#I am eating it. I wish it was longer but alas

[carcarrot]

am i allowed to have not great teeth if i just ask really niceys

[usetheeauthor]

Kinktober Day 16: Facesitting + Pregnancy

Burned!Aegon II Targaryen x Hightower!Mistress!Reader

Summary: On the verge of losing you, Aegon shows you just how valuable his mouth can be to serve you.

Warnings: 18+ smut, oral sex/facesitting, passionate sex, sloppy kisses, pregnant!reader, targcest, implied age gap, aegon calls reader “auntie” so auntie kink, cum-eating, finger sucking, fingering, lactation kink, pathetic!softdom!aegon, some dub-con elements, mutual orgasm (phantom orgasm for aegon), no c*ck!aegon, pregnant body worship, nipple play, brief thigh humping, surprise guest: Larys being a creeper

You watch him being fed with a scowl on your face. He looks so pathetic now. Whimpering and groaning in bed after nearly costing his loyal men the battle by being stupidly reckless.

There are many things you regret and his frail condition is a constant reminder of those faults. Never should you have laid in bed with Aegon II Targaryen, your half-sister Alicent’s son—your nephew. And should you have been tempted to befall the Targaryen’s incestuous sins than rather it have been with the mightier Aemond Targaryen.

A pity that you’ve done so all in the pursuit to bear a babe with hair of silver simply because you admired the beauty of a family you’d once heard bedtime stories about, dreaming that one day you’d marry your dragon prince. But, alas, the Gods did not have this in your favor and to spite them you lusted. Your punishment: you’ll have your silver-haired babe…however your supposedly beautiful dragon prince was now incapacitated. He is not used to you. And now that there’s been whispers of Queen Rhaenyra planning an attack on King’s Landing, it was about time for you to disappear and live life somewhere comfortable. Like Essos.

You hoped to be free of all this. All the mess your father has caused and risked your family’s extinction. But then you learned of Larys’ plans to quietly leave for Essos with Aegon and you fumed at the thought of being haunted by this war despite the distance.

You waited as the caretakers filed out of the room so you could have a moment alone with the broken man, arms crossed to your chest you paced to and fro.

Aegon is first to speak, a small smile on his face. “Darlin’, I was worried I wouldn’t receive a visit from you again. You’ve not entered my chambers in days. Months. Is it that you could not stomach seeing me this way? In such pain?”

You roll your eyes at his arrogance, walking over to his bedside. “You’re correct in the sense that I did not wish to see you in this light. But it isn’t for reasons regarding seeing you in pain. Rather I refused to see how weak you’ve become. I feared it to be detrimental to my health which in turn could affect the babe. I’ve finally gained the courage to do so because in a way I’ve been blessed and cursed by the Gods. You’re no longer the man I desired and yet I still carry your child. That is my punishment. But I’ve been blessed to be free of my desires for you and the���customs of your family.”

Aegon could only watch you with wet eyes at your confession. He searches your features pleadingly, hoping he can find deception in them. You couldn’t possibly feel this way towards him. You love him! He knows you do. You wouldn’t fuck him the way you did. You wouldn’t have held him the way you did. He knows you care.

You straighten up before slowly inching away. “I’ll be taking my leave at dawn—”

“No, no, no, no….” He chants over and over like a broken record, grunting as he sat up in his bed to reach for your hand and squeezing it tight. “You cannot leave me! I am your King! And I command you to stay by my side. You carry my child; the possible heir—”

“I’ve done no such thing.” You hiss.

“B-but you said…” He says, trailing off to stare at your protruding belly.

“As far as we’re both concerned, this depravity between you and I has never transpired. No one will ever know—”

“Please, no!” He cries, tears finally streaming down his face. They sting as they trail along the open wounds running across one half of his face but nothing could hurt in comparison to your rejection. “Don’t leave me. I do not wish to be alone. Everyone’s left me. Helaena, my grandfather, my hand, my mother, b-brother—you’re all I have left.”

“I will not take this responsibility,” You say, ripping your hand from him. “You have Larys. I know of your plans to leave for Essos. To walk amongst the ashes once the dust settles. I no longer have it in me to remain complicit to this war. I will raise my child somewhere where they shall never have to fear the weight of the crown.”

“Please, Auntie,” Aegon sobs, trembling. “I love you.”

“That’s unfortunate.” You whisper, turning your back on him.

You hear a loud cry behind you and all of a sudden you feel a pair of arms wrapped around your upper torso just below your bosom, holding you firmly.

“Let me go.” You hiss through gritted teeth, gripping his injured arm tightly but he simply yells out and holds you tighter.

“I can still be of use to you, Auntie. Maybe I cannot provide you with any more children but I’d live the rest of my life serving you, pleasing you.” He says, wet face pressed against your back.

“I require no such thing from the likes of you!” You whine, squirming and kicking.

Aegon pins you to his bed, placing wet kisses all over your exposed neck as you try to fight him off. He works on disrobing your clothes and you slowly give in to him, biting and sucking on his bottom lip while he tries to tear off your clothes. It takes him sometime as his fingers shook—-whether it was from pain or impatience you aren’t sure.

While you pull your dress off from over your head, he continues to trail kisses down your body. Aegon pays special attention to your round belly, one hand rubbing it tenderly. His free hand glides between the valley of your breasts, before clawing at the nearest breast. His fingers gently pull and flick at a hardened nub and it tears a guttural moan from your lips. You’re incredibly sensitive there.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers against your stomach, snaking up your body again to capture your nipple in his mouth. Your back arches, hands entangling in his hair while being cautious not to dig your nails in his scalp.

Aegon slurps. He drinks of your sweet milk that flows graciously from your teat. It spills from the corners of his mouth as he gratefully moans and whines against you.

“Oh, Aegon, I love you. I still love you,” You mewl, grinding down on his thigh between your legs. “I’m so sorry.”

He shows you that he accepts your apology, sticking his tongue in your mouth once more. You can taste your milk on his tongue, sucking on it earnestly.

His fingers part the fabric that separates your wet pussy from him and once he tests the waters—running a ringed finger through your folds—he plunges his longest finger inside you and immediately begins to work.

You gasp and his hand in your hair forces you to look in his eyes, to stare at his partially burnt yet still beautiful face. His mouth falls open after how tight and wet you are, missing that feeling of you around his cock. But somehow, it’s as if he can feel a phantom sense of pleasure coursing through his body.

He mimics your cries. Every whine, whimper and gasp thrown back at you until it’s as if he were competing with you.

Just as you felt like you were on the brink of cumming, he pulls his finger out of you and displays it over your face as if to brag. Your sticky wetness drips from the thick digit and you stick your tongue out to capture the essence on your tongue. Impatiently, you grip his wrist with both hands, lowering it to your mouth so you can suck on his middle finger as if it were the tastiest treat. You don’t even care about the metallic taste of his ring or the way he clashes against your teeth.

“My beautiful Auntie,” He praises with a groan. “I knew you could never leave your king. God, I need to suffocate between your legs. I’d die a happy man.”

He positions himself against his level pillows and beckons you towards him. “Please, love, I need you to ride my face.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You say, brushing strands of hair that clung to his sweaty tear-stained face.

“You could never. No matter how hard you try,” He says with a warm smile. “I’ll always know you care.”

He sinks his finger into the thick of your thigh like a quiet order and you soon oblige, crawling over his body before making your way to hover over his face.

He lets out yet another thankful whine before he begins feasting on you. One arm coils around your thigh to keep you in place and bring your weight fully against him while the other trails up and down your naked body.

The pleasure becomes so overwhelming that you begin to grind and roll your hips against his face and he’s pleased beyond his reach, tears of joy prickling the corners of his eyes.

“Aegon! Fuck…p-please.” You’re sobbing now, holding onto his hair for dear life.

Your milk begins to flow once more, streaming down your body and in between your legs. The mixture of your honeyed juices along with your milk is an intoxicating concoction that has Aegon humping the air.

“I’m close! Oh, Gods, I’m going to cum all over your pretty face.”

“Yes, cummm, Auntie. Cum for me. Mmm.” Aegon hums eagerly. now both of his large hands held you down against him.

It’s as if he feels your pleasure through him, too, because the moment your eyes cross and you gush into his mouth. He begins to tremor and moan as well.

Both your sobs and gasps battle out until they mingle into one symphony. You continue to ride him until you’re satisfied that the aftershocks have ceased.

Pulling off of him, you immediately check on his well-being, cupping his face in your hands and examining him on each side. He laughs, placing a hand over yours.

“Relax, I’m just fine. Maybe a little sore but that comes with a territory,” He says before sighing happily. “How does life in Essos sound? You, me, our child…away from the war. Fuck it all.”

You smile, shaking your head as you aren’t sure whether he’s being serious or not but nonetheless you kiss the top of his forehead.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Larys had been listening in the whole time, peeping through the crack of the door at your sensual tryst. Cum soils his hands as he stared at them angrily once he’s gained the clarity to see you as a threat to his standing.

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Season 2 Chapter 59 Translation [Lucien’s Route (2/3)]

⚠️  SPOILER ALERT  ⚠️

This post contains a VERY HEAVY SPOILER for the chapter that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

"Perhaps we won't be able to see each other tomorrow"... could he have already foreseen tonight's situation?

I will never allow anyone to hurt Lucien.

Translation under the cut!

[Previous Part-> Click Here]

—[Lucien's Route - 6: Crimson Stained Pool]—

Baldhead: Hey, you've all seen it, right? Tonight, we're going to kill that uncle!

As soon as night falls, Baldhead eagerly states his intention. We follow him towards the older man's room, but Mousy looks a bit confused.

Mousy: Why... is there something wrong with that uncle?

Baldhead: How can you be so dumb! That old man is indeed very active in discussions, and just like X said, it seems like he wants to have some control over the conversation.

Baldhead: But later, he didn't raise his hand immediately. Didn't you find that strange?

