#in letters made of gold my love believe me when i say you are the darling of my heart. until my dying day.

[47-protons]

many thoughts head full yet so devastatingly empty (< my brain is going about a billion miles per hour and i cannot slow it down enough to put any of the thoughts into any type of coherent statement) ((it is flicking wildly back and forth between q/smp and usmp. like if you took a metronome and set it to like a billion BPM.))

I have never frantically edited a post faster to put a slash between four letters

[violettduchess]

A/N: I am so happy to be able to share my gift for the lovely @ikeromantic 💜 A deep dive into your blog told me you love AUs as much as I do so I was so happy to create one for our favorite Lelouchian.

Thank you to @ikemenlibrary and @sunnyikemen for hosting and for being supportive, accommodating and all-around superstars. 💜

Clavis x Emma

Magic AU, Soulmates AU, First Kiss, Enemies to Lovers

WC: ~2k

The sun is glowing a bright lemon-yellow as Emma closes the wooden door to her shop. It’s a beautiful door, made of dark walnut and decorated with silvery moons and stars. Across the top, the words “Belle Magie” are etched into the hard wood. At night, the lettering glows a soft gold. Humming to herself, she wraps her free hand around the ornate brass doorknob and a subtle, warm orange glow emanates from her fingertips. The moons and stars flash once and she hears a satisfying, soft whoosh of magic. The door to her shop is now locked via enchantment and no one except Emma will be able to enter and poke around at all the treasures that line her shelves and counters.

Smoothing down her ochre and black robes, she carefully makes her way across the cobblestone street to the shop that is literally across from hers. Her nose wrinkles at the sign that hangs above the wooden door: “Lelouchian Enchantments” written in swirling, silver lettering that she would say is barely legible. His note, written in the same dizzying writing, is clutched tightly in her hand as she pushes open the lavender-colored door with a celestial design nearly identical to her own. But that is where the similarity ends.

Whereas Emma’s shop is neat, organized by ingredients, everything with its own place and labeled in her own very careful handwriting, his is a gigantic explosion of almost anything one can imagine. Bottles filled with liquids of all colors and bottles with questionable things floating in them, dried herbs and seeds in pots and packets, a whole section of plants that bite anyone who comes near them, not to mention odd gemstones, vibrant powders, paints and feathers. She ducks underneath the silver vines that have wrapped themselves around the wooden ceiling beams, ignoring the way they contract and rustle their leaves at her, and approaches the counter where she finds Clavis himself, carefully sorting what looks like glittery kidney beans.

“I got your missive. I believe it broke in through my window in order to deliver itself.”

At the sound of her voice, he turns, golden eyes gleaming like copper in sunlight. He wipes his hands on the folds of his pale lavender robes, grinning slowly. She is forced to admit to herself for the millionth time that Clavis is hardly unpleasant to look at, per say. But oh, how he irks her, with his smooth words, flamboyant personality and flashy enchantments. 

“Oh dearie me, when I said it was urgent, I suppose that gave it permission to cause destruction. I apologize.”

She bats away several tiny golden motes that have taken an interest in her chestnut hair and Clavis lifts his hand, wiggling his fingers in invitation. The golden pinpricks of light float towards him, circling his wrist and then solidify into a gold bracelet.

Refusing to be distracted by his tricks, she unscrolls his letter and lays it on the counter.

“Well? Where is it?”

“So impatient,” he tuts as he kneels down, lifting an ornate silver box from under the counter. It’s about the size of his hand and she can’t help but watch the way he trails his fingertips over the decorative embellishments. He has such elegant hands.

One brow arches slowly as she crosses her arms, shoving that thought away and burying it in annoyance.. “Well…..are you going to open it….?”

He sighs theatrically. “Some people have no sense of showmanship.”

Her lips quirk into a small, involuntary grin. “I’m not one of the poor suckers who come in here for your tricks and potions, Lelouch. Now open the box.”

He tilts his head, clearly enjoying how much she is trying to hide her curiosity. His hand rests on the lid of the box but doesn’t move.

“Don’t you want to know the story of how I acquired such a treasure? Why, it’s a tale of mighty heroics the likes of-”

“No. No, I do not.”

He pretends to be offended but the light in his eyes gives away the truth. 

“But it involves a goblin merchant from Benitoite and a heartsick wizard from the Jade Forest and-”

“And a dragon and a sea witch and a bloody one-eyed pegasus. Clavis, just open the box!” 

He laughs and it is the needle deflating the balloon of irritation that had overtaken her. She’s never met anyone with a laugh quite like his. It’s almost musical, but in the way of the inviting, simple melody of a children’s song. Something that stays with her, imprinting itself on her mind.

“Such an impatient pumpkin.”

“Don’t call me pumpkin.” The response is automatic, a reflex built over the long while she has known him. The first time Clavis had seen her do magic and seen the yellow-orange glow her magic emanates, he had bestowed her with that aggravating nickname.

Nimble fingers curl over the lid of the box and then he lifts it, revealing a round, milky-white stone nestled into a bed of black velvet. It reminds her immediately of the moon against a starless night sky.

She tilts her head quizzically. “This is the all-power Amor Lapis?” She had imagined something called the “Love Stone” being far more ostentatious, something pink or red and wild with sparkles. Something that would take her breath away. This stone, while pretty in its own way, looks rather ordinary.

“Such a skeptic.” He lifts the stone from its box, holding it in the palm of his hand. “It will only glow when two soulmates have found each other.” He lifts his gaze to her, his smile playful. “Know any perfect couples?”

She rolls her eyes, reaching out to touch the stone. “There’s no such thing as a perfect-” Her fingers brush Clavis’s palm and suddenly, the middle of the white stone begins to brighten, a soft glow radiating out from the center.

She jerks her hand away even as he nearly drops it. Her heart roars to life, knocking wildly around inside her chest.

Neither of them move and then, at the same time they both do, Clavis uncharacteristically fumbling to put the stone back in its box and she taking several steps back, one hand curling into the velvet folds of her cloak.

“It’s broken! It’s clearly defective!” Why does her voice sound just a bit shrill to her ears?

He clears his throat. She’s rarely seen him so rattled.

“It….oh dear…..maybe it is.” He frowns, staring down at the stone, at the dull, cream color of it, no glow to be seen. Then he draws in a breath, one that even she can hear shaking and looks at her. There is something unfamiliar in the depths of his sunrise eyes.

“We should try that again.”

“Try what again, exactly?”

“Touching.”

She should be balking at the very suggestion. 

She should already be halfway out of his crazy shop. 

She shouldn’t be stepping closer again, her gaze jumping from the stone back to him and then back again. 

And she really really should not be saying-

“Alright. To-to prove its deficiency.”

The smooth, dark counter is a barrier between them, one that feels like armor, something that will protect her although what she needs protecting from is uncertain, some nebulous thing forming on the edges of her consciousness, some unknown dream rising from the shadows of slumber.

Clavis then holds out his hand, palm up, his gaze meeting hers. Her heartbeat drums wildly through her veins, a rhythm she has never known before. Slowly she lifts her hand and places it in his. His skin is cool and smooth, soft in a way she would not have expected. Emma can feel his magic just here, flowing through him. It feels shockingly calm, not the wild chaos she thought it might be but soothing, like the scent of lavender, the soft pastels of the sky at sundown. She can feel her own magic responding, warming as it flows through her.

Beneath their joined hands, the Amor Lapis begins glowing again, a soft white light like a tiny flame igniting inside the stone. Her heartbeat roaring in her ears, she slowly withdraws her hand from his and watches as the glow dims and then, when they are no longer touching, winks off like a tiny candle snuffed out by a breeze. When Emma has gathered enough courage, she raises her gaze from the milky-colored stone to Clavis and her heart trips over its own beat. His eyes rival the glow of the stone, something new burning in their golden depths. The light of revelation. The light of truth. The light of desire.

When he finally speaks, his voice sounds soft, breathy in a way that causes Emma to bite the inside of her lip at the sound.

“Dearie me,” he murmurs, his gaze locked with hers, bright with an intensity that feels almost physical. “If that happens when we touch hands, imagine what might happen if we actually kiss.”

The word lingers between them, shimmering in the air like desert heat over sand dunes. Emma unconsciously licks her lips and Clavis’s gaze drops there, fast as quicksilver. His own lips part slightly as he stares at the full curve of her lower lip, the sweet bow of the top. His own voice, his own words, echo like thunder between them. 

….if we actually…..

….kiss….

Emma hasn't moved, hasn’t said a word, her soft eyes wide as a deer’s startled by a sudden, unexpected sound. And then he realizes what he said, what he has actually suggested and shame floods him, a tsunami of embarrassment that washes away the glimmer of hope, the clouds of desire that had overtaken him. 

What the hell was he thinking, talking like that? As if someone like her, someone so intelligent and kind and talented, someone beautiful inside and out, would ever be soulmates with someone like him. Forget soulmates, she doesn’t even like him. 

He hangs in head, soft twilight locks falling across his forehead, his knuckles white as he grips the counter with trembling hands. Stupid. Idiot. Never good enough. Never smart enough. Never ever would he be enough for someone else.

“Nevermind, I lost myself for a moment.” The words are acrid on his tongue and he feels the hot wash of color staining his cheeks and neck. “Obviously, there’s no way–”

Her hands are suddenly gripping those warm cheeks, pulling him towards her, forcing him to lean over the counter, above the stone, where she presses her lips to his. The Amor Lapis explodes with radiance, a tiny supernova encased by smooth stone. Even with closed eyes, Emma notices the brightening of the light but right now, she does not care. Because right now, she is holding Clavis’s face in her hands, and she is falling falling falling into kissing him.

At first he freezes, shock turning his blood to ice water in his veins. But then he realizes her mouth is really there, pressed against his, and then the burst of light automatically closes his eyes and the shock begins to thaw.

Now all he feels is the warmth of her kiss, the tentative movement of her lips and he gasps, reaching across the counter to touch her. Cradling each other’s face, they kiss, at first slowly, drinking in the fragile newness of the sensation, the unveiling of the truth that has been growing in both their hearts, quietly. Steadily. And then novelty slowly turns to pleasure, to desire. He grows bolder, sliding a hand down to the nape of her neck, holding her there so he can part her lips and sink into the sweet taste of her. If this is a dream, may he never wake up.

Emma sighs against him, a sound that echoes the twinkling of diamond-bright stars in a black velvet sky. All this time….all this time she’s been falling in love and never even realized it.

Minutes pass. Or maybe hours. Neither of them can say when they finally pull away from one another. Breathless, light-headed, floating, they both glance down at the Amor Lapis. The stone is luminous, glowing like a tiny moon dropped from the heavens. 

And it will continue to give off its beautiful light, for the rest of their days.

Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @portrait-ninja @ikesimpleton @mastering-procrastinating @namine-somebodies-nobody @queen-dahlia @scorchieart @nightghoul381 @bubblexly

[the-furthest-city-light]

Hey hi hello I'd like to tell you about the wonderful gift my friend @swordsmans made for me.

I literally spent Thursday night just. Looking through it and turning it over in my hands. It's SO pretty and has SUCH A VISION in the making of it. Gyro's work is amazing. Just. Look.

