#this is the smallest token of my affection

[chibieggplant]

Law falls for you slow and steady

Trafalgar law Headcanons | When he has a crush on you

Law's crush on you manifests slowly and subtly. It starts with him noticing the way your eyes light up when discussing something you're passionate about or the kindness you show to others.

He often finds himself stealing glances at you when he thinks you're not looking, only to quickly avert his gaze when you catch him. Law tries to act cool and collected about it, but his crewmates soon start noticing him staring dreamily at you and you can bet they tease him mercilessly about it.

Law's normally precise and focused nature becomes slightly scattered when he's in your presence. He might find himself lost in thought, daydreaming about cute or romantic scenarios involving you, only to snap back to reality with an embarrassed expression.

Despite his tough exterior, Law is not immune to unintentionally blushing furiously or getting flustered around you. Compliment him or praise his skills as a doctor / fighter and he will turn into a stuttering mess.

Whenever you're around, Law's usually calm and collected demeanor becomes a bit more chaotic as he tries to hide his nerves. Suddenly he turns into Corazon and is now tripping over his feet and accidentally bumping into things.

Law's attempts at flirting with you are often hilariously awkward, he's not used to expressing his emotions openly. His deadpan delivery and bluntness don’t help his case either. Penguin tried to give him advice on how to be more romantic but it often comes out wrong. “You’re like the North Star in my chaotic sea of life…except, I’m not lost or anything. Just metaphoricaly…speaking.”

He often attempts to make conversation with you…key word being attempt “So um…did you hear about that new medical breakthrough? It’s fascinating stuff. Way less complicated than…emotions…did you know that the human heart beats around 100,000 times a day?”

He protective side comes out around you, subtly keeping an eye on you during battles or dangerous situations, ensuring you're safe without drawing too much attention to it…Though it’s painfully obvious to everyone else when the poster boy for sticking to the plan diverts his plan just to help you.

Law often overreacts when you have even the slightest injury or ailment, treating it as a major medical emergency. His crewmates find it amusing how he switches instantly into "doctor mode" for the smallest of issues when it comes to you. You have a small cut on your arm? He insists it needs to be sterilised immediately, let him look at it, it might need stitches.

As Law's feelings deepen, he finds himself drawn to your company more and more. He starts seeking opportunities to spend time together, whether it's finally coming out of his office to join you for lunch, or stealing you away to discuss strategies for upcoming missions because he needs your input…he doesn’t, he just hasn’t spoken to you in the past hour and he misses you.

Law's crewmates, particularly Bepo and Penguin, become keen observers of his behavior around you. They notice the subtle shifts in his demeanor, the way his gaze softens when he looks at you, and the genuine smiles that grace his usually stoic face in your presence.

Bepo, becomes his unintentional wingman, trying to nudge him closer to you whenever possible. Though his attempts often just make Law stumble into you. Bepo pushes him to compliment you “Doesn’t y/ns hair look nice today captain? Tell her it looks nice” *cue the adorable bear eyes that Law can’t say no to*

Over time, as your relationship deepens, Law might find the courage to subtly hint at his feelings, although he remains cautious about how you might respond. He’s already lost someone he loves once he can’t lose you too.

He starts leaving small gifts or tokens of affection for you in your room, though he would never admit they were from him. His gifts often end up being quirky or unconventional items that reflect his personality, like a tiny model of the Polar Tang or a cute plushie of Bepo.

Regardless of his reserved nature, Law's crush on you brings out a softer side of him. Over time, as trust and mutual understanding deepen between you and Law, he begins to open up more to you. He find himself sharing personal stories and memories of his past with you.

Despite being a former warlord, Law becomes a bit of a nervous wreck when he tries to confess his feelings to you. He rehearses his lines multiple times in the mirror, only to end up blurting out something completely different.

“You know I’ve performed countless surgeries but trying to fix my heart after meeting you is the toughest one yet…wait, that sounded smoother in my head. What I meant is that it seems that I have a significant affection coefficient towards you…dammit! I mean, I-i really like you a lot!”

Law’s crush on you blossoms into true love, he cherishes the bond you have that’s built on trust, respect and genuine care. You become a source of joy and lightheartedness during his chaotic days, bringing much needed colour and love to his life.

[thedensworld]

Location App | C.Hs

Pairing: Vernon x reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: You finally found the right function of the share location apps

Vernon isn’t a man of many words—he’s a man of action. He doesn’t tell you to quit your job at the event organizing company or give up your dreams of becoming a writer. Instead, he quietly hands you an allowance and pays for a writing course, making it clear that he's got your back. He even takes it a step further by personally checking in on your progress almost every day, making sure you're staying on track.

When it comes to food, Vernon doesn’t bother asking about your favorite dishes. He just brings everything you could possibly want to the table. You might crave vanilla ice cream tonight, but he’s already stocked up on both vanilla and chocolate for tomorrow’s cravings, always anticipating your needs before you even voice them. And each time, your heart swells with gratitude for the way he cares for you.

Vernon isn’t one to hang out much, either. Even when he does go out twice a week to catch up with his friends, he never stays long—two hours at most before he's back home. Without missing a beat, he slips into your arms, eager to share everything about his day, all while showering you with the little tokens of affection he picked up for you along the way.

“What’s wrong?” Vernon’s voice breaks through your thoughts, his brows furrowed in concern.

You blink at him, raising your eyebrows in surprise. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem restless. Are you in pain?” he asks, his eyes searching yours.

Every time he instinctively picks up on how you’re feeling or goes out of his way to make your life easier, you find yourself wanting to kiss him right then and there, overwhelmed by how effortlessly amazing he is as a boyfriend.

“What’s this?” you asked Vernon as he showed you an app he had just installed on your phone.

“It’s a shared location app. I’ll always know where you are, and you’ll know my location anytime you open it,” he explained, his tone casual.

Ever since you joined a writing course last year, you’ve started attending small gatherings with fellow authors, usually at libraries or cozy cafes.

“Since you’ve been going out more without me, I just want to make sure I know where you are,” Vernon added, his eyes glancing at yours for a reaction.

“You could always just text me,” you pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

“I know,” he replied, “but sometimes it’s better if you can have your day off without feeling the need to update me constantly. You should have fun and not worry about checking in.”

In the beginning, you found yourself using the app frequently, but after a few months, it slipped your mind. You could barely remember where the app was on your phone. Vernon, on the other hand, kept checking it now and then, making sure you were safe when you weren’t together. He never intruded but would casually ask about your day, subtly referencing the places you’d visited.

“How do you know?!” you exclaimed one afternoon when Vernon asked what you were doing at the flower shop near his work. You hadn’t mentioned anything because you were preparing a surprise for him.

“I saw your location this afternoon. I was surprised to see you so close by,” he admitted with a soft chuckle.

You grinned and pulled out a bouquet of flowers you had arranged just for him. “My friends and I attended a flower arrangement event, and I got these for you!”

His face softened, and he leaned in to kiss you. “Thanks, babe. I was actually planning to drop by and see you, but things got crazy at work. These are beautiful—thank you.”

With a warm smile, he kissed you again, and the simple moment of shared affection made you realize how much thought he put into even the smallest aspects of your relationship.

*

"Hey babe, I see you’re at the convenience store. Can you grab me a tampon and some sweets?" you called him, feeling curious after checking his location and noticing he was near her apartment.

“Yeah, I’m actually about to head over to see you and pick up your monthly essentials,” he replied smoothly.

"Babe, are you near the snack aisle? Could you grab me some chips, too?"

"Alright, love. Anything else?" he asked with a smile in his voice.

"A milkshake, please? Hehe."

"Snacks and a milkshake coming right up," he said, humoring your request.

“Wait, you’re at Kimbap Heaven? Can you swing by the pet shop two doors down? Kiwi hasn’t been eating her regular dry food!” you called after you found out he was out around Hongdae.

"Send me a list of everything you want me to grab, and I’ll get it done," he said, always efficient and patient.

You smiled, feeling so lucky to have someone who knew how to make even the smallest errands feel like an act of love.

As the days went by, you found yourself checking Vernon's location more and more. It became almost a habit. Whenever you craved something or needed him to pick up something, you'd open the app, locate him, and call him with your requests.

One evening, you were lying on the couch when you checked the app and noticed Vernon was at the grocery store. Without hesitation, you grabbed your phone and dialed him.

“Babe, can you pick up some ice cream? And maybe a few packs of those cookies I love?” you asked casually.

“Already got the cookies in the cart, but I’ll grab the ice cream for you now,” he replied, used to your requests by this point.

A few days later, you noticed him at the mall. Your mind immediately went to that cute hoodie you’d been eyeing. You picked up the phone again.

“Hey, babe, I see you’re at the mall. Could you stop by that clothing store and see if they have the hoodie I wanted in stock?”

“Sure, love. I’m already near that area. I’ll check it out.”

It became a little routine—wherever Vernon went, you’d check his location and call him to ask for favors. He never complained, always happy to run the errands or pick up whatever you needed. You loved how he made you feel so taken care of, and he seemed to enjoy it too, never missing a beat.

"Where is he?" you muttered, surprised when you couldn’t find Vernon’s location on the app. His profile was completely offline, leaving only yours visible on the map. You had texted him earlier, letting him know you’d be out with a friend, but that was over three hours ago, and he still hadn’t replied.

You didn’t want to call him. After all, you’d been asking for his help a lot through the location app lately. Maybe he had turned it off intentionally because he was busy, you thought, trying not to overthink it.

Just as you were about to distract yourself, the sound of your door unlocking caught your attention. Kiwi, your cat, sprinted toward the door, her sixth sense alerting her that only one person could be invading her territory—Vernon. Sure enough, he stepped in, holding Kiwi in one arm and a paper bag from your favorite bakery in the other.

You let out a squeal of excitement. "How did you know I wanted this?" you exclaimed, rushing over to grab the bag from his hands.

Vernon smiled warmly. "I saw your Instagram story where you said you missed the cake. I checked around and found a branch that still had some, so I picked one up for you."

Your heart melted on the spot. In a fit of affection, you scooped Kiwi from his arms and said, “Kiwi, listen carefully—Chwe Vernon is your only father. If anyone else claims they’re your dad, they’re lying!”

Vernon burst out laughing at your playful words, but then your mind drifted back to his location being turned off. Your smile faded into a pout as you looked at him.

“I couldn’t see your location today,” you told him, a little hint of disappointment in your voice.

“Ah, yeah, I turned it off,” he replied casually. “Why?”

“If I’d known you were on your way here, I would’ve asked you to grab some tissues,” you said, half-jokingly.

Vernon chuckled. "Tissues? I actually got you some in the car, i accidentally left them. I figured you were running low, so I picked some up yesterday."