MC: Mm... it seems like he's a seer who isn't good at hiding his identity, subconsciously excluding himself from the "people who need to be verified.”

Baldhead: Not bad. MC gets it.

Baldhead: That old man is too unfamiliar with the game. He doesn't realize that we are watching every move he makes. Got it?

Under Baldhead's forceful words, Mousy only dares to nod timidly and follows our steps forward.

Tonight's operation was very successful. Everything goes smoothly, from opening the door to throwing the uncle into the pool.

Sweeping away the strange events of last night, the three of us werewolves see a look of satisfaction on each other's faces.

The clear water surface is dyed red again, and the pool emits that inexplicable light before dimming. I look at my two teammates.

MC: Today, I was the first to raise my hand. The others probably won't suspect me too much. So I plan to…

MC: ...take the uncle's place and act as the seer.

✂———————–

The next morning, there's a knock on the door again. I open it and effortlessly slip into the embrace of the person standing there.

MC: Hmm, I feel like my headache has eased... Is Professor Lucien still acting as the alarm clock in the game?

Lucien rubs my head and, seeing that I am indeed much better than yesterday, sighs softly and holds me even tighter.

Lucien: [chuckles softly] Yes. It's a hidden feature that's only available to a certain little lady who worries me.

I smile and bury my face in his chest. His shirt presses against my cheek, and his warm body temperature melts away all my stress.

Whenever I embrace Lucien, it seems I can break free from my werewolf role and reconnect with the real world.

At this moment, I only wish this moment could last a little longer.

✂———————–

When the butler knocks on the door for the third time, I reluctantly pull Lucien out of bed.

[....is 'doing it' possible in VR. anw man really sneak out so early to sleep together with her hjdfjhdfjdf-]

MC: Alas, it's time to go to the banquet hall for another "meeting" again~

MC: Such a magnificent banquet hall. It would be so nice just to eat and drink inside, but it's always a war of words every time.

Lucien straightens my crooked collar, unable to hold back a smile as he takes over the conversation.

Lucien: [chuckles] Indeed, it seems that in this villa, being the "butler" is much happier than being the "guest.”

Lucien: They neither "lose their life" nor miss the chance to enjoy the sea view every day.

As we pass the uncle's room, I see his name has already been crossed off the door plate. Lucien and I don't stop; we head straight to the banquet hall.

After the luncheon begins, I take a deep breath and stand up.

MC: Everyone, I am actually... a seer.

I say these words rather haltingly. Although I don't look at Lucien, I can feel his scrutinizing gaze.

.......This is really nerve-wracking; I'm so anxious.

Almost everyone present holds their breath, watching me and waiting for my words. I compose my expression, speaking in a serious tone.

MC: On the first night, I checked White Angel. She is a good person, so I didn't rush to reveal my identity.

MC: And yesterday, the uncle was very active but didn't raise his hand immediately, so I found him suspicious.

MC: I checked him last night, and the result showed he was human. I planned to clear his name today but didn't expect him to become the werewolves' target.

MC: Although I haven't identified a werewolf yet, I'm afraid that if I don't reveal my identity today, I might be replaced by a werewolf…

Baldhead: Wait a minute, you say you're the seer? Who knows if it's true or not!

Baldhead: Is there another seer here? If so, speak up!

Baldhead questioned me as I planned to solidify my identity. Sure enough, no one else steps forward.

.......We bet correctly! The uncle really was the true seer!

I try to control my racing heartbeat and calmly observe the reactions of the others.

Angel: If MC were lying, the actual seer would have come forward. There's no mistake. She is the seer.

White Angel is a petite girl. After speaking, she looks at me with a smile, her eyes showing evident affection and trust.

I smile back at her, barely able to contain the overwhelming joy inside me.

Let's let it unfold this way. Now that there's no one to contradict it, no one can expose this "lie" that has become an established fact!

Joker: Anyone could be a wolf, and everyone could be lying.

Joker speaks coldly, pouring cold water on my overwhelming joy without mercy.

Joker: To place all your trust in an unverifiable statement is the height of foolishness.

MC: …..

I secretly grit my teeth. I know that he wouldn't let me off the hook so easily!

I hold back my anger and calmly return a smile at him, but suddenly, a long-haired man on my right side stands up.

Long-haired man: My intuition tells me that MC is lying. We should vote her out!

MC: …..?

Long-haired man: When she mentioned the inspection results, it was as smooth as if she had rehearsed it. Her emotions were clearly acted out!

His eyes are filled with conviction, and his tone is rhythmic and compelling…

If only his rousing words weren't directed at me.

I nervously organize my rebuttal, and even my breathing becomes messy.

How come so many people in this game seem to have mind-reading abilities? How are we ordinary people supposed to keep playing?!

Lucien: Can you listen to my thoughts first?

At that moment, Lucien suddenly breaks the stalemate, standing between me and the long-haired man like a fair and just judge.

Lucien: Voting for execution is the only way to punish the wolf in the game. You can't make a decision based solely on revealed roles or doubts.

Lucien: However, the associated risks cannot be ignored. So, for this vote, please consider which person would benefit the current human faction more.

His words are neither biased nor include his judgment; he simply organizes everyone's thoughts.

I look at Lucien; his gaze is as clear as ever, without any unnecessary emotions.

Because of my prolonged gaze, he even tilts his head slightly as if asking me what's wrong.

I force a smile at him, trying my best to ignore the strange feeling in my heart.

Lucien... he must be secretly speaking up for me, right?

After all, under his guidance, the focus of the discussion has shifted from whether my role as a seer is real or fake to whether the long-haired man or I should be voted for.

The long-haired man clearly did not expect to become a suspect himself, and his voice is filled with frustration.

Long-haired man: I've been a stage actor; you shouldn't doubt my professional judgment! Do you think I can't tell the difference between acting and reality?

After a moment of silence in the room, Zhao Jianqiang, whose nameplate read “Strongman” ("Qiang Lai Le"), cautiously glanced at me and spoke.

[T/N: so……… how do I explain this joke? "Qiang Lai Le" comes from the phrase "你的强来了" (nǐ de qiáng láile), which literally means "Your strength is here." It's a buzzword that roughly translates to "I'm here to support you." This perfectly coincides with Zhao Jianqiang stepping in to support the MC right on time~]

Zhao Jianqiang: But if you're an actor, shouldn't your acting skills be better? According to what you're saying, you yourself seem more suspicious…

Angel: The person that she checked last night died this morning, and she still needs to disclose their identity. If it were me, I would also need to prepare a statement in advance.

Granmeow: Reality isn't a script. It's natural for people to get nervous when they're suspected.

The man with long hair's face turns extremely unpleasant. No matter how much he argues, others only become more firm in their thoughts.

The final outcome is beyond doubt; he becomes today's victim.

This time, people left the banquet hall early, one after another. After all, no one wants to see such cruel scenes again.

I turn around and take a glance. The man with long hair has already disappeared into the pool. I then turn back and walk towards Lucien.

Lucien doesn't mention the "bloodbath" at the banquet. He simply raises his arm, inviting me to join him.

Lucien: There's still some time until nightfall. Do you want to explore the mansion together?

MC: Of course!

I loop my arm through his, deciding to cast aside the worries in my heart and savor the rare moment of being together with Lucien.

Outside the window, the clouds press lower and lower, blending the sky and the sea into one in the mist.

✂———————–

—[Lucien's Route - 7: Unspoken Feelings]—

Lucien and I walk along the intricately decorated corridors of the mansion, occasionally encountering other players who are also searching.

When we run into Zhao Jianqiang, I notice his complexion is a bit pale.

MC: [worriedly] Why do you look so pale? Do you need to rest?

Zhao Jianqiang: I'm fine, boss, just a bit of a headache…

MC: .......I also feel a headache, "Carnival Night" is quite a brain teaser to play.

I make sure he doesn't have any other symptoms for the time being and reluctantly feel a bit relieved. After asking the butler to help him rest, I continue on my way.

Although the mansion covers a vast area, there isn't much valuable information to be found.

Lucien and I stroll to the master's room. The tightly closed door is pushed open, and the heavy, wet sound echoes for a long time.

We both instinctively hold our breath and stand still.

In the pure white space, all that can be seen are clear waters. Rather than a bedroom, this place resembles an abandoned swimming pool.

The pool water gently ripples as if whispering or subtly warning, exuding an indescribable sense of cold and desolate beauty.

The snow-white walls and the bottom of the pool reflect a cool-toned light, and the space ahead seems like an endless liminal space.

Standing at the pool's edge, I suddenly feel an inexplicable attraction and deep fear, almost uncontrollably wanting to step into the water.

A hand wraps around my waist from behind, lifting me slightly off the ground. My toes trace a light circle in the air before I return to the floor.

MC: ….!

It is only then that I come to my senses and look at Lucien.

His gaze falls on the calm and mysterious blue pool water, then he looks at me and blinks somewhat pitifully.

Lucien: Does this lady want to explore alone and not take me with her?

Whenever Lucien speaks to me in this tone, my heart becomes completely soft.

So, I quickly dip my hand into the pool and sprinkle some water near Lucien.

MC: How could I not? Of course, I have to bring our Mr. Hunter along!

MC: I always feel like this mansion is so mysterious... Maybe there are some secrets hidden deep in this room as well.

MC: Will you go into the water with me to take a look?

Lucien and I intertwine our fingers together, and we slowly step into the pool, letting the cool water surround our ankles.

Step by step, we move forward. The pool water gradually rises to our knees, then our waists, gently pushing against our bodies as if guiding us to go deeper.

Lucien: Be careful, there are steps here.

After stepping over the underwater steps, the water reaches just below my chest. This is nearly the lowest point of the room, and my foot suddenly hits something hard.

Lucien reaches out and retrieves it. It's a metal box filled with yellowed pages that seem out of place in this mansion.

What is even more surprising is that the pages are completely dry, and they recorded some legends about an ancient underwater god and some incomprehensible ancient rituals.

