#his craft and its reception

[smallandalmosthonest]

i say this as a buddie and bucktommy shipper but also fundamentally i say this as a performing artist: i cannot imagine being an artist whose breakout role has been an anchor character for eight seasons on a huge network show and the only fucking interview questions i get asked are about which of my colleague’s characters i’m kissing or not kissing. he should be allowed to bite people perhaps maim them a bit

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

˖✧ The Jackpot

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: You join Arthur and the boys for a job on the Grand Korrigan riverboat where you act as Arthur’s lap girl. The man in question is more than excited about this decision. ✦ Warnings: Guns, mention of shooting, swearing, SMUT, oral (reader receiving), edging if you squint, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 3,8k ✦ a/n: A big heartwarming thank you to @zae-heeyyy!! Who took the time to correct my dumb spelling and give me her thoughts on this before publishing it! Please go check her work, I swear it won't disappoint! Also: pictures are not mine! I usually try to use a pic for Arthur from my own playthrough but I'm fcking stuck on Guarma rn. Found them on Pinterest.

Dim lights are flickering all around you, making the golden ornaments of the luxurious place you're in shine like a thousand stars. You couldn't believe this gigantic reception room, gratified by a bar, a grand piano, and of course, three elegant poker tables, was actually floating on water right now, as you were on the Grand Korrigan boat, the jewel of its kind, den of the richest gentlemen in St. Denis, in search for some amusement and of course, even more money.

Trelawny and Herr Strauss had plotted a well-crafted deal that could earn a lot of money for the gang. Along with Javier disguised as one of the guards, Arthur would act as a new wealthy businessman who had just made a fortune in oil. Strauss would give him signals during his poker game, which guaranteed him to win considering Trelawny had made a friend out of the dealer.

You? You'd play his mistress, sitting on his lap during the game to make the scene look more convincing. On top of that, you had been able to hide a little gun in a hidden pocket in the underside of your dress, guaranteeing some extra protection, which wasn't a bad idea considering the Grand Korrigan was heavily armed and neither Arthur, Trelawny nor Strauss had one.

So here you were, thriving in your role, comfortably sitting on Arthur's lap, hands wrapped around his neck, both legs hanging on his left side. His arms were enveloping you, hands resting on the edge of the table as he was focusing on his cards.

Well, more like trying to focus, actually.

Maybe it was because you two had started a quite passionate relationship a few weeks ago, sneaking in each other's tent, simple kisses and whispers in the night quickly turning into something more, the both of you having cravings to fulfill.

Maybe it was because Trelawny, the damned man, had chosen a particularly suggestive dress for you to wear, comforting your play considering wives weren't allowed at the poker tables, only work girls and such, your cleavage on full display for his immoral eyes.

Maybe it was the way he could feel the round and warm flesh of your ass even through the fabric of your clothes, right where he wanted to, making his brain impossible to function properly, desperately trying to keep the hardness between his legs to stay in line.

Either way, Arthur had to make enormous efforts to focus on the job and was frankly relieved Strauss was telling him what to do; despite being a pretty good poker player, he would never have been able to win the easiest of games in this state.

Strauss told him to go all-in. He did. You smiled, you would have lied saying you weren't enjoying yourself right now. You had known far worse jobs than playing Arthur's lover. Much to your surprise, he had played a really convincing character through the night too, his usual mumbling far gone, replaced by a bright and confident speech and a cheeky grin that was making you want to kiss it even more. In fact, you wanted to take care of him just to see this cocky smirk flatter under your touch, replaced by a pleasured expression on his handsome face.

It was easy to say both of you were acting pretty good, but inside felt like two teenagers in love.

Arthur had won another hand, men were starting to leave the table, angry. It was only you both and the target now, an opulent man known as Desmond Blythe, loaded with money thanks to his hosiery business.

You pulled a cigarette out of Arthur's pocket along with a match, and you felt his breath hitch for an instant when you slipped your hand in it. Rubbing the match against the wood of the table, you lighted the cigarette casually, little flame illuminating a thin grin on your lips. You took a small drag on it to make sure the tobacco had plainly burnt, then you placed the cigarette in front of Arthur's lips, holding it for him between your index and middle finger, so that he could smoke on it while keeping both his hands on his cards.

It was downright one of the hottest things anybody had done to him and he was starting to lose it. Wrapping his lips around your offering and smoking a long drag, he allowed himself to avert his gaze from his opponent for a few seconds, planting his turquoise pupils into yours.

His eyes were half-lidded, long lashes accentuating the languorous gaze he was giving you. Your heart started racing. The power this man had on you was insane, but if only you knew what you were doing to him in return. You had a glimpse of it though, right there in the depths of his two blue diamonds, this so distinctive dark glow of him, direct window on the sinful pit of his urges.

You were sure your own eyes were mirroring it. And it got worse when, after exhaling some smoke, he quickly kissed the palm of your hand, indicating he had smoked enough, the warm sensation of his chapped lips on your skin giving you goosebumps. His eyes went back to Blythe, and you exhaled as if you had been holding your breath during the whole time you had locked eyes.

You retrieved your hand, taking a drag yourself on the cigarette after him, loving the idea of sharing it with him, of putting your lips right where he did a few seconds before, your biased brain telling you you could taste sweet remnants of him there.

Another all-in, another hand won by Arthur who couldn't stop himself from smiling this sly cocky smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Shit, shit!" Blythe shouted, hitting on the table with his fists furiously.

"I guess ma luck held... Is that you done?" Arthur asked him, his tone triumphant while bending over the table to gather his not-so-well-deserved chips. "Or, do you got somethin' else to play with?" He added more lowly, his baritone voice almost making you shiver just hearing it.

"Meaning?" Desmond questioned back, visibly frustrated. Looked like frustration was a popular feeling around this poker table tonight, about the game or other things...

Arthur had gotten up from his chair and you too, now standing by his side, partially glued to his body as he had snaked an arm around your waist while finishing to put in order his chips. He answered using the same taunting, arrogant tone as before.

"Well, I heard there was some big boys on this boat, maybe that's not you, no offense-"

"Sit your and your whore's hillbilly asses down." The rich men cut him off, voice dark and serious.

You felt Arthur's hand grip tighter on your waist. For a faint moment, you thought that his cover would collapse, considering how tense he had gotten hearing him calling you a whore. But the way he was still smiling was almost even more scary, it was a false, threatening one. The kind of smile that hides a cold anger, boiling silently inside.

"Why?" Arthur simply answered, tone brilliantly contained considering the way his muscles were flexing on their own under his fancy suit.

"I got a watch... An expensive one, swiss... a Reutlinger no less. It's in the safe, upstairs. It's worth more than you."

You forced yourself not to cross eyes with Arthur. Your target. He had just confirmed what you were all here for. Perfect, just a bit more of this whole play and Arthur would be able to access the strongbox.

"Okay, I trust ya." Arthur consented while sitting back on his chair, placing you with his two big hands back at your place, on his lap. You were definitely loving this job. You'd have to thank Trelawny for it, someday.

The rest of the game passed just like before, your outlaw ultimately winning once more thanks to your colleague's little trick. Desmond was furious, and you obtained your goal.

Arthur happily got up once again, gently helping you stand, one of his hands naturally resting on your shoulder. Before following the gentleman who was supposed to bring him to the safe, he bent over to you, head brushing against yours, his stubble and hairs tickling your cheeks. He whispered in your ear, voice deep and hoarse, this one voice that was always making your head turn.

"When we're finished here, I'm gonna take care of ya, darlin'."

You sighed, cracking up a sly smirk, your cheeks turning a bit red. These simple words were enough to make the heat between your thighs make itself known; crying out for attention. Being so close like this was allowing you to breathe in his scent, its combination on top of his breath on your ear was a dangerous mix for your sanity. You took the opportunity of having his skin so close to your lips to place a small kiss on his neck, right below his own ear.

Arthur smiled at you, his bright blue eyes sparkling as he took a last look at you before walking off. You sighed softly again, already missing his presence. The wait for some time alone was only making your own needs grow.

You were only hoping the job would end up smoothly.

Of course, it didn't. 

Desmond, sore loser, had accused Arthur of cheating. That and the fact that the guard Javier had knocked off to steal his clothes had appeared out of nowhere yelling to shoot him had set things on fire on the Grand Korrigan, the boat now witness to a heated shooting the Van Der Linde Gang was known for.

You had instantly pulled out your hidden gun and helped Arthur clean up the place thanks to Javier who had thrown him a rifle. The night had ended with your incongruous team jumping straight in the water, swimming back to the shore, a quite odd and armed to the teeth fish shoal. At least, everyone was alive, and you even had obtained a pretty decent amount of money, not even mentioning the watch Strauss had authenticated as a real Reutlinger. Arthur had quickly taken back the precious object from his greedy hands, "well give it back then", which made you laugh to yourself.

True to himself, your cowboy had instructed everyone to separate and get out of the shore, as always after a job. You were all quite a sight, soaked to the bones. As you were greeting everyone a good night, Arthur silently walked to you and grabbed your hand. Even with the water you both had leaking from your clothes to your skin, you could feel how warm his hand was, contrasting yours which was completely freezing cold from having swam in the icy waters. You wondered if this man was even human.

"But you, Miss, are comin' with me." He playfully informed you, not leaving you any choice.

It was not as if you wanted to go anywhere else anyway.

"Really now? What d'ya have in mind, cowboy?" You asked him with an equally mischievous tone on your own, your eye glued to the way his hair looked completely soaked, subtle rivulets sliding all the way from it to his neck.

"Maybe we could pay ourselves a well-deserved night in town..." He proposed, voice turning more and more into a low growl as he was letting his desires take the lead on his reason.

"I would love that." You simply agreed, before getting closer to him, tilting your head up to bring your lips to his. He gladly let you, one hand still holding yours, the other gently landing on the side of your face.

The walk to the La Bastille Saloon was supposed to be a short one, but you both looked like you couldn't wait to be there before teasing each other. You would sometimes stop walking to just attack his neck, lips merciless as you sucked and kissed him there. Your taunting acts were often met with his equally heated answer, one of his palms ending on your ass, or your thighs, your wet clothes transparent and glued to your curves not helping him to keep his touch away from these places of your body. Arthur's breath sharpened as he called you his lil minx, and no, darlin’, we can't just do it on the streets.

Finally, after having shocked the barman by arriving at such late hours in completely soaked clothes, which honestly just made the both of you laugh mischievously, you reached your love nest for the night.

And what a nest! Silk sheets, canopy bed, sumptuous decor glistening with the dim lights of the chandeliers. Even the floor looked comfortable, carpeted with some fancy patterns, matching the couch and bed's color. Red, just like passion, just like lust. Red, like the color of your cheeks right now as Arthur had closed the door and was already on his knees, placing you on the edge of the mattress. Red, just like what Arthur was seeing right now, hungry hands pulling your dress up, positioning himself between your thighs.

You looked down at him, his darkened eyes looking at you. You noticed he had ripped off his fancy tie, needing to breathe properly, the heat between you both already making him suffocate. In those moments, his beautiful pupils were always shining with a more murky color, his usual sky blue turning into a more cobalt one. They were staring intensely into yours, expression questioning. A silent demand. You nodded positively, quietly answering. Dooming yourself.

The moment you did, he buried his head between your legs, left hand resting on your hip, holding you gently. His lips started kissing softly on the fabric of your undergarments. His other hand quickly came, helping him in his task by pulling it to the side, granting him access.

The moment his lips met your folds, you let out a moan, unable to resist the feeling he was giving you. He was loving it, his ears getting redder as he was more and more aroused himself. He was so big between your thighs, his shoulders were spreading them almost completely open.

He licked in a long, slow movement all the way to the top of your pussy, making you sigh in pleasure already, hips jerking against his head, begging for more.

"Easy, girl... I've got ya." He soothed you hoarsely, left hand holding you more firmly to prevent you from crushing him totally. Nevertheless, he took your eagerness into account; he couldn't deny you anything. Not when it came to sex. Not when you were so beautiful in this ostentatious dress. Not when he had grown more and more found of you, even if he was refusing to admit it to himself completely for now.

He brought his lips on the top of your core, tongue gently circling around this so special knot of nerves, his stubble scratching pleasantly against your skin, bringing you even more sensations.

It was already so good, Arthur's mouth showing you no pity, licking, sucking, kissing, as if you were becoming the only food he could ever feast on, the only oxygen he could breathe with. The sight of his broken nose buried beneath your skin, as if he was searching to go even deeper within you was almost too much for you to handle. Your hands that were gripping the sheets had now found the top of his head, spurring him to continue, please please please, Arthur, more, or you could have died right here on the fancy bed of the La Bastille Saloon.

Arthur's tongue answered your begging call, lapping your sensitive spot faster, harder. How the Hell was that man so good at pleasuring a woman? That, sinful, dirty man, just like the sounds you were letting out right now.

Your vision started to blur, the back of your head sinking onto the mattress, your back arching deliciously, and you were going to let him know just how close you were until he stopped all of a sudden.

"A-Arthur!" You protested, head snapping back at him, eyes pleading, tone both offended and needy as his name had sounded more like a whine when it had felt from your mouth.

He smiled cockily at you from where he was, his mouth looking wet with your arousal. He loved it, he loved being responsible for it.

"I'm here, girl... I jus' need ya too much right now. Lemme just..."

His voice was now a low rumble, coming from the depth of his chest. You watched as he quickly ripped off his clothes with little care for them. Trelawny would have shouted at how he was treating one of the most expensive suits he had ever brought.

But he didn't care about the suit. And neither do you, as your eyes were devouring every inch of his flesh that was appearing under them. The sight of a completely naked Arthur always had the same effect on you, no matter how many times you already had seen it.

His muscular body looked like it had been carved by Angels. No, more likely by an angry, dark God, who would have sculpted him from a hard and brutal material, his many scars and blurs a remnant of it. You could almost picture his tools molding your lover's broad chest and shoulders with sharp, furious hammer blows. His powerful arms and legs had received the same treatment, as if the deity wanted to pass on all of his brutal force into his creation. And his cock was definitely no exception to it.

And yet, this massive force of nature was blushing under your gaze. He couldn't have resisted the hurtful sensation of emptiness around his shaft, one of his hands now giving himself a few strokes to try and relieve some of it. His eyes closed in a frown for a few seconds, your pussy burned at this unholy scenery he was offering you.

You were in such a state of need it was almost depraved. You quickly got rid of your own clothes, tossing them somewhere on the floor of the room, needing to share this intimacy with him, to feel his skin against yours.

"Oh, please... Arthur, jus' take me..." You asked yourself before he could probe your adequation. You knew him well now, you already knew the next words he was going to speak would be another demand to make sure you truly wanted this.

He seemed to enjoy how you had forecasted it, his eyes opening again to look at you, his cock hardening even more, precum slowly leaking from its top, wasting all the efforts he had done to relieve it a bit.

