#way of knowing if demise would make good on his promise or not. i can see belief vs nonbelief being a very strong dividing factor among

[blueskittlesart]

POST MORE SWORD OF FATE PLS IM BEGGING

i have very little in terms of actual art LMAO but i CAN explain the sword thing because i checked and i did in fact never make this plot point public. i struggled for a while with creating a villain for this story until i realized that. i put "sword" in the title of the game. of course it has to be about the fucking sword. DUH.

so i want SOF to deal very heavily with religion, specifically the way in which hyrule's religion forms post-sksw but pre-reincarnation. i've placed it on the timeline directly after sksw, making it the first actual reincarnation in hyrule. what this means is that there's no actual proof yet that the reincarnation thing is real and not just an insane bluff on demise's part, and so several key characters including link and zelda barely believe in hylia or demise at all when the story starts. my thought with this setting's version of ganon is that he's the polar opposite of the nonbelievers. The gerudo don't really exist as of now, but he DOES come from the desert region of hyrule--specifically, he was raised in a cultlike offshoot of the sheikah religion which interpreted the hylia/demise myth completely literally and believes that a doomsday is coming, heralded by the foretold return of demise. Because of this, he knows more about the cycle and how to set it in motion than basically any other character. Crucially, he and his people are some of the only ones at this point aware of the existence of the master sword.

ganon finds. a sword. a sword which he THINKS is the master sword. and this theory is only reinforced when the sword begins to speak to him about his destiny and the salvation of hyrule. unfortunately it is not the master sword and he ends up basically a pawn in the greater plans of what's left of demise & ghirahim within that sword, manipulated into attempting to revive demise and destroy the reincarnated hero and princess. he remains in denial until basically the very end of the final battle, completely convinced that he is the true savior of hyrule and LINK is the one being misled. ghirahim is a very good manipulator lol

[navybrat817]

Mission Report

Pairings: Incubus!Stucky x Enhanced!Female Reader, Incubus!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Incubus!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: After a night with the two demons, Brock comes to collect your body and faces the fury of all three of you. Word Count: Over 4k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, threesome, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, spitroasting, blood, violence (shooting, stabbing, and more), physical and mental torture, dark elements, death, revenge, implied noncon, possessive behavior, supernatural elements, Incubus Stucky (that's a warning, lovelies!). A/N: Fic #10 and final fic for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! I had to revisit my incubi the day before Halloween and this is a direct follow up to Ready to Comply. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Less than a day passed since Bucky and Steve claimed you as their own, but it felt like you always belonged to them. You were their eternal award for their capture. They were your reward for the pain you endured. The three of you would scorch the earth together.

Your captors weren't strong enough to endure the flames.

As you lay naked on the floor as instructed, you counted the footsteps as the squad members got closer. There were three pairs of heavy boots, one set which belonged to Brock Rumlow. You almost pushed yourself up when fiery anger coursed through your veins. You wanted him turned to ash just so you could watch the wind blow him away into nothingness. It would be glorious to smile in the face of his demise.

“She feels your rage, Buck. Reign it in,” Steve ordered from where he sat in the corner.

“No,” Bucky spoke in an almost laidback tone from the opposite corner. “Let her feel it.”

In the very short time they bound you to them, you figured out that Steve was the more assertive of the two. It didn't mean Bucky wasn't forceful when he had to be. At the moment though, he wanted you to feel a bit more of his impulsive side.

“Now isn’t the time,” Steve chastised, making Bucky scoff in reply.

You lost the concept of time the day you were unwillingly taken under Hydra's wing. Counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds did you no good as you waited for whatever horror they decided to unleash upon you. The days were no longer a precious gift, but a stark reminder that you were closer to death.

A sound reminiscent of a snarl escaped as you opened your mouth. “Hydra took everything from me,” you grumbled as angry tears sprang to your eyes. “I want their blood to stain the ground. I want it to paint the walls.”

Thanks to the demons in your cell, your demons, you would get your revenge. You would live to fight again. And you would live to serve them. You promised them forever, after all.

An odd sense of comfort surrounded you and allowed you to breathe a bit easier. “We can feel your pain, sweetheart,” Steve whispered.

Bucky hummed, the warmth doubling within your chest. “We can also feel your strength, doll.”

“We'll spill their blood,” the blonde promised as you blinked the tears away. “But not if you're impatient. We need you to act docile when they take you out of the room.”

“Stevie's right. We know you're angry. We all are. They'll pay. Trust us,” the brunette agreed. “And we'll have lots of fun along the way.”

Demons were many things and played lots of tricks, but one thing they wouldn't do was lie to you. It allowed you to let the hurt go for the time being. “I'll behave,” you whispered when the footsteps stopped in front of the door.

“That's our girl,” the incubi said in unison, the words wrapping around your heart and reminding you that you weren't alone in this fight.

The bond crackled between the three of you as the door swung open. It allowed you to remain still, just like they told you to. You made no move to cover yourself as the men observed you on the floor. Your demons also made no move to go toward them. With the symbol above the doorway, there was no way for them to escape.

Yet.

“Well, well, well. I thought we’d find a corpse when we opened the door,” Brock smirked. Instead of snapping back the way you wanted to, you made a wounded sound instead. “But I guess they fucked the fight out of you after all.”

“She was a lot of fun to play with,” Bucky said, the phantom touch of his claw moving along your back easing you. “Really does go pliant with a cock in her.”

You had to bite your lip to suppress your moan. They wrung so much pleasure out of you that you stopped counting the orgasms. You were certain their seed was still dripping out of your holes.

“She was stronger than most,” Steve added, one of his claws joining Bucky’s as you made another small sound. It was arousing as much as it was calming. As fun as it would be to beg for their cocks in front of these men, now wasn’t the time to play. And the guards weren’t an audience who deserved to watch you get off. “Feel free to bring her back.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking freaks,” Brock sneered, his hand tightening around the taser prod on his hip. “Get up, bitch. We don’t have all day.”

You slowly lifted your head and held a hand out. All you had to do was pretend just a little bit longer. “Help me,” you whispered.

His lip curled in a dark smirk as he stayed in place. “You really think I’m dumb enough to go in there? Nice fucking try. Crawl if you can't walk.”

Bucky growled in your mind and Steve’s fury simmered in your core as you began to drag yourself across the cold floor, both of your demons itching to attack when the men laughed at your “weakened” state. You let them have their fun. It would be one of the last things they ever did in this world. And it would be your laughter ringing in their ears once their souls went to Hell.

Soon.

Once you crawled far enough out of the room, the guards finally moved to grab you. They each took an arm and yanked you to your feet, uncaring of your discomfort, as your head lolled from side to side. Brock’s eyes lewedly dragged along your shivering frame before he grabbed your chin and forced you to look into his dark eyes. There was no mercy in his gaze.

And you felt none in your heart for him.

The fingers on your chin tightened painfully, but you didn’t give Brock the satisfaction of whimpering. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes, sir,” you answered before he forced you to look over your shoulder, your neck straining from the angle. Bucky and Steve’s eyes glowed a furious shade of red as they moved to the center of the room and stared you both down. It would’ve frightened you if you didn’t know that they were yours.

“I think they miss you already. Slut,” Brock taunted, saliva hitting your cheek as he roughly released you and walked down the hall. “Bring her to my office. Let’s see her fight back when she can barely stand on her own two feet.”

Steve whispered one word as the men began to drag you away. “Now.”

A surge of energy flowed through you as you harshly shoved the guard to your right away with enough force that he smacked the wall. Before the other guard could react, you grabbed his gun from his holster and aimed at his head. “Safety first,” you said, firing a bullet through his skull.

“Stupid bitch,” the first guard snapped as he straightened up. You grabbed his wrist when he reached for his gun, his skin warming under your touch as he gasped air. Just as quickly as his skin grew hot, he grew deathly cold.

“You feel that?” Bucky moaned.

“I feel it,” Steve confirmed. “She's giving us his energy.”

You didn't know how you were doing that since Bucky and Steve used sex to drain life force. Were you a conduit now thanks to your bond? Just how powerful had they made you?

“Help,” the guard gasped before you pressed the gun to his forehead and fired. You smiled when his body hit the floor. It felt like minutes, but happened in the span of seconds.

The blood along the walls also brought an unexpected moan out of you.

Blood. Red. Lust.

“That’s our girl,” Steve praised.

“Good fucking girl,” Bucky added, their pride in you making you whimper.

“Really?” Brock muttered from the end of the hall as he turned to face you, his gun in hand as you shrugged. “I should’ve known you’d do something stupid. Now I need to hire two more men.”

“Actually, you’re the one who did something stupid by giving me to them,” you said, gesturing behind you. “And we’re going to kill you.”

Your captor’s scoff made you smile more. He didn’t believe you, but you couldn’t wait to prove him wrong. “Just because you have the serum doesn't mean you're not expendable,” he said, aiming the gun at your heart. “Let's see you try and kill me with a bullet in your chest, bitch.”

“You’re not going to shoot me,” you spoke in a low and hypnotic voice. It wasn’t your own. Your demons were speaking through you. “You’re going to shoot the symbol above the door until you run out of bullets and drop your weapon.”

A bead of sweat rolled down Brock’s forehead as he slowly raised his arm higher, the veins in his neck straining as he tried to resist the order. He had every reason to be afraid. The marking was the only reason Bucky and Steve hadn’t killed him yet. Once they were free, he’d have to answer for his sins.

“What the fuck?” he asked.

“Doesn't feel good to not be in control, does it?” you replied, taking great pleasure in knowing he couldn't stop himself. “Shoot.”

You stared him down as he fired the first shot, watching him grit his teeth. Your nipples hardened as he fired again and you couldn’t help but dip a hand between your legs as power continued to move through you. It shouldn’t have aroused you so much with two dead bodies nearby, but revenge was exhilarating to say the least.

“Don’t get started without us,” Bucky called out, even as you envisioned him wrapping a hand around his cock. With a whine, you grudgingly stopped touching yourself. “I wanna taste you while he begs for his life.”

“Oh, he’ll beg,” Steve smirked, his claws scratching the wall by the door. “And we won’t listen to his prayers.”

“Shit,” Brock groaned, his arm trembling as he took his last shot.

The hall went silent as you dared to look behind you. Whatever marking that kept the demons trapped in that cell was gone now, lost in a pile of rubble and dust on the ground. “It’s time to play,” you said, urging them to come out.

The gun fell from Brock’s hand as Steve took the first step. He sighed happily when nothing prevented him from walking through, but the glow of his eyes was anything but comforting as he looked at Brock. With unnatural speed, he flew toward him as he reached for his radio. The snap of his wrist breaking was one of the best sounds you’d ever heard.

“Mmm. Break his other wrist, Stevie,” Bucky suggested as he stepped out of the room and joined you at your side. You gasped when he pulled you in front of him to grind his hips against you, his cock hard and hot against your skin. “Make him scream.”

“Fuck-” Brock screamed as Steve snapped his other wrist, his hands useless as the blonde demon grinned.

Steve brought his finger to his mouth and licked a drop of blood away. “You taste bitter,” he taunted before he lifted his head. “Another guard is on the way.”

Bucky chuckled as said man entered the hall a moment later. “All alone? That's brave and stupid.”

“Oh, my God,” he said as he surveyed the scene.

It had to be quite the sight. Blood and brain matter along the walls, the man's boss on the ground in pain, you and your demons naked and unafraid. Haunting and beautiful.

“There's no God here,” Bucky smirked as he lazily rocked his hips against you. “But feel free to pray anyway.”

“Do something!” Brock ordered through his pain.

Bucky spoke a command in his natural tongue as the guard dropped his gun. Fear radiated from him as he took a knife from his belt and turned the edge toward his throat. “I don't wanna-” he shoved the blade deep in his neck with wide eyes before he could finish his statement, gurgling as he collapsed.

“Die,” you whispered, completing his sentence.

You had to bite back a moan as Bucky turned your head to meet your lips in a filthy kiss, Steve smirking as he looked back at you two. The carnage fueled their need as much as yours. As the coppery scent of the blood continued to fill your nostrils, you justified that this was the right thing to do. The men made their beds.

They could die in them.

“Come in,” a voice on Brock's radio rang out.

“Shh. Don’t make a sound,” Steve ordered, grabbing Brock’s radio as the operative went eerily silent. His eyes bulged as the demon began to speak with his voice. “Go ahead.”

“Thought I heard commotion in the hall. Sent David in to assist. Do you need more backup? Over.”

“Negative. Subject tried to escape and we subdued her. All clear. But no one is to go in the South Wing, no matter what you see or hear. And tell all S.T.R.I.K.E. members to gather in the debriefing room and await further instructions. Over.”