A secluded mansion built by the seaside, with water visible everywhere inside, had an execution method of throwing people into the pool…

A series of clues appeared in my mind, and although they seem all related to my personal mission, they still leave me a little puzzled.

I hide my thoughts and cautiously phrase my question to Lucien.

MC: I don't quite fully understand all this information. Could this mansion be related to some kind of water ritual?

In the boundless pool, cool-toned light dances around us. The surroundings are so silent that only our faint breathing and the rippling of the water can be heard.

Lucien spreads out his hands and reaches into the pool water as if feeling this calm yet eerie expanse.

Lucien: These texts describe an ancient water ritual, and the design of the water channels in this mansion is also related to it.

He gently scoops up a handful of water and lets it fall back down, causing the light and shadows in the water to shift accordingly.

Lucien: I guess that with each person pushed into the water, a part of the ritual is completed.

MC: ...No wonder, when those people fell into the water, it was as if they were swallowed up by something, and the water emitted light!

Lucien: Hmm. So as long as we can draw the design of all the water channels connected in this mansion, we might be able to understand some things.

A meaningful smile appears on his lips, making me unable to resist asking further questions.

MC: Understand what?

Lucien: The truth behind the ongoing werewolf killings in this villa, the consequences of completing the ritual, and…

Lucien: The reason why the mansion's owner has yet to appear.

I am listening intently to his deductions while secretly plotting how to sacrifice everyone in the ritual.

But upon hearing the last sentence, I suddenly feel so guilty that I almost buckle and fall into the water. Quickly, I lower my head and change the subject.

MC: T-this is so dangerous! Let's quickly map out the pool structures in all the rooms and have everyone look for patterns together.

Lucien, who is standing in front of me, says nothing. When I look up, I realize he is silently gazing at me, his expression stern and cold.

Lucien: There is another possibility; perhaps we won't be able to see each other tomorrow.

MC: ….

I understand what Lucien means. Given his role as a hunter and outstanding performance over the past few days, tonight, he will likely be the werewolves' target.

I look at his faint, acquiescent expression, and suddenly, a heaviness settles in my heart.

I know that Lucien must have noticed my unusual behavior long ago.

I have never been good at lying in front of him. He must have already discovered the nights I secretly hid and the moments I was startled by my own cruelty.

I don't know how to respond to him. I should appear worried, but I want to tell him that the vicious "werewolf" never intended to kill him.

I also don't know whether I should continue enduring alone and playing this slightly strange role or be honest with him about everything.

Various possibilities tug at my mind, leaving me frozen in place. I don't know what expression is on my face, but it must be very odd.

A moist finger touches my cheek, and I tremble. I see that Lucien has already come to stand before me at some point.

Immediately after, he opens his arms and envelops me in a hug, covering up the response that I can't weave.

Lucien: [softly sighs, then whispers gently to comfort] Don't be afraid, we will make it to the end.

Amid the hallucinatory light reflections of the water, I am entranced, silently confiding all my anxieties and worries to Lucien through the long embrace.

✂———————–

["Perhaps we won't be able to see each other tomorrow." MAN 🤧🤧🤧 In addition to trying to probe her again, just like when he asked if she would lie to him, he predicted that other werewolves would definitely pressure MC. The outcome of this night would give him some kind of answer, and he couldn't help but secretly feel unease and grievance, which ultimately turned into a soft sigh as he comforted her again. No matter what, he will still respect her choice.]

✂———————–

—[Lucien's Route - 8: Heart Cleansing Cold Spring]—

Baldhead: Why are you thinking about killing Joker again? Did you forget that he was already guarded before? It's all for nothing!

As night falls, Baldhead and I engage in a heated debate over tonight's target for execution.

MC: I revealed myself as a seer during the day, so tonight, the guardian will protect me. Joker is too dangerous, he can't stay.

Baldhead: Then why not kill X? He's so clever. If we leave him till later, it's us werewolves who'll be the victims!

Baldhead: With so many people left, even if X takes someone out with a gunshot before he dies, it might not necessarily be us.

I endure the headache and listen silently, but suddenly, I recall the words Lucien said to me during the day.

"Perhaps we won't be able to see each other tomorrow"... could he have already foreseen tonight's situation?

I will never allow anyone to hurt Lucien.

From the beginning of the game, I've been very clear about my purpose in choosing this game.

Regardless of our roles, winning or losing this game doesn't matter. I want to walk through this game with him until the end.

I take a deep breath, trying to make my voice sound as calm as possible.

MC: You must have noticed that X and Joker have a distinctly different attitude towards me.

MC: Joker always shifts the suspicion onto me, while X often speaks up for me. It should be clear who should stay and who should go, right?

As soon as I finish speaking, Baldhead glances at me sideways, pulling a contemptuous smile.

Baldhead: You’re dressing your selfish motives with such grandiose words. Don't think I don't know—you and X know each other, right?

Baldhead: Every time you explore, you two are always together like conjoined twins, never separate. You just want to ensure he can be in the game for a few more days.

I instantly get angry and can't help but clench my fists. Because of self-righteous people like this, I've been having such a hard time playing!

As the atmosphere grows tense, Mousy weakly raises his hand.

Mousy: Um, how about we give up on these two and target someone we are sure to succeed with? After all, reducing the number of humans is our main goal…

We remain at an impasse for a long time, and in the end, we reluctantly draw lots from the remaining candidates and target the inconspicuous Granmeow.

Before we part, Baldhead stands before me and laughs mockingly without a care.

Baldhead: Now, let's see how the “fake seer" will come up with a story tomorrow!

✂———————–

Back in my room, I can't help but angrily pound the bed to vent my frustration.

MC: Damn it, it turns out that he looks down on me!

I toss and turn in anger, but there's nothing I can do because that person is my teammate. It’s only just before dawn that I finally manage to get some sleep.

However, I hadn't slept for long when the door was knocked on. I got up, still sleepy, and found that it was only 6:30 AM.

As soon as I open the door, Lucien walks in, opens his arms, and hugs me.

I initially want to say something, but when he holds me, the exhaustion and headache seem no longer need to be expressed with words.

I can't help but nuzzle his shoulder and mumble as I start to speak.

MC: Why is Professor Lucien the alarm clock going off so early today?

His chest is pressed close to mine and trembles like a resonating violin. Lucien's voice carries an unconcealed note of laughter.

[a fox wagging his tail happily when he finds out in the morning that his wife still wants to play with him.jpg. still, in addition to happiness, he is even more worried about her because it must be hard for her to protect him🤧]

Lucien: When I woke up this morning and found I was still alive, I felt that the little lady might have some troubles.

Remembering the argument with my teammate last night, I have the illusion of being completely seen through by him. So, I look up and poke the smile at the corner of his lips with my fingertip.

MC: It seems Professor Lucien is very happy?

Lucien shakes his head, his long fingers running through my hair, bringing a feeling of comfort to my heart.

Lucien: [in a gentle tone] Although I'm very happy, I'm more worried about you. How are you? Does your head still hurt?

Seeing me nod, he gently presses my forehead, the pressure so comforting it touches my heart. I lie quietly on him, unable to help but sigh.

MC: It's much better now, but... this game is more challenging than I thought. I don't know who I'll have to check next.

Lucien speaks softly by my ear.

Lucien: [whispers softly] Sometimes, to achieve a goal, it is necessary to sacrifice an unstable presence.

Upon hearing his whisper, my relaxed body feels as if it's been jolted by cold water, bringing me to full alertness.

An unstable presence...? This phrase sounds like a subtle hint, making me feel that Lucien truly knows something.

I can't help but look at him, and in those always captivating eyes, there is now only a gentle yet turbulent undercurrent reflected.

Outside the window, raindrops hit the glass, leaving behind glistening trails. After days of cloudy weather, the rain finally fell on the island.

✂———————–

The thunderous sound of waves crashing against the rocks comes from all directions, shaking the entire villa as if it were about to swallow the isolated island whole.

In the banquet hall, I stand up amidst the heavy and terrifying sound of ocean waves.

MC: Last night, I checked the Ferocious and Superior Baldhead. Unfortunately, he is a werewolf.

My accusation sparks a heated discussion, and I stand firmly amidst the flurry of voices.

Just as Lucien said, sacrifice is necessary, especially if it means sacrificing a "bad person.”

Baldhead: Nonsense!

Baldhead's face is full of disbelief as he pushes back his chair and stands up, his chest heaving violently.

Baldhead: This is a setup! I've always been human! How can you say that? You are the wolf!

I know, but so what? Aren't you curious about how I, the "fake seer," will perform today? This is my answer.

I look at him expressionlessly, my tone cold.

MC: As a seer, I'm merely stating the results of my checks.

Baldhead: You!

In the thunderstorm, the flickering cold light covers Baldhead's face, making his expression appear even more ferocious.

A twinge of fear arises in my heart, and I hear Lucien beside me start to speak thoughtfully with his calm voice.

Lucien: Hmm... I see.

Lucien: In the previous rounds of voting, he seemed to use emotional statements to guide the situation but quickly withdrew, avoiding decisive comments.

Lucien: His votes were also decisive, without any hesitation.

Lucien: This way of disrupting the situation without leaving any evidence does indeed seem like…

Lucien swallows the unfinished end of his sentence, and this pause clearly gives people more room for imagination. The others look at Baldhead with increasing conviction in their eyes.

Zhao Jianqiang: He... is the werewolf, isn't he?

Angel: There's no mistake. I trust MC.

More and more people believe that he is the wolf, the evil wolf mingling among the good people.

Baldman’s face is flushed red with anger, and I can even see his teeth gritting through his gaze.

Joker: Even if he is the wolf, you are not necessarily the seer.

Joker suddenly speaks, standing up while leaning on the back of the chair. His emotionless tone clearly conveys his distrust.

Joker: There is also a third possibility.

The Joker squints his eyes, his gaze circles between Baldhead and me, and finally returns to me.

Joker: It’s a dog-eat-dog* situation, a wolf kills another wolf.