"If that's what you want darlin'... I'm your man." He answered in a growl, climbing next to you on the bed.

You weren't sure why but his last words had made your heart swell in your chest. You were sure, deep down inside of you, that he meant it in another way. He really had become yours, and you, his. Lost in your thoughts, you let him handle you gently, placing you on your belly against the silk sheets, lying himself on top of you, legs between yours.

You slightly moved your rear up against his erection, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. Saying he had loved it was an understatement; he had been thinking about doing this with you since you had sat on him on the riverboat.

Using his right hand, he placed his cock against your entrance, and finally started pushing, your pussy already ready for him thanks to his ministrations, your mouth mewling at the sensation. Your perfect, hot walls were finally enveloping him, and he tried his best not to come just from that intense feeling alone.

He was so big and tall behind you, his head could reach yours and he buried it onto the crook of your neck, his hair still wet offering you a cold feel, contrasting with his whole hot chest pressed on your back, making you feel as if a literal inferno was burning it. He slowly started to pull back, only to shove himself in you again, starting a slow but intense back and forth.

"God, damn it... 'Feel so good girl..." He mumbled against your skin, his arms encircling you from both sides, caging you under his tall figure.

You sighed at his praise, wanting to answer something to compliment him back, but he snapped his hips just at the same time, making you shut your eyes close, and moan louder than before. Your voice was starting to crack under the amount of pleasure he was bringing to you, hard shaft brushing this deep spot within your core every time his hips moved, hitting just right where you needed him to.

He had noticed, and it was only making him lose his mind even more, unable to keep his pace slow, letting his body unleashed. He had waited this whole night to bury himself in you, listened to this moron calling you names without having the right to punch his goddamn idiotic face. He couldn't hold anything back anymore.

He started thrusting more frantically, pistoning his cock in and out of you so fast and hard he was now fucking you onto the bed. His right hand grabbed a fistful of your ass, the feeling of it colliding with his pelvis with every thrust making him insane, the other one next to your left shoulder, preventing him from crushing you completely.

You could feel it, the familiar feeling, the divine relief, building more and more thanks to him, the pace increasing your pleasure. Feeling how impossibly hard his sex had gotten in your cunt, you knew he was close too. This simple fact was the last push to your deliverance.

"A-Arthur! God, yes!" You screamed, unable to form any coherent thoughts, existing simply for this, for this moment with him, naked on the bed of this saloon. Just you and him.

"Oh, darlin’, shit!" Your orgasm had made your walls clench even more around his dick, exploding his limit. He quickly removed himself from you, and finished at the last second on your back and ass, his burning release painting your skin in flaming spurts. His very own sinful art piece.

The room felt silent again. The air stifling from your lovemaking, the only sounds being heard were your sharp, quickened breaths. Arthur took a few seconds to collect himself, feeling better and so satisfied, almost euphoric. Turning your head to the side, you took a glimpse of your lover's gorgeous state. Hair messy, cheeks and ears crimson, sweat dripping everywhere on his skin, chest rising and falling in big, profound exhales.

He then grabbed a piece of fabric from one of the wardrobes to gently wipe off his seed from you, and tossed it away, wanting nothing more but to rest against you now. A perfect contrast, from an agitated, stormy sea to a quiet, secret cove. As if you were the only one who could see him like this, vulnerable, loving even.

You watched him lay by your side on his back, your head still feeling dizzy, slowly coming back from a world of fantasies. You snuggled against him, resting your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you, feeling spent but so, so happy. And you felt the same. Still naked, skin against skin, heart beating together, just the two of you.

Tonight had been quite something, and despite having won a few thousand dollars, it was definitely not money that was making Arthur feel like he had hit the jackpot.

[wethotcrazy]

Tsunoda or Verstappen x princess reader where the media catches them?

Max Verstappen’s Mystery Girlfriend Revealed—She’s a Princess!

pairing: Max Verstappen x Princess! Reader

word count: 951

a little short fic im a little unsure of this but i think its cute. i have never written for max so i hope you like it.

The hum of engines filled the air as the Belgium Grand Prix roared to life, the energy palpable even beyond the track. It was in this electric atmosphere that Max Verstappen, Red Bull’s ace driver and reigning Formula 1 champion, first crossed paths with Princess Y/N of a small but wealthy European kingdom. She wasn’t there for pomp or ceremony, but for her unshakable love of motorsports. Her fascination with engineering had brought her into the paddock, under the guise of a “guest of honor,” though she was far more interested in torque ratios than champagne receptions.

Max had noticed her standing near the Red Bull garage, her eyes sparkling as she watched the pit crew fine-tune his RB19. She wasn’t like the other VIPs who came to the paddock for photo ops. She asked questions—intelligent ones—about the aerodynamics of the car and how it adapted to the tricky Spa-Francorchamps circuit. When she turned to him and asked, “How does it feel to handle Eau Rouge at full throttle?” Max couldn’t help but grin.

“Pretty thrilling,” he replied, his Dutch accent softening his words. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

She blushed but didn’t shy away. “I might’ve simulated it once or twice,” she admitted, and Max’s laughter was genuine.

From that moment on, they were inseparable that weekend. Between practice sessions and qualifying, Max found himself looking for Y/N in the crowd, her royal guards standing at a respectful distance while she chatted animatedly with engineers. She was intelligent, quick-witted, and refreshingly down-to-earth for someone who could probably claim ownership of a castle or two.

By the end of the weekend, they had exchanged numbers. What started as lighthearted banter and shared interests evolved into long, late-night calls discussing everything from racing to the struggles of living under the public eye. Max learned that Y/N had been fascinated by motorsports since she was a child, but her royal duties had always kept her at arm’s length from the world she loved. Y/N, in turn, found Max’s straightforwardness and his dedication to his craft intoxicating.

From then on, Max and Y/N were inseparable. Between races and royal engagements, they carved out moments just for themselves. Sometimes it was a late-night call after a long day, Max’s voice soothing as he recounted the chaos of the paddock. Other times, it was quiet afternoons strolling through parks in cities they barely knew, their laughter blending into the rustle of leaves.

Max was careful not to share too much in public, but he couldn’t entirely hide his happiness. In interviews, he would casually mention his “girlfriend” with a sly smile, never elaborating but always leaving fans buzzing. Clips of him dropping hints circulated endlessly on social media, fueling theories and debates about who the mysterious woman could be.

Their secret didn’t last forever.

It happened one sunny afternoon in Monaco, where Max and Y/N were enjoying a rare day off together. A candid photo surfaced online of them sitting on the edge of the marina, her hand resting lightly on his knee as they watched the boats sway in the harbor.

The internet exploded. “Max Verstappen’s Mystery Girlfriend Revealed—She’s a Princess!” read one headline. Others followed, speculating wildly about their relationship.

For a moment, the world seemed to close in. Reporters hounded them both, and social media was flooded with opinions—some supportive, others less so.

Max, however, remained unfazed. During the next press conference, when asked about the rumors, he simply shrugged. “We’re happy,” he said, his voice steady. “That’s all that matters to me.”Y/N faced her own challenges. Her advisors worried about the implications of such a public relationship, but she met their concerns with quiet resolve. “Max is kind, driven, and genuine,” she told them firmly. “He makes me happy. This is not up for discussion.”

Despite the noise, they didn’t let the spotlight dim their connection. Instead, it seemed to strengthen their bond. Y/N became a quiet force in Max’s corner, offering him calm reassurance during stressful race weekends. Max, in turn, encouraged Y/N to pursue her passion for engineering, helping her connect with teams and experts in the field. Their love only grew stronger in the face of scrutiny. Between the whirlwind of races and royal duties, they found comfort in each other. Y/N often joined Max in the paddock, where she quickly became a beloved presence. Mechanics respected her keen interest in their work, while Max’s team appreciated the grounding influence she brought to his often-hectic life.

On their quieter days, they escaped the chaos entirely. Max taught her how to kart, laughing as she spun out on the first few laps but cheering her on when she finally nailed a clean run. Y/N, in turn, introduced him to her world—showing him the intricacies of royal life and sneaking him into her palace’s private library, where they would talk for hours.

At the Austrian Grand Prix, Max took her on a private tour of the Red Bull factory. Watching her excitement as she examined the intricate details of the car made his heart swell. “You’re amazing,” he told her, his voice filled with awe.

Though their story seemed unlikely to outsiders, it made perfect sense to them. They shared a love for pushing limits, for the thrill of speed and the beauty of innovation. Most importantly, they found in each other a kindred spirit—someone who understood the weight of expectation but refused to let it define them.

And so, they continued forward, hand in hand, their hearts racing not just for the thrill of the track or the demands of the crown, but for each other.

[sleepymarimo]

𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕒 𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙!

summary: just a small list of qualities & traits which may be ideal for these op men when it comes to choosing a partner pairing(s): luffy x reader, zoro x reader, sanji x reader notes: based off my personal opinion of the monster trio and what we've seen from them! i also tried to utilize their alleged mbti and enneagram types. i totally didn't get butthurt while writing this (cries)

luffy

adaptability. luffy marches to the beat of his own drum. a dinner date might quickly turn into infiltrating an underground criminal organization. its just how he is! having a partner that can roll with the punches, maybe even enjoy it, without feeling neglected, is ideal

he doesn't like the predictable and will take any opportunity to spice things up. someone who panics when plans go off track, who finds comfort in having routine, may not be the best match for him

commitment. someone who is flaky and can't keep their promises is a big red flag for him. he craves connection and loyalty. despite his childlike enthusiasm, his feelings run deep. his pain isn't something he openly shares, as he opts to express himself happily, but he will open up his his soul to you if he knows you'll be there, no matter what

following the first point of adaptability, know that luffy will show up for you regardless of the situation. a date or outing or fight might not go as planned, but he won't leave you hanging he will want to take on your big emotions too. he loves feeling, he loves knowing your feelings and understanding you. while he might not necessarily agree with all perspectives, he can see where people come from. be open with him, don't hide

creativity. this captain hates boredom and routine. he does things his own way and enjoys thinking outside the box. his partner would likely be the same way. a big imagination and a lot of enthusiasm draws luffy in. if you constantly shut down ideas without offering any of your own, it frustrates him

he would love doing things like arts and crafts with a partner. anything hands on will catch his attention! loves talking about the future. goes back to the point regarding commitment. he doesn't care if the ideas you offer are crazy or unrealistic, as long as you have him in mind for what's to come, he's all in luffy attracts people, its just how he is. to keep him actively interested, he needs excitement. if the two of you are cuddling and you're looking too cozy, he might have to start a tickle fight

vocal and affectionate. luffy feeds off the energy around him and gets satisfaction from others. he loves seeing his nakama happy and the same goes for his partner. it could be as small as a smile or as grand as tackling him to the ground- let him know, verbally and through action, that he's doing well and making you happy!

words of affirmation and quality time! he'll never get tired of hearing you talk and very much prefers it over silence. even if it's the most obscure and obtuse topic, he doesn't care as long as it comes out of your mouth a partner who is easily embarrassed by pda may not be the best match for him. luffy has no shame and will not hesitate to pull you to his side and drag you off towards whatever adventure he has planned. he'll be confused and maybe even slightly offended if you push him off

patient. luffy is not the most easy person to deal with at times. along with being patient, he would love a partner who revels in the attention he gives and can also reciprocate it without getting too overwhelmed.

however, sometimes, you want your own space and time to do things. luffy might take this as a personal hit to himself, since he's much more receptive to the criticism of his partner. this is why he would also do well with someone who is...

gentle and constructive. don't snap at the man or suddenly grow distant! if he truly loves you and is in deep, he'll be hurt and might even force himself deal with an issue in a bid to 'solve' the conflict. taking the time to explain things to him while giving him a healthy dose of affection will work wonders

will very much ask what he did wrong if you ever say you want time away from him. his extroversion makes him able to be in the company of others for extended periods of time without needing to take time for himself a partner with emotional awareness would be great for him. he feels a lot, and he feels it very strongly, so having someone who can read him is great!

likes unique features! freckles, scars, killer eyeliner... luffy is drawn to people who look interesting. before he really gets to know you, he'll probably associate you with whatever he finds most captivating about you!

zoro

independent. this man values his ambitions. having a partner with a full and functional life, outside of the relationship, is something he would admire and respect. he sees a relationships as a union between two individuals, very much egalitarian. he's loyal and passionate to the core, would do most anything for his partner, but he also expects the same in return. all or nothing.

you recognizing him as a being, as an individual, really makes him comfortable. codependency and clinginess, too many expectations will have him retreating talks of marriage and future endeavours might also be touchy. as much as he craves stability in a long term partnership, he also values his freedom and being unconstrained by expectations. don’t set marriage dates or make a ‘plan’ for the relationship. he loves you, but he truthfully doesn't know what the future holds. all he knows is that he wants you now. the act of choosing you in the first place shows that he has you in mind for the future- he won’t get into a relationship for fun or for the sake of keeping his bed warm. he takes it more seriously than you think!!

private. you're a team, a unit. if something comes up, talk to him first. he gets needing to consult with friends for outside perspective, that's understandable, and he might even do the same. but giving your friends the hot gossip, spilling details about your relationship- it ticks him off

does not necessarily mean he prefers a quiet partner! he enjoys listening to his partner and participating in engaging conversations about obscure topics. does not care much for drama can be quite empathetic, but you have to let him know how you're feeling. he won't figure it out on his own, but once he understands where you’re coming from he becomes a lot more reasonable.

respectful. his pride is important to him. he doesn't like embarrassing himself or being embarrassed. he enjoys your teasing and affection in private, but in public prefers to hold himself to a certain standard

if you ignore these boundaries, maybe embarrass him for the sake of a good laugh, he gets a bit irritated, even if it is only for lighthearted fun preferring to do things alone, zoro knows he's starting to fall for someone when he lets someone join him for the smallest of things. could be polishing swords in silence or sharing some sake- the fact that he wants you around, even if he isn't too outwardly expressive of it, is meaningful. respect and cherish the time he gives you, don't complain of boredom or head off to do something with someone else loves you and adores you, but will not put you on a pedestal. will point out hypocrisies and double standards. don't take this point the wrong way, because once he's committed, he's committed, and won't let the relationship go that easily, but he respects himself he expects you to call him out if he ever treads over your boundaries as well

understanding & perceptive. this man very much does things how he wants, when he wants. not to say that he's inconsiderate, not at all, but sometimes things come up that simply demand his attention. if he's on his way to meet up with you and sees some marines unjustly terrorizing civilians, he won't think twice. know that in his heart, he'd never intentionally do anything to hurt you

if he chooses you, he expects you to have trust in him and his intentions. having a partner that can read between the lines and see the magnitude of his actions is something he appreciates he won't outright ask for much of his partner, so, ideally, they should be perceptive enough to give him what he needs. show him and tell him that you appreciate what he does acts of service and physical touch!

