#It truly does bring glee to my day!

[valleymyristica]

I hope Dale gets a slow and painful death.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHA

Oh, we will have so much fun

Hehehe

Death will not come easy for him Hehe

Even if he wants it to. He will find he doesn't belong. Then find that his anger isn't allowed to last long. Then find that there are better ways to be. Then-

Well... you'll see

Oh, Dale

Such a mess his life has been, but he seems to forget a simple thing. There is nothing that can ensure you'll always be safe. Even money can fail in such ways.

But do not worry, do not fret

For when death does come

There will be no regret

HAH!

Well, I sure won't regret giving him his fate What a pity thought That we'll all have to wait

[once-in-a-blood-moon]

solomon couldn't stand your pact marks.

well, no, that wasn't the right way to put it. he was proud, even jealous of your pacts. they were one of the many admirable things about you! he just hated... looking at them. he knew what other people thought when they saw them.

when one would see those marks on your skin for the first time, they would be able to get a glimpse at your relationship with the brothers. one of trust and respect, gathered from just a glance. meanwhile, one would have to be told about his and your relationship. one look at you couldn't decipher all the time you two have shared together, filled with chatting between classes, practicing magic for hours, and endless love.

at first, solomon tried to mitigate this with his own marks upon your skin. wearing lipstick as he placed a kiss on your neck, a few stray bite marks from your time together at night. but those, while fun, were temporary. and solomon needed something permanent.

why not a ring?

(Hope you don't mind me adding on, anon. Thank you for the delicious meal! Literally so honored to read your beautiful work! 🥹)

Getting the ring was the easy part. Getting you away from the brothers long enough to propose...was not.

The lengths Solomon went through to be able to have a private moment with you might put him in a record book as the three realms' most whipped man. With the mask of his "shady" persona secured, he lets his silver tongue weave him through these seven obstacles, the sin of each dripping from it with only you on his mind.

Swallowing his pride, breathing in greed, spitting out envy...his wrath, lust, gluttony, and sloth. A vicious rinse, repeat until he's either buttered them up or grated them down until they finally gave in. But he did it. With the day cleared of any interruptions, his plans were set in motion.

He decides to have a redo of your very first date, flying you up and walking in the sky amongst the stars. It's just the two of you against the ever inky black sky of the Devildom, a place that has become synonymous with your presence. Only this time, there are no surprise gales, no surprise drones -- just the surprise of a velvet heart-shaped box in the inside pocket of his coat.

Solomon brings up fond memories of your time together as you both near the spot he's picked to pop the question. He's filled with a giddy glee that soon you'll have something that binds you to him, something to show the world you're his.

Still, there's a little voice in the back of his head reminding him that you could say no. That perhaps he's not worthy. Does he deserve to have matching rings adorned on his and your fingers forevermore? Does he dare stand by your side as your equal when you are, in fact, so far above him?

He decides it's best not to dwell on such thoughts as this is meant to be a happy occasion, as long as all goes well.

Your feet touch the ground once he lowers you both on top of a cliff that overlooks the Devildom, the moon hanging brightly above. As you take in the magnificent sight, he lowers himself on one knee behind you, waiting with bated breath for you to turn on your own volition.

The moment you do, he knows he'll have to keep this memory stored away with his magic, just staring in awe. The moon is angled just right that it shines right behind your head like a halo. Your eyes are as wide as saucers while your jaw is slacked. With the way you look, he truly wonders if he's in the Celestial Realm.

Nervously, Solomon begins his improvised speech after clearing his throat, "my dearest apprentice, it is with great honor that I'm knelt before you tonight. I have dreamt of this moment more than I'd care to admit, yet I never thought it'd come true. But here I am, willing to give you all of me, if you're willing to give me all of you. You are the sun to my moon, the air in my lungs, the very reason why I believe I've lived so long. I was always meant to find you and work side by side to protect the human realm together. And most importantly, to love you. So, please do this old sorcerer a favor...by marrying me..."

He pulls out the ring box, opening it to offer you the ring within. The blessed box is shaking as he trembles, waiting patiently for your answer.

Happy tears spring from his eyes once you say, "yes." The ring is carefully slipped onto your finger, and a single word comes to Solomon's mind.

Mine.

[dolliedarlin]

BNHA | HANTA S. ⏤10:54

PAIR. : Sero x Reader

SUM. : Sero making sure you eat a full meal and casually being dominant in the process 

TW : mentions of eating disorder - not eating/skipping meals

LENGTH :  0.7k

Sero knows all your bad habits, your worst one being that you forget to eat so often it’s come to the point where you hardly have a stomach for a moderate meal. It irks him knowing you’re like this, especially when he knows the exact reason why. If he could turn back time he’ll give the rat bastard responsible for your insecurities the beating of a life time. The realisation that he couldn’t even do that irks him more. 

Nevertheless, Sero also happens to know your other habits. One being that you like to read your mangas in his room after dinner. It’s the perfect opportunity for him to counter your aforementioned custom of partially skipping meals. 

“Finish your food,“ Sero voices from his bed, the body of his guitar nestled in his crossed legs as calloused fingers play a small and broken but euphonic tune. 

With a huff, you glare down at the sheepishly eaten plate of food beside you on Sero’s woven rug. An eccentric centre piece to his space that you’ve always found homier than your own. 

“But-” before your full protest could slip past your pouting lips, Sero cuts you off with an ice-cold stare, rivalling your half-hot, half-cold friend. Under your breath, your begrudgingly murmur, “‘m not even hungry...”

You don’t think he hears you but he does. 

“Finish. Your. Food.” Sero doesn’t raise his voice at you, he never has and you don’t think he ever will but he is stern. Unmoving and stony like his obsidian black eyes. And with those same eyes, he sees you give into his demands, beginning to pick up your utensils before casting a longing look at your abandoned manga, “finish eating, your manga isn’t going anywhere,”

“Neither is my food...”

“Enough. Eat.” you don’t move to do anything until Sero takes it upon himself to discard his guitar with a deep sigh. Moving off his bed, he makes his way to sit behind you, caging you in between his outstretched legs. One strong arm circles your waist and pulls you closer as the other brings your plate of food to his side.

You have fully resigned yourself to his care, pouting the entire time but there’s a twinkle in your eyes that deeply appreciates his attentiveness. You love him truly and, from his actions, you feel as though it’s mutual. Not just anyone would care for you like this and you’ve never seen him extend such loving attention to anyone else but you. 

“Come on, Querida,” he lifts a mouthful of food to your lips, prompting you to open your mouth so he can feed you. His voice is gentle and soft but still rough against the shell of your ear. You hope he can’t feel how hot the tips of your ears have become from the whispering touch of his voice. There’s nothing to do but comply, internally buzzing in glee when you feel the baritone hum of approval resonate from his chest, followed by an - “Attagirl,” 

You eat every small and short spoonful he lifts to your lips, pacing the duration of the meal for you as you slowly get back to reading your manga. If every meal was as enjoyable as this, you wouldn’t hesitate to eat six full meals a day rather than the typical three. 

He is a gentle but uncompromising force the entire time, feeding you until all the food is gone and he can finally set the utensils down. You don’t realise you’ve eaten the whole meal until he’s pulling you close and tucking his face into your neck with a deep inhale. Sero loves the way you smell, almost too sweet but not, milky and vanilla but also floral. It suits you well. The causation is lost on him - does he like you because of your pleasant smell or does he like the smell because it belongs to you? Is it even a question worth pondering? It should matter because it’s you consuming his thoughts and nothing else.

Cutting off his thoughts, you turn in his arms and hug him around his broad shoulders, “I’m sorry,” you speak into his neck, muffling your words into his skin, ashamed of your behaviour. Why did you have to be so difficult for the people you love and care for? 

“Don’t be,” he loves caring for you like this; it astounds him why you ever feel the need to apologise, he’d feed you every meal if he could, “querida?” he voices when you don’t respond. 

“I-“ love you...

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he’ll coax the confession out of you some day, you’re sure of it. He has that affect on you. 

A/N : you can’t tell me that Sero isn’t a soft dom because he is! I will die on that hill! also, i’m sorry i’m on and off, approaching the due date for my thesis/dissertation, i’m finding it difficult to find the time to write anything unless it’s a quick scenario i can’t get out of my head like this one anyway, i’ll see you all in June/July when I’ll hopefully be graduating! 

TAGLIST : @hangesidekick​ ;  @emotionalfangirl2002​ ; @kookie02​ ; @lordbugs​ ; @answer-the-sirens​ ; @toobsessedsstuff​ ; @moonbinnie0983​ ; @kinba-ri​ ; @beaniebanby​ ;  @ravensfeatheruniverse​ ; @barbra-annbunny​ ; @maybeisthemoon​ ; @a-book-lover-things​ ; @cocoa-bitter​ ; @mysteriousparker​ ; @mha-baku-todo-deku-kiri​ ; @dangerousluv1​ ; @pansexualproblemchild​ ; @peacchfuz​ ; @skywalkerstyles​ ; @chwlogy​ ; @juliannaelee​ ; @levimeko​ ; @neutralchaosintheworld​ ; @saccharisa​ ; @no1herothatlookslikeavillain​ 

NAVI.