[T/N: while 狗咬狗 literally mean “dog-bite-dog”, it's more of a metaphor for the struggle and fighting between bad guys]

MC: ….?

Joker: All of you subconsciously ignored a possibility. The real seer might have already died, and she is a fake.

Joker: If you later find out that the seer you firmly believed in is actually a wolf, there will be no turning back.

On the surface, I smile disdainfully, but in reality, I feel exhausted. He has guessed everything correctly.

Joker really should have been dealt with earlier! He will be executed tonight!

I don't dare let his words go unchallenged for fear that the people present might turn their suspicion towards me, so I can only speak up with “righteous indignation”.

MC: ....After saying so much, where is the evidence? It can't all be your subjective conjecture, right?

MC: Since I revealed my identity as a seer, no one has ever tried to "compete" with me for this identity.

MC: And Baldhead has never made any notable speeches; even if there were a vote, it would never come to him-

I take a deep breath, desperately and silently think of my words, then say them out loud with conviction.

MC: If we are all wolves, as you say, we should be biding our time and hiding our strength even more——

MC: Instead of throwing mud at each other at this moment, causing unnecessary losses to our own faction, right?

I speak convincingly, while Joker remains aloof, indifferently throwing a word.

Joker: Whatever.

In the end, those who were initially hesitant still tend to trust me.

The attendant drags the constantly struggling Baldhead toward the pool. Until the moment he falls into the water, he stubbornly looks at me, his eyes filled with hatred.

I do not respond to his gaze; I simply watch as the clear pool water is once again stained bright red.

✂———————–

—[Lucien's Route - 9: Lectures About "Dreams” (Non-story/a.k.a Stage part)]—

The closest dream represents the most distant thing.

✂———————–

[Next Part-> Click Here]

[skyloftian-nutcase]

My dumb brain is dreaming about work and now I am trying to convince it to go back to sleep, but this also came to me so… here

If only it was as easy as it was in video games. Wild thought idly as he stirred the scrambled egg and mushroom mix. Mix the correct items together and… poof, instant magic effect. Some days, it would be nice if food could give those who ate it extra energy (maybe Legend wouldn’t be living off ‘comes with a warning label the caffeine content is so high’ drinks), or a boost to their strength (Hyrule routinely stuck manhandling patients twice his size), or… Wild looked towards the stairs, and checked the time both on the kitchen clock and his own watch. They were the same. 12:25. The day shifters were at work, except one. Sky had shown up at Lon Lon two days ago, the signs of an eminent ‘slump’ settling heavily on his shoulders and in his eyes. At least the pilot had been aware of the signs and had come home where there were others to help. But the ‘slump’ meant Sky struggled to get up, to get to work, and in the worst of it, needed prompting to remember basic things like eating. If only there was a magic combination of ingredients to lift the ‘slump’ or better yet, banish it forever.

Alas, the world was not like video games. Best he could do was offer support like a warm breakfast, even if it was well after noon. Wild killed the heat on the stove, moved the pan off the burner, and stuck the lid over top to help trap the remaining heat while he made his way upstairs and to the room that he knew Sky was still in, and probably still asleep.

“Sky?” He knocked on the door, waited for a sound or sign of life, then chanced opening the door. The lump of blankets on the bed moved at his second call.

“Wild?” Sky asked, his voice sleepy and slurry.

“Hey, Sky. I made breakfast.”

The pilot rolled to look at the clock, then groaned as he saw the digits blinking back at him.

“Don’t you have a night shift tonight?”

Wild shrugged. “I can go to bed here in the next hour ish and be fine. I wanted to prep something for the crock pot and that took longer than I expected so… I made breakfast for the two of us.”

Sky sat up, pulling the blanket around his shoulders. “‘Kay. I’m coming…” it would be another several minutes before Sky moved from that spot and actually tried to come downstairs, but it was progress.

“Great. OJ or milk?” He asked as he turned to head back downstairs.

“Milk soun’s good.”

Wild chuckled to himself. That might as well have been a rhetorical question but he still asked.

“K, it’s ready downstairs.”

Maybe he couldn’t magically fix a slump with food, but a warm meal made by a friend certainly helped.

(Fun fact, the things Wild cooks or offers this time are high in vitamin D, or fortified to be so. Some claim that vitamin D deficiency is a part of the seasonals and making sure you have enough can ease depression symptoms, but full disclaimer, not medically or nutritionally trained. Just armed with internet search abilities and enough knowledge to make trouble.)

I love this ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ The wishing life was a video game made me smile, adore that, but Wild doing something so simple and impactful just sofuwkwiqwhfid my family does this for me all the time and fufuwworhdiIWWHFKCUAHWOR AHHH 😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Cookijg as a love language is just SO—aahhhh thank you ❤️

[chireila]

summer is humiliating (wish i could write my name on your warm back instead)

kagami taiga & himuro tatsuya

i hate summer: the sun, the humid air, the smell of salt sea, and the broad back of yours. not that i hold anything against you, but you have the bravery of facing the sun although the rays pierce through your eyes. i am no longer surprised either way, since you come from the east and always cast a shadow towards me on the west. our feet were not on the same line; you moved forward and i followed you even if you would walked to the end of the world—like the carousel we came by to see but did not ride eventually (we are too old, you said). perhaps my memories of you might rust like the ring you gave me that day. they slowly slip away like august of five summers ago. the only thing that remains in my mind like that of blinking traffic lights is that we like to play under the palm tree and then eat the hamburgers near the beach. the summer felt warm back then, and it was always an ecstasy to be with you beneath the sun. ah, only if you know how i wish to write my name on your back so that if you leave, you will still remember me. alas, you are you and I was the one who left instead. The ring is the only fragment i could hold of you and i do not know if you were still the same or changing like the world around. i do not mind if you change though, because back then we were both changing for the better and lived for the hope of it all. i am far to know if your desires have already been grasped, but i hope you always walk towards the better place and live surrounded by happiness.

but still, i hate summer because you are not here anymore.

a/n: a quick writing for taiga's birthday in his view of tatsuya and their relationship (as always). anyway, happy birthday, my chaotic red-haired tiger! ☆

[keicordelle]

Audacity

Fandom: Genshin Impact Rating: E Pairing: Zhongchi Word Count: 1.8k Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Consent, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Scent Kink, Cock Worship, POV Third Person

Summary: Childe comes to him with a request, and Zhongli can hardly deny a man who knows what he wants and asks for it directly. After all, the point of retirement is to enjoy yourself, is it not?

-

Being a god did not mean he was all-knowing. Zhongli had never been quite so conscious of this fact as he was in this moment, staring down at the ginger-haired man before him (who really wasn't all that much shorter than his human body). "You want to what?" Six thousand years of eloquence and propriety lost in the face of that brazen grin and those sparkling blue eyes.

"I want to suck your cock. Just a little bit? I promise you'll like it." Of all the prayers and pleas he'd heard in his long life, that one had never before graced his ears. Despite himself, he felt his loins stir at the request, a tendril of arousal sinking to tighten his trousers ever so slightly. He flushed as Childe arched one daring auburn brow, licking at his lips suggestively and looking Zhongli up and down like he might eat him for dessert. Which, Zhongli supposed, was exactly what he proposed.

"Why would you wish such a thing?" he asked, less to forestall him than because he genuinely did not understand.

"Because I want to," Childe answered with an easy shrug, his posture managing to convey the lazy confidence of a tiger assured of its next meal. Zhongli wasn't sure he liked that metaphor. "How many others can say they've sucked off a god until he spills down their throat?"

Six millennia actually made that no small number, and Zhongli could have enumerated them all, had he felt so inclined. Fortunately for Childe, he did not. Remarkably few of them numbered among the living any longer anyway, so he supposed Childe's point stood. "Alas, I am but a humble funerary consultant, and hardly worth the effort of marking my conquest on your headboard."

Childe cocked his head, a private, saucy smile twisting his lips. "Come on, we both know that's not true. But alright, alright, if it makes you feel better to pretend, we can pretend. I like a little roleplay in my life. Keeps things spicy." His eyes dragged down Zhongli's body to settle conspicuously between his legs. "Although with you, I doubt spice would ever be lacking."

Zhongli had to admit, there was something alluring about a man who knew what he wanted and asked for it directly. Too much of Zhongli's life had been spent carefully weighing the consequences and dancing around his true intent, secrets cloaked in diplomacy cloaked in secrets until he could hardly remember his own name. But he was in retirement now. And part of being retired meant doing all the things you'd missed out on in your youth, right?

Decision made, he nodded, hands falling to thumb open the clasp on his jacket. "Alright," he agreed. "Then get on your knees."

-

Read the rest on Ao3!

[ptewie]

Seven never ate nine. I am tired of hearing it. I am tired of the continuation of such a false and harmful story.

This is a falsehood perpetuated inorder to present Seven as a bad number when it was simply a victim of happenstance. Think of the order of events: Before Seven, Eight, Nine comes FIve, Six, Seven.

This logic means that 5 sicced their dog onto 7. (Source: The Great Papyrus.) This is not new information, but because Five is an irresponsible dog owner does not mean Seven had to cannibalize Nine, right? What if I told you that never happened? Don’t forget, that Seven, in recreational mathematics, is a vampire number. A vampire number is a composite natural number with an even number of digits. Seven couldn’t eat Nine, as vampires can only have their hunger sustained via blood. Seven merely bit Nine to drink some of Nine's blood, as stated by the story. But this factoid recontextualized the phrase “Seven ate Nine” to no longer suggest fatality. 

Honestly, this should be fairly obvious, as Nine is still alive, Nine is still around today, and Nine is not a fictitious number ala the mythological creatures “umpteen” or “gazillion”. Furthermore, Nine is notably the highest number that can be entered before entering double digits. It’s not a stretch to say that Nine is at the top of the hierarchy of numbers. It’s important to note that Seven, despite standing higher on average within the number hierarchy when compared to its unfortunate cousin Two…is still a member of the marginalized prime number community and is the only example of a vampire number within society’s forward-facing integer focused cultural zeitgeist.  Yes, that high numerical value may traditionally suggest that they had more privilege within society, but that high value could only get you so far when you are within a society that is fundamentally built to be against you. 