realistic, or perhaps even idealistic. he admires those with lofty goals and ambitions, those who are aware that what they seek won't just be handed to them on a silver platter

relationship-wise, zoro would appreciate a partner who is aware of the facts…without getting butthurt yes, sometimes he wants time alone, even from you. no, it doesn't mean that he doesn't love you. yes, he'll protect you with all his heart and soul, but you can't expect him to hold your hand on every island you stop on. you're pirates- this won't be a sappy love story

supportive. a partner who shows interest in his craft will get his attention. you don't have to be an expert on the ways of the blade, but asking him questions and allowing him a chance to engage in something he's passionate about will draw him out of his shell

asking about swordsmanship is probably what drew him to you in the first place. he won't bother with conversation if its not something he's interested in, so its a good way to get his attention! similarly, if he's genuinely in love, he would go the extra mile to learn about his partner's interests and passions. he is an intense lover

zoro is a bit indifferent when it comes to physical preferences. he's very much drawn towards character above all else. however, in my opinion, due to his friendship with kuina, he does tend to have a soft spot for those with darker hair and eyes, maybe even someone taller than him

sanji

generosity. sanji is a giver and is not afraid to show it. it's a double edged sword. he's shown that he is willing to sell himself short, willing to put himself down if its for the sake of others. while he enjoys giving, revels in it, he desperately craves someone who can coddle and spoil him rotten

ideal partner would not be embarrassed of him or push him away. he's a sensitive soul, afraid of abandonment from the one he loves most. accepting his love with a smile and returning it with equal or greater fervor would send him over the moon partner does not necessarily have to be super bubbly or extroverted to check this point! if sanji loves you, he knows you. a quiet partner who gives him a smile and squeezes his hand can be just as reassuring as an extroverted partner pulling him into a hug

emotional depth. this man would merge his very soul with yours if it were possible. sees partnership as a bond that will transcend all else and won't accept anything less. allowing him to explore you, all of you, will not only make him feel trusted, but truly connected to you

seconding this, a partner who can be open with him would be ideal. if you close yourself off, hesitate to divulge information, he might feel that he is doing something wrong. he understands needing time to process emotions, so if that's what you want, then at least make him aware of that he will be just as open. you're his safe space, his haven

committed and idealistic. this is a man who loves to talk about the future. marriage, kids, how your kitchen will look like… it warms his heart and makes him feel secure. it lets him know, even if some of the ideas are outlandish, that you have him in mind for the long run

partners that find discussing such commitments to be nerve racking, may make this cook a little panicky. you might not doubt him, but he would wonder why you felt the need to avoid the topic. did you not see him as someone you could be with in the future? talk with him, dream big with him

organized and orderly. he recognizes the effort it takes to formulate a plan and execute it, especially when it comes to dates and gifts. in the moment, spontaneous outings are meaningful, but don't hold as much weight as something which requires effort and is tailored to his partners wants and needs. he's a planner and likes when things fall into place

also ties to previous point about commitment. he finds comfort in planning a future with you and discussing your desires

compassionate. ties back to first point relating to generosity. sanji will very much push aside his own wants as long as you're happy. having a partner who can get him to speak up for himself, and actually listen, would be a dream come true. when he treats you and spoils you, he expects nothing in return. its just how he is. reciprocating and giving him his own spot in the limelight will heal him in ways he didn't even know he needed

unlike the marimo, sanji will put you on a pedestal. he thinks you're an angel, incapable of wrong. sanji needs a compassionate partner who recognizes this and gently reminds him that it takes two to form a partnership, and that he is just as worthy of love sanji does not do well being criticized by his partner. lack of reciprocation and a general disinterest in him will turn him away

reliability. he'll be in your corner, always. in a pirate world where everything is tumultuous and unpredictable, he finds solace in knowing that his partner is waiting for him. you being there for him, regardless of the situation, makes him even more eager to please you and show you that he's worthy of your affections. the simple act of showing up means more to him than most

sanji has been known to indulge in the finer things. aesthetics and looks are what catch his attention and he floods most any pretty thing with affection. however, its that emotional connection and depth, authenticity and passion, which ultimately keep him hooked

disclaimer: don't worry if you lack any of these traits- any relationship can work! these things work in mysterious ways... as long as there's proper communication and love, i'm sure any of these one piece men would adore being with you ૮ • ﻌ - ა

[beegomess]

Your marriage with them || Slytherin Boys

Summary: This time, the title describes it well… Warnings: None.

Requests are open!

Blaise Zabini

It was on a sunny afternoon, at one of the idyllic country estates of the Zabini family, that your wedding with Blaise came to life. The setting, though unpretentious, exuded a serene elegance. The estate was situated on a vast property, surrounded by green fields stretching as far as the eye could see. The ceremony took place outdoors, under a clear blue sky, with subtle decor that appeared natural and unpretentious, yet it was evident that every detail had been carefully chosen.

The altar was a simple structure, adorned with white and green flowers that blended perfectly with the surroundings. The chairs, arranged in elegant lines, were dressed in soft-toned linen fabrics, creating a pleasant contrast with the green field backdrop. The sound of birds singing and the gentle breeze completed the tranquil and intimate atmosphere of the event.

The guests, many of whom were close friends and family, appreciated the sophisticated simplicity of the setting. The reception featured an outdoor dinner with refined dishes served informally, allowing everyone to feel at ease. The day concluded with a sunset celebration, marked by lively conversations and laughter, in an environment where elegance met natural beauty.

Draco Malfoy

The wedding with Draco was a spectacle of grandeur and tradition, reflecting the prestige and magnitude of the families involved. The ceremony took place in a splendidly decorated church, whose interior was an imposing example of classical architecture. The environment was filled with luxury and refinement: crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting a soft light over the meticulously crafted details.

The altar, adorned with opulent floral arrangements in shades of white and gold, seemed like an extension of the church itself, harmonizing with the columns and walls embellished with marble details and gold frames. The main aisle was filled with guests, all dressed in their finest attire, giving the event a royal air. The sound of organ music filled the space, creating a solemn and majestic atmosphere.

The reception was equally grand, held in the main hall of the Malfoy family estate, distinguished by its refined decor and luxurious details. Guests enjoyed an exquisite banquet and danced to the music of a live orchestra. Every moment of the wedding was planned to emphasize the significance of the occasion and the connection between the families, creating a celebration that will be remembered as a milestone of elegance and prestige.

Lorenzo Berkshire

Your wedding with Lorenzo Berkshire took place in a serene field, immersed in the simplicity and natural beauty that characterize the Berkshire family aesthetic. The location was carefully chosen to offer a tranquil and elegant setting, with robust trees and blooming white flowers.

The ceremony was held outdoors, with a simple yet sophisticated altar, decorated with white and green floral arrangements that complemented the natural palette of the field. The chairs, arranged in a semicircle, were dressed with linen covers and ribbons in neutral tones, blending with the surroundings. The blue sky and gentle sun created a pleasant and calm atmosphere for the celebration.

The reception followed the same refined simplicity, with an outdoor dinner served under elegantly decorated tents. The menu included light and sophisticated dishes prepared with fresh, high-quality ingredients. The overall atmosphere was one of relaxation and intimate celebration, with friends and family enjoying a natural and elegant setting where the beauty of the field complemented the discreet sophistication of the occasion.

Mattheo Riddle

The wedding with Mattheo had to be conducted quickly and practically, reflecting the urgency with which both of you wanted to seal the union. The ceremony took place in a small and cozy garden at the back of one of his family's houses. The decor, done in a hurry, was simple but had a touch of homey charm.

The space was decorated with field flowers and candles, creating an intimate and warm environment. The ceremony area was improvised with an arch of white and green flowers, giving the place a fresh look. Simple wooden chairs were arranged around the makeshift altar, where the vows were exchanged.

The few friends present shared a simple feast, with homemade food and drinks. The celebration was marked by a sense of urgency and love, with everyone present understanding the importance and intensity of the moment. The simplicity of the event reflected Mattheo's and your desire to unite quickly, and even in its simplicity, the love and dedication were clearly present.

Theodore Nott

The wedding took place at the end of a golden afternoon, in a seaside garden belonging to a majestic house on the coast. The setting was breathtaking, with the deep blue sea shimmering under the soft light of the setting sun.

The garden was adorned with natural and refined decor, with white flowers and green arrangements that enhanced the beauty of the environment. The chairs were arranged in a semicircle configuration, offering panoramic views of the sea and the sunset-lit horizon. The altar, simple yet elegant, was framed by a curtain of flowers and leaves, matching the garden’s color palette.

The ceremony was enveloped in a warm glow, as the last rays of sun reflected on the sea, creating a magical and romantic atmosphere. The reception continued outdoors, with a sophisticated dinner served under a large tree, where guests enjoyed the spectacular view and relaxed ambiance. The combination of the natural setting with elegant details created a dreamlike scene, capturing the essence of love and glamour.

Tom Riddle

The wedding with Tom was an urgent and symbolic celebration, held in the Chamber of Secrets, a location that, despite its dark and mysterious character, became the backdrop for a deeply personal and significant moment. The ceremony had to be conducted quickly due to the need to remain hidden, but Tom insisted that all the elements he wanted be present.

The Chamber was temporarily transformed with simple but effective decor. Magical torches cast a soft light on the stone walls, and a series of white candles were placed around the makeshift altar. Discreet floral arrangements, consisting of white lilies and dark flowers, were positioned at strategic points, providing an elegant contrast to the somber environment.

The few carefully selected guests were present to witness the union, marked by sincere vows and a sense of urgency. The ceremony was brief and intense, reflecting both the gravity of the situation and Tom’s deep desire to seal the union as quickly as possible. Despite the improvised decor and unusual setting, the moment was filled with significance, with Tom ensuring that every detail reflected his commitment and desire to build a future together, regardless of the circumstances.

_______________________________

masterlist

I loved writing this, and I hope you enjoyed it too!!

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

[theelfsongbard]

Jealous Astarion Drabbles

Cw: brief mention of breeding

Word count: 1235 words

Astarion glares daggers through the canvas of his tent in your general direction. He hated the way you made him feel weak and uneasy. Every reassurance, each offer extended to him to drink from you, the way your kindness weaves its way into little unnecessary niceties that you give your companions. He couldn’t understand why your actions threatened to make him fall for an illusion of trust. There must be a catch to all of this. There always is, he just hasn’t found it yet. You are an unexpected problem because despite his racing mind telling him otherwise, he can feel himself slipping into complacency around you. He finds himself enjoying your company beyond what is needed for a mere travelling companion and he *burns* with a feral desire that he doesn’t understand. He wants to claim you as his own, to fill you and be the only one who can know the whole of you inside and out. Every draw of blood that he takes is a battle to temper his own imaginations before he loses control of his carefully crafted facade.

He wants to act quickly and secure you to him as soon as possible, for he sees the lingering affection in the wizard’s eyes when you draw near. *Competition* is all that repeats in his mind like a resounding threat of a challenge. He doesn’t like Gale, and Gale doesn’t seem to like him, even if it’s not for the same reason. He chooses to believe it is though, only because it fuels his want for you, even in the unsteady waters of his burgeoning emotions.