The cover? The gold foil lettering? God. It looks so good on my bookshelf. And the DETAIL. They painted the edges of the pages guys, it looks SO COOL.

(excuse the low-quality photos, I have learned i am terrible at staging books, but just LOOK AT THESE PAGES.)

Okay and now for me waxing poetic about this.

When gyro first mentioned that they were going to start commissions for binding people's fics I was excited for them and also planned to commission them to bind one of my own fics. I knew I wanted to get a bound copy of their fic The Sea Makes Bones of Bodies as well, because if you haven't seen the typesets for that and the copies they've made you really should (here's my personal favorite of their copies). So I reached out and imagine my surprise when I discovered Gyro was already planning to do so.

Genuinely one of my favorite experiences in fandom is seeing people make art for their favorite fics and be inspired by other fanworks so when I tell you that I was BEYOND HONORED about this and SO PUMPED, like. I don't have words. I'm so grateful to have received such a lovely gift (it's on my bookshelf next to my copy of Rilke. Rilke.) and I keep running around with a huge smile on my face because I still can't believe anyone liked my silly Zolu fic enough to be inspired to actually bind it and now I have it in my hands.

I don't actually know anything about bookbinding except for what I've gleaned from Gyro but I did wonder how it would like. Feel in my hand compared to traditionally published books. I'm super careful with it because I love it so much but this thing is not going to fall apart at the drop of a hat. Also the book just feels nice in my hands. Weird thing to notice maybe but Gyro also picked a lovely font? I read the fic (IN BOOK FORM AHHHHHHH) and it was just as readable as it is on AO3 (though obviously this is way better/more special askdfjajjakkkiss).

If you are interested in fanbinding and the actual process Gyro used to make this, they made a post here. If you would like to request a fanbinding project their form is here. Gyro's Kofi is here as well. And if you'd like to follow gyro's fanbinding archive that would be here.

Okay! I think that's all I wanted to say. Gyro it was so lovely to have a front-row seat to the creation process and see how you made the book. Genuinely one of the best gifts I've ever received, thank you so much!!!

[lilyrizzy]

trick or treat!! please something angsty as possible

okay this is super angsty! Cw: major character death

"I used to believe that grief was a lot of sitting around and crying,” Max says, looking straight ahead rather than at Grace as he speaks, at, Daniel Joseph Ricciardo, engraved in gold lettering. “On the TV, and a few times when I saw my mum crying about my Grandpa, of course, it was always- It seemed soft, sort off.”

His thumb slots perfectly into the groove of the ‘D’, as he traces the straight line of it, then the curve. Besides him, Grace doesn't say anything, so he continues.

“I know now, of course, that it is not like that at all. Instead, it is like every day I am one step closer to exploding, until I am just a mess. Just- Chunks of Max.”

That gets Grace laughing, abrupt, like he’s startled her. Max laughs too. He supposes it is a funny image, being made into cat food by your own emotions, your inability to deal with them gracefully.

“Did my son teach not teach you anything about grief?” she says, her voice somehow bright and heavy at the same time. For a moment, Max thinks she means- But then- “All those elbows and fists shoved through doors and walls.”

She is talking about racing.

Max shakes his head.

“Losing races, that is not grief,” he says, stubbornly, because he might have thought that at eighteen but he knows better now. His fingertip has reached the first ‘e’ now. He’s taking his time.

“Grief is all about losing,” Grace tries, but Max can’t listen to her compare them, like they are the same. Like Max hasn’t had all his bargaining and begging fall on deaf ears. One more day. Every race win for one more day. One thousand losses for one more day.

“Losing a race is a disappointment,” he insists. Underneath his touch, the headstone is smooth the way Daniel's thighs would be right after he would wax, but cold the way he never was. Max drops his hand. “It is knowing that you did not try hard enough, that- That you have next weekend, next season to try again. To be better.”

There are no more ‘nexts’ for Max. Not ones that matter, not when the future he dreamed up, that used to feel so easy to reach for, is beneath his feet, buried where he stands.

“You can-“ Grace begins eventually, breaking the quiet- “Sweetheart, it’s been a year.”

Grace is silent for a moment, and Max can hear the birds, the noises they make as they fly and land and talk to each other. He touches Daniel- the headstone- again, to steady himself as he tilts his head back to look into the treeline. He can’t be sure, but he thinks the noisy one is a type that Daniel had showed him, the only time they were here together in Perth and he was still alive. A honeyeater.

Her hand reaches for his then and it startles him a little, her soft motherly hands touching him. Skin papery thin, one year older than the last time she touched him, the same way, in this very same spot. It’d surprised him just as much then; she’d never been Max’s biggest fan.

When he trusts himself to look at her face, she’s smiling as though she thinks he needs to hear this.

“Daniel would want you to be happy.”

Max screws his eyes shut, shakes his head so viciously as though to shake away the words he wants to say, to throw into her face, like a drawing on Luka’s etch-e-sketch.

What would you know about that? You did not see the way he loved me, the way we fought, the way we fucked. What would you know about what Daniel would want for me.

“I can’t,” he gets out, because it’s half the truth anyway. Even though the words choke him. “I can’t.”

When he opens his eyes again, he expects to be met with more insistence, more of her steadfast belief that as always, mother knows best.

“You know, when you told me you wanted to keep him-“ her other hand trails over the edge of the gravestone, gently, as though touching somebody she doesn’t want to wake up from sleeping- “I was so angry at you Max.”

Instead, she nods, but doesn't let go of his hand. Then-

Her eyes look sideways towards him, as though daring him a little to question her, to protest, but he stays silent. She laughs, nervously before continuing.

“You don’t- for this you do not need to be sorry,” Max tells her honestly, because it’s almost crueller now, to have her apology said too late, to the wrong person. Daniel died thinking his mother was scared of the sight of him, and now she is apologising for wanting to see him too much.

“I thought that you had him for all these years, the least you could do was let him come home to us. That was- I was cruel. It was wrong. I robbed you of a place, somewhere to go to be with him. I’m sorry.”

Max almost wants to laugh.

Besides, it didn't matter. Max never needed a grave. He’d asked because it had been what Daniel wanted, the only thing he’d asked for in the last days he was verbal. Delirious, but verbal.

Max didn’t need ashes or bones. Not when he’d had Daniel’s hair in their shower drain. His Vans lining their hallway, his oat milk in the fridge, curdled, until Victoria had visited and made him throw it out. When he still has him now, the echo of his laughter every time Max watches a funny film, sat on the sofa they picked out together. His footsteps beside Max on every cobbled street he walks down.

I want to be in the Monaco sunshine, Maxy. With you.

His voice, even if only from videos he rewatches or inside Max’s head.

“I didn’t need somewhere to go,” he tells her, squeezing her hand. “At home, he is everywhere. He is with me all the time.”

[ronearoundblindly]

Fire & Ice (a RoAR drabble)

Flufftober Day 12, Ransom Drysdale x rich!Reader (see series)

I blame @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory and @brandycranby for encouraging HughSaison. This is fairly loosely related to the prompt but there are a bunch of temperature references/illusions. 🤷🏻‍♀️Hey, I did my best. -> While I'm at it, does anyone want to own up (privately) to being the person who first asked about rich!Reader over a year ago??? I always wonder if that anon is still reading 🥹

Uhhh, angst with a fluffy ending... yeah, yeah, Ro loves writing arguments, we get it.

Warnings: If you've never read my Ransom before, beware. He curses like an angry sailor, inside and outside of his brain. Plus super suggestive language/mentions of sex. LOTS of dialogue. Zero editing. MINORS DNI. WC 1.8k

He cannot fucking believe it's come to this.

"Don't you fucking dare," he snips. “You cannot use a veto. You put me in charge.”

He watches you walk calmly, put away a dish calmly, sit at his couch calmly.

"I've made my decision, and that's final."

"Fuck you." Ran means it, but in his own way. "You said I could choose--"

"Not that," you say, so calmly, too fucking calmly for someone who managed to turn Ransom Drysdale into this, this thing that cares about something so petty for all the wrong--or just different--reasons.

He stretches to his full height and sucks on his tongue for a moment.

You continue to scroll through your phone.

He never thought he’d get married but he’s always loved a good party. Since the ring's not flashy, he wants you in the tiara. He hasn’t given you the ring yet either because…well, because it’s been less than a year and you practically live on the other side of the planet. Call him old-fashioned, but Ransom wants to be home for all the big things. He can plan a damn party though��and the look to match— whenever the hell he wants and for however long he wants.

At length in the quiet, he asks, "why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous, and I'm saying 'no.' Veto."

"You don't get vetoes for--" Ran smothers his frustration, but barely. "Does this have to do with...money? Because you know I’m not talking millions of dollars in real diamonds or something.” But, ya know, he’s expecting a couple hundred thou between colored and semi-precious stones, plus the setting in—would gold or platinum work best for your skin? Grandma Thrombey’s ring is made of yellow gold. Ran guesses he should match that.

The false calm never lifts from you.

Eyes icy and blank, you look at him while his plans keep running amuck. "No."

Two letters. One word. He fucking hates it.

"You'll look beautiful," he yells in annoyance.

The phone drops on the leather couch. "I'm not wearing a crown to be married in. It'll look pretentious, ostentatious. I won't do it and that's that."

"It's a tiara," Ran corrects, "and with a veil, it's near invisible. It’ll include the wedding colors with the stones."

"No."

His blood starts to boil. Don't say it, don't say it, he thinks fleetingly but fails.

"Says the woman with shit taste."

Slowly, calmly, coldly, you walk over to him, stretching to your full height, holding his gaze. You’re wearing one of his sweaters again and nothing else. That’s his favorite look, but only for him.

It’s winter outside, the heater turned up so that your naked skin stays comfortable. You stay comfortably exposed all the time, when he has his way. Comfort is king in Ran’s house. 

Despite being exposed though, he can see how you've made it so far in business—in life—even with shitty taste. Your poker face rivals champions, and you are stalwart in your dedication. There's a hard (and hardening) edge to your simple, sly grin.

You take a deep breath in,  a whiff of him, a sample for assessment.

"Poor--" you sigh "--boy."

His teeth grind together, jaw tight as a vice. How dare you.

Ran's petty, spiteful even when he tries so damn hard to keep it together, and the wound of disinheritance is still fresh enough he cannot abide that sting.

"Burn in hell."

You don’t take the bait and simply cock your head, waiting for his guilty meltdown. So far, he does this at least once a week, sometimes multiple times a day. It bothers you, you’ve told him, that he questions everything instantly, that he can’t trust you or your feelings or his surroundings, that he panics over the idea of ever having to get a job, but it’s also great ammunition against a man-child.

The grin never leaves your lips. You're in fine fighting form tonight. Ran shouldn't have tangoed.

"Go fuck some bimbo's ass."

Oh.

Oh, you bitch.

That's low.

Ransom's face contorts. "It was one time," he gripes, "and we weren't even dating."

Your palm lies flat against his chest. "We'd slept together several times, and you even volunteered for me by then so..."

Ran grabs your hips and brings you close, avoiding your gaze while hoping you keep looking at him, cooling him down, evening his hot temper.

"Of course," you add casually, "that wasn't the first time you did that, was it?"