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Really? Thank you! You always think of everything.”

He smiled softly, stepping closer. “Honestly, I like surprising you like this, getting what you need or want before you ask. That’s why I turned off my location today. It feels more special.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling even more grateful for his thoughtful nature. He always managed to find ways to care for you in his own quiet, yet deeply meaningful, way.

"You want to get married, babe?" you asked playfully, your voice full of gratitude as you grinned up at Vernon. He let out a laugh, clearly amused by your sudden question.

“You want to marry me because of this?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Of course!” you exclaimed, holding up the bakery bag. “This is amazing! You shouldn’t underestimate your thoughtfulness and how considerate you are. It’s everything I could want.”

He chuckled again, shaking his head. “Alright, then,” he said, leaning in closer with a mischievous smile. “Let’s get married.”

Your heart fluttered, and for a moment, you both stood there, the playful banter hanging in the air. But behind the jokes, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of what he’d just said linger, making the moment even sweeter.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dear Y/n

The words I have written before this line, and any I will write after it, may never come close to describing what I feel in the depths of my heart for you. Every moment I think of you is a moment of joy, and every moment you shine your light toward me is a moment of pleasure I treasure. You are truly beautiful, N, and I am thankful for your grace and attention to me. Your very presence brings me so much joy.

I’ll say this for now. My love for you burns brighter than a thousand stars. It leaves a burning ache in my chest. I want you more than anything. More than life itself. You have a way about you that is simply… incredible. You always know exactly what to say to cheer me up. I’ve never been able to find a better companion. Your laughter is soothing… and contagious. It fills my heart with so much joy that I can barely breathe, and the laughter flows out of me naturally as well. Your smile is like an angel's. It fills me with so many feelings I can’t even begin to describe them all. Simply being alive when you are around, is a blessing.

You are… the light of my world. You take my breath away, each and every time I see you. There is not another like you in all of the Seven Kingdoms. As sweet and kind and beautiful as you are, I do not deserve to have you in my life. Yet nonetheless, you stay with me. And I am forever thankful. I have come to love you my darling. I hope you will return the sentiment. I have come to care for you deeply, perhaps even more deeply than my own life. I hope you will do me the honor of allowing me to join our houses and join me in my reign as we rule together, in bliss and in love.

My love the first time I laid my eyes on you, I knew that our fates were interwoven as if they were one. You were like no beauty I have ever seen before. You captivate my every thought and every waking hour. If you will have me, I would propose to you, under a field of wildflowers and beneath the shade of a great oak tree, and I will give you every ounce of my love, every ounce of my soul, for all eternity. You grace this world like the sun graces a cold winter morning. Your very presence fills me with warmth. Your eyes draw me in like the night sky. They are like gems reflecting the light of the moon and the stars. From the first day we met, I was enchanted by your charm and wit. I feel like I could look into your eyes for days on end. If this was the only time I ever saw you, I could die a happy man. I would gladly fight a score of foes and conquer a hundred castles to bring you just the smallest token of my affection.

You are beautiful. The kind of beautiful that leaves no eye able to look away, no heart that won’t beat at the mere mention of your name, no lips that won’t form a smile when you look at them. For you could look at the stars or the heavens itself, and find them lacking in comparison to your beauty. You are the love that binds the Seven Kingdoms together. I would give everything I have just to be with you. I love you.

My dear Y/n, I love you more than life itself. You fill my day with joy and my nights with hope. Your hair smells like summer, your laughter is infectious and your eyes shine like diamonds whenever I look into them. I cannot even begin to attempt to put all the love I feel for your into these words. You are my sun and the stars in the sky, my love, and I hope you are happy to know that I could have never imagined how wonderful life would have been with you. I love you. So much.

I am in love with you. Deeply and truly in love. I would do anything for you, and I would go to the end of the world and back, just to see your face. You fill my life with warmth and love and I don't know what I would do without you. My love for you is endless, and my loyalty to you is unbreakable. I will always love you and I will always be yours. You are more valuable to me than the iron throne. You’re more valuable than the Seven Kingdoms. To me, you’re more valuable than anything in the world. You are my everything, my love. Without you, I am nothing. I don’t know how to explain it. But you are my person. You bring color to my world. You bring love to my heart I hope you know that.

You are the greatest gift I could ever have. That I get to wake up and see your beautiful eyes every day for the rest of my life, that I will get to see all of our future children grow up around me fills me with a feeling of fulfillment that I have never known before. Being with you is the greatest gift in the world, my love. I love you for all your wonderful qualities. You are generous and kind and forgiving. You are a joy to be around, and you make me feel so happy and comfortable. I love you for your wit and humor, and the way you make me laugh. I love you for the way you make me feel special and loved. I love you for all the little things that make you who you are, and I love you for being my own beautiful and loving queen. I cherish you for all you are. 

The way you speak captivates me and so does your voice. The tone of your voice has a way about it that makes me feel as if I want to stay around forever so that I can hear it. Your voice is like music. It is so sweet and so soothing. It makes me feel as if I would like nothing more than to sing your praises. You are truly as beautiful as you are interesting. To know you is a joy that I am grateful for. If I were to tell you every little thing I love about you we would be here all damn night. Every moment, I think of you. You fill up my every thought, and fill up every dream that I have. You are everything my love, you are the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I love you with an intensity that has never and will never be matched. Every single day, every moment, every minute that we spend together is so special to me.

-Aemond Targaryen

[tar-maitime]

broken branches

Rating: T Characters: Fingon | Findekano, Maedhros | Maitimo Relationships: Maedhros/Fingon, fem!Maedhros/Fingon Additional: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Thangorodrim, Infertility

Fingon doesn’t know what’s going on.

Maedhros can bear most touch now. She accepts affection from her brothers, and touch from him if it is purely practical. She even lets the healers handle her without flinching. But as soon as he tries any kind of affection, even the smallest amount, in word or deed, she withdraws from him, pulling protectively into herself. And he doesn’t know why.

Oh, he has plenty of guesses, each more terrible than the last. They have so little understanding of anything like what Maedhros went through, of what it could do to a person. The only theories Fingon can dismiss with any kind of certainty are ones where she has somehow stopped loving him - he can feel in their marriage bond, much abused though it is, that she does. But she is keeping it, and her self, as far and separate from him as she can with her mental walls in the state they’re in.

Fingon has no clue what to do. But he’s not going to just let his wife slip away from him without a fight, not when he’s just gotten her back, and so he keeps trying. It’s what he always does. It’s all he can do.

He sits down beside Maedhros’ bed, plate of food in hand, and gently tucks a strand of chopped-short hair behind her ear. “Are you hungry, meldanya?” he asks quietly.

She twitches away from his touch. “Don’t,” she mutters. “Don’t call me that.”

“What would you prefer for me to call you, then?” Fingon asks with all the equanimity he can muster.

Maedhros won’t meet his eyes. “Not your love,” she says. “Not yours. You should have good things, not - not something damaged.”

“You are not a thing,” Fingon states firmly. “You’re not, Russë. You are my wife, and I love you, and your scars and wounds only matter as tokens of what you have survived to come back to me.”

Maedhros laughs, a scraping and bitter sound. “If only the scars were all! Not that that would not be enough to go on with. But no.” She reaches out suddenly and grips Fingon’s hand in hers, pressing it to a place low on her belly. He remembers seeing a great deal of scarring there, but had not thought anything of it in particular, not when confronted with so many injuries everywhere.

“I can’t bear children,” she hisses. “He took it from me, the lieutenant, damaged me so thoroughly there that I could never beget a child. I will spare you the details, but I assure you he outlined them thoroughly to me. It was early on, when I still had some slim hope I would get out, and he delighted in spoiling that, even though he never intended it to matter in the end.”

Fingon is unable to speak through the hundreds of shades of emotions coursing through him. He remembers, abruptly, Maedhros curled next to him not long after their wedding, talking of the many children she wanted to have once all the trouble had died down and her father’s banishment lifted. He had not thought about that in a long time; those were not the kind of plans that belonged on the ice.

“I am so, so sorry that happened to you,” he finally manages. “So sorry, Russë - but why in all Ea would you think I would cast you aside for that? How have you come by the impression that I only love and value you as a vessel for children?”

Maedhros ducks her head. “You don’t, Finno, of course you don’t,” she murmurs. “I know you’d still want me, but...you wanted children. We talked of it, in Valinor, would have planned a begetting if...and now we can’t have that. Finno, we can’t, and we wanted it so much.”

She folds in on herself, and Fingon moves before he can think, to sit beside her on the bed and hold her. For the first time since she gained full awareness, she doesn’t pull away, but turns further into him, weeping into his chest and shaking. He curls around her and presses his lips to her hair, letting his own tears fall even as he does his best to soothe her.

“Ssh, oh Russë, oh love, it’s all right, it’ll be all right. We’ll get through this.” And now more than ever, he’s going to help her one day eviscerate Morgoth’s lieutenant, but this isn’t the time to discuss that.

“I should let you go,” Maedhros whispers moments later. “Let you be with someone you can still have that with.”

Fingon tightens his arms around her just slightly. “You are my wife. We are married,” he reminds her. “There is no letting go here.”

“There could be.” Maedhros shifts to look up at him. “There was for Grandfather.”

A shudder runs through Fingon’s whole body before he’s even finished processing the words. “No,” he decrees, and runs his fingers up and down her back, as if that alone will keep her here with him. “There could never be anyone else for me, Russë. I am not Finwë; my choices could never be his. And you are not Miriel - your spirit burns too bright and strong for that. You can endure this, and I will help you, and we will manage together. And I will keep on loving you no matter what dreams of ours get left behind on the way.”

Maedhros shivers in his arms, but presses closer. For the first time in over thirty years, their marriage bond opens fully, and Fingon feels her grief and anger and pain wash over him. He lets her see into him, too, his own shock and sorrow and rage and above it all, his love for her.

They sit there like that for a long time, not moving, not talking really, just bearing the hurt together and continuing to breathe.

[polteergeistt]

heyyy just wondering, how did you all make friends here on tumblr with other sleep token fan accounts? like how did you get to talking?

We started by interacting in tags and stuff and we became mutuals so we became familiar to each other and because this fandom is so full of love we just shared love and appreciation for fanarts and such and also we put little presents in each other's askboxes. Then (bc fuck it we ball) we started sharing the love we want and making it more direct and targeted and bolder. There have been many times when I felt anxious about posting something and sending an ask but in the end I always got lovely reactions. And I never disliked any ask in anyway. Sharing love through the internet is easier and more difficult than irl at the same time, but the smallest gesture is always appreciated greatly, be it a quick doodle, a short fic or a few words of affection.