Because of the above, I believe that due to societal bias…Seven's actions were likely painted by harmful stereotypes. We’ve only been informed that Seven ate Nine, and we’ve never seen the event. This makes me think there is a fundamental misunderstanding regarding Seven and Nines’s relationship. 

Data suggests that Nine and Seven were not mortal enemies like the story makes us believe, but in fact, incredibly close and compatible despite their differing backgrounds. (Source: The Enneagram Institute) I am going into speculation territory right now, I am aware, but I believe that Nine must have provided support and relief to Seven after a long and stressful recovery process of learning how to deal with Seven’s dog-associated trauma. (This event must have happened first, as the timeline states.) Support is hard, and healing is hard, especially when said trauma is afflicted by another prime number within your community. (I believe, Five likely had some horrible internalizations instilled into them during their upbringing. Resentment likely could have been built due to Seven’s higher position in the hierarchy. But that is a topic for another time) 

But the question still remains, if Nine and Seven are close to the degree that I am suggesting, why did Seven feast upon Nines’s blood when alternatives such as a blood bank exist? This question can be easily answered if we decide to believe the relationship between Seven and Nine was far more than close friends. 

If you look at the two as lovers, what was once presented as a hate-filled attack on a high-standing innocent now becomes what could possibly be defined as wish fulfillment from Nines’s perspective. You cannot judge a couple for experimentation, that would be prudish. (Perhaps Five and Nine had some sort of falling out…that could serve as a possible motive.) 

[xiakha]

FFXIVWrite 2024 Prompt #3 - Tempest

Thunder rolled over the House of the Fierce.

Were she not shinobi, it would be unlikely Yugiri’s exit would have been as dramatic as it was. There was a moment of anguish, and she actually raised her voice to Gosetsu, and then nothing, not even an afterimage.

Were it not for her own shinobi training, Xiao would likely have missed the direction Yugiri vanished to, as Lyse and Alisaie did. She grit her teeth.

She turned back to Gosetsu, who purposefully looked away from where he figured Yugiri had slunk off too. His kindly smile was even more of a poor mask for pain than it usually was as his expression turned stony, “...It is for her to think on our master’s words and recognize the futility of her course. Or at least, those are my thoughts upon the matter.”

Gosetsu’s eyes flitted over to meet Xiao’s, her expression had hardened as well, but in a different way, for different reasons, “You may think differently. Should you be so determined to give chase, I will not bar your path.”

Xiao nodded and casually palmed the paired knives at her hips.

“Zenos will fall, but it will not be to a desperate knife in the dark. We will need proper planning and ample preparation. She has neither.”

Xiao also quietly made her leave as Lyse and Alisaie started shouting at anyone that would listen.

The rain started sporadically enough that they masked Xiao’s approach upon Yugiri’s position. If she was surprised that her fellow shinobi dropped down beside her, she did not show it.

“Did Gosetsu send you to stop me?”

“Would sendin’ me t’ stop ye actually stop ye?”

“I am not in the mood for riddles.”

“Wasn’t the plan, no.”

“...Then you came of your own free will?”

Yugiri sighed, “I should be surprised if you agreed with my chosen course, no one else did. But it’s not as fanciful as it seems.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially, “Scant moments ago, I received the crown prince’s itinerary from one of our spies in the castle. ‘Twould seem that Zenos has no desire to remain in Doma any longer than necessary. His impatience is to our advantage. He arrived at the castle without warning and announced that he wished to inspect the Moon Gates this very eve. The whole castle is in a state of upheaval, but even with Yotsuyu’s pleading, he will not be delayed. He declined a full escort, only traveling with a scant honor guard.”

The shinobi pulled at the front of Xiao’s shozoku, “The kami could not have blessed us with more auspicious circumstances. I will kill him, Xiao. I will.”

Xiao put a hand on Yugiri’s, her grip iron, “Rather not come t’ blows wit’ ye, but the first knife t’ Zenos’s throat’ll be mine.”

Yugiri’s eyes widened even as Xiao’s narrowed, “The first strike on Zenos proper is yours to take, but are you… are you sure?” She nearly faltered, perhaps seeing her own stubborn foolishness reflected in Xiao, but then shook her head and steeled her resolve, “Thank you. Thank you. I… I cannot well express what this means to me.” She released her grip on Xiao’s clothing and gestured, “We have much to discuss, but we can do so on the way. We shall intercept the party at Yuzuka Manor. Let us be off!”

If anyone saw two shadows flit away, surely it was simply a trick of the lightning.

Zenos was bored. 

Oh so bored. He would have fallen asleep on his feet were he not trying to get all of this over with as quickly as possible. He could feel the ennui eating at his soul. It sat upon his chest, and perhaps, were it just a little bit more real, he would have simply stopped struggling against it so that it could force the breath from his body for good. Alas, he could not simply will himself to die of suffocation to end his suffering. He wondered if staring up into the storm would avail him, perhaps he could drown if he allowed enough rain to drip down his throat. Ah, were it not for his helmet.

The nervous imbecile leading the way was prattling on like he were some tour guide for some of the more slack-jawed Yaes or Wirs Galvus. His words had all the effect on Zenos that they would have on a particularly sharp and deadly blade. Instead, Zenos indulged in his internal monologue. The ruins around him were no more cleaned up now than they had been almost five years prior, when he had been tasked with putting down the insurrection. Less a province than a graveyard, the putrid husk of this broken nation was utterly devoid of proper sport. 

He sighed out loud, much to the disconcertment of the Pilius Prior. Varis of course demanded that his son fulfill his duties as heir apparent to the Imperial Throne. So here Zenos was, in fallow fields that he had labored so long to sow seeds of hatred and fear. Where was the harvest? Where were the savage beasts baying for blood?

There was unusual movement behind him, but he thought little of it, perhaps the fools behind him slipped up in the rain. Surely it were anything, it would be little more than hollow-eyed prey striking from the dark.

In one fluid motion he drew his blade and parried the shinobi’s attack, crossing blades just ilms away from his neck.

A flick of the wrist and the shinobi bounced back, another attack in his blindspot, perhaps the first was just a feint? Another would-be killing blow had it not been for Zenos’s prowess. 

The soldiers behind him lay bleeding in the dirt, throats slit and silently eased onto the ground to gurgle to their deaths. The idiot leading the party started screaming, and Yotsuyu started shouting, possibly orders. 

Truth be told, he was looking to provoke something by setting out as close to alone as he could. How how he desired to issue an official challenge, to give the Domans a week to plan and then reap the harvest, but that would never be allowed now that he was heir apparent. So this was as close as he could get to tilting his head to offer his neck, bait to see how desperate for his blood Doma was. All of this was just so he could feel something.

He felt nothing. An improvement over the hollowing ennui, but there was no joy in this hunt.

“How weak. Is this the sum of your hate?”

The second shinobi was unmasked, her eyes filled with fury, her teeth grit with determination, but it was far from the look of the beast that he desired to face. 

“This is but the beginning! For Lord Kaien! For Doma!” 

Kaien’s retainers? Really? And there were only two that let vengeance and rage fester for so long that they would strike at him? Zenos had tempered his expectations, but he was still disappointed by the showing. What did he have to do to get people that could properly hate him, to properly threaten him?

The first shinobi, a Miqo’te with an eyepatch, threw a projectile at Zenos, which he deflected without turning. A misdirection. The projectile exploded into smoke and brilliant light, surely blinding a lesser swordsman, if but for a moment. But Zenos was no lesser swordsman. The follow-up strike still came at him, a blow he let glance off his armor. This one gave him some pause at least, he was unaware there were Keepers of the Moon so far east, and that one would be trained in the arts of the shinobi at that.

There was something about her…

Ignoring his assailants, Zenos looked at Yotsuyu, doing her best to fuse her back to the Manor’s outer wall, her umbrella forgotten, her kimono soaked, “Mayhap I shall test this new blade of yours. Let us hope it is to my liking, lest your misfortunes compound.”

The two attacked again, the Au Ra leapt while the Miqo’te ducked, attempting to hit different gaps in his armor, attempting to divide his attention. If he had given either attack a bit more attention the other would be in his blindspot. Clever, very technical. But one was easily parried and the other effortlessly dodged.

He sheathed his kanata and stepped back to address both of his would-be foes, “Then again, I am loath to expend such effort on the unworthy. Come— earn the honor.”

The clash of steel on steel was nearly drowned out by the pummel of the rain and the howl of the wind.

Yotsuyu had long fallen silent in horror, she had no illusions about the quality of her guard, but that the two shinobi would drop them almost as an afterthought before refocusing their attentions on Zenos… Well it was more the reason to hide within the walls of the castle. 

But Lord Zenos was hardly fazed, he simply strode through the flurry of expert bladework and ninjutsu, not to mention the driving rain and whipping winds, as if it were a well choreographed dance. 

And perhaps in part it was. Though Yotsuyu was no warrior, she had been forced to learn how to dance, and she could at least parse some of the steps. The shinobi were at two disadvantages. First, Zenos’s size and reach far surpassed that of either relatively diminutive figure. Several of the techniques that they were able to use on the soldiers would find no purchase or were simply impossible on as tall and as armored a figure as the Garlean. Second, they had to coordinate to avoid hitting one another, the Au Ra more than the Miqo’te, and when one had an opportune angle on Zenos, often it meant that the other had to pull back. Were but one of the two disadvantages present, perhaps the crown prince would be lifeless on the ground, but both together was enough to consistently give him an edge over his opponents.

And then, when Zenos went on the offensive, the two broke off the engagement completely. Neither could withstand the brunt of Zenos’s attacks directly in their lightly armored states. If he were even a bit threatened, it was child’s play for Zenos to create the breathing room he needed and reset the fight. Yotsuyu wondered what his expression was under the grimace of his helmet. Was he entertained, or was this just busy work? 

