FEEL GOOD,”

“You’re not gonna like cut yourself and bleed out in my bathroom, are ya?” Humor, maybe? He hoped he was going for humor, but he was genuinely worried. Sometimes Ash flew off the handle…… Some of his other friends had done similar….

An exasperated exhale, “You know, I don’t fucking do that!” echoed through the door.

---- I like it because I think it portrays the disconnect Ash and Shorter have about what’s going on and lack of communication even though words are technically being spoken. Shorter wants to help, Ash isn’t letting him help and denying that there is a problem at all; thus resulting in more problems.

9. Hardest to write: The fic about Eiji’s reaction to Ash’s panic attacks that is still in production hell is my hardest. I don’t have anxiety, but I do try to help people with it. I want it to be an accurate representation, and attempt to be sensitive.

Also, my first Foxx’ rape fic was emotionally exhausting.

10: Easiest to write: ‘Fling’ I guess, I keep adding more to it because Ash/Shorter want to do more dumb things.

11. Writing is a fun hobby, I suck at writing. Writing is hard. I don’t wanna beta read enough to ever publish original content. Also, I like playing in other people’s sandboxes.

12. Episodes that inspire me: Neon Genesis Evangelion.... all that psycho babble.... yes. I’m here for it.

13. Best writing advice i’ve been given was by a friend who is a poet. Roundabout they told me; “You will never write something ‘good’, you will always write something better. Don’t worry about making it perfect.” They write with their emotions, so it vibes with me.

14. Worst writing advice I’ve come across: ‘Write everyday’ is horrible. It doesn’t work for me. It makes writing seem like a chore. I write when I am inspired. I will write a few sentences on a pre-started project when I am uninspired to help move it along, but ‘write everyday’ just tends to churn out a lot of garbage I didn’t learn from.

15. If I could choose a fic to be filmed? ....well, most of my fics are porn arent’ they. I think ‘Feelings of Loneliness” (Blanca+Ash post ending in the Carribean) would make an interesting art-house short-film. https://archiveofourown.org/works/17144981

16. Write one paring for the rest of my life? Well, I think we all know BF as a whole is what I’ll be writing on an off forever. ....Honestly I’m torn between saying I’d write ash/Eiji or Ash/Shorter. I never shipped Ash/Shorter until the anime fandom, but they might have a more interesting dynamic if I was to write them forever..... OOH, I SHOULD WRITE A FIC ABOUT ASH COPING WITH SHORTER DYING. I HAVEN’T SEEN ONE OF THOSE. oof. the angst

17. Do you write start to finish or do you write sentences out of order? .....I definitely write out of order. I write when scenes come to me, and then I fill in the blanks in-between. It’s difficult to understand my drafts, it’s definitely ADHD storytelling.

18. I do not use tools like worksheets/outlines, I do use a thesaurus because I have garbage vocab, and I’ve gotten into the habit of having beta-readers/feedback before I post. I sometimes look at ‘writing tips’ pages.

19. My muse is also ‘man who lives in his basement’. I am/was one of the punk street kids, and I observe the interactions that go on between them.

20. My perfect writing conditions are: home alone in my room, in my bed, cat not bothering me, new ‘fresh’ music playing that I’m vibin with and haven’t heard before but not so good it takes away from my concentration on a story. Usually after a hard day of work, I write about a story that was brewing in my head all day. Hopefully I don’t get distracted by social media: like right now....

[scarletraven1001]

Impasse - Chapter 9: Epilogue

The final chapter of Impasse.

Chapter warning: Fluff; Slight sexual content.

All Chapters:  1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9

Also on Ao3.

M-rated version on ff.net.

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I can’t believe it. My first Vegebul multi-chapter fanfic is over! I legit feel like crying, because I am so happy that I actually completed this fic. This story started just from a one-shot inspired by a cute little fanart that I found on tumblr, and has somehow turned into this story that helped me explore not just these characters, but facets of myself, as well.

Also, because of this story, I have met and interacted with so many wonderful people, have received amazing writing tips and inspiration, and I am really very, very thankful to all of you who liked, commented, kudos’d, favorite/bookmarked and reblogged this story. You all made it possible for me to push through and finish this story, so from the very bottom of my heart, thank you so much to all of you!

Let’s get on with this then! The final chapter of Impasse.

And as always… your feedback will be greatly appreciated!

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Chapter 9: Epilogue

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Bulma hummed a small tune as she drove, her shiny new periwinkle hybrid car gleaming as it sped down the highway.

She knew she was speeding just a tiny bit, but it was Friday, and she really couldn’t wait to get home that day.

She was bursting at the seams with excitement, dying to share her most recent discovery with the dark-haired man waiting for her at home.

She stopped at a red light, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel as she impatiently waited for the light to turn green.

The rays of the setting sun reached for her through her lightly-tinted car windows, bouncing off the shiny, intricately-engraved golden ring and its grander diamond-topped twin on her left ring finger.

She smiled, excited to see Vegeta.

Vegeta… Her husband.

It had been five years since she had met him, since she had first looked into the piercing eyes of the man she would later fall madly in love with.

Three years since he, at their annual office party, got down on one knee before her, and with the entire staff of Ouji Enterprises as their witness, asked her to become his wife.

It had been nearly two years since she walked down an aisle littered with blue flower petals, her bouquet of light blue roses and hydrangea clutched tightly in her hands, and promised her mind, body and soul to the only man she would ever cherish more than life itself.

He was truly the love of her life, and she was determined to make sure that he knew it, felt it, every single day…

Which was the reason why he needed to be the first one she told about her entire life’s most amazing discovery.

She slammed down on the gas, giddy as she saw the roof of their medium-sized mansion, nestled among the trees, smack down the border of the South and West Cities.

It was a strategic spot. It was only half an hour away from both of their places of work.

He at Ouji Ent…

And she at Capsule Corp.

Vegeta had taken it upon himself to help the Briefs reconcile. Several months after Bulma had admitted to the public that they were together following his car accident, he had pulled strings to, without Bulma’s knowledge, gain an appointment with Dr. Briefs.

They had spoken at length about her, him promising her father that he was going to look after her and be there for her, before he begged them to leave Bulma alone to find herself.

She had been livid about his interference, but he had simply said that he knew, deep down, that she still loved her family in spite of their issues… and she had nothing to fear from them now, as he would be there with her, standing with her, to keep her strong, all the way.