We basically bonded over a common interest and we also happen to be incredibly starved of affection and yearning so we loved each other. That's how I see it.

This is the first time in my many years on the internet where I got actual friends and found a group of people I genuinely belonged to. They are like a family to me. I suck ass at social interactions, even more at making friends and keeping those friendships, but now it's been months and we are going stronger and I'm incredibly grateful for that. In all honesty, this was very unexpected and unplanned. It simply happened, and I wouldn't change anything to what we already have.

And that's how I met your mother.

(Also as for me I almost never chat through dm bc i suck at that too but there is a discord server for the sleep token fandom and I assume ppl are talking over there and I suppose it's the same for them as it was for me)

[unhingedlesbear]

Wanted to draw all my werewolf designs I've used over the years and I accidentally ended up making another TDIM au whoops.

So over the years I've had 4 werewolves I'd default to and all of them had slightly varying lore. So now I've just assigned a TDIM character to each of them. So here's just a massive lore dump on all my werewolves.

MAJOR WEREWOLF LORE DUMP BELOW IM SO SORRY GUYSSS

Mark - Werewolf 1. My current/fav werewolf type. Can be both bipedal and quadruped. Their front paws are more hand like with their back paws being more paw like. These werewolves, mentally are more human like but can snap unpredictably at times. They do eat humans and can't eat anything else, but are generally not as violent as some of the other werewolf types. They have sharp upper and lower fangs that stick out, and no back teeth. Due to this they often just swallow food like snakes, but can also use their fangs to bite people which, if done on a full moon can infect another person. These werewolves are also the biggest of them all. To these werewolves, Silver and wolfsbane are both weaknesses.

Kate - Werewolf 2. Usually more bipedal but can be quadruped at times. They are generally furless except for a long mane and tail, as well as some fur where humans generally have body hair. These werewolves are the most dangerous as when in their werewolf forms they are almost entirely animalistic mentally, and extremely aggressive. They eat humans and animals alike. They have an extremely strong bite force and can snap through strong materials with little issue. They also have no lips, their teeth exposed at all times. Silver and wolfsbane are both weaknesses to these werewolves.

Erin - Werewolf 3. Usually bipedal but run on all fours. These are the smallest of the werewolf types, but are one of the more aggressive types, second only to type 2. These werewolves mostly just look like taller, lanky, bipedal wolves. They have very sharp claws and large front paws/hands. These werewolves are also extremely fast. They prefer to eat humans but can eat other animals too. Mentally, they're more intelligent than type 2 but less so than types 1 and 4. They're aggressive and violent by default but can also recognize familiar people and are generally intelligent even when turned. The full moon doesn't affect these werewolves, they simply turn whenever they become overly angry or upset, and sometimes even by choice. Silver is a weakness to these werewolves but wolfsbane is tolerated.

Jamie - Werewolf 4. Entirely quadruped. These werewolves mostly just resemble giant wolves. They're the second largest of all the werewolf types, only slightly smaller than type 1. These werewolves are also the most intelligent and mentally humanoid, having control over themselves almost all the time except for on full moons where they do become aggressive and hunt people. These are the only kind that can eat things that aren't meat, generally considered omnivores. Despite all this, they are still extremely dangerous due to their size and strength as well as their intelligence. Silver is a weakness to these werewolves but wolfsbane is a cure that can even reverse the effects of silver.

No Charlie sadly, not enough different werewolves ugh... he's once again the token human. Poor guy.

[ladamedemartel]

@lordofthestrix continued from here: ( x )

"You cannot." The confirmation sang of aligned stars and ferocious zeal. "Understand, Aurora. I would lay down my life for yours without hesitation or regret. Only for yours. But I will not welcome a half life nor condone one for you out of cowardice. Let his progeny forever flee from one sinking ship to the next like vermin. I will give us rapture where they only know survival." A promise to keep. "The Destroyer at the gates of the city. And a legion of crusaders at his command." Absorbed in thought for a moment and against all odds, Tristan curved his lips into a brumal smirk. "I am going to triumph." It was shared with the hues of a secret. As if to ease Aurora into seeing what he now saw with tenacious clarity. "I cannot end his life. Not yet. That much is true. But I plan for me and those who stand at my side to offer Mikael an agonizing wonder his children never could." Gelid poison and appetite for devastation pleasantly reached his voice without apology. "We know him well enough by now, do we not? In his own twisted way he is at his core a warrior. We are a fanciful detail to him. If he still hunts for our lives here and there it is only inspired by a wounded pride caused by being made a fool with our unwilling masquerade. He has truer prey to chase after. And as I ride to war I vow to you, my love...I will extinguish all desire he could possibly harbor to ever encounter us again." He extended in his eyes unmovable, passionate reassurance. "Gales of change have been unmerciful to us in the past. But this Rory...This will be my tempest." His lips greeted her forehead in immeasurable closeness but unwilling to give the smallest sign that could lead her to interpret the gesture as a farewell. "Go. Be safe. My heart cannot be ravaged while you keep it. I know those Elijah left behind have not earned your affection yet. There will be time for that. There will be time for everything for the eternity to arrive is ours. The next time we see each other I will gift you a world where you will never have reason to fear his shadow at your back. Do not fear for me. If you cannot trust my cunning designs for the occasion, and I assure you they are my most inspired work yet, then leave to me a token of yours. Something to return along with news of the victory." He suggested in an offer of complicit devilment. "My beloved Lady de Martel. Would you grant me your favour for the battle ahead?"

Aurora frowned at his response. No, he was supposed to tell her that he would remain behind if she bid him. Aurora knew that she had the power to keep him if she truly wished it. She could dig her hand into her wrist and pull out vein and bone until he stopped her. He wouldn't dare to leave her alone if she were to break her bedside table and threaten to force a splinter through her heart if he dared to continue this nonsense. He owed those people nothing. He owed them nothing and yet he was putting himself at risk for them. He was putting her at risk for them. Mikael could not be stopped, but Tristan and the others could have been. That was why Elijah had undoubtedly left them behind. Oh how she loathed that she was forced to concede the point of logic to Elijah. Tristan was leaving her and forcing her to side with Elijah. Would his crimes against her that evening have any end?

Still, Tristan sounded so confident. There was a fire in his eyes that she had not seen in some time. He wanted this. These people. She could torment him for that. She could. She could summon tears to her eyes and whimper about why she was not enough. Unfortunately, that was a weapon that she did not much fancy using, especially on him. He could easily turn the blade etched with Niklaus on its hilt toward her in the face to any demand that she made that he prove to her that he would not leave her. Aurora did not care to pick at that scar tonight lest it prove to be less healed than she thought for both of them.

Besides, Tristan had already started to dangle a blade of his own. Did she not trust him to have planned this? Did she not trust him to have thought this through? Did she not trust him?

Aurora hated all of it. She loathed being put in this position, a position where she would not get her way.

"If circumstances change and Mikael proves more cunning than anticipated, or has some-" Aurora did not know what word to use. Mikael had already surprised them once when they had learned that wood would not kill him as it could have killed them. More surprises could lurk around the corner. "I care not for those people. Abandon them if you must. Mikael will slaughter them all before there can be any whisper of you being a coward."

With clear reluctance, Aurora pulled the ribbon that tied her hair and offered it to him. "I have never known a moment on this earth without you; see to it that that does not change."

[zhangsanhzgb]

The news covers a wide range of aspects, from the adjustment of the Federal Reserve's expectations for rate cuts, to the launch of new contracts on cryptocurrency exchanges, to the financial situation of the Ethereum Foundation, as well as some industry trends and investment and financing news.

1. **Expectations of Fed rate cuts**: According to the latest CME "Fed Watch" data, the probability of the Fed cutting interest rates by 25 basis points in September has decreased from 57% to 55%, while the probability of a 50 basis point cut has increased from 43% to 45%. This shows that the market is divided on the Fed's upcoming rate cuts, and some market participants expect more rate cuts in the coming months.

2. **Binance launches new contract**: Binance announced that it will launch DOGSUSD COIN-M perpetual contract on September 10, supporting up to 20x leverage. This move shows that Binance continues to expand its contract products to meet market demand.

3. **Funding status of Ethereum Foundation**: In the latest AMA, Justin Drake, a core researcher of Ethereum Foundation, said that the Foundation’s fund reserves can cover the budget for the next 10 years, with the main sources of funds being grants and salaries. The current fund reserves are greatly affected by ETH price fluctuations, but overall, the financial status of the Ethereum Foundation is relatively stable.

4. **ADP employment data**: U.S. ADP data for August showed that employment increased by 99,000, the smallest increase since the beginning of 2021, indicating that the labor market is slowing down. This data increased expectations that the Federal Reserve may cut interest rates.

5. **DOGS airdrop data**: The DOGS project distributed 40 billion tokens to more than 2.5 million people in 48 hours, which shows the wide participation and influence of the project.

6. **Investment and Financing Dynamics**: For example, E-PAL completed a $30 million financing, Onocoy Association completed a $940,000 financing, and Gate Ventures made a strategic investment in the Japanese Web3 game company double jump.tokyo. These capital inflows show the market's continued interest and support for blockchain and Web3 projects.

These news cover economic policies, cryptocurrency markets, investment and financing, and project dynamics, showing that in an uncertain global economic environment, market participants and investors are adjusting their strategies and paying close attention to changes in macroeconomic data and cryptocurrency markets.

How to buy ETH 

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How to exchange USDT with a credit card and then convert it to ETH 

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[sulkinginsheetsofsatin]

My soul is a pin cushion. Pricked with every experience. Sharp edges fill my insides while the outside stays soft and plump. Unassuming.

My soul is sensitive. It feels every drop of lingering emotions. It feels every inch of change. It swells at the smallest token of affection and shrivels with no attention. Every words scars or heals. Every word matters to it. Dependant.

My soul is breaking. Years have chipped away the edges. It's become small and smooth. It's become less of itself to survive. Easier to play with and toss around. Pliable.

These qualities aren't made to endure the real world. This soul of mine was made to shatter. The destiny promised to me is one of picking up my own pieces when my soul has had enough. Pick it up. Pick it up. Pick it up.

Piece by piece by piece.

[lordofthestrix]

‘i’m not here to stop you. everything in my blood screams at me to, but I know I can’t.’

