#extreme shout out to the person that made from humble beginnings

[mrmosseater]

do 2dace fans still exist out there hello

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

thistle, part one

a/n: I'm posting the next part in a few days, so you won't have to wait too long to find out what happens next ♡

summary: “A title that’s been true since the moment I was born, but there are also a few others that are just as real. I am a son, I am a brother, I am a soldier. I am still the exact same person you spoke to only yesterday. I haven’t changed one bit, so please don’t act like I have. Please, at least call me James.”

warnings: James Potter x reader, royal au, prince!James, servant!reader (lady's maid), forbidden romance, secret relationship, historical au (beginning of the 1920s), references to WW1, surely extremely historically inaccurate but this is just for fun, lovesick!James, weapons, grief, death, smut, kissing, attending a ball, dancing, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cockwarming, oral

word count: 6148

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Marching up to the bespectacled man exiting the stables, his clothes all ruffled and dirtied from the ride he’d presumably just taken on this drizzly day, “excuse me, sir?” he slowed his trek at the sound of your soft voice, turning his head to look at you in surprise, “do you know the way to the servant's entrance? I seem to be a bit lost.”

“Um, yeah,” he blinked a second, taken aback by your question as he gave you a quick once over, “it’s just down that path,” he pointed towards the east side of the castle, “green door, can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, tightening your grip on your suitcase and began to move in that direction. 

“Are you new here?” he asked swiftly, halting your movements. 

“Kinda,” you said, “I’m the queen mother’s new lady’s maid.”

“Oh,” a genuine smile bloomed on his face, “I didn’t know grand-, I mean, her majesty Delilah was coming for a visit.” 

“Well, I’d imagine you as, I presume, a groundskeeper,” you guessed, squinting your eyes at the helpful stranger in front of you, “isn’t exactly first on the list of people who need to be notified of such things.” 

Choking out a small chuckle, neither confirming nor denying your guess, he simply glanced down at his muddy boots, “yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Looking back over your shoulder at the large castle looming over you, “I’m sorry, but I should really get going. Her majesty likes to freshen up quite a bit after a long trip such as this.” 

“Oh, yeah,” he exhaled, clearly not ready to part ways yet, “you go take care of that, I’ll see you around.”

“See you!” you shouted over your shoulder as you made your way towards the discreet green door. 

“That’s pretty,” a smoky voice from out of nowhere made you jump and promptly stop your soft humming, dropping the small bouquet of wildflowers you had picked but a moment ago. Turning to see who else could be out here in the forest, you spotted the helpful figure from the day before, leaning against a tree.

“Jesus! You gave me a fright!” a hand came up to clutch your chest. 

“Sorry,” he smiled, shifting the bent hunting rifle that rested over his burly forearm. 

“It’s fine, no harm done,” you exhaled slowly, “just need to make my heartbeat understand that as well…”

Watching as you momentarily bent down to pick the dropped flowers off the forest floor, “you out on a walk I presume?” he pushed off the tree and stepped closer.

“Yeah, well,” you rose back up, “the weather finally cleared up, so I thought a bit of fresh air might do me well,” you said, gliding one of your cold hands down into your coat pockets, “plus I’ve heard so much about the grounds here, I wanted to see them for myself.” 

“They are quite something, aren’t they?” he smiled warmly down at you. 

Feeling heat begin to rise in your cheeks from his unwavering glare, you coughed lightly and glanced down at the humble bouquet clutched in your grasp, “and, um, you’re-”

“Hunting,” he filled in before you could manage to finish your guess.

“Oh, am I getting in your way?” worry filled your voice, imagining that bullets could start flying over your head as soon as a bird flew by, “is it safe for me to be out here? I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware-”

“Nah, you’re good,” he waved a reassuring hand, “I split up from the others a while ago and then when I heard you, I wandered even further away from the rest.”

“You followed me?” he noticed your eyes flicker down towards the weapon he was carrying. 

“I-, oh god,” he winced, scrunching his expression up in regret and bowing his head, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I am a stranger to you with a deadly firearm, not a harmless bunny rabbit,” you could literally see the imaginary whip he was punishing himself with, “I’m sorry I scared you, I’ll just go-”

“No!” flew out your lips before you had a chance to think, “It’s fine, you can stay if you want.” 

Gazing into your eyes a moment, he then exhaled, “thank you, miss.” 

“Y/l/n,” you told him, “my name is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Y/n,” the corners of his lips curled up as he tasted your name on his tongue. 

“And your name?”

“James,” he said, then stressed, “just James.”

James… like the youngest of the two princes? You shouldn’t act too surprised; it was a common enough name after all. 

“Can I ask you something?” he spoke as you wordlessly agreed to go for a stroll together among the birch trees.  

“Sure.”

“How long have you been the queen mother’s lady’s maid? It’s just, I remember her previous one, the one she had before the war, and I feel like I would have noticed when you came along.”

“It’s been about 6 months now…” you answered rather sombrely. 

“You don’t sound pleased about that.”

“No,” you glanced in his direction to underline your statement, “I love the job, don’t get me wrong, it’s just-,” you choked on the bitter fact and opted to say, “it’s complicated.”

“Is it too complicated for a man like me to comprehend?” he offered with a gentle smile. 

Letting a low sigh flow out, you spoke, “that previous one you remember?” he nodded in confirmation, “that was my mom.” You tried to ignore how your bottom lip began to quiver, “she had me out of wedlock and later in her life, so not many people knew about me. But her majesty Delilah did. She’d always been very fond of my mother, so she let me grow up there at Cudworth palace. She-,” you let out a shaky breath, still finding it difficult to vocalize, “she became ill a few years back, so her majesty made the decision to let me inherit the position. Made sure I was set up for a good life, I guess… My mother trained me for as long as she could till I was nothing short of flawless. It’s been 6 months… 6 months with the job and 6 months without her…”

“Yes, I think the sapphires will do quite nicely for tonight,” Delilah purred as her weathered fingers brushed over the jewellery spread out in a presentational fashion on the vanity she sat at. 

Wrapping a silver lock around your finger, you carefully pinned the last piece in place, securing her intricate updo. Glancing at the finished product in the reflection, you then agreed, “sapphire it is,” plucking the precious stones off the doily-clad table and gently adorning her earlobes with them. 

“Beautiful work, dear,” Delilah gave your hand a small pat as you secured the last earring, momentarily catching your eye in the mirror. 

The dragon lady. That’s what people called her. Though, through all of your life, the intimidating queen mother had been nothing but kind to you. It was clear that she had a soft spot for you, though you’d never dare to confirm that suspicion.

“Thank you, madam,” a soft smile quickly warmed up your features as you checked her hair one last time, “I hear the prime minister will be attending dinner tonight.”

“Oh, well, I guess I couldn’t avoid him forever. Hopefully, they won’t seat him beside me this time, it was so awfully boring last time, kept on talking about cricket.” 

“Could always be sneaky and pretend that you can’t hear him,” you suggested with a sly grin. 

“Wouldn’t that be something,” her crow's feet framed eyes glinted with a youthful mischievous glow. 

Your shared giggle was interrupted as the door to her champers creaked open. Turning to look, you saw none than your helpful stranger.

“Grandma,” James simply sauntered in as if he owned the place, “I was wondering if you could-,” both his words and his brisk pace fell short as he spotted you, “oh, hi,” your presents promptly brought a fluttering smile to his lips. 

Just as you were about to speak up, your eyes wide enough to burst at his audacity, Delilah bellowed, “good lord, James, it’s been enough time, you really must shred that army brashness and start entering a room the way you were raised to. This is not a war room, it’s the castle’s peacock suite!”

“Right,” he chuckled lightly, his eyes never staying on his grandmother for long before flickering back to you, “sorry granny.”

Why was the groundskeeper referring to the queen mother his grandmother? It couldn’t be because-

“Y/n,” Delilah turned in her comfortable chair, “I don’t think you’ve been acquainted. This is my dear James,” she presented with an outstretched arm, “the youngest of my two grandsons.”

Swiftly averting your flabbergasted gaze, you curtsied timidly and gasped, “your highness,” your terrified eyes darting across the Persian rug. 

You’d only gotten to know the prince’s likeness through old paintings of him as a child. The battle-scared man standing before you now looked nothing like the bespeckled young royal captured in the portrait you’d passed countless times before. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you miss,” he smiled warmly, bowing his head slightly at you in return. 

“Now,” Delilah reached for her cane and slowly pushed herself up to her feet, “what was it you needed?” 

“Yeah, um,” he thought for a second, seeming awfully distracted, “it was-… I’m sorry, I completely forgot what it was.”

“Well, maybe you’ll recall during dinner, my boy,” she slowly moved towards the door, “shall we go down?”

“You go ahead,” James gesticulated, “I just need Y/n to send a message down to the kitchen for me. We wouldn’t want them to hold back on the wine now that prime minister Ferrell is joining us.”

“Oh, bless you,” Delilah grinned before disappearing out of the room, “that’s why you’re my favourite.” 

Closing the heavy door behind the former monarch, James gently grabbed you by the elbow and guided you further into the room. Preparing yourself for the worst, you immediately promised, “I’ll go relay the message at once,” your head still bowed, not daring to look him in the eye. 

“You don’t really have to, I already sent word down an hour ago. I simply said that to get a moment alone with you,” he lowered himself in an effort to catch your cautious gaze, “Y/n,” breathing out your name as if it weighed a ton, “would you please look at me?”

Only momentarily flickering your eyes up to meet his, you blurted out, “forgive me, your majesty, I swear I didn’t know,” your heartbeat was so strong you could hear it pounding in your ears, “I would have never spoken to you in that manner if I knew who you were!”

“Please do not apologise,” goosebumps bloomed on your skin as you felt his fingers briefly caress your arm, “I was so grateful that you didn’t just stiffen up like everyone else, you talked to me like any other man. So, for that, I thank you and beg you to please not change it now that you know.”

“What? I-I couldn’t do that! It isn’t proper, it isn’t right!”

“Why not? You did it before.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were a prince before.”

“A title that’s been true since the moment I was born, but there are also a few others that are just as real. I am a son, I am a brother, I am a soldier. I am still the exact same person you spoke to only yesterday. I haven’t changed one bit, so please don’t act like I have. Please, at least call me James.”

“Your majesty, I couldn’t.”

“Why not, Y/n? It’s just my name, it’s not gonna bite you, didn’t before and I promise it won’t start doing it now.”

“Thomas,” king Fleamont glanced up from his papers to address his eldest son, “we’ve invited a few eligible ladies for tonight. Please actually talk to them this time, don’t just sulk in the corner with your brother.”

“Christ,” James' brother groaned, “papa, I thought this ball was just a little get-together now that granny is in town. Must I truly have to be paraded around every chance there is?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to find a wife, yes,” his father said sternly, then returned his attention to the crisp newspaper.

Grumbling, Thomas slumped back, huffing beside his brother on the tufted couch, “let’s hope they at least push their tits up to the heavens above,” he muttered under his breath for only James’ ears to receive, “that might make it tolerable.”

Chuckling at his sibling’s pout, James then suggested, “since this is for grandmama, why don’t we extend the invitation to Y/n?”

Furrowing her brow over the small fluffy dog in her lap, Euphemia questioned her son’s bold idea, “who’s that?”

“Granny’s lady’s maid,” his words awoke a severe expression to all but one of his family member’s faces. 

“Why that’s a wonderful idea, James!” Delilah cheered, “she does indeed deserve a bit of fun.”

Leaning in closer, Thomas hissed in his brother’s ear, “have you gone quite mad? A servant at a ball? Look at a calendar, brother, it isn’t December yet.”

“She isn’t that bad,” James defended, a storm quickly brewing in his chest, “plus, you know, granny’s not that young anymore, it might be a great help for her to be there as support. Just as a precaution.” 

“But I have nothing to wear!” you protested, “I didn’t bring a gown, let alone own one.”

“I know you don’t,” Delilah said calmly, not taking any of your blubbering to heart, “that’s why I had a few maids go through an old trunk of mine that I never brought with me to Cudworth,” she snapped her finger at the butler in the corner as he swiftly presented the dusty box he was balancing, “you are gonna wear this,” the top slipped off and you caught sight of the most stunning lavender beaded gown you’d ever beheld in your entire life. 

“Your Highness,” you marvelled at the way it sparkled in the low light, “I can’t wear that.”

“I know it’s not the latest fashion, but it’ll do a lot better than that frock you’ve got on now. I only remember wearing it once at a ball back in 1861.”

“I-…” you tried to protest, though nothing came out. 

“Y/n, this is not a proposition, you are gonna wear that gown and that is final.”

“God, this soiree is even more ghastly than the last one,” Thomas glanced back over at the cluster of young women fanning themselves and batting their luscious eyelashes at the eligible heir, “you think people would notice if we sneaked off?”

Ever thankful that he didn’t receive the same level of unyielding attention, James cocked his brow at the man half-heartedly attempting to hide behind him, “I don’t think that’s an option, brother,” then snatched up two tall flutes of stary bubbles and handed one off, “here, have another glass of champagne.”

“Thanks, but I’m gonna need a lot more in order to survive the 12 dances I've been swindled into later tonight,” he pouted and took a large gulp. Just then, as the crown prince swallowed down the stinging carbonated beverage, he caught sight of the figure that appeared at the top of the wide staircase. “Wait,” he elbowed his brother, ushering him to glance in that direction, “who’s that?”

Recognising you immediately as you timidly ascended the grand steps, clutching onto the side of your lilac dress, lifting it off the tile so as to not have to trip over it, James uttered through his growing smile, “that’s Y/n,” and nothing whatsoever could stop his unwavering gaze.  

“Really?” he scoffed, “that’s the scullery maid?”

“That’s her…” James replied dreamily. 

“I gotta admit, in that dress, you could almost mistake her for a real princess.”

“Yeah…” James uttered softly, not hearing a word of what he had just agreed with. “Hold this, will you?” without looking, he handed his glass off to his brother and left his post as the crown prince's unofficial shield. 

“James!” Thomas hissed, standing there in alarm, one glass in each hand, not sure if he should follow or not, “where are you going? Don’t leave me alone! I’ll be swallowed whole!”

Catching sight of James’ determined approach, you let out a deep and shaky exhale. 

“Y/n!” he smiled, coming to a jovial stop right in front of you, ignoring every merry man trying to catch his high-regarded attention. 

“Your highness-” you started, but his voice cut in, breaking your greeting in half. 

“James,” he corrected you, the glint in his eye promptly sending a shiver down your corseted spine.

“Good evening.”

“I hope it’s not too forward of me for saying this, but you look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

Your breath got caught in your throat as you blushed over his honeyed words, “thank you, your highness. Though I wouldn’t dare take any of the credit, this was all your grandmother’s doing. This is actually one of her old dresses,” you glanced down at the elegant gown, carefully playing with the skirt and presenting it. 

Looking over the fabric just as you did, his earnest words nearly didn’t catch your ears, “I wasn’t complimenting your dress…”

Blinking up into his warm eyes, you found yourself speechless, clueless of how to respond to such flattery by someone of his stature. 

“Would you care for a dance?” he asked unexpectedly, evidently not caring about the improper nature of the request, and looking at you as if you were the only person in the entire ballroom. 

“That’s very kind of you, your majesty, but I’m afraid I would just embarrass you,” you averted your gaze, “you see, I don’t know how.”

Briefly glancing back at his parents, checking to see if they were watching, James then grabbed your hand, it seeming so small and dainty in his, and uttered, “come with me,” discreetly guiding you out into one of the vacant side chambers. 

Following his lead, looking back over your shoulder in fear that someone might notice, it calmed you ever so slightly to see that everyone else was entirely enraptured by the dazzling event. 

Shutting the door behind you, his hand still holding yours, he gently turned you around to face him once more. Hearing the string quartet still loud and clear through the walls, the prince smiled, “so, miss Y/l/n,” asking you once more, now in a more private setting, “may I have the honour of this dance?”

Lifting the back of your hand up to give it a small peck, eye contact never wavering, you answered, “the honour would be mine,” blinking up at him through your lashes, “yes, yes you may.”

“Okay, so you just put your left hand right here,” he grabbed it and slid it up, past the many shiny medals adorning his chest, to rest upon his broad shoulder, “and keep the right one where it is,” you inhaled sharply as you felt his free palm slide into place on your waist.

“A-alright,” all the hairs on your body stood up at the intimate proximity, “and now?”

Your right hand entirely engulfed in his, he glided his thumb over it, delicately swiping over a few of your fingers, “now you just let me lead,” noticing how your jaw clenched, he reassured you, “don’t worry, love, it’s easy,” you felt your tense muscles begin to relax a bit at his deep soothing tone, “I’ll do all the hard work, you just trust me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a small nod as he gently began to move, taking you with him as he fell into the song’s rhythm as if it was second nature to him. 

Simply swaying softly at first, it didn’t take long before he had you flowing to the music, slowly making your way deeper into the room, dancing further away from the lines of light the closed door cast. 

When you eventually felt him gain more confidence and move your body around freely, you followed the instinctual reflex to briefly glance down at your shoes. Feeling his hand let go of your waist momentarily, he whispered, “don't look at your feet,” and lifted your chin up so you could meet his gaze, “look right here.” 

Letting his finger drop back down into place, you felt his palm move and slide around to your lower back, drawing you in just a little bit closer. Feeling yourself disappear into the warm eyes veiled behind his spectacles, completely enraptured by his being and entranced by the way he moved you, you felt his hitched breath hit your skin as he leaned in close enough for your lips to graze against each other. 

But just as your eyelids fluttered close in anticipation of his eventual touch, the sound of the door, now a good ways away, creaking open halted your dance at once. 

“James?” you heard the crown prince call out, music now more vibrant as it didn’t have to travel through walls anymore to reach your ears, “you in here?”

Acting quickly, James pulled you around the corner and settled you into the little alcove there, pushing you up against the plate mail stature decorating the small corner and cloaking your figure with his own. His bulky frame swallowed nearly all of the starry light streaming in from the tall windows scattered around the chamber, causing you to be able to see him and only him. 

“Seriously brother, you have to get out here before pa realises that you’re gone!”

Disregarding his sibling’s warning, James stood his ground, completely enraptured and sharing your breath as he pressed himself up against your voluminous gown. You weren’t sure if it was because of the proximity or if your fingers simply followed the magnet calling them, but you found yourself pressing your palms against the silky fabric of his detailed jacket, feeling his taught abdomen expand with every shaky breath. 

Dilated pupils flickering down towards your lips, you found your own mirroring his, fearing that you might faint in the intensity of it all. 

His lips pressed against yours before you even had the chance to fathom that it was actually happening. The prince was kissing you. His lips were brushing against yours not in curiosity, but in genuine yearning.  

“Come on James, stop messing around, I know you’re in here!”

A small string of saliva followed as James reluctantly pulled back, thumbs brushing over each one of your cheeks as he stared deeply down into your hazy eyes. 

“Come to my room at midnight,” he whispered breathlessly, restraining himself to dive back in. 

“Your highness, I-”

“Please,” he interrupted desperately. 

You didn’t give yourself another moment to think before giving him an answer, being completely spellbound, you uttered, “yes.”

And with a bright smile, he let go of you and backed away, still staring as you had to reach out for support against the wall in order to not tumble back against the ornamental armor. 

“Just hold your horses, Thomas,” he called out to his frantic brother, eyes still locked with yours, “I’m coming!”

Hearing the rapid beating of your heart thumping in your ears, you let out a shaky breath. It took you a long moment to finally mustered up the courage and let your fist come into contact with the prince’s door. 