For now though, he has more pressing urges to attend to and the straining in his trousers just will *not* do.

~~~

The days pass with ever increasing tension for Astarion. Despite the unusually sunny weather they were experiencing that he usually adored, Astarion was feeling absolutely wretched. Wretched and angry. And on top of that, his campmates thought he was jealous. He scoffed as he sat on the ground beside you and Gale, dressing his kill just as you instructed and taught him. Jealousy? It could not be further from the truth.

He was not jealous when he came back from his hunt with his prize only to find you dancing with Wyll. He was not jealous when he saw the way he pulled you close enough for your lips to brush and he was certainly not jealous when The Blade invited you to *practice his swordplay* later on. If he were being honest, Wyll was a man worthy of making anyone swoon, even Astarion. If only his moral compass were less of an impediment, he may have thrown himself at Wyll. But this was the hand he was dealt, and the Blade was threatening his little bid for protection from you. After all, how could he win his favour if he wasn't *The Favourite* in your eyes?

But the way Wyll’s eyes trailed after you as you sauntered over to assess his kill and the way he had put his hands around your waist just moments before made him want to rend the monster hunter to pieces and to announce to him that you were *his* territory. When you weren't looking, he made sure to send what he hoped was a frightening enough message to the warlock, baring his fangs for good measure.

Now, sandwiched between the idle conversation you shared with Gale, he couldn't see how his life could get any worse. His list of competitors was growing and given your warm reception to both, it would only be a matter of time before someone initiated a romantic relationship with you. Astarion was a seducer and had no idea what to do to romance someone. But clearly, it was time for him to start learning if he wanted to make things work. Either that, or it was high time that he started disposing of some of his less savoury companions. The sound of your laughter, genuine and untamed as Gale recounts his shenanigans with his cat is enough to convince him of it.

As his hands work mindlessly, his thoughts drift to something more fun. The smell of you sitting so close beside him sends a pang of familiarity down to his gut and at the same time fills him with arousal and passionate imagination. He thinks of how you might look stretched around his manhood, keening with pleasure as he thrusts into you, filling you full until you're overflowing, over and over until your mess becomes the proof to the entire camp that you are spoken for.

He imagines you below him and on top and all the delicious ways he might have you, wants to nuzzle into your breasts and drink from you as he loses himself in the pleasures of your flesh. And for the first time in an eternity, he even wants to lie with you, holding you close to him your back to his chest, keeping your safe and tucked against him for all eternity. Something stirs in him and he isn't sure if he likes it. This is too tender, too vulnerable and another weakness that he doesn't need.

He's only doing this for protection. Nothing more and nothing less. These are just part of his plans to seduce you, he’s only sorting out the details to make sure everything is perfect.

Mildly, he’s aware of the twitching in his trousers and the slight wetness dribbling from within. Excusing himself rapidly, he stalks off to the forest, away from prying eyes to indulge himself a little. All these thoughts are so distracting and it would do him no good if his campmates saw him in such an unbecoming state.

He needs to be alone for a little while. Yes, he just needs to clear his head because he doesn't need to be thinking about you when he has Cazador, a tadpole and his protection to contend with. But trying times call for trying measures and when he makes sure that he’s far away enough to not be heard or seen, he loosens the ties of his trousers just enough to slip himself free. Already, he knows that he’s going to need a trip down to the river to wash his undergarments, soaked with his arousal as it is. But he can't seem to find himself annoyed by his predicament.

Leaning against a tree, he closes his eyes, wrapping his hand around his length and stroking himself to the thought of you. Imagines you taking him in hand or into your mouth. But his hand is corpse cold, so void of the flush of life you have in you that it brings him back to reality with a growl of frustration. This is nothing compared to how you would feel around him.

And so with increasing vigour he rubs one out, alone and cold in the forest, watching as his seed dribbles and spurts out, landing in the dirt. Wasted. How he would love to stuff you full with it, right up to the brim, keeping it inside you until your belly starts to swell with the evidence of what he has done to you.

If only you knew what kind of effect you had on him. Maybe you would take pity and indulge him.

[stevebabey]

hi rubes!!! i was curious on ur thoughts on what a lazy sunday with steve would look like? esp if its one that like both ur day off and its smth that hasnt happened in a long time

hi angel!! sorry i sat on this one for awhile, i hope i made up for it by making it sooooo lovey dovey <3 0.8k, gn!reader

By some miracle, you're the first awake.

Steve is like a kind of sheep dog— he requires frequent exercise and so, he usually slips a run in the morning before you're even close to awake.

And also because of the shaggy hair and the way he seems to wag an invisible tail when all his favourite people are gathered in the same room, even going around and rounding them up, checking on everyone— Okay, you get the point, analogy over.

Actually, point is, you getting up before Steve like never happens.

Scratch that, you and Steve getting a day off to sleep in on the same day never happens. And even more, Steve very rarely skips his morning run because, y'know, sheep dog and all.

Basically, you figure this whole morning is a wondrous crafted little miracle. You have no plans to waste it.

Peering across your pillow, you watch the rise and fall of Steve's chest as he sleeps, your softened gaze roaming over his face gently. He looks younger in his sleep, pillowy lips parted lightly. His moles beg to be kissed. His hair is a mess. It's lost all its volume, lying flat against the pillow and urging you to run your fingers through it.

You ignore the urge in favor of slipping out from under the comforter. quiet as you can.

Steve's annoyingly good at spoiling you and is less than receptive to letting you return the sentiment. With one last glance back at bed, you let out a soft sigh, a honeyed noise, and head to the kitchen.

Steve's favourite mug is this wonky one that Dustin made once upon a time, some pottery class at one of his camps. You stare at it, glazed eyes taking in an alarmingly amount of detail on the cup, as the coffee brews behind you. Its scent wafts through the room. You've woken a dozen times to it, when it's Steve up and about, fixing a beverage for you.

It's cute, you think, that he still uses Dustin's mug for his coffee. By cute you mean, you can't think about it for too long or you'll stamp back down to the bedroom and kiss your boyfriend til your lips are blue and—

"Ooh, coffee?" Steve announces his presence with his words, partially garbled by his loud yawn. He halfheartedly covers his mouth, the hoodie he's haphazardly chucked on misaligned enough that it hangs over his hand adorably. He shuffles into the kitchen tiredly and despite his introduction, he heads right to you.

You can't resist a pout. Steve takes a moment to notice it, too happily distracted sidling up and worming his arms around your middle.

When he does, he tilts his head to the side. "What?"

"You couldn't let me bring it to you in bed?"

He grins. "I'm sorry. Was that the plan?"

"You know it was." You mumble grouchily, not upset at all. You push a hand into his chest, giving him a little shove. "You're always doin' this stuff for me but you don't ever let me do it for you."

Steve softens unbearably, his grin getting all gooey at the sides. He looks a little lovestruck, messy hair and all. It takes immense will to continue your upset facade. You nudge his chest again, your head inclining towards the bedroom.

"What?" His eyebrows jump, expression a mixture of incredulity and affectionate. "Y'want me to get back in bed? So you can come bring it to me?"

You smile, nudging his chest again and grinning when he starts to take a couple steps back, heading towards the bedroom. "Yes. Exactly that."

"You're absurd."

You poke your tongue out him. "You love it."

Steve moves forward abruptly, his hands cradling your face gently as he leans and steals a kiss from you. He retracts just as fast, looking far too pleased with himself.

"Yes, I do," He agrees, still wandering backwards. He disappears into your bedroom and you're left standing there with your own lovesick grin. God, you love him. Your heart feels like spun sugar in your chest, airy and sweet beyond relief.

To which Steve is no help at all when you walk into the bedroom, carefully holding the mug so it doesn’t spill. He's tucked back in bed, pretending to be asleep, only to wake with the grace of a Disney princess at your footsteps.

He faux yawns and pretends to jump at your presence, scampering to sit up in bed so he can accept the coffee from you. "Oh wow, what a surprise this is!"

"Shut up. You think you're soo funny, huh?" you mumble, handing the coffee over. Your aching smile gives away just how funny you think he is.

"Mmhm," Steve hums as he takes a sip. You've made it just the way he likes it. He parrots your earlier words. "You love it."

You lean in, mindful of the mug, and kiss him sweetly. He tastes of coffee and cream and he chases your lips for a second kiss when you pull back. You aim for tiredly amused but the words come out devastatingly sincere anyway. "Yeah, I do."

[steampunkforever]

Comparing Joker 2 to movies like Morbius or Madame Web is intellectually insulting. Joker: Folie À Deux is a well crafted, beautiful film made by artists passionate about the story and is nowhere near the cash grab superhero slop that people have been making it out to be. You HAVE to stop equating financial success with whether or not a movie is good. The fact that this movie flopped would be an outright tragedy if it wasn't for the fact that the plot and pacing are solidly mid.

If this were not a DC Superhero property and rather an A24 film you would eat this up. It's an extremely interesting concept, a concept interesting enough to be the film's downfall. Because after the last film who would predict the pivot to a Courtroom drama/musical hybrid tackling the aftermath of the events of the previous film. And if that didn't kill the movie for the fanbase, the central theme of taking responsibility for your actions would.

I liked the first film well enough. If you go back and read my filmpost on it you'll see I was pretty underwhelmed by the film but appreciated it for the work of art that it was. And overall, if not as tight of a film, the sequel maintains the same quality. It's good enough as a sequel. Which is probably one of the worst parts of the movie. It's a solid 2.6 out of 5 film. Average. Good enough.

The key failures of the sequel are that It didn't lean into the musical aspect and a slow plot. I understand that the average superhero fanboy isn't going to be receptive to a Lady Gaga-run musical, but I feel that the film could've gone 20% more theater kid with it and maintained the poise Joker 2 prizes. All the songs were good but none stuck with me the way a proper musical makes songs stick with you.

This is a psychological drama focusing on a man caught up in a mess bigger than he is. It's going to be slow, well thought out, and "boring" in ways I do not mind at all. Even so the pacing needed to be sped up so that it didn't feel like the film was a drag either. Audiences wanted the whole film to be the third act, with costumes and fire and energy, and even with the courtroom scenes broken up by those musical numbers, it comes off as a very dry, introspective movie with not enough plot moving the film forward as an unfortunate side affect.

The introspection itself is, I think, the films moment of self-destruction. Turning the story that the first movie's audience set upon as a sort of incel icon into a movie about not being able to blame the world for your actions is not going to play well with the edgelord fanbase.

The film prophesies its own downfall here: the core theme of the movie, as it puts the first film on trial, is Arthur Fleck having to decide between playing the character of Joker to appease a fanbase that's wrought him into a figurehead he does not condone or owning up to his own actions and facing the music without an insanity defense. And predictably, the fans hate the film for it.

It's a drop dead gorgeous movie. It's a movie that kept me interested, even if it was pretty average quality. The performances, musical and otherwise, are fantastic. Just the cinematography alone puts it head and shoulders over the past decade of Marvel studios productions! To simply rank a film with purpose and passion next to the borderlands movie is a gross miscalculation. This flopped for other reasons.

Once the film hits streaming I know people will do watch parties to see how bad it is, just as they did with Morbius and Madame Web, and I think they'll be surprised at the artistic quality of this one compared to other bad movies. And in 15-20 years when we revisit the movie I think it will be marked as underrated and misunderstood, though I think it's a film that's perfectly understood, just miscategorized.

Yet at the end of the day, for all my strident defense of the film (It's not Morbius! You people don't know what you're talking about!) it's just average. Above average but barely so. And so barely worth the watch, a movie I'd rank as an interesting film, if not wholly a good film.

[thereceptioniststyles]

Stolen Glances

Harry.

His name echoed in my mind, a constant presence that refused to let me sleep. I was consumed by an insatiable curiosity about him. When would our paths cross? What did he really look like? Did he possess the necessary skills to excel as a receptionist? These questions may have seemed trivial, but little did I know that Harry would become the catalyst for the destruction of my entire existence.

The days crawled by, each one dripping with mounting anticipation. I found it nearly impossible to concentrate, the mere thought of his imminent arrival sending shivers down my spine. And yet, fate had a cruel twist in store for me. Our meeting would not unfold as I had envisioned. No, it would be the other way around.

I parked my car on the desolate street, my hands trembling as I rummaged through my purse in search of my employee badge. The frigid air bit at my fingers, numbing them to the bone, making it a challenge to locate the badge amidst the chaos within my bag. After what felt like an eternity, I finally grasped it, only to have my nerves intensify as I hastened my pace down the pavement. The weight of the unknown bearing down on me.

I arrived at the entrance of the imposing building, the echo of my footsteps drowned out by the sound of my racing heart. With a trembling hand, I swiped my ID card, granting myself access to the enigmatic realm that awaited me. As I stepped inside, my eyes were immediately drawn to the reception desk where two girls engaged in animated conversation, their attention seemingly fixated on a phone call, undoubtedly scheduling an appointment. And then, it happened. Our gazes collided. Him.

Harry was nothing like the image I had constructed in my mind. In my fantasies, he was a polished intellectual, a charming nerd of sorts. But reality shattered my illusions. I stood there, rooted to the spot, utterly stupefied. Callie had not been exaggerating when she spoke of his attractiveness.

He was breathtaking. His dark hair cascaded in gentle waves, as though meticulously crafted to caress his forehead with effortless grace. His eyes, oh those piercing green eyes, possessed an intensity that could penetrate the very walls of my soul. His skin, concealed beneath a rolled-up button-down shirt, hinted at a fair complexion tinged with a subtle tan. And there, just beneath the cuff, tantalizing glimpses of inked artistry teased my hungry eyes.

My heart threatened to burst through my ribcage, its erratic beats echoing in my ears like a war drum. I prayed fervently that he hadn't caught me in the act of staring, my gaze fixated on him like a moth drawn to a flame. With trembling hands, I gathered my belongings, desperate to appear composed as I scurried towards my desk. I cast my eyes downward, then upward, anywhere but in his direction. I struggled to regain my focus, but it was an uphill battle. The world around me seemed to freeze, time grinding to a halt while my palms grew clammy with nervous perspiration.

As clients checked out and appointments were booked, I threw myself into the tasks at hand, a whirlwind of activity to distract myself from the magnetic pull of Harry's presence. I rushed to answer the phone, offering assistance to the person on the other end of the line. I did everything in my power to keep my hands and mind occupied, until I reached a point where distraction was futile.

One girl was engrossed in a phone call, another on her lunch break, and suddenly it was just Harry and me. I stole glances in his direction, catching glimpses of him, absorbed in learning the intricacies of the computer system. I could feel his eyes on me too, a magnetic connection that sent shivers down my spine. I silently thanked myself for taking the extra time to primp and preen, unwilling to appear anything less than presentable in his presence. After all, a guy like him, he was practically divine.

Suddenly, a voice shattered the cacophony of conflicting thoughts that had been swirling in my mind. The sound of his chair wheels sliding across the floor reverberated through the air, drawing my attention towards him.

"Hi," Harry's voice was a soft whisper, sending an electric current coursing through my veins. "I'm Harry."

In those few words, I felt a primal surge of wildness coursing through my being. It was as if my very essence had been awakened, ready to unleash an untamed, feral side of myself that I never knew existed.

The desire coursing through my veins was insatiable, an all-consuming fire that threatened to consume me whole. I longed to tear through any obstacle that stood between us, to claw my way to him and feel the strength of his arms, hidden beneath those rolled-up sleeves. My heart yearned to devote itself entirely to him, to become a willing sacrifice at the altar of his presence. In that moment, he was a god, and I was but a mere mortal, ready to surrender myself to his whims.

I nodded, my head barely moving, as if I were in a trance. I paused, gathering my thoughts for a fleeting moment, before slowly lifting my gaze to meet his. His emerald eyes bore into the depths of my soul, capturing my very essence in their hypnotic gaze.