"You cannot." The confirmation sang of aligned stars and ferocious zeal. "Understand, Aurora. I would lay down my life for yours without hesitation or regret. Only for yours. But I will not welcome a half life nor condone one for you out of cowardice. Let his progeny forever flee from one sinking ship to the next like vermin. I will give us rapture where they only know survival." A promise to keep. "The Destroyer at the gates of the city. And a legion of crusaders at his command." Absorbed in thought for a moment and against all odds, Tristan curved his lips into a brumal smirk. "I am going to triumph." It was shared with the hues of a secret. As if to ease Aurora into seeing what he now saw with tenacious clarity. "I cannot end his life. Not yet. That much is true. But I plan for me and those who stand at my side to offer Mikael an agonizing wonder his children never could." Gelid poison and appetite for devastation pleasantly reached his voice without apology. "We know him well enough by now, do we not? In his own twisted way he is at his core a warrior. We are a fanciful detail to him. If he still hunts for our lives here and there it is only inspired by a wounded pride caused by being made a fool with our unwilling masquerade. He has truer prey to chase after. And as I ride to war I vow to you, my love...I will extinguish all desire he could possibly harbor to ever encounter us again." He extended in his eyes unmovable, passionate reassurance. "Gales of change have been unmerciful to us in the past. But this Rory...This will be my tempest." His lips greeted her forehead in immeasurable closeness but unwilling to give the smallest sign that could lead her to interpret the gesture as a farewell. "Go. Be safe. My heart cannot be ravaged while you keep it. I know those Elijah left behind have not earned your affection yet. There will be time for that. There will be time for everything for the eternity to arrive is ours. The next time we see each other I will gift you a world where you will never have reason to fear his shadow at your back. Do not fear for me. If you cannot trust my cunning designs for the occasion, and I assure you they are my most inspired work yet, then leave to me a token of yours. Something to return along with news of the victory." He suggested in an offer of complicit devilment. "My beloved Lady de Martel. Would you grant me your favour for the battle ahead?"

@ladamedemartel

[fatechica]

dance with me (make me sway) - A 2-Year Celebration

It occurred to me a few weeks ago that I was coming up on my two year anniversary in the Mileven fandom - two years to the day since I posted the first chapter of “love you like a love song” - and, when I realized it, I wanted to commemorate it.

The last two years have been an amazing, wild ride. I’ve become a part of a fandom in ways I never have before, I’ve made friends who I know will be with me the rest of my life, and I’ve been happier than I think I may have ever been before, my life fulfilled and enriched in ways I never imagined.

To say that becoming part of the Stranger Things fandom was one of the best things that I’ve ever done would be the biggest understatement ever. You all make my life better and I’m glad to be part of one of the most wonderful groups of people I’ve ever had the privilege of being part of.

To thank you all for letting me be part of this crazy ride, this is for you. This is to all the people who’ve become my friends over the past couple of years, those who have come and gone, those who are still here, and those who are yet to come.

To that end, there are a relative handful of people I wanted to tag: @formerlyjannafaye @milevens @el-borealis @milesfairchild @dustinhendrsn @stevehharrington @elshopper @elhoppers @martygalwrites @dustinsteves @mikewheeler @summer-in-hawkins @serendipitousrambles @milevenhearteyes @elizabthturner @girls-are-weird @thief-and-dragonfly @maplestreet @lovelysheree

I know I’m missing someone, but you all are people I call amongst my closest friends, people I’m proud to say I know and love. Thank you for making all of this something I could never, ever regret.

To that end, I’ve written something I’ve been wanting to write for a while, something that encapsulates so many of my feelings.

(and, for the gc ladies, i’ve written my mileven dancing fic. you check me off the list, now, and you’re welcome.)

Every day feels like he’s living a dream, one he never wants to wake up from. He knows it’s not a dream, though. It took too much hard work to get here – too much blood and sweat and tears, too much back and forth, coming together before being pulled apart, repeating this what felt like over and over again. 

But they’re here now – they made it – and he never has to dream ever again. Because, every day, he wakes up to his dream. Because, every day, he wakes up and goes about his day and comes home to his wife. 

Because every day, Mike comes home to El.

It’s not perfect. Nothing is, after all. Both Mike and El are headstrong, passionate individuals and sometimes things get heated, intense in the wrong way. But the love they feel for each other smooths out all those speed bumps and, more often than not, helps them channel their stronger impulses into something positive. It helps them love each other just that much more, helps them love each other each and every day. 

There’s nothing special about today except that every day Mike spends with El is special, each one better than the last. Each time, he thinks this is it, I can’t be any more in love with her than I am right now. And every. single. day. he falls just that much more in love with El, falls in love with her all over again. 

It’s almost never something big that makes him realize this – the way she smiles at him when he greets her after he gets home, the way she laces her fingers through his as they head up to bed at the end of the evening, the way she laughs and talks and just exists with him. 

Tonight, it’s the way she’s standing at the sink while she does the dishes. He cooked tonight, so by the agreement they came to when they moved in together several years ago, it’s her turn to do the dishes. 

El’s standing at the sink, weight mostly resting on one leg, hair up in a loose bun with wisps falling to frame her face and neck. She’s wearing a loose sweater, neckline slipping down to expose the smooth curve of one shoulder, and a pair of leggings that skim tight to the lines of her legs. One bare foot is firmly planted on the ground, while the other is propped against it, heel resting on her ankle, foot arched almost sensually. 

But, the thing that Mike notices most of all as he walks into the kitchen, the last of the dinner dishes in hand, is the way El is swaying to the music that’s playing. 

El always has the music playing while she does the dishes and today is no exception. Today’s selection is from the local Oldies radio station, airwaves filling the kitchen with the sounds of Big Band and jazz and the Rat Pack. 

The rich sounds of Frank Sinatra are starting to fade out, Mike recognizing the final notes of “Fly Me To The Moon”, as he sets the last couple plates on the counter next to El. Her proximity calls to him with its sweet, siren’s song and Mike’s barely able to set the dishes down before his arms are reaching for her, sliding around her waist as he pulls her to him, body molding to hers. He buries his face against her neck and breathes in the sweet scent of her. The feel of her skin against his is the one of the greatest rushes known to man and he’s like a drug addict, forever chasing the high that he can only get from her. 

El leans back against him, back curving to mirror the lean of his body. “Hi,” she breathes just loud enough to be heard over the running water. 

The feel of El in his arms is the cure for pretty much everything, even if nothing is wrong, and Mike finds himself burrowing deeper into her, holding her tight. He never wants to let her go. “Hi,” he murmurs against El’s neck, head rotating so he can press a lingering kiss on the skin right beneath her jaw.

El shivers at the press of his lips and Mike tries to hold back the grin that threatens to creep onto his face. She’s so responsive – always has been – and it makes him a little eager, impatient, to eventually move upstairs to their bedroom. All things in due time, he thinks as El breathes in deeply. “I’m trying to do the dishes,” she says in weak admonishment. 

“I can see that,” Mike says, losing the battle against keeping the grin off his face. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

El’s breath leaves her in a huffed sigh. “You’re gonna, anyway,” she mumbles. 

That pulls a laugh from him, low and husky, and Mike starts to sway with the music that surrounds them, emanating from the old radio perched on the windowsill above the sink. “You know me too well,” Mike says, still barely above a murmur. 

“Well, it’s only been 11 years,” El says with a barely contained snort. 

“Hmm, good point,” Mike says as he nuzzles into her neck, breathing her in deep, lungs filling with the lingering scent of her perfume, mixing potently with the remaining hints of her shampoo and something that is just so fundamentally El, soft and addicting. He’s been trying for years to figure out what it is and he knows he’s going to spend the rest of his life trying to crack that particular mystery (it doesn’t matter if he succeeds – not at all. All that matters is that she’s here for him to try and solve it.).

The song on the radio changes, starting with a simple piano intro, and Mike’s heart skips a beat as he recognizes the song. His arms untangle from around El’s waist, hands sliding to her hips to pull her away from the sink, soft need filling every inch of him. 

El lets him pull her away from the sink, but not without a soft whine in the process. “Mike, the dishes.”

“They’re not going anywhere,” Mike rasps, a chuckle in his voice. “Dance with me.” 

El sighs, but he knows he has her as she takes his hand, the other sliding up to curve over his shoulder. “Mike,” she admonishes, but it lacks true strength. This isn’t the first time Mike’s done this and it certainly won’t be the last. 

El’s hand in his is warm and wet from the water still trickling into the sink, a little slippery from the dish soap, but Mike thinks it’s perfect as Elvis’ voice begins to croon from the radio. “Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you….”

The look in El’s eyes is warm and rich, amber-flecked irises darting back and forth as her gaze dances across his face. Her cheeks are gently flushed, suffusing the light tan of her skin with the prettiest pink Mike’s ever seen, and her perfect, richly full lips are curved in an enticing smile. God, Mike doesn’t know how he got so lucky. He wonders this every day and he’s never been able to figure it out. The only thing he can chalk it up to is the only streak of luck he’s ever had in his entire life. 

(he doesn’t know this, not really, but it’s not luck. el knows it’s because he was the first person who never judged her, the first person who gave her a home and a name and a place to belong, the only person who’s ever really understood her. it’s a gift she can never, ever repay and she will spend the rest of her life making sure he knows how much she loves him for the simple, yet overwhelming kindness he’s given her.)

But, for the moment, there’s just them, the warm light of their kitchen, and the dulcet, crooning tones of Elvis’ “Can’t Help Falling In Love With You” as they sway back and forth in the middle of their kitchen. El’s warm in his arms, smiling up at him like he’s all she’ll ever need, and Mike’s heart resumes its daily attempt to beat its way out of his chest. The feel of her in his arms is everything, more than he could have ever imagined, more than he ever could have hoped for, and he will forever be grateful to have her in his life, to have her with him.

“Take my hand, take my whole life too,” comes the voice from the radio and Mike can’t help but be hyper aware of El’s hand in his, the smooth metal of her wedding band digging into where their fingers are interlaced, a poignant reminder of the promise they made to each other, ‘til death do they part, as long as they both shall live – the way it’s been since he first found her in the rain, even if he didn’t know it at the time. 

He’s leaning towards her before he’s even fully aware that he’s doing it, drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unable to care that he’s permanently and irreversibly caught in her gravity well with no exit velocity. But it’s ok because El’s leaning up towards him, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss that sets his whole soul aflame. Her lips are soft against his, soft and lush and full, like heaven against his. Her kiss is the only one Mike’s ever known and he never wants to know any other for the rest of his life. 

The sound of El’s whimpering gasp as he kisses her sends a warm shiver down his spine, heat pooling low in his belly, and Mike kisses El that much harder, the eternal love and desire he feels for her needing an outlet, one his mouth is more than eager to provide. She kisses him back, lips soft yet firm against his, and Mike’s soul just soars. Every time he kisses her is a little like the first time, pulse racing and skin thrumming, and Mike realizes, as he has every day of his life, that El is the only person for him, the only one he wants for as long as he lives. 

And he’ll never, ever regret it. 

They stand there, kissing in the kitchen as they sway to the radio, bodies pressed against each other like they were meant to fit together. Soon, El will shut off the water and take both of Mike’s hands in hers before guiding him towards the stairs, dishes forgotten as they get swept up in each other. 