“But sir-”

Steve's eyes flashed as he continued to speak like Brock. “Did I fucking stutter? Get the men there and stay the fuck out of here. That's a direct order. Over.”

“Roger that.”

Bucky chuckled when Steve crushed the radio in his hand. No alarms rang out. No soldiers ran down the hall to recapture you. There were no lockdowns. Brock knew he was fucked.

And not in the way you would be.

“You know, Rumlow. You truly are a dark soul with a penchant for pain,” the brunette began, nipping your shoulder as his hands roamed your body. “We could’ve worked out some sort of deal with you. Given you true power. But you just had to lock us up.”

Something dark surfaced from the depths of your mind as you listened. You saw yourself curled up, naked and trembling, in the corner of a cell similar to the one they kept your demons in as Brock advanced on you. “Make yourself useful or you’ll die choking on my cock,” he threatened. It was a memory you kept locked away after they captured you and shot you up with the serum. One they thought they erased for good.

The anguish was almost enough to drown yourself in.

“And you just had to hurt our girl,” Steve snarled, swiping his claws across Brock’s cheek when you whined.

“No one hurts our girl,” Bucky growled over his cry as blood sprayed from the open wounds.

You no longer felt like you were drowning as they fed you strength, allowing you to see clearly again. You always wanted someone protective by your side. Someone to fight for you. Now you had two beside you.

“He can’t hurt me anymore,” you said as the blonde grabbed him by his hair and pulled him back down the hall toward you. He may have yanked a few strands out along the way. “Would you like to hear my mission report, Rumlow?”

His chest heaved a bit as he lay on the ground, trying to breath steadily through the pain. “Yes,” he lied, knowing better than to smart off again.

You arched your back when Bucky covered your breast with his hand, squeezing it gently as Steve joined you and began to play with the other. “You tossed me in their cell with the hopes they’d drain my energy, but I came out stronger. You know why? Because I gave myself to them. All of me,” you explained. A gunshot rang out before Brock screamed and grabbed his knee, the pistol you stole from the dead guard now in Steve's hand. “Their power flows through my veins and my soul belongs to them. We’re bound to each other.”

“And her energy is delicious. Just like her cunt,” Bucky smiled as he turned and shoved you into Steve’s arms. He sank to his knees and winked before he tossed your leg over his shoulder, nosing at your slit. “Hold my horns if you need to.”

“I supposed we should thank you,” Steve said, tossing the gun away. He brought a hand back to your breast, pinching your nipple as Bucky licked along your folds. You grabbed his horns and squeezed when his wicked tongue got to work. “Whatever you injected her with helped her survive what would've killed a normal human. And the more we fucked her, the more she needed us.”

“Such a greedy, pretty thing when she takes our cocks,” Bucky spoke against your pussy, the image of him fucking your throat while Steve took you from behind shimmering in your mind. You could feel them inside you, claiming you as theirs. “Didn’t even take much for her to come when we took her ass.”

Your holes clenched, desperate for them to fill you again. “You tried to turn me into a weapon,” you moaned, smiling as blood dripped from Brock’s leg. “I guess, in a way, you succeeded. Because we’re going to destroy Hydra.”

Bucky flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit as you squirmed. It wasn't enough. You needed more. “Three guards down.”

Steve smiled as he kissed along your neck, his lips lingering on your pulse. “And you’re next, Rumlow.”

“No,” Brock breathed, pushing himself up with his elbow. Fire filled your eyes when he met your gaze, his face going pale under your stare. Were your eyes glowing? “I-I can still join you. I can help.”

“I don’t think you can help us,” Steve said, nodding down to Bucky. His tongue stabbed deep with a moan as he swiped his hand along Brock’s thigh, his claws tearing through the tactical pants and skin. More blood splattered as he screamed in agony. “But you can bleed.”

“Beg. I want you to beg for me to save you,” you moaned, grinding against the brunette’s face before your expression twisted with anger. “I was innocent, you piece of shit.”

Where was your innocence now? Gone. Destroyed. But you made a choice. You allowed yourself to slip into darkness by joining forces with the incubi they captured. And you didn't regret it for a second.

“Please,” Brock said above a whisper, trying in vain to cover his wounds. How much had it taken for him to say that single word? “I-I was just following orders. I'm sorry. Save me.”

You regarded Brock with an unsympathetic gaze. You could show him compassion that he never bestowed upon you and let him see that there was still good in you. But where was the fun in that? What kindness did you possibly owe him?

You glanced back at Steve as you considered it, who merely smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You felt Bucky smile, too. They encouraged your fury, fueled it. These demons truly were glorious. Horrifying.

And they were yours.

“You're not sorry and you know the orders were bullshit. So as far as saving you?” You asked, smiling when the realization of his doom crossed his face. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Brock's hands flew to his head as he let out a cry of anguish. It filled the hall, like a song of agony as the lights flickered. The sound almost shook you to your core, but it fed into your growing darkness. You embraced it with a smile.

“Do you know who those screams in your head belong to?” Steve asked evenly as Brock continued to yell and thrash around. “That's the suffering of every person you ever hurt. All the pain you caused.”

Bucky pulled his mouth away to glare at him. “Including our girl.”

How many bodies had Brock and his men left on their path of destruction? How many lives had they ruined? It was only fair to return the favor.

“Stop it! Make it stop!” Brock cried, slamming the back of his head against the ground with enough force to crack it. “Stop!”

You cried out when Bucky shoved two fingers inside you, his claws careful not to cut you as he thrust deep. “You're close, doll. Dripping down my fingers,” he said, the sound of your wetness blending in beautifully with the wail of pain.

“He's close, too,” Steve said in your ear as he reached down to toy with your clit, playing with the sensitive bud with a grunt. You hardly paid any attention to Brock now, even as his body twitched and blood from his skull stained the floor. He was inconsequential to you as the light began to fade from his eyes. He was nothing. “It's the end for him.”

Bucky twisted his fingers with a smirk, your pussy quivering as you were ready to fall apart. “Come while he takes his last breath. Let go. Let it all go.”

Your vision swam as you did as he commanded, your entire body throbbing with pleasure. You felt the air leave Brock's lungs as bliss flooded you, Bucky's groan obscene as he brought his mout back to lick up your essence. Steve held onto you as you lost yourself, every part of you inside and out owned by their touch.

In that moment, you were invincible.

“Good fucking girl,” Bucky said, his mouth and chin wet from your release as he took his fingers out and lowered your shaky limb from his shoulder. “Damn. I thought he'd last a little longer. I wanted to shove his taser rod up his ass.”

“You still can,” Steve said, kissing your shoulder. “You did so well, sweetheart. You okay?”

The praise from both of them made you preen as you looked at the surrounding carnage, slowly coming down from your high. “I'm better than okay,” you exhaled, reaching out with your foot to nudge Brock's body, relief hitting you square in the chest when he didn’t move. Your tormentor was dead. And you wouldn't shed a single tear for him. “He's gone. He's really gone.”

“He is. And we're free, thanks to you, doll,” Bucky spoke, licking his fingers clean before he stroked himself, a cool shade of blue flickering from his red eyes. “Our mate.”

I'm theirs and they're mine.

And as their mate, you had to thank them. Take care of them. Worship their hard and aching cocks the way you were made to.

“Fuck me,” you breathed.

“With pleasure,” Steve smiled, putting you on your hands and knees before he sank down behind you. He shoved his thick cock inside you with no warning, the head of it practically kissing your cervix as you screamed. “This is just the beginning. We have more lives to destroy when we’re done fucking you. For now.”

Bucky tapped his cock against your cheek affectionately before he pushed inside your eager mouth. “Alexander Pierce. Jasper Sitwell. Everyone. We'll kill them all,” he promised, snapping his hips in time with Steve as you moaned, letting them use you like a ragdoll between them. But you didn't feel used in the slightest.

You felt complete.

“You're free,” Steve grunted, bringing his palm down on your ass with a sharp slap. “We're free.”

He was right. You were finally free from the shackles Hydra tried to put on you. And you couldn't wait for the carnage the three of you would continue to spread, once you could form a coherent thought. All you wanted for now was for them to paint every hole of yours until there wasn’t a drop left.

Bucky's head fell back with an excited moan, as if he read your mind. “And we have so much time to make up for. So take our cocks and let us fill your holes before we burn this place to the ground.”

That was a mission you were more than happy to complete.

So, THAT happened and I'm not sorry. Hehe. Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Stucky Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[angelwithdemonictendencies]

and looking back at the scrapbooks i see the softness in your gaze; tell me how terrified you are of your longing, of me.

jd6 x reader: sometimes the nice guy doesn’t finish last.

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), oral sex (m on f, f on m), hair pulling, road head (safety hazard.  don’t do this), not especially rough (consider my other work and what little significance this has), actually feelings (i would never l-bomb you guys.  we’re not there.  we will never be there), idk all my usual stuff.  (please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: alright, thanks for waiting!  just in time for stagecoach to be over!  i love a good cowboy (i.e. not tz11), so jamie-lovers, this is for you.  you’re right, petal is a dumb name, but i’m working with what i’ve got.  i don’t know much about jd6, but i’m contemplating taking tz11 off of my blog entirely because of that absolutely traumatizing toddler temper tantrum he exhibited in the last game of the season, so if you like this, and jd6, let me know, as a spot is opening up on the masterlist (someone tell trev, he’ll be devastated, i’m sure).  usually i don’t write m on f oral, because i like to write dialogue (can you tell?), but i felt an exception was necessary.  you guys are the best, most generous and gentle people.  thank you for continuing to be that way.  what an insane playoff season we’ve had so far - hope you’re all faring well (or at least as well as you can be, bruins fans).  even though they aren’t playing, go canucks.  sending so, so, so much love to you and your snakes.  i think of you often and fondly.  see you soon, thank you for granting me no expectations.

to be honest, there wasn’t really much different about tonight.  the same country music festival you went to every year.  the same beer.  the same songs and the same friends and the same light and promise in the air.

nothing was different, and yet everything was different, because this year you were here, and your ex-boyfriend wasn’t here with you.  you had been together for the last three years.  how much love and commitment could fit into three years?  more than you thought possible.

but love can make a person complicit in their own demise, you had found.  for too long, it had been all too easy to hide his controlling behavior under the guise of three years.  but a month ago, you had finally walked away, for good this time.

so here you were, in that same touristy southern bar you and your friends always ended the night at, in your cowboy boots, tipsy on laughter more than alcohol, more free than you had been in a long time.  dancing, feeling like nothing had ever been more right.

“another, petal?” a soft, fond voice asked from your right.

you turned, felt your face break into a smile, actually let out a dreamy sigh at the sight of his face, nodding towards your empty cup.

“jamie!” you gushed, looping your arms around his waist and grinning up at him.  “missed you!”

he let out a laugh at your reaction, brought his own arms around you.  you felt his plastic cup rest on the curve of your lower back as he peered down at you, flushed.  “missed me?  been with you all weekend, cowgirl.”  his gaze turned soft.  “been with you always.”

he was right.  ever since you had first met, maybe two years ago, you and jamie had been inseparable.  he was one of your best friends, and you were one of his.

he must have seen something in your eyes, because he lifted a hand to brush your hair from your face.  “you okay?”

and you knew what he was asking.  you knew he knew you inside-out, and that there very notably was someone who was not here, because for as long as he had known you, that person had been here.  as long as he had known you, that person had been at your side.

but, honestly, that person hadn’t been on your mind much at all, except to note how much happier you were.  how much lighter you felt, how you danced without worry, without keeping an eye on who he was talking to, who he would disappear to see.  how you had reconnected with friends that he had insisted you pushed away, how parts of you were awakening from a slumber you hadn’t realized they had slipped into.

like, for example, the stirring in your stomach when your eyes met jamie’s. had that always been there?  had you just subconsciously willed it into nonexistence?  had his eyes always been so bright, so soft?

so you weren’t lying when you said, leaning further into the plane of his chest, “i’m perfect.”

his eyes swam with something warm as a laugh rumbled under your palms.  “you have no idea, petal,” he said.

you tilted your head, confused.  the singing in your stomach grew louder.  had he always been so tall, so broad?  had his arms around you always felt like this?  like they belonged there?

before you could ask what he meant, though, he nodded down again.  “want a refill?”

you shook your head, let a sly smile play on your lips.  “i want to dance.”  

his embrace loosened, if only slightly.  “i won’t stop you.”

you let out a small laugh, shook your head again.  “i want to dance with you, jamie.”

something different flashed across his eyes, something you could feel deep within yourself.  something was about to be different, forever, and you wished so genuinely that he would let it be so.  let it be as you deeply felt it should be.  as it should have been, all this time.

your stomach jumped with pleasant anticipation as he set his cup down on the bar, then took yours out of your hands and did the same.  were his hands shaking, only just?  

he nodded towards the dance floor.  “lead the way, petal.”

you smiled, big and bright, then took his cowboy hat off of his head and placed it atop yours before turning and walking towards the floor.  you thought you heard him mumble fuck behind you as you walked, which only made you smile wider. 

jamie rarely swore.  in fact, in your years of listening to him, you had rarely heard anything out of his mouth that wasn’t completely sweet.  but tonight was different.  you had already established that.

a song with a swing in its beat was playing, a lazy, twangy drawl singing along.  the kind of song that demanded to be shared, to be enjoyed.  the kind of song for which the best harmony was laughter.

you turned and reached out your hands to him, swayed side to side and watched him as he took your hands.  warm, so warm, rough, and big enough to fit your whole hand in his.  had his hands always sparked a flame in your chest, one you were sure he could see in your eyes?  

you pulled his arms back and forth, easing him into a rhythm, as he wasn’t a natural dancer.  you swayed and moved your hips, let the music move you and him by translation.

his eyes caught on the top of your head and stayed there for a beat.  “do you want it back?” you asked.

his gaze flooded with alarm.  “what?”  he shook his head.  “no, petal, looks so much better on you.”