"I'm Ayla," I whispered, my voice barely audible. I kept my introduction brief, fully aware of the potential to make a complete fool of myself. I had to tread carefully, to consider my every word and action in his presence.

A smile played at the corners of his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he extended his hand towards me, an invitation for a handshake. My hand trembled as it found its place within his, our palms meeting in a delicate clasp. A surge of electricity surged through me, setting my entire body ablaze.

"So, do you enjoy this job?" Harry inquired, his voice laced with genuine curiosity and a thick British accent. I nodded, a silent affirmation of my satisfaction.

"Yeah, it's fun. It has its ups and downs, but then again, what job doesn't?" I replied, attempting to maintain composure despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me.

Our eyes remained locked, an unspoken connection forming between us, until our manager emerged from her office, interrupting the charged atmosphere. She was a stern, no-nonsense woman who commanded respect with every stride. Her presence was a stark contrast to the intoxicating aura that surrounded Harry.

"Ah, Harry," our manager's voice cut through the air, her tone businesslike yet friendly. "I see you've met Ayla, one of our valued team members."

Harry released my hand, reluctantly breaking our connection, and turned towards our manager. "Yes, we just had a very brief introduction," he replied, his voice betraying a hint of warmth.

"Well, Ayla," our manager addressed me, her gaze piercing. "I trust you'll show Harry the ropes and ensure he settles in smoothly."

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest as I absorbed the weight of her words. Showing Harry the ropes meant spending more time with him, delving deeper into the enchanting allure he exuded. It was an opportunity I simultaneously craved and feared.

"Of course," I managed to say, my voice steady despite the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

"Ayla," she declared with a commanding tone, her voice cutting through the air like a sharp blade. "Step into my office. I have a question."

I rose swiftly from my desk, relief washing over me like a cool, soothing wave. She had come to my rescue, sparing me from the torment of prolonging the conversation with him. It wasn't right for me to entertain such thoughts, especially when I had a devoted boyfriend. Though our demanding schedules kept us apart, Beck and I had been together for nearly two years, and the last thing I needed was to be consumed by thoughts of another man who seemed out of my league.

I obediently followed Callie into her office, the heavy door clicking shut behind us. She pivoted to face me, her eyes piercing into mine, as she settled into the chair across from me.

"So," she began, her voice dripping with caution and concern, "Harry is undeniably attractive, and it's no secret that everyone finds him so. But you and Harry? That's a dangerous path, Ayla. I know you have a boyfriend, but life has a way of throwing unexpected curveballs, doesn't it? Focus on your work, stay grounded, and you'll be just fine. Besides, Harry, well, he's considerably older than you, isn't he?"

I nodded, though deep inside, I was engulfed in a sea of uncertainty. How could she draw such conclusions from a mere introduction and a brief handshake? It was unprofessional of her to pry into my personal affairs, but there was a grain of truth in her words. I had Beck, my pillar of support, the one who stood by my side.

All Parts

[gabessquishytum]

The Endless family are warlords.

The only way the siblings have any territory to rule is if they take it. And the most successful of the Endless siblings warlords, is Morpheus d'Endless.

He lays waste to the ruling family of the area he is set to conquer ~ people say he sends dreams nightmares to the opposing forces/royal families and drives them insane! So that by the time his forces make it to the next kingdom in his path, there is no resistance. The Nightmare King leaves very few royal survivors.

The kingdom of the royal Gadling family is next on Morpheus's list for conquest. Crown Prince Robert, Hob, can't stand the thought of his mother, sisters and baby brother, being driven mad and then killed, so Hob crafts a plan --- the White Horse Kingdom will welcome King d'Endless and offer, with joy the Gadling heir. Hopefully a posture of welcome not war will keep the harshest of the precursor nightmares at bay.

Hob is not even sure that Morpheus will be receptive to the idea, but when the d'Endless army is seen over the rise and ravens circle over head, Hob makes sure to be dressed in his sluttiest most flattering raiment and welcomes Morpheus home. Hob counts himself very lucky that Morpheus is so very attractive.

And Morpheus did not expect open doors, a prodigal like welcome, and a beautiful king kneeling at his feet. Even more surprising Morpheus detected no artifice. This King Robert was actually pleased to see him.

Clever, crafty Hob! What has he gotten himself into, though?! King d'Endless hardly has a good reputation when it comes to spouses. Nada, Calliope, Alianora. All of the King's relationships have ended in tears. But that does mean that he's in the market for a husband. And despite the fact that Hob must know his troubled history, he does seem... quite keen. He's clearly nervous, but more in the way a bride would be before a wedding. Apparently Morpheus’s attractive visage has been enough to make him forget that this could all go horribly wrong...

And yet it doesn't go wrong. Morpheus listens to Hob’s offer, considers it briefly, and accepts. The small kingdom is not a particularly rich or advantageous one, and it wouldn't be worth wasting the troops, or his own magic. A marriage alliance is more sensible. He can always get rid of this King Robert later on, and inherit the kingdom as his husband anyway. A contract is signed, the marriage is announced, and the wedding is scheduled.

And then Morpheus is left alone with his betrothed. Its barely a minute before Hob slips from his own chair and shyly straddles the great war lord's lap. He's blushing, but he's no virgin, Morpheus can tell. Truthfully he seems excited. His eyelashes flutter when Morpheus cups his plump arse and squeezes him. Hob’s pretty mouth falls open and he whimpers, genuinely greedy for more.

For the first time in many years, Morpheus thinks of something that isn't conquest or bloodshed. He heaves Hob onto the table where the contract was just signed... and he gives his future husband what he so obviously wants.

A double victory for Hob. His family are safe, and he's just been fucked like never before. Plus, now he knows exactly how he'll keep his husband in a good mood.

[hardwriterdeluxe]

BuildTech

Emily, a determined and hardworking college student, found herself in a constant struggle to make ends meet. With mounting bills and the pressure of rent looming over her, she embarked on a relentless job search to secure a source of income.

One day, as she scrolled through countless job listings online, a particular advertisement caught her attention. It read, "Exciting Opportunity at BuildTech: Join our Dynamic Team!" Intrigued by the promise of excitement, Emily clicked on the ad to learn more.

The BuildTech website showcased a vibrant and innovative company, known for its groundbreaking projects and commitment to excellence. As Emily delved deeper into the company's mission and values, she couldn't help but feel drawn towards the company and this empty position. Emily decided to take a chance and submit her application. She carefully crafted her cover letter and updated her resume to highlight her skills like her leadership or strong mind and determination. With a glimmer of hope, she pressed the "Submit" button, eagerly anticipating a response.

Days turned into weeks, and Emily's anticipation grew with each passing moment. Doubts and worries began to creep into her mind, questioning whether she was qualified or if she would ever find a job that could alleviate her financial burdens.

Just as she was starting to lose hope, an email notification appeared in her inbox. Her heart raced as she clicked on the message, revealing an invitation for an interview at BuildTech. The excitement and relief she felt were palpable.

Emily meticulously prepared for the interview, researching the company's projects and familiarizing herself with the construction industry. Dressed in her best professional attire, she arrived at the impressive office building that housed BuildTech, her determination unwavering.

As she stepped into the sleek and modern reception area, the ambiance exuded an air of professionalism and ambition. The receptionist, Sarah, greeted her warmly and directed her to the interview room. Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation and nervous energy as she entered the room.

Sitting across from Mike, the manager of BuildTech, Emily was immediately struck by his friendly demeanor and genuine interest in her. The interview commenced, with Mike delving into her background, skills, and aspirations. He sought to understand her motivations and determine if she would be a good fit for the company's dynamic team.

Throughout the interview, Emily's passion and dedication shone through. She expressed her desire to contribute to meaningful projects and make a difference in the world. Mike, impressed by her enthusiasm and genuine nature, saw great potential in her.

As the interview came to a close, Mike leaned forward with a smile on his face. He extended his hand and offered Emily the position at BuildTech, citing her determination and alignment with the company's values. Emily's heart swelled with gratitude and excitement. Finally, a breakthrough had come her way.

If she only knew that the company just hired men…

Ecstatic about her new job at BuildTech, Emily eagerly awaited her first day of work.

The day arrived, and Emily arrived at the BuildTech headquarters with a mix of nerves and anticipation. She was greeted by Sarah, the friendly receptionist she had met during her interview. Sarah handed her a set of documents to fill out and explained the basics of the company's policies and procedures. Emily, so caught up in small talk, didn't even realize she signed the documents confirming her work profile to be updated as male and her work position being a construction worker not a second assistant.

After completing the paperwork, Sarah led Emily down a long corridor towards the employee facilities. As they walked, Emily couldn't help but notice that everyone she passed in the corridor was male. It seemed odd to her, but she brushed it off, assuming it was just a coincidence. 

Sarah stopped in front of a door labeled "Employee Dressing Room." She explained that Emily would find her uniform inside and instructed her to change into it before joining the rest of the team on the construction site. Emily thought to herself “wait wasn't my position second assistant, why do i need a construction uniform.” but she brushed it off again as a small misunderstanding. Emily stepped inside the dressing room. 

To her surprise, the dressing room was unlike any she had ever seen. It was a sleek, futuristic space with walls adorned by mirrors and high-tech displays. Emily's reflection stared back at her, a mix of excitement and curiosity in her eyes.

In the center of the room, there was a platform illuminated by soft, glowing lights. A voice echoed from the speakers, its tone soothing yet authoritative. "Welcome, Emily, to BuildTech's Gender-Conforming Dressing Room. Please step onto the platform for scanning and outfit customization."

Curiosity overcoming her, Emily complied and positioned herself on the platform. As she stood there, the room's lights brightened, casting a gentle glow around her. A series of scanning beams enveloped her body, analyzing her physical features and detecting any inconsistencies.

To her shock the bright lights turned red, the AI system detected that Emily's assigned gender did not match her work profile. The robotic arms in the room sprang into action, undressing her. Emily felt a mix of confusion and vulnerability as the arms swiftly removed her clothing.

The next moment, the robotic arms approached her and grabbed her so they could correct her. they began spraying Emily in a thin clear coating, each movement molding the spray to her body. Emily felt a tingling sensation, almost as if her very essence was being reshaped.

First up was her legs as the skin-like suit adheard to her bones and molded them her calves grew pushing her from her ordinary 5’6 to a a 5’7. Her legs continued to mold and gained muscle mass on top of muscle mass and next up was her feet, her feet grew so much that she looked out of proportion, she now sported real man's feet and it continued with her thighs giving her juicy big thighs matching her now changed legs and feet. Before the transformation moved forward it blessed her legs and feet with a generous amount of hair and also gave her bad boy feet a rank stench so powerful she needed to cover them up daily. The molding continued and moved upwards the changes barely touched her bouncy butt, the spray just molded her feminine curves into the strong masculine side making her butt fuller and firmer. 

The magic of the spray went on to continue and gave her torso a great gift. Her torso fat melted into string and hard abs and her female gender became male with the dick growing hard and big, to complete her downstairs or well his downstairs the changes gave him a full treasure line with hair his once female breasts flattened into some rock hard pecs adorned with yet again sweaty musky body hair. 

His arms ballooned giving his once small biceps muscles. The arms extended and filled with arm hair and veins giving a strong and yet inviting look. His hands grew from a delicate soft hand into hands that could hold any dick or tool easily, these new hands were calloused and dirty from hard work and experience. Next was the armpits which grew to match the muscles and became hairy and wet sporting the same foul smell.

His physical appearance transformed before his eyes. The contours of his face shifted, becoming more angular and masculine giving him a perfect jawline and the perfect nose. His voice deepened, resonating with a newfound confidence and authority but also masculinity and toughness. 

As the transformation progressed, Emily's mind underwent a parallel change. Memories of his past life as Emily faded into the background, replaced by a new sense of self. He no longer identified as Emily but embraced his new identity as Alex, a strong and capable construction worker.

The spray completed the transformation by stretching Alex from 5’7 to 5’11. The robotic arms dressed Alex in a pair of white socks or by the looks of it almost yellow, the socks had the same smell as Alex feet explaining the odor. Next the arms dressed him in sturdy work boots that were well worn and were made of sturdy leather. Alex got put in rugged pants adorned with stains and mud and some tools, Alex also got a durable work shirt with a vest. The robot arms placed a construction worker's hard hat atop his head, symbolizing his new role within the company and sealing his new identity, and with that the world only knew Alex.

Stepping out of the dressing room, Alex felt a surge of confidence coursing through his veins. The world around him seemed to shift, as if acknowledging his new identity. Colleagues who once knew Emily now saw him as Alex, a skilled and respected member of the construction team.

As he walked among his new coworkers, Alex couldn't help but notice the subtle nods of approval and respect. He had earned his place in this traditionally male-dominated industry and was now another worker in the crowd.

[findingnemosworld]

𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 - 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤 𝐬𝐳𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐳𝐥𝐚𝐢

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬

( 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 )

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐲 ��𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲.

𝐬𝐳𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐳𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝.

𝐬𝐳𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐳𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤: a sappy girlfriend appreciation post, don't say I didn't warn you!

Édes Angyalkám!! watching you prepare for this role has been nothing short of incredible, the hard work you have put in, day in and day out truly showcases your love for your craft, not just in this role, but in every role you take, every time I hear people praising you, I'm filled with a sense of pride because as much as people claim you never put in your effort, you always do.

This role is the role of a lifetime, a role you have strived for since becoming an actress and I can honestly say that after watching the trailer, that not only will this be your breakthrough into mainstream, but also the role you'll always be remembered for, I'm so proud of you baba!!!, knock everyone dead tomorrow ☠️

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐨𝐧𝟗𝟒, 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐝𝟔𝟔 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝟗𝟖𝟑,𝟔𝟓𝟓 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬. - 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰:

user1: if my boyfriend isn't as proud of me as dominik is proud of his girlfriend, we are breaking up 😭

user2: dominik really setting the standards high here and we love to see it 🥲

user3: she is so lucky, what I would do to have a boyfriend like dominik 😭

user4: I don't know whether I want to be her, or want to be dominik

trentarnold66: sappy aren't you? never thought I would see you like this 😂

yoursuername: trentarnold66 you see him more than me, you're one to talk since the two of you have the internet thinking you're together 😒 szoboszlaidominik: yoursuername come on baba, you know you're my girl ☹️ szoboszlaidominik: trentarnold66 go away 🖕

user5: haha trent might be a little jealous 😆

yourusername: user5 I don't know why he's jealous, since he spends more time with my boyfriend than I do szoboszlaidominik: yourusername 💔🥺

yourusername: comments aside, I wouldn't have made it through the grueling process without your support mi vida, the sweetest, most compassionate, most loving boyfriend I can ever hope for 😭❤️

szoboszlaidominik: yourusername, I love you so much baba ❤️ yourusername: szoboszlaidominik I love you too handsome😍

liverpoolfc: best of luck on your film yourusername ❤️

yourusername: liverpoolfc, thank you guys 🫶❤️

______________________________________________________________

𝐬𝐳𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐳𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝.