[lovebunnie]

The words wash over Hawk and fills his lungs like putrid water. In a moment everything seems clearer than it has in years, plants greener than ever before and Tim still looks so calm.

His older features seem more relaxed, more grey in his hair than Hawk’s own. It is obvious the disease is aging Tim faster than normal and the army may have made a man out of his Skippy, but the years after Fire Island made him Tim.

It occurs to Hawk then that Tim has been living with this knowledge for some time, was not even going to tell Hawk the truth. This was Tim collected, this was Tim accepting. This was Tim on borrowed time, and Hawk imagines his Skippy holding a live grenade to spare him from any hurt.

“Can I use your bathroom?” Hawk asks in a tight voice after a moment of silence.

Tim says yes, and Hawk is on his way as though running from the truth. Skippy is dying.

The bathroom is a garish yellow and Hawk cannot stand the remnants of this person he does not know; he is used to picking up Tim’s small trinkets and being treated to the origin story with boyish glee. This Tim, however, is unknowable to Hawk. He wonders when Tim started using cinnamon toothpaste over spearmint.

Hawk looks into the mirror and splashes water on his face to bring him back to reality. There is no time to know this Tim, not like he once had. Gone were the days of lounging in bed and trading stories. There was no more time because Skippy was dying.

The world turns and Hawk sits on the toilet.

The last time the world had spun so violently, Hawk had been asked to identify his son’s body at the morgue.

Yes, that’s… Hawk had said before clearing his throat. That’s my son, that’s my boy.

Jackson had been so still and looked freezing and it took everything in Hawk to not climb next to his son and cradle his frigid body. There was in fact nothing left for Hawk to do for Jackson, his duties as his father were absolved. Father of one, officially. Losing his child had damn near killed him.

And Hawk had tried to die, hoping maybe falling into drugs would somehow make him closer to Jackson. This is how he felt when he felt free, Hawk thought as the powder burned his nose; it was the closest they ever got to father-son bonding.

Hawk would have died if it had not been for Tim. No two ways about it.

Now Tim is dying and Hawk cannot return the favor.

He lost one of his boys and another was on the way out next. Jackson and Tim, was there truly no sanctuary for the kind? Were they doomed the minute they opened their hearts to the bitter world?

Hawk cannot imagine losing Skippy, not again, not like this. Soon the world would be without Tim and Hawk could not bear to live through this death again.

Don’t you need me, Skippy? Hawk had asked long ago with cheeks sticky with tears.

I have you, Tim said with all the certainty in the world.

Hawk crumples forward with his face in his hands, tears stubbornly at bay. He never had Tim at all and it was no one’s fault but his own.

He looks up from his hands to the shelf of medication and notices the prescription has a refill available for pick up.

Skippy is dying, Hawk thinks. But he’s not dead yet.

[womanofwords]

The Taste Of Halloween Candy

For @shyticklemonster in the name of spooky month.

Elliot and Keith were used to arriving to Irving Manor to meet up with Sebastian, and they had gotten used to all of his moods.

He has started off sullen, surly, and stubborn, later becoming shy and awkward and then blossoming into a confident, happy ghost that enjoyed teasing them and asking questions about the modern world. His newest question was about Halloween.

"What are all of these decorations for?" Sebastian asked, looking at the other houses from the window.

"Those are Halloween decorations. It's a holiday where we celebrate spooky, scary things," Elliot said.

"And the pumpkins?" Sebastian pressed.

"The pumpkins are called jack-o-lanterns," Keith explained. "It's a tradition to hollow them out and carve faces into them. Then candles are put inside the pumpkin to turn them into lanterns and use them as decorations."

"Ah." Sebastian seemed thoughtful for a while as he pondered what else to ask. "Are there special foods for Halloween?" he asked.

"Yeah!" Keith's face lit up. "We dress in costumes and go from door-to-door getting candy from people! So many different kinds of candy, and all totally awesome!"

"Candy? You get candy?" Sebastian's eyes opened wide. "Cool! Modern candy must taste great!"

"It does," Keith assured.

"What's it like?" Sebastian asked.

Keith and Elliot stiffened. Sebastian looked so happy, but he couldn't have normal food, because he was dead. Ghosts couldn't eat, after all. "Well?"

"Chocolate is a lot easier to get now," Elliot said.

Sebastian gasped with glee. "Incredible! Maybe, you could bring me some Halloween food!"

Keith raised a single eyebrow. "Uh . . . that's good and all, but . . . how do you intend on eating it?"

"I'll just possess one of your bodies, of course!" Sebastian giggled. "Easy-peasy, pudding and pie!"

As Sebastian floated around the room, giggling with glee, Elliot and Keith looked at each other and nodded.

They were going to make this a Halloween for Sebastian to remember.

(PAUSE)

It took them two days to gather up enough candy, eventually filling up a drawstring bag full of goodies. "That should be enough," Elliot said.

"And I brought baked Halloween snacks for him," Keith said. "And a candy apple."

"Great! Sebastian's going to love this!" Elliot celebrated. He and Keith went through into Irving Manor, searching for Sebastian. "Sebastian?" Elliot called. "Sebastian?"

"Seb? Sebbie?" Keith teased. The smile was wiped off his face when a chill went through his stomach. "Whoa."

"You don't need to yell, you know," Sebastian said. He'd floated through the beanie-wearing boy's stomach, causing the nausea. "Keith? Are you all right?"

"You floated through him." Elliot gestured to his friend.

"Ah." Sebastian had the decency to feel embarrassed. "Sorry."

"We, uh . . . wanted to get you your first ever pieces of Halloween candy," Elliot said. "I give you permission to possess my body so you can taste and eat them."

Sebastian gasped with joy. "Really? Really and truly?"

"Mm-hmm." Elliot opened the bag, letting the tragically young ghost see the candy he'd brought. "See for yourself."

"We got king-size for you," Keith said, recovering.

Sebastian giggled and did mid-air backflips with joy. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I don't even remember what it's like to eat! I miss chewing so much!"

"Well, now you get to become familiar with it again! So possess me and experience it for yourself!" Elliot opened his arms, and Sebastian took it.

Elliot's body became limp for a second for stiffening up again. Sebastian grinned with Elliot's face as he jumped up and down. "I can feel the ground again!" he giggled.

"And now it's time for your first king-sized Mars bar," Keith said, unwrapping it for him. Sebastian took a tentative bite and chewed, pondering the flavour. "What do you think?"

"I . . . I love it!" Sebastian giggled, flapping his hands. "Hand me another thing, immediately! I want to see more!"

"Eat the rest, and then you can have a different one." Keith handed over the rest of the candy bar, and Sebastian devoured it like a hungry wolf. "OK, try a Snickers bar. It has peanuts, by the way."

Sebastian took a bite out of it and made a face. "I don't like it too much," he said, after he swallowed the mouthful. "What else is there?"

(PAUSE)

After an hour, Sebastian had to exit Elliot's body, and he gasped with relief and pain. "Dang, how much did you eat?" Elliot whimpered, holding his stomach.

"So much!" Sebastian chirped. Keith held up a chocolate-covered cookie shaped like a bat.

"You can take over my body this time," Keith said. Sebastian giggled and possessed the boy.

"This is the last thing I have. The rest is for you two to share," Sebastian promised.

"Not exactly in the mood to eat any more candy, buddy," Elliot rubbed his stomach and breathed deeply.

Sebastian looked away as he ate the cookie. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I'm not angry. It makes sense. You don't remember what it's like to be painfully full."

Sebastian left Keith's body and floated next to Elliot. "Are you sure? Neither of you are upset with me?"

"Of course not." Elliot and Keith had positioned themselves on either side of the resident ghost, something the undead young man had only just noticed.

"What is going on? Friends, what are you doing?" Sebastian asked.

"There's one last thing we forgot to mention about Halloween," Keith said, as Elliot experimentally poked at Sebastian's sides. "People will often go to a fake haunted house filled with scare actors for the thrill of it."

"But we won't be doing that. We have a real ghost we can visit," Elliot said, the pokes being more ticklish every time. "And our ghost makes much better sounds."

Sebastian looked between Keith and Elliot, whimpering as he watched the hands get closer. "Friends . . . dear friends. This is unnecessary, I promise you."

"We beg to differ," the living boys chorused, their smiles widening as their fingers stretched, curled, and flexed.

Shrieks of hysterical laughter could be heard from Irving Manor for a long, long time.

[sainzinnorris]

love of my life: a brocedes fic.

SUMMARY:

lewis had always loved racing. there was never a doubt about it. ever since he could remember, he's always known this is what he's always wanted to do. he's certain he's never been this sure of anything else.

you see, the thing is, when lewis hamilton knows and sets his mind onto something, he'll do anything in order to achieve it. even if requires destroying himself and his best friend in the process.

because essentially that's what it took to achieve it.