“good.”  you grinned, let go for a moment to run a hand through his hair, messing it up in the way you liked.  “i love your hair.  want to see it.”

“yeah?” he asked, practically melting into your touch, his voice taking on the slightest hint of a rasp before you watched him shake any haze out of his eyes and voice.  

pasting a friendly smile back on his face, he quickly picked you up at the waist and planted you back down, your boots resting on the tops of his.  you peered up at him, found his smile a comfort.  “let’s see what you’ve got, cowgirl,” he teased before leading you around the floor on top of his boots in a goofy, awkward, completely imperfect dance.

a goofy, awkward, completely imperfect dance made utterly perfect by laughter and smiles and him.  all him.  the music could have died away, and you swore you would have never known. 

eventually you hopped down off of his boots, swung his arms in time with your hips to a different song.  a song that had you yearning to bring that hazy, hot fog back into his eyes.  one that had you yearning for him, closer.

and of course you noticed how his eyes never left you for even a second.  how a heat seemed to build between you, an understanding.  how long had he looked at you like that?  how blind could you have been to miss it?

you bit your lip to hide a smile when he brought your arm up to give you a twirl, surprised you both when you stopped, leaned your back into his chest, brought his arms down to rest on your front.

this was different.  this was dangerous.  you could feel every breath he took, and you were sure he could hear your heart beat.  but you pushed it further, bit your lips, pressed back deeper until some mixture of a whimper and a groan escaped him.

but you didn’t pull away, only relaxed back into him more completely, feigned obliviousness.  “you okay?” you asked, looked up at him with concern in your eyes.

he saw right through you, as he always did.  he was not impressed, maybe even worried.  “don’t do this to me, petal,” he said, that perfect rasp curling from his mouth like rosy smoke.  “don’t know if i can take it.”

but it took no effort at all to will innocence into your eyes as you tilted your neck back to look up at him, to melt him entirely.  “please?” you asked, your voice like sugar.

the haze in his eyes was too thick to burn off, now.  his smile was sly as he shook his head in disbelief.  “mean, mean girl,” he said as he tightened his embrace around you.  you felt his deep breath run through you.  “i’ve been so good, petal.  gonna ruin my track record.”

you furrowed your brow, spun yourself to face him, let his arms hug you against his front.  “track record?”

he nodded, flushed pink across his nose.  before you could think about it, you traced the tint with the tips of your fingers, felt his breath on you palm.  he didn’t move under your touch.  “going on two years now.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck.  “two years of what, jamie?”

his gaze flickered around the room, almost embarrassed.  “don’t make me say it, petal.  you know.”

and you did, so you didn’t push him to clarify.  you did know, now, weren’t sure how you could have missed it for so long.  you had been so caught up in something wrong, someone wrong, that you hadn’t even considered the person who was so desperately right all along.  had his gaze always been so soft, so drenched in sweetness, or had it always been so when you were looking away?  how could you have been looking away?

you weren’t, now.  you pressed yourself as close as you could into him, let the truth flood into your eyes.  “you’ve been so good,” you whispered, watched him give a small nod in agreement.

your eyes traced the movement as he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek.  “but i’m gonna ruin your track record,” you said, not feeling the slightest bit sorry.  you ran your nails along the back curve of his neck, felt a shiver start under your fingers.  “and you’re gonna let me.”

he kept one arm around your back, lifted the other hand to lift his hat off of your head and lowered it again to rest on the small of your back.  “and i’m gonna let you,” he conceded, but there was no regret, no sadness, no reluctance in his voice, only slow sweetness, complete consent in being an accomplice to what he believed might be his own destruction.

and so you pulled him down so your lips met his in a kiss that felt like piety after a lifetime of sin, like the smell of a perfume you used in high school, like a pinkie-promise, like everything you had been missing.  a kiss that felt like him, and how lovely was that?  to know what that felt like.  what he felt like, like this.

and when you both pulled away, only just, enough to catch your breath, you found that heat in his eyes that you knew was reflected in yours.   “more,” you murmured.

“anything you want, petal,” was his immediate reply, and you could have crumbled at how genuinely he meant it.  

“now,” you pleaded, biting your lip, “need you.”

he groaned, drew circles on your lower back with his fingers.  “anything but that.”

you pouted, to which he shook his head.  “fuck, i won’t budge on this one.  i’m not fucking you in a bar bathroom, petal.  not when i’ve wanted you for as long as i have.”

it still felt sort of surreal to truly understand that.  you didn’t let your gaze falter.  “please, please, can we go home, then?  it’s only five minutes to the hotel.”  you knew he wouldn’t dare refuse you.  “i need you, so bad, jamie.”

he was already leading you out of the bar, pulling his keys from his back pocket, opening your car door and helping you in before settling into the driver’s seat.  

but when he put his arm behind your headrest to back the car out of the parking lot, you knew the five minutes to the hotel was five minutes too long.  so, when he pulled out into the road, you turned to him, rested one hand on his thigh, the other right above the zipper of his jeans, felt your smile glow at his immediate whimper.

“fuck, petal, don’t,” he pleaded, tilting his hips up to meet your touch, breathing becoming ragged.  “i’ll crash the goddamn car.”

you didn’t relent, palming him and relishing in his little sounds.  “please let me suck you off, jamie?  i’ll make you feel so good, promise.”

he groaned, his grip tensing on the steering wheel.  you watched the discipline fade from his eyes, bit your lip as his voice took on the despair of a beggar.  “please, petal,” he finally bit out.  “please make me feel good.”

you smiled to yourself as you took him out of his jeans, spit into your hand, pumped him up and down, felt him hard and hot under your palm.

“oh, fuck,” he murmured, working to keep his eyes on the road.  “fuck, petal, love your hands on me.”

you hummed.  “love your dirty mouth, jamie,” you praised.  “let me hear you, yeah?”  before he could answer, you took him in your mouth and hollowed out your cheeks.

you felt one of his hands tangle into your hair, making you moan around him, forcing a matching moan from him as you began to bob your head up and down.   

every breath of his sounded like a monumental effort as he tried his hardest to keep his eyes up, not closed and not on you.  more than anything, he just wanted to look at you.  his words came out like a prayer.  “can’t do it,” he croaked.  “feels too good, petal, fuck.”

you glowed under his praise, pressed yourself down further, let him hit the back of your throat as the car came to a stop.  he pulled you up off of him, mumbled a thank fuck before capturing your lips again in a feverish kiss.

“finally,” you murmured against his lips, zipping him back up before rushing to get out of the car and into the hotel.  he took your hand as he led you down the hall to his room, everything around you both an irrelevant blur.

when he finally shut the door behind him and pulled you to his chest to kiss you again, there was only him, and you, and nothing else.  you clutched at his shirt with your fists, felt just how effective your mid-drive activity had been against your front as you both kicked off your boots and tugged at each others’ clothes.

“please let me taste you, petal,” he begged into your mouth, “been dreaming about it, about you.”  you merely nodded and whimpered your consent, pulling off your jeans.  how could you deny him this?

when the back of your legs hit the bed frame, you let yourself fall back onto it, pulled him down with you by his shirt.  now that you had felt his lips on yours, you were reluctant to pull away even a bit.

but he pulled away first, shifted down to kneel in front of you, pushed your thighs apart and looked up at your through his long lashes.  “you’re sure, petal?” he asked, suddenly hesitant.  you nodded, but he persisted.  “i can’t be a rebound for you.  don’t think i’d survive it.”  glossy vulnerability played across his gaze.  “tell me you’ll keep me.”

you spoke without wavering, tangled a hand in his hair and forced his eyes to meet yours entirely.  “i promise i’ll keep you, jamie.  as long as you’ll let me.”

he shone under your words like a teacher’s pet given a golden star.  “then let me take care of you, petal,” he whispered.  “like you deserve.”

his grip on your thighs tightened as he lowered his head to flatten his tongue and lick a stripe through your folds, forcing a choked moan from your throat as you clutched harder at the soft waves of his hair, making his own grunt vibrate through you.

your moans spurred him on as he teased your clit with his tongue, at the same time bringing a finger up to slowly push in and out of you.  you hummed in pleasure, your thighs tensing.  “look so pretty on your knees for me, jamie,” you breathed out.  “fuck, so good to me, hm?”

you saw the muscles in his back and shoulders clench as he whimpered, only stimulating your clit more as he added a finger and increased his pace.  you bit out a breath, feeling yourself quickly getting close as you tugged at his hair in warning.  

“shit, j, gonna make me cum,” you whined.  “fuck, right there.”

he didn’t slow down, only increasing his speed in and out while sucking on your clit, sending you spiraling over the edge as fuzz crept into your vision like an exploding star, your thighs shaking underneath his strong grip.  

slowly, you came down from your high, your heart swelling as you met his patient eyes, looking at you with nothing short of wonder.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked, suddenly subconscious.

he shook his head with a slight laugh as he shifted up from his knees.  “can’t believe that this isn’t a dream,” he admitted, now only a breath apart, “fuck, can’t believe how lucky i am.”

you grinned, captured his swollen lips in another kiss that you hoped told him that you felt the same.  he pushed his hips against you, and you smiled into his mouth at the stiff length against you.  “need you inside me, jamie,” you whispered.

“petal wants even more?” he said.  you nodded, unzipped him again.  “then that’s what petal will get,” he conceded, tugging you towards him by the outside of your thighs, laying you flat on your back, slowly dragging his cock back and forth through your folds.

you pouted, wrapped your hand around his forearm.  “please, need you now, j.  don’t tease me.”

he immediately pushed into you, slowly and fully, the sound that escaped him a mix between a groan and a whine.  you squinted at the stretch, the fullness, this feeling of him that made the two of you one.

“you feel like a dream, petal,” he grunted, keeping still for a second longer as if to remember this moment forever.  “like a fucking dream.”

“please move, j,” you pleaded, tracing your nails along the underside of his forearm.  “so big, please, fuck me.”

“like you’re made for me,” he bit out like a revelation, slowly beginning a pace in and out of you. “fuck, so wet for me.  feels so perfect.”

you whimpered as the stretch expanded, as the feeling of him overwhelmed all of your senses.  

“open your eyes, petal,” he begged, running his thumb back and forth across your clit, making you cry out from overstimulation.  “look at me, yeah?  want to see you.”

and you couldn’t say no to him even if you wanted to, not like this, not when he was here, when he was everything, everywhere.

he moaned when your eyes caught on his, filled with longing, finally recognized, but never satiated.  he fucked into you harder, but not faster, wanting you to feel him as deep as possible, so deep that you’d think of him tomorrow. 

as if you’d go a day without thinking of him.

he continued to tease your clit, making your thighs spasm in short spurts as you clenched impossibly hard around him, impossibly warm, entirely you.

“oh fuck, petal, you gonna cum again for me?” he asked, bringing his other hand to place pleasant pressure on your lower stomach.  you whined in response, your eyes rolling back at the sensation.  