She had later gone back to her family home to speak with her parents, and with her hand in Vegeta’s warm grasp, she had looked at her father and mother…

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“I am happy. I am very happy right now. Vegeta,” she paused as she choked back tears, and he squeezed her hand in support. “Vegeta makes me happy. My job right now, makes me happy. And I don’t care if you think I’m a harlot,” she glanced at her mother, “for dating my boss. Because this thing between us is real.”

Her father had sat straight, brows knitted together as he responded. “Bulma... If you two are in love, then I am glad that you have found each other. Your mother and I… We are your parents, and we want you to be happy, dear.”

“Then I need you both to promise that whatever I do, you’ll be happy for me. I need to know that you won’t try to stop me from discovering more about myself, because as much as I am your daughter, I am also my own person,” she paused to glance at the dark-haired man sitting beside her. “Vegeta makes me happy because he supports me. He gives me my freedom and lets me have a choice. My life is up to me, and he has never tried to force or impose himself and his decisions on me. I need that kind of support from you two, as well.”

Panchy refused to look at Bulma as she spoke, her voice light and airy, but Bulma sensed the underlying seething in the blonde woman’s tone.

“You would abandon us for him? Your family who raised you, gave you everything you needed and wanted… just to prove a point?” Panchy asked.

Bulma gasped, utterly mortified as fury crawled through her veins.

She opened her mouth to reply, but a stern voice beat her to the punch.

“If I may interject, Briefs-san,” Vegeta spoke, pulling all of their attention to him.

His face and tone remained polite, nearly impassive, but Bulma could tell from the way his hand curled convulsively around her fingers, and his eyes had darkened in his barely leashed rage, that he had reached his boiling point.

“Bulma did not join Ouji to prove a point. She wanted to discover herself, find her own way. She is not abandoning you, but she had distanced herself from you because she needed room to grow, which is something that in your overprotectiveness,” he paused, his teeth grinding in agitation. “she was having a hard time finding. I cannot promise to be the perfect person towards her, but I can guarantee you this… with me, she will be free to learn all she can about herself. And I will stand by her. Because I cherish your daughter, as I am sure you do, as well.”

Her heart clenched, and she could feel his love for her enveloping her, giving her the courage to push forward and make her parents understand that she didn’t hate them, but she was done being a child.

She was a grown woman. A woman who had been lucky enough to find and fall in love with a wonderful man who, amazingly, loved her back.

“Please remember that it was Vegeta who wanted me to talk to you,” she said through gritted teeth, causing her father to wince, and her mother to blink. “I never would have found the will or desire to come here if not for him, so don’t suggest that he is the reason I have turned away... He is the reason, the only reason, I am trying to clear things between us now. I would prefer to have you in my life, but I will not hesitate to turn away again if you cannot accept that I am my own person, and the decisions about my career and personal life are mine to make.”

She stood, Vegeta following suit. As they made their way to the door, she turned back slightly as she remembered something else.

“By the way, Tights called a week ago. She and Kaito, Jaco’s father, are getting married. If you’d like to attend the wedding this fall, you know how to find her.”

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8-8-8-8-8

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That slightly disastrous meeting had led to further conversations between Bulma and her parents, until they had finally settled on a truce, on the day of Tights’ wedding.

However… it was not until after they had gotten engaged that Vegeta had asked her to think about going back to Capsule Corp.

He had known, before she herself had realized it, that she could never truly turn her back on CC, because she would wish to honor her father’s legacy and hard work.

He never pushed, only planted the idea in her head… but as a testament to how well he knew her, Bulma realized that he was right… she did want to eventually lead CC, but the problem she had before was that if she had just taken over the company at 21, then she would not have been happy because it wouldn’t have been her choice to do so.

She also knew that without any corporate experience, in spite of her genius, she would have surely run the company into the ground. She would not have had the chance to learn and grow, to develop strategies that could help her manage a corporation. Now that she had learned the ways of steering an organization from Ouji, she could seriously consider eventually heading their family’s company.

Vegeta truly did know her better than she knew herself.

Her father had been ecstatic when she called him to talk about Capsule Corp., but she had insisted that she first be assigned a lower executive position, until she felt confident in fully taking on the responsibilities of leading the company.

She left Ouji Ent. shortly before she married Vegeta. He had been very sad to have her leave the company, but he had been happy for her, knowing that her moving to CC was the start of yet another chapter in their lives. She joined CC as the Chief of Research and Development six months after their wedding.

Bulma’s life was going exactly the way she wanted it to, perhaps even better.

She turned into their large garage, grinning as she saw her husband already there, pulling open the back of his SUV, that she saw was full of groceries.

“Hey babe!” she greeted, carefully parking beside him.

He gave her an answering smirk, moving to meet her at the driver’s side, extending a hand to her. She smiled gratefully as she took his hand, easily hopping off the large vehicle with his help.

They walked to the back of his car, and Bulma snickered at the number of bags she saw.

“What’s all this?” she asked amusedly, eyeing the grocery bags he was unloading.

“Food.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ok, smartass. What kinds?”

He smirked. “Meat, some vegetables. A bunch of your Cheetos and coffee. I sent Kakarot out to buy all this.”

After Goku graduated, Vegeta had hired him as one of Ouji Ent’s purchasers.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not in his job description,” she grinned, pulling out some of the lighter bags to help her gluttonous husband take the food into the house.

“I am also quite sure he doesn’t mind, after he received that large bonus that I approved.”

Bulma’s smile widened. “Oh come on. You realize that the whole thing would probably be spent on his and Chichi’s wedding next month?”

He scoffed. “I am already paying for the wedding cake.”

“And that was really nice of you.”

“What can I say… you made me do it,” he groused as he heaved the last of the bags into his arms, heading for the door with Bulma in tow.

Suddenly he grinned, teeth gleaming with his lascivious smile. “I seem to remember that you had been… extremely persuasive that night.”

Bulma flushed, gaping as she stared at him incredulously.

“I- I- I didn’t-” she sputtered.

“That was an extra nice touch, the thing you did with the-”

“Vegeta!”

Vegeta threw his head back, laughing raucously in the face of her distress as he began walking towards the house.

Bulma ran after him, face red as a tomato.

“I did not do that to persuade you, you ass-”

“Whatever you say, woman,” he said as he pushed the door open and let them both inside the house.