Almost instantaneously was it ripped open as if James’ fingers themselves had already been mere inches from the silver knob, impatiently lying in wait like a lion on the hunt, the action was so swift that it startled you. 

Face lighting up as he saw you, nervously standing outside his chambers, he promptly grabbed onto your wrist and pulled you inside. 

As the door shut behind you, “h-hi,” you offered him a meek smile and stood in the dim room as if it was a china shop. 

Elatedly biting down on his plump bottom lip, he echoed, “hi,” sliding his fingers down to weave through your own. Using the hold as leverage, he gently pulled you in closer, his other palm ready to catch your cheek before confidently pressing his lips against yours. 

When he momentarily pulled away, you squeaked, “your majesty-,” hindering him from taking your lips once more.

“James,” he corrected you breathily, keeping his eyes shut and nuzzling his nose lightly against yours. 

“James…” you tried to keep your head levelled, “what am I doing here?”

“What do you mean? Do you not want to be here?” he took the hand still enveloped in his and pressed it against his chest, “here, with me?”

“I…” this was wrong. The list of punishable things to stray away from in your line of work was extensive, but this one was certainly at the top, “James…”

“Christ, that sounds good coming from your lips,” he groaned, seizing your lips again and flexing his fingers on the side of your head, lightly messing up your primly pinned hair. 

Feeling yourself melt under his touch, the kisses began to wander, scattering down your goosebump-ridden neck. 

“We…” your breathing was heavy and ragged, “we can’t… What if someone finds out?”

Pulling back, he gently shook his head, “they won’t,” dark eyes boring into your very soul. 

“But I can’t-… Y-you’re-…”

“I?”

“You are-…”

“I am just me… Just James,” he stared down at you, begging you to stay. 

“But-”

“I am yours,” he promised you earnestly, a hint of fear glinting in his golden eyes, “I am all yours.”

Choking down a sob, you then found yourself pulling him down for another kiss, letting his overwhelming vow sink in and dim that warning light pleading you not to venture any further. 

Soon clawing at the silky fabric of his jacket, your fingers caught in the two rows of shiny buttons, restraining yourself from just ripping them clean off. Letting out a quiet whimper as James suddenly detached from you, taking a step back, gazing down at your heaving form, not giving in as you reached out for him to return. 

Eyes fixed, his own fingers slowly found the buttons along his torso and began to undo them. Tilting his chin up, he watched you closely as he carefully unveiled every inch of himself to you. Moving your fingers up to mirror his actions, he swiftly spoke up, “wait, let me do it,” stopping you before you’d truly begun, “please.”

The wish made you suck in a breath in anticipation, slowly lowering your hands back down to either side of your skirt, clutching onto the heavy lavender fabric for support as you gave him a small nod. 

For a moment, you thought he was gonna bear it all to you right then and there, perhaps he did as well, but his fingers stilled right at the waistband of his underwear when only they remained. Blinking sluggishly as you tried to take in his breathtaking visage, in what felt like a millisecond, James had moved to be back into your proximity. Walking around to stand behind you, his fingers then began to work at the numerous buttons and laces, freeing you of the unusually extravagant ensemble. 

You hadn’t even noticed how you’d stopped breathing till his lips pressed against your exposed shoulder and let the first layer fall. 

Little by little, the weight you carried was lightened as he tossed more and more fabric to the cold floor, creating quite the poofy puddle. When the corset fell off, James quickly replaced the stiff restraining item with his large warm palms, feeling your waist through the last thin layer remaining, inhaling deeply against the back of your neck. 

Gently turning you around, he slid his hands up your sides, promptly lifting your arms to stay above your head. Not dropping his eyes from yours, he glided fingers down to gather up the material of your delicate chemise, only lifting it over your head when the whole length of it was bunched up in his fists. 

Not being able to wait any longer, you let your arms fall, draping them around his broad shoulders and pressing your bare body up against his, the palpable tent in his briefs twitching against your stomach at the contact. 

Kissing him deeply, you nearly didn’t register when he scooped you up into his arms, the action seeming so effortless for the prince. Thighs enveloping his hips, it was first your heel that attempted to rid him of his last remaining clothes, though when it only worked to push them an inch off his hips, you impatiently dropped a hand down to yank them down the rest of the way, letting him step out of them as his slow stride closed in on the plush bed on the opposite side of the chamber. 

Feeling the bedframe soon halt his footsteps, your lips didn’t fall from his as he leisurely turned and planted himself on the mattress, taking you with him still securely wedged against his body. 

With his hands already rooted on your rear end, now that he no longer needed to carry you, they started to explore your body, palming at every pillowy curve within his reach. It only took one measly little rock of your hips against his thighs for him to needily yank you forward, landing your sobbing centre directly on top of his hard length.

“Your highne-, James,” you whimpered, the intoxicating contact making you detach from his lips and hide your blushing cheeks in his sturdy shoulder, still reciprocating his forward actions and sliding your dripping heat all along his throbbing length. 

“Please, let me have you,” he groaned into your hair, his hot breath blowing back some of the unravelled hair framing your face, “let me feel your warmth,” he pressed a palm on the small of your back, making you arch it and causing all of the delicious pressure to always be directly on your buzzing little pearl, “just let me in, love,” his fingers caressed your spine as you moaned against his neck, bucking desperately against his hardness, “let me have you, let me have all of you just like you have me.”

Reaching down between your bodies, you grasped onto James’ cock and lifted up your trembling thighs, though his large palms swiftly scooped under you, granting you some more security as you swept the bulbous tip through your folds, parting the wet petals over and over again till your quivering hole was screaming for attention. And then, still with your face buried in the crook of his neck, you sank down, eyes rolling back in your skull as your creamy pussy slowly swallowed all of his length. 

“Fuck,” James cursed, his chest rapidly rising and falling underneath you. 

Clinging onto him for dear life, you slowly began to ride him, shakily bouncing in his lap. Lewd squelching noises reverberated off the palace walls as he let you find your rhythm, eventually finding a slow but intense pace, first raising yourself nearly completely off, till just the memory of his girth remained, and then slamming your hips down against his own so hard that it actually made you see stars with how deep he got. 

“Let me see that beautiful face of yours,” you felt his fingers come to rest on each side, in no way attempting to force your head back, simply pleading with you sweetly with every gentle sweep of his thumbs against your cheeks. Your hips faltered as you timidly crawled out of your hiding spot and blinked your heavy lids at him. 

The shyness eventually melted away as you registered the adoring look in his eye. Gradually resuming your hips moments, you watched as his head tilted back ever so slightly in pleasure and gaze down at you through his lashes, “there you go, darling,” you let out a loud moan as you felt his palm accompany his praise, swiftly landing it upon your bottom, encouraging your bouncing and causing you to get back on track that much faster. 

Rapidly nearing the end now that his soulful eyes were locked with yours, you found yourself completely lost in the euphoric feeling, eventually welcoming James’ desperate aid as he dug his fingers into your hips and rocked you in his lap, essentially just using your body as he would with his own fist at night, lifting you off with such ease and fucking into you till you were both absolutely wrecked by the perfectly synched orgasms that rocked your realities. Though still, even as the pace slowed, he still kept on bouncing you in his lap, pushing his load deeper within you with every needy thrust. 

Breathlessly, both of you still completely enveloped in each other, your arms sluggishly draped around his neck and his wrapped around your sweaty body, keeping you pressed up against him. 

Slowly blinking his eyes open and staring back at you through his glasses, which had long ago glided so far down his long nose that they were now on the verge of falling off, he sighed contently and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Promise that you’ll write to me,” he whispered, his deep rumble making your sensitive body tingle and your walls clamper down on his softening girth. 

First giving his nose a light nudge with yours, you then brushed your lips against his, rapidly developing the innocent peck into a kiss so passionate that the time might as well have stopped. 

“I will,” you breathed, feeling the most blissful of tears roll down your cheek, “I promise.” 

“Y-your majesty!” you gasped, throwing your head back in ecstasy, nearly bumping your head against the doorframe you were balancing against. 

Detaching his lips from your swollen clit with a pop, he glanced up at you from his kneeling position and corrected, “James…” chuckling lightly as his fingers still clutched onto your dark skirt, bunching it up at your waist, “love, it’s been a whole year, thought you’d shake that habit by now.”

“Has it truly been a year already?” a shaky breath escaped your throat as he planted a kiss on your gleaming petals that was way too soft for how close he had you to the edge. 

“Happiest year of my life…” he beamed, right before diving back in, eating you out so as if someone could walk in and interrupt your fun at any moment, which was completely probable seeing as he hadn't waited for you to be behind closed doors for him to have a taste, simply whirled you around a corner and told you to be on lookout while he had his fun. 

“Fuck!” you weaved your fingers through his hair in an effort to keep him steady as the fireworks set off inside your belly, “James, I’m gonna-, don’t stop!” 

Bucking against his tongue as he stared up at your pleasure-filled face in awe, his mouth eventually eased into light pecks, loving the way your sensitive form jumped against his lips. Eventually rising back up to his feet, he pressed his slick-covered lips against yours and let your dress fall back down, covering the mess he had made. 

“Thank you,” he smiled brightly, lifting his thumb up to clean the glistening lower half of his face, swiping the finger over his chin only to bring it back up to his pillowy lips, licking the rest of your essence off and enjoying every last drop you’d given him.

“…It was an automobile accident…”

“W-what?” James uttered breathlessly, haven not heard a word of what his father had said after the bomb had been dropped. 

Tightening his jaw in an effort to control his own unbearable emotions, the severe king repeated, keeping his voice clear and stern, “your brother, crown prince Thomas, died last night. The authorities found him this morning a few hours away from here, in his car, which had crashed, tumbled over completely. I don’t know how long he was out there, trapped beneath an entire ton of metal, waiting it out, all alone… I-…” he let out a shaky breath, momentarily closing his eyes in order to centre himself, “the funeral will be held on Monday. That should give people a chance to get here in time.”

“Monday…” James’ unfocused eyes flicked around the room as he tried and failed to breathe in a world without his big brother, “granny will be able to get here in that time… that’s-…” he noticed how his glasses were now completely fogged up by his agonising tears, “she-, she should be here…” 

“My dear boy, you know what this means, right?” he exhaled, trying to catch his son’s glistening eyes, “as of last night your life will never be the same. It’s time for you to step up as the next rightful heir to the crown.”

next part

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[hooked-on-elvis]

ELVIS USES THE 'F' WORD DURING A CONCERT 🤬

PICTURE: Elvis performing live at the Hilton (International) Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada, on August 30, 1974 (Midnight concert, 12:00 a.m.).

Elvis Presley was humble and kind to everyone, everyone — even the ones who demonstrated not being keen to his music or holding prejudices against him, something he usually took it in a stride, showing his understanding and mature side when comprehending it was only their right not to appreciate his music or performance, therefore he didn't hold resentment for his haters/detractors or took it personally in any way, but Elvis wasn't cold blooded and sometimes he snapped back at the rude and mean people that crossed his way showing extremely senseless hate to him.

On August 30, 1974, Elvis was performing in Las Vegas at the Hilton International Hotel. It was his second show at the night (Midnight concert). Out of the blue, while Elvis talking to the audience and getting ready to sing another tune, a fan lady in the audience screamed 'I love you Elvis'. Elvis kindly replied, 'I love you too, sweetheart', and then another person said something to him (inaudible in the recorded material) to which we can hear Elvis replying, 'Well, I don't take that for granted'.

Suddenly, right following this endearing moment between a music idol and his fans, a smart-ass in the audience, probably trying to make Presley uncomfortable or just intending to call some attention for himself, shouted, 'I HATE YOU, ELVIS'. Without even thinking twice, Elvis immediately snapped: 'FUCK YOU.'

Elvis, who was in a great mood, very talkative throughout the concert, cracking jokes and even demonstrating some karate moves at some points, surely wasn't up to go on with that distasteful situation any longer, depriving his fans of some more valuable and joyful moments of his performance, so, without waiting for any kind of reaction from the unwelcome hater, Elvis begins singing 'An American Trilogy' and the show went on as smooth as if nothing of that nature had ever happened.

I wonder if the guy left the showroom or not. Probably he didn't.

Not much time later, Elvis can be heard laughing and then saying, "Just kidding" still in the middle of the "An American Trilogy" performance. I'm sure Elvis didn't feel proud of what happened in the way he responded the "fan" because he knew this could leave a permanent impression on this person. His (somewhat) apologize was not a matter of "damage control" concerning Elvis' image as a performer, in my opinion, but the will not to let that person go home feeling mistreated by him. Elvis was sensitive to other people's feelings. His close friends have said many times how El could be pissed off at someone, act impulsively in his anger but then immediately regret it afterwards and apologize the best way he found suitable. As I said, Presley never treated fans, who took their time to watch his live performances, in that manner but he just couldn't help feeling upset by that guy's bothering remark and that's completely forgivable - even because some of us would have done even worse in his place, if we can be honest with ourselves. As it seems, EP probably regretted the impulsive reply, but the guy totally asked for it.

This snippet is from a concert in Las Vegas, on August 30th 1974. The moment happened right after he finished singing 'Hound Dog'. You can hear the FULL CONCERT HERE (that moment begins at 35:23).

I recommend you to listen to the full concert. There's many great moments of Elvis on stage that day. One of the nicest things, right at the end of the concert, is when Elvis tells the audience that Dean Nichopoulos (son of his doctor, George Nichopoulos) is in the audience. Elvis tells them that Dean requested for him to perform 'Suspicious Mind', to what he shares with the audience that he would but under one condition. He made a deal with Dean that, if he sang the song, the boy would have to workout in Memphis at the karate dojo there, every day starting from the moment they went back to Memphis after the engagement was over.

This is the friend Elvis was. He wanted the best for the ones he cared for. 🥹⚡ Can we have any more doubt on why his friends and coworkers and all the fans talk so highly on Elvis since always? It is not exclusively because of who he was as a performer, much less because of any favors granted them over the years too. It happens simply because of who Elvis was as a human being and how special and loved he made people feel whenever he was near. Precious boy! My heart can't stand the amount of love and appreciation I have for Elvis, seriously. He was not only one of the greatest performers the world has ever seen. He was one of the precious souls to ever walked the earth - a faulted man at times, but a great human being, a figure of love, generosity, compassion, loyalty, true friendship and so much more. God bless his soul. 💙

LIVE ALBUM 'Elvis: Night Fever in Vegas'. Release: 1997. Recording Type: Live Soundboard Recording. Location: Las Vegas, Nevada. Date: August 30 - 1974, Midnight Show.

CLARIFICATION ON THE LIVE ALBUM COVER PICTURE — 'Elvis: Night Fever in Vegas', released in 1997.

Looking for pictures of that August 30, 1974 concert, I found Elvis wearing different suits. I was so confused on which one was the right picture from that concert that I had to do some research, otherwise I wouldn't be in peace. Here's what I found, I hope it can help clarify some fans too.

At the concert that moment happened, Elvis was not dressed as the cover from the live album shows. He was dressed in the Two-toned Wine Glass Leather Two-piece suit (picture above is from the actual concert on August 30, 1974 - Midnight concert). For the dinner concert earlier that night (8:15 p.m.) he wore the Emperor Beige Leather Two-piece suit. On the live concert album cover released in 1997, is a picture of Elvis dressed in the Chinese Dragon suit, first worn during the latter part of the 1974 August/September Las Vegas engagement. To be exact he wore the Dragon suit for the first time on September 2, 1974, therefore that picture used as a cover to the live album with the recorded August 30, 1974 concert can be either from September 2, 1974 or from one of the next Vegas engagement concerts when he wore the Chinese Dragon suit again (September/October 1974).

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

SOURCES ⚡

For last, I'd like to thank/mention www.elvisconcerts.com for being a precious source of enlightenment on Elvis' concerts dates and the suits worn by him, with their amazing index on the website. It helps me A LOT getting the accurate info for the pictures of Elvis onstage (1969-1977) that I share in my posts. Other sources for the info on this post were: elvisoncd.com [concert setlist], Pinterest [pictures], Youtube [ELVIS WORLD and J.R. The King of London (Channel 2) [recorded concert].

[stopeatingwhales]

the 1995 brits (pt. 2) x damon albarn & liam gallagher

ok this has nothing to do with the brits bc now its about glastonbury 1995 i just didn't know whether i should rename it lmaoo okay enjoy x

Pairing: 1995 damon albarn & liam gallagher x reader

Warnings: none at all

Word count: 2.495

part one

༉‧₊˚✧

The Glastonbury festival was always one of the best gatherings for music every year. All the best acts in the music would all be invited to perform, and it was amazing. It formed a unity, a connection between the fans and the artists, the creators and the consumers, morphing an atmosphere which only gentrified the solidarity and wholeness the nation felt when they all held adoration to the same album, same songs, singing the choruses from their hearts, with their whole being. It was a spiritual connection with the audience; you weren’t singing to them, you were singing with them. Nothing got as good as Glastonbury - a concert size any larger you would begin to feel detached with the audience - and boy was it a good feeling to be invited this year. Our band had blown up massively, and to be able to perform on the main stage, celebrating the summer and the true joys that music is able to provide and attain, is more than just doing your part. It’s a humbling experience; the lyrics that may have seemingly been written down as a daft thought on the back of a napkin whilst you were sitting having a coffee, relaxing in the tedious cycle that is life, being chanted back to you, shows the true connection those can have with simple melodies and lyrics. Once it’s released in any format, the music, the lyrics, the melodies, they aren’t yours; just as a book, once released, is not the authors’ anymore. It possesses the ownership of the public, that who purchases it, wears it out, listens to the songs back to back to memorise every single lyric and adlib. The songs become the nation's songs, they become the mere link to a dozen memories of each and every person, which they would take to their grave, remembering the good times, and potentially the bad. The true power of music is that it forms a connection - not just with the artist, but with yourself. You can relate to whatever has been said, you can understand yourself just that bit more which allows you to grow as a person, and mature and better into the person that you were set out to be.

I was standing backstage, currently watching the performance lead by Blur, trying to hide from any form of authority who would know that I wasn’t supposed to be back here yet. My band was on in a few hours, so I wasn’t permitted backstage, the only people allowed being the group that was on next. As I admired the performance being put on by Damon and the rest of the band, mumbling lyrics every now and again of songs that I had known from their albums, I felt an arm snake its way around my waist, the grip of the person’s palm squeezing my hip slightly. “Now how come I haven’t seen your pretty face in a while?” said Liam, who was grinning at me widely.

Since the Brit awards, I forced myself to stop partying as much as I used to, due to the addiction that had been stemming from my consistent use of drugs and alcohol. It began to take its toll on me entirely, and I hated the lifestyle that I had started to inhabit. Sex, booze, drugs... they all seem so wonderful, and seem to be fundamental elements that could provide an enjoyable time, don't they? But with repetitive use of such recreational activities, it would not only initiate the worst hangovers, but would also form a pit of longing in the body, endured with your attempt to fill it up with all the illegal pharmaceuticals to make you feel whole again, but of course, the happiness only lasts for a short while before you’re passed out on a couch, waking up at 5 in the afternoon with a raging headache and the only access to pain medication being a five minute walk to the nearest corner shop because you had finished it all. And to your surprise, the pit only got more deep and paining. It was ironic; the drugs designed for jubilation, euphoria, fulfillment, started to make me feel worse than I had already done previously. “I’ve just been caught up with working on the new album, so I’ve been too focused on that to be going out like I used to,” I replied, a grin masked over my lips. It was far from a lie; my band were currently working on our third album, and it had been quite an interesting experience as we were reinventing our sound, though wasn’t the main reason I had avoided all clubs in sight. “You miss me?”