“please cum with me,” he said, “want to feel you cum on my cock.  fuck, wanted to feel you for so long, petal.  cum for me, hm?”

and at his words, you did as told, clenching tight and gushing around him, triggering his own orgasm.  he whimpered as he collapsed on top of you, both of your bodies shiny with effort and pleasure.

you let your breaths gather in his collarbone as his landed in your hair, messy and beautiful, as he lifted off of you and pulled you into his side, where you belonged.  you let your breathing do the talking as you felt yourself sparkle with satisfaction, taking in how beautiful he looked.

“you’re so beautiful,” you finally murmured into his chest.

he shook in a low laugh.  “thank you, petal.”

“i’m serious,” you said.  “no one tells you enough.”

he pulled back slightly, searched your eyes, pushed a lock of hair from your damp face.  “i don’t need anyone else to tell me,” he said.  “only you.”

you pressed your lips to his in a chaste kiss before sobering again.  “what does this mean?”

he continued to play with your hair, twisting it around his fingers as you analyzed his rosy face.  he let out a breath.  “you know i want as much of you as you’ll let me have.”

“all of it.  everything,” you said without hesitation, but he shook his head.  

“no,” he said, “not everything.”  at your look of confusion, the corner of his mouth turned up and he pulled you impossibly close.  “need you to save some just for you, petal.  you need some of you for yourself.”

no one had ever said that to you before.  no one had ever treated you so gently.

and you didn’t have any words, and he didn’t need any words, so you just took his hand in yours, brought it to your lips, and kissed the top of it. 

a secret message that both of you understood, perfectly.

fin.

[adventuringblind]

Nothing Like The Picture

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Genre: Fluff, some spice towards the end

Summary: She's seen his pictures growing up, talked to him through letters, but the real thing is much better.

Warnings: ramblings about how good-looking Danny Ric is and an age gap of sizable amounts (I'm not sorry)

Notes: A request from @poster66 that I fell in love with.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Growing up knowing you're going to be used as a pawn in a political game is certainly something that can drive even the sanest royals to madness. The thought of having your entire life planned out for you the moment you're born has to be exhausting.

It's not for her.

Maybe it's because it's all she's know from the second she was born. Or it's the stacks of letters that sit on her desk from before she could even read that make this whole thing feel endearing.

Daniel wrote to her before she was born. Mostly ramblings about what he'd been up to. It's like he's written her an autobiography, so they aren't strangers when it does come time for her to be married off to him.

The age-gap wasn't planned. Not when their parents entered into this agreement. Neither of them had been born when they'd been promised to each other.

So, Daniel wrote her letters and when she was old enough, she wrote back. He was elated to get her first letter. Enough to write back instantaneously despite not having done much since the last one.

They wrote about interests and activities. About how their studies were going and how much they disliked their tutors.

She'd sprint through the castle, almost falling down the steps in her rush to receive his letters. The growing feeling of butterflies in her stomach with each written word became all consuming.

Daniel's kind words of consolation, paragraphs of endearing affection and lines of encouragement when she fell into emotional turmoil. She'd go as far as to say he is her closest friend and confidant. She'd shared all her secrets with him. He'd shared some of his with her.

The canvas painting on the wall of Daniel and his family is her only clue as to what he looks like. Aside from his own personal description of himself. He has a 'charismatic smile and devilishly good looks.'

Daniel asks her often about what she wants in the future. He claims that she will be treated as his equal. It's only fair she gets to have her own interests and he'd like to make sure she has whatever she needs when she inevitably has to move.

He writes her often about horses and how much time he spends in the stables. Tucked up in his horse's pen writing her. He rides often, much to his parents' demise. Daniel promises to take her riding and show her all his favorite places to hide away.

She tells him about the hidden corner of the library where she hides herself to read and write. Nobody has yet to find the secret location. Sometimes she uses it to escape her mother's constant hovering and fathers' ridiculous wrath.

When the day comes for her to leave, she neatly tucks away every letter, so they remain safe during the journey. She sends one last message to Daniel expressing her enthusiasm for getting to see him in person.

It takes far too long to get there. She wonders in Daniel would've ridden his own horse. They'd certainly reach their destination faster that way.

After what feels like years of traveling, she's standing at the foot of the steps. Butterflies making it difficult to breathe. They rage around in her chest and stomach.

She gets sympathetic looks from her hand maiden. It's not that she's upset about being here. But the anxiety of finally seeing Daniel is messing up her thoughts.

She manages to coax herself into at least going up the stairs and inside out of the cold. Surely Daniel would not want an icicle for a wife.

She takes a moment to admire her new home, letting herself breathe and relax before she has to face the inevitable.

"Princess!" She whirls around on her feet and is indeed met with a large charismatic grin. He jogs up to her, the distance now standing between them oddly suffocating.

She gives up on restraining herself. It's only the two of them in the hall for the moment. Her arms wrap around his neck.

Just as she imagined, he smells utterly addictive. Strang arms hold her in place. He's too, which is an added bonus given how cold she is at the moment.

"You, are incredibly stunning." He smiles in her hair. It's a good thing he can't see her face because she can feel the heat of the blush. "I hope I meet your expectations and my descriptions did my physique justice."

"I've been staring at the same portrait for five years now. I can safely say that it didn't do you any justice."

"The painters always get my nose wrong!"

Daniel pulls away and cups her cheeks. For a moment, she thinks he might actually kiss her. Which - she won't lie - Is something she'd very much like to have happen. So much so, that she goes for it first.

Alas, Daniel foils her attempt. "Not here. I have plans for you later. We've been writing for years; you can be patient a little longer."

She whines at him, but when Daniel lays a kiss to her cheek and brushes his fingers against his skin, she knows she'll wait for him.

Thousands of years, if neccecary, if only to look at him in real life and not through a portrait.

[reveluving]

Graves and his shy wife who accidentally calls him daddy and his ego gets all puffed up and happy! (I just think as a nickname it's so cute- like Marilyn Monroe always did 🤭) if it's not your thing please ignore!

Ehehehehehehehe 🤭💗💗💗 – Reve, 2023.

Includes: use of 'daddy' in a non-sexual way, humour, & a shiba inu.

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

"Don't take too long, daddy." 

The name just slips, I imagine, because even as a joke, you, yourself, are taken aback by the fact that you said it in the first place, maybe even more than your own husband. 

But while you're mortified, he's elated! Like, really elated.

Daddy. Yeah, it's got a nice ring to it, only because it's coming from you.

The silence is killing you, and you only dare to look back at him when you hear his footsteps approaching. He hugs you from the side, pulling you to his chest as he smooches your cheek. 

"Won't take long," He releases you, takes his car keys and heads for the door but not before adding, "I promise!" 

He then closes the door to pick up the dinner he had ordered for takeout as if he didn't just leave you in your own thoughts, speechless and stupefied that he took it so well. 

Too well.

But you know what would make this cuter? If this takes place in the same AU where his Shiba Inu, Kai, exists.

If Daddy Graves and Mama Graves exist, then why not Pupper Graves? 

Imagine him coming home from work/buying groceries or whatnot, and then seeing Kai in the living room chewing on a toy, but not you.

"Where's y'mother?" He casually asks the pooch as he places his stuff on the table and amazingly, Kai understands. Perking up at the mention of you as he rushes past him to the dining room, where you're chilling with a book in hand. 

You're not surprised by Kai's sudden appearance, already used to his zooming tendencies around the house. You place your book down to pet and squish his cheeks, unable to resist his cuteness, "Hey there, buddy." 

You are, however, surprised to see your husband come in with an all-too-delighted smile. 

You stand up, holding your hands together with a cheeky smile as he stands in front of you, chest to chest before greeting him meekly, "Hi."

"Hi y'self." He chuckles before attacking you with a flurry of kisses, especially focusing on your neck as it elicits squeals and laughs out of you.

But Kai doesn't like it when the attention's not on him.

So, with his sudden need for zoomies, he bulldozes into Graves' legs before running out of the dining room with excited pants. 

"'The Hell–! Kai!" Graves scolded, still holding onto you as the two of you looked at the Shiba Inu running left and right in the living room. He sighs, knowing where his dog's possessiveness over you comes from, but the giggles he hears from you make up for his demise. 

Other instances would include; "Be a good boy and give this newspaper to daddy, will you?", "Be good at the park with daddy, okay?", and "Kai, you really need to stop running into daddy's legs."

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[giddyfenix]

Forever and always

“Joel, what does this mean for us? Are we together forever?” Etho had asked.

“Forever and always,” Joel had replied, cheeky smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Forever,” Etho had agreed, and he didn’t know yet how much he’d mean it.

—

Etho didn’t know, going into Limited Life, what would be of him and Joel. They had lived together and they had died together. They had made each other promises, and they had cared.

By the time they died, neither had brought up the loaded question: what comes after?

Nothing, Etho realized. Nothing, was the answer. 

Etho wasn’t intending to target Joel as his enemy because of it, not after everything they’d been through together and everything they’d done together, but it sort of happened before Etho had time to realize what he was doing, and suddenly each time he opened his mouth, he was trying to get Joel’s attention, or blaming him for something, or bringing him up in unrelated conversations, because when he’d said forever and always, he’d meant it. It was bitterness mixed with uncertainty, colliding and forming something that wasn't quite anger, but was just close enough to blur the line.

It might’ve helped, perhaps, if Joel hadn't also decided to target him.

Etho should've expected it. He knew Joel by then, so when Joel came up to him and said, “Can’t believe you replaced me with a cow, Etho!” not having expected it was all on him.

“He keeps me company at least,” Etho said. A joke, though perhaps not. It was up to Joel.

And then Joel said he was planning to settle down on the ocean with Jimmy, and things were clear, but Etho didn’t want to see, and that was on him, too.

“Oh, so you’re going to make a boat with a new friend, hey, Joel? I thought we were the boat boys,” he joked. He wasn’t sure where they stood with each other. Maybe they were on different teams, but that didn’t necessarily make them enemies, was his thought process.

Joel shot the cow, and cleared it up for him.

"Anything precious you get is getting sniped out now,” Etho said then, and it was so far from anything they'd ever said to each other before that Etho almost stopped mid-way through, but he only had to hear Joel giggling, mocking him, and no hesitancy made it through at all.

I will follow you forever, Etho wanted to say. Like we promised.

He’d meant it when he said it back then. He meant it as they shared resources back in the Relation, and as they hunted down Pearl, and as they died together in the lava. A promise was a promise. 

And really, he was keeping his promise when, only a few days after Joel had confirmed their new status as enemies, Etho pulled him into his mob farm just to mess with him. They were on opposite teams, on opposite ends of the map, and pulling him closer, regardless of how or why or when, was making good on his promise. It was almost a shame that the mob farm still wasn’t done by then. Etho was kind of hoping he’d slip through the middle openings, into the actually dangerous part of the farm. 

Joel said, “Etho, I’m three hours and twenty three minutes away from yellow. I will kill myself to get to that point to come back and kill you.”

Their friends laughed and cheered. They mocked Joel, and they mocked Etho, but none of them knew that Joel wasn’t joking, and none of them knew that Etho was counting on it. Together forever, was their promise. And what was more intimate than death?

And maybe it was that realization that made him focus all his efforts during the green hunts. 

Forever, he’d promised Joel. Forever, forever. Even as enemies. Maybe especially as such.

“I’ve got him hooked!”

Forever.

“Off you go, Joel!” he screamed, giddy and elated as he pushed Joel off his own base, off to his demise. 

Forever. 

“I fell!” 

He landed on Joel’s water. Together forever.

“You saved me! You saved me Joel!”

Forever, forever, forever.

“So now I can kill you!”

After all, Etho had never been one to break his promises.

[miabrown007]

Felonies and Other Love Languages

Adrien Agreste: rich, lonely, freshly aware of the fact that he's expected to take over not a fashion, but a drug empire. Marinette Dupain-Cheng: broke, angry, freshly aware of the fact that bringing down drug empires is a blast. But where would she be without her team, Alya and Nino, and her very good friend, Luka? Not to mention the team’s newest addition, the kind, the funny, the ultra charming Chat Noir. If Marinette likes him, that’s alright, though. It isn’t like she’s dating Adrien Agreste for real. It’s all just part of her ten-step plan to make the Agrestes meet their demise.

Chapter 3 - Pandora’s Box (12,708 words, 3/32 chapters)

Adrien would like to walk along the edge of the curb with his arms outstretched. Like he used to when his mother was there, her palm hovering a breath away from his, ready to catch him anytime.

Instead, he scurries between patches of light on the crushed stone path of Place des Vosges. He doesn't understand why being late fazes him.

He shouldn’t even be here.

He should be up at the office, checking the CCTV footage with Kim to notify the police about the break-in. Or he should be at dinner, informing his father about today’s mishap. He shouldn’t be sneaking out under the disguise of meeting Chloé for drinks. And he definitely shouldn’t, under any circumstances, be searching for Carapace’s hooded figure in the shadows of the park.