This is where it gets tricky for him. Ran never had a real relationship before you--not even his 'bond' with his parents compares--but old habits die hard.

He shoves at your hips, spinning you two until your back hits the glass block window between the house and the bare woods outside.

His head ducks to mirror the angle of yours. "Doesn't have to be the last either."

"Hugh," you warn, as threatening as wind across his cheek.

He's gonna regret this. He knows he will, but curiosity gets the better of him.

"Tell me. Tell me why you don't want to wear something gorgeous and fancy for an occasion where you are meant to be gorgeous and fancy."

The turn in your expression is pronounced. He didn't expect you to be more alarmed by his caring than his come-ons.

"Bad form," you finally admit. "Some rich bitch thinks she's a princess. Looks really bad."

"You are rich. You are a--"

"Careful..."

"--I'm saying 'princess.' Calm down," he says to the perfectly, eerily calm woman in his arms. "Would you just fucking let me compliment you?"

Ran fiddles with some hair around your ear, noting proudly how your eyes droop shut slightly at the smallest touch from him. He likes that you respond to him, his distance, his fury, his doubt, and his passion. You make feeling okay. You are his safe space since you've seen him at his lowest.

You see him.

There's very few things in life that make more sense to Ransom than his wife will be the one who sees him and he lets see him. Everyone else and everything else can piss off.

God, he fucking hates that he loves you so much. Why won’t you just wear the fucking crown? You’ve earned it; you’re the one who conquered his demons, not Ran.

He could buy it anyway, have your veil sown straight on it, not give you the chance to argue, or he could take you out to shop, put one in your hands, knock it onto the floor, and claim ‘you break it, you bought it.’ Problem solved, but he’s a petty bitch.

He tucks the edge of his lip into his cheek.

He should be less of a petty bitch.

“What do you want?” Ran asks. “What’s it gonna take?”

He keeps his sharp eyes locked to yours, watching understanding shrink your once-dilating pupils

Change in demeanor. “Oh my god.”

Aaaand there’s the regret. “Don’t make a big deal—“

“HOLY SHIT.”

“It’s not—I’m just—“

“Hugh Fucking Drysdale?! Trying to compromise??? I’ve see it all now.”

“Stop,” he whines, dropping his head to your squirming chest.

“Wait—” you whip out of his arms and hustle back to the couch, retrieving your phone “—do it again.”

He’s too lost in staring up the sweater as you bend over to notice right away.

“Are you filming me?” Disgusting. Childish. Petty, just like him. Maybe he’s had more influence on you than he realized.

“Your face is priceless.”

“Give me that.” Ran doesn’t put much effort into reaching the phone. He would rather win for his cause. “Seriously, what do you want?”

The arm held up falls lax. He has a clear view of your home screen, so you weren’t taking a video. You just wanted to tease him. Fuck, you love to tease him.

Dramatically, your hand frames your chin in thought. “Well, I don’t want something that extravagant to go to waste, but it won’t go with every outfit…”

“No, not with colored stones,” Ran says absently. He guesses you want to get more use out of it. Gross.

“Okay, my compromise is whenever I wear it, you treat me like a princess, or perhaps, your queen.”

“Uh, sure,” he snorts. You already get treated better than any woman he’s ever known…by him, of course. He’s vaguely aware that some people do even more than the bare minimum, but those are other people. Baby steps.

“If that tiara is on my head, Hugh, you become a perfect and adoring gentleman.”

Ran wrinkles his nose. “What?”

“You heard me. That’s my compromise. Dress me that way and you have to treat me like royalty.”

“Like…” He rushes forward to sweep you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and thrusting his hips. “Princess Pussy?”

“Ran. Ew, no.”

“Queen Cunt?” Heh, he chuckles, King Comfort and Queen Cunt. No, don’t say that out loud.

You gag slightly. “Super not what I meant.”

“You’re already going to marry me, but you want me to worship you? No fucking way.” Ransom flat-out laughs.

“How did you get worship out of ‘treat me nicely?’” Your arms tighten around his neck, pulling your faces closer.

He exaggerates a groan. “I don’t know. That’s asking a lot.”

“Oh, right,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “Just keep on being shitty…even to your future wife. What could possibly go wrong?”

He huffs.

Ran is passionate about making you look good, not just because you are on his arm. Sure, he probably focuses on all the wrong things—all the selfish things,—but you easily think of the big picture and completely forget about yourself.

That’s already a balance. That’s already a big compromise.

And yet…

Ran’s looking at your face and admiring your playfulness when he could be ordering you to unzip his pants. He’s more excited to see you decked out pretty things than he is to say he dressed you. He’s concerned with how you refuse to spend money for you even though you’ve put no restrictions on him. That’s…that’s just a different Ransom Drysdale. That’s a man he wouldn’t recognize if he weren’t watching his reflection in your eyes.

Ran pecks a gentle kiss to your waiting lips.

“Okay, princess,” he coos, his arms snaking tighter over your back and his fingers plunging into your hair. He keeps you close, noses touching, hot breath mingling. “Shh, shhh.”

He hears the faintest whine escape you, and he just can’t help himself. He’s a petty bitch.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll fuck your ass.”

🙈🙇🏻‍♀️😝

sorry not sorry.

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @starkleila

[Main Masterlist; The Root of All Ransom Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[coffe-book-club]

i love you so 𓍢ִ໋🍂₊˚୨୧⋆｡

info: toxic tom kaulitz x sweet fem! reader

summary: not all that glitters is gold.

disclaimers: toxic relationship, bullying, mention of anal sex and blood, love bombing, handling, emotional dependence. remember... in this one-shot i'm absolutely not saying that tom kaulitz is a bad person, this is a figment of my imagination.

a month has passed. at first tom he seemed like the sweetest and most loving guy ever, he always wanted to carry my backpack, he always wanted to go to my favorite coffee shop, to get beagles with avocado and scrambled egg inside. always showed up at my door with a bouquet of beautiful flowers, to then prepare a dessert and then cuddle on the sofa watching gilmore girls, or simply spending the afternoon making love. write me love letters... in short he seemed like the perfect guy. but when we decided to let me get engaged again... he became the toxic and bad guy he always was again, as if he had transformed.

i wanted to give tom one more chance, because i still loved him. but he hasn't changed at all and will destroy everything that i build in this month. he made me believe that he was sweet and loving, while he was just manipulating and brainwashing me to have power over me again. my biggest mistake was to believe that he could really change.

he made me believe that he loved me, so that i would fall for him again. and this is the ultimate proof that he will never change. every time i give him a chance, he will break my heart once again.

i have always worked very hard at school, always taking a lot of notes during lessons and studying a lot at home and doing the homework assigned by the teachers. wanting to go to a good university, always getting the highest grades in the class, the professors and the dean always rewarded me in some way. but the only thing that has always mattered to me is making my parents proud and every time I show them my tests or go to parent and teacher interviews, they always come home with a twinkle in the eyes.

i work very hard in order to achieve my dream of studying at the best university in the country. i want to be able to make my parents proud too. and as my grades are among the highest of my class, my parents support me with everything. they want their daughter to be successful and also see how hard i work for it. i spend long hours, learning at home on my own, just to be successful because i know that it will make my parents proud. i want to achieve this dream of mine, at all costs, even if it means sacrificing much of my time and life.

after a long session of angry sex, where tom put me in every possible and imaginable position and with as many sex toys. now i'm lying on my stomach, with my legs still shaking. while tom is lying on his back, smoking a joint. while we are still naked, while with his free hand he continues to spank me. i observe his well-defined body. his beautiful face and his chest, his big cock, still perfectly hard and erect... “uhm... i feel so so good and satisfied. but i didn't even think that anal sex would hurt so much the first time”

“shut up! you are disgusting and no one cares about what you want or what you feel, fuck” i'm still lying on my stomach and tom is lying next to me. the bed is covered in my blood and sweat, and i can feel how much of an absolute failure i am. he looks at me with disgust and i remember the feelings i had only a few hours ago. i feel so ashamed of myself.

i feel a shooting pain in my chest, at the height of my poor heart. now too broken. numerous tears form on my eyes at his mean and cruel words.

i turn my face away, so i can watch the gray sky, from my window next to my bed. my sheets are slightly stained with blood and cum. afterwards i will have to wash them well by hand and then put them in the washing machine. “i'm so sorry”

“you should be sorry. you are the worst mistake of my life!” he still looks at me with disgust. he doesn't care that my heart is broken and that i feel so bad right now. he doesn't care that he completely destroyed me again, without any reason at all. he doesn't care about me or my feelings, he never has and never will. “you really thought i loved you and changed? you can only disappoint me” he says to me in a hateful way.

“but... but it's you who have returned to me, not i to you” my long hair falls on my white sheets with little blue flowers, while tears roll down my chubby cheeks slightly red from the long sex session. the sadness persists in my poor heart, now too broken and destroyed. from the person with whom i'm unfortunately still madly in love.

he chuckles in a cold way and shakes his head slightly. “tou always believed every word i said and believed in every lie that i told you. you always went back to me. it wasn't me who returned to you” he smiles at me, but his smile turns into a cold and hateful expression when he says the following words.

“i could never love you, you useless hoe” he just wanted to break me, to get me back to him, so he could destroy my self-esteem and confidence once again. i close my eyes, letting my salty tears roll down my cheeks, not saying a single word. i had given him my heart right away. i had given him all my love and sweetness, thinking that he could love me too. but i was wrong. i close my eyes and the tears continue to roll down my cheeks. i'm so sad right now and i feel so broken. he doesn't care at all what he's saying and how he's hurting me. “you are useless, you can't do a single thing! you are not good for anything at all”

the words hurt me deeply. and i think about how i always tried to make him happy, but it was never enough for him. i sniffle, then get out of bed and sit down with difficulty. my butt hurts really bad, but the pain in my heart almost makes me forget the pain of the long anal sex session. i bring my hands closer to my cheeks, to try to dry them. under her expectant gaze and his cold heart.

“you are so stupid! you have wasted everything i have said to you. and that little brain of yours will never be able to change. you are a stupid ho and will always be one” he says to me, his expression not showing a single emotion. i hear his cruel words, which only break my heart more. i still remember how he said he loved me and now i feel so stupid, because i believe his words again. i didn't learn a thing from the last months.

i look down, observing my sheet where in some places it is stained with blood and others with cum. saying nothing, remaining silent and heartbroken. all my attempts to make him happy and loved always went up in smoke. my treatments have never been of any use, as well as my love for him.

he smiles at me again and kisses my forehead, while my tears roll down my cheeks and my butt hurts so badly that i can't even stay still anymore. “it's always your fault. you are the reason for all the bad things that happen to you” he strokes my hair gently and still gives him that loving look. my biggest mistake was to give him another chance. “i only wanted the best for you, but you always ruined everything...” he says to me, with such a calm and loving tone in his voice. he kisses my forehead softly, stroking my hair. trying to manipulate me further, trying to make me believe that it's only my fault. “i'm... i'm so sorry”

i answer him with a trembling and extremely sad voice, continuing to look at my sheets, which until a few hours ago were clean and fragrant. i just want him to hold me in his arms, kissing my head, caressing me with love. telling me that everything is fine and that he apologizes for his mean words and for breaking my heart. but i know that will never happen and that i will always have to apologize.