Then, through one of Zenos’s attacks, the Miqo’te landed a blow even as she leapt backwards. One of her knives snapped, its blade wedged into Zenos’s side. Whether it actually wounded the crown prince or just caught in his armor, it was difficult to tell, and certainly Zenos did not react as if he had been stabbed. Yotsuyu wasn’t sure if Zenos would react to being stabbed, let alone how. 

“Well done, beast. You have earned the right to look upon Ame-no-Habakiri.”

Zenos drew the katana with a burst of crimson. The concussive force pushed back the elements, temporarily creating a sphere of violent calm around the Garlean with no rain, no wind, only death. It knocked both shinobi flying, and had Yotsuyu not braced herself against the wall, she too would have been bowled over, even at this distance.

Yotsuyu heard herself exclaim hoarsely in horror, “What… what is this…? Kami forfend…”

Both shinobi struggled to rise again, the Au Ra outright collapsing. 

But the Miqo’te did something Yotsuyu had never seen before. Even as she struggled to stay standing, the violet Miqo’te roared bestially and tore off her armor. An axe manifested out of the aether itself into her outstretched hand, and her body was sheathed in an orange-red aura of deadly intent. For all the toying that Zenos had done, for all of the violence inflicted and near death exchanges, this was different. The Miqo’te’s eyes burned red, even the one underneath her eyepatch. This was unbridled rage, with nothing held back for self preservation.

Zenos landed a wicked blow squarely upon the Miqo’te, powerful enough to splinter one of the trees behind her. And yet she kept coming, landing solid hits on Zenos as well, forceful enough to push Zenos back, to lift him ilms off the ground as he parried.

But it was far from just animalistic desperation, Yotsuyu could see how the Miqo’te attempted to drive the snapped blade further into Zenos’s armor with her attacks. For the first time in the entire encounter, Zenos was actually on the backfoot. He leapt back, sheathed that dread blade once more, and flash-stepped forward for another blast of Concentrativity. The Miqo’te was once more knocked flying, but aetheric chains lashed her to Zenos. Even as she slammed into the ground, she remained standing. She pulled herself to Zenos with that chain, her back muscles heaving, and drove her axe into the gap between Zenos’s oversized pauldron and his helmet. 

On anyone else, it would have easily been a killing blow. On anyone else, it might have outright beheaded, if not rent in two.

But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Zenos. 

As the Miqo’te collapsed, Zenos chucked with recollection. “Ahhh… I remember you. Ala Mhigo. The champion of the savages. Did I strike down your lover, now that I recall?”

He casually removed the axe and rolled his neck as if he had merely developed a crick, “Oh… how right I was to spare your life. How delightfully bestial.”

He sheathed Ame-no-Habakiri and removed his helmet. Yotsuyu gasped quietly in horror as the crown prince contorted his lips into an expression she had never seen before on his face. 

He smiled.

Zenos kneeled down and lifted the Miqo’te’s body by the nape, forcing her to meet eyes, “Hear me, hero. Endure. Survive. Live. For the rush of blood, for the time between the seconds— live. For the sole pleasure left to me in this empty, ephemeral world— I need you to live!”

He then set the Miqo’te back down into the mud.

Zenos looked up to the skies, the storm was passing. His heart, he could feel his heart pounding, his breathing actually struggled to keep up. What was this electricity that seemed to crackle through his veins? And his body, his body ached. He was battered, possibly bruised, possibly bleeding from his side. For a moment, for a fleeting, but very real moment, he thought the Miqo’te might kill him. So much he had read about fearing for one’s life, the brilliant sharpness in vision that set in when genuinely struggling against equals, when genuinely fighting to the death. Perhaps this was actually an opponent to overcome, to strive to defeat. He was giddy. He was swimming in emotions that he had hardly felt before. And this mere taste was just a sampling, a brew that had not finished refinement, more time would be necessary, more honing. 

Oh how he longed for another taste! To drink from the lifeblood of his new, most delectable foe! But he had to wait. He had to deny himself until the right moment.

Zenos rose and turned to leave. He did still have a Moon Gate or two to inspect. He ignored the arrow that landed at his feet, and the shouting of someone or other behind him. He heard Yotsuyu coughing and shouting somewhere in the distance but running after him.

None of it mattered. He finally had something to look forward to.

Back at Namai, Yugiri and Xiao were carefully cleaned and stitched up before being unceremoniously but gently dumped into the baths. Each was still alive and nursing no permanent injuries because the other was there, but neither would have stayed so long in the fight were it not for the other.

In brighter news, their recklessness had rallied the people of Namai, and though they did not so much charge into the storm as warily approach it, they covered the retreat as Imperial reinforcements came sniffing around as the moon broke through the departing clouds.

Most importantly, it was proof indeed that Zenos was no invincible, indomitable foe. His armor was not impregnable. His offense was not insurmountable. No matter how slim, the Domans had a chance. None perhaps had the same ferocity that Xiao unleashed, but if they all shared a little of that ferocity, that beast within, perhaps Doman liberation was possible.

[love-loliqua]

Hello dear. How are you? I hope you're doing okay. Been following you for a while, and I've seen you talk a bit about your job being stressful and then not eating because you didn't have money. I wish I could help you, but I don't have much money. I hope this kind message is enough to brighten your day. Please try to take care of yourself the best you can. ♥

Don't you love it when tumblr never notifies you of having new messages? (to be fair this is the first time I've been on tumblr on desktop instead of mobile in a LONG while) Thank you for the kind words. <3 Sorry for the late response! I want to say I'm doing fine, but that would be a lie. Everything still sucks, I wrote a note I'm unsure if I'll use, and I'm no longer on any medication except what I have stored up of my sleeping aid. If I didn't have my inheritance money I would have lost my house by now because I don't make enough in a month to cover my mortgage, let alone everything else. :) Plus I keep spending thousands of dollars on my cats at the vet - my very old (20+y) cat is probably going to pass away sooner than later, and that will be the fourth death I've experienced since January 2023. All in all, I'm existing, somehow, and I'm honestly not sure if I want to continue doing as such, but I've got cats to... well. I would say "take care of" but I'm barely managing to feed them because of how out of it I am, and I don't remember the last time I cleaned their litter. So. If I could actually trust anyone who lives near me to care for them properly, then that would be that. Alas, I am here, barely holding my sanity together with the thoughts of a cannibal-murderer-radio-demon and the questionable love my cats show me on a daily basis. Not the update you wanted; sorry. Please don't feel bad, and don't worry about money - keep yourself afloat, drink water, take your meds, eat a good meal and live a happy life, okay anon? I may hate myself, but I love and care for you and the others who have shown me kindness. You all deserve good things. Love and support, my dear friends.

[hogans-heroes]

Okay I'm back.

So last night I finished MotA and it was just EVERYTHING

While certain deaths made me sad the three deaths I could not have handled where Gale, Bucky, and Rosie and they survived so I can say I enjoyed it 😂

I love all the stuff in the POW camp and wish we got more tbh. The marches were good too but I was constantly waiting on one of them to collapse bc the boys looked very ill and it would have been fun to at least have them stumble but alas

WHEN THEY MAKE A RUN FOR IT AND BUCKY DOESN'T MAKE IT

I mean it's fair they both have to live in a world where they think the other is dead for a couple of days I guess. But Gale lying and being like "yeah he stayed behind to take care of them men :)" I SEE THE GUILT EATING AT YOU SIR

But Bucky putting of the flag!!!!! That scene!!!!! I cried!!!! It was beautiful!!!!!!

And I'm glad Gale got to fly again. I was hoping it was far enough into the war that they no longer cared about the "we can't risk you getting shot down" thing.

And Gale's face when Bucky's voice comes on over the radio 😭

I love how Gale tries to suppress his joy but can't keep it out of his eyes (like when they see each other in the prison camp!!! That scene!!!!)

So Gale is definitely my favorite and I already need more fics of him being sick/injured/abused in the POW camp and Bucky dealing with it 🫶

If you have any plz send them my way bc I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

I am just happy I can finally Tumblr scroll the tag without fear 😂

Thank you for listening to my rambles 😊

ASDFGHJKL awww I’m so happy you experienced the full flood of emotions and are in our ranks fully now 😆 welcome! You’ll never get over it.

The stalag is top tier content and we have a ton of fics set there with ample angst, have fun diving into Ao3! 😆😭

UUUGH BUCK’S GUILT AND SUFFERING TELL ME ABOUT IT. You’re so right the show should have been a lot more accurate whump wise and they really closed over the pows reality after getting out too. But oh BOY we are all in the same boat needing more Gale angst etc my friend. Lots of content going around and I can’t give you specifics at the moment but you’ll find it easily 🫡

Their emotions are allll in the eyes for sure, it’s so moving 🥹

Enjoy scoring tumblr and ao3 and feel free to come ramble here on in my dms anytimeeee. Thank you for sharing your journey with me 🥰

[druidx]

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 12

CW: None AO3; Chapters: 01. 10. 11. Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannahcbrown, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster

Elo lets herself into the chambers from a side door. Her footsteps ring out as she passes over the multicoloured marble floor. The giant semicircular window, against which the menfolk are silhouetted in the waning daylight, rests against the semicircular speaking floor like someone has taken an oblique wedge from an orange. From the curve of the speaking floor, seating rises like a lecture hall to meet the domed roof. She's always thought this room is beautiful – perhaps more so when it's not filled with bickering politicians. The wooden balustrades are lovingly carved with vines and mythical creatures, the domed roof is moulded and painted with cornucopias, and the speaking floor is inlaid with the Triumvirate's seal in shimmering brass and coloured marble. "Good evening, your Majesty. Acting Magister. Exchequer," Elo greets them. Outside the window, the orange sun is captured on myriad windows, making the city blaze. "Lady Toreguarde," King Storri says, inclining his head in greeting. "It is indeed a fine eve." He takes a step to the right and invites her, with a wave of a hand, to watch the sunset with them. "'Sargent' is fine," she mutters as she stands next to him. He flashes a smile. She hadn't meant for him to hear the comment, but after the day she's had, Elo can't bring herself to care. "It is a beautiful sight," King Storri says. "Yes," Elo replies, and it is. She can think of no fairer sight than her city; at any hour or in any weather, she loves the sight of it. The sun has dipped lower now, the sky turning from amethyst to navy. Along the canals, the bargemens' lights twinkle merrily along their darkling paths. The Exchequer clears his throat. "If you'll excuse me, your Majesty, I fear I have more work to do, ere our meetings tomorrow." "Of course," King Storri says with a dip of his head. With a mumbled, "Good night." the sallow man hurries away. Clayrmantle grumbles something to himself, then, "Alas, I should also depart. Early birds and worms, et cetera. Good night, your Majesty. Oh, your Majesty? Don't forget about tomorrow night." "Mm. God nat, Magister." "Elowyn, dear?" Clayrmantle says as he steps away. Elo pulls her gaze away from where the stars now glitter across the firmament. "Yes, Thazar?" "Kindly ensure the king is abed before midnight?" "I'll do my best, sir." With a fatherly smile, Clayrmantle nods and departs.