— where lewis loves racing and nico and can't have one without losing the other.

lewis had always loved racing. there was never a doubt about it. ever since he could remember, he's always known this is what he's always wanted to do. he's certain he's never been this sure of anything else. 

you see, the thing is, when lewis hamilton knows and sets his mind onto something, he'll do anything in order to achieve it. even if it requires destroying himself and his best friend in the process.

because essentially that's what it took to achieve it.

lewis had always loved nico.

loving nico wasn't complicated.

loving nico was almost as simple as telling everyone his favorite ice cream flavor. It was always the same, although arguably simplistic and basic. but no matter how many times he had vanilla ice cream, it always gave him the same level of comfort and happiness as it did the very first time he had it.

just like nico does.

he thinks it's one of the easiest things he's ever done in his life.

lewis often thought there wouldn't be a single universe where he wouldn't love nico.

he felt like his soul was forever entwined with nico rosberg, in each and every universe that existed beyond time. 

not loving nico was incomprehensible, it would feel too unrealistic. too out of element.

nico was his best friend and the guy he was in love with.

nobody and nothing could ever take away what they shared.

he was certain of this. he was so darn sure of them.

—

lewis had always loved racing with nico.

racing with nico always brought him joy, comfort, and a spirit of competitiveness only the nico rosberg could bring out in him. 

the races where lewis didn't essentially win, even those races didn't matter as long as he got to race alongside nico. his best friend. 

the burning sting of not winning always lingered around, and lewis had a fair share of experiencing it way back from his karting races. 

but in a hazy, distant, foreign yet familiar memory, he remembers. he remembers how nico was always there, beside him; arm slung around lewis's shoulders , celebrating. clutching onto lewis like their very unlikely friendship was the true prize all along. 

there was a thrilling, adrenaline inducing, strangely intimate feeling about sharing podiums winning together. a feeling lewis could never truly put into words. 

nico hugging onto him, in pure exhilaration and glee as they celebrated their wins together.

he recalls wishing the clock would stop ticking for a while so he could somehow somehow miraculously travel back in time and cherish moments like these forever. 

he also distinctly remembers almost too clearly how he felt like his heart would hammer out of his chest every time he'd hear nico laugh and drown him with champagne and tackle him into a bone crushing victory hug.

so naturally, when they became teammates in formula one, lewis was beyond ecstatic.

he would race with nico in formula one, racing for the same team. win together. celebrate together. just like their karting days.

just like they talked about under the grecian skies. achieve their shared dream together. as equals. as one. 

which lewis knew was the best thing to possibly happen ever. this way he hoped, he could have them both: racing and nico, the two things he truly ever loved. 

he thought he could love these two things in separation. in moderation. let it not consume him for he was a person that existed beyond these two concepts.

these two were simple concepts that meant so much to him. a part of him wonders if they could simply co exist in harmony. just as two distinct things he's in love with. without either of them getting damaged in the process of it. 

except. lewis hamilton is not capable of doing anything in moderation.

somewhere along amidst all of this, he felt the lines between racing and nico blur into one.

he's knee deep in love with racing. it gives him an adrenaline rush. it gives him purpose. it's something he knows he's meant to do. racing, simply put, is the sweetest addition he’s been high on his entire life. 

he's heads over heels in love with nico. every little smile, every bone crushing hug, every sacred and lingering looks, the secret fleeting kisses and the banter. he's loved him from the start, he think he's incapable of not being in love with nico rosberg.

except he doesn't realize that, loving one intensely, meant losing the other one.

—

lewis and nico were happy. happy and content racing each other together. as teammates. as one. 

just reaching for the same thing. a world drivers' championship. it was their shared dream. they would do it together. like they promised, interlocking pinkies, a whispered secret, laying on the sands of the beaches, under the pale moonlight of the greece skies, counting the stars in the skies, their laughter echoing the quiet place, heart brimming with happiness.

lewis genuinely thought nothing could go wrong with them. any mishaps on track were quickly rectified with pizza competitions, luring each other with ice creams and movie marathons. they sorted it out because they were best friends first and race drivers second. 

the mishaps didn't matter because they'd figure it out. together. like they've did all these years. no animosity or hostility. just a shared history, hobbies and heart filled with ever lasting memories was enough to mend any argument or whiplash any on-track incident caused. 

no racing could ever take their very delicate relationship and ruin it even if they tried prying it from their hands, they'd put up a fight together and win together…or so he thought, once upon a time. 

they were the bestest of friends. it was the bestest of times.

—

soon it became the worst of the times as well.

the cracks began to show, slowly and gradually. they always do. it was truly foolish and naive thought to possess, now that he looks back at it. to truly believe there wouldn't be any irreparable cracks that would emerge from the competition, the battle to grasp that one title. 

they were naturally competitive, but this competition soon took a vile form. 

something that's expected from the motorsport, but he didn't think it would truly go this far. he would have never thought it would have gotten this bad. 

what started off as small tricks to bring in more points for the team and themselves, soon developed to mind games to fuck with the other's carefully curated strategies, futile and vicious efforts to clutch onto that championship title, a title they were almost on par with, just separated by a small gap of a few crucial points.

before either of them could fully grasp the long term consequences of their actions, the damage had been done. 

the media trained smiles, the subtle digs at one another, the isolation and the inevitable toxic competition had driven the once best friends to rivals. nothing more than that, but certainly everything less than whatever they had started off as. 

2016 in every way was truly suffocating. it was vicious, dark , and filled with grappling anxiety. soon, it wasn't even about winning, it was about defeating him . 

snatching it from nico's prying hands, because a race win never felt like truly a win to lewis unless it was against nico.

the same way love truly never felt like love unless it was spent on nico. 

—

2016 comes to an end. 

nico rosberg is world champion.

his retirement comes in eleven days later, leaving the world in shock. 

lewis is baffled. nico didn't tell him.

nico stopped telling him everything ages ago, a small almost insignificant voice inside reminds him too quickly before he can expand on that line of thought. 

so truly he doesn't understand why he's this surprised in the first place. 

a part of him thinks that he'll be relieved.

no more mind games. no more unhealthy competitions, no more nights lost over coming up with futile strategies to outperform the other, no more pr trained damage control. 

finally, his mind settles on one last thought.

no more racing against nico rosberg. 

no more loving nico rosberg, a thought that leaves at the same speed it enters.  

hesitantly, he takes a moment to glance at nico at the luxurious retirement party hosted for the champion, to give him a warm goodbye and to celebrate his committed efforts for everything he's done for the team. 

he absorbs every aspect of him, making peace with the fact this would be the last time he'd see him. in formula one. at least as a driver. 

his pretentious angelic smile is radiant but miserable, yet its good enough to convince the media. the countless pr mediated training finally paid off; almost too dangerously, blending the lines between reality and illusion of the person he used to be. 

his final show before exiting the world of formula one, as a driver.

except it was just not enough to convince lewis because once upon a time, he prided on the fact that he truly knew and understood the nico rosberg.

the shell of the nico he once used to know doesn't cease to exist anymore, truly faded away into an unrecognizable version of someone he used to know. 

it's a godforsaken tragedy. it's almost poetic on how ironic all of this had been, lewis thinks.

racing was the one thing that brought them together. their backgrounds couldn't be even more different even if they tried, yet it was their shared passion for racing that held them together. 

because once upon a time, they were just two little boys in karts, dreaming the same thing, becoming world champions together. 

and now they were two grown men, with world championship (s) under their names. 

they did manage to fulfill one part of their promise, just forgot the part where they had to do it together, not apart. 

it's weird how the one thing that you love also becomes the same thing that tears you apart.

the sport takes away that much as it gives you. lewis always thought that part of the pep talk was a bit overexaggerated. 

he was sure that when he broke the records, set new ones, became world champion, he'd be content. he'd feel seen. he'd fulfill his purpose and everything else in his life would fall into place

once he leaves an indelible mark in the history of motorsports. To silence the haters and those who doubted his capabilities for his achievements would speak for themselves. 

never did he imagine that the pursuit of this would set ablaze to everything else apart from racing that he truly loved. 

in a moment of self reflection, he wonders if there might have been another way to do all of this.

where they could have done it together. from the start to the very end of it. like they had always promised each other.

where it wasn't vile and hostile.

where it was just lewis & nico and not lewis vs nico.

or was it always meant to end the way it did?

he wouldn't know about it, for that wasn't their story. that wasn't the narrative.

the damage was done. far beyond repair. there was no point in contemplating the what ifs of the path they hadn't taken. 

they crossed too many lines, burned too many bridges. they both said things neither of them could take back, but the worst lied in those words that were left unsaid, always lingering around, prancing around every time either of them thought they could possibly fix what they had.it lingered around, unwelcomed, like a haunting repercussion of their cursed irreparable mistakes. 

a part of lewis, knows, and understands he didn't mean all those unkind things he said. 

they were trying to hurt each other. and god it worked every single time. they knew each other too well, they knew every weakness of the other. get under the others' skin, a rather disgusting and pathetic but sadistically effective way to inflict pain. to get in their heads, to throw them off their game. 

all because somewhere along the lines the both of them decided to let racing and winning mean more than whatever they shared. 

they burnt violently, a direct resemblance to the sun, gleaming and shining in their fullest capacity and potential they could, every point gained, every trick used, every argument initiated was to close in the miniscule point gap that existed between the two. 

what they hadn't realized is that in order to shine and glow as bright as the sun, you had to burn as bright as its rays.

and so they did. they blazed so fiercely, at a magnitude, in a way only lewis hamilton and nico rosberg could do. trying to outperform the other, trying to be the best in the game. what they hadn’t realized is that they had ended up destroying each other in the pursuit of the same.

now all that remains are ashes of what they both used to be.

at least for now, lewis convinces himself that he still knows some broken; perhaps far too gone version of nico.

and that was enough for him. 

he could live with that, he convinces himself.

perhaps the very same way that nico seemed to live between the broken remains, grieving over the reminders of those memories they once cherished together. 

the full circle was complete.

from strangers , to friends, to best friends , to teammates , to rivals and finally back to strangers.

it was all over.