“oh, my lovely sweetheart...” he strokes my hair again and then caresses my face gently, while he looks into my eyes. “i'm so sorry, that i said the things i just said to you. i shouldn't have. you are the sweetest, most caring and loving person i have ever met. i don't deserve someone like you...” he tries to manipulate me once again. and it works perfectly. “please forgive me, my sweet angel” i move closer to his warm body, resting my cheek on his shoulder. wrapping my arms around his waist, sobbing over and over again. knowing deep in my heart, everything he's telling me, he doesn't mean it.

now i'm back where i always end up when i'm with him. i'm broken and i cry and he comforts me. he gives me the love and affection i so desperately need right now, but which he will take away from me again within a few days or a few hours. “shhh, everything will be fine, y/n” he kisses my forehead and strokes my hair gently, while i cry in his arms.

small sobs leave my lips, as tears roll down my cheeks and lightly wet his shoulder. you hold him tighter to my body, seeking that warmth of love that i desperately need. in need of his love, which i will soon no longer receive, because it is a matter of moment. for those few minutes or hours, i can feel loved again. he gives me that affection and that warmth that i crave so much. i'm in each others arms again and nothing could make me happier right now. “how much i love you...” he whispers softly, while i hold onto him even tighter. i know that this feeling i have right now won't last long, but i don't care about that right now. all that matters right now is that i feel happy, loved and appreciated again. i miss him so much and this is the proof that i still love him.

i bring my lips close to his neck, kissing him softly and with love. “i love you so much, my little moon” i speak to him softly, sobbing from time to time, tears still streaming down my face, crying in his arms. “please stop crying, my baby. i don't like seeing you so sad. you don't deserve to be sad...” he looks at me with the sweetest expression imaginable. he strokes my hair again and kisses my cheek, while he tries to convince me that he loves you once again.

“i'm so sorry for my earlier mean comments...” he says to me, smiling in a loving way, while i still cry in his arms...

hii 💌 how are you? these days i'm more at work, than at home or with my friends. in my old profile 'i love you so' there was a mini-fic, so i think i'll publish the other parts here too ☺️ next week i will publish more headcanons, especially on georg listing and gustav schäfer, because they deserve a lot of love too. i apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors, but english is not my native language. xoxo flo.

[winter-soldier-101]

You are not her Part 2!

Word count:1250

“They want father to remarry already, they want to replace mother” (Y/N) tells Rhaenyra angrily.

“Why would they want him to remarry so soon?” (Y/N) asks Rhaenyra.

“They want him to have a male heir so father will have a new heir” Rhaenyra tells you.

“We need to talk to father about this” (Y/N) tells Rhaenyra as they walk to the small council room.

In the small council room.

“It occurred in the blackness of night my lords during the hour of the bar the thief eluded our pursuit” A dragon keeper tells everyone.

“How is it that a dragon’s egg was stolen out from beneath fifty dragon keepers?” King Viserys yells out.

“It was prince Daemon who was the culprit, your grace” The dragon keeper tells Viserys.

“Daemon,” Viserys whispers.

“The prince left a missive which I believe might explain” Otto tells Viserys.

The maester unravels the letter and begins reading out “It is the pleasure of Daemon Targaryen the prince of DragonStone and rightful heir to the Iron Throne to announce that he is to take a second wife in the tradition of Old Valyria she is to assume the title Lady Mysaria of DragonStone her grace is with child and is to have a dragon’s egg placed in the babe’s cradle in the custom of House Targaryen the prince has invited you to his wedding your grace it is in two days time” The maester says.

“Who is Lady Mysaria?” Lord Corlys asks.

“Daemons whore this is nothing less than sedition” Otto says.

“I strongly agree, sire” Lyonel Strong says.

“My brother's wish to provoke me to answer is to give him what he wants,” Viserys says.

“The realm is watching your grace”Lord Corlys says.

“What would you have me do? Send him to the wall? I could put his head on a spike?” Viserys asks.

“Daemon has seized DragonStone, has surrounded himself with an army of gold cloaks and has now stolen a dangerous weapon” Otto tells Viserys.

“What egg did Daemon take?” Rhaenyra asks.

“The egg was Dreamfyres princess the same that you and princess (Y/N) chose for prince Baelons cradle” the dragon keeper says.

You look at Rhaenyra and back at your father.

“Assemble a detachment Otto” Viserys says.

“I will go to DragonStone and drag Daemon back to face justice myself” Viserys says.

“Your Grace, my apologies your grace but I cannot allow it. It's too dangerous . Daemon is without limit let me go to DragonStone” Otto tells Viserys.

Rhaenyra pulls you to her room and gives you some riding clothes and you both get dressed and go to your dragons and ride to DragonStone and get back the egg.

DragonStone

“Welcome to DragonStone Otto” Daemon says, meeting Otto and his men.

“Your occupation of this island is at an end you're to relinquish the dragon’s egg, disband your army, banish your whore and leave DragonStone by order of his grace king Viserys” Otto tells Daemon.

“Where is the King? I don’t see him?” Daemon asks.

“His grace would not lower himself to entertain such a mummer's farce” Otto tells Daemon.

“Ser Crispin wasn’t it?” Daemon asks.

“Ser Criston Cole, my prince,” Ser Cole says.

“Yes my apologies I couldn’t recall” Daemon says.

“Perhaps my prince recalls when I knocked him off his horse,” Cole says, making Daemon chuckle.

“Very good,” Daemon says.

“This is a truly pathetic show Daemon, are you so desperate for the King's attention that you’ve resorted to skulking about like a common cutpurse?” Otto asks

“I’m simply keeping with the traditions of my house the same as my brother did for his heir” Daemon tells Otto.

“Those traditions are for the true born children of royalty not for bastards fathered on a common whore” Otto says.

“Lady Mysaria is to be my wife” Daemon tells Otto.

“This is an abomination with every breath you soil your name, your house and your brother's reign” Otto yells at him.

“Our love does not know titles and traditions”Daemon tells Otto.

“And what of you men of the city watch aiding the prince in his treason?” Otto asks.

“The king made me their commander. They are loyal to me, you've come for the egg here it is!” Daemon says to Otto.

“Are you mad? You’d never survive this” Otto says.

“We’ll happily neither would you” Daemon says.

“To choose violence here is to declare war against your King” Otto tells Daemon.

“Wonderful,”Daemon says.

“Even if it ends with the death of your unborn child and its mother?” Otto asks Daemon.

Swords are pulled and pointed at each other, everyone ready to strike. Caraxes moves around and roars out at the men.

“All of you sheathe the fucking steel” Otto says as everyone puts their swords away but two distinct raors make everyone look over and see who it is.

Syrax and Cannibal fly over and roar out. Rhaenyra flys over and lands and dismounts Syrax and walks over to Daemon as (Y/N) flies overhead making sure everyone is safe from the sky.

Rhaenyra talks to Daemon and he leaves and turns and throws the egg to Rhaenyra and she catches it and puts it in the close pot and leaves DragonStone.

(Y/N) and Rhaenyra were taken to their chambers and waited for guards to get them and take them to their father.

“Your Grace” you both say.

“You both disobeyed me, you both fled King's Landing without a word and you acted without the crowns. Leave you both are my only daughters you both could have been killed” Viserys yelled at you both.

“May we sit” Rhaenyra says as you both make your way to sit down.

“You both went to DragonStone” Viserys says.

“We retrieved the egg without bloodshed, a feat I’m not sure Ser Otto could’ve accomplished alone” (Y/N) says.

“Yes well I sometimes forget how alike you both are to your mother your mother’s absence is a wound that will never heal without her the Red Keep has lost a warmth that I dare say will never recover” Viserys says.

“It pleases me to hear you say this to know we are not alone in grief” Rhaenyra says holding Viserys hand and you hold his other hand.

Small council meeting was called and everyone walked in and waited to see what the King was going to say.

“Good morrow my lords, I have decided to take a new wife. I intend to marry Lady Alicent Hightower before spring end” Viserys says.

(Y/N) looks at Alicent then at Rhaenyra.

“This is an absurdity my house is Valrian the greatest power in the realm” Lord Corlys says.

“And I am your King” Viserys says.

Lord Corlys leaves the room and Rhaenyra looks at you and then lets go of your hand and leaves the room as well as your father calls out to her.

Back with (Y/N) and Daemon.

“So I was never good enough for my father and I was never good enough for you?” (Y/N) tells Daemon.

“You will hate me more when I tell you this”Daemon tells you.

“Viserys gave me you because I couldn’t marry Rhaenyra after the whore house so he gave me you he didn’t love you (Y/N) I did for sometime but now you mean nothing to me I���m going to marry Rhaenyra” Daemon tells you and leaves you in the room wanting to just disappear from the world.

Taglist: @splaterparty0-0 @siriusdumblittlepuppy @devils-blackrose @thefandomimagines @impartinghades @immyowndefender @melissarose234 @lazyotakujen @whitejuliana1204 @elizadj @thanyatargaryen @afro-hispwriter @aegon-andaemondtargaryenslut18 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @hc-geralt-23 @snh96 @animelover18 @danielle-leah1997 @angeliod @lightdragonrayne @talkdiffently6 @yeah-just-a-fan @1950schick @billiesbeans @daemyratwst @impartinghades @nats-whore @dc-marvel-girl96

[zillasvilla]

Fatal Attraction: Independent (preview)

Pairings; Joseph Anoa’i x Original Character

A play on how Joseph went from football to Wrestling

A/N: As you can tell, Roman, is the top playboy I’m currently writing for. I tried writing it with the other guys I write for and well here we are. ( The bow was bigger, but the limit on tumblr made me change it 🙄😒

song inspiration: Independent Women x Destiny’s Child ; Fancy x Drake

Warnings: None

Cause I depend on me if I want it’

"What is love?"

She tapped her pencil against her notebook; not really caring to pay attention to today's lecture and the asinine questions the professor was spewing out to the overzealous and insanely naive group of students that seemed to be hooked on every single word coming from the lips of this less than qualified teacher. 

She sighs and turns her attention to the leather-bound book before her. The gold stitched lettering felt rough beneath her fingers. She flips open the cover, her gaze trailing to cursive hand-written entry. The lavender colored ink faded, but still legible.

November 20, 1992:  Daddy may be a very successful man, and he may have all the money in the world to spoil you with. (god help him, cause he loves spoiling you.) It’s still his money and it can stop. You want something, you work for it. There’s pride in being able to say you got it on your own. ~ Mama loves you

She closes the book and sighs heavily, as the professor ended the lecture for the day. She knew that already. Her dad made sure she earned the allowances she got growing up and she thanked him. It only added to her drive of wanting to be an entrepreneur. She wanted it all and she was going to get it. She starts to gather her things, feeling a shadow stand over her.

"Ms. Gaspard.”

She looks up to see her professor standing before her.; packing her things away the bright pink custom Louis Vuitton bag, earning envy looks from the girls in her English literature class.

"You were distracted during my class. Care to share what's on your mind?"