The mansion was deserted, save for them and the security guards at the gates. All their housekeepers have gone home, as was usual for them every Friday evening. Their household help all had the weekends off, since Vegeta and Bulma preferred to have the entire house to themselves during the weekends.

It was also Vegeta’s chance to have Bulma cook his meals, as for some reason she really could not fathom, he absolutely loved her cooking.

It still puzzled her to high heavens, as she knew that her cooking was mediocre, at best. Nobody other than Vegeta seemed to like it.

She pouted as they went into the kitchen, where Vegeta dropped their bags onto the counter, teasingly placing a kiss on her cheek before turning from her to hunt down the TV remote. She smiled at his back, then started placing their food into the cupboards and the fridge.

It was a comically simple routine, but it was all part of Bulma’s domestic dreams come to life.

She shook her head at the sight of the cans of his Hetap energy drink, arranging them into the fridge as she heard the television blare to life in the living room.

“Bulma,” Vegeta called as he reentered the kitchen. “I almost forgot, Raditz said thanks for those CC shoes you gave Laura. Apparently, the kid loves them and refuses to take them off.”

“Oh that’s great!” she said brightly. “Launch told me that their little girl doesn’t like wearing shoes. I guess the new prototype soles we produced were comfy enough that Laura actually likes them. I’m gonna tell Marketing to complete their market research so we can mass-produce the shoes.”

She felt his thick, well-muscled arms snake around her waist from behind as she finished arranging the last of the groceries into the cabinets.

She lifted her hands up to grasp his as he rested his hands across her stomach, and their fingers linked together as she leaned back, turning her head slightly so she can gaze at him while he lowered his lips to kiss the side of her neck.

She felt the warmth of his lips contrast with the coolness of the golden chain around her throat as he moved up, leaving small nips and licks until she giggled, and he smiled as he moved so her lips could gently meet his.

She stayed in his arms, luxuriating in his heat, silently feeling him for a few minutes before she took a deep breath.

He felt her inhale, and he asked, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You seem a bit… anxious. Did anything happen at work?”

She smiled, raising a hand to stroke her crescent necklace, silently asking it for support.

“Nothing bad, but I did discover something very important today,” she whispered.

He pulled back, turning her so she faced him, before he wrapped her in his arms again, their hands resting on each other’s waists.

“What? Do you need help?”

“Well…” she started, smiling softly at him. “Not right now… but I will probably get a lot needier in the next few months.”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Her smile widened, before she lifted a hand, taking one of his…

And very gently, very slowly, laying it across her abdomen.

His eyes widened, hope and disbelief brightening his obsidian orbs as he stuttered at the insinuation.

“Bulma?” he breathed. “Are you saying…”

“I’ve been feeling a bit strange, so I did a test at work and discovered that… I’m six weeks along, Vegeta.”

“You’re… Bulma, you’re-”

“Yes!”

“You’re serious?” he asked, face flushing as he watched her smile, tears of joy filling the corners of her eyes.

She nodded. “We’re gonna be parents, Vegeta!”

“Bulma!” he exclaimed, his voice catching slightly as he said her name.

He pulled her close, lifting her off her feet in his excitement, and she laughed, holding him around his neck as he held her tight, his face buried into the crook of her neck.

He let her go, gently dropping her to her feet, as he began frantically asking if she felt ok, if there was anything she needed…

“Do you want me to call the housekeepers in? Do you want to sit down and let me make dinner? Do you want me to buy the actual moon for you?” he asked, and Bulma wasn’t quite sure anymore if he was kidding or actually serious.

“I’ve got my own moon around my neck, thank you very much,” she laughed. “And no… I can still make dinner.”

“Bulma, anything you want, let me know immediately,” he said, a huge grin splitting his face as he still held her loosely, unable to let her go.

“l will.”

“You have no idea, I can’t even tell you how happy you’ve made me,” he said.

She laughed as she watched him, his eyes glued to her stomach as he stared in wonder, no doubt already imagining the child that was growing within her right at that moment.

“I love you, Vegeta,” she whispered, and his sharp eyes flew to hers as his hands tightened their grip around her waist.

He leaned down, his soft breaths fanning over her cheeks as he lowered his lips to hers, giving her a heartfelt kiss that breathed life into her every cell, sustaining her heart, letting her feel how much he treasured her and everything they shared together.

He suddenly lifted her up, and not breaking their kiss, began walking out of the kitchen with her in his embrace.

She wrapped her legs around his waist as he deftly found his way into their bedroom, and he laid her down on the very center of their plush king-sized bed.

He held himself over her, his weight carefully on his hands and knees that surrounded her like a protective cage.

Her heart was in her throat as she stared at him, taking in every line and curve of his gorgeous face, as he lifted his left hand, stroking her cheek.

Her eyes strayed momentarily to the scars adorning his arm: the tiny one from their first night together, and the longer, harsher one from his accident.

Two scars that somehow brought them together, reminding her even more of the things they had endured to finally find their way to each other.

They had won.

“I love you, Bulma,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her again, and she felt him pour his entire heart and soul into the beautifully intimate contact as his fingers traveled down to undo the buttons on her blouse.

She pulled away from his kiss with a gasp. “What about dinner?” she asked, half-jokingly.

“That can wait,” he smirked, pulling her blouse open and eagerly cupping her soft breasts, making her moan.

As she surrendered once more to his touch, let him ravish her with his love, she couldn’t help but agree.

This overwhelming feeling of joy, that she needed to express to him in the deepest way possible, cannot wait.

Dinner could, until much later.

After all, they had plenty of time.

Together, they had forever.

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The end.

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Liked this story? Click here for my other fics!

[meridianrose]

Will TNT

A friend thought I’d enjoy this since we’re both fans of Da Vinci's Demons about young Leonardo. I wasn't put off but enchanted by the anachronistic music. I was enjoying certain aspects of it. This is what I wrote when they asked for my thoughts as approached the finale :) It’s a bit rant-y :P

Will - leaves his wife and kids presumably a woman he chose to marry to follow his dreams, barely sends them any money, is initially mediocre playwright, and is such a dumbass he doesn't dispose of the rosary before he gets to London nor does he hide the letter that could get him hanged. he doesn't seem that religious it's all familial duty, which is odd because he doesn't care about his wife. In fact he can't wait to start banging Alice. Ugh, fuck you Will and your "never been so happy". Bet that's not what you said at your wedding or when you had a son :/ This is why it's better Caterina Sforza wasn't in Da Vinci's Demons and there was no mention of Anne Hathaway in "Something Rotten". (Again I love only certain aspects but SR’s Hard To Be the Bard is fucking amazing)

Anne - is a far better wife than Will deserves.