But, right now, there’s just them, the gentle music that surrounds them, and the overwhelming love they share for each other. 

For the moment, in this endless moment full of nothing but the love they share for each other, it’s enough. 

And it always, always will be. 

[sweetdreamsbuck]

Fluffy thought:

Imagine trying to carve something out of wood as a gift for our beloved lumberjack. I'm sure his heart would absolutely melt at the sight of your shitty little creation, but he'd also be devastated when he saw the band-aid on your thumb from a rogue slice and need to kiss it better. :,)

Home

beefy lumberjack!bucky x f!reader

wc: 3.7k

warnings: annoyingly sweet fluff. mention of blood. a lot of suggestive language, nothing explicit except for a million kisses and some playful biting and pinching. (this is in the lumby and bunny au) nicknames bunny, sweet girl, good girl. lots of teasing and lots of love. bucky comforting reader's anxiety and injury. he's ridiculous and dramatic and he LOVES his bunny

a/n: this is a work of insanity. i need to be stopped. this is absolutely absurd and absolutely is a clear look at my mental instability the last few weeks. i need my lumby to make it all better <3 not edited and unfortunately all mistakes are my own

i do not give permission to translate, copy, or share any of my work

A small, unfinished model of Bucky’s cabin sitting on the kitchen table stared back at you; uneven sides and lopsided roof mocking you in its imperfection.

Bucky’s hands would never touch something so terrible.

The tears of frustration welling in your eyes since the first time the bulky knife slipped from your hand were now silently making their way down the sides of your face.

Grabbing the wood and the smallest carving knife, you attempt to finish mimicking the perfect shingles Bucky had delicately dressed his cabin roof in.

It was now the fifth fumble.

The wood was too clumsy between your shaky hands, the knives meant to smoothly pierce through the limewood all too foreign and ill-fitted for your hold.

Bucky made his carving hobby look so easy.

Tears were now clouding your vision; anger and frustration with your skill and this incapability of showing Bucky a small gesture of your love rendering you hot with emotion. Your fogged vision would hardly grant a saving moment of grace to see that your grip on the knife was too far down, too close to the sharp edge of the blade.

One last frustrating bout of rage was all it took– the knife slipped, piercing the sensitive skin between your thumb and pointer. The pain hardly affected you– your nerves were stunned from anger and the blood immediately rushed to find the source of the throbbing discomfort– but it was truly the last sign from the universe assuring you just how idiotic of an idea this was that sent your emotions flying.

Bucky could never deserve something as pitiful as this messy mockery of his talent and devotion. Bucky was too good for you.

How was something so below amateur going to afford any semblance of gratitude for this life Bucky has shown you? How was this shitty token of your love deserving of the man who gave you everything and more? Did he even know you loved him?

As a defeated shit fell from your lips so did the offending blade and mini-cabin, tumbling to the floor of the kitchen. You watch a small trail of blood trickle down your palm and onto the tile beneath your feet, confirming the silent fear that you’d only ruin all the good Bucky brought into the universe. Your tears soon joined, mixing and trying to wash away the red tainting your tense and shaking fingers.

Quickly moving towards the sink to clean your hand, a hiss escapes your throat from the cool water stinging the affected area, gasps for air and sharp exhales battling for reprieve between frustrated hiccups. Once the blood seemed to slow in its haste, you move to the bathroom to find a couple of bandages to dress the wound.

A pretty cut that will leave a pretty scar to memorialize this pretty shitty day.

Weeks of pent-up anxiety and emotion seemed to have finally reached their boiling point, bubbling over the surface of this almost funny ridicule of your feelings; manifested with promise of hot tears, a lousy gift, and pain.

Pain of your new cut– pain of not being worthy of Bucky’s love.

In your frantic state, you hardly had time to process the sound of a key in the lock, the sound of Bucky’s distant “Bunny, I’m home!” followed by the swift click of the front door and a relieved sigh from your lumberjack.

He was home early.

“Where are you? Know I’m early, wanted to surprise you,” you hear his voice call out as he throws his keys somewhere in the living room, heavy boots and coat following. Your eyes snap up to find your distressed image in the bathroom mirror: the shock suddenly hitting you that if he walked a tiny bit further into his home, he’d find the ugliest cabin he’s ever seen in his life. The thought of your distressed state, a few droplets of blood, or of the bandaids dressing your hand is completely remiss from your concerns.

Forget the mess you are: he can not find that cabin.

Quickly finishing up the bandaids and wiping away your tears, you practice a forced smile, frantically moving to go greet him. “Hi baby, was just finishing up in the bathroom…” your voice calls without faltering, carrying you safely towards the living room. The sight of his towering form stops you dead in your tracks; your grimace quickly falling as you take in the soft flush covering his beaming face, the beautiful bouquet of flowers held by his massive hand, and the perfectly wrapped box peeking out from underneath his arm.

On a day you intended to shower him in love like he always did for you, there he was; smiling from ear to ear with a glisten swimming in his baby blues, ready to drown you in love and donning more gifts– blissfully unaware of just how undeserving you feel of the love he worships you with.

Tears immediately fill your eyes, the emotions hitting in full force like a rough kick to the gut. Your hands shakily move to cover your face in hopes of shielding your embarrassing outburst and stressful last few hours– weeks– from your perfect man.

Bucky’s smile falls comically fast, swiftly dropping the gifts and replacing them with your trembling form. You barely have a moment to breathe as his large hands pull you into the warmth of his chest and into the embrace of his soft lips caressing your skin. “Bun, what’s wrong? What happened? Was it something I…these are your favorite I thou–” the force of your briskly shaking head cuts him off. His hands move up and down the length of your back as he faintly rocks you from side to side.

“N-no Buck. They are. I love them, I just…” his lips softly kiss along your hands shielding your face, tracing along your knuckles until you shakily remove them. Bucky quickly brushes his nose against your forehead, his lips following to press the most delicate of kisses there. As his lips gently explore your forehead, a hum against your temple prompts you to continue your thought. “I just… you do so much for me. You always make me feel so loved. And I really wanted to make you something… something that means a lot, to me. And I couldn’t even manage to do that and then there you come, waltzing through the front door with more gifts and I, gosh, Bucky. I love you– so fucking much. I’m not used to someone caring about me and I just worry I don’t show you enough just how much I love you… I worry someone could love you better and I fear you might realize it and so I tried to make you this stupid wooden gift and–” the force of his lips against yours cuts off your manic rambling, his body crushing you in a grasp driven by all of his body weight and then some. His palms rush to cradle your face between them, forcibly angling your head so not even your body could try and deny the intensity of his intentions.

His lips moving against yours hungrily, animalistically, needing to show you just how wrong your anxious thoughts are. But your words stirred something in him– a pain he never knew could exist.

How could you think so little of yourself– of this love you shared?

The tormented confession of your fears causes a tear to roll down his cheek and a pained groan to rumble in his chest, fueling his desperation further while continuing to steal the air from your lungs and render you captive to his fervor.

When the room starts to feel like it’s spinning, he pulls you against him tighter, his hands dragging down your neck and back possessively, roughly moving to dig into the dips of your sides as his tongue ravishes you. Bucky pulls your head away from his once your body goes slack, completely melting into him and surrendering your breath.

His large hands tug your waist against him, his right hand sliding up to firmly hold your forehead to his while grasping the side of your neck feeling the fast flutter of your pulse under his palm.

As the air chokes to regenerate inside both of your lungs, he holds his eyes to yours, piercing you with a pointed sincerity Bucky has never quite shown you before. “I’ll deprive you, of all the oxygen in the world... before I let another thought like that cross your mind.”

A cry.

A promise.

A warning.

A plea of desperation.

His gruff voice wraps itself deep within your gut, chilling every last bone and nerve not already stunned from his kiss. “You are the only thing that matters to me. Feel how you almost passed out? That’s what I feel every day. Every morning; every time I get to come home to see you; every time you greet me near my shed; just now when you kissed me back. Still can’t believe you kiss me back bunny– every single time. Feel how fast you get my heart beating?” he asks, bringing your hand to his chest.

“Every damn time you blink those eyes at me I feel like I might fall over. Every time you smile at me your eyes do this thing and you have no idea... makes me feel like the most beautiful thing alive. Every time these fingers touch me…” he trails off, his eyes closing for a moment while a teasing shiver wraps up the bumps of his spine, causing him to clutch your hand tighter to his chest.

“You have no idea what your love does to me, how treasured you make me feel. There is no one– nothing, that can love me the way you do. Don’t ever let yourself doubt that for a second. I need you. I’ll lock you in this damn cabin for the rest of your life until you know how perfect your love is, okay?” he finishes with that smirk you love, a soft playfulness hidden behind the sincerity and plea of his words.

Bucky’s eyebrows raise expectantly, eyes searching yours for your understanding. Bringing your hand to his lips, he rubs circles into your waist while a bright smile spreads across your face.

A shocked nod of your head warms his body, watching reverently while the air still struggling to fill your lungs goes straight to your head, leaving you giddy and wide eyed in his hands.

Attacking your face with kisses, he wraps himself around your upper and lower back. “So I think something about a gift was mentioned…” he baits with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

A pained groan leaves your lips and you reluctantly pull away from his grip, moving towards the kitchen floor to grab the wooden carving. “I’m no expert, hell I’m no amateur either… but this cabin you’ve welcomed me into is the only place I’ve ever felt at peace in. And I wanted to make you something to show that… it’s really not good, tragic, actually. Is the best word for it. You make it look easy…” you trail off, his eyes rendering you speechless with the intensity of their unblinking adoration you’ve only ever known from them. “Here,” you whisper. Your nerves and anxious thoughts appear all too naked, all too comfortable creeping back in and holding your feet frozen to their spot on the floor.

If you ever doubted Bucky Barnes needed you, the way his enormous stature falls before you might just quell that fear. And if you weren’t so concerned with the thought of him hating your gift, maybe you would’ve seen it– would’ve seen a sparkling breath of awe overtake his features; the shiver of boyish joy that teased up his spine and sparked along his fingertips; the delighted tremble in the muscles of his cheeks as they worked overtime to keep from splitting in half at the elation of his newly ignited nerves.

All you can focus on is the way the small cabin looks, even more pitiful between his large hands. The sides and roof looking worse off cradled between the two things that have only ever made you feel nothing less than perfect– nothing less than loved.

His mouth opens and closes to say something, but air and language seem to escape him. The wood gets examined by his hands, by the soft tracing of the pads of his fingertips, by his awed and unwilling to close eyes, flipping it round and round and upside down until he finds a very messy engraving you managed to carve in.

‘You.