In his head, Adrien knows that. But he follows his heart. And his heart rounds a corner with a leap, only to come to a halt in front of a well-lit fountain.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” Carapace says, his eyes shining brightly over his green facemask. He has his arms crossed over his chest in what seems to be a futile attempt at keeping himself warm in the spring chill, dressed in nothing but a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles T-shirt.

Adrien doesn’t hold back his grin. With his own mask in place, it’s not like Carapace can see it. “You know what they say about curiosity and the cat.”

It’s a stupid joke, but if he made up a cat-themed persona for himself, he intends to commit to the bit. Plagg would surely be proud of him. (Even if, realistically speaking, Adrien knows that house cats, much like fathers, are never actually proud. Still, he likes to pretend that what they share is special and goes beyond owning a Blue Ribbon pedigree.)

“You expect you’re walking into your doom and still show up? Admirable,” Carapace chuckles, unaware of the truth those words actually hold. “Now come on, the others are waiting for us. I promise we don’t bite.” He starts on one of the paths leading out of the park, muttering under his nose, “Well, most of us.”

Adrien decides he doesn't actually want to know what Carapace means by that. In his hurry to catch up, the gravel almost slips out from under Adrien’s sneakers, but by some miracle—or years and years of athletic training—he keeps himself upright. “What did you say, who are these people we are meeting?”

The light of a street lamp glinting in Carapace’s glasses as he spares Adrien a glance. “I didn’t.”

It’s more than fair to receive the same non-answer to his question as Adrien had given earlier that day. Still, his chuckle is nervous. He fights the fidgety feeling that urges him to double check that the GPS on his phone is switched on.

“Don’t stress about it, they are friends,” Carapace adds in a softer tone as they exit the park on the northern side and stop in the shadow of the arcades. “We’re almost there, so I’ll have to ask you to put this on,” he says, handing Adrien a baby blue knitted scarf.

“There’s a dress code? This place must be really fancy,” Adrien laughs as he takes the piece of fabric and wraps it around his neck.

Carapace blinks at him, twice, before a chuckle leaves him too. “No, it’s— It’s for your eyes, actually. Just a precaution until we know we can trust you.”

Thank god it’s pitch dark and he can’t see the way Adrien flushes.

“Yeah, I— I knew that. Obviously!”

With much more reluctant motions, he re-ties the scarf around his eyes. He had considered swapping his contacts for glasses—for the sake of an even less Adrien Agreste™-looking disguise—but now he’s glad he’d dropped the idea. Blindfolding himself with them on would be a pain. Actually, merely existing with glasses and a facemask on is a pain, as Adrien was forced to discover this afternoon after much experimenting with the concept.

So, contacts, and anxiety over being only fashionably late it was.

“Sorry, it’s part of the protocol. Let me spin you right round here for a second,” Carapace says, his voice lighthearted. He grabs Adrien by the shoulders and turns him around a few times, until he has no idea what is up and what is down. “Thank you for choosing the Rena Rouge entertainment park, we hope you had a good time,” he says, in the worst imitation of a carnival pitchman.

Still, it somewhat eases the knot in Adrien’s stomach that’s as tight as Nathalie’s hairdo on any given day.

“And now, this way. We’re almost there,” Carapace says, grabbing his upper arm and guiding him forward.

The irony of their first meeting going almost exactly like this—only with their roles reversed—isn’t lost on Adrien, but at this point, he just follows the instructions. He's pretty good at that.

Losing his sight serves to draw his attention to his other senses. He’s acutely aware of the silence stretching between them, the noises of cars and buzzing electric advertisements on shops’ façades.

The pavement under his feet takes a sharp turn, and the city’s noises melt into the background, signalling their approaching arrival. Adrien can’t decide if that or his still spinning head is the reason he feels like he’s going to throw up his supper.

“Who is Rena Rouge?” he asks, despite his nausea.

The beam is evident in Carapace’s voice, even over the sound of a door opening and closing behind them. “Oh, Rena Rouge? Just the most amazing, passionate, talented girl in the whole wide world, who, coincidentally, also makes the best colombo.”

"Your girlfriend?" Adrien guesses.

"For the time being," a cheeky voice slices through the vanilla and pastry-flavoured air.

Carapace comes to a sudden halt. "Hey, what‘s that supposed to mean?"

"Well,” presumably-Rena Rouge says, “we are getting married sometime in the future, aren't we?"

"That's like, the worst way to put that, babe," he argues but laughs along nevertheless.

There’s another giggle, one that eases the trembling of Adrien’s stomach. "Um, guys. The plan."

"Right, the plan!" Rena Rouge confirms, as if she has completely forgotten they are, indeed, in the middle of something that is starting to feel suspiciously like a hostage situation.

Adrien, who at this point would really like to see his surroundings, shifts on his feet. "So, what's the plan?"

Suddenly, someone removes his scarf, two bluebell eyes staring into his soul. "You are the plan, Chat Noir!"

[read the whole chapter on AO3]

[burnyourvillage1968]

hello sorry :"D lol imagine if the reader was Shin's "stress pillow". I mean, there's a person found among Goku's team who doesn't grab that god like a pocket dog under his armpit or on his shoulder, but just shares a hug. So when Goku commits some maximum/minimum threat and stress to the universe, Shin gets a hug from his "healing" human. This guy has been stressed and tiredly terrified for literally most of his life

(Hiii!! It's okay! I'm pretty happy for this ask and it's so freaking wholesome. I love the idea 💕, it's great!!)

Everything's horrible.

Ever since Shin has met Goku and the gang, life was never the same. Every waking moment is a nightmare and he's always the victim in it one way or another.

Mortals aren't what he expected ever since he came to Earth. He expected them to be weaker than his comrades but they exceeded far beyond his expectations. Shin doesn't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that they're powerful beings.

What he does know is that whenever Goku wants a fight with a stronger opponent, it always spells disaster for the small Kai.

During a meeting, he assumed his usual role as the peacemaker, despite wishing he were on his planet enjoying tea with Kibito. A new face appeared among the attendees, and Goku had not yet made introductions. The newcomer stood quietly in the corner, clutching a bag, with a peculiar gleam in their eyes that frequently darted towards the familiar source of his troubles.

At Goku's smile, the small god knew that he's gonna make a horrible suggestion despite his good but questionable intentions. A sense of foreboding washed over Shin. Then something happens.

"GOKU! Go Fetch!" Someone shouts and an object was flying over the balcony. Goku surprisingly responds to the call and flew in the air to go right after it.

Coincidentally Vegeta follows after him. No doubt to race him to catch whatever was thrown in the distance.

Shin blinks once. Twice. And again.

"Are you okay?" Someone pats him on his shoulder.

Shin turns around and sees the same stranger from before. Sparkles surrounded you which made him squint his eyes.

"What exactly did you throw?" He asked with curiosity.

"One of my secret weapons." You chuckled. (It was meat on a bone.) You extend your hand to him for a customary human greeting. "I believe that we weren't introduced yet! My name's Y/n, what's yours?"

Despite the oddities, he feels a sense of relief as his hand touches yours. Upon sharing his name, your smile widens even further in response.

A pleasant sensation emerges within his chest.

From that day on, whenever he's present, you seem to be there as if you can secretly predict important events and you always manage to stop them from escalating further. Especially when everything's start to be too much for the god of creation, you would be there to gently tug him away from the situation promising him that you'll make sure that nothing goes array.

Shin knows that you're not as powerful as the Saiyans and that you could possibly get hurt in the process from Goku's antics.

Yet he can't help but believe your sweet words. You always had your way.

Eventually you both start hanging more around each other even when it doesn't concern the fate or the future demise of the universe.

During one of your conversations, he was surprised to find out that you enjoy collecting plushies. As he admires your collection, you sheepishly scratches your cheek. You admitted that it started in your youth where you would often seek physical affection from friends and family. Now that want was directed towards softer objects.

Among the plushies, he was amused to see one that resembles him. You stuttered when he reaches for it. It has your fragrance.

It wasn't as if he was sniffing around you, trying to discern your scent whenever you were near. Shin quickly dismissed the notion.

As Shin appears lost in thought, you gaze at him tenderly and offer, "If you'd like, you can keep it as a gift."

Your voice shatters his daydream, cementing his determination.

Rather than replying, he stammers and inquires whether it's alright to hug you.

Your cheeks turned a shade of red, your hands fidgeted nervously, and you gave a nod of your head.

Shin's eyes twinkle as he approaches, setting the plushie aside. Noticing his leisurely stride, you exhale softly and lessen the gap between you. Your arms start to enfold him in a warm embrace.

As you both cuddle, your bodies relax, and you pat Shin's back in a comforting rhythm. Shin comments on how nice it feels, and you hum in agreement.

The fragrance you carry gently teases his senses, yet he holds on, his embrace firming ever so slightly around your tender waist. Your head finds a soft perch atop his, the delicate strands of his hair caressing your neck, a playful tickle in their touch.

The deity found himself completely enveloped in your tenderness and the unfamiliar emotions it stirred within him, prompting him to snuggle closer to you.

Shin wishes that this beautiful moment could go on forever, but unfortunately, peace is always fleeting in this vast universe.

In a seemingly perfect timing, someone utters his name, as if in direct response to his thoughts.

"Hehehehe, what are you youngsters up to in this place? Something mischievous, perhaps?" Elder Kai suddenly appears out of thin air, as if his arrival is meant to disrupt your innocent embrace..

And just like that, the moment is spoiled.

Shin huffed in annoyance, poised to scold his ancestor for intruding into others' homes. However, he paused as he noticed Elder Kai had suddenly fallen silent.

Shin inquired whether he was feeling unwell.

Elder Kai quickly apologizes for his abrupt entrance and makes an excuse, claiming he is needed elsewhere, until you suggest accompanying him out. At this, the deity turns pale and manages a forced smile, insisting that he is fine.

Shin cocks his head, puzzled by the old man's unusual behavior.

Had the young Kai shifted his gaze toward your face, he would have noticed your pupils gleaming gold and your teeth honed to needle-like points.

Once you separated from him, your facial features returned to their normal state, and he was none the wiser.

He dismisses the strange behavior of his relative with a shrug.

From that day forward, whenever you're close by, he frequently seeks you out for cuddling sessions. Even when he's off Earth, he visits you in your modest home. You regularly travel to his planet after persuading Bulma to construct a teleportation device for you, ensuring that no more than a week passes before you see each other again.

Shin emits a contented sigh against you as you softly stroke his mohawk. Drifting off to sleep in your arms, he remains tranquil with his plushie by his side. A gentle purring sound fills the room.

[starry-nights12]

One Word Prompt (Jinx Diary)

────

It was supposed to be a really nice night.

Ekko had visited me in my room. We lay on my bed, my head on his chest, and he wrapped his strong arm around my waist.

We held hands and talked about everything and nothing. We pretended the crystals hanging from my ceiling were stars.

I winded up the music box and we listened to that. The circular lightbulb spun around and reflected on the colorful crystals inside like a little dance.

I love it so much.

It's the first gift Ekko gave to me as his friend.

He assured me that we could be happy. We can make more pleasant memories together moving forward.

It's precious to me. It's my own treasure from a kind, loving, and caring man. If there was any doubt that I had a crush on him, that morning would prove it. ♡

I listened to his steady breathing and his heartbeat as he eventually fell asleep.

It always stared at me and I stared back.

The stuffed bunny is nailed above my desk next to my small memorial for my brothers and Dads.

It watched me grow up when she

I shouldn't think about her.

────

I wasn't able to sleep last night.

Even when I'm cuddling with Ekko, I couldn't get comfortable. I was thinking about her when I shouldn't be. I tried not to but it's hard sometimes. I didn't want to.

So, I focused my attention on Ekko. I stayed up and watched him all night.

He looked so peaceful sleeping and I didn't want to wake him. I thought about how beautiful his personality was and how that made him more attractive.

I thought about how he wasn't a liar. He would never turn his back on me or betray me like she did.

The sunrised and its light peaked through the curtain.

The soft sunlight outlined his body and made his rich, dark brown skin almost glowed. His silver loc cuffs glinted prettily around white dreads.

He's stunning. Breathtakingly beautiful. There's no one else to compare him to. I can stare at him forever and ever. ♡

He opened his warm brown eyes at me and my smile was instant. "Mornin', Sleeping Beauty."

He smiled back at me softly. "Morning, pretty girl," he mumbled all sleepily.