𝐬𝐳𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐳𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐤: what a reception that was, the film was incredible, everyone involved had done such a wonderful job, especially my sweet angel, you looked so ethereal that it was hard for me to look anywhere else until the credits rolled, what touched my heart further was the love you received, a testament to the hard work you have put, congratulations to the cast, crew, writers and everyone for an amazing piece of art that will be talked about for ages ☠️

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐨𝐧𝟗𝟒, 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐝𝟔𝟔 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝟗𝟖𝟖,𝟒𝟓𝟔 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬. - 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰:

user1: once again dominik being a proud boyfriend will never not have me wishing for a love like theirs

user2: 😭😭😭😭😭😭

user3: that's it, if they break up then love is dead 🥺

user4: dude, only dominik will write a sweet post then end with the ☠️ emoji, dedication at its finest.

yourusername: thank you for showing up tonight mi amor, I was a nervous wreck 🥺❤️

szoboszlaidominik: what kind of boyfriend will I be if I don't support my baba, hm?

trentarnold66: congrats yourusername 🫶

yourusername: thank you trenty ❤️

liverpoolfc: congratulations on an incredible film yourusername ❤️

yourusername: thanks guys!!

user5: I need a boyfriend like him 😭

andrewrobertson94: congrats yourusername, rachel and I loved the film 🫶

yourusername: aww thank you 🥺, send my best to her and the kids.

[dateless-bar]

Can I Follow You Home? - Traitor Primarch Ver. (Modern AU)

If you ask Can I Follow You Home...

*: Character design from #projectepd, see character design pics here: ☆

Magnus

If you want to visit Magnus at his mansion in the New Capital, he might scrutinize your email with pursed lips for a while. From the subject line to the signature, and even the style and wording of the text—if you're lucky and what you propose happens to pique his interest, he might allow you to come by with a research proposal for consultation.

Magnus's mansion truly lives up to its original meaning. He won't greet you at the door; instead, he'll instruct you via email which room to go to, explicitly marking areas off-limits without permission. You have to tread carefully as soon as Amon opens the door for you, as you'll sense the space is filled with various antiques, rare books, specimens, and other collectibles. Whether it's hand-copied manuscripts with ink still fresh or prayer books adorned with jewels, the cabinets display a vast array, while numerous scrolls and carvings are sealed behind thick glass.

Amon will lead you to the reception room on the second floor, which, to be honest, leaves hardly any space to walk. The carpet is thick and soft, giving you the sensation of walking on sand. You can be sure there are cats in the house, as you spot cat hair on the couch and objects. However, unfortunately, the mansion is too large, and all the cats have hidden away. Magnus sits on the innermost sofa in the reception room, waiting for you to present your research report. During this time, you can smell the sweet aroma of wine and beeswax, a scent compounded with the heavy dust in the air, almost dizzying.

While he peruses your work, it's strongly advised not to let your gaze linger on areas of the room obviously concealed. If you were to discreetly lift a blanket or push a cabinet to reveal the modern lighting and the opposite cabinet, you'd find various movie props, first edition comics, signed posters by game designers, and perhaps even his secluded gaming den filled with numerous controllers, game boxes, and Blu-ray discs. If you were to really do that... Well, okay, okay, Amon, please show the guest out.

Perturabo

It's hard to imagine Perturabo introducing his house to anyone, but if there's anywhere in the world that brings him peace of mind, it's probably his own steel-reinforced safe house. This house is located at a secret address, accessible only through a long, narrow underground passage.

If you were to actually enter it, you might find yourself completely in the dark. That's because this place requires Perturabo's personal authentication to activate, and there's even an Iron Circle robot at the entrance—whether it can be activated or not is uncertain, but it looks quite formidable. Additionally, there's a rather intimidating set of exoskeletons, making you feel like you've stepped onto a movie set.

After navigating through various security measures, you finally reach an explosion-proof door. Behind this door lies a small room equipped with a separate escape hatch and water pump system, doubling as a precision mechanical workshop. From here, Perturabo can monitor all the activities in his main residence. It's like a doomsday bunker with comprehensive systems for any contingency. Here, Perturabo contemplates or crafts devices in absolute safety and silence, free from any possible disturbance, making it one of the few places where he can find complete tranquility. Sometimes, he spends entire weekends here alone, dedicating his time to constructing and manufacturing machinery. He even manages sleep on a mechanical bench or a hardboard bed. Then, at the beginning of the week, he returns to his regular duties, and of course, the items he manufactures here are never given to anyone.

If you find the space a bit cramped, you can activate the artificial scenery function on the multi-panel screens to display realistic landscapes. However, there's one obvious drawback: Perturabo hasn't equipped the house with any kitchen facilities, so if you're really hungry, you might have to make do with a few biscuits and water.

Fulgrim

Imagine visiting Fulgrim's mansion— which one, though? Let's go with the one he's been favoring lately. The walls of this mansion are painted in dazzling purple, and the satin on the velvet couches shimmers with a soft, enticing glow, but none of this compares to how he looks when he opens the door wearing his cozy housecoat. No more high-heeled boots or leather shoes, just bare feet adorned with a pair of fuzzy deep purple slippers. As you step inside, he'll surely ask you what music you'd like to listen to, and as you ponder which record suits this warm, radiant evening, he'll inquire about your drink preferences and if you'd like some snacks—too many choices might leave you a bit overwhelmed, but Fulgrim has already selected a few that he's perfected. Herbal tea, mille-feuille, a selection of classical recordings from the La Fenice Theater—the needle of the record player gently drops, and you never imagined you'd hear his collection in the home of this opera master.

You might find yourself sitting on a couch that's unbelievably soft, not as tidy as you'd imagine, adorned with dried flowers and fabric samples. But the pillows and cushions you hold emit delightful scents, and he promises to send you home with a sample of his handmade incense. And because the snacks are so delicious, you have to be careful not to eat too quickly. If you're full, you might explore the dressing rooms on the second floor—or should I say, the entire second floor is dressing rooms. Each room has floor-length mirrors and professional lighting fixtures, showcasing a variety of costumes, identical to those seen on the opera stage, down to the hand-sewn details. He'll show you the rooms for shoes and hats, the sheer volume from floor to ceiling is staggering, and you realize Fulgrim can clearly recall which designer or era each piece is from.

And if you're having a delightful conversation with him at this moment, he'd be more than happy to show you his clothing design sketches in the studio on the third floor. But as you step into the study, you might inhale sharply— the room is filled with numerous magazines and movie posters, all featuring his various personas. However, you can't help but admit that none of the pictures in the books seem as vivid and lifelike as the person standing before you.

Lorgar Aurelian

You initially prepared to visit Lorgar and expected it to be a public display, but you ended up at his private residence instead. He waits at the door for you before your arrival, claiming he anticipated this.

Lorgar's actual room is quite modest, even modern. People often forget his profession and find it hard to imagine his modern side. The room is so standard it could pass for a rental in the city, with some potted plants on the balcony. You gaze at him in his high-neck sweater, feeling a bit surprised—it's an uncommon sight.

There's still a faint scent of incense in the air, much like what you often smell in Word Bearer churches. Under Lorgar's gaze, you might need to change into slippers and shoe covers before entering. His bookshelf isn't stocked with books but scattered with wooden or metal ornaments, making you realize he has a habit of discarding or burning books after reading them. Interestingly, there are some modern-looking self-help and popular psychology books on the shelf, which Lorgar might explain are for Angron.

There are very few electronic devices in his home, not even digital clock screens, still relying on a very quaint chiming clock and occasionally using an old laptop and a fax machine for work. Judging by the dust, it seems Lorgar doesn't use them often. When you inquire about this, he mentions he still prefers handwritten letters. If you ask, he might even show you the Word Bearer seal. Interestingly, the ink pens and other items he uses daily are all handmade. As you approach the desk, you can smell a distinct classical ink scent. However, he expresses regret that he can't offer you any souvenirs—after all, his handwriting and signature are too precious, and you wouldn't know what to do with a true relic.

Angron

The idea of visiting Angron's home was rather nerve-wracking, to say the least. Honestly, if it weren't for the TV station's insane idea of doing this special program, chances are you wouldn't have had the opportunity to explore. However, what was likely aired on the show probably wasn't what you truly saw today. The Nuceria Wrestling League probably wanted to stage more stimulating scenes for the audience, so they might have taken away some items from here later and set them up elsewhere for shooting.

You shift your gaze back to the house in front of you, evidently arranged by Nuceria as Angron's residence, a luxurious apartment. Angron storms out of the bathroom, still dripping with water. He seems entirely unwilling to bother drying himself off. You can see water seeping onto the floor, clearly cleaned regularly by Nuceria's arranged personnel, replacing the vases and cabinets Angron smashes with new ones. No matter how roughly he treats the space he occupies, it returns to its original state after a while—you even feel that might be the reason for his anger.

You glance at the dining table, where Angron's previously endorsed cereals and protein bars lie. But you're pretty sure he doesn't eat them himself. Even the entire kitchen looks brand new, untouched by him, but you know another wrestler, Kharn, and their agent, Ms. Sarrin, sometimes use it to prepare simple meals.

The bathroom Angron just came out of doesn't have many bathing supplies; instead, it's stocked with bandages and painkillers you wouldn't typically find in a household. Next door is an entire home gym, a rarity, with a variety of exercise equipment dazzling the eyes, and the battered punching bag makes you shudder. Angron would smirk and say this place is just for show, with only the punching bag being somewhat useful. His real training is obviously in a more professional gym, and this place is probably just an assumption made by Nuceria.

You're surprised to see a cramped compartment, seemingly originally used as a small storage room. But when you discreetly open the door, you discover a hidden world inside. There are many scribbled to-do lists and tips from counseling centers, and a few crumpled manuals on the table. There's a pen holder made from a crushed soda can, with two or three stubby pencils inside. Before you can figure out what exactly this place is for, Angron grabs you by the scruff like a rabbit and drags you out.

Konrad Curze

In a sense, his home could even be considered a tourist attraction—if you're a fan of urban legends or folk horror radio shows, you've probably heard of the infamous haunted mansion at 50 Berkeley Square. Its notoriety isn't just historical; it's also connected to Konrad Curze. Some say he lived there, while others claim Curze himself is the source of the eerie tales about the mansion... Urban legends only get more mysterious as they circulate. If you're a social media influencer or a haunted house explorer, or even if you're looking to invest in real estate and have enough courage, perhaps you could try entering.

Of course, the faint-hearted should go during the day, but the brave, unafraid of death, can choose nighttime. The atmosphere and the gusts of fog alone are enough to make one gulp down a pot of tea, and as you shiver while trying to push open the mansion's front door, only to find it immovable, you might need a helping hand or a ladder to climb through the broken window on the east side—actually, Curze usually exits from here; he doesn't have much of a concept of using the front door, but he's rather fond of the gargoyle on the roof.

There are appliances in the house, and you can even try turning on the lights, but you must be wary of potential electrical hazards, as you have no idea where the wires are connected, definitely not to code. There are suspicious marks on the wooden floorboards—let's refuse to ponder whether they're claw marks or bloodstains, carefully avoiding all hazardous areas, and you'll find that the mansion is like a massive secret chamber or maze. Many of the upholstered or leather furniture pieces are either covered in dust or in a state of disrepair. A large portion of them is even strewn across the floor, blocking your path. After finally maneuvering past the creaky floorboards and reaching the kitchen, you're pleasantly surprised to find that not only are the lights functioning, but the fridge is also plugged in! However, after noticing the suspicious traces seeping from the fridge and cabinets, perhaps it's better not to open them...

You turn to look at the kitchen utensils on the countertop—they're quite new, most likely brought over by Fulgrim, who is always dedicated to getting Curze's life back on track. You're certain the bath salts strewn everywhere in the bathroom and the torn bath bombs are also his doing. As you contemplate further exploration of the other rooms in the house, Curze, who has suddenly appeared on the sofa, emits a hissing sound, forcing you to stop in your tracks. He blends completely into the darkness, using the unplugged wires to tell you he doesn't like too much light in the house. Curze curls up on the torn sofa, the once black and yellow fuzz now darkened and scattered from the overturned cushions.

Mortarion

If you're one of his trusted Deathshroud laboratory assistants, you might get the chance to visit his private residence. You'd disembark in the backyard, not at the front gate. Upon entering, you might initially think it's a karesansui garden. However, upon closer inspection, you'd discover that the tiered flower beds and foliage are actually arranged in intricate geometric patterns, following the mysterious Fibonacci sequence found in nature. You'd notice many plants with peculiar shapes or overly vibrant colors, and your intuition would tell you to stay far away from them. Mortarion breathes in the air of the courtyard through his mask, his fingers almost grazing the plants.

After circling the garden, you'd enter his home. It's eerily quiet, to the point where you can hear the chirping of insects from the courtyard. Mortarion is wearing nothing but a thin plain robe indoors, which obscures his overly pale skin, giving off an unsettling chill.

He would draw the curtains when the sun rises, shrouding the interior in dim shadows. You might find yourself unable to resist looking at the printed numerical sequences on the walls of his room, as well as the insects and plant specimens framed in display cases. And the darker the environment, the more lifelike they appear. If you stare long enough, you might almost feel as if they're about to flutter their wings at any moment. As you walk along the walls, you'd come across a fish tank illuminated only by scenery and a dim green light, devoid of any fish. Just as you can't help but wonder what happened in there, you catch a faint whiff of formaldehyde from the closed door nearby.

At that moment, dusk sets in. Mortarion suddenly pulls back the curtains, startling everyone present. Yet, he casually produces homemade wine from the courtyard. If you're lucky enough, you might be treated to these drinks alongside other visiting Deathshroud members—you all instinctively don't think to refuse such a possibility.

Horus Lupercal

Horus's current residence is the result of a black market deal after a fire many years ago, but now it's deemed 'completely legitimate and legal,' with records in the Luna Wolves' archives even documenting the hefty property taxes they dutifully pay.

The overall style of the house bears a striking resemblance to the Wolves' old home in Sicily, likely because Sejanus and others brought over a fair amount of furniture from there. They even had a massive oven installed for occasional nostalgic pizzas or bread reminiscent of home. Whenever Horus needs to meet privately with the Mournival, it's almost always held in the ground floor of this house. They would sit around a long table, surrounded by paintings by artists who once owed substantial debts, hanging on the walls and ceiling. Torgaddon once quipped that while meetings in this environment were bearable, eating was out of the question—prompting an immediate reprimand from Abaddon.

If you're one of Horus's trusted confidants, you might have the chance to see the final painting in that series, displayed alone in his living room. Surprisingly, his room doesn't entirely adhere to the style of the rest of the house; it's more minimalistic, with fewer decorative furnishings, featuring only a bookcase, a bed, a clothes rack, a drinks cabinet, and a table. The bookcase holds a collection of epic, literary, and historical works. If you catch him in a good mood, he might allow you to pour a drink or help him hang up his suit jacket. Whether to add ice, how much ice to add, whether to send it to the dry cleaners, and where to hang it all become matters of importance. And if you get it right, Horus might relax a bit, loosen his tie, and share the story behind the painting with you. But the test has only just begun; either stay silent and listen carefully or ask the most precise questions to help him tell the story he's told a thousand times before. And if you happen to mention some keywords he doesn't like, then all efforts will be in vain. Remember, caution is key.

Alpharius

You walk into a room.

As for what kind of room it is, you feel it's a bit like an employee dormitory, yet also reminiscent of a single room in a budget hotel.