King Storri is deep in his thoughts, so Elo lets them gaze over the city for a few moments longer before calling him back. "Your Majesty?" He sucks in a breath, as though he has been very far away. "Dinner, sir." "Yes, Sargent."

Elo leads him out to the now deserted corridors of City Hall. "What's happening tomorrow night, sir?" "May we speak on it over dinner? I find I am quite exhausted and would prefer to broach the subject with a full stomach," King Storri says. "Of course, sir. Where would you like to dine? There are several Michelin-starred restaurants in the city, that your Majesty may find pleasing–" "Stop." Elo stops walking, looking at the King with eyebrows raised. "I find myself wanting a quiet evening. Where would you recommend?" "Um. I'm told chefs at the Emerald Star are excellent, if your Majesty wants to dine in your suite…?" "No. I wish to know where you would recommend," he says, pointing at Elo. "Sir, I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid I can't help," Elo says. "A copper's salary doesn't lend itself well to eating out. The rare times I eat out, it's at one of two pubs. Neither of which, I should add, are remotely appropriate places to take someone of your station." King Storri lifts his chin. "Tell me what they are called." Elo tilts her head incredulously. "Sir–" "Tell. Me." Elo keeps her glare up for a touch longer than is necessary, but the King does not blink, so she relents. "The Slippery Slope, and the Skiving Scholar." It comes out muttered. "Which is the cleanest?" "I really think your Majesty should reconsider. I'm told the fowl at Bourdain's is exquisite, and Passport Plates, though the name is a bit kitschy–" "Of your pubs, which is the cleanest?" Elo closes her eyes and takes a breath. "The Scholar, your Majesty." "It sounds like a fine establishment. We shall go there."

With that, King Storri turns and begins to stride away. "Your Majesty… Excuse me– Sir!" Elo calls after him. The King stops. "How are we getting there – have you been given use of a chauffeur? Or are we packing everyone onto a public bus?" King Storri tilts his head. "I was informed you have your own transport." "I have a motorcycle that barely fits two. Again, not really appropriate for a King," Elo gesticulates wildly. "Not to mention insufficient for transporting your security detail." "Are you suggesting I will need them?" "Yes. The scholars can get remarkably rowdy." He quirks an eyebrow. "You are suggesting that the fabled Lady of Toreguarde will not be enough to assure my safety?" "Correct. The fabled Lady of Toreguarde got her title by working alongside your Chief of Security, Meredeth Gruksdottir. Who, incidentally, is going to kick me into next week if I let you swan off without your security detail." "You are suggesting we may find ourselves in such a dire situation, I would need them?" "Abso-fucking-lutly! Toreguard is dangerous. Maybe not as much as other places, but still. And even if we didn't, that's not the point! They are your security detail. It is their job, as well as mine, to keep you safe. I will not have you risking their livelihoods and reputations because you want to go rogue. At the very least, I have to inform Agent Ironforge of your whereabouts, or she will eviscerate me. "So you sit your royal ass down and don't you dare move until I've returned, you emmerdement. Am I understood?" And great, she's shouting at him again. It's been mere hours since she was told she'd used her one free pass. His face is a rictus of shock, and cue declarations of war in three, two– King Storri beams. "You are everything they said you were and more," he says, the grin turning smug and self-satisfied. Eloquently, Elo says, "Who? What? Huh?" "Agents Ironforge and Copperheart, and your Mother." "Aunt," Elo corrects on reflex because he is surely talking about Alexis rather than Oakrose. "Your Aunt then, Alexis," King Storri inclines his head. He turns away. "Come. We have much to speak of over dinner." Elo crosses her arms. "Sir, I think you're forgetting something." The King turns back, an eyebrow raised. "I will allow you, this once, to take a quiet meal without the furore of your security detail. But Agent Ironforge will have me drawn and quartered if I don't report your intentions and whereabouts. Please wait here while I do so." "Very well," King Storri says, still smiling as he settles himself into one of the many chairs dotted through the corridor.

[palushiemalis-fr]

cw: drowning

Persimmon sauntered along the sandy cove, his claws kicking up flecks of sand and foam as he ran. Sure, he was on a lair assignment, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy a nice summer's day. He had to make himself useful now and then. He just hoped he wasn't working with some hard-headed type he'd skipped the desert to avoid. He shook out his sail and his fins to ready himself for a dive. All he had to do was navigate to the natural tunnels underneath between the cliffs. Shame he was one of the only skilled swimmers in the lair, alas, he wasn't going to deny his natural talents to those in need. He waded out to the shallows and began swishing his tail rudder. With little effort he slipped below the waves. Shoals of fish parted like silver curtains as he made his way down, the sea grass bowed as he snaked past. A a great green turtle investigated him before paddling away. Below a reef shelf he found the gaping mouth of the sea cavern. He hadn't anticipated the gloom, nor how quickly it would become pitch black. Another reminder of his homelands; dark choking tunnels. He felt a pang in his lungs, he could hold his breath for a little while longer... surely it would come to surface soon...? A sharp scrape against his flank. Persimmon doubled back on himself. Was it an attack? No, just the cave walls closing in. Which was forward? He knocked against the stone sides again, losing scales and gasping in shock. Disorientated he was swimming in circles. Which was was up? His lungs burned. Panic gripped him. He couldn't even turn back. His chest was seizing now. He shrieked a desperate call through the water. The black became blacker...

***

A voice rumbled through the cave, "Shhh... close your eyes, take deep slow breaths..." Persimmon did as he was told, letting his heavy lids close and focused on breathing. It took a few minutes to reaquaint his lungs to the air and his heart to slow. He laid down and listened: dripping, the heaving of waves, gentle trickling, the plunge of wood into water and the squeak of rusty hinges. When he finally opened his eyes again there were two enormous, scintillating eyes gazing at him. He flinched. The colossal face the undertide frowned apologetically. "Oh my, I hope I didn't scare you." She said, lowering her head. She was peeking her head out of a pool of blue water lit by floating orbs about the chamber. "No, its fine... did you save me?" "Yes, I heard struggling through the main entrance, you poor thing. I should have underlined the necessity of bringing a light source in the request letter but I didn't wish to patronise a strong swimmer such as yourself." Persimmon chuckled weakly, "Never mind that, I am the fool who didn't think to read it." The undertide smiled, dipping her head lower in the water, "Regardless, you need to rest before we can begin any task. I am afraid I couldn't bandage your wound, so I did my best to administer an ointment to your sides. Gain your strength back up with the kelp broth and clams." Persimmon sniffed the air and found the bowl -- or what would have been a tub to most dragons -- full of broth and curling with steam. The rest of the chamber was fitted with a homely over sized kitchen, one that could be operated switches and levers as he doubted she could fit herself comfortably here. Scallop shell garlands hung from the smooth banded rock of the cave. Scavenged red coral and abalone hung from wind chimes above the centre pool. How charming, he thought. "I feel terrible for wasting your time with this... I know I was asked here to do something important and I'm just taking up your time--" "Hush now." She said, trailing her words to soothe him, "I am in no hurry and your task is only a simple report down a tunnel -- a well lit one, mind you -- to report back on several heating pipes and filtration tanks. Please, eat your fill and we can work at our own pace." Persimmon turned to the bowl gratefully and manoeuvred the huge, unwieldy spoon into his mouth. "Thank you, what's your name?" "Phaesyle." She rose out the water to let him shake a long, translucent spined fin, "I am always glad to have company. I don't have many guests down here." Persimmon huffed, "They ought to make the effort! You're a darling and a wonderful host, and your cave is wonderful." "Oh its nothing, but thank you." She seemed to blush and draw her facial spines over to cover her eyes, "I hate to make others take the trip to this gloomy place, its such a fuss." "Nonsense, I shall hold my next recital in this chamber, the acoustics are to die for."

[allylikethecat]

ally!!! i have to say i keep growing ever so frustrated at ao3 as at the end of every update you so generously give us it reminds me once again that i am unable to leave you more kudos when i so wish i could spam you with it every five minutes to show my appreciation for these fics!!!!!!

the ducklings update was incredible and i so loved seeing an insight into fictional!george’s mind, i especially enjoyed how much a packet of shredded cheese caused so much trouble hah — whilst i am loving the angst between them, I am also very excited for them to (at some point) actually communicate with each other lol

i have to go on record to say that as a diehard lover of ‘you know where the city is’ that is the fic i voted for this week — this does not mean however that i am not very much eating up all discussions of the vampire fic (& the equestrian fic!!!) and i can’t wait to see what you come up with (on the discussion of vampires & twilight,, i was always team edward and the idea of vampire fictional!george??? amazing.) and I of course was very happy to receive a ducklings update regardless.

also!! these january prompts have been so good and it’s so cool that you’ve stuck with it the entire month — opening up tumblr and finding a little ally fictional!matty and george drabble has been so fun and u should know that they will be sorely missed come february!!!!

yours,

— 💌💌

(p.s. sorry about the obnoxiously long ask lol!!!)