"Not really, just wasn't fond of today's lecture?" Today’s lesson was on the story of Romeo and Juliet and dissecting the meaning behind the main characters' forbidden love story. It went off on a tangent; leading the professor to ask the class what they believed to be love.

"Okay, that is understandable. Let me ask you this. What is Love?" Ms. Gaspard was usually an active participant in his lectures, and he was concerned when she was quiet. 

"Love is artificial. A mindless emotion that people use to get what they want from a person until it no longer benefits them.” She knew all too well what that was like. 

" Love is different for all people."

She rolls her eyes, that may have been true but for her; Love only left her alone.

Independent with the demeanor of an R&B Singer, naked ring finger. M3 Bimmer

The panting breaths as he ran around the tracks with some of his teammates tired him more than usual. Spring training was no joke, and he constantly felt his body getting weaker. He sighs, stopping by one of the benches, reaching down to grab his water. 

His Adam’s apple, bobbing with every long gulp of the room temperature drink. The constant catcalling, turns his attention to some of his teammates. She had walked by once again, going to the sleek black Maserati. She was always dressed to impress, but today she sported a simple pastel green babydoll dress, white sandals, that showed off the freshly pedicured feet. He couldn’t make out the color on her toes, but he knew they were painted.

The sun kissed her rich brown skin, highlighting her natural sandy brown hair. She was out of his league and he knew it. He could look right?” He doesn’t look away until she’s in the car and pulling out.

Taking another long sip of water, he notice his coaches standing in front of him. 

He knew whatever it was they had to tell him, wasn't good news.

Akhara’s Patrons: If you would like to be added, please comment on the master list. I will try to frequently update it as much as I can.

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[missvelvetsstuff]

Just a Number

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader meets Bucky at a party and the attraction is more than either one of them wants to resist. Of course nothing is ever that simple.

Notes: Since most stories are younger readers I felt like having a more mature reader could be a nice change of pace. Especially since I'm creeping up on senior discounts and want to believe Bucky could fall in love with someone like me.

I try to keep my readers description vague but, as always, she's female, tall and this one is obviously 40+

Chapter 10

Warnings: swearing, vague sex talk, angst

"John's dead"

Olivia's words rang in her head and her imagination immediately concluded that something had happened to James since they were on the same mission and his phone call had been abruptly disconnected.

Dawn was finally able to get Olivia calmed down and Y/N took the letter she had been waving around. It wasn't as bad as Olivia sobbed but it wasn't good. John was MIA, the letter didn't mention Bucky or Sam.

The two of them sat on the couch while Y/N poured drinks for them. She downed hers and refilled the glass before setting the bottle on the table, giving them their drinks and sitting down.

"So this doesn't say he's dead, he's just MIA. Which isn't great but there's still hope." Y/N offered, trying to sound positive even though her chest was tight and her stomach tied in knots.

Olivia was calming down and looked over at her "That's what Val said but I don't know if I can trust her."

Dawn looked at her questioningly "Val? Who's Val?"

Olivia shrugged "She approached John after his court martial. Said she would have work for him but didn't really clarify. She works for some govt agency, I'm not sure which and has a crazy long name that I can't remember." Olivia sighed "She told me to be strong and not to lose hope but I...." She held back a sob. "I don't know how to live without him. How do you do it, Y/N? I mean without Mike?"

Y/N shrugged "You just keep going, sometimes you have to lie to yourself and pretend you're ok. I had Dawn and if this does turn out to be the worst, you have us. You can stay in Jessie's old room tonite and as long as you need."

Olivia nodded "Thank you. I would like to stay, at least for tonite."

Dawn smiled softly at her "We're your sisters and will do whatever we can. For now, lets just take things one day at a time."

One day turned into a week, then two until over a month had passed with no news at all.

Jessie visited a few times a week to keep Olivia company while Y/N and Dawn worked. Her dog, Luna, was very comforting and made Olivia wish for a pet of her own but John hated animals and forbade it.

Michael came by a couple of times during the day but was careful to be gone before his mother returned, his anger at himself combined with the shame over how he had treated his mother prevented him from reaching out and apologizing.

On a Saturday, a couple of weeks after the letter, Dawn and Y/N went to the shelter and adopted a pair of pit mix puppies, brothers. One was black with dark eyes and immediately bonded to Y/N. The other was tawny with gold eyes and took to Dawn almost as quickly. During the day they kept Olivia company but at night they came alive when their two favorite people returned home.

One evening about 6 weeks after the letter there was a knock on the door. Y/N excused herself from dinner and hurried to answer it, hoping that John or Bucky had returned, or that Michael had come to his senses.

She wasn't that lucky. Instead it was Sam looking tense and she could see the concern on his face. He looked haggard with circles under his eyes and a scraggly beard.

"Sam! We didn't expect to see you here. Please come in we're just finishing dinner. Would you like something to drink? Have you eaten yet?"

Sam shook his head "I'm fine, thank you. I need to talk to you and I heard John's wife is staying here and-"

Before he could finish he was almost knocked down by the dogs who had grown quickly and were very affectionate with people their alpha moms were comfortable with. He chuckled at their antics.

Once the dogs had thoroughly inspected him they went to lay on their pillow and he was able to talk again. Dawn and Olivia had finished cleaning up from dinner and came to see what the commotion was about. When she saw Sam, Olivia felt her eyes tearing up and started shaking her head, assuming it was bad news.

Sam tried to soothe her speaking softly "Hey, it's alright Olivia. Is it ok if I call you Olivia?"

She nodded silently

Sam sat on the couch "I'm not supposed to be here but I wanted to let you know that it's not as bad as it might seem and you shouldn't lose hope." He looked at Olivia and then to Y/N "Both of you. Please keep the faith and know I'm doing everything I can. I'm sorry I can't say any more about it. Take care of yourselves."

Before any of them could ask any questions he quickly stood and excused himself, leaving Olivia and Y/N staring at the door he left through.

The next day while Y/N was at work, Peppers receptionist, Brittany, called to let her know she had a visitor.

Y/N felt her nerves flare, she wasn't expecting anyone today but she told Brittany to send them in.

Y/N stood to greet a well dressed, petite woman with dark hair.

The woman spoke first "I'm Contessa Valentina Allegra deFontaine but you can call me Val. I need a moment of your time."

Y/N looked at her, appraising her, for a moment "Why do I have the feeling that you aren't really asking?" Shrugging, she waved at the chairs in front of her desk. "Have a seat, Val. Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, water?"

Val shook her head Y/N sat down.

Y/N waited for Val to say something while Val looked around her office before sitting. Y/N sighed, she had too much to do. "How can I help you?"

Val finally spoke but not about her reason for being there "The short blond in the pictures, that's your adopted sister Dawn Walker? And the others are your kids, Michael and Jessica? You have a beautiful family, shame about their father. We saw a few cases like his, people materializing in dangerous places. Very sad."

She paused but started back up before Y/N could reply "I'm surprised there aren't any pictures of James, or the two of you. John made it sound like you were attached at the hip."

She looked at Y/N knowingly "I get the feeling that there's some jealousy issues there, unhealthy for siblings, adopted or not."

Y/N finally had it "OK, I get it, you know all about me and my family, my life. I'm appropriately scared so can you just get to the point. What is this all about?"

Val tutted at her "No, no dear, oh no, I'm not trying to frighten you. I have large, well armed men for that. I'm just letting you know that I know all about you so, no point in trying to keep secrets."

She stood and started pacing the room before speaking again

"We have someone in common. You're closer to him than I am but I also have a vested interest in Sargeant Barnes. I think you can help me with that."

Y/N's face hardened "I haven't spoken to James in weeks so don't know how I could help you with him. Honestly I'm not sure I would help you if I knew anything. He has had enough people messing with him and I won't be one of them."

Val smiled as she sat down "I knew you were a woman of integrity, a lot of kids who lose their parents young go the other way. Protecting him even after those horrible pictures." She gave Y/N a look that seemed to be trying to convey sympathy but seemed more pained than anything else.

"I want you to know I had nothing to do with that mess. That Sharon is just bad news around attractive men but I need her too. For now." She chuckled darkly then shook her head and smiled at Y/N.

"But that's not why I'm here. I work for the US government and we need James' cooperation on a project I'm working on. I think your encouragement would go a long way for him, make it easier for him to make the right choice."

Y/N shook her head "I think you're overestimating my relationship with James. We've only seen each other a handful of times. We haven't even had any kind of contact in over a month. Then there's those pictures. He's obviously not that into me."

Val kept swinging and missing that sympathetic look on her face "Based on what I've heard, I don't think thats true. Regardless, if you do see or speak to him I need you to try to encourage him to take my offer. I'll make sure to keep you and your family safe if he does."

Y/N gasped and her eyes grew wide "Was that a threat? James better do what you say or you'll hurt my family? Who the Hell are you?"

Val smirked "No, of course it wasn't a threat. Goodness, you watch too many movies. Just keep me in mind when you see him. I think you'll be good for him and I'm never wrong." She quickly stood "Lovely meeting you, I'm sure I'll see you again."

Y/N sat at her desk, speechless and bewildered, trying to figure out what just happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On another continent, Bucky was sitting alone in a tiny motel room looking over a map to figure out where John and Sharon might have disappeared to. He wasn't convinced that they weren't intentionally evading him as opposed to being hurt or taken by some bad guys but he wasn't going to just leave them behind without trying to figure it out. He might hate both of them but they were his team, if you could call it that, and he knew better than to leave anyone behind.

The next morning he heard from a couple of old contacts in the area and he was almost sure that he had found the Power Broker. He went to the compound where they were supposed to be located and watched the activity until nightfall when everything looked quiet. He found a way in and crept through the site until he reached what looked like the main house.

He heard crying that sounded like Sharon and picked the lock to get it. As soon as he opened the door he could hear softer moans and the room smelled like sweat and sex. The noises stopped but John kept thrusting into her, under a blanket thank goodness, as she spoke.

"Well Bucky? Aren't you coming in? There is plenty of room if you want to join us." Sharon giggled "Have you figured it out yet?"

Bucky shook his head, looking away from them. "What that you'll fuck anyone and he's no better?"

Sharon laughed again "Don't be a prude and no, that's not it."

John groaned loudly and stilled, laughing "Sharon is the fucking Power Broker stupid."

He moved away from her and pulled a pair of sweats up as he stood. "I can't believe you were some fantastic spy and assassin but couldn't work that out." He shook his head "So much for the Winter Soldier"

Bucky shook his head "I'm not him anymore."

John stepped up to get in his face. "Obviously. You should retire if this is all too much for you. Wouldn't want you to get hurt or anything."

He gently pushed Bucky back, away from Sharon. "Keep your hands off, Sharon's mine. I let you have a taste and that's all you get."

Bucky shook his head in disgust "I have no interest in Sharon. Or you for that matter. If I'd known that you two were safe I would have headed home ages ago. So I'll just get out of your hair."

He turned to walk away but John grabbed his right arm. "Sorry Barnes but we're not done with you yet, I-."

Before John could finish his statement Bucky pulled out of his grip and punched him with everything he had and again until he knocked John to the ground.

Bucky towered over John, breathing heavily "I don't care, I'm done with you."

John looked over fearfully, holding his jaw "No, you can't go. I have someone who needs to talk to you."