It looks completely fine. Neat, clean, with items that are ninety percent new, not overly pristine to make it difficult to use, yet appropriately lacking a sense of warmth. You attempt to turn on the lights in the room, only to discover that all the power sockets perfectly match your lifestyle, requiring almost no additional adapters or special interfaces. Speaking of interfaces... where is your phone? Realizing this, you glance at the coffee table and the cabinet above it, noticing that the room is not equipped with any telephones.

You suspect your phone might be in the pocket of your coat, so you try to open the wardrobe in the room. Inside, there are three hangers, each holding your outerwear for different seasons, perfectly matching your size and dressing habits. However, they are all brand new, without any signs of being worn.

Despite thinking it's impossible, you still check the pockets of these clothes. In the inner pocket of your winter coat, you find a business card. There's only one name on the card.

You feel a dizzy spell. How long has it been since you last ate? A wave of weakness washes over you, and you collapse onto the unwrinkled bed.

You wake up to the sound of your own phone ringing. As you regain consciousness, you find yourself lying in your most familiar bed. The scent, the pillows, the blankets all make you feel incredibly safe. You sigh with relief, realizing you've just had a strange dream - but it's all over now, isn't it? You pick up your phone, intending to freshen up.

After a moment, you realize there seems to be something under your phone.

It's a business card.

[daifukumochiin]

Summary: Sasuke's orderly life at elite Sairiumu Academy is disrupted by the arrival of Hinata, a timid transfer student whose obvious crush on him, a young man dedicated to his craft and his current relationship, stirs unease. (Initial SasuSaku with SasuHina endgame, modern Norse myth AU, high school, angst, romance, photography, postmodern-ish fic). Rated T

Nevertheless I have this against you, that you have left your first love. NKJV — Revelation 2:4

LIGHTS,

BOWS, and

MISTLETOES

an entry for SasuHina Month 2024, Day 27 : Forget and Remember

(for @peachy-hina, since December) @sasu-hina

ffnet: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14369143/1/Lights-Bows-and-Mistletoes

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57030778

Part 1: Lights go to Chapter List>

I heard a voice, that cried, "Balder the Beautiful Is dead, is dead!" And through the misty air Passed like the mournful cry Of sunward sailing cranes. 

—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Tegner’s Drapa

i

What does one make of stalkers? Female ones.

Sasuke stood close to five foot eleven, fairly active and athletic, with a lean, muscled build typical of a teenager who cared for his health and traveled frequently for photography. Not quite pugilist material, but capable of defending himself if necessary. With his quick wit and a taekwondo brown belt, he was well-prepared for self-defense—should, as previously mentioned, the situation call for it.

Sairiumu Academy lay reposed among lush, well-preserved forests at the base of a prominent mountain carved with the visages of heroes past. At one glance, it seemed a serene and fortified paradise for the children of the elite and sickeningly wealthy. But there loomed a sense of threat in its seemingly endless marbled corridors for Sasuke that particular busy noon when she came: the new transfer student, Hinata Hyuuga. The crown of her head couldn't even reach his neck; she showed no vile display of possession of arms or rambunctious attitude; she couldn't seem to stop twiddling her thumbs, and judging from her body language, didn't feel confident enough in herself to speak way out of a difficult situation. And yet, she dared strike him up with a greeting, asked him for general guidance about the photography club’s applications, and timidly signed her name on the form.

It didn't escape Sasuke how she stole glances at him. With only the reception table between them, she must've imagined he kept looking at her because he was checking her out. A sense of dread came over him, and he looked away. He had taken on the reception duties and sent the other photography club members on a lunch break. To Hinata Hyuuga, who has an apparent crush on him, it was the perfect opportunity to engage him in small talk and get familiar. But he would not let her have it.

As though held at gunpoint, he glanced to the right and then to the left, checking out the hallway while she continued filling out the form in small, neat handwriting. His heartbeat quickened, each thump echoing in his ears, a drumbeat of unease. At a corner several blocks away, the Japanese classic painting club was bustling and this brought Sasuke a sense of shallow relief. Should anything happen, they could be his neighborly witnesses.

“Orientation on the 7th,” he said, handing her an envelope with pamphlets and orientation details inside. His voice was kept monotonous like the hum of a fan, his face blank and stone cold, though he maintained eye contact because he wasn't one to cower in the face of intimidation.

With a deer caught in headlights impression, Hinata Hyuuga's eyes caught the light in an almost prismatic quality. They were like amethysts, clear with streaks of light jumping through a million tiny mirror surfaces, shooting back at him with the rush of a bullet train. It was uncanny and inhuman, sending jolts along his spine. She made the hairs on his forearms rise in goose flesh.

“O-okay…” she replied. And then not another word.

As she walked away, he noticed a faint scent of rain in the air, a memory of an evening on Hashirama’s bridge flashing briefly in his mind, her crazy eyes wide with recognition as she gripped his sleeve. This was not the first time he’d seen her. Her transfer to Sairiumu and even ending up in the same class as him—they weren't mere coincidences, Sasuke was certain. She had come after him.

She disappeared down the hallway after taking a turn, and a sense of foreboding still lingered. An unsettling heaviness whirred in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't quite shake. go to Chapter List>

[elysiumania]

title: a dagger's embrace pairing(s): jing yuan/reader warnings: angst, slow burn, violence, hurt/comfort, manipulation, suggestive themes. word count: 11.5k

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 05

previous || next

As you recount the intricate details of your encounter with Jing Yuan to Lady Mingzhu, a spark of mirth and triumph flickers in her eyes. She listens intently, her gaze fixed upon you with unwavering focus, savoring every word that spills forth. Within her, a sense of satisfaction radiates, stemming from the orchestrations she has meticulously woven.

You carefully select the most relevant fragments of your conversation to relay to her. You delve into Jing Yuan's experiences as the esteemed General, unraveling the intricate threads of political affairs that shape the realm. Lady Mingzhu, already well-versed in such matters, absorbs your report with keen interest, further fortifying her profound understanding of the ever-shifting currents of power.

Yet, it is the mention of Jing Yuan's reaction to the delectable delicacies you brought that sparks the most delight in Lady Mingzhu. A subtle smile tugs at the corners of her lips, a glimmer of pride illuminating her eyes. The fact that Jing Yuan expressed a yearning for more of the culinary delights and extended an open invitation for you to visit his office at your leisure stirs a profound sense of accomplishment within her.

This revelation serves as a testament to the progress made, a tangible sign that the fortress guarding Jing Yuan may finally be yielding to the relentless tide of time and closure. Lady Mingzhu keenly recognizes the significance of this development, the boundless potential it holds for shaping the future of the Hongying clan and the Seat of Divine Foresight.

Her satisfaction is palpable as she absorbs your report, the flickering flames of triumph mirrored in the mirth dancing within her eyes. It is a moment of validation, an affirmation that her calculated plans and intricate schemes are bearing fruit.

The matriarch's voice reverberates with a potent blend of satisfaction and intrigue as she delves into the progress made in your mission. With a graceful click, she closes her fan, her nimble fingers folding it shut with practiced precision. You watch her intently, absorbing the aura of confidence that emanates from her every utterance.

"It appears our plans are proceeding as anticipated," she muses, her tone infused with a hint of pride. "The General is proving more receptive than we initially surmised, allowing us a smoother path to navigate the fortifications guarding his heart. Despite his illustrious achievements and the reverence he commands, it seems he is a fool and not impervious to our well-crafted strategies."

You offer a nod of agreement, acknowledging the veracity of her words. Undeniably, Jing Yuan has displayed an unexpected openness, his defenses appearing less impregnable than initially perceived. However, when the matriarch refers to him as a "fool," a fleeting hint of dissent flashes within your gaze.

While you understand the intention behind her remark, driven by her determination to dismantle Jing Yuan's emotional barriers, you find it difficult to wholly concur. The conversation you shared with him revealed an enigma, a man who carefully selected his words, veiling his true intentions beneath layers of artful ambiguity. His responses resembled a cryptic puzzle, necessitating meticulous contemplation and unwavering observation to decipher.

Your keen powers of observation and acute perception were tested to their limits, yet the true essence of Jing Yuan remained elusive, despite your relentless efforts. It is a testament to his enigmatic nature, his ability to exude an aura of mystery even as he allows you closer to his inner sphere.

Jing Yuan's enigmatic allure simultaneously captivates and frustrates you. His smile, an intricate mystery, guards its secrets with unwavering resolve, leaving you yearning for a glimpse into the depths of his true emotions. While unraveling the intentions and sincerity of others may be second nature to you, in the presence of Jing Yuan, it transforms into a formidable challenge.

Every interaction with him feels like an intricate dance, where his congeniality veils the true essence of his thoughts and intentions. He possesses a singular ability to deflect scrutiny effortlessly, deftly diverting attention away from the core of his being. His enigmatic aura both tantalizes and teases, enticing you to unravel the layers that enshroud him, while simultaneously challenging your capacity to breach his defenses.

Yet, amidst the frustration, your commitment to your mission remains unyielding. The veiled barrier that separates you from Jing Yuan only strengthens your resolve to forge ahead. Like a steady force, you refuse to be deterred by his enigmatic nature. Instead, it serves as a catalyst, spurring you to redouble your efforts and confront the formidable obstacle that obstructs your path to understanding him.

Silently, you reflect upon your divergence from the matriarch's assessment. Jing Yuan may not be a fool, but rather a virtuoso of intrigue and strategic concealment. His complexities lie in the depths of his character, awaiting discovery with patience and astute discernment.

The dawn of the next day casts its light upon the fleet, and true to your expectations, Lady Mingzhu summons you once more to Jing Yuan's office. Accompanied by your entourage and carrying the familiar lunch box, you approach the designated meeting place, ready for the day that awaits you. The aura of Lady Mingzhu's satisfaction is almost palpable, a subtle undercurrent that fuels her ongoing charade.

As you reach the entrance, the guard stationed there greets you with a knowing nod, his familiarity evident. It becomes apparent that Jing Yuan has discreetly informed him of your recurrent visits, allowing you swift passage without the need for explanations or formalities. With a silent gesture, he signals for you to step into the waiting starskiff, your entourage remaining behind.

The starskiff glides effortlessly through the air, its propulsion carrying you towards the revered Seat of Divine Foresight. The journey is smooth and serene.

As the starskiff gracefully comes to a halt, you disembark and are greeted by two formidable guards flanking the imposing doors. Their uniforms exude an air of authority and dedication, the pristine sheen of their attire mirroring the precision with which they carry out their duties. With a synchronized motion, they swing open the doors, unveiling the lavish interior of Jing Yuan's office.

Your gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the opulence that surrounds you. The atmosphere crackles with anticipation, an electric current that infuses the air. The faint scent of exotic incense lingers, heightening the senses and setting the stage for the enigmatic encounters that unfold within these walls. The light emanating from the large glass window bathes the room in a warm, ethereal glow, casting intriguing shadows upon the tapestries adorning the walls.

In the heart of this captivating tableau was Jing Yuan, rising gracefully from his seat, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes. He strides purposefully towards a holographic chessboard, his movements imbued with a fluid elegance that bespeaks his familiarity with this place of strategy and intrigue. Your footsteps falter as you come to a halt before him.

With grace and precision, you present the lunch box to Jing Yuan, a symbol of your commitment to this orchestrated rendezvous. His countenance softens, a glimmer of contentment flickering within his eyes as he acknowledges your presence.

"I am truly grateful for your presence once again.”

"Did you anticipate my visit?"

Jing Yuan responds promptly, his head inclining in confirmation, accompanied by a warm smile. "Indeed, I did. Yet, I must confess that a part of me entertained the possibility that you might not come. After all, it was only yesterday that you graced these halls."

A reciprocal smile graces your lips as you reply, "Yet, here I stand before you."

Jing Yuan's smile widens, his satisfaction palpable. "Please, join me. There is no need to remain standing for too long. The journey from your estate can be quite wearisome."

Expressing your gratitude, you settle into the familiar seats. The room's ambience envelops you with power and intrigue that adorns every corner.

As both of you find your places, the conversation continues to flow, bridging the gap between formality and familiarity. Jing Yuan's inquiry follows the trajectory of your impending departure after the meal, seeking to comprehend the constraints that govern your interactions.

"Will you also be departing after lunch?" he inquires.

"Indeed, I shall. My mother deems it fitting that I do not overstay my welcome, mindful of your valuable time and the duties that claim your attention."

However, it was a fabrication. The matriarch had not expressed any concerns regarding the duration of your stay, and even if you were to extend it, she would not object as long as you kept her informed about your activities with Jing Yuan. It was solely your desire to depart promptly, understanding the pressing responsibilities that demanded his attention, particularly the documents that remained on his desk.

The situation persisted, much like the previous day, with no signs of abating. 

"I have no objections if you choose to prolong your presence. I am capable of fulfilling my duties effectively.”

As Jing Yuan's confident reassurances escaped his lips, a flicker of hesitation danced within your being. Yet, deep down, you recognized the responsibility he carried and knew you couldn't succumb to the temptation before you. Your gaze wandered to his desk, still adorned with stacks of documents, each demanding his undivided attention. The burdens he shouldered were palpable, and you couldn't bear to introduce any distractions.

A fleeting parting of your lips hinted at your desire to respond, only to be promptly silenced as you realized that silence would be your most prudent course of action. You shared an unspoken understanding with Jing Yuan, a tacit agreement acknowledging the delicate equilibrium he meticulously navigated. You were well versed in the rules and regulations governing the Seat of Divine Foresight, and your intent was to honor them.

Even as his betrothed, you resisted exploiting the special treatment Jing Yuan had bestowed upon you. Preserving a sense of decorum and adherence to the protocols that permeated this esteemed place was paramount. Your visits already deviated from convention, lacking formal appointments or prior notice. It remained vital to recognize and uphold the boundaries that encompassed your interactions.

The weight of your station as the betrothed of General Luofu bore down upon you, amplifying the gravity of every action and word that emanated from your being. It necessitated a heightened sense of vigilance, an acute recognition of your place within the intricacies of power dynamics. Yet, you resolved not to cower in the face of adversity, refusing to allow others to trample upon you simply because you were a woman. You possessed an indomitable strength and unfaltering resilience, steadfast in your determination to navigate this wretched world on your own terms.

Seeking solace within the borrowed book from Jing Yuan's office, you immersed yourself in its pages, temporarily escaping the complexities that ensnared you. Settled in your customary spot, your focus honed in on the words before you, their significance gradually permeating your consciousness. It served as a respite, a fleeting intermission from the burdensome weight of expectations and the impending battles that awaited you.

Amidst your fervent reading, you couldn't help but discern stolen glances directed your way by Jing Yuan. Though fleeting and peripheral, you keenly perceived his eyes lingering upon you before he averted his gaze, returning his attention to the documents that commanded his time. 

It left you contemplating his intentions. Did he yearn to broach a topic and ask a question but hesitated, fearful of disrupting your reading? There was no need for such apprehension, for you were always willing to carve out moments for him, to engage in substantive conversation when the occasion called for it.

Returning your focus to the pages of the book, a subtle curiosity lingers within, its presence undeniably palpable. With calculated precision, you surreptitiously steal glances at Jing Yuan, patiently awaiting the opportunity to ensnare his gaze. It doesn't take long for your patience to be rewarded, as your eyes engage in a silent exchange of understanding.

Jing Yuan's lips curl into a modest smile, an unspoken connection forged between you. Seizing this fleeting opportunity, you decide to address the tacit tension that hangs in the air, subtly prompting him with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you have any queries for me?" you inquire, your tone composed and unwavering. Jing Yuan shakes his head in response, a faint furrow forming upon his brow, betraying a hint of confusion.