It was a slow and lazy kiss but my heart fluttered and I felt sparks igniting like fireworks on my lips.

I felt warm and soft all over. He was mine and I was his. ♡

Adina and the others are making breakfast today. I told him I'd be down in a minute.

I was content.

I was loved unconditionally.

I was happy with the secret, little life I made.

At times like this, I wonder what Vi was up to.

It was a stupid thing to do.

She's cuddling with that demon while they smile and giggle as they plot my demise. How they're excited to throw me in Stillwater and the different ways I'll be murdered.

I can't even enjoy my morning with Little Man. Even when they're not here they RUIN EVERYTHING!

How can Caitlyn be more important than me? I'm her SISTER. Or at least I WAS until she made her final choice.

It could have been the three of us. Me, Vi, and Ekko. We could have all been happy and together instead of drifting apart.

She used to love me. I wished she still did but she made her choice.

But I killed our family and ruined all our lives. She's disgusted with me.

I miss her.

Miss Sis?

What's to miss???

There's nothing to reminisce except her fist turning me into this while she lives her life in bliss.

I needed her and she punched me.

SHE LEFT ME AGAIN.

I'm NEVER good enough for her. I'LL NEVER BE. She's DEAD to me.

Mylo was right.

She cares about that Enforcer more than me.  I KNOW IT.

I DON'T WANT HER.

I DON'T NEED HER!

I DON'T.

I DON'T.

I DON'T!!!

My Ekko is perfect. He's an angel.♡

He stayed. For now

He's all I have left.

He promised to always love me.

He's not like her.

He's all I need and wanted.

I love you, Ekko.

Always♡

[bunny-rambles]

“You watch yourself in fragments.”

characters; wanderer/scaramouche, gn reader

cw/tw; burn out, vent post, hurt/comfort, scara is a little teasing but he’s nice I promise

word count; 1.1k

notes; this one’s been in the drafts for a while and I had to post it so it would stop haunting my wips. it’s very personal tbh, and kind of explains why I took such a long break. thank you to venven for helping with the title and reading this over <33 please enjoy (read more function just isn’t working so I’m sorry </3)

Please reblog if you like this!!

‘I want to give up.’

The paper underneath you is blank, much like your mind. The clock ticks, mocking you with its monotonous sound that permeates the otherwise silent room. Your eyes are glazed over. This felt like hell.

The pen slips from your hand and you let it fall to the ground, watching as it rolls away on the floor. You wanted to scream. The deadline was tonight, and you hadn’t written a single thing.

This is supposed to be what you’re good at.

The only thing you could even call a talent was the way you could weave sentences together to create something beautiful, something wonderful - something better.

Your hand closes harshly around the neatly written words, destroying what little you had and throwing it across the room. It was hopeless. Nothing you made felt right anymore. Nothing was up to your standards. You just wanted to stop.

There’s no point to any of this.

Quietly, you stand, and leave.

The fresh air does little to quell your nerves and worries, your doubts still weighing heavy on your fragile shoulders. If anything, the serenity of your surroundings only makes you sink further into your thoughts, doing very little to distract you from your own self-inflicted demise.

Lightly, you drag your finger over the surface of the waterbank you were sitting by. When the calming ripples finally cease, your empty stare focuses on the now clear reflection in the water, only to see a pair of violet eyes staring back from behind.

“Frowning like that isn’t a good look, you know.” The man behind you drawled, folding his arms over his chest. You weren’t in the mood for his teasing, the look of mild shock on your face replaced with a sharp glare at the warbled figure in the river.

“Please just go away if you have nothing better to say. I don’t want to hear it right now.” Usually, the back and forth between you was playful, very rarely stepping over the line - you knew deep down he wouldn’t ever hurt you, not on purpose. That thought was solidified when his smug smirk changed to a frown of his own, his entire demeanour changing.

He turned away.

A shaky sigh left your lips, hugging your knees tight to your chest to try to soothe the sudden sharp pain stabbing your chest.

Oh.

He really didn’t have anything to say, huh? Well, whatever. It’s not like you cared, anyway. It’s not like he did, either…

The young man seated beside you cleared his throat quietly, your breath stilling at the sound. Oh.

“Talk to me.” His words were blunt, but the softness in his voice was undeniable.

You heave a heavy sigh. Where do you even start? And how do you even describe this to him - how do you put this sensation into words? Aren’t you supposed to be good at that? Or, you suppose, weren’t you? What kind of pathetic excuse of a human were you, when you couldn’t do a single thing right? And when you finally, finally could, it was never enough. Someone was always going to be better. So…

“What’s the point anymore…”

From the sound of your voice breaking, to the way your fists were clenching the grass underneath you so tightly your knuckles had become white, distressed was a term that was an understatement for what the wanderer beside you was seeing. Still, he said nothing, his reflection in the river blurry both by the unsteady water and your forming tears. “I used to be so good at things. People used to really care about what I had to say. Me! Can you believe that?” A shaky laugh left your lips. “Now, I… The art that I’m so familiar with - It feels like I’m a stranger in my own home. It doesn’t feel so welcoming and warm. Feels empty, and suffocating. And if I don’t belong at home…” Where do I belong?

You sniffle quietly, rubbing roughly at your wet eyes. “Sorry..”

Still, he’s quiet. Strange. He usually never shuts up. And now all you want is for him to spew an insult at you, or tell you to get over it and stop being pathetic. Or just… Something. Anything. When the silence finally started to become too much, he opened his mouth.

“This isn’t what I expected from you.” At least he’s being honest, you supposed. That thought alone made you scoff quietly to yourself. “Then again… You never are what I expect out of humans. Weak, selfish, cruel… No. You’re different.” The puppet chuckles. “Still annoying, though.”

Lightly, you shove his shoulder. “Not funny.” You lie, finally smiling. He considers this a small victory.

“You remind me of the handful of good humans I’ve met in my lifetime. They all had one thing in common.”

“And what’s that?”

“They were completely unique. Had their own way of doing things, and did it in a way no one expected. From the overly kind to the too smart for their own good, each of them excelled in whatever they did. And every single time, they doubted themselves, over and over. I’ve never understood it.” The mechanical life form shakes his head. “Always asking if they came off a certain way, or if what they did was good enough. It was always more than enough. But is it even important?”

“What?”

The uncrowned god turns to look at you. “Why does it matter if it’s enough for someone else? Aren’t you doing it for yourself, anyway?”

“I…” You’re at a loss for words.

“Being enough shouldn’t even come to mind. Why do the opinions of others matter so much? You know that deep down, you’re better than what you think. And if no one recognises that, it’s their loss.” A cold hand is set on top of your own, the weight comforting, grounding. “You’re enough for me, if it truly matters to you. But really, it shouldn’t. Do it for yourself, and if you enjoy it, if you like it, then it shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

For once, you have no comeback, especially when his fingers tighten around yours. There’s nothing more to say to that, other than, “You’re right. Thank you.” All you receive is a nod, and a gentle squeeze. “You’re nice when you want to be, you know?”

The one of many names scoffs. “Hah. Nice? I was simply just pointing out the obvious. Don’t think anything of it.” That makes you smile. He’s won the battle against yourself for now.

And so, troubled minds quieten and the riverbank stills once more. All is tranquil again. Until the next time. But if he is here with you, guiding you through these harsh storms and steering you away from the strikes of self doubt, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. The two of you stay there until sunrise, the silence that was once crushing now a blanket of comfort, warm and loving. The ink-stained sky blends with the bright, golden light of the dawn - the world is bright again.

Hand in hand, you’re ready to face this new day.

[luverz-exe]

Ok, I literally just requested this but with slashers. But how would scp 049, 035, and 096 react to a darling who clings to things in their sleep. Thank you in advance, I love your writing and can’t wait to see what you write next! Also can I please be Pancake Anon

Yandere SCPs with an S/O who Clings to things in their Sleep

Sure thing, Pancake Anon, hope you enjoy! Sorry it might take longer for these to churn out, but I promise that more is on the way. Also, since 096 doesn't talk, I made one extra thing for them, just cause I'm in a good mood (;

SCP 049

× Well, that's quite the predicament the two of you have gotten yourself into, hm? In all seriousness, this just reminds him on how much he's missing out on. And he can't even sleep in the same bed with you in fear that you might cling to him, that you'll hurt yourself because of him. So he'd much rather sleep on the floor than get near you in bed, but luckily for you two doesn't need that to happen.

× Tries to get things to make up for his lack of touch, like pillows and other such frivolous items, but ultimately feels like it's a cheap replacement to the real thing. And tries to make up for that with verbal apologizes and thank you's. You deserve it after all for sticking with him.

× On a slightly happier note, he's willing to work with you on finding other ways to make up for this lack of touch. Anything in the facility you want? Well then my dear, just say the word, it's all yours! Anything he can do to make up for the tragedy that is bestowed upon the relationship.

"I'm sorry that it must be this way, but this is not something that can be argued. We can only dream, and fantasize about what could be."

SCP 035

× Speaking of tragedy, we have 035, of whom will start to expect you to hold onto him whenever you are near, no matter if you sleep in his containment area or not. And while he tries to come off with having good intentions, saying that he just wants to make sure that you get enough rest, it's clear that he just wants to hold you and not worry about letting you go anytime soon.

× Always makes sure that his host is nowhere close to rotten, as he can understand that most would rather not be snuggling with a corpse. And as soon as he feels that his body is decaying, no matter how much he wants to stay, he's going to put some distance between you and him. Wouldn't want you to be disgusted with him after all, and besides, he wants only the best for you!

× You've got to hand it to him, for being a mask who has never cuddled with someone before, he's doing a damn good job at making sure everything is okay with you, and what you're okay with. What can I say? He's just a fast learner.

"Oh please, I know what I'm doing. Sure, it took some time, but I now know what I need to do. I can assure you of that."

SCP 096

× And speaking being a fast learner, 096 just can't seem to get the hang of it! The limbs are too long for it to be comfortable to you, and it doesn't help that they just sniffle oh so close to your ear. And don't even get me started on the fact you can't look at them without meeting your demise, cause goodness knows this creature can't handle it, even from their obsession!

× If you somehow miraculously fall asleep in their cell, it's an instinct of its to bring you anything warm in the cell, and if nothing's available, then it's more than willing to be the source of some body heat. Too bad the AC in the room is blasting, and 096 is about as cold as to when you first jump into a freezing river, basically ensuring you wake up almost instantly. It also sucks that whenever you do this, it freaks out if you try to escape its grasp.

× It doesn't let you leave the cell, there's no way it could, so the foundation turns the AC down and makes sure to give you something to cling onto. Least you make it think you're interested in it. Cause as soon as you wrap yourself around it, it'll take hours to get it to stop clinging onto you, practically wailing with all its might, it'd take hours to get you off.

× All it is, all it will ever be is a monster with an animalistic mind. Its version of an obsession, or even love, is flawed and crooked. But your special to it, you can't leave, it won't let you. Cause if you even try, it'll cry and wail and drag you back into its cell, into its arms. And it'll make sure it never lets you go ever again.

[lorei-writes]

Liquid Inferno

Clavis Lelouch Gen Fic Angst-adjacent (?) Word count estimate: 500

My entry for One Suitor, One Prompt CCC by @violettduchess. Something, something, fire water and what not -- on Clavis & sense of inferiority.

Content Warnings: alcohol

Poison, poison, burns my throat, Mommy says I’m still too small. His arm thrown over the shoulder of an elderly servant, Clavis dragged his legs, talon-like fingers grasping his wrist to steady him. His foot nearly slipped off the step. Again. He lifted his lead heavy head, drowsy eyes hurting at each glimpse of the sharply soft light swarmed around the candlestick carried by a maid. The staircase swayed, some wayward sea rocking the palace even as it stood on the solid ground. His stomach churned.

Poison, poison, burns my throat, Mommy says I’m still too small.

His arm thrown over the shoulder of an elderly servant, Clavis dragged his legs, talon-like fingers grasping his wrist to steady him. His foot nearly slipped off the step. Again. He lifted his lead heavy head, drowsy eyes hurting at each glimpse of the sharply soft light swarmed around the candlestick carried by a maid. The staircase swayed, some wayward sea rocking the palace even as it stood on the solid ground. His stomach churned.

“Ada, open the door to His Highness’s room.” Storm broke the calm, waves of his very own, very cold sweat washing over Clavis and pulling him under at once.

“No need,” he slurred, voice firm as he struggled to outshout non-existent thunderclaps.

They’d let him go, left him alone. Just as they should have, just as they could have, as anybody would. Molten yet unchanged, key bent in his hand when pressed into the lock. It turned, however, together with his entire world. Clavis tumbled forward.