My home’

He chokes out a laugh, tears rushing to the surface and dripping with a joyous shake of his head. “And you think someone else could… Bunny,” he whimpers. “Fuck, I love you. I love you. I love this, I’m never going to look at this and want to do anything but love you harder.”

Something changes the moment his eyes lock on you.

Something foreign and new– an excitement shown in a tight shift of his jaw, a dark smirk growing along his stubble-clad cheeks. A click of his tongue sends a shiver down your spine, his eyes and grin drowning you in this new temperature and reducing you to a puddle all for Bucky to swim in.

“This” he states, holding the cabin up towards you, “is dangerous, Bun… you don’t know what this means to me. Don’t understand what this does to me…” he deeply groans, shifting the weight from his left knee to his right, placing the small cabin safely behind him and prompting you to finally realize that all this time he’s been on his knees.

When did he get down there?

“I feel like a new man, bunny. You can’t just go around looking the way you do, loving me the way you do, making me gifts with my own damn wood– fuck,” he whispers, realization washing over his smug features. A tilt of his head and a tight scrunch of his eyes sets up his next pained cry, “You used my knives, didn’t you? Fuck bun, that’s hot. God I love you…” he groans, working his way towards you on his hands and knees, thoughts of the cabin forgotten as he hungrily drinks in your giggling and amused figure.

“Bucky…” you chide, backing slowly away from his playfully quickening crawl. “What are you doing?”

He chuckles lowly, the vibrations felt in the air as his teasing stalk backs you into the corner of the kitchen. “Where you goin’ bun? Running from me? It’s your fault… you turned me into this. I used to be a lonely little man, then I found my bunny…”

A giggle leaves your lips, a shake of your head and a groaned “Bucky” filling the air as he reaches your place against the wall. Widening his eyes at you, he shrugs his shoulders tauntingly.

“Looks like there’s nowhere left to go, bun,” his large hands brush against your calves, pulling you from the wall as they make their way up the backs of your legs. His large stature sits back on his knees, hands squeezing along your thighs and moving to rest on your hips as an earnest twinkle blazes vibrantly inside the heat of his stare.

“It’s unacceptable you’d ever think your love isn’t enough,” he sighs, gently kissing your stomach. “I’m your home? Sweet girl… you’re my home, my life, my little bunny.”

He rests his chin on your stomach, looking up at you with such radiance that your knees could give out. There’s no room for doubt– he truly means every word.

“Might have to remind you just how perfect you make me feel, just how well my good girl loves me. It’s alright bun, just need me to be a little mean, right?” he questions with a tilt of his head, an ungodly hot sneer stretched proudly against his cheeks as his hands move to playfully pinch your thighs. “Hmm? Just gotta get you on the same page. And I don’t know about you bun, but I’m feeling some strong, new emotions. So if you need me to be mean, I’ll bite. Your love makes me feel crazy things bunny. As long as you know that, I’ll do whatever it takes to show you. ”

You roll your eyes and laugh loudly as he rests his head on your hip, prodding his nose into your upper thigh while he bites teasingly. Cradling his face in your hands, you lean down and kiss the space between his brows, your hand with the bandaids hiding your cut brushing faintly against his cheek and through the locks of hair framing his face.

He playfully growls and bites at your wrist, his hands pinching and tickling along the backs of your thighs as you squirm and giggle in his hold. “Ohhh bunnyyyy,” he sings brightly as his hands continue to tease your thighs, “Stop moving around, you know I like it when they jiggle.”

Squealing and wriggling further, you flail your arms and move your hands to push him away from you, your bandaids catching his eye in the process. He immediately stops, his face falling as a soft gasp leaves his lips.

He shuffles on his knees to sit straight, taking your injured palm into his hold. “Bunny, what’s this? When did this get there, has this been here the whole time?” his fingertips trace softly over the bandaids, scared to apply any unwanted pressure. His eyes reluctantly leave the bandages to meet yours, Bucky’s worry and the need to know now screaming fiercely behind the dazzle of their shine.

“S’nothing Bucky, just a little papercut,” you mumble, a soft dismissal in the lowering bow of your head and an attempt to pull your palm from his grasp.

But he knows you. He knows what it means when you talk to him without looking him in the eye.

Bucky tugs at your arm, angling his concerned expression so you have no choice but to face his unease.

“Are you okay? What’s on your hand?” he speaks softly, tender concern laced within each syllable and consonant. It’s no use. You see the blood showing through the thin material of the tragically colored bandaids– you know he can too. “What happened?” he whispers.

Sighing in defeat you smile sadly and confess, “Cut myself trying to make you that– gift… the knives kept slipping, and well,” you mutter.

“Oh bunny…” he quickly presses his lips to your palm, to your knuckles, to the outsides of the bandaids and down to their middles. “I’m so sorry,” another kiss to your wound. “Is it okay?” a kiss to your thumb. “Is it still bleeding?” a lingering peck to the base of your pointer. “Do I need to take you to a doctor?”

You shake your head and hum out a no, the sweetness of Bucky acting better than any remedy a doctor could provide. It wasn't that deep of a cut; you wouldn’t need stitches— Bucky could make it all better.

He always knew how.

He cradles your hand to his face, rough callouses of his fingertips tracing the outside of your knuckles as his stubble and lips trace the skin of your palm. “Can I see it?”

He pushes himself off of his knees as you move to take the bandaids off, the hesitant shrug of your shoulders enough to encourage him to swiftly lift you from the floor and into his arms.

Wrapping your legs around him while his hands grip underneath your thighs, he holds you tightly to him while bringing you to the couch. He plops down moving your hands to his chest while motioning with a tap of his hand on your legs to curl them up into his lap.

Bucky takes your hand, concern and worry still etched deep within the lines of his face, his eyes tracing over the evidence of the clean slice his knife afforded you.

“Can’t believe you got this from my knife,” he pouts, a fresh shower of kisses raining down gently on the crease of your hand. “And all because you wanted to make me something...” He gently traces the cut with his knuckle, scared his fingertip will be too harsh. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’ve been carrying on… my sweet girl could’ve bled out by now,” he mumbles dejectedly, his eyes widening in pained sincerity.

“Cause I know you and that pout… didn’t want you feeling bad.” He closes his eyes and presses another lingering kiss, a huff of frustrated air cooling the cut and sending a gentle chill along your arm. Smirking to yourself, you kiss his forehead and whisper, “And you’re the most dramatic person alive… you would’ve called an ambulance if I told you right away. Just needed you– just need you. That’s all.”

He scoffs, his expression feigning innocence with a soft hue of pink spreading and painting his features. “What! No I…no I woul– whatever bunny,” he concedes, a smirk growing behind the sweet flush of your precious man. “I’m not convinced you’re okay bun. This cut looks pretty deep… it has to hurt now that the shock’s worn off… lemme kiss it better, hmm?”

“Kiss it better? What the hell have you been doing the last 10 minutes then, huh?” you simper, his lips already making their way to your wrist.

“I was checkin’ to make sure you were okay… not that the pain went away. Can’t have my bunny hurting because she tried to love me too hard– can we? Lemme fix it sweet girl, I gotcha bunny.”

With each “new” kiss, a reverent sigh followed. Bucky’s eyes closed in what he deemed necessary adoration, lips softly caressing the wound you once thought would only remind you of grief. But now– when you’d see it, you’d only think of the love of your sweet boy and the theatrics you spark in him.

“Gotta show you how much I love these precious hands… they love me so much one of ‘em got hurt because of it. But we can’t have that happening again…” he mentions, an air of sobriety potent in his words. “These hands deserve nothing but the love they always show me. I need them. You hurt them again bunny and you’re not gonna like what happens…” he croons, a sly twinkle in his eye at the thought.

“Oh yeah? What happens?” you giggle, his lips dancing along the ridges and veins of your fingers and the back of your hand.

With a low chuckle pressed against your wrist, his eyes flit up to lock on yours. “If you think I’m ridiculous now bun, you’ve got another thing coming. Better be good and listen to me. I always get what I want. And what I want is my good, little bunny.”

[thesevro]

wanna watch / gojo s. + nanami k.

𝖌𝖔𝖏𝖔 𝖘𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖚 + 𝖓𝖆𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖎 𝖐𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖒𝖚𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2.3K words

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: where gojo and nanami decide to get greedy. together. 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: explicit smut, voyeurism, polygamy, one mention of bondage, cum play

HIS AND THE other man's legs cross at almost the same time. Both are trying their damnedest to hide the largest secrets they could ever keep.

Gojo watches you move about with probing eyes. Ignores the innocence of your routine, how you bustle innocuously about with a distracted frown on your face as you kindly prepare coffee and tea for them and yourself. The scent of ground beans fills the air with thick redolence but he can only imagine the smell of your hair as he pulls it back with his hands. This happens in one of his fantasies. In another, he has his face buried in your locks as he fucks you from behind.

I bet she would taste sweet. The thought is such a prominent fantasy that he almost sees you there on the counter, legs spread, clothes as much of a mess as he can make you. He imagines sticking his head between your legs. Listening to the melody of your name spilling from your mouth. He swallows, tries to calm his nerves. He's never been more grateful for the blindfold over his eyes.

Nanami's eyes, hidden from behind his goggles, conceal none of his other tells. He half-fools himself into believing no one can see how his head tilts downward ever so slightly to eye the swell of your ass as you bend over to fetch a bag of coffee grains from a low cupboard. How he lets his eyes greedily devour the sight of the skin on your stomach as you reach for a coffee mug on a shelf high above your head, shirt rising. His jaw tightens. He has too many tells.

Want to bend her over that counter and fill her up.

He wants to run his hands over your stomach. Hook your thighs around his head as he eats you out. Slap your ass until you beg for him to keep going because he knows he can just be that good.

Must she really maintain perpetual seduction? I would like to enjoy her here. School policies could go and suck my—

The two men have the same thing on their minds. The same hedonism. The same nasty thoughts of fucking you until you see stars and cry their names. Makes their brows furrow ever so slightly, their breaths stutter in their chests.

Natural seductress, the pair concludes at the same time.

And you are the first to break the immense focus that has narrowed their visions to mere thoughts of fucking you into oblivion.

"What are you two looking at? You've been staring at me like a bunch of hungry dogs since I came in." You pretend to wave them away, still grinding up coffee with one hand. Boiling tea whistles in another pot. "Shoo, shoo~~ I don't have any food on me."

"Bunny," Gojo starts, rising from his seat with a hand already at the hem of his uniform. Ready to pull it off. Nanami follows. "There's something much tastier right here in front of us."

"Yes." Nanami reaches you first. He will never admit it but he has not always been the best at repressing his need for you. "I must agree with Gojo, for once. You would taste so much better."