Alice - knows he's married. Seduces him anyway. Twice. Says she doesn't want him to leave his wife then gets upset when she's called a whore. Also why is mostly undressed compared to every other woman on the show and how come she rarely does the dressing as a man thing after that one time? How'd she like it if man she loved dumped her later for younger woman? :/ Episode 7 had a lot of good stuff but then Alice starts getting involved in Catholicism. As if it's not heresy and as if Anglicism doesn't also baptise babies, I don't get the dreamy eyed look over the baptism. This is some Catholic worshipping bullshit and if she gets arrested it's her own fault. [she did get arrested, rescued, and then threw herself into religion even more wtf.] Gunpower had the same Catholicism/Protesant storyline (later than Will is set) and it didn't drag on this long. Also having Topcliffe be chief protestant and child molestor seemed unnecessary "kick the dog" moment. Anglicism and Catholicism are, especially to someone outside Christianity similar religions and from a modern perspective the Anglican church has made much more progress on tackling its deepseated misogyny and homophobia than Catholicism so I guess they want to be “poor precious Catholics being hunted by the mean Anglicans” or something but I’m not really interested.

ep 7 had some Alice&Richard conversation because that's a missed opportunity, they don't seem like brother and sister at all most of the time :/  [I love sibling relationships of all kinds and this was such a pity. Also I cheered when Richard punched Will in the face when he found out he’d been having sex with Alice.]

Presto (?) ugh, if he'd just stayed at the theatre when given the chance. Kind of tired of his anti-Harlots storyline. [Harlots is a better show for female representation!]

Richard - could just be shallow but he's got a kind heart and good hair, and a decent relationship with his comely wench :) Though he too has been sleeping around! [I'd now add OMG Richard, precious loyal compassionate baby!]

Marlow - tortured artist struggling with writer's block, faith, issues of sexuality. Hits my buttons. Why so little Will/Marlow interaction? Here also for potential Kit/Richard :P (also I was already starting to think about Kit fic. I fell for Kit hard and he deserves a post of his own for breaking my writer's block. Let me love you! I was not there for him seeming to be swayed, like Alice was, but totally there for somewhat truthful Gay Atheist Spy storyline!)

Amelia - she and Lord Fortescue were fun. She knows exactly who and what she is and how to use it to her best advantage, daring to play Titania on stag :) Also Will's landlady, liking her as a character. On the fence about Ellen, she doesn't want Alice to make the same "mistake" but she got to marry for love and slapping her daughter for wanting that choice :/  But Keenan the beer guy deserved someone who cared about him, so he probably had a lucky escape.

I was AGH about episode nine after I wrote all this but the finale was much better, Richard taking the stage to bring down the villian and Alice finally leaving with Southwell which could have made for a far better season 2 had the show been renewed.

All in all, like Da Vinci's Demons which at least got more seasons, Will was a fun anachronistic show that did best when focussing on characters (Will/Kit, Richard's growth) and less on out-there plots, and one I liked the potential of more than the overall execution, leaving me to write and enjoy fanworks more than the canon.

[ramajmedia]

10 Jokes From Frasier That Have Already Aged Poorly | ScreenRant

Now enjoying a bit of a renaissance due to the proliferation of streaming platforms, Frasier has seemingly increased in popularity since it went off the air in 2004. For eleven seasons, audiences delighted in the misadventures of radio psychiatrist Dr. Frasier Crane, his fussy brother Niles, their cantankerous ex-cop father, and their colorful friends and peers. It's been dubbed one of the most successful spin-offs of all time, and snatched an impressive 37 Emmys throughout its run.

Praised for its wit, complex writing, and intellectual humor, it remains a sitcom that is worth revisting. However, even with all its accolades, it still suffers from certain comedic handicaps from the era in which it was made. Certain jokes from the '90s have become trite and crass now, and some of Frasier's longest-running gags fall into that category. Without further ado, here are 10 jokes from the series that have aged poorly.

10 MEN WHO LIKE CULTURE ARE EFFEMINATE

On Cheers, Frasier was stuffy, aloof, and couldn't relate to his fellow man (which is what made his being a shrink all the more hilarious.) He was the antithesis to Sam Malone, relatable man of the people. When Frasier got his own spin-off, it was like a celebration of all things Frasier - culture, wine, gourmet food, etc.

And Frasier got mocked for it mercilessly, by his friends, family, and peers. Frasier (and his equally prim brother Niles) dared to embody a different sort of masculinity in the late 20th/early 21st century, one that could be determined by class and taste. It looks dated now to make fun of men you'd see dozens of at any Starbucks today.

RELATED: 10 Things Frasier Did Better Than Cheers

9 BEING A "REAL MAN" MEANS BEING MACHO

One of the big running gags on Frasier was juxtaposing Frasier and his brother Niles against their father, a working-class former cop and Korean War veteran. Martin Crane valued a certain macho attitude for its masculine properties — not taking any guff, and able to throw a punch at anyone who looks at you funny.

He was always embarrassed about how ineffectual Frasier and Niles were in schoolyard fights, a point brought up multiple times throughout the series. He wishes Frasier could be more like his coworker, "Bulldog" Brisco, and never truly comes to understand his sons for who they are.

8 EVERYONE TERRIFIED OF BEING GAY

There's a reoccurring joke throughout the series that Frasier and Niles are gay, due to their ability to dress well, their love of antiques and home decor, and their impressive knowledge of opera and theater. One episode is dedicated entirely to the new station manager at KACL going on a date with Frasier that Frasier doesn't realize he's on.

There's also the character of Gil Chesterton, who's mercilessly mocked, and said to be married to a very masculine female bodybuilder. And then there's Bulldog, who gets accused of being gay because he's so aggressive he must be overcompensating. The underlying ideology is that they'd all rather be anything than gay.

7 ANYTHING BLUE COLLAR IS PLEBEIAN

Through Frasier's perspective as a member of Seattle's elite class, we begin to see that he views anything blue collar as plebeian. He treats everyone from his building's handyman to the barista at Cafe Nervosa with contempt, and they're all depicted as completely inept, which gives his actions justification.