Bucky gave John his best murder glare "Well, where are they?" His left hand whirred as he clenched it.

A woman's voice came from the balcony "I'm right here Sargent Barnes." She was petite with dark hair and reached out to shake his hand "I'm Val, nice meeting you but I will have to ask you to back off from Walker. I need him too."

Bucky shook his head "Val who? Who do you work for?"

"Contessa Valentina Allegra deFontaine but you can call me Val. I work for the U.S. just like you."

He scoffed "What do you want from me?"

"I'm helping president Ross put together a team. Like the Avengers but without the laws and rules that constricted them. People like you and your friend John over there who have dubious histories. Some familiar faces from the Red Room as well. We need you on that team."

Bucky looked at her confused. "Ross isn't president, the election isn't until November. Besides, I'm not much of a team player."

Val laughed "You worked pretty well with Wilson. Besides, it doesn't matter what excuses you come up with you will be on that team." She grabbed his left hand and looked over the prosthetic "This thing is beautiful, by the way. The Wakandan's were really holding out on us."

And sighed "Look, if you don't agree to join our team, we'll create a situation that demands your pardon be revoked and your new residence is the Raft. Then you'll never see your little girlfriend again. I don't think either of you would like that very much."

She turned to John "Would you please stop fucking every woman who comes within 10 feet of you? Selling you as the all American hero who made a terrible mistake doesn't work if you're cheating on your wife. And Sharon? Find someone else who can recreate the serum, before the election instead of wasting your energy on every slightly attractive man you meet."

Val turned to leave "I'll give you a week to decide Sarge. Don't disappoint me."

Bucky watched her walk out, more confused than ever.

@supraveng @cjand10 @440mxs-wife @kandis-mom @dtba-grey81 @calwitch @ozwriterchick

Chapter 11

[oopsgracie]

leaving and learning

just a little something i found in my drafts after rewatching euphoria, i miss them so bad. might make it into something bigger if i can find the inspiration but as always you can send me suggestions :)

—

"Ashtray O'Neill, if I have to drag you back here myself don't believe I won't for a second." He's stopped in the doorway, deciding whether to turn around and face her wrath or run, and risk her disappointment later. The late summer sun is bleeding through the window and spilling across the kitchen table that she's stood by. It catches her hair too, setting it ablaze in streams of red and gold and as much as it looks like a halo, she sure as hell ain't acting like no angel.

"You better listen to her bruh, she's mad scary for real." Fez sits on the worktop blinking slowly between them, trying not to laugh. "Ain't that right ma?" In his warmth she softens, it's the first and only time Lexi's resolve dwindles that day.

"I ain't coming back nowhere if you gonna get all fucking disgusting like that." He felt suddenly like they were trying to parent him— a foreign concept. Even at seventeen she was a force to be reckoned with, a beacon of overbearing, obsessively outgoing optimism, and someone he regretfully found himself turning soft for, try as he might to wall her out, which was the first and only time he needed to learn that there were more ways than one to love Lexi Howard.

"It's not disgusting. What's disgusting is your spelling. Now sit." She doesn't ever raise her voice, it just sharpens into something surprisingly threatening. Fez watches with an open mouth.

For the first time in his life, Ashtray listens.

After she's explained how to do one, been through two with him and offered up a pencil he's more than well versed in the fundamental principles and purpose of the crossword, just struggling to put it into practice. Lexi sits patiently beside him, embodying encouragement, pointing out mistakes he's made and quietly showing him how to fix them, grinning like an idiot when he does it himself even when she's anything but.

He doesn't say anything this time when Fez comes up behind her and tucks his head into the crook of her shoulder, hiding a smile. They deserve this much, to share afternoons together while they can. It's so rare they indulge themselves in this little domestic dream she's constructed— it feels a lot like playing house when she stays for the odd weekend, blissful and naive and ultimately... all pretend. But such a comfort they act like it won't eventually be quashed by the fetters of reality come Monday morning when she leaves for school. So who's to tell them they can't have that? Their little corner of the universe to share, however briefly? Not Ashtray.

Even so, she pretends not to notice for his sake, beaming with pride that's contagious as he fills in the final letter.

Correctly.

It's nothing really, but she makes him feel like it matters.

Which is why he does it again the next day, a little faster this time. And again after that the next morning. He finds himself spelling when she's at school, he finds himself spelling when she's gone. It's the only semblance of routine he maintains and a reminder. Of what he isn't quite sure, only that it feels like warmth and that summer sunlight falling on his face again— everything about it is simply, undoubtedly Lexi and serves as a comfort in her absence, a certain kind of motivation to be better.

He thinks that might be what a lesson is.

[lokis-version]

There's something off about the farmer.

Elliott x FemOC!Vampire!Farmer

Elliott had noticed that Isadora never seemed to come to his cabin during the day unless it was overcast or night. He found it strange that she refused to be touched and the one time he did touch her, though purely through accident, she was ice cold. Then there were her eyes, while beautiful, they were an unnatural hue of gold.

Elliott wondered if there was more to Isadora than he realized. He wanted to test his theory, while it was a ridiculous one, he couldn't help but think it was true. She was too pale, never ate, and never drank. He doesn't even think he's seen her in the clinic for a check-up.

Thus, when the sky darkened and he heard a familiar rapt of three gentle knocks on his door he set his plan into motion. He got up from his chair and walked to his door, opening it to see Isadora. He adored her, his darling lover. They had only been together a week, but had been in love since fall two years ago.

"Ah, my raven knocks once again upon my door it seems," he teased, bringing her comfort before he dug a dagger through her with the issue he was going to press.

Isadora smiled, it made him feel worse about to do. "And I will forever do so, evermore." She walked into his cabin with a soft and gentle step. She took her usual position on his couch with a small hum.

Elliott sucked in a breath as he shut the door. It was now or never he told himself. He moved to his desk, grabbing his fancy silver letter opener, which Isadora gifted him a year into their friendship. He swallowed and glanced at her. She seemed so calm and unaware of what he was about to do just to test a ridiculous theory.

Elliott brought the blade of the letter opener to his palm and cut it, just enough to draw blood, but not deep enough he needed stitches. From what he read, he didn't need to show much blood for the theory to be sound.

Elliott glanced over to Isadora, watched as her calm demeanor shifted and her once golden eyes darkened into an almost brown color. Her nostrils flared and her jaw clenched, but she stayed put in her spot on the couch. He found himself humored by how well trained she was.

Elliott moved around his cabin to grab a cloth to clean his bleeding palm, having all the evidence he needed. "So, my darling, when were you going to tell me you craved blood? Was it when your hunger was too much and you finally killed me or perhaps when I accidentally stumbled across you draining your next victim?" He pressed with a mocking tone. Truly, he was irritated that she didn't tell him.

Isadora swallowed, something Elliott knew she didn't have to do. "I..I was planning on telling you, I swear! I just could not figure out how!" She said rapidly to defend herself.

Elliott hummed, not knowing if he believed her, but he couldn't say that she wasn't telling the truth. How could she tell him without him thinking she was crazy or perhaps playing?

Elliott walked over to Isadora with a prideful step, he didn't fear her. Oh no, she was far too submissive for him to be afraid. He grabbed her chin with his index finger and thumb, forcing her to look up at him.

"My raven is instead a bat. A heathen of the night. A leech for blood. Do you crave it when you're with me? Tell the truth." Elliott pressed further. He wanted to know.

Isadora nodded slightly as her still brownish eyes were filled with hunger. "I do, but I...I keep myself full with animal blood to not harm you, my shrike. I could never harm you," she practically whimpered at the idea of harming him.

Elliott dropped the cloth from his still bleeding palm. He was to test how trained she really was tonight. How long could she hold off until she devoured him. "Really? Well, then let's test that theory, my darling."

Please tell me how I did. I only take cash or credit though. X

[nevaeh-daughterofvalcarol]

*over letter sent on heavy paper with a wax seal because it’s a good excuse to show off fantasy-land skills*

Dear Mumma,

I went to go see Nonna Gigi for you, Zia Vera gave me a lift over. She’s super sweet, I see why you love her so much. We made pasta for dinner and then watched Snow White together. She adopted a cat last week named Meg, because she doesn’t have the heart to call her Peggy. It’s a dark brown tabby with a heart of gold, and didn’t even try to go after Inej and Jesper, and she let me hold her while she made us tea.

Jonny and Amma are doing well, though they miss you. Jonny has clung to me nonstop since I got home, and Zia Peggy had been over nearly every day to visit, and sometimes Athena comes to help me watch Jonny.

Our date went really well, by the way. We went out to this French cafe by Central Park and then for a walk where all the cherry blossoms were blooming, she braided them all through my hair. Some people stared and it made her nervous, though, so we left. I didn’t mind at all, though, and we went back to her room and put on pajamas and I helped re-dye her hair and then we snuggled, it felt so nice. I know you’re really protective of me, but you don’t need to worry about her, really. She feels safe in the way you and Amma and Zia Vera do — like nothing can hurt me when I’m with her. I glow around her almost every time we’re in the same room, it’s amazing. My eyes, too, and you know how rarely they glow. She gave me the rings you gave her and I just about cried — I can’t describe how much it meant and felt. I don’t know if we’ll ever get married, or even how long we’ll last. But I feel like we’re going to last a long time. And I can imagine a future. One that’s together.

My garden is thriving, and I’ve started making a window box for you and Amma’s room, with all the plants I know you like — let me know if you have any requests. Oh, and Amma spent all afternoon making pasta a bit ago. Mumma, she spent all day hand-making it because she wanted to. I don’t think she could’ve known this before hand, but she just happened to make the dish my Mamma made for us when we got sick or just in the winter when it was cold. It’s my comfort food, and it tasted just like it. Well, different. For one, Amma likes spices more than Mamma did, and I’m okay with that. It’s like a continuation of an old tradition. Anyways, I must go, Jonny wants to help me harvest the tomatoes I sped up for a good fresh sauce. I love you very very much and can’t wait to see you.

Much love, your daughter,

@iyla-difransisco

P.S. just reply by text, I love letters because I grew up with them but text is completely fine<3

Dear Iyla,

If you must know I do fancy hand written letters too which is why I decided to answer you with one. I sadly don't have any wax to cell the letter with me but if I did I would have used it.

I'm overjoyed to say the least. I'm very glad you got stop spend some times with Grandma Gigi. And I'm also very glad to hear that she got the cat! She has been hesitating between two cats lately, and by the description you gave me, she's chose the one I wanted! But please make sure she rests too. I'm very glad you had fun during your time together though.

I'm very glad to read that everyone is doing fine. But please if anything is going wrong tell me the truth okay? Not that I doubt you, I believe your words, but I just wanted to make sure. On my side everything is good. I don't really appreciate everyone at the school, I mostly don't like the straight boys that asked me on dates already multiples times but what can I do about that. Speaking of date, it does seems like I did worry for nothing. But I'll let you know that I had to make the line clear just so they know. And I'm very glad you liked the rings! Those were my parents and they really mean a lot to me. By the way, I'll show them your letter when I comeback saying that you see a future together, it's adorable.