[sigmastolen]

sometimes i meander through my own blog, right, looking at old posts, as you do, and i was thinking about gwen cooper and a couple years back i said, of the big finish story "dissected,"

torchwood takes over lives so completely that gwen can’t see past her own needs, her own priorities, and her own hurt at martha’s perceived abandonment of them, which is also just so gwen; she truly does care so much about other people (especially strangers, sometimes), but she’s very wrapped up in herself and her own affairs and viewpoints.  she’s a bleeding heart but she has trouble actually putting herself in others’ places and understanding points of view she doesn’t share. 

and i think the brand of empathy that gwen is very good at is imagining how she herself would feel and what she herself would do in a given situation

(and mostly it works for her bc she is relatively normie and her reactions come from a place of emotional tenderness bc she's had such an ordinary life up until the day we meet her and bc she's specifically cultivated that through her relationship with rhys)

which is a very different skill than understanding the actual mindset of another person, and which is also why she is so tormented by the "countrycide" villagers -- there is no situation in which gwen cooper would choose to abduct, murder, butcher, and eat another person, much less find glee and satisfaction in it. it's why she never sees suzie coming. it's why "adrift" is so upsetting for her, why ianto knows about the riftugees and she doesn't. it's why ianto, for all their closeness, is a posthumous enigma to her. it's why she is the way she is, every step of the way. and it's very human, she does bring humanity back to jack and to torchwood-- just not in the way she thinks she is.

[mywingsareonwheels]

1974.

Morse is interviewing witnesses to a murder at one of the colleges, and one of them is strikingly familiar. He's a man in his early twenties, a recent medical graduate back visiting friends before heading off to move into a totally different career. He has a posh accent, a friendly smile, warm brown eyes.

Oh he's truly, desperately familiar, and Morse isn't looking too hard into his own motives when he lets the younger man talk him into a drink out, and then a one-night stand, and then something rather more like a friendship played out over Scotch and crosswords and literary quotations.

[More behind the cut....]

He does mention, briefly, that his new friend reminded him of someone else on first meeting. And somehow that turns into a discussion of ancestry, and the young man discusses with some glee the skeleton in his family cupboard: the fact that his paternal grandmother when barely eighteen had a dalliance with a working-class ruffian of the same age from Mile End, of all places. That she'd got pregnant, but her parents wouldn't let her tell the lad, but instead got her engaged to a somewhat stuffy friend of theirs called Richardson.

"Dad hates to talk about it," says Morse's friend, "he's rather a stuffed shirt, especially for a surgeon. But Granny used to love telling me stories. She did come to love my Granddad, I think, but she missed that boy from Mile End all her life." He chuckles, but a little shakily, because he has yet to learn the effortless-seeming confidence he'll spread before him one day. "I'd give anything to meet him."

Morse swallows, heart suddenly in his mouth. And something in his face makes the young man carry on, more intensely.

"Granny told me that she named Dad after him, though he doesn't know. So that's what I have: Frederick, from Mile End. Fathered a child around 1930 when he was just a lad and doesn't even know he did." He laughs, wryly. "Not much to go on, is it."

"Douglas," says Morse, and his voice is shaking but there's a smile in his eyes. "I... I'll need to look into this, but I think. I mean. I think I can help."

The postcard is of York Minster, which is only a half hour drive from where three exiles from Oxford have settled. On the back it reads just:

"Sir,

Un bel di, please could we talk? There's someone I think you should meet. Bring 2 rounds ham and tomato sandwiches. --"

At the day and time thus ordered, Fred Thursday finds Morse standing admiring the rose window, and follows him out to a bench in the Minster gardens. He's torn between confusion and shame, though above all trying to hide how overjoyed he is to see the rusty curls and those haughty, sea-green eyes again. When Morse explains, and introduces the young trainee pilot with a face Fred remembers from his mirror as a long-lost grandson... well, it's good he's already sitting down, is all.

The years past, and they are gentler than they might have been.

Fred lives to see his grandson a captain, to meet his great-granddaughter. To introduce his grandson to his uncle and step-grandmother and eventually even his aunt. To become friends with Morse again, even if quietly, and for the most part only by letter. To relish that Douglas and Morse, despite occasionally enraging each other beyond reason, seem to be friends for life. (He suspects that they might once have been more than that; if they aren't going to tell him though, he's not going to point it out.) Something healed in him that day in York, and it never breaks again.

When Captain Douglas Richardson puts down the bottle, in an attempt to salvage something of his career and his relationship with his daughter, perhaps it's partly because he's still grieving for his grandfather, dead some ten years now, but most of all because he's still grieving for his friend and one-time lover, and doesn't want to die so young himself.

When First Officer Douglas Richardson meets his new captain at MJN's portacabin in Fitton, he's a little strikingly familiar too. He's shorter, and more pompous, and vastly less good at word games, but there are rusty curls and haughty sea-green eyes.

He's no relation of Morse's at all though, it turns out. This is, eventually, rather a relief.

[scribblecake]

How I've Missed You (Revised)

I wasn't satisfied with the original but can't bring myself to delete it.

A gift for @blacksapphhicmaddonna

WARNINGS: NSFW, swearing.

~***~

Dawn broke to rain showering down upon red earth. Thunder rolled as cool water washed over thirsting greenery. Nanisca welcomed the calming droplets. They left chilled streaks across her heated flesh while she made her way through thick underbrush.

Hushed determination fueled rippling muscle to move silently over mossy stones, over fallen trunks, and then finally through a churning river. Nanisca only stopped when she arrived at a small cottage covered in blooming vines. Elation tugged a smile to stoic lips as the general sauntered up to its carved front door, giving it three rapid knocks.

Shuffling, then a loud bang followed by a harried “Get lost! We’re closed!” came from within.

Nanisca bit her lip to keep from chuckling. “Even for me?”

Another bang, the clinking of glass bottles, then frantic scrambling sounded from behind the door before it was hastily swung open. Peering up at her was a short and slender woman with shoulder-length braids. Bits of dried moss and leaves clung to her braids. A variety of mystery concoctions smeared her clothes. She sported angular features that were pulled into a shocked expression. Her chocolate eyes peered up at Nanisca through thick lashes. 

Both women froze. Eyes locked and, for a moment,  it was as if the very Earth had stopped breathing…

Then there was an explosion of motion.

Lips crashed together to spark sizzling passion, hands found purchase in muscled curves, while bodies locked together like puzzle pieces. Then all too soon, the pair pulled apart. Breathless gasps steamed the air with a charged tension. Anticipation, glee, longing, hunger. So many energies crackled like lightning in the firestorm between them.

Wordlessly, Nanisca was pulled inside and roughly pushed onto a plush bed. She couldn’t hold it this time. A chuckle escaped her lips at her lover’s urgency. However, when rolling onto her back she was met with an angry glare.

“I haven’t heard a word from you in six months, you ass!”

Nanisca’s smile dropped. “I know…”

“You’d better have a damn good reason for disappearing! I’ve been worried sick!” 

The general flinched at the raw pain in her lover’s voice. She hadn't meant to go so long without visiting. Battle, politics, and duty kept her away. To make matters even more strenuous, she suddenly found herself faced with meeting her estranged daughter. Suffice to say the few times Nanisca had to herself, she had been far too exhausted and bruised to make the long trek into the jungle. 

The warrior reached out to pull her love down into her arms. “Apologies my darling dove… the palace has been nothing but chaos as of late. I have so many new responsibilities. Not to mention new trainees that demand the rest of my time and energy. But I’m here now… and I’m more than willing to make up for all the time I’ve missed~” As she spoke, Nanisca placed tender kisses to her love’s collar bones. Yet all she received in return was an unamused hum.

Though mere proximity to her love clouded her mind. Nanisca boldly let her strong hands grip at supple thighs. The warrior prayed that all she couldn’t vocalize would translate through her touch. Doe eyes gazed down at her full of warring emotions. Annoyance, relief, anger, joy, and love, love, love. Her dove paused before all the tension in her body relaxed. She pressed against her warrior with a content sigh.    

Velvety lips kissed at the corner of the general’s mouth. “I love you Nani, but for fucks sake!”