“Course I do, you’re the only girl I know that’ll go as hard as the rest of the lads,” a frown painted over his face as he looked down on me. “It’s hot, y’know.”

I scoffed, my smile still evident on my face. “Oh Liam, you’re going to make me blush!” I joked, placing my arm around his waist. We both carried on watching the performance being led by Damon, who currently had the crowd screaming over the top of their heads at Girls and Boys. Oasis were on after - even these concerts were chipping in on the mess of their feud. “You nervous?”

“Me? Nervous? Never.” Liam replied, snarling at my question.

“Really?” I asked, diverting my stare to look up at Liam, my eyebrows raised in a sarcastic manner. Even though it wasn’t evident from his facial expression, everybody would be nervous. Especially if you were performing on the main stage in a few minutes.

“Okay, maybe a little bit.” He mumbled, staring at Damon with a look of disgust on his face.

“Knew it,” I grinned, allowing my hand to run up and down his back as a form of comfort to soothe his nerves. The tight grip he kept consistent on my waist proved that he felt tense. “You’ll be amazing, you always are.”

“You hitting on me?” he quickly fired back, cocking his head to the side as he admired me, his gaze flicking to my lips every now and again.

“Of course I am.” I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes at Liam’s child-like characteristics. By now Blur had finished their set, leaving the crowd screaming and waving things in the air as a form of goodbye. Me and Liam stayed put in our place as the four boys waltzed off the stage, me congratulating them as they walked off one by one. Damon was the last to walk off, and as he began strolling off the stage proudly, our eyes connected, causing me to dart my stare away from his robust glare that had reflected off of his orbs. Knowing of his distaste in Liam, I brushed it off immediately, remembering the pettiness of their argument the last time we had all been together at the Brits. I heard Liam utter some profanity under his breath after Damon walked past us, but I chose not to question him on it, full-well knowing it was either wanker or cunt.

When the rest of the band turned up and Oasis were on cue to go on, Liam quickly detached himself from our embrace, pressing his lips to my cheek, grinning at me widely. “Don’t miss me too much!” he shouted as he walked onto the stage, causing the crowd to erupt into a fit from the mere sight of the band getting themselves ready - Liam just standing there cooly, picking up the tambourine left on the floor for him. I marvelled at the band as they began their set, instantly grinning as soon as Liam began singing the lyrics to Rock n Roll star. Let’s hope he’s not walking off stage this time.

I continued to concentrate on their performance, oftentimes laughing as the crowd progressively got more and more rowdy, screaming the lyrics as Liam sang them, as if Noel’s backing vocals weren’t enough to keep the song going to its full potential. “I wonder when you’re going to realise that you like me.” I heard a voice mutter from behind, causing me to abruptly turn my head, even though I knew exactly who it was. My eyes were greeted with the sight of Damon, a small smirk illustrated on his lips as he glued his eyes on mine - just like he had done before when he walked past me and Liam.

“I’m sorry?” I scoffed, raising my eyebrows at his clearly egotistical assumption, though I couldn’t help but resist a smile to contract on my cheeks as I gazed at him. Much like me and Liam, we also hadn’t spoken since the Brit awards, and it would’ve been a lie if I hadn’t wanted to talk to him again. Despite the fact that there was a certain tension between us that, from each meeting, seemed to intensify, and was something we were both clearly aware of, I ignored it entirely - even if my bandmates had teased me religiously every time they saw me have an encounter with him. Go out with him already! You two are constantly flirting!

Moving away from where I was standing, I made my way over to him to be able to talk over the loud music seeping out of the speakers, instead of shouting at one another. We then exited the backstage area together, welcoming us to the view of a plain grassland where a couple trailers had been parked, both of our bands included. Eventually, we walked to one of the random trailers, assuming it was his one, and stood against the shiny metal impediment as we shared a cigarette.

“Don’t act like it’s not true,” he replied casually, him reciprocating my grin as we began to walk further into the backstage space. “I saw the way you were eyeing me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I replied, attempting to act oblivious towards his statement. I could feel him gawking, focused on me as I admired the blooming sunlight that casted out towards us, the light so bright that it caused my eyes to tear up slightly. The music was still very much audible, and the screams of the many thousands jammed together in the mosh pit were still extremely loud.

“Oh, but you do.” he mumbled, causing me to shift my view to look at him. He had now fixated his stare onto the sun, the cigarette softly placed between his lips as he inhaled quickly before taking it out and allowing the built-up smoke from his lungs to escape into the atmosphere. Dropping the tobacco roll onto the ground, he placed his foot over it in order to burn it out, then turning his head to fixate his gaze onto mine. A brief moment of silence passed as we admired one another, the atmosphere carrying an element of apprehension as to what was about to occur between us. Through my peripheral I saw moving his body slightly to come closer to mine as he lifted his back off the metal surface and stood in front of me, my gaze not daring to leave him. Our eyes maintained strong eye contact as I felt my cheeks began to heat up furiously, followed by my attempt on telling myself that it was simply due to the sun’s radiance that my face held such warmth, almost as if to doubt the feelings, the tensions that had constantly piled up every time we had seen one another.

Our noses touched as our faces then became inches apart, my eyes focused on Damon, who kept darting his eyes to my lips every few seconds. Tilting his head slightly, he leaned his body forward, softly pressing his lips onto mine. We stood there for a few seconds, to allow the moment to truly sink in. His hands were gently placed on my waist as I placed them on his arms, like a form of support to allow myself to stay upright. After a while, I snaked my hands around his neck in order to deepen the kiss, the warmth of his lips colliding against mine sending shocks all around my body - the moment didn’t feel real at all. It was as if this entire time of me knowing of him, interacting with him, being in his presence, I had attempted to avoid myself catching feelings, not getting myself engraved in a situation with another musician, but due to my mind forcing such a hindrance, it became an inevitability - I caught feelings for Damon Albarn.

As we pulled away to catch our breaths, Damon leaned back, sneaking his arms around my waist as he looked down on me. “You liked that.”

“Shut up.”

“Can’t wait for Liam to find out about this.” he grinned, playing with strands of my hair as I glared at him. I knew he was aware of the glare I was giving him, because he seemingly began to grin even wider.

“He won’t, because you’re not going to tell him.” I replied bluntly, placing my hands on his chest as I began to draw little circles over his shirt. It felt so surreal, yet so normal - there was a certain amenity shared between us proving that what was felt in the past was indeed real, and indeed reciprocated.

“Always knew you’d give in one day.” he mumbled, a devilish grin painted on his lips.

“Really?” I scoffed. “Even when the tabloids were convinced me and Gallagher were an item?” I asked, staring straight into his eyes. I noticed him frown slightly after the question left my mouth, my lips attempting to form into a smile as I broke off his smug persona.

“Well it looks like you’ve left Liam to be with me.” he grinned, our eyes connecting once again. I took his hand away from my hair to interlace it with mine, holding it close to my chest for Damon to be able to feel my heartbeat. Even though anybody could have opened their trailer door and witnessed us in such an affectionate state, none of that seemingly mattered to either one of us. Everything that had occurred between me and Damon felt so perfect, to the point that I would want somebody to come and witness the true beauty of this moment. There was a strong feeling in my chest that I wanted him to feel, to understand, that what was occurring between us truly meant something, and wasn’t just a silly little play to mess with my feelings.

“Liam’s not that bad you know.”

“I’m just joking, love, don’t worry.” he mumbled, bringing our interlaced hands to his face to allow him to kiss the back of my hand. “You wanna go get something to eat before you head on?”

“Sure, I’d love to.” I said, forcing us to detach our bodies from our embrace and walk over to one of the food stalls, hand in hand.

[starilicious]

ishq wala love (echo x gn!reader)

》 summary: reader comforts an insecure echo after the end of tbb episode 4 "cornered" about having mechanical parts as part of his body.

》 word count: ~2.2k

click here to read on AO3

》 warnings: slight sensory overload, mild panic attack (i think it could be classified as relatively vague in regards to the description), insecure echo about his body, a teensy bit of in universe swearing, lots of flufffff and a dash of angst here and there, no use of y/n [if i should add more warnings, please let me know!]

》 spoilers: extremely mild ones from tbb episode 4 "cornered"

》 a/n: hello! this is my first tbb fic, so i really hope i do the show, the characters, and the fandom justice hehe ^_^ over the past few days, i've become obsessed with tbb fics, particularly the echo x reader ones bc my GOODNESS this man is such a soft bean who deserves all the love in the galaxy. as a result, please enjoy this sleep-deprived frenzy of a fic that i wrote at 1 am and let me know your thoughts! :)

》 misc. notes:

• title of the fic is from the hindi song "ishq wala love" from the film student of the year. i've linked the song (in blue) with some pretty good english translations in case you would like to take a listen, but it isn't necessary for the fic–i just thought it fit well!

• i kind of got way too invested in building up the environment at the beginning, so apologies if it seems like a slow start! i just had to indulge in having the other characters there too <3

• please ignore the inaccuracies of the havoc marauder. i don't really know what the ship looks like, especially the living quarters, so i unintentionally ended up using the ghost from swr to guide my writing for that part.

• what the reader says at the end about the word in love in her native language is true. the language i'm referring to here is hindi, and we have several different words for love. in my very humble opinion, i think it’s one of the many characteristics of the language that makes hindi so sweet-sounding and poetic :)

• THANK YOU FOR 100 NOTES OMG AHHH YOU ALL ARE TRULY AMAZING 😭<333 (7/1/2021)

After Tech piloted the Bad Batch away from Pantora and safely entered hyperspace, you all decided to turn in to get some rest–or at least attempt to. With the bounty hunter scare, you and the boys figured it would be best to discuss what to do tomorrow morning, for Omega’s sake.

You tucked Omega in with her doll and offered her a comforting smile. “Don’t worry ‘Meg,” you said softly, running a gentle hand through her cropped blonde hair. “You’ll be safe, I promise. You’re stuck with us for life.”

Omega smiled sleepily at your teasing and held her arms out for a hug, one which you gladly indulge. “Sweet dreams, love,” you murmur as you let go. You shut off the lamp in her makeshift room and closed the curtains as you climbed down the ladder.

You turned around to find Hunter looking at you from his seat in front of the blinking controls. You raised an eyebrow as you plopped down in front of him unceremoniously, the exhaustion of the action-packed day catching up to you.

"You're good with her," he murmured as you both glanced at the light beige divider and you shrugged in response.

"Just looking out for her. Besides, you're not so bad yourself. She mimics your every move," you grinned. Hunter chuckled fondly as he recalled the memory where they were all stuck in the Kaminoan prison cell and Omega copied his every gesture.

The two of you lapsed in a comfortable silence as you mulled over the day's events, the hum of the ship thrumming beneath your feet.

"We'll be okay. It's tiring and difficult and none of us know how to raise a child, but we'll be okay," you said, breaking the quiet with optimism. You placed a hand on Hunter's shoulder and smiled. "Crosshair will be okay too. Have faith."

Hunter sighed but nodded in agreement as he put his hand over yours. "Goodnight," he said as he stood up, stretching his muscles.

"Sleep well."

You sat at the small table for a few more minutes to think before standing up yourself. You quickly checked in on Tech in the cockpit since he was on watch, and he immediately shooed you away, insisting you get some sleep. You had a feeling he only did so to optimize the ship in peace without distractions.

Nevertheless, you obliged and left him alone. Walking to the back of the ship, you completed your rounds. Wrecker was snoring loudly and you stifled a laugh. At least he was sleeping well–it was all you could ask for really. But frankly, you had no idea how Crosshair was ever able to sleep through it. Thinking about him and seeing his empty bunk made your heart pang in loss, but you were as determined as the rest of them to somehow bring him back. You had to.

You opened the door to Hunter and Tech’s shared room to find Hunter already sleeping soundly and you quickly left. With his enhanced senses, he was already a light sleeper, and compounded with his responsibilities as a leader, he rarely got any rest. You worried for him.

Last stop was your and Echo's room. You stepped in to find the light still on. Echo was sitting on the floor in front of your bunk, staring at the ground.

"Hey there handsome," you joked lightly in an attempt to get his attention and mask your unease. Echo usually only came near your bunk when something was wrong and after everything that happened today, it was safe to say you were concerned.

Echo didn't respond. Did he hear me? You make your way over to your lover and sit down in front of him. You place your hands on top of his.

"Echo, honey?" You said softly and finally finally he looked up at you. Your heart dropped into your stomach.

"Oh, darling," you breathed and you moved to his side to envelop him into a hug, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck. You didn’t say anything more–you saw the deep pain swirling in his eyes, the grief, the loss. The anger. You let Echo take the lead; you knew how difficult it was to wrangle raging thoughts and muster them into words.

You didn’t know how much time passed of you two sitting on the floor, breathing each other in before Echo spoke.

“Today… when we went on the supply run, I was dressed as a droid.”

You bit your lip, knowing exactly where this was going. But you didn’t interrupt, letting him continue. Your thumb rubbed absentmindedly on his arm as you listened.

“That vendor we were talking to wouldn't take what we had. And then he saw me,” Echo took a deep breath. You stayed quiet, holding his hand in a manner that you hoped soothed his anxieties at least a little bit.

“Hunter sold me as a droid to him. I-I know he doesn’t see me as a droid. I know that. But–” Echo’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat of the emotion building up. Echo didn’t know how to express what he wanted to say. He didn’t even want to speak it aloud–that would make it feel too real. And Echo severely doubted he could handle the heartbreak. Can I do this?

“Cyar’ika,” he murmured and you hummed in response. Echo pulled away from you, his hand still in yours. Now or never. “I need you to be completely, absolutely, 100% honest with me,” he whispered. Echo steeled his expression, doing his best to hide how terrified he truly was.

You nodded because of course you would be. When were you not?

But the way Echo gazed at you threw you off. Something was wrong, very wrong. You were almost scared of what he would say next, but you made a gesture for him to say what was on his mind. Clearly, this was important.

“Do you really want to be with me when I’m just–” Echo struggled with the last few words and you strained to pick them up with how they caught in his throat. “–a pathetic, disgusting, hybrid machine?” It’s out, I said it. I said it. Echo felt like he couldn’t breathe, the pressure on his chest too much, too much. He stared down at the floor, face flooded with shame.

You stared at him in blatant disbelief, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open from a shocked laugh. No no no Echo. You’re nothing of the sort. You didn’t move. Echo’s breath hitched as he looked back up at you, broken and open and raw.

“Don’t lie, please don’t lie to me. I know there's no way you could ever love me when I… when I look like this,” Echo whispered, but he may as well have shouted with the way the blood was rushing through your ears.

And then something in you snapped.

You removed your hands from his and placed them on his cheeks, pulling him in until your foreheads were touching. “Echo, you need to listen to me,” you instructed and heaved a breath as you tried to sort your own rushing thoughts into articulated words. But the effort was futile as your careful speech turned into a haphazard and passionate stream of consciousness.

His eyes glistened with unshed tears and your heart broke into pieces. Echo gave you all of his attention. What are you going to say? He didn’t want you to agree, but he would understand if you did. Echo felt disgusted with himself. The walls were closing in on him. Breathing was getting harder.

“You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t give one flying banthashit about any of your mechanical parts. If anyone ever says anything about them, they’re di’kuts and you can send them my way because I will not hesitate to punch some sense into them,” you spat with pure determination, not even noticing the Mando’a slip. After being surrounded by clones for so long, you absorbed bits and pieces of the language. You didn’t even register how Echo picked up on the word, much too focused on getting your point across. You were a person on a mission and nothing would stand in your way.

The knot in Echo’s stomach was loosening a bit, the storm in his mind beginning to break. The walls were a bit farther from him. He wasn’t drowning in his own presence anymore.

“Because you know what? You’re still my Echo. You’re a man, my dear. Not a machine. You never were, and never will be. These parts?” you gestured to his scomp link, his legs, the cybernetic implant in his head. “They mean nothing. Absolutely nothing. Don’t focus on them.”

You smiled sadly as you rubbed your thumbs gently on his cheeks. “I fell in love with you, Echo, not your body. I love the way you make me laugh, the way you comfort me, the way you cry with me. As much as I kriffing hate that you have been through so much pain because of those damned Separatists, I’m grateful for the fact that I’m in love with a man who would do anything for his family, for his brothers.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you remembered Fives coming back home from the Citadel but no Echo in sight. You would never admit it to anyone, but you swore a piece of you had died that day.

Echo felt like he was going to cry. The pressure that had been building up in his chest was releasing. He could breathe again, slowly, slowly. His only focus was you, was your words. The artificial lights didn’t seem to be as glaring now. They were softer, calmer.

“Echo, my love, even through it all, you not only survived, but you came out on top, victorious,” you paused, briefly overcome with how much love and gratitude you had for this wonderful man. “You came back to me, Echo, and you’re as handsome as ever. I have never stopped loving you, and never will. Don’t you ever forget that darling.”

Echo drew in a shaky breath. The harsh cold of the floor grates was biting into his skin, but he didn’t care. It grounded him as much as your warm touch on his face. He could breathe again. My cyar’ika.

Your fiery and passionate emotional speech came to an end as you stared into your lover’s eyes. There was so much more you could say, but you feared words would not be able to convey it all. You hoped your eyes would be enough to soothe his pained and tired soul.

Silent tears trailed down Echo’s face and you gently brushed them away as you pulled him into a tight hug. It was all you could do to not cry yourself. Echo was always so strong–you admired him for it.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice thick with appreciation and love. You didn’t say anything. There was no need to. The charged air between you both was enough. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence on the floor of the Havoc Marauder, deep in your own thoughts.

“Ishq wala love,” you muttered fondly after some time, still caught up in your own mind.

“Hm?” Echo questioned, curious as to what you said. The soft sound gently pulled you out of the clouds and back to the man in your arms as you attempted to explain.

“There’s a phrase in my native language, ishq wala love. You see, in Basic, there’s just one word for love, which is love. But back home, we have several different words for love, each with their own subtle, but distinct meaning,” you blew out a breath as you tried to figure out what to say. Echo was hanging on to your every word.

“There’s… there isn’t really a direct translation, but the best I can come up with is that the love that we have, ishq, is much deeper than just romantic love. It’s deep and strong and pure and unyielding. It–it reminded me of us,” you admitted, a bit sheepish. Your fingers dance along Echo’s scomp link, nervous.

Echo took a moment to process your explanation before smiling. You felt your heart stitch itself back together again after seeing that beautiful smile. You would do anything to keep it on his lovely face.

“Ishq wala love,” he echoed, his pronunciation a bit off. You giggled in response. “Close enough,” you teased and Echo simply beamed. You leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on his soft lips, rubbing his metal arm gently.

Echo stood up then, offering a hand to you to help you up. You took it and he led you over to the bunk you shared together. You both quickly climbed in, relaxing in the warmth of the well worn blankets and the other’s presence.

Your head was near his chest and you could hear the soothing dull sound of his steady heartbeat. Your arm curled over his waist protectively and your head rested comfortably on his flesh arm. Echo shut off the light and you were ensconced in black velvety darkness.

“Goodnight, cyar’ika.”

“Sweet dreams, Echo. I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

please consider reblogging! it really helps me and is super encouraging ^_^

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers (Minus Asmo) at Their Worst Pt. 2 (Satan, Beel, Belphie)

This is still a lot darker than I usually post so please take the warnings seriously. Soft content will probably return after this because being real? Pain hurts and writing pain kinda hurts too. I like my life fluffy because it helps me unwind, you know? For any of you who dwell in darkness, here is my humble offering. I hope you’ve enjoyed because that would make all the effort worth it in the end. Will I go this dark again at some point? Maybe. Suggestions will always be appreciated, but know that it’s not an area in my comfort zone.