Niles joins him in making snide remarks, which are often at the expense of their father Martin and his simple taste for beer and watching TV in his duct-taped EZ chair. In today's current socio-economic climate, a series focused on this sort of snobbery could seem shallow and excessive.

6 EVERY IN-LAW BEING INSANE

In-laws driving protagonists crazy has been a joke on sit-coms for decades. From Meet the Waltons to Everybody Loves Raymond,  in-laws with a knack for getting under your skin have been a reliable goldmine for comedy, and Frasier was to be no exception.

But did they all have to be insane? When we finally meet Martin Crane's brother and his cleaver-wielding wife, the floodgates are opened to a dozen raucous Greek relatives. And when we get to meet Daphne's mother and brothers, their shenanigans are the stuff of nightmares. Luckily in today's series, you might get one screwball brother, not five.

5 ROZ GETTING SHAMED FOR HER SEX LIFE

Roz Doyle, Frasier's producer and call manager didn't keep her active dating life a secret. She went out with a new guy every week (sometimes more), and was never shay about sharing the details. In fact, it was because of her dating prowess that she had some of the best advice to give the lovelorn Frasier.

And was she appreciated for it? No. Roz was repeatedly shamed for "getting around the block" by Martin, Frasier, and especially Niles. The old trope of the town harlot is luckily a comedic figment of the past, as women in sitcoms today celebrate their sexual freedom.

RELATED: 10 Quotes From Frasier That Are Still Hilarious Today

4 NILES PERPETUALLY LEERING AT DAPHNE

While the slow-burning romance that developed between Niles and Frasier's housekeeper/Martin's physical therapist was one of the sweetest to come to fruition onscreen, it also has its roots in lecherous behavior. From the moment that Niles met Daphne in the first few episodes of the series, their interactions would be characterized by a litany of lewd behavioral patterns.

Niles, a married man, is constantly leering at Daphne, smelling her hair, and making crude innuendos. This is meant to be funny (and it is), but when we really look at the signs, it's incredibly disturbing, made more so by the fact that Daphne is just supposed to take it or fear getting fired.

3 BULLDOG'S CRACKS AT THE CHINESE RESTAURANT

Luckily there wasn't too much rampant racism on Frasier, but there are moments played for laughs that occasionally show the series as a product of its times. In one episode, Frasier is supposed to do an endorsement of a Chinese restaurant on his show but refuses to advocate a product he doesn't use.

Bulldog does the endorsement instead, and adopts the most crass "Chinese" accent you can imagine, complete with unsavory innuendos and finished with a loud gong. Surely no restaurant would be so desperate to get customers as to accept that garbage.

2 LIVING WITH YOUR PARENT AND UNABLE TO GET A GF

One of the biggest sources of misery for Frasier is living with his parent and being unable to get a girlfriend. He's constantly embarrassed by the crassness of his blue collar father, the blatant eyesore of his EZ chair, and the fact that it all hinders Frasier's ability to find love.

Frasier is the one who inhibits his own ability to get a girlfriend. Regardless of his living situation, it' s his own neurotic need to over-analyze things that destroys his chances at a functional relationship. In today's society, with so many young adults living at home (and yes, even into their 40s) as a means of economic survival, this seems trite.

RELATED: Frasier: 10 Hidden Details You Never Noticed

1 EVERY YOUNG PERSON BEING HORRIBLE

In its later seasons, the series had to deal with the fact that like its audience, it was aging. Did it stick with the same humor that had always worked, or start to add in some that might appeal to a younger generation? The solution arrived in the form of several young people as guest stars, all of whom were very tough to find likable.

There was the normally effervescent Zooey Deschanel as a bratty millennial. The character of Steve in the role of typical slacker teenager, and then by contrast, a few intellectual teenagers who were even more insufferable than Frasier. The running gag that the next generation had no redeeming members was odd considering the enormous popularity of Friends. 

NEXT: Frasier: 10 Hidden Details About The Main Characters Everyone Missed

source https://screenrant.com/10-jokes-frasier-already-aged-poorly/

[carterhaughs]

i just finished the last episode of harlots! what did you think of the ending?

I thought it was good and promising of so much more to come. I’m busy these next two weeks (at home with family and then at the beach) and don’t have the time I usually do to write reviews for the last two episodes like I typically do, but I WILL get to them. what I do is rewatch the whole episode again and analyze it as I go so it takes a while. 

looking back at the season as a whole (which I think is excellent and a cut above most “prestige” tv for all the reasons I’ve discussed in the past), the last 2 episodes seem a lot more rushed, particularly the finale. there was a lot I wanted to see that we didn’t get to see - Lucy and Charlotte don’t talk at all, we don’t get to see much of Emily even though the move she makes is a big one that’s bound to have big consequences, we don’t see much of Lydia’s reaction to her son leaving, Lady Caroline has a good scene but all the Haxby stuff feels didactic (which this show usually manages to avoid) and anticlimactic and underwhelming. A lot of the oomph was missing there. Charlotte and Margaret’s scene is great but a lot of the Daniel stuff doesn’t feel earned - it seemed like we’re meant to think he’s right about certain things in her life but we never see them actually discussing them - in eps 7 and 8, for example, he says that Margaret is “whatever she needs to be” and continues to urge Charlotte to desert her family which I understand on some level, but we haven’t seen him interact with them more than once and then only briefly - and we’ve never seen Charlotte and Daniel talk about them in any great detail prior to this at all. More should have been shown there in order for me to feel convinced that he has informed wisdom on the subject. Show, don’t tell. This is one of the few instances where I felt the writing wasn’t good, along with the whole “let’s flesh out Haxby then give him almost no screentime in the second half and make him a boring af 2D villain.” The latter was just a lack of imagination - it was always a possibility but why take it that direction when so many more interesting things could be done with that plotline based on how it was developed in the first half of the season, like what was done with Charlie Quigley’s for example? It’s still possible they could do something interesting with Haxby next season if he’s still around but after the back half of s1 I’m not optimistic. And I’m very worried about Harriet’s feelings for Will…love triangles always make me nervous, particularly when they involve black women. I want the writers to do right by Harriet, which they have so far, and I don’t want this to mess up her narrative and result in a negative comparison of her to Margaret or something.