Nanisca chuckled lowly before fully entangling herself in her love’s warm body. “Oh my dove. You know not of the pain I had to endure. I’ve had to go about my days aching for you, spend every night fantasizing about you, yet unable to truly drown in you.”  Plump lips ghosted over the shell of an ear before the warrior nipped at its lobe. “I’d love to show you just how much I've missed you~”

~***~

“Mh, again~” Nanisca husked. Sweat dripped down her toned body as she panted and rested her chin on her lover’s shoulder. Kisses littered every inch of skin available. A sly tongue even made an appearance. It dragged hotly over the soft expanse lain bare before it.

“A-again? Darling, I don’t think I can- mh!~ ... t-that was already m-my f-fourth…” 

Nanisca gave a gentle coo. Her hand came up to work tantalizing patterns on heaving and sensitive breasts. “I can give you many more. Would you like that, dove?”

Her lover squirmed in her lap. A lustful ‘yes’ escaped the flushed and sweaty woman. “Mmh, but a small rest first.”

Nanisca couldn’t help but smirk to herself. How lucky she was to have such a beauty so desperately needy for her. How ready her dove was to shed her propriety to become a panting harlot just for her. Reluctant hands withdrew themselves as shuddering forms shifted to sit upright. Outside, the rhythmic driving of pouring skies added a comfortable layer of static to fill the space. 

Rain combined with the warmth of the day resulted in steamy heat in the small cottage. Sex saturated the air with its heady scent. It invaded the warrior’s senses and electrified her body. Desire reignited to sinful levels, leaving Nanisca desperate to make a mess of her woman all over again. 

Yet she forced herself to stay still. Instead, shifting to grab a jug of water that was kept to the side of the bed and passing it to her love. Sensual calm spread over the duo as they caught their breath. Both women basked in each other’s company.  Though throbbing heat persisted in Nanisca’s womanhood. It begged for attention. Demanded it.

Arousal dripped hotly down her thighs. Each twitch of her needy cunt wetted her flesh with sticky dewdrops. And the longer they sat together the slicker she became. Cheeks flushed, breath shortened, hands gripped at sheets. It was too much to bear.

“Dove, I need your hands on me… I very much want to have you again~”

Her lover paused. A sparkle that Nanisca knew all too well shimmered in her eyes. A hand lifted, “Come conquer me then, general~” she breathed with a crook of her finger.

Lust coiled and Nanisca sprung to action. She surged forward, all rippling muscles and impatience. Gentle hands placed themselves onto burning flesh. Like ice to embers, their touch melted bliss onto sensitive skin and wrenched a groan from the general’s throat. 

“More.”

The next few hours were spent with both women completely entangled in one another. True to her word, Nanisca showered her sweet dove with release after release while indulging in touch herself. The warrior lost herself in the pleasure those soft hands gave her. 

They clawed at her back, caressed sweetly at her jaw, twisted her budding nipples, and coaxed orgasm after orgasm from her quivering folds. Best of all they made her feel the love she craved. Nanisca lost herself in heaving breasts. In the way thighs trembled and flexed around her head. She drowned in the sweet nectar that flowed from swollen petals to quench her parched throat. 

Presently, calloused hands were sliding down slender legs to grab them at their ankles. The warrior stood on her knees as she slung the legs up to place one over each shoulder. Her lover now dangled upside down with her glistening cunt presented to the ceiling. Nanisca wasted no time in burying her face in the sopping folds. Fervent sucks and an agile tongue filled the room with lustful music. Each desperate lap was harmonized with sloppy wet slurping that drove them both wild.

Eyes rolled back. Breathy moans split the air as the general let hot arousal fill her mouth. She fully submitted to it. She missed this taste! Nanisca let the sapid juices soak her cheeks and chin before fixing her lips around a throbbing clit. Her cheeks hollowed with suction, ripping a wail from her suspended lover. 

The woman in question sported a blissed out expression on her face with tears dotting the corners of her glazed eyes.

“N-Nanisca! Your m-mouth is- amazing!”

The warrior peeled her mouth away from her meal. “Yes? Tell me, tell me how much you love it!” She hissed before lavishing her lover’s clit with her tongue. Toe curling patterns were traced relentlessly on the sensitive bud making the other woman scream.

“I love it! F-fuuuck! Right there!”

Those words lit a fire within Nanisca. Pangs of pleasure jolted down to her core, making her own need for stimulation flare. A growl rumbled deep in her chest as she arched forward to lay her dove on the flat of her back. This prompted the other woman to whine in protest. She was quieted when an arm hooked down to keep one leg extended upwards. Nanisca burned with want as she moved to hover her dripping sex over her beloved’s.

Lower lips kissed. Heat boiled against wet heat in an explosion of pure ecstacy. Sensation jolted pleasure up the warrior’s spine. Hips canted forward as wanton groans escaped them both. Sweat dripped down her abdomen while it flexed with the steady pace she set. Nanisca threw her head back at the unbridled euphoria that coursed through her body. Breathy whines sounded from beneath her. They grew in pitch and frequency with each thrust. Silken hands climbed their way up the general’s stomach to rub electrifying circles on her swollen nipples. 

Nanisca leaned down, “I’ve dreamed of seeing you like this. so. many. times.” she growled while pointing each word with a thrust. “The sheer amount of times I’ve had to sit in the council with your moans echoing in my mind, it's shameful really…”

A whine warbled from her lover’s throat. The other woman could only buck her hips weakly in response, her nails raking down her warrior’s chest. Arousal tightened in Nanisca’s cunt. Hips snapped forward and began to command a mind numbing pace. She angled herself so that their dripping buds were in constant contact. Her core clenched and she hurtled towards her release.

Nanisca was made vaguely aware that the bed was shaking violently. Maybe even a little too violently. A new sound joined the carnal symphony. The headboard banged out an obscene rhythm as it hit against the wall. It inflamed Nanisca’s ego. She let it spur her movements to new intensities. Each driving thrust shook the wooden frame more and more…

C R A C K !

T H U D !

C R A S H !

Gravity and momentum threw Nanisca forward and down onto her love as the bed gave out from under them. Yet strong legs hooked around her waist. She threw caution to the wind and without missing a beat her hips continued to pound. 

“You broke my fucking bed!~”

“Yes.”

“You shedemon! Dont fucking stop!~”

And just like that they were tumbling over the edge together into oblivion. Coils of arousal tightened then snapped, unleashing torrents of boiling wetness. Cores spasmed and clenched, breath stuttered and gasped, all while loud cries cut through the hazy twilight ending with both women collapsing into each other.

Nanisca’s chest heaved. She rolled onto her back, drawing her lover’s languid frame into her arms. Breathless and satisfied post sex tranquility weighed their limbs. Rain gently tapped a soothing melody on dense undergrowth. It lulled the pair back into comfortable silence as they soaked in each other’s presence.

Tender kisses were exchanged in the growing dark and after a while, Nanisca felt a shift in her arms. She met glittering eyes with her own. Her dove’s lips twisted into a mischievous smirk.

“I know we’ve spent all day in bed but… how much did you really miss me?”

~***~

Tag list: @zeezeecave  @shanas-baby @blkbinz  @mybonafidefeelings  @xenaizogie

[jpitha]

Just a Little Further 15

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

I was furious. The Aviens and Mariens in charge here thought they could control us with the gift of a false translator. They watched our arrival with glee probably. Our power is self evident and were relying on naïveté in order to control us.

As I strode along towards the administration building, Ava, Fer'resi and Mei'la struggled to keep up; I was walking with purpose. "Melody!" Ava called out. "If you slow down, we can walk with you and it will look more like a precession than some retainers struggling to keep up!"

I stopped. She had a point. I dressed like this and applied my mantle in order to impress. Empresses never rushed. Everything waited for them. We took a moment to get our bearings and look around.

Maybe I shouldn't have stopped.

Everyone was watching us, staring. They weren't running, but shops put shutters down, and were bringing chairs and tables closer to exits. Nobody left but people were making sure they were behind something sturdy while still having a view of the promenade.

Interestingly, the children were not frightened. I saw a small school of kids - all different types - who were peering owlishly through an open door. I met their eyes and spread my wings just a tiny bit and ruffled them. They all laughed and cheered. I don't expect them to know who I am or what I am doing, but when a women dressed in a beautiful outfit and a crown and wings made of light waves to you, it's a great day when you're 4.

We start walking again, this time at a slightly more sedate pace. While I walk, I'm trying out things. I'm trying to grill my Nanites for information. Does this starbase have an AI?

Maybe. Some did, some didn't. We have no specific memory about this one.

Well, I don't want to start shouting into the air just yet, and we don't have some kind of communication device for this Starbase... yet. Let's continue with the original plan.

While we're walking, I turn back. "What do you think everyone?"

Ava's head is on a swivel, with wide eyes and a big grin. "This is amazing Melody, it's so much... more than any Starbases back home. I wonder if they have shopping?" She gasps. "How do they do money? I wonder if they still have currency or is it all digital? I can't wait to see."

Mei'la looks thoughtful. "They sure are wasteful with power here. I wonder if they just have that much of a surplus or if we could bring some efficiencies in and help people."

Fer'resi just looks worried. "I understand why you brought me Em-er, Melody, but I must admit I am not looking forward to this confrontation."