Poison, poison, I can drink, burns don’t burn when I don’t think.

Cork slid out of the bottle with an audible pop. White foam climbed the glass neck, perhaps mimicking the boiling concerns trapped in Clavis’ throat; however, only one of them would erupt and thus be voiced. Golden gaze faltered, meek when in presence of effervescent beige. The champagne cooled his fingers, wetted his desk.

Clavis swallowed thickly, threatened by the plink of glass. Neck against rim, the twitch of his arm the falling axe – liquid swirled once inside the cup, its vortex a promise, a siren’s song… A banshee’s cry. Wilfully deaf, Clavis drank.

Practice makes perfect, or so he thought.

Poison, poison, I have drunk, Mommy calls, so it’s good- bye.

His gaze swept over the ballroom from above the rim of his glass. Clavis smiled to himself, his accomplice – grape juice tactfully poured in place of wine – returning the gesture with care. Not that anybody could realise, not from that far away. He sipped it, sweetness gaining a ferrous edge as the high tide began.

Waves of nobles surged, carried forth a fleet of inquiries and requests, perhaps praying for a lighthouse to appear and guide their way. Clavis stifled a laugh. The moonlight they all sought despite most sincere fright would be their demise, its very source the one who’d cast rocks into the shallows in the first place. He merely watched, first pieces of wreckage floating up to the surface, crushed against hard words. His older brother lifted a glass to his lips, displeased ice freezing the coast.

Clavis shook his head. He did not need to watch to know they’d be pulled by the moon, regardless of casualties that might occur… He did not need to, want to, watch for his own sake. His grape juice tasted stale, phantom fire scorching his throat and tongue. Even so, not even liquid inferno would burn as much as the shame of being inferior yet again.

--

Tag list: @lancelotscloak @violettduchess @pathogenic @fang-and-feather @tele86 @rinaririr

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

[prrism]

A Day Meant to Celebrate

Well… it wasn’t finished as soon as I had hoped but at least it’s finished now! (It is currently 12:30am, sleep? Don’t know ‘em)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part ?

Summary: It’s been a year since you first took Techno under your care and you wanted to do something special for the occasion, things don’t go as planned…

Characters: Techno x Reader

Relationship: parental, platonic

Pronouns: unspecified/kept neutral

They say time flies when you’re having fun, and you can sure vouch for that, in fact you didn’t even realize how much time had gone by until you looked at your calendar. You grab a few things from your chests and sort your inventory a bit before you check in on Techno.

“Hey kiddo, how do ya feel about going on a little errand run with me?” You ask nonchalantly. He looks up at you curiously from the blocked he’s playing around with.

“Sounds boring.” He says blankly. You figured he’d say that, you didn’t exactly word it to sound interesting after all.

“Well good thing for me it wasn’t actually a question, you’re still coming along.” This earns you a soft glare from him. “Don’t give me that look. You’re too young to stay here by yourself anyways.” You reply matter-of-factly.

“Why would you ask that if I don’t really get to choose.” He huffs crossing his arms.

“You ask a fair question, and like I said you’re too young right now to stay home alone. But I promise when you get older you can make your own decisions without the need of some authority figure… except for me, of course, because I’m your sensei.” You quickly add the last part while ruffling up his hair, he playfully swats at you in retaliation. When you’re done messing around you both make your way out the door.

As the two of you walk along the path you decide to fill the calm silence by playing a bit of eye spy with Techno, helped give some extra entertainment and keep his spatial awareness sharp. When the village finally came into view Techno picks up the pace.

“Come on, the sooner you finish your boring errands the sooner we can leave.” He says, trying to drag you along, instead you lift him into your arms keeping an even pace, he snorts in displeasure.

“If you can promise me you’ll behave we can head to our favourite lookout spot later. (I almost wanted to call it lookout landing… Zelda has taken over my life 😅)” His eyes light up and he nods in agreement. “Alright, this shouldn’t take too long…”

You regret making that earlier comment because boy did the universe decide to really ruin your day. It started out fine, sure, but the second you saw Tarlin and Jett patrolling the area you should’ve finished your trade and left, of course they just had to spot you and Techno before you could and of course they knew something was suspicious, now there was no running from the commotion they decided to stir up.

“So…” Jett sneered. “Looks like you were hiding something from us after all. And here I thought you were better then that.”

“That’s your fault for assuming something like that.” You reply unbothered, easily angering him, Jett always had a short fuse and you were always willing to push his button should the opportunity arise.

“Why don’t we make this easy for everyone and you hand that thing over.” Tarlin tries to resolve, you being very displeased they’d refer to Techno like he was just an object rather then a living, breathing being.

“First off, HE has a name and second, if you try coming near my son I’ll make sure you suffer a most painful demise before hand delivering your souls to the goddess of death myself.” You hiss, hand twitching above your sword but holding back from summoning it. There’s a tense silence between the three of you, onlookers backing away and watching the scene play out cautiously. Jett looked more then ready to brawl and you’d be happy to oblige if not for Tarlin being a buzzkill and backing the two away.

“Mark my words, you’ll regret betraying us.” They say ominously, you roll your eyes.

“Please, you even try and it’ll be the last thing you do.” You bite in reply, quickly scooping Techno up and making your leave. There’s a long silence as you make as much distance from the village as you can, still tense from the whole encounter.

“Wh-What did they mean by betraying them?” Techno asks, pulling you back to reality.

“That is a long story that happened a long time ago.” You say with a sigh. “But I didn’t really betray anyone, my opinions and morals just don’t match theirs so that instantly makes me their enemy.” You try to explain as simply as possible.

“Oh…” He trails off, clearly still curious about your mysterious past.

“Maybe when you’re a little older I’ll tell it to you.” You offer. “For now why don’t we head to our lookout spot, I’ve got a surprise waiting for you.” This perks his mood back up again at the mention of a surprise.

The rest of the walk is a lot more calmer then earlier and you reach the little cliff side overhang that has a gorgeous view of the landscape below and the best part is that it isn’t too far from your house. You set Techno down and gesture for him to close his eyes, he gives you a confused yet curious look before covering his eyes. You put your hands together, hovering over the item in your inventory.

“Alright open your eyes.” You say smiling, when he does you open your hands summoning the crown you crafted for him. He stares in awe, eyes sparkling and subtle little oinks of joy coming from him at the golden headpiece. He doesn’t instantly take it from you like you anticipated he would, instead tracing a finger over the jewels you had embedded into the design. “I take it you like it?” You ask more rhetorically, earning a pleased snort from the hybrid. You chuckle softly as you carefully place the crown onto his head. “There we go. I want you to see this as a sort of symbol, so that no one can ever tell you what you are or boss you around to do their bidding. You are in charge of your own destiny, no amount of hunters or haters will ever get to change that.” You state proudly, he puffs out his chest just as proudly before the crown slides down over his eyes making you both share a small laugh.

“It’s a little big.” He comments trying to push it back up, you hum contently as you help adjust it a bit so it wouldn’t slide around too much.

“Don’t worry,” you give him a small boop on his nose. “You’ll grow into it.”

Taglist:

@maxismp1

@justmare

@anon-duck

[shadowcatzone]

Here's a few xingyue ones i came up with, don't think to much of them.

___

Xingyue child, tears in their eyes: no please... i don't want to go to the shackling prison... i'll be good i promise...

???: You really are obnoxious. You're just like your father, and will also end up a criminal in the shackling prison, forgotten by everyone.

Xingyue child, falling to their knees: no, no please, please...

___

Xingyue child, running up to jing yuan: Uncle! Uncle...

Jing yuan, grieving: ...what do you want.

Xingyue child: i need your help, uncle, help me please...

Jing yuan: don't call me that... i don't have time for you.

Xingyue child: but... they're bad to me, they-

Jing yuan: I CAN'T SEE YOU RIGHT NOW! GET LOST [XINGYUE]!

___

Xingyue child, trembling: c, can i see auntie- i mean, can you tell jingliu her niece is here?

Cloud knights: niece? now is not a good time. I'd suggest you speak with her when you next meet her.

Xingyue child: b, but, if you'd just tell her-

Cloud knights: listen. Now is REALLY not a good time. I'll let her know her "niece" came here.

Xingyue child: o, okay... thank you...

___

Preceptor: oh, you poor thing. All alone... i'm sure you're SO scared...

Xingyue child: w-well...

Preceptor, smiling: ...how would you like to visit your father? Wouldn't that cheer you up?

Xingyue child, excited: c, can i? Really?

Preceptor, grinning ever wider: of course. Let's get you cleaned and dressed nicely, and i'm sure your father will be elated to see you...

___

Preceptor, grinning: guess what kind of surprise i brought for you today, your ever-dying highness.

Dan feng, chained up, deadpan: i'm sure you thought up another fun way to torture me before my "demise".

Preceptor: oh my! Wether or not that maybe true, you shouldn't use such language in front of children... don't you think?

Dan feng: ...what? What do you mean? ...you didn't-

Preceptor, euphoric: i've brought dear [xingyue] because she seemed so lonely! Come in dear!

Dan feng, panicked: no-

Xingyue child, skipping in: father! I m-

Dan feng: DON'T! [XINGYUE], DON'T LOOK AT ME!

Xingyue child, freezes up, stares at the ground: i... i missed you...

Dan feng, conflicted: ...i didn't.

Xingyue child: um, fa-

Dan feng: don't call me that. ...I thought i was finally rid of you.

Xingyue child: what, ...what does that mean.

Dan feng, close to tears: ...you don't seem to understand, let me be honest... *sighs* you... i only kept you around because of yingxing. If you're not with him... you don't need to bother showing your face. Get lost.

Xingyue child: but-

Dan feng, coldly: this is my last warning. Nobody will miss you, and i'm already convicted. One more crime won't make a difference.

Preceptor, gleefully: oh, so cold, your highness. Then, how about i discard this thing on the side of a road?

Dan feng: do as you will.

___

Xingyue child: w-wait, just tell me something. Do you know where my- where yingxing is?

Preceptor: hm? Oh, i've heard he's having a lot of fun on his own. It seems your precious auntie is taking her frustrations out on him. Killing him over and over again... *grins* and he doesn't have the luxury of dying.

Xingyue child, wide-eyed: w-what? No that can't be! You're lying to me!

Preceptor: then why don't you ask her yourself? Oh, that's right, she refused to see you didn't she?

Xingyue: she... she didn't refuse... she's just busy...

Preceptor: that's not wrong... face it. If she'd wanted to see you, she would've told the cloud knights to let you in, don't you think?

Xingyue: bu... but...

___

Cloud knights: *sigh* listen. She didn't have the time yet. How about you wait for her to reach out-?

Xingyue child: then, what about my dad? Yingxing is here, isn't he?

Cloud knights: -? Uhh...

Jingliu, moving around a corner: who told you that?

Xingyue child: the preceptors told me!

Jingliu: listen. I'll say it just once. I don't want to see you here again- and yingxing will not meet with you either. Go home.

Xingyue child: but-

Jingliu: am i speaking too quiet? Or did i stutter? Did i just say, i WON'T repeat myself?

Cloud knights: ...you did.

Jingliu: get lost, [xingyue].

___

Dan heng, carrying xingyue child: you mean to tell me. Every single one of you told [xingyue] to get lost. And not a single one of you checked to make sure if they were in serious danger?

Jing yuan: it's... not that simple... we were... all, kind of... grieving... of course i'm sorry-

Dan heng: you're really lucky that me and dan feng are two separate people. He would've kicked your asses off the luofu. AT LEAST.

Jingliu, sitting in and facing the corner: i only did what was asked.

Dan heng: and then you repeatedly killed his husband. I bet he'd have been thrilled.

Xingyue child: i'm sorry...

Dan heng: stop apologizing it's not your fault. Seriously, people, [xingyue] was his baby, weren't they? You knew, no matter what he said, he loved this child!

Blade: ...i remember none of this and am therefore not responsible.

Dan heng: yes i know this and i love you. Back to the point-

___

Yanqing: i thought vidyadhara can't have kids.

Xingyue child: how old are you?

Yanqing: 14?

Xingyue child: the high elder can. Once per incarnation they can... hmm... create an egg.

Yanqing: literally how though.

Xingyue child: like everyone else i suppose. Uh. Vidyadhara magic. Maid costumes. And, lots of sweat?

Yanqing: ...are you worried wether or not i know about sex?

Xingyue child: oh thank god. Yeah, they had sex and dan feng laid an egg.

Yanqing: ...an egg???

Xingyue child: ...it's complicated.