I’m also surprised so many people think Emily will automatically become a mini-Lydia Quigley. Not only is that narratively reductive and essentializing in terms of her characterization (kind of like when so many people insisted Lucy would become a villain), but she’s 18 years old - let her grow up and come into her own a bit. She’s suffered directly at the hands of both Margaret and Lydia and received aid from Nancy, who directly followed her own philosophy of how to be a good bawd (even though she isn’t one) - “sustain and defend.” Emily will have to figure out how she wants to do that and will go her own way, but I doubt it will be without her advice, and Charlie is there to help her in his way I think. I’m very interested to see how they’ll develop individually and as business partners and perhaps (I hope!) romantically as well. People think she’s too cool and clever for him, but he really loves her and left the toxic protection of his mother’s house for her - and as Emily herself said, has “a big, kind heart.” There’s more to him than a lot of people are willing to admit, I think. 

I think the things I’m most excited about for next season are Emily’s rise to the top, Charlotte undercover and taking names, more backstory on Nancy and Margaret and Will, more Crosswell and its interplay with both Violet and Amelia’s lives, Fanny’s motherhood, more of Kitty’s business skills and getting to learn about her daughter, more of Harriet’s kids and sweet little Jacob, Lucy’s training as a dom, and a reconciliation between the Wells women and between Emily and Margaret. And I think we can reasonably expect all those things to get an excellent narrative treatment. I trust this show completely. 

[readingbank-blog]

How to Be a Spiritual Christian

And I, brethren, could not SPEAK UNTO YOU AS UNTO SPIRITUAL, but as unto carnal, even as unto babes in Christ.

1 Corinthians 3:1

Remember that the human being is made up of three parts: spirit, soul and body.  Any one of these three parts will dominate you and your entire life.  If your flesh dominates you, you are called a fleshly (or carnal) Christian! If your soul dominates you, you are called a soulish Christian!  If your spirit dominates you, you are called a spiritual Christian!  

It is much better to be a spiritual Christian than a carnal one.  It is much better to marry a spiritual Christian than a carnal Christian.  It is much easier to live with a spiritual person than a carnal person.  A carnal person goes by his feelings and feelings are very fleeting and dangerous to depend on.    

You must make every effort to go out of the carnal phase and become a spiritual Christian.  When you are spiritual, you are more influenced by spiritual things and your spirit man is more developed. To be spiritually minded is life but to be a carnally minded Christian is dangerous and deadly (Romans 8:6).

The following keys will help you to be a spiritual person.  When you are spiritual, people will refer to you as ‘that spiritual brother’.  It is a good thing when people refer to you as a spiritual person. People have a great respect for spiritual Christians because it is not easy to attain spirituality.  

1. Become a spiritual Christian by praying often.

Prayer will make you a spiritual person. Jesus said, “Pray lest you fall into temptation”. Prayer keeps us from falling away from God.  Anybody you spend time talking to becomes close to you.  In the same way, any Christian who spends time talking to God will become close to Him.  It follows that if you don’t spend time praying to God, you will be far from Him.  

This is how people fall in love with each other.  Many of us forget that if you continuously communicate with somebody, he or she becomes close to you.  You can unknowingly fall in love with a man or woman who is not your partner.  Spending time together with somebody makes you close, whether you intend to be close or not.  So when a Christian spends less time praying, he is unknowingly moving away from God.  When you pray, God gives you strength to overcome temptations.  He will strengthen you to do His will and you will not fall away.  

Many years ago, God knew I was going to experience a serious testing of my Christian faith so He woke me up early in the morning to pray.  Tongues were flowing out of my spirit like a river and I knew something was amiss, so I prayed the more.  I lay down on the floor and continued in prayer.  As a young Christian I was normally doing an hour a day in prayer, but this time I prayed for over three hours.  And that day I met a strange woman.  The Bible tells us about a young man in Proverbs who met a strange woman.  I had a similar experience.

And, behold, there met him a woman with the attire of an harlot, and subtil of heart.

Proverbs 7:10

I had no idea what this Christian lady had in mind.  But that day, I tell you my friend, God delivered me!  I believe my deliverance was very much related to the prayer time I had had in the morning.  I was very strong.  Where did that spiritual strength come from?  Where did the spirituality come from?  Jesus told His disciples to pray because they might fall into temptation.

The Lord gave me strength through prayer.  If you see a Christian who doesn’t pray, you are looking at a Christian who will fall into one temptation after another, until he is destroyed.

2. Become a spiritual person by seeking the will of God.

And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but HE THAT DOETH THE WILL OF GOD ABIDETH FOR EVER.

1 John 2:17

Only spiritual people seek the will of God. People who are not spiritual are not concerned about whether they are in the will of God or not.  Doing the will of God is a very clever way of living long and living a blessed life. ��He that doeth the will of God abideth forever. Staying in the will of God and seeking the will of God are very important for surviving as a Christian.  

As a minister I have learnt not to have a strong desire for anything in particular.  It can easily destroy your ministry.  Mind you, I also have desires, but they are subject to the Word of God in me.  The strongest desire in a Christian’s life should be for the will of God to prevail.

Do not sacrifice your spirituality for your human desires.  A spiritual person will sacrifice his personal desires so that the will of God will be done. Anyone who has a very strong desire for material things is not likely to become a strong spiritual Christian.    

3. Become a spiritual Christian by having a good conscience.

Holding faith, and A GOOD CONSCIENCE; which some having put away concerning faith have made shipwreck: Of whom is Hymenaeus and Alexander;  whom I have delivered unto Satan, that they may learn not to blaspheme.

1 Timothy 1:19-20

Your conscience is the voice of your human spirit.  That gentle nudging is the prodding of your spirit.  To be spiritual, you must be very sensitive to the voice of your own spirit.  The more you drown the voice of your spirit, the less spiritual you will become.  A good conscience is necessary to keep you spiritual.  Two church members, Hymenaeus and Alexander, put away faith and a good conscience, and thus, they made shipwreck of their Christian lives.  As long as we put our conscience away, we will have the capacity to do greater and greater evil until the day that we forsake God.

The conscience is the voice of that better component of a human being (whether a Christian or non-Christian).  It is the conscience of a man that tries to keep him from doing evil.  It is important to have a good and strong conscience (inner voice).  You can either have a strong conscience or a weak one.  Paul, the great apostle, said he had a good conscience.  He also revealed that he had always maintained a good conscience, even as an unbeliever.  