"Oh." You smirk. "So you were watching?"

Gojo pauses. Then he laughs. Realizes something.

"You put on such a show for us... on purpose?" Nanami asks this with his teeth nipping at your ear. Gojo lets the man enjoy himself. You two have always been able to show him the naughtiest shit. Sometimes he wonders if Nanami was a sex god in his past life. Occasionally... the blonde had been able to show him, his natural enemy, a very, very good time as well.

"Well. I don't see why I couldn't have done that." You chuckle softly in response to Nanami's query, reaching for Gojo. He kisses your hand. The inside of your wrist. Then he gently pushes Nanami to the side so he can raise you up on the counter.

Nanami cocks his head at Gojo as the other man pulls back to switch the boiling tea off. The blonde raises a question with his eyes as Gojo only crosses his arms and leans back into the counter.

"Only feel like watching today," Gojo says, shrugging.

"Aww," you whine, pouting at him from your place. "But I want you to join us! That was the whole point of my show. Won't be the same without you."

"Careful bunny," Gojo warns, wagging a finger. "We both know that Nanami gets jealous easily."

"...Uh, no, he doesn't." You and Nanami share a dubious glance with each other. "Well, Nanami and I both know you can be a very big dumbass sometimes. Always bouncing around with candy. Always copping a feel of my ass and Nanami's man tiddies whenever you get the chance—"

"Alright honey. That's enough." Nanami molds his mouth into yours. His hand clasps your hip. Another hand grasps the side of your neck in one large palm. You shiver at the hold he has on your neck. Spread your legs wider so he can stand between you.

Nanami slips a hand between your thighs. His fingers explore very familiar territory. He's touched you here many times before.

Your shoulders tense as he slides two fingers along your slit. You wind your fingers through the back of his hair. Let it be a small anchoring point for you as Nanami fucks you with his fingers.

"Nanami, fuck," you swear as he flicks your clit, and this makes Gojo and Nanami himself shift in place to adjust their pants. "Don't make me wait. Let's make this a good show for our audience."

You lace your fingers through his tie. Pull it off and toss it in Gojo's direction so that it lands to hang over his shoulder. Gojo cheers. You and Nanami kiss once more. His tongue warms yours in your mouth. You get the smallest openings to get a taste of his mouth.

He makes sure you keep your shirt on. If anyone were to walk in... well, Gojo wouldn't be fired on the spot, he was much too valuable. You would be allowed to remain with your position as the second strongest sorcerer, too. Him... well, maybe he could just become your concubine.

But he slips two of your buttons off. It shows enough skin for him to mark. He is careful not to leave any above your collarbone as he pulls away from your mouth to nibble and bite at the flesh bulging from your bra.

"Wish we could take it all off," Gojo murmurs as he watches Nanami ravage you. His pants have come undone. He holds his cock in one hand. Strokes it languidly as he listens keenly to your pants and Nanami's grunts. He loves the sounds you both make.

"Maybe putting your cock in my mouth would make things a little better for us," you suggest with a wavering smirk. It disappears completely as Nanami pulls your panties off. He throws it in Gojo's direction as well. Let it be another token of appreciation for their most loyal viewer.

Gojo shifts again as your pretty undergarments land right on his shoulder. He almost strides over to you and does exactly as you asked of him. But control has always been his one point of mastery, unlikely as it seems.

"Let's let you and Nanami enjoy this by yourselves, bunny."

Nanami fingers your slick folds with insidious circular motions. He doesn't stop these motions as he undoes his belt. You push both his hands away to undo it yourself, and to do it properly. It's always been satisfying to unbuckle the length of leather from around his hips. More so to let him wrap it around your wrists. But you have no time for that.

The tongue of the belt hangs just by his hips as you pull his boxers down. You conjure a condom from a pocket in your skirt, grinning slyly at Nanami as he stares down at you in bewilderment. You slide it over his cock. He tenses with the work of your skilled hands, stomach clenching. Absent lube, you briefly wet the rubber with spit to let Nanami's travel to your cunny be a smooth one.

Nanami cups your bottom with a hand. Half your ass hangs over the counter, just enough for the position to stay comfortable but far enough off the counter for him to lead his cock into your cunt. His eyes close as you grab his goggles between two fingers and pull it off his face. He presses his forehead to yours and gives you a chaste, simple kiss. You wrap your hands around his neck to kiss him with the same affection, smiling gently into the kiss. The moment between you is so intimate Gojo nearly feels guilty for bearing witness.

"Gonna get inside you, darling," Nanami murmurs, pulling away from the kiss. He buries his face into your neck with his first slide into you. His breaths come out in grunts. When you whisper his name with that wonderful breathy tone that comes from you every time he or Gojo fucks you, he almost moans.

Nanami possesses this sweet inclination towards fucking you nice and slow in the beginning of a round. But the threat of a peeping Tom (would likely be, unintentionally on the boy's part, Yuji) looms over your heads and frees him of his inhibitions. His first thrust is slow. Gentle, even. Then he pounds into you so hard your body reacts and twitches on its own.

"Fuck! Nanami!"

He does this. Again and again. Creates a rhythm violent enough to crack the counter as his knees meet it with each thrust. Even Gojo doesn't notice. Too much of his focus lies on enjoying such a glorious show.

The sounds of his cock fucking your pussy are downright filthy. Force Nanami to be forthright and he would accurately call them pornographic. Your moans are just as salacious, and the closeness of each sound of pleasure that escapes your lips makes him rut into you with harsher vigor. You bury your head into his shoulder. Cry out into his neck. He can feel the sounds on his skin.

The cold metal of his belt buckle cools the hot skin on one of your thighs. The roughness of that leather rubbing to a part of you so close to your cunt makes your pussy convulse. Nanami pants quietly at the overwhelming sensation of your hole squeezing him. He turns to Gojo with hooded eyes. They widen once the sight before him comes into focus.

"Darling," he grunts out into your neck. "Look at Gojo."

Gojo doesn't notice yours or Nanami's gazes. He ruts into his hand, pumping it over his cock in wild motions. He's thrown his head back in ecstasy, luxuriating in the memorized images of you drooling while Nanami fucks you and the face Nanami made only a minute ago as you clenched around him particularly tight. His throat bobs as he feels himself near his peak. He pants. Breaths the beat of a hummingbird's wings. The man looks absolutely ethereal fucking his own hand.

He notices how the sounds of your fucking have stopped. He pulls his head back forward, concerned but still dazed with lust. He blinks at you and Nanami. Eyes following movement as you hold a hand out to him once more.

"Join us, baby," you insist.

"You look needy," Nanami intones with a ghost of a laugh.

Still, Gojo hesitates.

"Gojo." The firmness in Nanami's voice makes him impossibly harder. He and the other man stare at each other with sin in the eyes. "Come." Nanami curls a finger, beckoning Gojo over. "Make her cum."

And this time he is not willing to protest.

Gojo saunters over to you. Presses a kiss to your bruised mouth and another to Nanami's. He strokes his cock while slipping a hand between the close proximity of yours and Nanami's hips. His fingers find your clit quickly.

You start another rhythm. A more desperate one. You hang just on the edge of your high. The muscles in Nanami's abdomen are tight. Gojo is just as close. Not so far behind. And when your hand slips downward to let him fuck your palm and fingers, he has to lean into your shoulder to keep himself from falling over.

You are the first to unwind. The two men look up to commit the sight of the peak of pleasure on your face to their memory. They savor your moans. Nanami fucks you a little harder. Groans as the hot fist of your pussy squeezes him, milks him. His balls tighten as he empties load into you.

Gojo leaves a mess on your hands as he cums. Sighs into your neck as his eyes roll back. His body shudders with Nanami's as he cums with the other man almost simultaneously.

It takes some time for your bodies to relax. It is dangerous to hang around here, with Gojo's cock in your hand and Nanami's length in your cunt. But this was a good show. One you put all efforts into perfecting.

Nanami kisses your neck tenderly before pulling his cock out of you. You shiver as it slides from your cunt. Nanami wipes at the wet slick between your thighs with a handkerchief while Gojo buttons your shirt up again. They baby you while their cocks hang out like monstrous masses. You almost laugh. It's vulgarly comedic.

Nanami smooths your hair and kisses you again, then steps back to fix his own clothes. Gojo sets your collar straight and smiles tiredly at you, then rests back next to you on the counter to pull his pants up. You raise a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning against Gojo in exhaustion.

Your eyes catch something, and before you can fix your hair you see the white streaking your hand. You blink dumbly at the mess on your palm. It's sticky between your fingers. When the idea comes to you, a feline-like sense of danger returns to your features.

"Gojo, Nanami," you call. Gojo looks to you with a smile that falls immediately as you perform what you know will not be the denouement of your show. Nanami observes your actions with a dipped head and a growl forming in his throat.

The two men are forced to undress once more as you lick at Gojo's cum with the indecency of a starved minx. Tongue between your fingers. Cum sliding down your throat as you lap it all up.

This time, you lock the door. A good idea on your part. Because the round lasts well into the afternoon. Many knocks sound on the door as you enjoy yourselves.

It is a delightful way to spend a day at work.

[randomwriteronline]

Uncharacteristically, the hero of time was the last to wake up.

He grumbled as he sat up, eye still closed and brow furrowed.

"Good morning," the captain greeted him. "Slept like a log, haven't you?"

The oldest hummed.

He cracked open his still functioning eye, and by chance his gaze landed squarely on his direct descendant.

'Ah,' his still asleep mind conjured, "My son..."

He got up, waddled up to the farmer, and landed a dry, fatherly kiss on his cheek without even letting the other get confused. He then repeated the same exact thought process and actions with the sea-faring child and the prolific veteran, stamping gentle pecks on their head and temple so naturally that in his drowsiness he barely noticed the lack of complaining for his sudden affection.

Then he remained perfectly still on his feet.

There were a few seconds in which all nine young men tried to digest that which had just transpired.

"I thought you were gonna do a whole round with all of us." the smallest hero commented.

"Sure, I can do that," the time traveler replied without missing a beat; he took a long step towards the hero of the Minish (an easy feat for his long legs) and planted a smooch upon his forehead without much fanfare.

He moved slowly between the remaining four, kind of like a large goose, giving each a small kiss somewhere on their face while encountering no resistance whatsoever. Each of them simply accepted the token of fatherly love without attempting any gesture of rejection or expressing discomfort.

Finally he stopped and rubbed his eyes vigorously with a groan.

"Ok, I'm awake now," he announced loudly as he pulled at his cheeks and clapped his hands to fully regain conscience, "Are you boys alright?"

A chorus of reassurances greeted him.

"Alright, just checking" he groaned, cracking his back, "Since none of you reacted to that, so. I was a bit worried."