_____

:P

[archiveikemen]

Liam Evans Main Story: Chapter 11

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by downloading and playing their games.

read this before interacting with my posts

Kate: Over here … Please lend me a hand!

Kate: You’ll be alright, Liam. … We’ll take you to Roger right away.

…

A few hours after Liam was brought to the castle, he woke up covered in wounds.

Liam: … Uh… I…

Roger: You’re finally awake, you foolish cat. The young lady is on her way to report to Victor about tonight’s incident.

Roger: You should be grateful towards her. She was the one who asked Harry and El for help with carrying you all the way back here.

Liam: … I see, so it was Kate. Haha… I still became a bother to her in the end.

Roger: I’m not the least bit interested in whatever that's about, but I heard what happened while I was treating you.

Roger: You were beaten up for getting handsy with a woman. This is what you get for always giving in to other people's demands.

Liam: … I know that.

Roger: … Huh?

Liam’s eyes turned downcast and a shadow fell over his face.

Liam: It’s easier for me to fulfil other people’s desires, than to fulfil my own… much, much, easier.

Liam: Doesn't it make everyone happy when I fulfil all their desires…?

Liam: That’s why I live my life doing everything others tell me to…

Liam: However… Kate is different. I find myself willingly giving everything to her, and she doesn't ask me for anything.

Roger: …

Liam: And that isn’t all. … She even asked me, “what do YOU want, Liam?”

Liam: But I… I couldn't give her a good answer.

Liam: Until now, that still bothers me.

Roger: It bothers you…?

Liam: All I want… is to make Kate smile.

Liam: I promised that I would shine brighter on stage for her.

Roger: …

Roger ruffled Liam’s hair with brusque hands.

Liam: Wah…

Roger: Focus on healing your injuries first.

Roger: Only after you’ve recovered, then you can think about those things with that tiny brain of yours.

Liam: … Haha. You’re so harsh, Roger.

Roger: Little too late to realise that, no?

…

After taking Liam to Roger with the help of Harrison and Elbert, I went to Victor’s office in the royal palace to report to him about tonight's series of events.

Victor: … I see. Thank you for taking Liam home, Miss Kate.

Victor: I’ve heard some information about the culprit who sold the information on Liam’s past…

Victor: There have been some suspicious movements around him lately.

Kate: Also, I have something to show you. Here—

I took the letter out of my pocket and handed it to Victor.

“— You are a sinner. Admit to your sins and pray that you will cause your own demise.”

Victor: This letter…

Kate: It was amongst a bunch of fan letters sent to The Scala.

Kate: Due to the content of the letter, I kept it away so that Liam wouldn’t see it…

Kate: I had some sort of premonition that this would turn into an even larger issue if I kept it to myself, so now I’m showing it to you.

Victor: … I see.

Victor: I’m grateful that you decided to keep the letter away for Liam’s sake. Thank you, Kate.

Victor: …

Victor: Leave this letter to me. I have a few things on my mind… and can I share about this with William?

Kate: Yes, of course. Please take care of it.

Victor: Yeah.

Victor: — At any rate, Liam suffered many fresh wounds. I wish he’d take better care of himself.

Victor’s tone was full of affection, like a parent worried about his child.

(... Come to think of it, didn’t Liam say that he was scouted by Victor to join Crown?)

Kate: Why did you invite Liam to join Crown?

Victor: Hm? Why, you ask?

Kate: He told me that you were recruiting people born with curses to help fight evil with evil.

Kate: I’m sure there must be other people with curses, apart from the members of Crown… so I’m wondering what your criteria was.

Victor: Hmm, that's a very good question. You’re definitely right about the existence of other cursed people in England.

Victor raised his beautiful index finger.

Victor: Firstly, I have to be certain that the person I’m intending to recruit is indeed a cursed person.

Victor: I don’t have supernatural powers. I wouldn’t have approached him in the first place if I wasn't certain.

Victor: And finally, this is the most important criteria in my opinion — there must be a lack of freedom in his heart.

Kate: Lack of freedom…?

Victor: Kate, what do you think is something a person absolutely needs to survive…?

I was suddenly reminded of something Liam said to me back when we first met, something about “the very core of the heart”.

Kate: I think… the most important thing someone needs in order to survive is to protect what’s hidden in the very core of their heart.

Kate: If that part of them is hurt or damaged… it'll surely make their life difficult to live.

Victor: That’s right. … Yeah, I agree with your thinking.

Victor: … To me, the most important thing someone needs for survival is “freedom”.

Kate: Freedom…

Victor: Freedom has many forms. But in this case, let’s define it as the right for someone to live as their heart pleases.

Victor’s eyes that resembled a pair of gemstones and usually had a harmless sparkle in them, suddenly darkened.

Victor: To me… it seemed that Liam had lost all of that.

Kate: Victor…

Victor: And that’s why I was so pushy about recruiting him! I told myself that I would never let him go.

Victor: Liam is cool, lovely, and sexy. I fell in love with him at first sight!

I smiled and nodded, knowing that Victor’s smile was out of kindness.

Kate: … I’m sure Liam was glad to have met you, and he certainly is still grateful for that.

Victor: Kate. Once your time as a fairytale writer comes to an end, you will have the “freedom” to decide what you want to do afterwards.

Kate: … Yes.

Victor: I’d be glad if you would keep that in mind.

…

When I stepped out into the hallway, I saw my face reflected in the window.

(As for what decision I’ll make when I’m done with my role as a fairytale writer… honestly, I don't know yet.)

— But for now, I want to stay by Liam’s side.

That was an undeniable fact.

And that was not because I wanted to give back to Liam for everything he had done for me, but because “I” wanted it.

(I still haven't found the right words to say to him…)

Victor told me that Liam would be exempted from Crown’s activities until his injuries were healed.

(Oh, that's RIGHT—)

…

The next day, I woke up slightly earlier to prepare packed lunch for two people, and went to get Liam.

Kate: This way, this way. Here, come inside.

Liam: … The dance hall?

Liam looked around the dance hall that was usually used for parties.

I smiled at him and quickly took out the freshly made lunch—

Kate: Shall we have a picnic in the castle today?

Liam: Huh?

Kate: I’ve been thinking about it ever since the first time I saw this place. I thought that it’d be amazing to have a meal in such a large space.

Liam: …

Liam: Ahaha! Of course I’d love to. So this packed lunch is meant to be a sweetener?

Kate: Yes! Exactly.

Liam and I looked at each other and giggled. We then sat down in the middle of the dance hall to have our lunch.

We chatted about all sorts of little things, like the way my typewriter hadn't been working well lately, and which shop’s desserts were the best.

Liam: Fufu, I’m excited because this feels like I’m doing something I shouldn't. Also, this packed lunch is the most delicious I’ve ever had!

Liam: Thanks for inviting me, Kate.

(... This is great. He’s smiling.)

Kate: Since you went along with my plan…

Kate: If there's ever anything you want to do, let's do it together.

Liam: … ah.

Kate: Whatever you want to do, even if it's a little bit bad, I’ll gladly go with you.

Perhaps he had a specific reason for always neglecting and turning a blind eye to his own desires.

However, if that was what shaped Liam as a person, it’d be too overbearing to expect him to change.

(Therefore, I’ll be the one to accept it whenever Liam has something he wants.)

(That’s the only thing I can think of right now.)

Liam: … Why are you being so nice to me, Kate?

Kate: … Because you’re precious to me, so isn't it a given?

Liam: … Precious?

Kate: We’ve been spending a lot of time together ever since I got here.

Kate: During those times, you’ve given me a lot. Kindness, courage… those are irreplaceable things.

On the very first night, I was overwhelmed by fear and anxiety. But Liam stayed by my side, protecting my heart.

He took me to his performances, reminded me of a near forgotten dream, and “flew” in the air with me in his arms.

The things he gave me were as many as the stars in the sky, and I wanted to give back to him even just a little.

Kate: Of course I’d cherish someone like you.

Kate: And regardless of what the future brings, you will always be precious to me, Liam.

Kate: You will always, always, be.

Liam: … Always?

Kate: Such feelings of cherishing a person will not disappear easily. I’m sure of it.

Liam: … Ggh.

Liam tightly grasped my little finger resting on the floor, as if at a loss because of what I had said.

Kate: … Liam?

Liam: … You truly are an unusual person, Kate.

Kate: I am?

Liam: Yeah.

Liam: But still… thank you.

His thanks made my chest tighten tenderly.

Kate: … Mm, you’re welcome.

(Someday.)

(I hope I can share the burden that’s in Liam’s heart.)

— A few days later, I received a letter from Marie, whom I had been keeping in contact with.

It said “let’s meet up. I have something for you”.

When I arrived at the cafe Marie told me to meet her at, she was already seated and waiting for me.

Kate: I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.

Marie: It’s fine, my apologies for the sudden invitation to meet in person.

Kate: Um… what is it that you wanted to give me?

Marie: … This.

Marie: I know this won’t be enough to pay for my sins, but I thought that you’d need this.

What Marie offered me was…

— A stack of letters addressed to her, from Jacob.

Marie: Reading these letters will give you a little understanding of Liam’s past.

[sgiandubh]

Jottings: Season 7, episode 6. A woman is... possibility

Contrary to what I usually do in here, just jotting down spontaneous impressions of the episodes, with no great pretension to anything, I had to re-watch Where The Waters Meet three times over last week. And it was all my fault, because this is truly a good and dense episode, that could have very well ended this half-season.

It also becomes more and more clear that my decision of not reading these damn books was a very poor choice. Probably because the storyline seems cramped, at times, I find myself gliding through moments and scenes with the very unpalatable sensation of bagging a munro without the right equipment. Not a good picture, I know. But bear in mind I just started Drums of Autumn and it already reads like a root canal intervention - sorry for the book purists. I should, however, hope to somehow catch up before part B of the season: no promises, though. If, by any stretch of my vivid imagination, I start to hear Herself's screechy voice in my head while reading, it immediately goes down the drain, despite my best intentions & effort.

But I digress. While Fort Ticonderoga is being evacuated with the help of the friendly Cherokees and their lightweight canoes, in Lallybroch there is a bit of fussing over Jemmy's cursing in Gaelic at school. Which leads to Roger being invited to give a wee lecture on the topic by a very enthusiastic Headmaster and yet another (Lord in heaven and all His cherubs) constipated domestic conversation with SS. The only cheerful thing about her is that self-assertive fringe, so 80s I could cry (I hate the Eighties with the passion I worship the Sixties, heh). And her grabbing me by the sleeve (Hello, people! Lookie here! I can haz acting! I am acting! ) every single time she has more than three lines on air is distracting and, again, annoying.

Walter Woodcock's demise instantly took me to Season 1, when that proud Scot was killed by the boar and Claire helped give him the good death he deserved. Not surprising at all, since the whole OL dynamic is a pendulum between loves, timelines and worlds.

The new Rollo dog looks less direwolfish than Rollo 1. #GoT, stopped watching upon Khaleesi's arrival at King's Landing. Never looked back.

Rob Cameron, you antagonist, you. That new acquaintance you instantly find too pushy not to feel suspicious about, and yet you can't afford to be irrationally rude to. Also, with no SS in sight, RR is pulling off his scenes quite fine & dandy, and with ease. What is that woman's dark secret? How can that be? Court is still in session, on this one. But give me more Hunters and less #Broger, dear God. I would take it any day, any way you see fit. I will be nice to everyone and take my vitamins. I will even consider jogging. But get them off my back, for Christ's sake!

Vandervaart. Consistent. Present. Owns his game. Elegant. Loved every single moment (Your servant, Madam - especially and for obvious reasons). A very, very good cast honoring both J and LJG. I can only fawn and paeans are not really my specialty. But I continue to be impressed and confident and I see great things for this talented kid.

Spoiler: I said yes, Claire. And just like that, with the click of the rifle's hammer, he tells her their whole world is yet again thrown upside down. Theirs is a dense scene, clearly dominated by S, whose mastery of voice and expression is once again flawless and thoroughly appreciated. She follows, at a - by now - completely symbiotic pace, but make no mistake: he gives her the cues. And I would take that subtle, unspeakable tenderness any day, gladly, if the writer's final choice was not to insist on what might be - perhaps unjustly - construed by some as geriatric porn. He still looks at her like that.

For that only, if not for all the rest, I will continue to watch it until the end. Because I feel you morally lose the right to criticize the moment you throw the towel and your opinion suddenly turns into bitching. Something I will most probably never do, as far as OL is concerned.

Onwards to Dreaded Seven. Let's see if I can be properly disgusted by poor acting yet again.

Credit given to @flllk. B&W is a great idea - the right kind of depth