When our conscience becomes hardened, it is difficult for God to speak to us.  I have always tried to have a good conscience, because I know the danger of a hardened conscience.  It is this conscience which pricks me everyday and keeps me on course. When your conscience is gone, that element within you that can stop you from going far from God is also gone.  You are no longer touched by the anointing, by the Word of God, by the preaching or by the Holy Ghost.

Your conscience is like the palm of your hand.  Some of us have soft hands, whilst others have callous ones.  Your hands will become hardened, and the softness will go away as you do hard work with your hands.  In the same way, your conscience will become hardened as you continue to sin without repenting. When believers become indifferent to the promptings of God, it is a dangerous sign.

A pastor friend of mine whose entire family is saved except for one brother told me his story.  He related how his mother had taken his brother to so many Full Gospel breakfast meetings that he had become hardened. He had heard many different testimonies from several speakers but these no longer made an impact on his life.  Indeed, he knew when the speaker would make an altar call.  He knew what the next item on the programme would be.

Many Christians lie and their consciences do not prick them anymore.  Some of them can even invent false stories without batting an eyelid.  I have heard of pastors who say they preach best after fornicating.  The difference between these pastors and you is just a gradual process of hardening. You become harder and harder as you become used to sin.  Then at a point when you sin, you won’t be bothered anymore.

You can commit bigger or smaller sins depending on your conscience.  If you have a very sensitive conscience, the sins that you can commit will be ‘small’ ones.  But as your conscience becomes more hardened and more worn out, your ability to commit ‘wilder’ sins grows.  

Recently, I sat before a certain rich man, and I said to him, “You must be prepared to meet your God at anytime.”  He was with two of his wealthy friends.  He replied that he was not prepared, but he really didn’t care.  When you get to the stage where you don’t care whether you go to heaven or hell, then you are in danger.  Perhaps, when you were younger you cared, but you have become so hardened that you don’t care anymore.  

Every Christian needs to have a sensitive conscience.  Do not get used to sin.  Do not get to the stage where you do not care anymore.  Be sensitive to the little promptings of the inner voice, so you stay spiritual!

4. Become a spiritual Christian by having regular fellowship.

These be they who separate themselves, sensual, having not the Spirit.

Jude 19

Separation from other Christians is a terrible spiritual mistake.  It is people who do not have the Holy Spirit who separate themselves. Your spirituality greatly depends on fellowship. If there is a collection of hot coals in a pot, they stay on fire by stimulating each other. If you take one of the coals out of the pot and separate it, the fire in the separated coal goes down. This is what happens to your spirituality when you are disconnected from fellowship with other equally spiritual Christians.  Decide to be a spiritual Christian by having regular fellowship.  

Our world is made of unspiritual people who hate God. Almost every interaction with the world depletes you and lowers your spirituality.  There is no way you can maintain a spiritual life without continuous fellowship.  That is why we are urged to go to church and not forsake fellowship.  “Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is; but exhorting one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching” (Hebrews 10:25).

5. Become a spiritual Christian by not keeping company with sinners.

Make no friendship with an angry man; and with a furious man thou shalt not go: LEST THOU LEARN HIS WAYS, and get a snare to thy soul.

Proverbs 22:24-25

Whoever you associate with will have an impact on you!  The Bible warns us to avoid the company of angry people, lest we learn their ways. The reality is that you are always learning something from whom you are with. “Do not be deceived: Bad company corrupts good morals” (1 Corinthians 15:33).  

Your spirituality is greatly compromised when you move around with unspiritual people. Unspiritual people even make fun of spiritual Christians. Unspiritual people give you names and make you feel that you are overdoing things in your quest to be spiritual.  You will then feel uneasy when you want to pray or even refer to a scripture.  

I once fellowshipped with a brother who made me feel bad for sharing scriptures with him.  He told somebody that I had spent the afternoon preaching to him.  I was amazed at his description of my normal conversation.  A spiritual person will always speak about God and mention scripture. If the people you are with make you feel uneasy for reading your Bible or referring to it, you are with the wrong group.  If the people you are with make you feel bad for praying so long, then you are with the wrong group.  

6. Become a spiritual Christian by walking in truth.

Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth…

Ephesians 6:14

The belt of truth is an integral part of your spiritual armour.  Truth is a major part of your spirituality. A spiritual person is a truthful person.  Every time you tell a lie you remove part of your spiritual protection and thereby become less spiritual.  

To maintain your spirituality you must walk in truth.  The apostle John was so happy when his spiritual children lived and walked in truth.  

I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth.

3 John 1:4

Lies are a principal characteristic of Satan.  Satan is a liar and the father of all lies.  Any time you walk in deception and lying, you are walking into Satan’s domain.  Many Christians toy with lying.  Lying is so common with Christians because many Christians accommodate devils without knowing.  

Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do. He was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father of it.

John 8:44

My parents taught me never to tell lies and I think it is one of the greatest and spiritual treasures that they imparted to me. My mother kept telling me throughout my childhood that my father didn’t tell lies, so I was not supposed to tell lies.  As I grew up I found it difficult to tell lies.  Liars are in the same category as wicked people who shed innocent blood. ‘These six things doth the Lord hate…a proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood’ (Proverbs 6:16-17).

There are born again Christians who habitually lie through their teeth.  They lie to God and to man without batting an eyelid. Many people also do not like the truth.  They avoid people who speak plainly and truthfully about issues.  Jesus was not popular in the religious community and amongst the Jews because He spoke plainly and truthfully about the hypocrisies and deceptions of our human life.  This belt of truth holds the whole armour together.  Truth, honesty and sincerity are things that hold your entire Christian life together.  Without sincerity your Christian life will disintegrate.  

I remember being in a service once with some other brethren.  There was a young lady who had been prophesying and holding up the whole service for periods of time.  She would stand up whilst the leader was preaching, and interrupt the service with very long prophecies.  She would command the priest to stop the administration of communion.  This young girl would prophesy and make the entire congregation kneel down and stand up at will.

Many of the leaders were inexperienced, and didn’t know what to do.  So they would stand back as this young lady dominated the entire service.  I had been told about this young lady who had been controlling the meetings, but had never seen her myself.  That day, I realized that I was seeing the manifestation of an evil spirit. This young lady stood up and began to take over the service with her prophecies just as had been described to me.  So I got out of my seat, took a couple of brothers with me, and escorted her into the basement of the building.  I knew that an evil spirit was controlling this young lady.  As soon as we got into the basement, this young lady’s eyes widened and blazed.