Glad to hear that our house is still good. The garden is probably the most beautiful place in house so. And I've been wanting a window box for a while now! So thank my dear favorite daughter. Now this part got me quite surprised. But I'm really glad your Amma could make you comfort food, especially as it's pasta. You'll have to keep some for the moment I come back. And I'm also really glad to see that your unexpected leave of the house only made your bound with your brother stronger. Though it would be great not to do it again because I can't support the crying all night, please never leave him like that again. Anyways, I'm so sad I can't be with you all right now. I misses you guys so much, and I miss holding you or singing lullabies for Jonny or cuddling with your Amma in bed. My bed feels so lonely it's unbearable. I have to go see what is in the package Aunt Peggy sent me before starting class but remember; I love you mire than the multiverse itself.

With love, from your favorite mother, Me, Nevaeh (Romanoff)-Danvers ;)

[violettduchess]

Clavis: touch prompt # 3, hiding face in neck (f!reader please)

A/N: Dusting off some (very) old requests before all that heartache gets rolling

Clavis x reader, fluff

Word Count: 1337

The sound of a key unlocking the front door of your cottage interrupts the satisfying scratch of your pencil on the cream-colored paper of your notebook. One glance out the window and the pale, rose-colored sky tells you who is entering your home, explains the smile slowly spreading across your face.

You hear the click of the door closing, the muffled sound of clothing as a coat is removed and hung up. And then he walks through the doorway, golden eyes bringing the last rays of the day’s sunshine with him. Your pencil drops, abandoned as you nearly sprint over, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him soundly before he can even say a word, relishing the feel of his surprised smile against your lips. He does not however pull you into his arms as usual and you step back, one brow arched in question.

You didn’t notice the way he had his hands behind his back at first. Excitement had sent you flying straight to him without a care for anything else. But now you see it along with the twinkling glint in his eyes.

“Clavis…..”

Unable to keep it to himself any longer, you find yourself suddenly in possession of something square-shaped and heavy, wrapped in a velvet cloth the color of wisteria. 

“The holidays are over,” you say slowly, head tilted in question.

“This came later. It had a long journey to make, after all.” He sounds eager and smug at the same time. Curious you pull on the silver silk ribbon and then open the marvelously soft cloth to reveal something that makes you gasp.

“I don’t believe it…..”

Unable to play it cool any longer, he gleefully sweeps you and your treasure up into his arms and carries you over to the blush-colored armchair you love to curl up in to read. He drops down into it, with you across his lap, your legs hanging over the plush, rounded armrest.

“How did you even…..Iolite is so far away and I only mentioned this to you a few days before Christmas.” Your fingertips trace the cover of the book. It’s made of rich green leather, the color of a summer forest at dusk, with orchids in glimmering pinks and golds embossed around the edges. The lettering is a language you don’t understand, but it doesn’t matter. This treasure right here? You’ve heard this is one of the most beautifully illustrated books in the world.

“I’m a marvel. Haven’t I told you how wonderful I am? Don’t you just love me?” He tightens his arms around you, his smile sharpening to a grin when you laugh.

“As if I could love you any more than I already do,” you murmur, still engrossed in the beauty of the book. You miss the way your words bring color to his face, the sudden, wild thump of his heart. He swallows, unused to such casual declarations of love. 

“I do have, ah, one question, my love.” He settles you more comfortably against him, his arms locked around you like a dragon hoarding its most precious treasure. “Since it has not been translated and, while you can do a great many things, I don’t believe you can read Iolitian….so why did you want this particular book?”

You smile, almost starry-eyed in your enchantment. “Because it is supposed to be one of the most exquisitely drawn books ever created.” Breathing in, you lift the satisfyingly heavy cover and open to the first pages. What you find is enough to cause the breath you were holding to rush out in a gasp.

“Look….” you whisper. Clavis tries to see what you do. It is an illustration of a garden, full of lush, vivid flowers and leaves in myriad shades of green. On one page is a man, mostly hidden behind bushes, longingly looking to the other page, where a woman is peering at him from around the trunk of a tree, her expression as full of yearning as his.

“Are they playing hide and seek?”

He’s teasing you and you tear your gaze away long enough to shoot him a Look. 

“They are drawn to each other. Look at the details.” Your voice is hushed, soft with reverence. “Look at her eyes, the eyelashes, the shadow across her face. You see how much she wants to go to him in every single line of it. And the plants…look at the veins in the different flower petals. The ground is so detailed you can see each blade of grass.” The tips of your fingers skim the page, admiringly. The beauty of it is almost overwhelming. “And to think, Jin of all people told me about this book.”

You feel Clavis tense underneath you. “Wait, this was a recommendation from Jin?”

“Mm hm.” You carefully turn the page and then blink. The man and the woman have left the protective shadows of the trees and are crossing the clearing to meet one another. And they are both completely naked. Your lips part but no sound comes out. Clavis’s eyes light up like solar flares, delightfully surprised.

“Dearie me, that is definitely exquisite detail.” 

You remove your hand from the page, clearing your throat. “It….certainly is….accurate.”

Clavis reaches around you, poking at the naked woman with his finger. “Just look at those–” You swat his hand away from her, eyes narrowing slightly.

“It is a rare book. You shouldn’t be touching it.”

His grin could light up your entire cottage in the midst of the darkest winter.

“You were just touching all those leaves and flowers on the previous page.”

You ignore that and quickly turn the page. What greets you is not the man and woman embracing. Or perhaps that is in there. Somewhere. Somewhere among the many illustrations of the man and the woman in the clearing. Still naked. But now in various positions. Still in incredibly realistic detail.

You catch a glimpse of raised legs and bent knees and open mouths and tongues and fingers and body parts that usually would not be so readily and merrily exposed to the world.

A squeak leaps from your throat. You turn, the book falling to the floor as you grab hold of Clavis and bury your face in his neck, your cheeks burning. His arms tighten around you, one hand coming up to hold the back of your head against him.

“Oh, darling. That was a bit much. All at once like that. It’s ok. It’s ok.” You hear the laughter winding its way through his words but you don’t care. You simply hold on to him, eyes squeezed shut as if that would remove the images now burned into your mind.

He strokes your hair soothingly, voice still bubbling with amusement. “You didn’t stop to wonder why Jin of all people would recommend a book?”

Clutching his neck with one hand, face still pressed against him, you slowly shake your head, your heart finally coming down from its burst of fluttering.

“I thought….I thought he was being nice.”

Clavis glances down at the book now laying face down on the wooden floor. “Perhaps he was? Didn’t any of that look-”

“NO!”

He laughs again, squeezing you against him in pure delight. “Oh, my sweet little bunny.” With a tenderness most would not think him capable of, he pries your warm face away from his neck, his fingers lovingly holding your chin. “Look at you. Speechless and flustered. All from some drawings in a book.”

You huff out a breath of air, unable to stop the slight pout now on your lips.

“Wouldn’t it be so much more fun,” he murmurs as he leans forward, brushing his lips against your still flushed cheek, the sensitive line of your jaw, “if you were speechless and flustered,” he is now the one with his face against your neck, his lips leaving a line of small, atomic kisses down its slope, “because of me?”

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @neoqueen-sailorvirgo @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart @bubblexly

[boyrobott]

i saw the future unfold in silver and gold

Professor Ochanomizu has some things to discuss with Dr. Tenma.

Read on AO3.

Dr. Tenma,

I'm so sorry you have to hear this news through a letter, but I can't seem to get in contact with you over the phone, and you weren't home when I dropped in last week. The press is expecting a public announcement from me any day now regarding this situation, and I don't believe it's right or fair for you to have to find out about this in such an impersonal way, so I suppose this will have to do.

Your robot son, Tobio, recently reemerged after nearly a year of absence, and I'm pleased to say that he is healthy, safe, and well-adjusted — remarkably so, in fact, considering his circumstances. He was in the United States, working as a performer for a popular American circus, but he wished to quit his role there, so I have taken him back to Japan with me instead, and I intend to ensure he has a proper childhood from now on. His upbringing so far has been… unorthodox, to say the absolute least.

However, we are still debating the subject of the boy's permanent placement. Until more suitable arrangements can be made, I have been acting as temporary guardian for him, and while I'm more than willing to continue fostering him indefinitely, I understand that you, as his father, have the strongest potential claim to him if you wish to exercise your parental rights, and I will not contest it if you choose to do this. My only wish is to see the boy receive the stable, loving home he deserves.

You should also know, to avoid any possible confusion in the future, that your son has decided to change his name to "Astro", and is no longer comfortable with any references to his previous name. Please keep this in mind should you choose to pay him a visit.

All the best,

Ochanomizu Hiroshi

Dr. Tenma,

I'm sorry to disturb you again so soon. I understand all of this must be quite surprising for you, and I certainly do not wish to overwhelm you, but as you haven't come forward to seize custody of your son just yet, he remains in my care for the foreseeable future. Of course, I'm perfectly happy to bear the bulk of parental responsibilities for as long as I must, but it has come to my attention that Astro needs further education than the few years he has received so far, and I do not believe it would be just to exclude you from the decision when you have such an important role in his life.

With the recent declarations of fundamental rights and liberties for robots all over the country, I've been considering the possibility of enrolling Astro in the local primary school, but he tells me that you tutored him privately within your own home for the majority of his life until the circus picked him up. It is my personal impression that he would flourish in a more social environment (he is an extremely extroverted child, as I'm sure you already know) but if you wish for him to receive a more independent form of education, I'm certain we can reach a healthy compromise that suits his temperament.

Please do try and respond to me as soon as you can. The window for enrollment is closing soon, and I will not allow the boy to miss yet another year of schooling.

All the best,

Ochanomizu Hiroshi

Dr. Tenma,

I suppose I'm beginning to sound a bit like a broken record at this point, and I do apologize for that, but as you have still not returned any of my calls or responded to my previous letters, I would simply like to remind you that your son is still residing in my home at the current moment, and you have given me no indication whether you would like to reclaim custody over him or not.

I understand this must be quite difficult for you to process, and it is absolutely not my intention to force you into a decision you aren't ready to make. However, now that Astro is attending primary school, and interacting with his peers on a more regular basis, he has been having some trouble understanding why the other children have a mother and a father to care for them and love them while he has no parents at all. It breaks my heart to see him like this. The boy is hurting, and I cannot help him. I cannot give him what he needs. I suppose it was only the foolish fancy of an old man to ever believe that I could.

The child needs his parents, Umataro. The child needs you. Please don't let him down.

Hiroshi

Dr. Tenma,

Well, your silence is certainly speaking for itself, and I suppose that was your intention all along. Perhaps I was an old fool, believing I could convince you to reconnect with your son when the two of you have been separated far longer than you haven't. I can see you have no interest in any further contact with him, and you clearly won't be changing your mind on this anytime soon. I assure you, I won't trouble you on this matter again.

But I don't think you fully understand what you're giving up. Astro is a truly wonderful, wonderful boy — he's kind and gentle, and always so eager to lend a hand. No matter the situation, he always drops everything to rush to the rescue when the city calls on him, and he is so genuinely happy to help. He has the most selfless soul I've ever seen. He's strong, and brave, and so bright. I couldn't be any prouder of him than if he was my own son. He is the greatest gift that life has ever given me, and every day, I thank heaven for the privilege to know him as I do. I never could have imagined such a blessing as his presence in my home.