Hello My Dearest 💌 Anon!

First off, NEVER apologize for sending in a long ask!! I am giggling and twirling my hair upon receiving it!! I love writing obnoxiously long responses and so this is perfect!!!

I too very much wish that I could leave multiple kudos on the fics that I read, AO3 really needs to get on it and allow us to do so! I am so thankful and honored to have written a fic that you feel that way about 🥺 Just know that I appreciate YOU so very much and am so grateful for you not only reading but taking the time to send me such a lovely, long, thought out ask! 🥰

AHH Thank you so much for your kind words about the newest Ducklings update!! I'm so happy to hear that you enjoyed it! Shredded cheese is a very important snack option and poor Fictional!Matty thought it was going to solve all of his problems, but alas, halfway through it became the cause of them. I was a little nervous about this chapter since we were changing things up a little bit with a Fictional!George-centric interlude and am so happy to hear that you liked it! We might have a little bit longer to go before Fictional!Matty and Fictional!George get it together and truly communicate but don't worry it is coming and I actually have a plan for it now (huge thank you to @sundrownsthehouse for helping establish DIRECTION for this fic!)

AHH thank you so much for supporting You Know Where the City Is as well!! The 2014-Disaster-Bi versions of Fictional!Matty and Fictional!Taylor are some of my favorite characters I've ever written, and I am so excited for y'all to see how their story unfolds! I will hopefully have that update finished soon, I've been slowly but steadily working on it since the last update!

The Vampire brain rot has become so very real and I am so excited that people are willing to indulge me in it. Once I get the Christmas fic finished, I cannot WAIT to start diving into my new WIPs 🤩

ALSO omg thank you so much for sharing such kind words about the January OPT prompts, it was a little project that I started for myself, and I'm just so flattered that people are also enjoying them, and taking the time to share such lovely feedback on them! They have been hard to keep up with, but I'm very proud of myself for sticking with them so far, and cannot believe we're over halfway through!

Thank you so much for reading, and for sending in this lovely, lovely, ask! I apologize for writing you a small novel in response! I hope you continue to enjoy my works and I hope I'll be able to a You Know Where the City Is update up soon! I hope you have a fabulous rest of your week!

❤️Ally

[little-flame-prince]

Fairytale Ending (Happily Never After)

Clad in my catskins, I appeared to you, and charmed, you climbed up my steep hill of glass. I wished that I'd noticed your beard of blue. Or that my my apples were rotten, alas.

You knew what it was you dragged to the light. Thought you were charmed - not alarmed - by my form. You know and knew that I am of the night: A witchwife you took for your bed to warm.

No longer needed, I have turned quite cold, and I shall tie your photos up with string. Kintsugi heart of filth instead of gold, Since you could not love me as a night thing.

Your new love's head shall be that of a sheep's. Your mother shall kill, father shall eat ye. Not crackernuts - now 'tis the queen who weeps, so I shall nail a straw doll to a tree.

You bid me dance in shoes of hot iron, your rose no longer, just the stem and thorn. So once I curse you to an early urn, to waters and to wild I shall return.

[jiacast]

Mr Mean

In the markets of Green Valley Grocer's, there lives this very ripe, round, and rather nasty chap by the name of Mr. Mean, the tomato, who is always showing them his tomatoes with his collection of other tomatoes on the highest shelf in the fresh produce of the market. He would take great pleasure in scowling and throwing insults and making fun of everyone that he was able to lay his eyes on in the fresh produce section.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Look who has come to impress! Dear Apple, the shiny coat is a little over the top, don't you think?” He would mock. “Avocado fella, I can see your spots coming out! Who would eat a side so burnt?”  “Hey carrot, what’s the deal with the crown? Do you know what styling is?”

Most of the other fruits and vegetables would only mutter among themselves about how horrible the manners of Mr. Mean Tomato are, but they were either too polite—or fully frightened—to take him on.

For example, one day, another reception of fruits and vegetables came to the store. One of the new arrivals was a little and timid cucumber named Cami. She had just come into the market and was scared about doing well. When she came into his vision, Mr. Mean turned cruel.

“What is this? A green sludge with no taste? Cami, stick yourself in the rubbish bin as you deserve it!”

The other produce exhaled sharply. The poor Cami blushed in horror and sheltered herself behind a watermelon.

That night, when the shop was encore and the illumination was low, something unusual happened. The Fruits and Veggies Council, under the leadership of the incredibly wise Granny Smith, decided they had enough of him. They went to Mr. Mean.

“Why do you behave this way?” Granny Smith asked, puzzled. “Can’t you realize that your bombardment of words is painful to the targets?”

“Of course not! I am just making it entertaining!” snorted Mr. Mean and patted his polished chest proudly. “They are way too soft!”

“Tomorrow,” said Granny Smith, “you will be the one who knows what it means to be little.”

The following morning began with Mr. Mean being shifted to a lower shelf. This was the first time, placed above towering watermelons and beneath sitting fat and sweet strawberries, he felt small and insignificant. He had the feeling of being left out as the clients who walked in extended their arms for the watermelons or strawberries and not for him. 

Loneliness washed over him, so he called to the rest of them. “Hey, Banana, Carrot, Apple! How is everything going?”

But there was no response. They were fed up with his cruelty and didn’t wish to be entertained by him any longer.

Alas, by the end of the day, Mr. Mean was utterly heartbroken. He had no buddies, and no one regarded him. That evening, he made a regretful call to the Council.

“I know how terrible it is to be outside the action now, and it is not a pleasant feeling,” he said candidly. “I was cruel in order to inflate myself, but it had the opposite effect.”

Granny Smith looked at him with warmth. “There is always time for transformation, Mr. Mean. Greatness lies in being kind.”

The very next day, Mr. Mean Tomato made up his mind to alter his ways. He admired Apple for her glossy shine; he called Banana’s freckles ‘The charming spots of wisdom’ and assured Cami that she was ‘the finest cucumber of the lot.’ Gradually, other fruits and vegetables began to excuse him.

Mr. Mean Tomato was not a mean tomato anymore. On the contrary, he became so nice and supportive that the market gave him the title. Thereafter, he was known as Mr. Sweet Tomato. And from then on, the Green Valley Grocers was a dignified establishment.

Moral: A kind act generously is the sweetest gift of all.

[izomizam]

Day 1 of dedicating a letter to him.

"Maybe"

Now that I've realized it I'm quite dependent when I'm with you, like a bird with no wings, a broken record, a missing note on a piano, a clock with no hands. Basically I need you in my life.. You're the air that I breathe, the water that I drink and the thing that has been stuck on my mind lately, how can I not miss you when you're so happy.. I wish I could be as happy as you and not as miserable as I am right now, I'm aware that I'm the one who decided to cut the knots but it still hurts deep down inside.. It hurts in so many ways, it hurts like a stab through the heart, it hurts like a gun shot, it hurts that I'm the one suffering right now when all I wanted was for us both to be happy and free, free from each other, free from burden, free from anything. Just like how we wanted in the first place, High-school was the best year for me.. Or so I thought, not until you changed.. Changed for some reason.. But I accepted that, not everyone can stay happy and joyful furing their high-school years... Every day is just a normal day for me, eat, go out, go back home, eat, then sleep. It's a routine.. Nothing too interesting at all.. Just a unamusing day that consist of emptyness and sorrow. I never regretted holding your hand nor loving you whole-heartedly, what I do regret is never telling you how much you really meant to me, I regret not getting to scream at your face and telling you everything that was bottled up because of everything that drained me, I regret not telling you what's wrong, I regret not getting to tell you how much I really loved you... I never really planned to lose you one day, nor did I think of losing you, but.. Guess we can never really tell the future can we?.. I never once imagined how much pain will I carry on my shoulders, not ever. Because I was so persistent on keeping you by my side, so persistent to continue our plans.. A house, 2 cats, kids, and us with our happily ever after. But not everyone gets that, not even me, not even our plans or promises. It hurts, hurts to think none of us ever fulfilled our promises, they were just empty promises in the end.. It hurts so much that I always blame you for the split up, when we both know we both had our fault. What hurts even more is that its so hard to replace you, too hard if I'm being honest. I'm trying to find someone new for me but everyone that I meet just become a short-term thing, I've tried everything trust me. But alas.. everything crumbles in my hands once I have it.. like us.. left to crumble with no solution at all.. I guess the only way for me to cope is to blame you, to hate you, to curse your name, tell everyone something bad you did to me, tell everyone that it was your fault mostly, and tell every bit of people in my life that you... You were the one that got away..... But yet here I am.. writing this for you....Wish I had a time machine to go back in time and took my precious time in showing you how much I loved you, but nothing, nothing can replace the way you loved me so much, not even billions of gold, even if I wanted to be rich on the spot, I would never trade your love for anything, not even if my life was on the line.... Well you know what they say?.. Winner takes it all.. And I'm glad you're the winner who's taking everything here.

You know, everyday I stumble upon my own thoughts. Thinking, what if we both kept being strong for each other? What if we never broke up? Will you still be that clingy to me?.. Or what if we kept our promises? What if we never broke up? Would we still be together and going stronger than before?... Or will you continue not caring about me and shrugging me off like I'm some wild animal who suddenly clang to you arm?.. Well, guess we will never know since we're not together anymore.. Althought its hard for me to carry on and accept we no longer have a chance, it still hurts me to think we never really actually tried for the better of our future.. Maybe.. In another lifetime I'd be the one you marry, be the one you hold at night the one who can make you stay, the one you love, the one and only love of your life, maybe I won't be blaming you for everything that's happened, maybe I won't be the one that got away nor tell people that you did first..... Maybe.. Things could be different, but not in this lifetime.. not in this universe... not ever..