She looked straight at me and said, “Do not quench the Spirit!”  I could virtually see the demons dancing in her eyes.  This almost unsettled me as I wondered, “Was I quenching the Holy Spirit?”  Then I said, “You foul spirit, in the name of Jesus. I command you to stop your activities and come out of this girl.”

She immediately went into all sorts of writhing movements.  The spirit began to manifest, spoke to us using the girl’s voice and said many things.  I cannot give all the details of this deliverance episode in this book.  However, there was one thing that struck me, which I want to highlight here.

I asked the demon spirit, “How did you come into this lady?”

That spirit said, “The belt of truth was loose.”

The demons had gained access to this young girl’s life because the protective armour of truth, sincerity and honesty was deficient in one way or the other.  I cannot tell you how exactly this girl’s belt of truth was loosed.  That is not important to you.  What is important is your belt of truth.

Are you honest?  Are you sincere?  When you make a mistake do you admit it easily?  Are you truthful to yourself and to God?  I tell you, there are many people who lie to themselves continually and tell themselves, “I am okay”, when they know they are not.  Do not deceive yourself!  Be honest and sincere!  Be straightforward!  Jesus said, “You will know the truth and the truth will make you free.”  Don’t be angry when you hear the truth.  It is the truth that you need.

by Dag Heward-Mills  

[everlasting-gospel]

New Post has been published on Present Truth

New Post has been published on https://presenttruth.info/assurance-of-salvation-december-2018/

Assurance of Salvation - December 2018

Salvation is a free gift that, when received by faith, will be manifested in a person’s life. “We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren. He that loveth not his brother abideth in death” (1 John 3:14). Faith is not seen, but a person’s works are a manifestation of it.

“But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead? Was not Abraham our father justified by works, when he had offered Isaac his son upon the altar? Seest thou how faith wrought with his works, and by works was faith made perfect? And the scripture was fulfilled which saith, Abraham believed God, and it was imputed unto him for righteousness: and he was called the Friend of God. Ye see then how that by works a man is justified, and not by faith only. Likewise also was not Rahab the harlot justified by works, when she had received the messengers, and had sent them out another way? For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also” (James 2:20-26).

Heaven would be hell for those who have not formed a relationship with Jesus. They would not be able to do all the so-called sinful pleasures of this world. Living a life with no sin is foreign to them. Many Christians believe sin cannot be overcome in this life. We are to have high moral values and have no part in unrighteousness. “Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness? And what concord [agreement] hath Christ with Belial? or what part hath he that believeth with an infidel [unbeliever]? And what agreement hath the temple of God with idols? for ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in them; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you, And will be a Father unto you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord Almighty” (2_Corinthians 6:14-18).

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How can a Christian adopt and live the principles set down by Jesus without appearing self-righteous, judgemental, hypocritical, or fanatical to a religious code? In everything we do, we need to express our love for Jesus and others. We should always be uplifting Jesus and His goodness to others, so they will be drawn to Him.

“Wherefore laying aside all malice, and all guile, and hypocrisies, and envies, and all evil speakings” (1 Peter 2:1).

“Who is a wise man and endued with knowledge among you? let him shew out of a good conversation his works with meekness of wisdom… For where envying and strife is, there is confusion and every evil work. But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy. And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace of them that make peace” (James 3:13, 16-18).

We must honor Jesus by what comes out of our mouths, and how we interact with others. The more time we spend in prayer and Bible study the more we will be like Him. We must live in the world at this time, but we do not need to live like the world. “No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon [riches]” (Matthew 6:24).

The world does not set the standards we need to live by. As Christians it is God’s standards we must live by. We must prove ourselves by His Word. Salvation is given to us by the grace of God. It is not anything we have done or can do to earn it. However, if we love Jesus we will want to live our lives the way He asks us to. “But we believe that through the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ we shall be saved, even as they” (Acts 15:11).

By the Son of God, “…we have received grace and apostleship, for obedience to the faith among all nations, for his name” (Romans 1:5).

We must examine our lives as to whether we are in the faith and walking according to Gods holy standards. Sanctification is a process we must be willing to be a part of everyday. God has a plan to cleanse our lives from sin. We do not want to find ourselves as somebody Jesus rejects or castaway. “Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the faith; prove your own selves. Know ye not your own selves, how that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be reprobates [rejected]?” (2 Corinthians 13:5).

How to Keep Eternal Life

Animals walk by sense, sinners walk by sight or their own reason. Christians walk by faith and by God’s Spirit. “For we walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7). “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit” (Romans 8:1).

A Christian puts Jesus above all else. “And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name’s sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life” (Matthew 19:29).

After repentance and justification, we need to abide in a relationship with Jesus Christ. Those who do will have eternal life. “That being justified by his grace, we should be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life” (Titus 3:7).

“And now, little children, abide in him; that, when he shall appear, we may have confidence, and not be ashamed before him at his coming. If ye know that he is righteous, ye know that every one that doeth righteousness is born of him” (1 John 2:28, 29).

You might say I cannot become holy or perfect. But Jesus said, “For with God nothing shall be impossible” (Luke 1:37). We need to be confident in God that He can finish the work of sanctification in our lives. “Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:6).

The Ten Virgins

“Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom. And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them: But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him. Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out. But the wise answered, saying, Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves. And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut. Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not. Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh” (Matthew 25:1-13).

All ten virgins slumbered and slept. But when the midnight cry was given only five of them were ready. Only five of them had enough oil. They were the ones who were concerned for their salvation and walk with God. They were the ones who had a daily relationship with the Saviour. The five virgins who didn’t have enough oil were careless with both. Maybe they only had a once-a-week relationship with God, or only called on Him when they were in trouble or a crisis. They both were advocates for the truth and were attached to those who believed the truth. The main difference is they didn’t have the Holy Spirit in their lives, so their head knowledge did them no good. Think about this: fifty percent of those who professed to believe didn’t make it to heaven. Jesus gave a talk about these people.

“Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven. Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity” (Matthew 7:21-23).

We are saved by the sacrifice that Jesus made in our behalf. We have to only confess our sins and invite Him into our lives. Our debt is paid, but this does not give us a license to continue to live as devils, but instead gives us the privilege to live godly.

  (This study was written by a prisoner in Oregon. I pray it is a blessing. Editor)