I scoff gently. "Confrontation? We're just going to go to the administrative offices, explain that we are willing to look at what happened as a mistake and ask for a proper translator. I'm sure it'll be fine." When I say it out loud, I realize that it probably won't go that way. But, I don't want to worry him.

That is worrying him more.

It'll be fine.

As we rounded the final corner to the administrative building, I saw it. There were barricades set up around the building, and a mix of Mariens and Aviens were standing guard every meter or so, facing out, weapons free, but not being pointed at anyone.

Uh oh.

When we got about 3 meters away, the closest one called out. "Halt! The Administrative offices are closed by order of the Regents. You must come another day."

Really?

I put my hands on my hips and looked at them. I spread my golden wings just a bit to look larger. The Aviens who spoke the order looked at me, very nervous.

"Thank you citizen." I say kindly. "I appreciate your loyalty to your supervisor, it is to be commended. Now that you have completed your task, step aside and allow us to pass. No harm will come of you - you followed your orders to tell us to leave. We will not harm you." I gesture back to my team. "As you can see, we are unarmed."

He laughed weakly. "No Builder is truly unarmed."

I nod, when you have a voice that people can be compelled to obey, he's right. I sigh. He's going to make me say it isn't he?

He wants to experience it as much as he wants to be able to say he tried to resist when his supervisor reprimands him.

Ugh, Fine.

S̴̢͖̪͍̟̟̼͓͉̫͎̯̈́́̌̄̚ͅț̴̨̧̛̠̝̙̬̪̖̽́͐̎̾̊̒̒̋͐̀͘̕͜͜͝ͅe̸̹͐̈́̈́̈̑̉͗͘͠p̶̣͓̂̏͐̉̍̎̄̆̚͝ ̷̨̡̱̦̫̘͎̘̙̭̘̟̮̣̲̣̹͛͒͋̉̔̔͝Ā̴̧̡̝̰̦̫̱̬͍̞̘̞͓̝̲̣͒̋̀͌̎̐̊̈́̍͝ş̷̧̤͈̲̺̮̬̩̜̣̗̯̹́͊́͛ͅị̵̒̂̚ḓ̶͙̳̏͌̉ḙ̵̛̩͇̰̰̺̹̥̺̥̠̲̜̀̈́̐͊̉́͂̋͌͂̅͐̕ͅ.̸̢̛̬̫̙̺̟̟̜̪̯̹͚̯̼̔̀̊̑̄̿̓̔̎̚͜͜͜͝͠

I say it as gently as I can. As one, every Aviens and Mariens moves two steps away from the barricade. The one who spoke to me shudders and sighs happily.

"Ew" I say out loud.

"What is it? Ava asks, looking

"That one-" I point to the Aviens I've been talking to "-liked it when I ordered him around."

"I mean, I get it." Ava said, blushing.

I looked back at her and raised an eyebrow. She blushed harder. "I'm just saying that lots of people really like it when a powerful, beautiful woman orders them around, they don't even have to have the Voice that compels people for them to like it."

"Like, a sex thing?" I ask, confused.

"It can be, but it doesn't have to be" Ava replied, slightly defensively.

"Do you want to be ordered around by me?" I asked. Why did I ask that? I don't know which answer I wanted to hear.

She looked away "I wouldn't... mind it." She said.

Huh. Okay.

As we walk in, once again we're in the large, open, impressive vestibule. Over in a corner is a desk where one of the insect people - I really need to learn their names - is sitting looking bored I think. They have a book open and were reading. I stride up to them.

"Hello. Please tell me where I can find Starlight on a Moonless Evening or Vivvex please." I try not to use the voice this time.

Incredibly, they look over at me and their expression does not change. They are utterly unimpressed. "The Regents are in a meeting and have stated that they are not to be disturbed. I can take a message if you would like, they will reply to you by runner within one standard month."

Amazing. They are utterly unfazed. We should keep this one when we sit upon the throne. They have a skill.

"That's not necessary." I say brightly. "Can you direct me to where the Regents are meeting?" I attempt to put just a little bit of the voice into the request.

I needn't have bothered. "They're in meeting room 345. It's on the third floor, sunward side."

I bow very slightly and the glowing wings dip just a bit. "Thank you friend. What is your name?"

"I am Fel."

"Well Fel, please don't go far. I feel that I'll have a use for you very soon."

"Yes, Empress."

I blink. "Wait, how did you know I'm the Empress?"

"You were able to get the guards out front to stand down with a word, you are dressed in a very complicated outfit, you look like the statue out front and you have glowing wings and a glowing crown"

Yes. We like this one.

"Er yes. When you explain it like that it does make sense, Thank you Fel."

"Empress." and he turns back to the book he was reading.

Up the stairs and down the hall until I'm front of a room with 345 written on a placard to the side. Next to the door I can read a little slider. One one side is "OCCUPIED" and I slide it the other way and it reads "OPEN". Offices really are the same everywhere. Huh. I feel disappointed learning that.

I try the door, and it's not even locked. Opening it, I step in and...

"I'm telling you, there's nothing to be worried about." Starlight on a Moonless Evening and Rapid River Roaring and talking to Vivvix and Zemmlin. Nobody is facing the door.

"I'm convinced they don't even know what they are" Zemmlin says. "They don't have the air of Builders, even if they look like them."

"I agree" Rapid River Roaring says, taking a sip of something from a steaming mug. "They don't have the organs for the hard work of ruling."

"If that's the case, then let the 'translator' that I gave them do its work. The problem will solve itself." Ottarn is talking over a screen from somewhere else.

I lean back out of the office - they really haven't noticed me yet - and look to Ava, Mei'la and Fer'resi and wink. Ava grins wickedly, Mei shakes her head and Fer'resi looks nervous.

With some concentration, I turn up the imperial regalia. The crown glows more intently, the wings look a little more elaborate and they start to flutter as if they are being rusted by a breeze that doesn't exit.

C̸̰̽͜e̷̡͌̀a̴̱̗̿ṡ̶̼̲̽ë̴͔̙ ̶͈͕͋̑y̶̥̓̃ö̷̪͈ù̶̢̠r̸̖̩͠ ̷̪̩͑c̵̝̾͝h̷̠̻͂a̶͇̐t̵͓͕͗t̸̯̖̋e̵̺͒r̴͈͑̕ ̶̡̟͋̎ä̴̻̝t̴̝̙̂ ̴̡̡͝o̷̢̐n̵̟̰͋ć̵̜̩̋e̵̥͕͊̔.̵͔͔̾̈́

As if I pressed the mute button, they all stopped talking. Horrified, they turn to face me. I step out so that Ottarn can see me. Interesting. I wonder if Ottarn is compelled to stop speaking, or if they're just startled. I bet the Voice doesn't work over a radio signal.

"You think us weak? You think us meek?" I lay it on thick. Ava is reveling in it. "You realize you were visited by Builders who did not yet know their true nature and you choose to hide it from them? To attempt to use them for your own ends? To further your own power? The moment I spoke the Holy Words to you, you knew your days ruling this place were numbered."

I look up at the screen. "And you. Giving my linguist a false translator when all he wanted was to better understand you and be understood. He has received his lesson he understands you better than you know. Ottarn, speak. Tell me your location."

"I-I-I am aboard our ship, Holy One The Sea-Light."

"Disembark at once and return to this building. I will await your return."

I turn to face the ones in the room. I have not given them permission to speak and they are staring at me with wide eyes, shaking with fear.

Good.

I point to Rapid River Roaring. "You. Fetch three working translators. Speak to no one."

He stands up so quickly his chair falls over. Ignoring the toppled chair he practically runs out of the meeting room.

I jab a finger at Vivvex. "You. Speak. Where is the Throne in this Starbase."

The what? What am I asking about?

The Throne is where you rule. All Starbases have one. When you visit any Starbase, that's your main location. They are usually near the docks, though not always.

"There is an entrance in the promenade, Empress. We don't know how to open it though. I swear Empress, it was the others, Rapid River Roaring and Starlight on a Moonless Evening who conspired to keep you from your right. We were nothing but unwitting pawns!"

Oh, they called me Empress instead of Holy One.

They see the writing on the wall. They are trying to save themselves. Pitiable.

Just then, Rapid River Roaring returns, out of breath. I do believe they ran the entire way. In his clawed hand are three translators on little black straps. They're meant to be worn around the waist with a subdermal connection on the throat to facilitate speaking without having a constant din of both languages. I concentrate at them for a moment and my eyes flare yellow orange.

They are true translators, Empress.

I take them from him without comment, and turn to my team. "Here. This is how you wear them. I reach over to Ava and she blushes again as I fasten it around her waist, and then paste the subdermal to her neck and put a bone conductive dot behind her ear. "Try it."

"Okay, how do I sound? Can these..." She sneers "Sapients understand me?"

I look at them. Rapid River Roaring nods and said "Yes, we understand you perfectly, Builder."

I go to Mei'la and Fer'resi and help them put their own translators on as well.

"This is so neat!" Ava looks at me and smiles. "I swear Melody. If this Empress thing doesn't work you can make some real money in the High Mars cities or the Outer Planet Alliance doing dom work. You've got an unrealized gift."