Check out the Masterlist for more.

Warnings: THEIR SINS HAVE BEEN TAKEN TO AN EXTREME (AND ALL THAT IMPLIES), Abusive/Controlling Relationships, Yandere-ish, Violence, Gore, Cannibalism, Angst, Regret, Suicidal Thoughts

This is all for the purposes of fantasy and in no way an endorsement for these behaviors in real life. Be nice (and smart) with your lives, my friends.

Intro: Maybe the MC should have known better. It should have sunk in a long time ago that they were in incredibly risky territory... They should have remembered that these men, though they call them friends, family, and perhaps even lovers, are still demons at their heart and core. Each of them are the embodiment of some of the worst behaviors man has to offer... MC, there are some people you just shouldn’t date, even if they love you, and now you suffer the consequences...

Satan

If there was any one flaw people could point to with Satan it was his temper. Truly something befitting his sin, it burned white hot and could ignite like a flash fire. 

It was the MC who came in and finally brought him a bit of peace. Sure, he could still get mad, but for once he felt like he relied less on his facade. He felt like he could actually be relaxed and not let his anger control him...

But Wrath is more than just anger. It’s irrational. It’s undiscerning. It’s… spite. So. Much. Spite.

That’s why even after the storm of rage within him quelled, Satan was far from the perfect lover. 

He just couldn’t seem to let things go... Anything that the MC did, every little thing he disapproved of, he kept on a running tally. He didn’t like himself for it but he almost couldn’t help it. Every misstep had to be admonished and every jab had to be repaid. Maybe not right then… But he always had his way in the end. 

For small things, it was annoying at best. Being the knowledgeable man he is it’s fairly easy for him to lord his superior intelligence over people, the MC included. If they just went along with him and the boat would stay righted...

For larger things, the cracks begin to surface. No one likes a know-it-all telling how to live, after all. But Satan never cared to hear their complaints. He knows what’s best and he would “kindly” remind them of this by bringing up every mistake they’d ever made before. Any insult they lobbed, he had three waiting to counter.

It was all just repayment. If they wanted to hurt him, then he should get to hurt them back shouldn’t he?

If someone had reminded him that relationships aren’t transactional then maybe he’d have seen the problem sooner… If someone had intervened and told him he was actually being far from fair, he might have rethought his position... But no one else saw those warning signs. It was just Satan being Satan. Wrath made flesh.

He was legitimately shocked when the MC finally cracked one day. They were in yet another argument (one where he was winning) but he just had to throw in one last dig. One final insult to the pile... One more mistake they had made...

It was genuinely just a reflexive move that sent the MC flying against his bookshelves after they lunged at him. He didn’t think, he just acted and tossed them back with full force. He’s a demon though, so it wasn’t exactly pretty.

Seeing their crumpled form on the ground sent his mind into a panic... What did he just do?? His brothers came rushing in and accused him of throwing them in anger, but for once he had a clear head! Or… so he thought...

While the MC’s body recovered, their bones mending and blood vessels repairing, he realized that he hadn’t been thinking clearly at all. It was nothing but spite that drove him to cause them so much mental pain… A spite from within him that he’d let hurt even the person he loved most…

Satan shut himself away from others for a while. He felt defeated... Even after thinking he had a better handle on his anger, that he had grown into something more than the sin that made him, he was only ever acting on his Wrath to start with…

His breakup with the MC was painful but in his eyes well-warranted. He just couldn’t stop himself from hurting them...

Beelzebub

Beel is always hungry and that’s practically a universal law by now. There’s always an empty pit in his stomach just looking to be briefly satisfied by food of any kind... 

It’s that brief satisfaction he chases like a junkie does his high. Sometimes he can’t even control his body’s need to devour, he’ll see food and just lunge for it. He’s a Glutton and it’s no secret.

Yet the MC made that pain he felt just a little more manageable. He couldn’t explain it, but they just made him less hungry... And for that, he wanted to protect them forever.

Unfortunately, it all happened in the one place they should have been the safest. Right there next to him in bed, their body pressed against his while his arms held them close. Nothing should have hurt them there, not a single demon would have dared to try…

...so why did it have to be him...?

He was having a terrible nightmare. He felt the ever-present pain in his stomach getting worse and worse. It was as if he could feel it in his very bones just this empty, gnawing, festering need to eat and consume whatever he could to make the pain just go away and-

He woke up to their screams.

Belphie had him pinned before he could process what had happened. All he could hear was a wail of pure agony from across the room and he could taste…

Meat. Metallic… Raw… He swallowed without thinking. But once he saw the source, it made him feel truly sick...

MC had left the bed and was crouched against the farthest wall, a blanket in their hand desperately trying to apply pressure to their shoulder. The blanket was soaked with blood…

A deep, lacerated bite wound lied underneath.

He had tried to eat them…

His other brothers were in the room in record time while Belphegor screamed at him. Questions of “What happened??” “What’s wrong with you?!?” “How could you!?” all leapt from their mouths.

He didn’t have an answer. He couldn’t believe it himself. He wanted to wash his mouth out with gasoline then never open it again… sew it shut for all he cared…

His brothers just might have murdered him that night if the MC hadn’t intervened, still wincing from the pain. Maybe they saw his tears and took pity…?

They tried to reassure him that they knew it was an accident. They said they knew he’d never hurt them on purpose, even as the blood soaked through their shirt… But for some reason that just made him feel worse. Why couldn’t he just control himself like everyone else could…??

Even after their wound was treated and started to heal over he began to keep his distance from them… He couldn’t stand to risk them getting hurt again and he couldn’t trust himself not to do it. If they tried to reach out, he’d pull back. If they approached, he’d back away…

Honestly? It’s better this way...

Belphegor

Belphie could say that the MC did far more for him than just getting him out of that attic. They changed him... or more accurately, they helped him heal. There were just some things about him that even they couldn’t change...

If someone wanted to know what made him so tired, they could point to his sin. But Sloth does more than just make him sleepy... he was a lazy bastard too.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t expect everyone else around him to still give him 100% anyway, the MC especially. Truly, if there were ever four words to describe a relationship with Belphie they'd be: all take, no give.

It wasn’t that he was uncaring, it was just that he always seemed to want more than he was willing to give back... The MC’s time, attention, interest, and love all had to be for him at the drop of a hat but they could never expect him to do the same…

Of course, being lazy is one thing… but Belphie was manipulative, too.

He knew all manner of ways to get people to do things for him, even if they don’t want to. His favorite weapons against a reluctant MC were charm, flirtation, and guilt tripping… so much guilt tripping…

Say no to him and suddenly they must not love him enough. Or maybe they just don’t care, huh? He’d had a long day at RAD, his brothers were driving him crazy, and all he wanted was just this one little favor from them. Just one little thing. Was really too much to ask?

Never mind that his “little favor” would just be one of a thousand that came before it or that when they asked for small favors in return, half the time he was either asleep or couldn’t be bothered.

Never mind how used they felt as time wore on… unappreciated and exploited no matter how much they showered him with love...

Any time they brought it up, he'd just act disappointed with them. Like, somehow the problem wasn't that he was asking for too much but they just couldn't keep up. And he was so damn persuasive he actually had them believing it for a while... But only a while.

Now, Belphie did love them. He loved them a lot, actually, almost as deeply as he does for Beel or did for Lilith... And that's why it stung So. Bad. when they said they wanted to leave him.

Breakup? With him? Why?? He honestly thought they couldn't be happier! They showed that they loved for him time and time again so why did they suddenly want to leave? Without them he'd start feeling all alone again...

So he asked, well. No. Actually he shouted. 

He couldn't let them leave, not after he'd come to need them...! They did so much for him after all, couldn't they see they were his world? His heart? His everything??

He thought that he could still convince them not to go but they wouldn’t listen... He tried being charming, then he tried pleading... when those didn’t work he made a few threats then-

Beel's fist slamming into his cheek is what tore his hands from their neck after he went through a Complete. Meltdown. He had never seen his twin so mad at him before… 

Beel had him by the collar, shouting about how he had been running the MC ragged and how terribly he had been treating them… Belphie didn’t believe him at first but it slowly started to hit him. 

His slothful entitlement had made him so selfish… He not only asked the world of them then took them for granted, but it also blinded him to his fault in the whole thing... He wanted them to be his everything but he just wouldn’t accept his responsibility to be a good boyfriend to them in return…

Their shouting had apparently alerted the whole house and his brothers came in to investigate. The amount of anger that filled the room when they saw the MC curled on the floor, gasping for air, could have fueled a thousand Satans...

He didn’t want to keep away from them. He wanted to apologize and actually try this time but his brothers wouldn’t let him. He had hurt the MC twice now, so he just couldn’t be trusted… As far as they were concerned he could never be left alone with them again but the way MC avoided him too probably hurt the worst of all…

Maybe he should have never gotten that second chance after all...

Link to Part One: Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan

[emptyacnt]

Spared.

Rengoku Kyoujuro x Fem!OC (NSFW) Minors DNI

Yukari had been a simple baker before she became the wife of the Flame Pillar. She was alone in this life, and her only ambition was to keep up the trade that had been so beloved to her mother and father. Her tiny confectionary stand was extremely popular in her village for the desserts she baked every day, beloved by people young and old alike. Rengoku had been passing through her village one day, intending to stay the night before continuing on to headquarters. He became curious about the small crowd gathered around the stand, always in the mood for delicious food, he joined them. He was delighted to see that what they were so excited about seemed to be mochi shaped to look like various small animals. When it came to his turn in line, he intended to ask for twenty of them, but the moment he and Yukari met eyes he felt like his words had become a tangled lump in his throat. Her short black hair perfectly framed her round face, her cheeks chubby and pink like a cherub. Her brown eyes were so big and her lips so plump, she looked like a precious doll. Rengoku tried very hard to always be respectful of others, especially women, and tried his best not to think improper or degrading things when he saw attractive women. But the perpetual pout of her lips went straight to his cock. She smiled at him and his heart skipped a beat.

"Hello! What would you like?" she asked. Her voice was so soft..

"GREETINGS! I! WOULD! LIKE! FOOD!" he choked out. The eloquent sentence that had been in his mind completely fell apart by the time it reached his mouth. His cheeks flushed an embarrassingly dark shade of pink, and Yukari covered her mouth as she giggled quietly.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh at you! You're just.. Really cute!" she said. Rengoku felt like his knees were going to buckle. Her sincerity and openness made him feel like he could trust her, that he could tell her his insecurities, his anxieties, and be met without judgement. Though it was far too early to be thinking like this.

"If you haven't decided, would you like one of each?" she asked. He nodded and listened intently as she explained the different flavors of each little mochi animal. He furiously nodded in agreement at everything she said, eager just to hear her speak more.

He stayed in that town longer than necessary, stopping to get so many pastries from her every day that it made his stomach hurt, but it was well worth it just to see her smile.

The day finally came that he couldn't waste any more time in that town, he needed to return to headquarters. He lingered around her stand in the evening until he saw her beginning to pack up for the night.

"Y-YUKARI!" he said, louder than he meant to, making her jump.

"AH! I did not mean to startle you. I wanted to ask, could I walk you home, please? If it's okay." he asked shyly. Yukari smiled and nodded. The two of them walked side by side and Rengoku thought she looked even more beautiful in the dim light of the lanterns strung up on either side of the road. The way she might look at night, in bed, with him, just barely lit by an oil lamp or a candle.. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful, but the words felt like they wouldn't come out no matter how much he tried to force them.

"This is my home. Do you want some tea?" she asked as they approached a small, humble cottage. This place wouldn't be big enough for the two of them and all of their children, he thought.

"Oh, YES! I would very much like tea!" he replied.

Her home was comfortable, even if it was only big enough for one person. He slid his shoes off and sat down at her kotatsu, looking over at the small table by the door with pictures of her parents and grandparents, flowers and incense. It seemed she really was alone in this life, and that made Rengoku want to stay by her side all the more. She returned from the kitchen with a tea tray and sat down at the table with him, excitedly chatting about different pastry ideas she had as she poured cups for them both.

"This tea smells wonderful, what is it?" he asked. It smelled like sugary fruits, like apples and pears and mangos.

"It's something my mother used to make for me, it's her recipe. It always cheers me up whenever I'm feeling sad!" she said.

"Are you feeling sad tonight?" he asked.

"I guess so. I've really enjoyed seeing you every day, and I guess.. I know you aren't from this town, so you'll have to go home eventually right? I guess, I'll miss you." her smile was so sad Rengoku couldn't stand it.

"I WANT TO STAY WITH YOU! I do have to leave, I WILL WRITE TO YOU! I think you are VERY BEAUTIFUL AND I WOULD LIKE TO MARRY YOU." he blurted out.

That had been a year ago, and after what felt like an eternity of exchanging letters and brief visits between missions, Yukari was now his beloved wife. His father had not attended their wedding, but he hadn't seemed to even notice when Rengoku came home to collect Senjuro for it.

"I think that Yukari's a really nice lady." Senjuro had said.

"I think that mom would've liked her a lot."

The other Hashira were so happy for him, especially Mitsuri who couldn't seem to get enough details about their courtship. Kagaya was delighted as well, the happiness of his children was shared equally by him.

Throughout their courtship Rengoku, however much he wanted affection and intimacy, had done an amazing job of controlling himself. At most they had kissed and held hands, he didn't want to push himself onto her or rush her at all, and so he had to satisfy his urges towards her alone. It wasn't that he had never touched himself before, but it had never been so desperate. Many nights he found himself bent over on his knees in bed, clutching a pillow tightly with one hand and whispering her name into it as his other hand furiously pumped his cock.

When their wedding night finally came however, all of his fantasies dissipated, replaced with intense nervousness and apprehension. It was their first night alone in their new home together, and just the idea of seeing her naked made his entire face turn red. Yukari had just finished bathing, and now she wore a thin white yukata as she knelt in front of her mirror, combing out her hair which now reached her shoulders. He watched her with admiration, every little thing she did seemed to excite him or make him smile. Perhaps that was what it meant to be in love with someone.

"Kyou, are you ready to take a bath?" she asked, smiling at him.

"Y-YES!" he replied.

"I won't be long-" he broke off as Yukari stood and took his hand.

"Can I go with you? I'd like to help you." her voice was sultry, Rengoku couldn't stop himself from grabbing her cheeks roughly and kissing her. It felt surreal, that this soft, warm person was his wife now..

"Come along!" she said cheerfully as she broke the kiss and led him out to the bath. He nervously stripped for her and had to look away as she blatantly stared at his cock.

"Oh goodness! May I?" she asked. Rengoku wasn't sure what she was asking, but he could deny her nothing regardless.

"Yes! Of course!" his breath hitched as she took his cock in her slender fingers. He clenched his teeth as she wrapped her soft hand around it and began to slowly slide it up and down his girthy shaft, not breaking eye contact with him as she did.

"Yuka- You're making me- Very excited." he said, inhaling sharply through gritted teeth as precum already began to leak from the tip. Yukari brushed her finger across it and brought it to her lips, slowly licking it off of her fingertip.

He was so hard, just for her. But, he still needed to bathe. Fuck it, he couldn't relax like this. He scooped her up into his arms, tossing her over his shoulder.

"Ah- Kyou!" she shouted in surprise as he carried her inside.

"I absolutely cannot! Relax in this state! I WOULD LIKE TO SLEEP WITH YOU, IF YOU ARE READY TO DO SO!" he said as he gently laid her down on the futon. Yukari giggled as she opened her yukata, exposing herself for him. Rengoku breathed shallowly as he looked down at her, trying to memorize this perfect image. The exact curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts..

"Kyou~" she cooed, using a tone she had never used with him before. She reached out for him, brushing her fingers over his arm.

"Come here, please."

He crawled between her legs, leaning down to kiss her. Her lips were so plush, so soft.. He experimentally nibbled her bottom lip and she tangled her fingers into his fiery hair, pushing her tongue into his mouth. He continued trying to control himself, to not just flip her onto her hands and knees and ravage her, but sliding his tongue along hers was making self control and disciple extremely difficult. He reached between her legs, running two of his fingers between her lips and moaning into the kiss when he felt how wet she was already. He ran his fingers across her small entrance, to her clit, making her gasp. He nuzzled against her neck, kissing and licking it as he rubbed soft, gentle circles around her clit. She spread her legs wider for him, writhing as he moved lower to take one of her nipples into his mouth. He had intended just to gently suck on it, but the way her moans were becoming more and more desperate was making him less and less able to contain himself. He nibbled it roughly, smirking with satisfaction as she cried out his name.

"Kyou- I-" she broke off as she came and Rengoku leaned up to kiss her again, wanting to swallow each of her moans and whimpers. She wrapped her legs around his waist, wiggling impatiently against him. He chuckled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her tightly and nuzzling his cheek against hers.

"Kyou! I want you inside me.." she said, giggling as his hair tickled her.

"RIGHT!" he said, positioning himself against her entrance.

Yukari took his face in his hands, staring deeply into his eyes as he slowly pushed himself inside of her. Rengoku's eyelids fluttered as her warm cunt enveloped him.

"Yukari- You're so tight.." he moaned, clinging to her as he completely filled her. He stayed still a long time, enjoying the feeling of her cunt fluttering around his cock.

"Please Kyou, please move, I want you to fuck me really hard." Yukari said Rengoku could hardly believe this was real, hearing her beg for him like that..

He bent her legs, tilting her hips upwards and causing him to slide even deeper into her, as deep as physically possible. They both cried out in unison as he pressed his forehead to hers. He began to move at a relentless pace, slamming in and out of her as fast as he could. Yukari was so noisy, her eyes rolled back as she clung to him, digging her nails into his back. She was started to drool, her plump lips being open so long as she let out a string of mewls and whimpers. Rengoku licked the corner of her mouth, sighing contentedly.

"Yukari, my love." he said between groans.

"You feel so good. I'm gonna finish soon.."

Despite how deep his voice usually was, the moan he let out as he came was a desperate, needy whine.

He wasn't ready to let go of her yet. He was tired, but there was nothing he wanted more than to stay buried inside of her. He rolled over, taking her with him so she was laying on his broad chest, and together they fell asleep, still connected.

It was two months later that Yukari found out she was pregnant. Rengoku told Kagaya first.

"This is wonderful news. Congratulations to you both." he said, smiling sincerely.

"You have a duty to your wife and child. Never forget this. Before your duty to humanity. Before you are a demon slayer, you are a husband and a father."

A husband and a father. This reality didn't truly sink in until Yukari was very near to giving birth. He came home one day to find that she had fallen asleep reading. The book lay open at her feet, her belly swollen beneath her kimono, her breasts heavy. He curled up beside her, sliding his hand into her kimono to rest it against her bare stomach where their child gently kicked. He smiled, nuzzling against her.

"Kyou! I'm so glad you're home." Yukari said as she awoke. He helped her stand up and she rested her hand on her stomach.

"The little one sure was restless today, perhaps they miss you." she mused. Rengoku's heart swelled with pride. He was really going to be a father, and he would be the best he could be. Like his father had been when he was young, when his mother was still alive.

A particular mission had come to the attention of the demon hunters, one that would require a Hashira's presence. Rengoku intended to go, but Yukari was days away from giving birth. He wondered which duty he should attend. He had to protect humans, but the idea of his child entering this world without him being there broke his heart. Kagaya understood well the importance of a father's relationship with his children, and so sent Uzui Tengen to see to the train mission in his stead. Rengoku was relieved. He fully believed in Tengen's strength and knew that no matter what the demons were up to on that train, he would be able to handle it.