He will be going away from me very soon. He will have a proper family from now on, with two parents, just like the other children, and he will have no further need of me. Nonetheless, I cherish every moment I have spent with him, and I wouldn't change a thing. I am saddened for you, that you will never know this incredible boy you created.

I see so much of you in him.

All the best,

Ochanomizu Hiroshi

[sunnyboos]

I Vow To You - Chapter 1

Dear Queen Ruka,

I hope this letter finds you in good health, my dear friend.

Your husband has done well, lending his aid in defending our kingdom while my king rests his war-torn body. Muzan has been defeated; no longer will he cause our kingdom any harm. No doubt, he hides in shame, licking at his battle wounds but fear not, his powers have been stripped from him and his title is no more than a distant memory.

The healers say my love will recover with time and I will be forever grateful to your husband for saving him. Words will never be able to convey the joy I feel that we will know peace.

I hear you are with child, another boy, perhaps? My congratulations to you, that is absolutely wonderful news. Yumeko has been quite restless, imploring us to make the journey to your kingdom. Of course, contrary to what she would like me to believe, I am aware her inquiry is more so to see the young Prince Kyojuro. I'm sure he's quite looking forward to having another sibling to play with – I do hope he is well. If he's anything like his father, he is going to become a fine man and rule over your kingdom with patience and kindess.

Please do send word when your child is born; we would be honored to attend to lay upon many gifts as we've done so before.

PS – please do send my regards to the young Prince, I'm sure he misses Yumeko just as much as she misses him.

Sincerely,

Queen Sana

***One Year Later***

Vibrant, wide hues, resembling that of a fiery blaze stared at the large castle gates; eagerly awaiting the arrival of his long time friend, Princess Yumeko of the Shiratori Royal Family. Lightly bouncing in place, he felt antsy standing in place for too long – when would they be arriving? Hopefully soon!

His antics did not go unnoticed by his mother as she leaned her head slightly towards him, “My son, please stop fidgeting” she gently chided, “I understand your enthusiasm to see the Princess Yumeko, but you must be respectful” she held the heir's younger brother in her arms as he cooed lightly up to his mother while the older Rengoku brother nodded furiously, indicating he had heard his mother.

“Apologies mother!” the seven year old immediately stalled his movements with much effort. The poor boy could barely contain his excitement; he had grown quite close to you as both your mothers had known each other long before either of you were born. As you grew, you continued to bond and form a beautiful friendship; one that both families had been allowing to bloom. One could go as far as to say, they had hoped this would blossom into an eventual courtship: uniting both kingdoms. But it was far too early to predict the likelihood of events to transpire.

He stood by his father's side in his red and white royal uniform; though it was not as ornately decorated to the degree of his father's, he looked to be the spitting image of the king. Shinjuro's uniform had his royal crest pinned to his coat over his right breast, made with solid gold in the shape of a fiery blaze and a red ruby in the centre it. Gold buttons adorned his crimson coat and a stark white cape rested on his shoulders with flames lining the hem. One day, when Kyojuro would take his father's place, he would wear both the crest and cape proudly and rule over the kingdom.

A jovial laugh sounded from the king, watching as his son desperately attempted not to bounce in place as he patiently impatiently waited his friend to arrive, “My love, he is just excited to see young Yumeko, it has been quite some time since last they have seen each other” he reminded.

She quietly giggled, “Yes, I'm well aware, my king, but our son must remember to mind his manners”

The young boy looked up to his mother, nodding his head, “My apologies, mother, I did not mean to cause disrespect!”

“It's alright, my young flame” her ruby red orbs acknowledge her eldest son, “Just please be sure to be respectful for when they do arrive” nodding again, he turned his attention back towards the castle entrance, a wide smile on his face as the creaking of the bridge slowly began to lower, signalling someone's arrival... your arrival.

The grin on the young Rengoku's face continued to widen and his eyes shined brighter than the sun upon staring at the carriage that most definitely contained both you and your mother inside. Your father lead the handful of knights at his command on his valiant steed: a beautiful, ebony stallion. The smile on your father's face resembled the young boy's as he reached just steps away from the Rengoku family in front of him. He dismounted from his stallion, Yoru, and made his way towards the carriage, waving off any knights that were ready to help both yourself and your mother from the carriage; that honor would always and forever be his for as long as he lived. He gently opened the carriage door, your mother taking his hand as she gently and gracefully stepped outside; her other hand held part of her dress as to not step on the delicate material.

Once she was safely on the ground, he then assisted you. As you stepped out, the young boy's face flushed. You were wore a royal blue dress with tulip sleeves and gold feather detailing at the hem of the skirt and sleeves. Half of your dark chocolate locks were pinned back by a gold feather hair clip, the other half rested on your shoulders. Your eyes as blue as the wide-open sky; shining in the sunlight as they focused on him.

“Kenji, my friend!” Shinjuro greeted the man as you all approached the Rengoku's, “You look well!”

The man grinned, “As do you” your father's attention focused on Ruka as he bowed his head in respect, “Congratulations to you both; another son! You'll have your hands full if he's anything like his father” causing Shinjuro to laugh.

Ruka smiled warmly, “Our eldest seems to have taken to his father's personality, I would say. It will be interesting, to say the least, to watch as our young Senjuro grows to become a young man”

While the adults were engaged in their conversation, you stood before the young prince, wanting to embrace him after being apart for so long, but due to both parents' strict policies on etiquette, you held back, “Hello, Prince Kyojuro!” you politely greeted as you curtsy. The young boy bowed his head, smile still as wide as ever, greeting you in return.

“Hello, Princess Yumeko!” the men could not help but snicker at the two of you while their wives smiled warmly at the sight before them.

Ruka decided to speak, “Let us go inside, I'm sure you're tired from the long journey. Kyojuro, Yumeko, would you like to stay outside and play in the garden?” she suggested.

Both of you eagerly nodded your heads as you looked up to Queen Ruka. You looked back to each other and before you could speak, the young Rengoku heir took a hold of your hand in his, “This way, Yumeko-Chan!”

“Ok!” you stumbled slightly but you were able to find your footing. One hand holding on to your dress, the other holding just as tight to his as you followed behind him, making your way to the garden; one of your favorite places to be.

In your kingdom, both yourself and your mother, tended to the swans that occupied the large fountain. You always enjoyed watching them interact with one another. Your mother cherished those beautiful creatures; they symbolized your family name. You always wondered what it would be like to fly freely as they do; soaring above the clouds and enjoying the air between their feathery wings.

“We're here!” the young boy cheered as he slowed his pace, allowing you a moment to catch your breath, yet your hands were still holding on to each others, “Mother had these planted for your family!” your brow raised as you followed the boy. Before you could ask him what he was referring to, your eyes settled on the beautiful array of white roses that stretched all around the marble fountain.

You gasped as you grinned, “They're so pretty!”

Carefully, the young boy leaned over and plucked one of the smaller blossoms, ensuring no thorns had been weaved into the petals. He turned to look at you, “May I?” he asked. You nodded. He took a step forward and tucked the flower on top of your ear; weaving the rose into your hair as your cheeks flushed, “I... saw father do this mother once... I think it-” you cut him off by kissing his cheek, his eyes wide and face gone ablaze.

You lean back and smile, “Thank you, Kyojuro... I will cherish it as long as I can”

And that began what was soon to be a beautiful courtship.

Unfortunately, just outside the Rengoku Kingdom, a far sinister plan was being put into motion. In a dark cavern, tucked away in the darkness of the Wisteria covered forest, the once well respected advisor of King Shiratori, now nothing but a pitiful waste of a man as he lay in wait, plotting his revenge against the kingdom. A wicked smile graced his lips as he watched the magical portal before him; the young Prince Kyojuro and Princess Yumeko.

That girl... She will be the downfall of her father's kingdom... One day.

He watched as you laughed with the young Prince, a smile so young and innocent.

“She will be mine”

[vickyvicarious]

I've got thoughts about Lucy's final request, and how it is both somewhat of a burden and a weapon for Van Helsing.

Very shortly after she opened her eyes in all their softness, and putting out her poor, pale, thin hand, took Van Helsing's great brown one; drawing it to her, she kissed it. "My true friend," she said, in a faint voice, but with untellable pathos, "My true friend, and his! Oh, guard him, and give me peace!"

"I swear it!" he said solemnly, kneeling beside her and holding up his hand, as one who registers an oath. 

These are the last words Lucy spoke; her dying request. There are probably a couple of ways to interpret those words, depending on how much you think Lucy knows in this moment. But I think it's pretty obvious the meaning VH takes: protect Arthur from her, and stop her vampire-self to give her a peaceful death.

The reason this moment feels so significant to me, is because it is the moment that Van Helsing becomes a vampire hunter. He has been here in the capacity of a doctor treating an illness. But now there's no saving his patient - that's done. He could leave.

He's not going to... probably wouldn't have even without this promise, because he would have wanted to ensure no new vampires start terrorizing anyone else, but especially so with this promise. He now has a duty to kill Lucy's vampiric self. He's made an oath.

And she requested it of him alone. I think this adds another layer to him wanting to keep things hidden at first. Not just to avoid being seen as crazy, but now because he's trying to 'protect Arthur', both from vamp!Lucy and from the knowledge of vamp!Lucy (until it's too late).

This vow probably feels pretty isolating, especially in these early moments when everyone else believes things are all over and only Van Helsing knows what is about to begin. He feels responsible for whatever may happen, because he is the only one who knows and she asked him to stop it. If Lucy starts to prey upon people, that's on him now.

It makes me think of a certain line when he and Seward are looking at Lucy's lifelike corpse:

The Professor looked sternly grave. He had not loved her as I had, and there was no need for tears in his eyes. He said to me: "Remain till I return," and left the room. He came back with a handful of wild garlic from the box waiting in the hall, but which had not been opened, and placed the flowers amongst the others on and around the bed. Then he took from his neck, inside his collar, a little gold crucifix, and placed it over the mouth.

Van Helsing is looking down at her with dread and a sense of heavy duty, I think. This is a 'there's much to be done' moment for him, where he steels himself for action.

At the same time, he's immediately begun using this public conversation with Lucy as a sort of social key to unlock cooperation. When Seward protests what he sees as needlessly mutilating her corpse:

"Were you not amazed, nay horrified, when I would not let Arthur kiss his love—though she was dying—and snatched him away by all my strength? Yes! And yet you saw how she thanked me, with her so beautiful dying eyes, her voice, too, so weak, and she kiss my rough old hand and bless me? Yes! And did you not hear me swear promise to her, that so she closed her eyes grateful? Yes!"

...when he wants to ensure Arthur's cooperation to keep Lucy's diary...

"I want you to give me permission to read all Miss Lucy's papers and letters. Believe me, it is no idle curiosity. I have a motive of which, be sure, she would have approved."

That one is a less specific reference, but the entire preceding conversation revolves around what happened by Lucy's deathbed, so it's clear that VH isn't just saying 'she would've approved' out of nowhere.

I have a feeling more will pop up as needed in the future as well. This is just the very first day. But I thought it was interesting the dual purpose Lucy's final request serves.