Now that she's understood, both of the Aviens feathers flutter in titillated embarrassment at what she just said of their Empress. I raise an eyebrow at them and they immediately look down and start to cower.

"No, don't cower. It grows so tiresome. Where is Ottarn?" Their looks of frightened confusion tell me they don't know either. I have a hunch. I radio FarReach. "FarReach, this is Melody, can you tell me if any of the ships in dock have moved?"

"Actually yes Melody." FarReach answers "One of the mid sized ships opposite us blew their umbilical in a shower of dust and seems to be attempting to run." Gene adds, They're having engine problems though. Their power output is very low. I don't think we'd have any trouble stopping them."

Hmm. "How long do you estimate before they reach the Gate?"

"More than a day at their current speed. Maybe even two."

"Okay, watch them, and if they get close to the point where you can't catch up to them let me know."

"Uh okay, Melody, if the Captain is fine with it."

"She will be, Gene."

"Hmm."

I turn back to the Avien and Mariens in the room. "You compatriot has abandoned you. They feel they will have better luck trying to outrun my Starjumper in their creaky old ship. Enough of this. They will receive my full attention soon enough. Lead me to the Throne."

They get up from their chairs and wordlessly leave the room. We follow them.

Part 16

[ultraericthered]

One Villainous Scene: My First Emotion

As Valentine's Day is the day of love, my Valentine's gift is not one but two One Villainous Scenes featuring love as the central theme, one leaning on the darkly comical side, the other on just plain dark.

This would be former. In the third episode of Happy Sugar Life, Satou has spared the life of Asahi Kobe when she was about to kill him while he lay unconscious, due to something relating to Shio from him and regaining the good sense to know that a murder like this would compromise her and Shio's peaceful, happy, loving life together. On the walk back home, Satou starts to wonder why it was that she'd even thought to attempt Asahi's murder in the first place. She's normally very much in control of her feelings and able to think through all the decisions she makes, so what had made her so impulsive and uncontrolled back there? And so she contemplates:

I'm not new to bitter tastes. But this was on a totally different level. Just remembering it brings back the bitter taste. What IS this? Anger? Pain? A warning sign? It's different from anything I've ever felt before. It's bitter. So bitter.... I have to understand it to control it.

Satou recalls what set her off: Asahi, in his semi-conscious delerium, speaking the vows of love that Satou and Shio exchange on a nightly basis. Satou says that when she heard this, she got the image in her head of "Shio-chan and that thing saying those vows to each other" (and I love that Satou is just insistent on thinking of Asahi as a "thing" and an "it" rather than a fellow human being, like she has to internally dehumanize any person towards whom she has immediately venomous and bitter feelings of dislike). This puts into perspective that what was driving Satou up the wall was the very idea that her special someone, the one and only person she truly loves, could ever be with someone else in any close capacity where he loves her and she even might love him back. And that's when it finally hits her.

She was jealous of Asahi over how he's someone who knew and loved Shio well before she ever met her. It's jealousy that she felt.

Colorful shooting stars rain down in Satou's eyes and the mood of the scene does a sudden hard shift to being joyous, whimsical, and sweet. Soft, pleasant backgrounds and bright colors replace the dark and icky "bitterness" of before as Satou literally prances and skips down the street in girlish glee, now happy to have felt such a visceral, anguishing response of envy, rage, and disgust towards Asahi because these painful feelings are born from Satou's love for Shio! "My first emotion!", thinks Satou as she merrily skips along, clearly not meant to suggest she had no emotions before 'cause she earlier admitted to feeling different emotions in the past, but this is the first non-happiness stirring within her heart that anything to do with her relationship with Shio has made her feel on a deep level. It's the sociopath's first experience of actually connecting with something deep within herself that is purely, rawly, and unmistakably human.

The moment only gets schmaltzier and goofier from there!

That could be said to be the end of it....but only two minutes later, we see Satou get on the elevator to go back to her apartment room when Asahi crosses her mind once again. While still thinking of him as "that thing", she's at least in the mood to use his proper gender pronouns this time as she resolves to ensure he and Shio don't meet.

From unhinged and creepy to cute and pleasant, then back around to pants-wettingly terrifying. Really, what better way to sum up the masterstroke of yandere horror that is Satou Matsuzaka than that? Just as Satou adores Shio, I adore Satou's character. So much captivating complexity and nuance and psychological fucked up-ness. You see all the darkest facets of her and are so fearful and repulsed that you have the instinct to look away from her, yet find you can't because she's already pulled you into her world. You want to know her better, you want to see her in action, and because she is so charming and a lesser evil than others around, a small, secret part of you might even want to see her come out successful in the end.

I guess that can't be called anything less than a form of love. <3

Here's the full scene, from 5:50 to 9:58, in English. And whatever can be said of that fandub, Malina Rose is fucking GOATed as Satou.

[valleymyristica]

do you think peri's body will react well to this whole thing of not eating for three days?

HAHAH 'think' Yes, as if I don't hold the strings of his fate in my hand HAH, oh, how delightful

To answer your question properly, It will not.

This does not bode well for him, but, in terms of his body, it won't really leave any everlasting effects. His body is fine. He is fine.

Though, Do you really think it's his body you should be the most worried about?

His body may bring him cold, it may become weak, it may make it hard to do his job proper. It's not great, but he'll still do his job. He's on the clock after all. He can't let himself fail.

It's his first job. His first godkid. He got this.

He's a star, he's great, he can't fail. Those are simply the facts

Don't worry about it It's fine

Also! Thank you so dearly for sending the ask Makes me so happy to know that you find the story intriguing enough to ask about it!

And if there are any more question, then I'll be happy to provide them with a response as well ᵔᵜᵔ

Thank you again And I hope you day is a lovely one You deserve such a treat for bringing a smile to on my end

[darkmatter-nebula]

Good morning, my dear fellas! 😘

"Lost But Now Found" AU drabble about the sweet little starboy Colli and his first meeting with Belos ahead. It takes place shortly before the drabble "Freedom! Or... Is It?" Here I go!

Drabble: The Emporer And The Shadow

It was a quiet morning on the Boiling Isles. Emporer Belos was about to talk to someone special for the first time. The man's icy blue eyes were filled with glee as he touched the disc. "Greetings, my shadowy friend!" Belos spoke up as the shadow of an little boy was floating in front of him.

"Hello! Who are you?" The shadow boy asked and tilted his head innocently. "My name is Belos. I am the Emporer of the Boiling Isles! I found out about you and I am determined to set you free!" Belos explained. The child went wide eyed.

"You... you want to free me? Does that mean that you want to be my friend?" The little boy's sweet voice was filled with surprise and also hope. "Indeed. I plan to bring you in a few days to the Eclipse Lake to get Titan's Blood."

"I wish I could hug you right now! Unfortunately, I can't. But still! I am soooooooo happy!" In the In-Between, the small starboy with otherwordly fluffy lavender hair and a heart of gold was about to cry tears of joy. Soon, he finally would be free!

The kind and sweet eternal little boy, who was unfairly imprisoned by some jerks who pretended to be his friends, couldn't wait to feel the wind on his skin again. To eat some sweet treats. To play nice games and to have fun. And he was longing to fly. Sure, he could walk, but he always preferred to float. But most importantly, he was longing for warm hugs. He just wanted to be truly loved.

The cosmic little boy, fifty years later officially named Colli, had a bright smile on his adorable multi-colored face. For the first time for many centuries. Belos only could see the smiling face of Colli's shadow. 'I already gained his trust? That was way easier than I thought!' Belos thought.

"When I freed you, do you want to live in the Castle as my son?" Colli couldn't believe his ears! Someone wanted to adopt him? The immortal celestial boy was blissfully unaware that Belos definitely didn't have good intentions. "Do you really mean it?" Colli asked. "I do." Belos lied.

Belos planned to travel without his Grimwalker to the Eclipse Lake. The blonde boy didn't know about the disc and Colli, and Belos planned to never tell him about his plan to use the little God as a living battery. The Golden Guard wouldn't understand. He probably would try to safe the kid.

The End

[jaegonsmoon]

Not the same anon but I have something written along those lines, it needs to be edited because things are tough irl but by tomorrow or Tuesday I might sit down and post it for you. As for an idea for you for a drabble... what do you say about the first flight together?

oh that’s so great! I would love to read it 🫶❤️ lmk when you do!

As for their first flight together, depending on the situation… This is post-Dance, Blacks win!

After Arrax’s death it takes Lucerys a while to come to terms if he wants a new dragon. Eventually, he tames Grey Ghost. He had the option of getting a new dragon egg, but he refused. His cradle mate will forever hold that special place in his heart. So he decides to go for a wild dragon. He and Grey Ghost have a friendly bond. The dragon understands Lucerys’ lost quickly, and he helps an emptiness and bitterness that Lucerys thought would never leave him.