The following day, Yukari gave birth to a little girl. She already had a tuft of blonde/red hair on her little head, but she had Yukari's wide, brown eyes. Rengoku cried as he held them both, his beloved wife and his first child, he felt like his entire world was right there, between his strong arms.

It was three days later, while Yukari and little Ruka slept curled up together, Rengoku received the crow baring the news of Uzui's death.

He sobbed as quietly as he could, the last thing he wanted to do was wake his wife and child and distress them. His guilt was overwhelming, it should have been him who died, it should have been his mission. His body shook with rage and sorrow, until Ruka began to awake. She cooed and whined, wiggling a bit. Rengoku walked over to them, kneeling down and scooping her into his arms. She took his hair in her little fist, tugging on it and trying to put it in her mouth. He smiled down at her, though tears still ran down his cheeks. If he had gone on that mission, he would have never met his own child. Yukari would be here alone, receiving the news of his death, and Ruka would grow up fatherless. He squeezed her tightly, sobbing into the blanket she was swaddled in. When he finally calmed down, he climbed into bed with Yukari, laying Ruka down beside her and nuzzling into his wife's hair as she slept. He laid like that, an arm draped over his wife to rest his hand on Ruka's tummy, sobbing until he fell asleep.

Thirteen months later, Rengoku sat with Ruka in the kitchen, helping her eat rice. She had been babbling so much lately, he and Yukari knew her first word would be coming soon.

"Oo..aauu..." she began and Rengoku excitedly leapt from his chair.

"YES? ARE YOU SPEAKING?" he shouted.

"UU..Oo.." Ruka struggled, determination evident on her tiny face.

"OTOU-SAN?" Rengoku said, full of hope that she was finally going to be able to call him her father.

"Uu.. UMAI!" she shouted triumphantly.

[rosecolouredmind]

Savior

Nicholas Scratch x Reader

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Part One:

The Beginning

Somehow, it felt like the fates didn’t think much of you.

You were lucky enough to be the youngest soul inducted into the Stela Consulate — your untimely death on your home planet was a quiet, humble affair. The fates took you young, by sickness; your family mourned, then moved on. Your parents grieved for longer, but then they too moved on with their lives.

Fate had a larger destiny in store that what Earth could have afforded you; or, at least you thought before...now.

“Stela Treis, I...Earth cannot be my assigned domain.”

The following silence in the room was palpable. Above you was what looked to be a seat made of live stars, gaseous and glowing. The platform below it was an endless black, along with the surrounding room.

You had just seen the stars from this same “chair” slowly spread across the now dark platform, your body seated atop it just moments before. The Stela Council had observed quietly as countless galaxies traversed beneath their feet, beneath your feet. You’d waited for this moment for what you felt, and were told, was your entire existence. You felt as if you were human again, insecurity and discomfort culminating into a massive pit in your stomach. You were convinced that if you could have, you would have shat yourself.

Whenever a new stela sat atop that chair, the fates mapped their destiny...and subsequently, the destiny of their star domain. You felt as if you had become one with the universe, the powers that be imbuing you with strength and purpose.

Your purpose.

Was...Earth?

The pretty blue object before you certainly looked familiar, the green colored earth standing out proudly. This unassuming planet was where you’d come to be, thus your learnings were centered around it’s history. Earth was not yet to the level of requiring an assigned stela as it has not reached the level of interfering with other cosmos; interplanetary travel within their own solar system was still far out of reach, for Fate’s sake! So how could your homely little birthplace have put itself on the map after billions of years of not even being a blip on the radar?

And smack above it was a brilliant green star. The North star had turned green.

“Head Stela Treis. That cannot be a - an unlucky star! Above Earth! How did I even get Earth?! Isn’t the likelihood of being assigned your home planet like one in a -- a -- an impossibility?!”

The blasted woman continued to ignore you, staring fixedly at the North star — Polaris. There were many iterations of the importance of the North star in Earthling history, but they all had the same general concept and meaning for what the star represented:

Home. A Guiding Light.

And such a symbol was currently heralding the dark days.

“Stela (Y/n),” Stela Treis began slowly.

This damned woman actually used your name, your actual name with your title, and your heart finally sunk to the floor. Stela (Y/n). You were Stela (Y/n) of fucking Earth with a goddamn green star hanging above it --

“Stela (Y/n) of Earth. This is your mission,” she continued.

Every eye in the room was on Treis, the massive throng of alarmed voices quieting down. Your heart was nearly beating out of your chest, and you were sure your face was a picture of horror. No new stela had ever taken over a green star before; it signaled the end of days for a domain and was nigh impossible to get rid of. Stelas who have had a history of leading turbulent domains to an unprecedented era of peace are generally reassigned green star domains -- much more seasoned and powerful stelas than you. And even amongst those figures, only a tiny amount across countless systems have actually succeeded in rehabilitating such a star. Darkness wins far more often, enveloping those systems in black holes, stellar explosions and obliteration.

It was a glorious thing to save a green star, but if you failed…

“Earth is in...trouble. I cannot yet tell what of, as the coming ominous lies beyond the domain still. It’s origin star has turned green, but there’s also a few more stars in your domain that concern me.”

Hearing Earth officially called your domain made you want to puncture your own eardrums in annoyance, but the serious look on Treis’ face and the clear discomfort of the councilmembers surrounding her made you swallow your indignation and elect to glare at the floor instead.

You’d spent your entire existence once inducted into the consulate learning the conflicts of Earth - something about learning on home ground and how it prepared you for your own domain some day. And now that day has come, and you learn that you’re going to be stuck in the same exact place?

It may be willful, but you were eager to prove yourself capable like every other accomplished stela. This included establishing yourself and your influence in new territory, your territory. The glory of your domain would rise and fall with you.

You had wanted to prove yourself, but this…

This terrified you.

The moving of the constellations beneath your feet once again snapped you out of your train of thought, the stern voice you’d previously been drowning out floating into your ears once again.

“This particular star seems to have been the beginning of it all. And even more peculiar is what it’s attached to -- or what’s attached to it,”

Treis had brought the map deeper into your star domain, finally stopping on a bright red star.

“Is that a star of misfortune?!” you shriek. Your eyes are wide as saucers, and normally you’d melt under the looks of disapproval you were receiving but right now you were too stunned to care. A bloody star of misfortune was the cause of all of this, one person! That was the brightest red you’d ever seen on a star, and you’d seen the stars of plenty of terrible figures in history.

The deep frown on Treis’ face said it all, the woman walking forward until she stopped right in front of you. She stared you dead in the face, placing her arms behind her back before responding.

“That is the star of Lucifer Morningstar.”

The hall burst into noise once again as voices started to raise and people clamoured over each other. Shouts of dissent rang out as everyone in the room voiced their opinions.

How could this have happened?

She’s not ready!

That entire domain is doomed!

Fate has abandoned them.

Disapproval was clearly the common theme the council had decided on, but you were too distracted with the prior revelation to properly acknowledge it.

Lucifer Morningstar had a fated star.

The fucking Devil.

Every soul was born with a fated star. Your star was fate’s marker on you. The only beings without fated stars were celestial beings and the Others - beings who operated outside of the universe’s workings. How celestials came into existence exactly was a mystery. Stelas generally believed it was the power of faith, though. In even looser, and probably more correct terms: ‘believe, and it certainly exists.’ Faith was a medium that didn’t operate within the confines of fate. Major celestials bore from Earth include any figure that has been immortalized via faith. Once borne of the world, they operate entirely on their own and outside of fate. An extreme example would be the elusive figure the humans frequently call God -- the current most powerful example of a celestial born from faith. These can even influence the fate of those in their domain.

This goes to say, even if Earth was not particularly advanced, a stela would have still been assigned to oversee it. But humans are passionate and complicated and a lot more stubborn than most races, which meant an unusual abundance of celestial beings were born from there. Because they operate outside of fate’s laws, their domains are usually hidden from the Constellation Map. This is the first time since humanity appeared on Earth that the planet has been seen on the map, a momentous occasion.

And it was assigned to a newbie like you.

“How on...earth did Lucifer Morningstar get a star? Shouldn’t that be impossible? He’s a celestial, he doesn’t have a tangible soul,” you exclaim.

“He didn’t.” she corrected. “But now…” she gestured to his star as you stared dumbly at the bright red light between you. After focusing your gaze, you can just make out a dim, faintly flickering light at the corner of it.

“Is that someone’s star?” you ask softly, moving closer. The star was barely visible, as if all the lifeforce had been drained from it. The red light from Lucifer’s star nearly made you overlook the pale white glow this one gave off, the two being infinitely close.

“This is the star of a regular person, isn’t it? Why does it seem attached to Lucifer’s? And its lifeforce seems young but very, very weak…” you trailed off. Something about this star called out to you, intense feelings of pity and nurturing washing over you. Your instincts wished to nurse this star, this person, back to the bright light you just knew it would have been. You can tell a lot about a person through their fated star, and you didn’t need to look too deeply to tell that this one was special. So how did it end up in this position?

“You are going to find that out,” a sharp voice rang out. You didn’t bother finding its source, beyond irritated with the situation already. This was the first time another councilmember had spoken this entire time, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes back into your skull. They were criticizing your ability only moments before, but now expected you to play detective to a catastrophe caused by an actual celestial being?

“They are right. For now, this is still your assigned domain, and the fates must have had a reason for it. You are to find the source of this issue, starting with Lucifer. Have a word with him; we will project you to his location.”

“Before my ceremony?!”

“Will will arrange the details of your ceremony later. Until then, we shall deliver you directly to your destination.”

This was not how your domain assignment was supposed to go, you thought bitterly.

It was no secret how shitty you felt about the situation, but the heavy looks of distrust the rest of the council members were sending you as you approached the center of the Constellation Map had you seething. They didn’t believe you could handle it, hell, you didn’t believe you could handle it! But…

You were always a prideful thing.

At the beckoning of Stela Treis, you slowly reached your hand out before you to touch the bright red star in the center of the room. As reality warped around you, you heard warbled words of encouragement leaking through before everything went black.

And then, all you saw was RED.

*

Part Two: The Morningstar will be posted approximately 30 minutes from this one. Stay tuned!

Author’s Note: This story was originally on one of my side blogs, @unaccomplishedwriter. This account was made to post my content with the full site functions available for use unlike the previous blog. The entire story will be reedited, reposted, and continued here.

Please ask if you’d like to be added to the tag list. Thank you!

[serenityseventeen]

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The Sixth Letter

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

To: Lee Jihoon

From: Y/N

I'm sorry.

Jihoon, I will not blame you for anything. If I were in your shoes, I would have been even more irritated than you were. I'm still irritated, actually.

I know for certain that you probably hate me so I will begin this letter for you by reminding us of our good times when no one was there to butt in.

When we first met in tech audio, I was really surprised that you were a musical genius. You knew how to work the garage band app right away and since we sat next to each other, I could already tell that you were familiar with it.

You were also able to play the guitar and the piano. I've always liked music so seeing someone play those two instruments just fascinated me. Not only that, but you also played the clarinet well.

You've probably lived around music all your life, right? I listen to music almost everywhere I go, every day, it's one of my human needs, but I have to admit, even after learning a bit of piano from you, I still have almost no idea about music. Genres of music are still hard to identify for me and I can still barely tell the difference in chords. I'm still thankful that you took the time out of your worktime to help me understand more about music.

Honestly, when I first saw you, Jihoon, I was intimidated. You didn't like exactly friendly and I just stupidly thought that you were one of those ‘perfectionist’ students who only cared for their grades and being the best. Also, just the way you looked when you didn't smile gave me that impression. However, when you smiled, you looked completely different. You looked cute. We laughed a lot together too.

I bet you that on our first assignment, I must've looked like a complete tech idiot. The assignment was just to come up with your original piece of music by messing around on the app. Was my confusion that easy to see through?

I don't know, but I think the moment that you helped me was when I started to realize you as the person you are now. You taught me how to use the app in such a gentle tone, you know that? I still feel like I can listen to your voice forever and I won't get bored of it.

I was happy with our forming friendship. I felt like I could truly be your friend. Plus, we had one other class together so I was able to talk with you a lot about music. Everything you say fascinates me and makes me believe that you are a musical genius. I still believe that you are even if I can't hear your songs anymore.

Speaking of your music, I think you should become a ‘pro’ music producer, lyricist, composer, songwriter, of them all. Your talent in music is truly undeniable!

That first piece you showed me called “17”, I have to say that that song may be my favorite out of all the songs you've sent me. I still have all the music files stored in my phone and I'll never delete them. It's not because I still like you that I'm keeping them but it's because I like the song. I might put them into an mp3 player and stick them on the back of this letter. Out of the 13 songs you've shown me, there was not one that I disliked.

Your voice is also heavenly. I love it. I don't understand why you aren't getting yourself a whole career already! You don't know this but when I was playing your song “Rock”, my father was totally digging it! Even my next-door neighbor wanted to know who was the artist behind “20”!

There was also that time when you were helping me learn how to read music using the piano and our hands kept brushing against each other. Our shoulders were also glued together because the seat was so small. If your heart was racing just as much as how pink your ears turned, then please, believe me, my heart was beating twice as fast.

You didn't just teach me music and show me your creations, you also shared music that you enjoyed. A lot of the songs are still in my playlist. You have great taste in music too, Jihoon. I enjoyed every moment we spent just sitting at the window of the classroom, sharing headphones and listening to the songs you liked.

When they were love songs, I just couldn't help thinking that you chose the song for a reason. I'm quite an overthinker. I always thought that maybe one of the songs you showed me held your heart and maybe they did, but now I'll never know.

I'm your fan, Jihoon, even though you probably wouldn't want me to be anymore. I still admire you and I respect you a lot, that's why I'm deciding to write you this letter. I'm not going to get too close to you, I won't even try to bring us back to what we were because now, it's too awkward between us. I know that deep inside, you must feel so a deep hatred toward me, even if it wasn't entirely my fault.

I've realized what kind of person you are, Jihoon. You're kind, caring, talented in almost everything, shy, and stubborn. You love music. You hate it when someone who isn't close to you gets all up in your business as if they know everything. You also hate narcissists. You're selfless and humble.

I don't know who you told but I'm sorry. Your trust must have been completely broken. I mean, I can just imagine how painful it would be, being an introvert and telling someone your crush while trusting them to keep the secret only to have them spill it to the person's friends.

I hate my friends because they ruined our relationship but since they are my friends, I just can't abandon them as if we didn't spend years being best buddies. I've been distancing myself from them for a while now but I think it won't be long until we continue hanging out again. I want to hang out with you too but you must feel so... angry.

I heard that you're not friends with the guy who leaked the secret that you liked me. I truly hope that you can find a friend that is a true friend. I don't want you to live in fear and keep everything to yourself. I'll always be here for you though, so please, even if I don't speak with you, you can speak to me.

Gosh, what am I saying? It can't be fixed.

You must've overheard it when my friends dragged me away from your cafeteria table and whispered to me, “Did you know? He likes you!”

I was flustered and when I turned back to you, I still remember seeing your hands clench. That's when I sort of knew that we wouldn't be friends anymore.

Even after having your trust broken, you continued to hang out around me, which made me believe that if I confessed my feelings to you when the time was right, we could fall in love. So, I spent a lot of time learning about you.

That's when my friends came in again. They started teasing us in front of the whole class, saying all that stupid cheesy shit. I was ready angry and kept telling them to stop but they wouldn't because they just thought I was like them.

‘When you're in high school, you don't want the person in the relationship, you just want a relationship.’

That was not the case for me but that's what they thought. I wanted you, Jihoon. I was ready to teach you about me and get to know you better so that when I was ready to love, we would be able to stay together.

My friends are stupid.

They continued to pressure us to be together.

Knowing you, you must've gotten extremely annoyed and fed up with it, enough for you to end your friendship with me. And that's exactly what happened, right?

Each day, for a month, they came to our desks singing stupid love songs meant for children. They were so childish and I was growing so sick of it. I knew that you didn't like that shit. I knew that you were just enduring it but I couldn't stop it and I'm sorry.

We went through all that humiliation together. I think we could have had a better love story if your friend didn't leak your secret and my friends didn't act like children. I saw sparks in your eyes, that's why I had hope that we could fall in love together, but we couldn't even get ready to love.

I just remember that day when you ignored me. I was telling you that your piece sounded good and asked if I could get a listen, but you didn't reply to me at all. You still don't talk to me. It makes my heart ache.

When our friendship got ruined, I almost ruined my other friendships too. You don't know this but they kept pestering me, asking if you and I were finally dating and if we had a couple fight. They kept reassuring me as if they knew what we were going through and saying that it was just a small love fight and that we would recover soon. They didn't even know the problem was them so I yelled at them.

In the middle of the cafeteria, I slammed my hands on the table and shouted at them. I'm sure you heard me, you were in the same room. I'm pretty sure that you didn't know about this either but when I left the cafeteria in anger, I cried in the stall of a bathroom.

Now, I'm fine.

I wonder what you thought of me then. I mean, we still had to see each other but we didn't talk to each other like we were strangers. I was angry at you for not understanding me so I didn't want to speak or even glance in your direction, even if it did hurt to ignore you.

I think I know what you feel but all I'm thinking about your emotions are just assumptions in the end. You're a stranger to me now. A stranger that I loved.

You brought me the colors of music.

If only things didn't have to turn out so negatively. If only one friend kept his promise of keeping a secret... If only a group of friends didn't tease so annoyingly... Maybe then, things would be different.

Oh yeah, I'm sorry about this too. I overheard you playing a song the other day. Don't worry, I didn't record it but I cried to it. I just have a feeling that the song was about me. All the lyrics, the depressing but gorgeous sound of the piano, your emotional voice, it all brought tears to my eyes. Were you in pain?

I had never heard the song before. When I cried to it, I had my hands covering my mouth to keep noise from slipping. I don't know if you heard me because you just continued singing.

“Maybe I could have been a man

when everyone was telling me to.

But both choices were selfish,

keep you close or let me go,

so I chose

let's just not fall in love.”

I think your choice was for the better.

Sincerely,

Y/N

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

© serenityseventeen

6/21/21 - 11:01 am

a/n: sigh... I feel like this letter was so relatable on so many levels. My former friends were like that, always wanting a relationship but not the person in the relationship. They're too desperate. + ARTHUR KYEOM COMEBACK!??!? SVT CHINESE DRAMA OST!?!?

[harmonizingsunsets]

I can feel your heart beating under my skin

Day 4 of Kate x Anthony week, prompt: no ifs, ands, or buts.

Archive link here.

(Also inspired by the leaked photos of season 2)

The Bridgertons invited the three Sharma's out for the last horse race of the season for entertainment. However, Kate knew this was all a scheme so Anthony could spend more time with Edwina. She didn't doubt the Bridgertons enjoyed watching a horse race, as they seem like the competitive sort. But, she knew Anthony's true intentions behind the invitation.

When they arrive at the event, Anthony's waiting right in the front. He smiles from across the way, and it grows even more prominent as Kate intensifies her glare.

"He looks rather handsome today, don't you think?" Edwina whispers.

"The color doesn't suit him," Kate shakes her head. However, her eyes linger up and down his form. "But I don't blame the shade. I don't think anything suits him."

"You both are wearing blue. It's like fate!"

Kate thinks that if fate was involved, it's more so a cruel twist of it than any romantic notions Edwina has in her mind.

As they near Anthony, his eyes find hers. She tries conveying as much distaste for being in his company that she can, without looking too impolite. Within a few seconds, Mary nudges her arm, making Kate think she hadn't succeeded in being conspicuous of her hatred.