There was a pause before the healer shrugged in a kind of awkward way: "It was nice," he mumbled almost embarassedly. "Maybe we sort of... Needed that. Or something similar."

Nobody added onto that, but there was a wide array of nods. The old man hummed, understanding, deflating slowly.

"You probably shouldn't do that every morning though," the skydweller noted. Immediately he rose his hands to defend himself: "It's nice! It's nice. Just - you know, in small doses."

"Sounds good."

The camp started being dispatched. Fast as lightning, while the time traveler was bent and distracted with picking up a few blankets, the cook slipped behind him and placed his mouth of his nape for the fraction of a second, pressing upon it a small kiss meant to be from all eight of them.

With admirable restraint and a poker face that would have made a stone nervous, the old man managed not to burst into tears.

[traditional-with-a-twist]

xxxv. Beauty and Her Beast

@the-pompous-potato I love your play by plays, they are really the best XD oh, man, you’re right about that little moment of tension there - she could have disappeared! while you were drinking away your mood, Obi! can’t take your eyes off that woman, come on, man, have you learned nothing

@bubblesthemonsterartist haha I love that, he hasn’t quite processed the transition yet XD indeed, the “missus” is not going away until Shirayuki takes steps. aw, I like the idea that Raj’s gift made Izana laugh <3 at least someone appreciates it <.< >.>

<<Previous || first arc || second arc || AO3 || Next>>

Parallel scene: Promises to Keep from Obiyuki Winter Challenge 2018.

...in the north, procuring the documents necessary to formalize the legal proceedings in recognition of your inheritance. In my absence, the steward of the estate will acquaint you with your responsibilities.

You will depart immediately for the southern holdings to take up residence there.

So ended the old man’s letter, and with it Obi’s dreams of securing every happiness for his new wife.

Fate had cheated them in the end, for the very stroke that had brought them together now divided them from everyone else.

He had married Shirayuki with every intention of seeing her happily rooted in the place she loved best to call home, had considered that source of joy paramount, in fact - prior even to his own claims on her.

He had yielded his place to the first prince rather than see her forced from her home, and now he was to be the instrument of her undoing.

...

When Shirayuki read the letter, the guests had gone, the gifts distributed, and everything packed away, save Raj’s token of affection.

They were alone together because he knew she didn’t like for others to see her distress, wouldn’t want it to trouble Little Ryuu or Miss Kiki or the pharmacists.

She did not cry, but only looked at him with her eyes like endless fields.

...

In a small but steady voice, she said, ‘I won’t need long to pack.’

‘But, missus--Shirayuki--you don’t--’ Obi swallowed, his mouth dry. ‘You don’t have to leave Wistal.’

She looked at him, her brow furrowing.

He longed to smooth the creases away, but he kept his hands on his knees. He wanted her to be free, free to choose what made her happy.

...

Her eyes lingered on his face, drawing him in -- he was adrift in their depths.

‘But,’ she said, ‘you’re leaving.’

Obi spread his hands and dropped his shoulders in a gesture of helplessness.

...

He had lived all his life serving another man’s will.

This wouldn’t be the first time he had bent his head to the old man’s yoke. It wasn’t so bad as long as you followed instructions and stayed out of his way.

Shirayuki nodded once. ‘Then I’m coming with you.’

Every inch of her was still and determined, unwavering.

‘But--’ Obi couldn’t look at her. ‘...you don’t have to come with me.’

...

In the quiet that followed, he heard the rustle of her dress; this was all that prepared him before she laid her hand on his wrist.

His skin shivered under her touch.

He had hardly left her side since the announcement and still she did this to him: shocking him with the smallest contact.

Now he could not bear to look anywhere else, but only gazed at her with a face full of tender longing.

...

She lifted her other hand and rested it against his cheek.

His eyes half-closed; he relaxed into the cradle of her palm.

When she said, ‘Obi, I want to be with you,’ he could only nod.

...

They met again in the courtyard, Shirayuki with a satchel over her shoulder and Obi leading a horse by its reins.

The stable hands had fetched it for him without questioning as soon as he had mentioned their destination -- not bad at all, better perks than the last job he had undertaken for the old man.

He secured Shirayuki’s single piece of luggage to the saddle, thinking how glad he was that they had seen everyone at the wedding feast because there was no need to say good-bye again.

They were not going far; they would be back; he would bring her back as often as he could.

...

He turned to help her up and found that she was staring at the unspeakable gift again.

‘Obi … don’t you think that it might be a nuisance to someone if we leave it here? 

‘Not,’ she added quickly, ‘that Raj meant it that way, and I’m sure it was very kind of him, only it is so large…’

...

Obi spared a glance for the mass of ribbons and jewels. ‘Not to worry, missus, I’ll think of something to do with it.’ 

He made this promise rashly, having no idea what purpose it could serve to anyone, but with a clear conscience in the fullness of his confidence that the right thing would present itself in time.

...

‘Up you get, missus.’ He lifted her, thinking that she felt lighter than her luggage, into the saddle.

Of their own accord, his hands lingered longer than necessary, spanning her waist between forefingers and thumbs, feeling how fine she was in her tiny perfection.

The heat of his palms drew her attention away from Raj’s gift at last; she looked at him inquiringly, strands of hair framing her face as she bent to search his expression.

...

Gazing up at her, Obi remembered the kiss he had yet to claim.

His fingers flexed against her hips, but he checked himself. There would be time for that when he had brought her to a safe place where she could rest her head.

They had plenty of time - an entire life together.

...

With a shake to clear his head, he sprang up in front of her and took the reins.

Shirayuki slid her arms around his waist and leaned her cheek against his back.

He felt her need for comfort in the grip of her hands, and spoke gently to her. ‘Cover yourself with my cloak, missus; it’s cold riding horseback this time of year.’

...

Shirayuki obeyed gratefully, pressing herself still closer against him with only an open fold to expose her to the harshness of the world.

She didn’t want to see the castle slipping away, the familiar roofs and doors of the city drifting by.

She hid her face from it and tried not to ask when she would see it again, tried not to even think.

Eventually, lulled by the double rhythm of the horse’s hooves and Obi’s heartbeat, she dozed against him as they rode.

...

They passed out of Wistal unheralded, unwatched, save by the gleam in a single castle window - a solitary lamp, lighting the chamber of the first prince.

...

Sounds and sights blurred together, interrupted only at intervals whenever Obi stopped to dismount.

She would huddle against the horse’s neck, trying to trap the heat in the space he had left behind, too sleepy to even wonder that he left his cloak with her.

Then he would return, usually with something hot for her to drink, but once with a thoughtful expression and a roll of paper tucked into his shirt front pocket.

...

‘Obi?’ she asked, muzzy but still curious.

He cast her his most enigmatic look. ‘Not much longer now, missus. Are you cold?’

Dusk was deepening then; she didn’t have the energy to press him when she would rather be snuggled against the warmth of his back.

...

She shook her head. He swung into the saddle and back into the circle of her arms.

From that point, they left the main road and turned off onto forest paths that led them deep into the trees.

‘Where are we, Obi?’ she asked whenever they took a new turn.

‘The estate’s southern holdings, missus,’ he would say every time, until at last they stopped.

...

Shirayuki raised her head to find them alone in a clearing before a wooden cabin with candles brightening its windows. It shone like a golden lantern in the still soft shadows of the forest.

‘Where…?’ Shirayuki began, perplexed, but this time Obi turned to her with a grin as wide as the moon and sang:

‘Missus, we’re home!’

[sondepoch]

i'm sorry i'm actually stupid and don't know how to read skjdhfkjshaf so action would i guess be gift giving with mammon? :)))) again i love you and i stan you and you're wonderful thank u for tolerating my bullshit

Sonde’s Sunday Snippets II-X

It starts off simple, with the smallest of things. Little curios Mammon finds in various Devildom shops, things that remind him of you, things that he thinks will make you smile. Odd trinkets you discover on Akuzon, flourishes that you think will complement Mammon’s inclination for shininess, for possession, for greed.

Neither of you can possibly say when it started but you both know how it continues, the two of you always on the lookout for another knickknack to buy the other, anything to make each other smile.

And these gifts are hardly proper gifts, if you’re being honest.

They’re never wrapped, and there’s rarely any dramatic buildup prior to the moment they’re given. They rarely cost more than a couple grimm. They’re always small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, things that often have no practical use other than to make you smile when you think of them.

You think the first gift might have been a tiny eraser Mammon gave you. It was the size of your thumb, shaped like a monkey and attachable to your pencil. What? Mammon had snapped when you questioned him. Ya humans descended from monkeys, didn’t ya?

At the time, you’d only laughed and accepted the gift. When you went out to buy something in return—a tiny comb, you explained when he asked you what it was, for his birds—you didn’t realize that it would become an ongoing affair.

When Mammon eventually confessed his attraction towards you, you expected the gifts to stop. You thought they were a token of how much you meant to him—and now that he could finally express such a thing to you in words, in hugs, in kisses, and in love, you thought there was no longer any need for the gift-giving to continue.

But it did.

And it lasted all throughout your time in the Devildom.

It’s your second last night in the Devildom when you finally force yourself to begin packing all the gifts away. You expected that it would be an easy affair, given that you’d been whisked away to the Devildom with virtually no luggage on your hands—but you find that you’ve accumulated a substantial amount of trinkets in your time here, all items which you refuse to part with.

Nearly all of them are from Mammon.

You fit them carefully into your suitcase, positioning each one such that nothing will be damaged. You don’t even notice Mammon watching you in the corner, a wistful expression on his face as he watches you pack them away, one by one.

He only speaks up when you’re done, when you’re closing your suitcase with a downcast look on your face.

“I have one more.”

You blink up at the demon, surprised to find him watching you. He doesn’t give you a chance to question him, instantly dropping down next to you, sitting on the ground.

“I have one more gift for you.”

You don’t say anything when the demon procures a box from his pocket, handing it to you. He doesn’t open it, but you know what will be inside even before you see the stunning ring.

“Are you asking me to marry you?” Is the first question you ask, peering up at Mammon. It’s not a terrible idea, but you’re not sure you’re ready. And you don’t think Mammon is, either.

“N-no,” The Avatar of Greed responds instantly, a flush on his cheeks. “It’s j-just to promise me that you’ll keep me in your heart when you go back. For now. D-don’t you have promise rings in the human world? Asmo told me—“

You cut the demon off with a kiss.

“Yes,” You whisper, interlacing your fingers in his. “I’ll keep you in my heart for as long as we’re apart and even when I come back to the Devildom.”

And tomorrow, on your last night in the Devildom, you’ll buy him a ring to match, a vessel of your affections to keep him company until you can return to his side and shower him in gifts once more.