It takes him years before he flies again, and in those years Aemond has earned a place in Lucerys’ life. It was hard, and it still is sometimes. It took years as well to warm up to Vhagar, but eventually Luke understood that it wasn’t truly her fault at the core, she was an ancient dragon that relied on her instincts. The first time Luke decides to fly, he tells Aemond a month prior. The first time he just says “I think I want to fly.” And leaves the room with a shocked on his boots Aemond behind. He doesn’t mention it again until three days later. Aemond is too wary to bring it up so he waits. He knows better than to push Luke when it comes to these topics, still a fragile thread after all those years.

“Would you… commission a saddle for me?” Luke asks, playing with his fingers in that subtly anxious manner that is so familiar to his Queen mother. “I’ve tried, but I still can’t bring myself to do it.”

“Of course. Leave everything to me.” Aemond says, taking his hands and pulling him close slowly; lips pressing to his forehead till Luke sighs in relief.

When the saddle is ready, Aemond tells Luke in the middle of the, long after their coupling when they’re sated and at ease. Lucerys takes a while to give him any type of reaction but eventually he does. He nods and takes Aemond’s fingers in his hands, tracing each one with his own fingertips. “We will try tomorrow.” He says finally. Aemond kisses him good night.

Come morning they’re in the land near the dragonpit where Vhagar sleeps and Grey Ghost, once he decided to leave his cave and permanently make his stay around King’s Landing, keeps his old lady friend company. He has the saddle mounted, it wasn’t an easy task for the dragonkeepers, it took hours to calm him down but Luke convinced him eventually.

Lucerys looks at Aemond when it’s time to climb up, and swallows. “You don’t have to do it now.” Says Aemomd, voice gentle.

Lucerys shakes his head. “I want to.” He looks up and hooks his hand around the ladder, but doesn’t move. “Fly with me.”

“I will. We will be right beside you.”

“No… ride with me.”

Aemond frowns, looking at the saddle. “I don’t think it’s big enough for two, darling.”

Lucerys rolls his eyes. “I will use you as my saddle.” He insists, cheekily. Then his smile falls and his nervousness filters in. “Please?”

“Alright.” He agrees. “But if your dragon throws me overboard it will be your slaying.”

“Dramatic little man,” Luke laughs as he watches with glee how Aemond whispers something to Grey Ghots, making the dragon huff but it stays calm when Aemond starts to climb up to him. Luke finally takes a deep breath, pets the dragon snout and then climbs up.

Once they’re settled, Aemond hooks both of his arms around Lucerys’ waist and settles his chin on his shoulder. “You navigate, I serve as a human seatbelt.” He whispers in his ear, making the other young man shudder and giggle.

“Grey Ghost, sovês!” And just like that, they’re up in the sky again. This time the only fire is that of their tight embrace.

[lilitophidian]

@radiomurdeer ;

In his head he knows they're separate people. Both gave bloody birth to a monster, baby screaming as it drew its first breaths. Dreams were potent; only the fewest traces of the one who birthed him remain untainted, Lilith corrupting each memory, corroding the edges and filling the gaps in with herself.

The day to celebrate motherhood and femininity belongs to her just as much as any other. Something sick stirring within him as he cut his arm, offering himself once more to draw her attention. A bouquet of flowers - handpicked, he'd had to travel quite far for some - and then her other gift. He knew her tastes by now; small baby boy sleeping peacefully, wrapped in bloody swaddling. Others gave their mother clothes, a commercial affair that felt so very trite and unipersonal. And a bit useless, given she could conjure what she desired.

Cradle formed from the ribs of a slain doe, splattered over the asphalt as files circled and nibbled into rotten flesh. They would lay eggs in the heated mush, causing maggots to fester in putrid birth.

A crisp picture shows the monster released in slimy fluids hung in red room, his actual benefactor blinded and killed. Had she truly given him all he wanted? The ones he actually required in life?

It was certainly insufficient if he was present right now in lieu of she.

Shadows would cloak two mortals as hands went straight for the newborn, the rock in arms as she smiled from ear to ear.

" My...My...What a pleasant surprise you have provided for me today. "

Mist would entwine, forcing the blooms to fade in acceptance. The initial bloom of the bouquet is taken into consideration.

ONE WOULD NEVER BRING THEMSELVES TO RID OF SUCH EVEN WHEN DECAYED.

As a result, the flick of such to cleanliness of his fluid seeping. The healing of magical nurses to let his wounds blend in with wildflowers in the abyss.

" You know... It is critical that men pay attention to what women appreciate. The tastes. The interests. Oh....You are just full of surprises, aren't you, Alastor? "

Glee was showered with accolades as she brushed her claw across the sleeping bundle's nose.

" You are aware of what I do with children, right? They are as....Sweet as cherubs...This one? Oh, I am sure he would grow up to be someone with similar tendencies to your father. He smells opulent. "

Now, little fingers would touch her lips. The threat will gradually become apparent. Could he manage such a situation?

[wisedawn13]

#xiantober Day 25: Cookxian

Wei Ying is the proud owner of a small spicy noodle shop. It's a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, which obviously means his noodles are the best (true) and he has a slew of regulars bringing him a steady income. He loves his little shop.

He works most days, cooking the noodles with love. He has a couple of others on staff, but he's the main cook.

Wei Ying loves the motion of making the noodles. The feel of the dough moulding beneath his hands is soothing to him.

The specialty is spicy noodles, as advertised.

But one day, Mo Xuanyu sidles up to him as he's cooking a batch of noodles.

"New table requested to talk to you. The hot one asked for no spice," he says.

Wei Ying blinks and turns to look at him incredulously. "No spice? At all?"

Mo Xuanyu shrugs. "Go ask for yourself."

Wei Ying huffs, instructing Mo Xuanyu to take over the cooking noodles as Wei Ying walks out to the seating area to find the newly seated table of four.

"Hi, can I help you..." Wei Ying trails off, smile melting into a stunned look as his eyes land on a truly stunning man.

"Apologies," the man says in a deep, smooth voice. "I am... unused to spice and was wondering if it were possible for me to order a meal without spice."

Wei Ying's brain takes a moment to jump-start and actually process the words. Once he does, he smirks flirtatiously.

"Oh, sure. I wouldn't want to be too hot for you to handle," he says with a wink. "I mean, my noodles. But I'm sure we can build up a tolerance if you ever come back around."

He watches with glee as the man's ears take on a rosy hue and his companions giggle to themselves.

"I'll make a spice exception for you," he finishes.

The man nods solemnly. "Thank you."

Wei Ying smiles brightly, not sparing any mind to the other customers at the table, and then he walks back to get started on the order.

He cooks up a batch with no spice, giving extra care.

The noodles look sad without the lively colour of spices. Despite that, he works extra hard on making the presentation of the bowl look as good as possible before he brings it out himself, Mo Xuanyu brings out the rest of the order.

Wei Ying smiles to himself as he leaves.

Friday evening one week later, that same beautiful man walks in. Wei Ying smiles and makes his way over.

"Ah, welcome back! Here for another bowl of spiceless noddles?" he teases.

"Mn, I was actually wondering if you could help me build up my spice tolerance."

Wei Ying gapes. "Really?"

The man nods.

"Okay!" he exclaims, far too excited about the fact that he's going to be helping a complete stranger build up a spice tolerance so he can eat good food. "Since I'm going to be helping you, can I have your name?"

"Lan Zhan."

"Lan Zhan... You have a lovely name. I'm Wei Ying!"

The man—Lan Zhan seems to smile ever so slightly. "Pleasure to meet you, Wei Ying."

The sound of his name in that voice makes something shift inside of him. He takes a shuttering breath. "Well! I'll get started on your meal!"

Wei Ying cooks up a batch and adds the smallest amount of spice he can. It looks rather sad if he's being honest, but it's something. He smiles as he brings it out and lets out a started laugh when Lan Zhan coughs after his first bite. He really has no spice tolerance.

That becomes a weekly occurrence. Lan Zhan comes in on Friday after work and Wei Ying greets him, makes him a meal with slightly more spice than last week, and Lan Zhan eats it (and coughs).

They gradually start chatting when Lan Zhan comes in, getting to know each other more.

Wei Ying really enjoys talking with Lan Zhan. He's quiet and reserved, but also smart and funny and kind. Wei Ying enjoys every moment he gets to spend with Lan Zhan.

Weeks pass and it turns into months. Wei Ying eventually asks for Lan Zhan's number so they can chat more.

Lan Zhan gives it easily and they start talking every day.

A few weeks after that, Lan Zhan asks Wei Ying out on a date.

Wei Ying happily agrees and they have the best time.

Lan Zhan keeps coming to his shop every Friday for a slightly spicier meal.

Three years after the first time they met, Lan Zhan is able to handle Wei Ying level spice.

Wei Ying proposes the moment Lan Zhan finishes his meal.

Lan Zhan accepts saying, "Now you know I can handle your heat."

Wei Ying laughs so hard he cries. And cries because he said yes.

They have a small wedding with a spicy noodle challenge and they laugh together as they watch people try and fail to handle the spice they both are now able to.

Lan Zhan still prefers blander meals, but he enjoys being able to share the food Wei Ying loves.

Wei Ying has never been happier and he is ever grateful to Lan Zhan's coworker who suggested they go to his noodle shop.

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