He and the other Bridgertons escort them inside, but Kate stops by the betting area. It leads her and Anthony to row about the horses.

Kate wants to place a bet on the horse Apollo. While she's never been to a race in person, she keeps up with records in the paper. The odds aren't in his favor, as it's his first season, but he's been improving steadily over the past few months. Kate has a feeling that today will be his day.

Anthony, however, was placing all his money on Archer, the favorite of the year. Kate forces herself to raise her head high as she places her bet, showing complete confidence in her choice despite Anthony's warnings.

Edwina and Mary didn't place any bets. To be fair, Kate hadn't planned to make a bet either. However, she seems to be doing many unexpected things whenever she's in the presence of Lord Bridgerton.

When they make it up the steps to their seats, Kate asserts herself between Edwina and him. Anthony gives her an annoyed look, knowing what she's doing. Kate smiles broadly in response, turning her face towards the track.

"You can still back out, you know," Anthony whispers beside her. "They usually don't let people retract their bets, but I think they could make an exception. You know, if I tell them you're soon to be part of my family."

"No exception needs to be made. I am not backing out," Kate states firmly. "Why would I, when I have the winning horse?"

"Your winning horse hasn't won a single race in his career."

"It's his first year. His career is just getting started," Kate defends, squirming slightly. "Today is the day he will succeed."

"It's just like you not to root for the most accomplished horse, the one with the most promising record. Your logic goes beyond sense."

"And your pride goes beyond reason," Kate snaps.

"Beyond reason? Status, money, and coming from a good family are not reasons?"

Kate frowns, knowing that they are good reasons. They are reasons that would make any other sister proud to approve of such a match for their sibling. But it wasn't fair that Edwina had to take on so much pressure to marry well. Edwina should marry someone she has affection towards, who isn't such a rake.

But while Kate knows Edwina didn't love Anthony, nor would ever love him, she knows Edwina could be content. Anthony could give her anything she desired. She would be a viscountess, and their marriage, while not founded in love, could perhaps be based on respect. Most people were not so lucky to have such a match.

Yet, Kate couldn't approve the union. Not just because he was a rake, or because Kate found him intolerable—but because of something else. Something she can't describe but can feel twisting painfully in her gut whenever she pictures Edwina and Anthony together.

"They are reasons that society values, and I cannot ignore having merit," Kate relents after a moment, her words careful but firm. "But, they are not the only factors that matter."

Anthony's anger fades a little, his eyes focusing intently on hers. "What factor am I missing?"

Kate opens her mouth to respond but finds her throat dry. Anthony's eyes pivot their focus on her eyes to her parted lips.

She feels something undefinable in her stomach again. But this time, it's not a painful sensation. It's something warm and is more of a fluttering feeling instead of a tug. The only thing similar to what she feels when thinking of Edwina and Anthony is the same deep ache. It starts in the pit of her stomach and flows throughout her body.

Kate's startled out of her thoughts as she hears a horse neighing in the distance, kicking at the doors that contain them.

"It's about to start," Kate says, standing up with the rest of the crowd.

Anthony blinks a few times as if he'd just looked right into the sunlight and nods.

They both turn to the track. The crowd is abuzz with excitement. Kate hears someone countdown, and the horses begin running.

Kate gets swept up in it, standing up and shouting encouragement as Apollo gallops farther forward each second. Anthony cheers loudly for his horse beside her, who has a lead over the rest.

Kate also hears what she thinks are curses from Lady Danbury behind them. She mutters something about ill-advice she'd gotten before the race.

As the horses round the corner, Apollo edges past Archer, his speed increasing. Kate, in her excitement, whistles loudly, not caring at the moment how unladylike she appears.

When the horses are a few feet within the finish line, Kate feels a flash of lightning strike her palm.

Anthony's hand is suddenly in hers, gripping it tightly in anticipation as he watches the race.

Kate's breath comes in and out more sharply, unable to steady the pace of it. Her senses, instead, are all at work in her hand. They memorize the grooves of his palm and the warmth of his touch.

At that moment, Kate thinks her hand has never served its entire purpose as a hand until Anthony held onto it.

Apollo was edging past Archer, but her eyes couldn't focus on the horse. She stares at his bare hand, resting on top of her glove. Kate finds herself curious how it would feel if she took her glove off and entwined her fingers with his.

If Anthony's hand on her glove summoned lighting, she can't imagine what kind of storm would appear if his skin brushed against hers.

As the crowd's cheers become louder, she forces her eyes towards the track and sees her horse cross the finish line. Anthony's hand falls from hers, his mouth wide in shock. Kate jumps up and down in delight.

"I won!"

"You didn't win. The horse did," Anthony says bitterly.

"The horse I bet on, the one you said I was a fool to choose because no one else bet on it." Kate folds her arms across her chest with a triumphant smirk. "Well, Lord Bridgerton, sometimes the best bets are on overlooked things."

Anthony's disappointed expression falters, his eyes studying her intently.

"Perhaps you're right," he murmurs.

Kate smirks. "Did you just say I'm right?"

"I said perhaps," he specifies with a roll of his eyes. "I should fetch some refreshments if you're feeling faint and missing entire words from other's sentences."

"I don't feel faint. Actually, I feel better than I have in a long time."

Edwina stands from where she had remained sitting the entire race. "I could do with a refreshment."

Anthony startles a bit, appearing as if he'd forgotten she was there.

"Ah, yes...of course. I shall return shortly."

"When you return, I shall be a richer woman," Kate says before he turns away, unable to resist continuing to jest about his loss. "I will pay you back for the refreshment since you are recently low on money."

"You are not a humble winner, Ms. Sharma."

"No, but I am a victorious one."

He shakes his head at her, but she can see a bit of amusement twitching at his lips as he turns away. Kate watches him leave for a moment. When she turns back around, she sees Edwina watching her with a coy smile.

"So, did you enjoy the race?" Kate asks.

"Not as much as I enjoyed watching you and Lord Bridgerton."

Kate gaps at her sister. "What are you referring to?"

"Oh, please! He forgot I was next to him. His only focus was on the horses, you, and your hand."

Kate shifts her feet awkwardly. "Perhaps he thought it was yours."

"Or perhaps, your hand was more enticing than mine."

Kate sighs. "Edwina, that's not—."

"Kate, it's alright," Edwina assures, not looking bothered in the slightest.

"No, it's not," Kate insists. "He's your suitor, a suitor who I do not approve of but is one nonetheless. He should pay attention to you and not the horses."

Edwina puts her hands on her hips. "Or perhaps, he's taking your advice and paying attention to a bet that's overlooked but extremely valuable."

Before Kate can respond, Anthony approaches their side, holding out glasses of water. "Here are the refreshments."

Edwina takes a glass, but Kate doesn't take hers, stepping around him. "I should head up to the box to claim my winnings."

"Would you like me to accompany you?"

Kate narrows her eyes. "I think I can make it a few yards without a gentlemen's protection."

"Excluding my brothers in attendance, most men here are not gentlemen," he argues.

"Yes, especially when putting you into account," Kate says, enjoying the way his face hardens at her insult. "But, I think I can manage."

She doesn't want to leave Edwina alone with him, but Mary is on her other side, and his brothers are close as well. She doesn't trust Anthony as far as she can throw him, but she doubts anything improper would occur in such a public place or the presence of family members.

After claiming her winnings, Kate begins to walk back to her seat but bumps into Mrs. Bridgerton.

"Congrats on your win, Ms. Sharma," Violet says before Kate can get out her apology.

"Thank you, Mrs. Bridgerton," she says. "Did you bet on one of the horses?"

"I bet on something before the race, but it wasn't on one of the horses."

Kate quirks her head. "Oh really?"

"It was a bet that Colin proposed, that Benedict bet against, and I bet for," she explains, a joyful sparkle in her eyes. "I am proud to say that my son Benedict lost."

"What was the bet? That Lady Danbury would jump and ride her horse to victory if it hadn't gone fast enough?"

"No, but that would have been quite the sight," Violet chuckles.

"Then what was it about?"

"Let's just say the horses we bet on are closer than the ones on the track."

Kate's face flushes, and Violet's smile widens.

"Have a good afternoon, Ms. Sharma. Wish your sister my best."

"I...yes, of course," she stutters.

Instead of rejoining the group, Kate waits for them near the entrance gate. But she's not alone for too long. She sees Anthony approaching her by himself. The others must be still chatting in their seats. Kate considers turning away, but she knows it would look like she's trying to escape from him.

"So, you gathered your winnings for the horse?" he asks, pointing at the pouch in her hand.

"I—uh, yes. It's from no other bet, I assure you."

"You're cowering out on gambling after you've had your first win?" Anthony steps towards her and shrugs. "Just as well, it was due to beginners' luck, anyway."

"It was not luck. I made the right bet," Kate corrects. "Why can't you admit that I bested you?"

"Where would be the fun in that?"

"This is fun?"

Anthony's eyes gleam wickedly. "Well, it is, isn't it?"

Kate's heart quickens, and she takes a step back.

"I should go to my sister, make sure you didn't sneak some potion into her drink to convince her that you're not intolerable," Kate says, changing the topic. "But if such a potion did exist, I doubt it would be strong enough."

As Kate begins to walk back, she uses the railing on the other side for balance. But as she reaches the edge, a nail snags on her glove, slashing right through it.

Kate curses under her breath, clutching her hand. Anthony quickly runs to her side, eyes wide and worried.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I just tore my glove."

"And cut your hand," Anthony adds and holds out his palm to her. "Let me see, Ms. Sharma."

Kate whips her arm behind her back. "I am perfectly alright."

Anthony steps closer, a more serious look on his face than she's ever seen on him.

"Let me see."

It's not a question. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about Anthony's tone. Kate pulls her hand out from behind her back and hesitantly holds it out to him. Anthony takes it, gently slipping off her glove and inspecting the wound.

Kate forces herself not to shudder as his fingers dance across her skin. She knows he's trying to observe the cut, but his thumb lingers on each line of her hand, and he draws circles on her palm unnecessarily.

Anthony's heartbeat somehow passes through his touch, and she feels it beating underneath her skin.

"It's not too deep. Perhaps an ointment would make it heal within a week or two," Anthony says, his voice somewhat lower than before. He turns to look at the glove in his other hand, which has a large hole in it. "But I'm not sure your glove is as salvageable."

"I could sew it, but it would look rather obvious," Kate sighs sadly. "I better toss it."

She goes to reach for the glove, but Anthony pulls it out of her reach. "I'll take care of it."

"Discarding one glove won't make me change my mind about you and Edwina," Kate protests.

"I doubt it would," Anthony says, looking like he's fighting off a smile. "But just the same, I'll take care of it."

Kate wants to argue but sees that this is something even she can't move him on. She nods and continues her way back to their seats.

But, she unwisely spares a glance back at Anthony. He doesn't toss the glove. Instead, he pockets it.

Kate forces her eyes forward, trying not to get carried away in romantic notions that could never apply to her.

When she makes it back to the stands, she finds Edwina waiting for her.

"There you are, what took you so—wait, a different question," Edwina cuts herself off, looking down at Kate's bare hand. "Where is your glove?"

"Oh, I tore it against a nail."

"Where is the glove? Perhaps I can mend it."

Kate waves her off. "No, that's alright."

As Edwina studies her curiously, Kate thinks back to the feeling of Anthony's hand on hers and the weight of his stare.

Kate's previous notion had been correct. Anthony's bare hand in hers did bring forth a storm. It was a storm that was unpredictable and dangerous but alluring all the same.

"I have a feeling that glove is something I can never get back once given," Kate whispers, so quietly that Edwina doesn't hear a single word.

As they leave, Kate sees the clouds darkening and brewing with newfound energy. It tells her the storm isn't over.

Instead, it's just beginning.

[blownbybakugou]

Confessions

Midoriya

you will never see him more nervous than he is in that moment

he'll be sweating atrociously, and the flowers he bought for you nearly slip out of his damn hand because he's shaking so much

the poor kid can barely form a sentence too, he's just standing there in front of you mumbling words.

and he's trying so hard to keep eye contact with you, but just the thought of looking at your pretty face makes him super dizzy

when you say you'll go out with him he literally burst out crying in joy with how happy he is.

 “i r-really like y-you, y/n-Chan! p-please accept m-my f-f-feelings!” izuku stammers, shoving out a bouquet of pretty lavenders in front of him. his head was lowered, but his eyes kept attempting to meet yours as he shook in a constant rhythm.

 “i like you too, izu-kun!” you giggle. deku lifts his head and grins widely while his eyes begin to brim with tears. you embrace him tightly and let his trembling arms wrap around your torso.

Bakugou

he nearly scares the shit out of you with how aggressively he asks you out

and trust me, he doesn't ask you to be his girlfriend, he demands it.

but really, he's sweet about how he does it, he just doesn't really know how.

honestly, i think he believes he's being romantic about it, so just say yes and don't question it.

 “be my fucking girlfriend.” bakugou commands, his usual scowl adorning his face. you blink in surprise at his outburst but lean in to hug him nonetheless. “wh-what the hell are you doing, idiot! touch me and I’ll blow you to smithereens!” he shouts, yanking himself away from you. “but, bakugou-kun, aren’t couples supposed to hug?” you exclaim, showing faux confusion on your delicate features. katsuki huffs as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “whatever, dumbass” he mumbles, the pink tint on his face making you smile softly.

Todoroki

he gets straight to the point. he doesn't fuck around.

like, he just says what he needs to, and then that's that.

like izuku he brings you a flower, but it's the classic rose.

it’s still cute even if it’s simple, don't worry.

   “i have feelings for you l/n-San.” shouto deadpans, staring you straight in the eye with an unreadable expression. in his right hand there was a rose that he handed to you with extreme care. “e-eh?! todoroki-kun, are you s-sure?” you stutter, bashfully rubbing your arm. he nods, clearly confused at why you would assume he was lying. “i, like you too todoroki-kun.” you respond with a dark blush staining your cheeks. you lightly wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into his chest in embarrassment. he returns your gesture hesitantly and coddles you in his warmth.

Kirishima

he really reels in the confidence for this one, but we know he's secretly terrified of losing you

in fact, you guy would probably be friends for the longest time because he's too scared to ask you out, and there's a chance he wouldn't do it anyway.

so, either you ask him out or it takes him years to gain the courage to ask you out.

he would act like he's super confident too, when you can tell he's almost dying inside.

“hey, y/n, do you wanna go on a date this saturday?” kiri calls after you, a clear forced look of confidence plastered o his face. You stop, frozen by the heat rising across your face and burning the tips of your ears. “u-uh, are sure you have the right person?” you mutter, fiddling with your fingers in embarrassment. “the person i really like? i think i definitely have the right gal” he smiles gently, taking your hand in his. “i suppose i wouldn’t mind” you hum, leaning your head onto his chest to hear his hammering heartbeat. “here, i got you these.” he grins, handing you a bunch of daisies. “thank you, kirishima-kun.” you laugh, gushing at his adorable thoughtfulness. he only continues to smile humbly in return. “see you on saturday, princess”

Monoma

• this rat bastard somehow managed to ask you out through insults.

• and he made sure to make a huge fucking deal out it too, practically shouting it for the whole school to hear

• and of course, he had to do it directly in front of your class, 1-a

 “oh, look, it’s the only girl that doesn’t belong in 1-A!” your eyes roll at his super obvious exclusion of you once again, because in a way you knew that this was his way of comlimenting you. “i wonder why one of those 1-a losers haven’t snatched her up yet, she is right up their league” He snickers in triumph, his hand thrashing in the air. “just ask her out already you dumbass!” kendo shouts angerily at him as she slaps the back of neito’s head. 

   “oh, she’s too stupid to notice my feelings, she is from 1-a after all” He boasts confidently. “if you liked me, you could’ve just said so,” you remark, crossing your arms as you stare at him, clearly ticked off.

“well, i like you. hear that you 1-a scums?! this girl is mine now!”

[kookies2000]

Third after story! The longest one. At least six chapters or ten. It's also my favorite because I got to insert Duck Tale authors into this one. Katie, Dalek and Jordan being a few. As a thank you for always supporting me. Hope any author who is in this story feels like I did you justice!

"Let the Games Begin!" 

The family reunion is finally here after being delayed multiple times. Many are entering to compete in The Battle of the Gods. The Mcducks are excited to represent the Goddess of Love, until the games start getting too intense. Competitors are letting personal grudges take over to the point where people might actually get hurt or worse.

###

"Abigor and I were really close when we were kids, but I still have bonds with other cousins, you know." Lizzette said plainly as they walked across the beach.

"Really? You always talked about Abigor. What other cousins are you close to?" Webby asked in her usual cheery tone.

"Lizzette?" Everyone heard an even more cheerier tone from a distance. In the crowd they could see an orange colorful bird jumping up and down. With each jump getting him closer to them.

"Lizzette, it's really her!" The bird cheered at the top of his lungs. He jumped over the entire crowd like a cartoon character on a trampoline. Each jump got higher until he was right above them.

"Lizzette!" The brid zoomed right past them smashing himself onto a giant rock in the sand.

"Oh!.... Is he ok?" Huey cringed at the sight. As if nothing happened, the orange and yellow bird peeled away from the rock as if he was a sticker. The strange physics freaked out some of the teens except for Lizzette.

"Cartoon logic, you always did want that power." Lizzette laughed before being tackled into a hug.

###

"Are we seriously going to die here?" Louie shouted in terror. He felt his hand slip away from Webbys and could feel himself getting sucked deeper into the crowd. People were getting tossed out of line making them out of the race. It was crazy, people kept shoving everyone out of bounce, many flew over him and some even slipped past him making him feel extremely uncomfortable.

"Excuse me Mr!" He felt a young white duck squeeze past him. He nearly tripped from how small this girl was. She slipped past everyone as if she was made of liquid.

"Kate!" A brown dog that was flying over the crowd looked down at her, "You know you can travel underground?"

"Oh! Thanks Gabby." Katie waved to the dog that was clearly in her team. In a blink of an eye, the Katie girl transformed her body into water and she sank into the dirt below. Louie couldn't help but look in amazement. So many descendants of greek gods and their friends were gifted with powers he's never even heard of.

###

"Who's cleaning this up?" Huey felt slightly intimidated by the team's loud enthusiasm.

"Sorry." Gabby groaned as she grabbed a towel from the counter, "Some of our team members can get a little reckless."

With that, Gabby snatched the bottle out of Rebeys hands and replaced it with the towel.

"Hey! Let's have a little fun tonight. We all made it to the next round against hundreds! Starting Monday we're going to be competing in the Battle of the Gods!" Rebey let out a rough cheer as she jumped down to clean the spill.

"I like to keep the dorms clean this time." Gabby glared down at the girl.

"So, team Demeter huh?" Louie confidently walked up to the lady and leaned on the counter, "I hear you guys are the big shot here?"

"We won the Battle of the Gods four years in a row." A black duck appeared right behind him. Louie let out a loud squeak of fear before coughing behind his arm.

"Four years?" Louie cleared his throat of any cracks. He didn't even notice there was a brown and black dog next to the duck. Her curly hair held into a loose bun. The black duck gave a smirk and nod. He wore mostly black clothing with two long swords behind his back forming an X.

"The names Ninja." The guy held out his hand for a shake. Louie took the hand shake and looked at the guy questionably.

"Ninja? Like the Japanese ninja guys?" He asked.

"Yep, it's a nickname." Ninja let out a low giggle. Louie felt a little intimidated by the guy's presents. Just from the way he quietly showed up out of nowhere.

"So, you want to tell me your real name." Louie asked hopefully.

"Nope." Ninja winked playfully before walking away. The brown and black dog, who looked like she was about to explode from excitement, grabbed Louie's hand and shook it so hard he swore his wrist was about to be torn off.

"Salutations my friend! The names Mimi and I just wanted to welcome you and your team into the dorm rooms!" She chimed without letting go of his hand. Louie had to pull his hand away before he could lose it.

"Hi?" He wasn't sure how to respond to this hyper girl.

"Mimi, help me unpack!" Ninja called out.

"Ok!" The excited girl ran off.

"Don't mind them." A dark brown duck walked up to Louie. He shyly put out his hand for a hand shake as well to which Louie took. This guy had a lighter and kinder feel to him. Brown eyes behind some thick glasses and black hair over his forehead, "Christopher, but you can call me Chris."

"Louie." The rich duck felt more comfortable with this guy.

"Don't feel intimidated by us please." A small green hummingbird appeared behind him. This one also had a cute and kind feel to her. Gold round glasses over her warm brown eyes, "Some of our teammates are just over confident about our four year winning streak."

"You guys must be pretty amazing to win four times in a row?" Lena walked into the conversation.

"I wouldn't say amazing." Chris blushed from the compliment.

"No, we're out standing!" The little hummingbird cheerfully clapped her hands in excitement, "Not anyone can say they have a winning streak! If things go well for us this year, it'll be our fifth win. The most any single team has ever won in a row!"

"Easy Jo, we gotta remain humble remember," a much bigger white duck with black spots, placed his hands over her shoulders. The little hummingbird calmed down a bit before backing into the duck's embrace behind her. The black and white duck reached out for a handshake from the two ducks, "The names Jordan, captain of our team. This little lady is the co-captain, Jocabed, Jo for short."

"Hi!" Jo gave an excited wave.

"Don't forget about Katie." The white female duck hopped to their side. She grabbed Lenas hand without her even putting her hand out and violently shook it, "Team Aphroducky huh? Can't wait to compete against you guys. You know, Team Aphroducky hasn't won the Battle of the Gods in over 100 years?"

"What? Why?" Louie was taken back by the news. Lizzette was super talented and won many competitions outside of The Battle of the Gods. Surely the descendents of Aphroducky were powerful.

"I think it might have to do something with the fact that Aphroduckys powers aren't as powerful. Don't get me wrong, she's gorgeous and stunning but……. her powers aren't very useful for competitions so the team captain is usually the first to lose making the team lose."

"Making the team lose? As if the team doesn't have a leader hence they fall, right?" Louie cleared up causing a nod from Katie.

"Well that's going to change today!" Dewey slammed his arm against the table next to them. The microwave still firmly placed over his head, "Lizzette is a great team leader and super skilled with an even superer team behind her."

"You have….. a little……" Katie pointed at her head and looked at the microwaved headed duck in confusion.

"Again?" Webby whined from behind before pulling Dewey back.

"I wouldn't expect much from Lizzette. The girl's talented but this is her first Battle of the Gods so your team isn't expected to get far." A pale white duck with black highlights in her hair walked by them.

"Look who's talking," Rebey laughed as she tossed the towel into the sink, "Jordan was a first timer too and he won without a problem……. thanks to us of course. The most amazing team!"

"Yeah but I was trained by my brothers, who competed by the way, since I was a kid. So I knew what to do and expect as team leader. Lizzette is brand new, if I can give any advice to her it is to remain open to suggestions, communication, and stay flexible." Jordan explained.

"Talk, communicate, flex flex flex, nothing hard, Lizzette can handle it," Rebey was clearly drinking way too much of her grape juice. She leaned against the counter where Violet was sitting and looked at her. Rebeys eye's half open and drooping , "You're a cute one. Seeing you at tonight's party?"

"What?" Violet scooted away from the girl.

"Party, celebration party actually," The white duck with black highlights pulled Rebey aside and had her lean on her, "We have one after every Elimination Race to celebrate the teams that made it."

"Party!" Dewey's voice echoed in happiness from inside the microwave.

"Stop moving." Katie held the blue triplet against the table as Webby pulled onto the microwave.

###

"So every team has a captain and co-captain huh?" Violet was intrigued by the game's concept.

"Usually," Lizzette focused more on her streches than what Violet was trying to strategize. Violet looked down at the duck and noticed she was extremely nervous.

"Who's the co captain in this team?" She asked. Lizzette stood up straight, without even looking at the hummingbird. She let out a loud sigh before speaking.

"Co-captain is optional…… Abigor and I always wanted to be captain and co captain but….." Lizzette didn't need to say more, Violet understood.

"I see….. so about the other teams, how powerful are they?" Violet asked.

###

"Why Violet? Why did you ask?" Dewey cried out, tears nearly falling from fear.

"Don't you think that's enough teasing?" Jo looked at her partner, a small smile forming. Jordan didn't say a thing, with just a wave of his hand he summoned another root from the ground and slammed it against Dewey. Jordan smiled as he slid his hand to the side making the root slam Dewey against a tree and trap him.

"Maybe it is time to take out the big guns. You mind queeny?" Jordan happily looked over at her. Jo shook her head in excitement and clapped her hands. The ground began to shake, letting vines crawl out as if they were arms, letting out the same plant creation Louie fought. Only it appeared a whole lot bigger than the last time Louie faced it.

"Not this again." Lena lightly complained. The plant creature raised it's dirt first in the air and let it fall towards them. Lena formed a shield around her and Violet, blocking the hit. The force was so strong it nearly knocked the shadow girl off her feet.

"And Winnie said this is only her second biggest creation!" Violet tried to speak over the loud slamming sounds.

"Man, that's a strong shield." Jo calmly commented before jumping up in excitement. She cuffed her hands over mouth and shouted, "Harder! Hit it harder!"

The creature seemed to understand her. This time it raised both fists and slammed them down together. Lena and Violet screamed when the hit caused a large crack in the shield.

"No you don't!" A familiar voice cried out. While the plant creature had it's fists down, it felt a sudden weight on it's wrists. Once again, they had turned into gold.

"How did he get past-" Jordan looked around for the green triplet until one of his teammates came in.

"So sorry!" Katie jumped into the flower platform still in her water from, "He slipped past us by turning Sophie into gold."

"She's gold?" Jo gasped.

"Ninja is half gold as well. I only escaped because-"  Katie got interrupted.

"Thought you could run!" Louie jumped up and tried to tackle Katie. The girl let out a squeak of fear before letting herself sink into the ground in her water form. Louie fell onto his shoulder, wincing in pain, "Dang it! I hate it when she does that!"

"Planta!" Jo yelled out to her plant creation. In a split second, the plant creature stretched out one of it's vines to attack Louie. Thinking fast, Louie rolled away from the vine and the moment the vine hit the platform he grabbed it. In seconds the vine turned to gold, making the creature stuck again.

"Thought you get the best of me again?" Louie stood up with an expression filled with determination.

###

"Don't take it personally!" Louie and Lena felt a pair of arms wrap around behind their shoulders, "My team has a soft spot for you guys."

"Are you sure about that?" Webby winced when Dewey waddled his way to the couch from all the pain.

"Ice….. he has ice powers too? I thought Sophie was the only one with ice powers." Dewey flopped on the couch.

"I thought Jordan only had plant-like powers?" Lena commented. Katie nodded her head yes before releasing them from her grip.

"That's true but he is the descendent of Demeter. Meaning he has the same powers as her……" Katie looked down at Dewey with a cheery face, "That includes weather like winter. And from the looks of it, he seems to dislike you."

"It's because I ruined one, one date between him and the co captain." Dewey cried out, half in pain and half from fear.

"Ah, that explains it," Katie walked up to the fridge and grabbed some ice packs.

###

"I hate this!" Louie tried to keep his balance but the room kept on spinning and spinning. Throwing his whole team around as if they were inside a washer machine.

"Where's the target?!" Dewey tried to reach out for the violin but the room again shook and made the violin fall down the stairs.

"Violet!" Lena cried out for her sister, still trying to make her way across the room. Soon, a chair swiped past her, making her lose balance and slide away.

"I can't even tell where I am!" The team heard Violet's voice but couldn't find her.

"Why didn't any of us choose an agility power?" Huey kept running away from all the falling debri until the room turned to it's right. He leaned to the open doors beneath him and fell right in. He was now inside what looked like a basement.

"The target!" Violet was at the corner, pointing at the target that was nailed to the wall above them.

"How are we supposed to get that?" Huey was in a panic and couldn't think.

"I got this!" They heard Gosalyn cheer as if nothing was wrong. In a blink of an eye, a rubber ball slammed against the target making the room stop spinning. The ball bounced off the walls multiple times before returning to it's red haired owner.

"So happy I chose a strength related power!" Gosalyn laughed and fist bumped the air. 

###

"How have we made it this far? I don't know!" Louie cried out, "I just want the rooms to stop changing every second!"

"Nothing in the room beyond this wall either." Violet came back through the wall. She looked just as disappointed as the rest of her team.

"What if we wait for another team to come our way?" Boyd suggest, "They might know a way out of the labyrinth?"

"Last thing we're doing is teaming up with any other team," Lizzette said, "You saw what happened. Apollo's team nearly lost when they tried to team up with Zeus's team."

"True," Lena lightly hit the wall with the back of her head, "So what should we do?"

"I'll check the room below." Violet said before jumping through the floor below them.

"We can't keep relying on Violet to check every room. We have to come up with a strategy." Huey was tired of going in circles.

"Hueys right, we're just wasting time checking every room." Louie agreed.

"And who knows what Violet will find." Webby thought.

"What do you mean by that?" Dewey asked. As if in cue, the team heard Violet scream from the room below.

"Vi!" Lena panicked. She laid down and placed her ear against the floor, "What's happening?!"

###

"So you're telling me there's someone out there actually trying to hurt us?" Mimi was nervously pacing back and forth.

"Someone? There's more than one person," Huey concluded, "Every team had their captain or co captain hurt to the point where they couldn't continue the games. That takes more than one person."

"Ok but who would do that? You saw how messed up the Apollo team was. The captain can't even walk properly. He's too scared to continue the games!" Lizzette was just as scared as everyone.

"Which is probably what they want," Huey said, "Whoever is attacking the teams either has a grudge against them or is trying to win by default."

###

Super excited! And thank you to the authors that agreed to make cameos in my story. Mimi is @ilovebhna .

[swiss-mrs]

Let There Be War (2/?)

(Clyde Logan || Hunger Games: Catching Fire AU)

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: None (?)

You stood just off the stage with the other tributes, dressed to the capitals standards. Your tense shoulders evident the near sheer, secondskin-like, sleeves of the dress you wore. All the tributes lined up next to their respective counterparts from their districts. Everyone one in order from 1 to 12, you stood by yourself. Though a few rows behind you, you could feel Clyde’s gaze on your back. Ever since yesterday, he’d stolen glances at every chance he’d been provided with. You heard the que for you all to start filing on the stage, doing as such shortly after called. The crowd erupts into a variety of noises, cheers, gasps of awe, whistles, all of it. You looked into the audience, though blinded by the spotlight, and forced a small, fake smile to please the useless money carriers. Every contestant sat in their respective spots next to their partners, you alone on your own couch.

The interviews with each district’s representatives seemed to drone on, as they always do. Threes finished their time in the spotlight; it was finally your turn. Host Flickerman stood to his feet as he announced you with his booming voice and a smile on his face. You put the most convincing smile on as you could, it seeming to work as the crowd went wild. “Ooooh, Would you look at that beautiful smile on our lovely mermaid queen!?” The eccentric man bellowed rhetorically towards the audience as you made your way to him, getting a cheek touch and kiss noise on each side of your face once reaching your destination. “The stunning goddess of the sea! How nice to see you again!” He exclaimed. “Especially so well dressed as we love to see!” He motioned to your body before practically throwing your hand into the audience, his way of telling you to show off your figure for everyone’s prying eyes to pick apart. You do your best walk and near the end of the center stage.

The ever cheering mass of people cheered on louder, excited for your reveal. Your dress hugged every beautiful curve of your body in the most flattering way you’d ever seen it. The fabric was skin tight and allowed for your glowing skin tone to peek through the shiny, reflective fish scale detailing, your extremities blurred with seamlessly blended undergarments but left little to the imagination. The dress flared out in a soft flowy matter just at the bend of your knees. As you moved, the side detailing from the hips down of the dress flowed like a blanket octopus and seemed to defy gravity as it gave the illusion of floating underwater. Getting to the que, you lifted your arms outwards from your body slightly, rippling them like a wave running from your shoulders through your wrists and leaving your fingers. The slight separation exposed the gill like webbing detail connecting your forearms to your breasts and rib cage. Each movement you had, breath of your expanded ribs, ignited a pulsing glow that ran through lines that outlined the curves of your figure in beautiful designs. It made you look like the most hypnotizing, fantasy sea creature, or rather the utter representation of the ocean’s beauty.

You heard gasps and sighs of wonder harmoniously mingle together, both from the crowd and some from those on stage. It made you grow a little shy but it only brought the host to speak up again, “The ocean is blessed with a humble goddess. The ocean blesses us with its generosity, sharing you with us here today.” He sighed out dramatically, his reemerging voice bringing you your que to come back to his couch to begin your interview, interrogation. “Alright, my beauty. How are you doing today?”

“I am…” You sigh and think of an answer. “The best I have been in a long while.” you fake confidently, faux pride flooding your face. This raises the brows of the colorful man sitting across from you.

“Oh?” He pushes. You nod.

“Being here, representing my district with such honor, being able to go forward with much more confidence than the last time I was on this stage, it all swells my heart with pride and merit.” You tilt your chin up, poised. This brings a delighted smile into the face of the almost unsettling, expressive man in front of you. He leans back into his seat and clasps his hands together in one loud clap in glee.

“I am so happy to hear that.” he rests his arms on the chair’s. “You are truly a goddess. Responsible, assured, and a true lead by example.” He abruptly leans back forward, resting his elbows on his knees, completely changing his dexterity, serious and prying. “But how is it having to go at this without a team member? Does it make you feel disadvantaged? Worried? Hmm.”

“Actually,” you look from him to the crowd, “I think quite the opposite,” looking back to him. He furrows his brows and cocks his head to the side, curious as a cheshire cat, wordlessly edging you on. “I believe in this game, it essentially is everyone for themselves. Though we go in as a duo, in the end there can only be one.” you raise your brow with regal-like determination. “I have all the skills I need and am army enough within myself. Everyone here will have to betray their own in this game at some point. I will remain loyal to myself and to my people. Honoring them with my victory, as I have done before. My will and my confidence will not be broken. I am all I need in this fight and I will represent District Four well.” This brings Caesar to a laugh as one of a proud father.

“That is what we like to hear!” He cheers, the crowd following him. You turn your head to face the crowd, nodding your head as a small bow. “Spoken like the Royalty you are.” he muses.

The host converses with you a little longer about your personal life, though there isn’t much to discuss. “So you are telling me that there is No Mr. in the picture?” You shake your head, confirming it. “Oh my Games!” he shouts, flinging his arms up in disbelief. “You’re telling me not a single suitor swept you off your feet? You have to be pulling my leg. You must be! You are way too great of a catch, pardon my pun,” he interrupts himself to nudge the air, winking and give a guilty smirk and a raise of his left eyebrow, you forcefully giggling to appease him, “to be single after all this time!” You shrug, insisting the truth. “Unbelievable.” He addresses the camera, “Men of District Four,” shoving a pointed finger, “How dare you leave the most beautiful woman within your reach, single.” He shakes his head, disappointed, turning his attention back to you. “Well, my dear, it was lovely speaking with her majesty of District Four.” He giggles at himself, “All I can hope for you is success and true love.” he brings his hand up to the corner of his mouth, poorly hiding it from the rest of the contestants on the stage. “Hopefully it isn’t found during the games.” He mutters with a knowing look, nodding his head in the direction of where the tributes of Twelve sat behind Seven. “Like the other lovebirds we know.” he concludes, jokingly. “But I mean…” he leans in further to you, “the lumberjack definitely gots the looks.” he whispers, teasingly, giggling. None of his ‘secretive’ gestures actually serve a point as this is all televised and amplified, but that was all his point, unsettling playfulness to distract the viewers of the fact that a group of people are put in the same room only to kill each other the next day. A glamorized hunting sport. You look over to Clyde, almost unable to hide the longing in your shared gaze. The moment goes unnoticed by the host as he is turned to the crowd, raising from his seat in a grand gesture with mentions of an applause and your exit. You stand and give a smile and a curtsy before taking a seat back to your lonesome couch for two.

Fives go up for their turn, but by the time they make it to where you stood, you’ve already gone deaf to the world. You go off into a distant daze, staring down at the back of Three’s seat in front of you. Clyde’s gaze stayed with you the entirety of being seated, failing to catch your attention while in your state.

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

part twooooooooooo

next part is the start of the gameeeesssssssss

oooooooooooooooooo

hope you liked it even though it’s kind of fillery

here’s the art the dress was based off of (though i imagines it to be a bit less monochrome) in case my description was at all confusing

@clumsycopy​ @douglasdriver​

[histoireettralala]

Day of the Dupes

It all began on Sunday November 10, 1630 [...] Louis XIII [...] dedicated the beginning of the afternoon to wresting [from his brother] a public declaration of "friendship" for Richelieu. He then presided a restricted Council in Luxembourg, where it was decided to reject the peace of Regensburg and therefore to continue the war in Italy. To please the queen mother, Marshal de Marillac, who was there on the spot, was entrusted with the general command of the army. In vain! As soon as the Council was over, she took Richelieu aside and brutally informed him that she was withdrawing the management of her "house" from him, which involved the expulsion of the staff introduced by him - a palace revolution that would not go unnoticed! According to the English ambassadors, the scene took place in the presence of the king. Although it was a private contract that she was free to denounce as she pleased, he tried to reason with her. According to them, unable "to gain anything" from her, he dismissed Richelieu by ordering him to go the next morning to take from her his official leave and then join him in Versailles. Not a word had been said about his ministerial duties. But as soon as he had turned around, she re-entered the fray to demand, moreover, his dismissal. Louis XIII eluded and left. The private break between his mother and the cardinal annoyed him because it was going to cause a scandal at a time when France had to show a united front during negotiations on the affairs of Italy. He decided to get her to delay publication.

On Monday, November 11, he therefore went to her home, a little early, around half past ten in the morning. He found her at her vanity, more stubborn than ever. Far from yielding, she went further. If Richelieu attended the Council, she would leave it. She didn't want to see him anywhere anymore.

And this exclusion measure took effect the same day, on the occasion of his leave visit: he would not have come, the order was given to turn him away. Suddenly, in a dramatic turn of events, at just eleven o'clock, a door opened.

The cardinal emerged: "Your Majesties are talking about me, it appears." Amazed, she hesitated for a moment: "No ... Yes it is indeed of him that she spoke, as of the most ungrateful and the most malicious of men." How was this intrusion possible? Richelieu knew the castle inside out. Pushed back by the ushers, he borrowed on the ground floor one of these service stairs whose pillars and walls were riddled and emerged in the "little chapel", in other words the private oratory included in the apartments of the queen. The interior door which commanded access had no doubt escaped the instructions given by Marie, unless a compliant maid had reopened it.

Wondering about the route followed is good, but we sometimes forget to underline the extraordinary audacity that this intrusion shows. Forcibly entering the Queen's private apartment was indeed an extremely serious offense that only the King's previous invitation could excuse. It remained to be seen how he would endure the confrontation. The scene which followed had no witnesses - which did not prevent tongues from running and imaginations from embroidering. Diplomats and memorialists agree that it was very violent and that, under the torrent of insults vomited by Marie, Richelieu broke down. In tears he stooped, it is said, to beg her forgiveness on his knees. She sneered: this master actor knew how to cry on command.

According to the Florentine resident, he begged the dismayed king "to allow him to retire, since his person was odious to the queen mother." To which the latter replied "that he still wanted to keep him in his service", and advised him to "go to Pontoise for a few days while he settled things." All the unfortunate had to do was kiss the hem of his ex-protector's dress and get out. At the bottom of the main staircase, he waited, among the curious who had heard of the scandal. Louis XIII passed, his face closed, without a gesture, without a glance.

It was soon known that he would be leaving early in the afternoon for his Versailles hunting lodge. For the audience, there was no doubt that the cardinal's disgrace was complete. His niece, Madame de Combalet, the queen mother's lady-in-waiting, was already packing their bags. Marie de Médicis drew up her plans and proclaimed, radiant, that he was going to leave the court and would have as successor the Keeper of the Seals, Marillac.

Richelieu, devastated, had locked himself in the Petit-Luxembourg. At his side, one of his sure friends, the Cardinal de La Valette. What to do? To prevent an arrest, he considered taking refuge in the Place du Havre, of which he was governor - it was as good as putting the rope around his neck. It was better to obey the most recent instruction: a waiting time in Pontoise. But hadn't the king invited him to join him at Versailles the night before? No hesitation, said La Valette, it was necessary to go to Versailles. And right away, before the king was subjected to other influences! "Whoever leaves the game loses it."

Immediately said, immediately done. The speed of his reaction worked wonders. He found Louis XIII alone, who welcomed him with open arms. He was as humble as could be, blameless. He offered his resignation, which was refused. He refrained from making the mistake, which would have been a deal-breaker, of complaining about the queen. He insisted, as he should, on the duties of a son to his mother, on her foreseeable resistance, and the associated dangers. Louis XIII declared himself ready to face them.

Then the events sped up. He summoned the ministers and secretaries of state available - with the exception of Michel de Marillac, invited to go to his house in Glatigny. In the middle of the night, he held an improvised Council where, after recalling the intrigues carried out against the cardinal by the Keeper of the Seals, it was decided to dismiss him. His replacement was immediately provided for, and instructions aimed at his (Michel de Marillac) brother, Louis, immediately left for Italy. At dawn, Brienne came to collect the Seals from the hands of the unfortunate man, who expected it, but had not foreseen the scale of the disaster. He was given time to finish his morning mass, then he was handed over to an exempt, who embarked him for an unspecified destination. For his part, the Marshal in Italy received a letter in a few hours conferring on him the supreme command of the army, then another ordering his arrest.

In Paris, however, no one suspected the incredible upheavals that had occurred during the night. On this morning of November 12, Marie de Médicis was still sleeping, harbouring golden dreams. When she woke up she saw Brienne appear, who informed her of the king's decision, ordering her to submit to it. She shouted loudly, wanted to run to Versailles. He replied that she would not be received there. Informed of the fall of the Marillacs, she had to admit that she had lost the game.

The joy that reigned in the Luxembourg among her friends the day before turned into a concert of lamentations. Most of it took place over two days, November 10 and 11, nights included. But it was only on the following day 12 that the vanquished saw themselves deceived in their hopes. Their illusions barely caressed and already lost, they never saw it coming. Bautru, the cardinal's reknowned supplier in witty remarks, found one that made a fortune: it was "Dupes Day".

Contrary to what is sometimes said, Richelieu didn't change the king's mind: Marie, by her anger, her intransigence, her blindness, forced him to a rupture he would have preferred to avoid. She did not budge: "It will be Richelieu or me, an unfaithful servant or your mother." The response to such an ultimatum seemed self-evident. But he changed the terms of the alternative: it was between the State and his mother that he would decide.

Simone Bertière - Louis XIII et Richelieu, la Malentente.

[nothingbutfangirlsmut]

The Girl Out of Time

Pairing: Bucky X Reader and Sam X Reader

Background: Willow Roffe was born and raised in Brooklyn. She lived her life as happily as she could with her two childhood best friends Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. When they both left her to join the military she tried to continue with life but that didn't get to happen for her for the simple fact that she meant something to James Buchanan Barnes.

Rating: Story will be overall MATURE but not every chapter. There will be strong language, talk of both mental and physical abuse, some good ole angst, and smut. There will be a warning at the beginning of the chapter when it includes smut.

Chapter 17

A few weeks after everything had happened with Shield, Hydra, and Bucky I found myself back at Gracie's. She had excitedly let me in. Turns out her children and grandchildren were there. She had introduced me to everyone then sent the kids upstairs to play while Gracie, Greg, Lucas, Anna, and I sat together in the living room.

"What have you been up to since returning?" Anna asked me.

"A lot of things. I use to work for Shield with my friend Steve but then I helped him take that down. Now I've been helping him search for a friend we thought was dead." I told them.

"James?" Gracie asked.

"Yea, turns out he's still alive. It's been an insane past few months." I told her.

"Sounds like it." Greg chuckled.

After the kids and grandkids left I sat alone on the couch with Grace.

"I've been seeing someone." I told her softly.

"Really?" She asked excitedly.

"Yea, his name is Sam. He's been in the middle of all this with me. It's rough sometimes though because I know we are eventually going to find James. What happens if I remember him and all those old feelings everyone says I had come back? I really do like Sam and I don't want to loose him or hurt him." I confided.

Grace chuckled softly then turn in her seat to face me. She grabbed my hand holding it gently between both of her's.

"Does Sam know about James?" She asked.

I nodded.

"Is he aware of your memory loss and your history with James?" She asked.

I nodded again.

"He still chooses to he with you even though he knows all this. I'm sure he knows there's a possibility of loosing you to James. The thing is, even if you won't be together forever, the time you have with Sam now is precious and full of memories you will cherish forever. I can't tell you what to decide when the time comes. All I can say is follow your heart. The right choice is not always the easiet." She spoke softly.

I just stared at her for a minute.

"How did you get to be the wise one?" I asked her quietly.

Grace chuckled then patted my leg.

"It comes with years and years of mistakes." She smiled at me.

"I hate that I didn't get to experience life with you. To be there for you when you needed me." I told her feeling the sudden need to apologize.

"Things were hard after you disappeared. Mom was an absolute mess and dad seemed to get even worse than he was before. I hadn't realized how much you had protected me and Amy from him. Things were rough but Amy and I kept pushing on because we knew that's what you would have done." Grace's voice was shaky.

I hugged her feeling even more sorry that I had been taken away from her and Amelia. I never wanted them to suffer at our father's hand. That's why I always took the beatings. I wanted them to be free and happy. I could handle the pain plus I had Steve to get me threw. I had James too but I couldn't remeber what impact he had made on me.

A few months later I woke up in bed cuddled next to Sam. I had ended up staying with him in his apartment in DC. He was already awake typing away on his phone. I wrapped my arm around his torso then moved closer to him. He chuckled then started running his fingers threw my hair.

"Steve sent me another lead for us to follow. Said he and the others are going after another Hydra base." Sam said quietly.

I groaned then rolled over on my back. Ever since we found out Bucky was still alive we've been chasing down leads. It's been months with no result. Each time the trail ends cold.

"Where to this time?" I asked him as I sat up.

"Looks like Mexico" Sam said.

I got out of bed wrapping my arms around myself from the sudden cold that hit my naked body. Sam whistled at me as he usually did. I hurried to the dresser and closet to get my clothes. Sam was quick to do the same. When we were both dressed we each packed a bag that would last us a few days.

"Let's grab some breakfast before we head out." Sam said as he walked out of the bedroom.

I pulled on the dark brown leather jacket that Steve had given me then followed Sam down the hall. When I got to the kitchen I gave Sam a quick kiss then started to pull out everything we needed. Sam did most of the cooking as usual while I helped here and there.

"How are we getting there?" I asked Sam as we ate.

"Flying" he said simply.

It took us a few days to come to the conclusion that this lead was just like the others. It's possible Bucky was there at one point but he was long gone by the time we got there. Once we were back in the states Steve called to invite us to New York for a party.

I showed Sam where the Avengers tower was in the city then we made our way all the way to the top. By the time we got there the party was in full swing.

"Sam! Willow!" Someone shouted from a small group.

Steve appeared out of the people then walked over to us quickly. He hugged me tightly to him.

"How'd it go?" He asked us.

"Cold" I told him.

He nodded with a look of disappointment clear on his face.

"I want to introduce you to some people." Steve said pulling me by my hand.

Sam followed behind us threw the crowd. Steve stopped in front of a tall, extremely muscular man with long blonde hair.

"Will this is Thor. Thor this is Willow the girl I told you about." Steve said with a smile.

Thor smiled then extended his large hand out to me. I made it a point to shake his hand using my super soldier strength. He laughed then shook his hand.

"She is mighty" his voice boomed in a foreign accent I didn't recognize.

"He's the God of Thunder and king of Asgard." Steve said to me.

"God?" I questioned in surprise.

"You've heard of the Norse god Thor right?" Steve asked clearly amused.

"Well yea" I answered.

Steve pointed to Thor. I looked up to the man who wasn't a man at all. He was a mythical god.

"You mean to tell me you're casually friends with a god?" I asked Steve.

"He's apart of the Avengers." Steve shrugged.

I just looked at him like he was crazy. He had to be joking. Steve laughed as he pulled me behind him again. This time we stopped at the bar where Tony, Hill, and another man were standing.

"Willow, nice to see you again." Tony said raising his glass to me.

"You too Stark" I smiled at him.

"This is Rhodey. He's an old friend of Stark's. He's also known as the War Machine which is one of Tony's suits." Steve explained.

"Pleasure" I said as I shook his hand.

He pulled his hand away then slowly stretched his fingers.

"Quite a grip you got there." He said in surprise.

Hill, Stark, Steve, and Sam all laughed. Apparently he hadn't been told about me yet.

"Sorry about that sometimes I forget no one other than Steve can handle my normal hand shakes." I chuckled.

"Why's that?" Rhodey asked curiously.

"She's a super soldier like Capsicle." Tony said.

"Capsicle?" I questioned him with a brow raised.

Steve sighed and shook his head while Tony laughed. Steve continued to pull me around the room to introduce me to a few people he had met. Eventually the three of us decided to go off on our own.

Steve started quietly explaining what had happened at the Hydra base. Turns out it wasn't very stealthy. They had two "enhanced" as Steve called them that really did a number on them. In the end they did end up with the septor.

"Sounds like a hell of a fight. Sorry I missed it." Sam said as we started up a set of stairs.

"If I had known it would be a fire fight I absolutely would have called you two." Steve chuckled.

"No, no, I'm not actually sorry. I'm just trying to sound tough. I'm very happy chasing cold leads with Willow on our missing person case. Avenging is your world. Your world is crazy." Sam explained as we came to a stop on a balcony overlooking the room.

"I'm kinda upset I missed it." I shrugged.

"Of course you are." Sam chuckled.

"Be it ever so humble." Steve laughed.

"You find a place in Brooklyn yet?" Sam asked Steve.

Steve sighed.

"I don't think I can afford a place in Brooklyn." He said softly.

"Well, home is home, ya know?" Sam said.

I can imagine all the reasons Steve would want a place in Brooklyn. Sam was right. Home is home. I would give anything to be able to go home. There were even days I wished I could go back to 1946. Then I had the days I was so happy to be where I was. It was a rough rollercoaster ride. Each day was different but I pushed threw and made the best of it.

"Come on we should join the others." Steve said moving to go back downstairs.

Steve left Sam and I alone to go talk to Bruce. Sam and I found a seat on a couch. Hill, Tony, Rhodey, and Clint were already sitting in the same area as us. Nat was quick to join us. The party dwindled quickly until it was only the avengers and their close personal friends.

---

Masterlist

[downinmybeastheart]

Candle Cove Headcanons: Episodes, Disturbing Moments, and Other Details

Some more about the show itself!

Plot and Setting

Due to a lack of budget and the fact the audience is young kids, there isn’t much of a complex background to this show. Still, there’s a good deal of detail.

Candle Cove itself refers to, well, a cove, but also the neighboring coastal town. The cove gets its name from a myth about its past.

Horrific beasts once plagued the waters, and at night they would crawl up onto the beach and wreak havoc on land. At this point there wasn’t much of a town yet, more of a humble little settlement, so the creatures caused a good deal of damage. One night, a girl was awoken by a strange noise in her house, and when she went to find the source, it turned out one of the smaller creatures had gotten into her house! However, the candle she held scared it off. She chased it out, and in the morning she told others what had happened.

The people were skeptical, but they needed the monsters to go away, so that night everyone lit candles. They put them in the windowsills, right on their doorsteps, some even stuck theirs in the sand of the beach. Sure enough, the monsters did not come.

While it is treated more like a fairy tale now, the town still has a tradition of lighting candles during certain holidays and tough times. The cove itself also has a few big candles that burn during the night, to act as a lighthouse of sorts and to ward of the “monsters”, whether real or not.

As for the plot: the first episode has Janice arrive in Candle Cove. From here, she meets Percy, the Laughingstock, and Horace (Skin-Taker is introduced after a few episodes). From there on out, the episodes usually have a very similar format: Percy and Janice are looking for treasure/exploring/helping out/etc, a one-shot character for that episode asks for help or otherwise interferes with something, Horace gets involved, and Janice and Percy save the day after some antics. Overall that’s the plot, but the episodes are fairly good at mixing up the concept and keeping it interesting.

The show’s plot also seems linear, with previous characters showing up and changes remaining permanent like half the time.

Some Notable Episodes

(Names are TBA, suggestions welcome!)

Janice and Percy meet a mermaid with a beautiful singing voice. Horace also finds out about her and tries to kidnap her. Not only must the two heroes save her, but they must find a keepsake she lost.

While out exploring, Percy is pricked by an incredibly poisonous’s plants thorn. He falls ill, and Janice finds out there is only one person who can help them now... the Skin-Taker. This episode takes place mid-series.

The Laughingstock is injured during a storm, and the group find themselves stranded on a tropical island. Here, the meet a pirate who was missing for years. Now, he has dubbed himself the Banana King, and rules over a kingdom of small banana-loving humanoids. Percy and Janice get him to help, and antics ensue. This is an early episode, and the Banana King shows up a few other times.

Another later episode involves a volcano on the Banana King’s island about to erupt, and a sacrifice must be made!! Human? No, bananas! A race to save the island begins as Janice, Percy, the Banana King, and the civilians pull a cart full of bananas to the top of the volcano. Things go awry when the Skin-Taker and Horace show up with plans to disrupt the procedure.

Janice gets a new pet!... a weak baby bird(?) she found washed ashore. Percy thinks of what to do while Janice tries bonding with her new “friend”.

Janice sneaks into the Skin-Taker’s base to find something, and learns more about her adversary along the way.

Poppy, a semi-famous pirate, visits Candle Cove! He brags to Janice and the townsfolk about all his adventures, all while teasing Percy for his wimpiness. He even claims to have defeated the Skin-Taker, even being the reason why he’s only bones! However, this and many of his other tales are lies, and when word gets around to Skin-Taker, well... things go south.

Disturbing episodes and moments

Overall, the show feels rather...off. Whether it’s intentional or due to the poor budget, the show has a lonely and foreboding atmosphere. The show’s sets and soundtrack were minimalistic and empty. The cheap puppets and props didn’t help, especially because some like Pirate Percy and the Skin-Taker definitely fall into the uncanny valley. Many plot lines were also morbid.

While some episodes were fine besides the aforementioned weirdness, the others are all disturbing. Some have dark plots, others have frightening imagery, and some are just surreal and baffling. Some are also rather sad.

To be more specific

In one of the above episodes, where Janice takes in a somewhat mangled baby bird, the puppet for said bird is rather creepy. It’s rubbery with fades colors, and made with a bit too much effort. The gimmick for that episode was, Janice would do something with the bird, and whenever she introduced it to someone or talked to it, it would cut to a shot zoomed in on the bird lying motionless, all music suddenly silent. Then, she would go about like it answered her or whatever. Perhaps it was meant to be funny, but it’s rather jarring and the bird is hard to look at.

Also, the episode in which Percy is poisoned is distressing because of Janice’s horrified and incredibly genuine reaction to her friend’s condition. Near the end, when it seems Percy has died, she is sobbing very hard, and continues to cry when he is saved, hugging the pirate tightly. This is upsetting to both kids and people who wouldn’t expect such an extreme reaction. Even the Skin-Taker of all people becomes serious and solemn, as if his actor/puppeteer was at a loss for words himself.

The Skin-Taker and the episodes with him are all rather frightening. He is very clearly dangerous and malevolent, and has caused tragedy and peril onscreen. He’s even killed some characters, and can be very cruel to both Horace and the protagonists.

For an occasional gag, many of the characters will react wildly to a bad or shocking thing, with the camera zooming in on them as they shout and gesture in a very exaggerated way. This is probably supposed to be comical, but it’s just awkward and out of place. After Skin-Taker’s infamous “to grind your skin” line, the camera cuts to Janice’s reaction, a rather silly wide eyed scream as she runs to hide behind Percy in an obviously acted out manner. Once again, not all that disturbing but it can be seen as uncomfortable.

Janice’s actress sometimes appears uncomfortable or even upset for a moment, even when it’s not prompted. Some of her reactions to the perilous situations are acted out while other times she is genuinely panicked. Probably expected from a low budget show with a child actress, but jarring nonetheless. One would think they’d have another take, unless the budget or time was really that nonexistent.

Throughout the series, especially in the later episodes, Horace’s change in personality is certainly one of the more morbid aspects of the series. Initially introduced as a fairly intimidating pirate, the Skin-Taker’s introduction makes Horace out to be not that bad in comparison. While already somewhat comically before, from there on he’s seen as a fairly comical villain. However, as the Skin-Taker appears more and more, Horace finds himself in more high stakes. His character becomes somewhat more evil even as he is treated less seriously than the Skin-Taker. Despite the writers trying to portray Horace in a humorous way, his reactions to failure become more angry every time, and he becomes more neurotic.

This reaches a turning point in the volcano episode, where his mustache is singed off. He freezes up and faints, only showing up right at the end of the episode, appearing to have given up for good. The last shot of the episode is a rather restless and defeated Horace storming off into the night. He does not show up for an episode or two, and the episodes he does appear in from there are at least one of the three final episodes.

The first episode after this doesn’t acknowledge what happened, but the episode after that has everyone notice he has been gone longer than usual. The episode has a very foreboding tone, and while the three final episodes cannot be found, a handful viewers remember something bad happened to Horace.

Reception, Reputation, and other notes

Candle Cove’s existence is very obscure, but those who’ve watched it or heard of it have a good deal of interest in it.

Its viewers agree the show was odd and creepy, but while some dislike it or were scared of it, others still manage to look back on it fondly.

Both old and new “fans” often try to find any information about the show, and go about uncovering what little of it was saved.

There are many theories about the show, especially the “Screaming” episode, and the three-part finale, as well as the nature of the show.

After one forum user’s mother recalled that the show was just static, different reasons as to why surfaced. Some are more plausible than others.

There’s a handful of people who haven’t seen the show, but have taken an interest in its concept and started their own little fandom.

As for the Screaming Episode, not much is known about it, but those who saw it and/or the final three episodes seem to agree that unless it is the true finale, it didn’t really fit into the plot anywhere. It just aired and was never brought up again. There are many theories, but nothing can be confirmed or debunked.