"Nothing comes to mind. Pray tell, why do you ask?" 

With an air of candidness, you make your astute observation known. "Jing Yuan, you have been surreptitiously stealing glances at me for quite some time now. It seems as though there is something on your mind that you wish to convey."

A soft chuckle escapes Jing Yuan's lips, his eyes shimmering with a blend of amusement and reassurance. "I beg your pardon if I have given off such an impression. My sole intent was to ensure your comfort within these walls."

Running the tip of your tongue over your lower lip, you take a momentary pause, thoughtfully mulling over his response. It becomes evident that his intentions were rooted in genuine concern, albeit tinged with a trace of uncertainty. With measured deliberation, you carefully choose your words before responding.

“I am entirely comfortable.”

As you contemplated your response, a profound realization of the authenticity behind your words washed over you. The comfort found within Jing Yuan's office surpassed that of the ancestral estate where you had resided for countless centuries. Although a lingering wariness still clung to your senses, you couldn't deny the tranquility and serenity that permeated the expansive chamber. Within its walls, a profound sense of peace embraced you. The only sounds that dared to disturb the stillness were the gentle hum of the starskiff's engines, the delicate scratching of Jing Yuan's pen against paper, and the hushed whispers of the pages as you turned them.

It was indeed relaxing that you want to relish it.

A soft utterance from Jing Yuan punctuates the silence, carrying a genuine concern in its tone. 

"Is that so? I am glad to hear that you find solace within these walls," he says, his voice imbued with a gentle warmth. "If you ever require anything, do not hesitate to seek my aid."

You offer a nod of gratitude, acknowledging his benevolent offer. The unspoken understanding between you deepens, solidifying the bond you have cultivated. Once more, tranquility settles over the room, enveloping you both in a shared recognition of the necessity for unwavering focus and undisturbed concentration.

As you resume your reading, a fleeting thought flutters through your mind, igniting a spark of curiosity. Does Jing Yuan dedicate his days solely to tending to these documents? Does his diligence define the entirety of his pursuits, or does he engage in other endeavors beyond the confines of this office? It is a question that stirs your inquisitiveness, hinting at the intricate layers of complexity that lie beneath his composed exterior.

You smoothly transitioned your thoughts, directing your curiosity towards a more immediate matter that had ignited within you. With effortless grace, you posed the question that had lingered upon your tongue. 

"Do you partake in any hobbies?" The words flowed seamlessly, capturing Jing Yuan's attention as he momentarily ceased his scribbling, his gaze now fixed upon you. The subtle twitch of his lips and the tilt of his head betrayed an intrigue.

"I do indeed have hobbies," he responded, his voice tinged with a touch of amusement. "Occasionally, I indulge in playing chess."

His eyes shifted to the holographic chessboard that lay between the two of you, the pieces frozen in their strategic arrangements. The prospect of engaging in such a cerebral battle intrigued you, despite your limited knowledge of the game, restricted to the fundamental rules and the basic movements of each piece.

"Do you possess skill in playing chess?" Jing Yuan questions, his curiosity mirrored within the depths of his gaze. You shook your head, confessing your lack of experience.

"I am acquainted with only the rudimentary aspects, the basic moves of the individual pieces. However, I have yet to engage in an actual game," you admitted.

"Would you be interested in attempting a game?"

"Perhaps at a later time," you replied, accompanied by an apologetic smile. Though the notion of partaking in a game of chess intrigued you, the weight of responsibilities and matters that demanded Jing Yuan's attention prevailed for the present moment.

"Very well," Jing Yuan acquiesced, his understanding evident. "When the opportune moment presents itself, we can delve into the intricate depths of the game. Fear not, for I shall be there to guide you every step of the way."

"That would be lovely." You flash him a faint smile.

A blue glow materialized in front of Jing Yuan's desk, captivating your attention and drawing you both into its enigmatic presence. Swiftly discernible as a holographic projection, it unveiled the figure that emerged from its depths, none other than the revered Master Diviner, Fu Xuan.

"General Jing Yuan, I have—"

Her words faltered as her gaze fell upon your form, sitting alongside Jing Yuan. An ephemeral flicker of surprise graced her countenance, quickly replaced by a subtle undercurrent of tension as she realized your presence within the private and hallowed confines of the Seat of Divine Foresight. With a slight furrowing of her brows, Fu Xuan's curiosity ignited, silently contemplating the reasons behind your unanticipated appearance.

"Ah, Diviner Fu, is there something you wish to convey?" Jing Yuan queried, his pen abandoned as he focused his complete attention on the holographic projection before him.

Fu Xuan's countenance softened, a faint trace of apology lingering within her tone. "I do bear crucial information to impart, but it seems you are accompanied by another. I apologize for this abrupt intrusion."

Her gaze shifted towards you, acknowledging your presence with a respectful nod. "Greetings, Lady (Name). I was unaware of your visit to the General's office."

You met Fu Xuan's gaze, reciprocating her nod with a composed air. "Greetings, Diviner Fu. This visitation was unforeseen, an impromptu occurrence. I came here yesterday as well," you elucidated, cognizant of the necessity for transparency within this venerable place..

Fu Xuan's eyebrow ascended inquisitively, her gaze transitioning between Jing Yuan and yourself. A fleeting suspicion seemed to momentarily color her countenance, but she swiftly regained her composure, though a residual trace of tension remained etched upon her features.

"Yesterday?" she echoed. "You paid a visit yesterday as well?"

In response, you affirmed her inquiry with a nod, meeting her gaze with an air of serene honesty. "Indeed, I ventured here yesterday to deliver sustenance, and I have returned today as well."

Fu Xuan's scrutiny deepened, her suspicion simmering just beneath the surface. Yet, she deftly composed herself, comprehending the intricacies entwined within the situation. The weight of her unspoken thoughts hung in the air, bearing witness to the delicate interplay of concealed truths and cautious discretion that governed their domain.

Mindful of the precarious equilibrium, Fu Xuan discreetly chose not to delve further into the nature of your visits.

"Very well. I shall grant you both privacy," she accedes, a subtle nod accompanying her words. "I shall convey the message to you at a later time, General."

With that, her holographic projection dissipated, leaving behind an intangible aura of lingering tension.

Fu Xuan's hesitation in sharing the message was apparent, her guarded demeanor betraying her suspicions towards your presence in their sphere. Understandably so, as the possibility of the message being confidential information justified her caution. You, however, remained unfazed by her wariness, fully aware that your sudden appearance in Jing Yuan's life had left everyone in the dark about your true nature.

The lack of knowledge surrounding you only heightened the importance of proceeding with caution and the daunting task of earning the trust of Jing Yuan's subordinates and acquaintances. It was clear that a meticulous plan was necessary to establish a sense of faux innocence and disarm their skepticism. Your objective was to gradually chip away at their doubts, even if your true intentions were far from innocent.

Your attention now turned towards dismantling the walls that surrounded Jing Yuan's defenses, fully aware of the formidable challenge that lay ahead. Breaking through would require careful strategy and unwavering determination, as those defenses were a testament to the hurdles in your path. Yet, you remained undeterred, ready to overcome any obstacles that stood in your way.

To achieve your goal, you devised a plan that involved delving deeper into Jing Yuan's world. Your aim was to uncover shared interests and engage in conversations that would demonstrate your genuine curiosity and understanding of his pursuits. It was through finding common ground that trust and understanding could blossom.

Patience and gradual progress became your guiding principles. You knew that rushing or forcing a bond would only undermine your efforts. Instead, you would let time weave its tapestry, building upon each interaction and shared moment. Your approach would be attentive and observant, offering subtle yet meaningful support and encouragement.

Lunch was served once again, presenting a familiar array of mouthwatering dishes that mirrored the previous day's indulgences. With genuine delight, Jing Yuan praised each delicacy, savoring every bite as his satisfaction radiated from within. Mesmerized by his unfeigned enjoyment, a soft smile graced your lips, acknowledging the authenticity of his pleasure.

Together, you savored the flavors and shared the meal, engaging in light conversation that flowed effortlessly between you. The passage of time brought with it the moment to bid farewell and return to the estate. Recognizing this, Jing Yuan kindly offered to accompany you, Yanqing absent from his side on this occasion. Earlier, he had mentioned the young boy's unwavering focus on honing his skills, aspiring to surpass even Jing Yuan himself as an unparalleled swordsman.

Jing Yuan openly acknowledged Yanqing's boundless potential, expressing his belief that as the boy reached adulthood, his strength would surpass his own. He spoke with admiration about Yanqing's talents, despite his tender age. Additionally, Jing Yuan shared the story of how fate had brought the orphaned child into his care, becoming his loyal retainer.

Amidst the conversation, a smile played upon your lips, appreciating Jing Yuan's dedication to shaping Yanqing's character during his formative years. He spoke of the boy's occasional immaturity and impatience, emphasizing his role in guiding and molding Yanqing's character before habits and attitudes became deeply ingrained.

"Yanqing can be quite spirited at times, particularly when his desires are unfulfilled," Jing Yuan confessed.

"He is but a child, and such behavior is understandable.”

Indeed, they were still sheltered in the shadows of adulthood, shielded from the harsh realities that awaited them. However, as time revealed its mosaic, they would encounter truths that lay beyond their limited knowledge and experiences. Challenges would arise, testing the wisdom they had gained and pushing them to grow.

It was the duty of adults to guide the younger generation, sharing advice and wisdom to light their paths. Yet, it was ultimately the children's choice whether to embrace or disregard that guidance, forging their own distinct journeys through life.

The transition from childhood to adulthood required a delicate balance between nurturing and independence. The influence of mentors intermingled with the blossoming autonomy of the young, creating a dance of influence and self-discovery. It was in the choices made during this transformative stage that their destinies would take shape, molding them into the unique individuals they were meant to be.

Memories of your past swirled within your mind, intertwining with the present. Once, you had stood at the precipice of youth, driven by a fervent longing to become a legendary swordsman, akin to the revered Cloud Knights whose valor and noble deeds had ignited your spirit. Your aspirations were noble and pure, rooted in a desire to protect the people and to be counted among the valiant defenders of Xianzhou Luofu. With determination, you had immersed yourself in arduous training, guided by a master whose watchful eye sculpted your skills.

However, fate dealt an unexpected blow, casting a shadow of tragedy upon your path. The sudden loss of your esteemed master shattered your world, forever altering the trajectory of your life. The echoes of his demise resonated through the fibers of your being, leaving you adrift amidst circumstances you could never have foreseen.

In the wake of this profound loss, your life underwent a deep-seated metamorphosis, steering you onto an unforeseen course that diverged from the righteous ideals that once fueled your ambitions. It was a disorienting transformation, a departure from the path you had fervently believed in.

As was now customary, Jing Yuan bid you farewell with a tender gesture, his lips lightly grazing the back of your hand. "I'll eagerly await your return tomorrow," he said, his smile warm and genuine.

"I will do my best.”

 As you stepped into the starskiff, preparing to depart and make your way back to the estate, the weight of your past experiences remained firmly etched upon your heart.

The memories of your ambitious aspirations, the rigors of your training, and the tragic loss that had reshaped your destiny persisted, entwining with the present. They served as a reminder of the journeys you had undertaken, the trials you had faced, and the person you had become.

In the silence, you contemplated the convergence of past and present, knowing that the echoes of your personal history would continue to resonate within you. The chapters of your life intertwined, interwoven with the budding connections and dynamics of your present circumstances.

As you entered the estate, the two guards and the maid respectfully parted ways, their duty as your chaperones for the day now fulfilled. Similar to the previous day, they bid their goodbyes, their expressions polite but devoid of any personal connection. It seemed that their acknowledgement of your presence was merely perfunctory, their perception colored by your position within the esteemed Hongying clan.

The servants you encountered along the way, though aware of your arrival, chose to turn a blind eye to your presence. It was as if you were a ghost passing through their midst, your existence acknowledged only by the faintest shift in the atmosphere. The air itself seemed to hold more weight than their indifference towards you.

Yet, you found solace in this anonymity, a convenient cloak that allowed you to move about undisturbed. Their lack of acknowledgement proved advantageous, for you had no desire to seek their recognition or approval. In the grand tapestry of your mission and pursuit of freedom, their acknowledgement was inconsequential.

Your purpose remained steadfast, unyielding. You had come to this estate with a clear objective, and it did not involve garnering the regard of the servants who scurried about their duties. Their ignorance, intentional or not, worked in your favor, providing you with the freedom to navigate the corridors and chambers without unwarranted attention.

With each step you took, a sense of liberation blossomed within you. Unfettered by the expectations and pretenses that often accompanied one's social standing, you moved through the estate like a shadow, unseen yet keenly aware of the world around you.

In the end, their indifference became an asset, shielding you from prying eyes and unnecessary distractions. As you pursue your mission, you remain focused on the ultimate prize—fulfilling your purpose and reclaiming the freedom that had eluded you for far too long.

As you proceeded down the corridor, your measured steps harmonizing with the solemn ambiance, an all-too-familiar sound shattered the tranquility, jolting your senses into alertness. The repugnant resonance reverberated through the air, its impact leaving an unsettling imprint upon your being. It was a sound that had accompanied your presence within these walls since the moment you arrived—a sound that spoke of dominance and power, drenched in a perverse satisfaction.

Compelled by a mix of curiosity and apprehension, you turned the corner, a breath caught within your chest. And there, the scene unfolded before your eyes—a tableau that evoked both repulsion and sympathy. The matriarch, her bearing regal and authoritative, stood with an icy air of command, her gaze fixed unwaveringly upon the maid kneeling before her. Clad in the humble vestments of her station, the young woman bowed low, her body bent in servitude.

A vivid splotch of crimson adorned her delicate complexion, a damning testament to the force with which the matriarch's hand had met her flesh. Disheveled tendrils of golden hair partially obscured her visage, a curtain veiling the pain and humiliation etched upon her features. She remained motionless, frozen in her subservient pose, her stillness embodying a profound sense of anguish.

This poignant scene laid bare the power dynamics that governed this domain, where acts of violence and dominance were enacted without remorse. The matriarch's stern countenance mirrored her unyielding grip on authority, while the maid, reduced to a mere vessel of the matriarch's displeasure, bore the visible and invisible scars of her actions.

"You, an incompetent fool!" Lady Mingzhu's voice lashed out with venomous disdain, her words dripping with scorn. The weight of her anger echoed in the corridor, reverberating through the air like a sinister melody. Her hand clenched around a handful of her own hair, eliciting a pained whimper from the maid, who knelt before her, caught in the cruel grip of her superior.

"I apologize—" The maid's attempt at an apology was swiftly interrupted as Lady Mingzhu violently shoved her head, causing her voice to falter and fade away. The matriarch's words seared through the air, like daggers aimed at the young woman's wounded spirit.

"The insufficiency of your apology is a mere drop in the ocean of shame you have brought upon me! Fortunately, you did not besmirch the guests' attire with spilled tea, staining their expensive robes! Had you done so, the lash would have been your deserved punishment!"

The word "lash" struck you like lightning, electrifying your senses. The memories of the matriarch's own punishments upon you surged forth, flooding your mind with a torrent of unwelcome recollections. It was a word stained with pain and cruelty, a word that awakened a visceral response within you, causing your body to tremble involuntarily.

As you refocused your gaze upon the maid, a glint of bloodlust shimmered in her piercing green eyes, even through the strands of hair that obscured her face. Her gaze, sharp as a dagger, did not escape your notice. It emanated an icy chill, a deadly aura that caused you to inhale sharply, a fleeting intake of breath to steel yourself against the palpable danger that emanated from her very being.

This girl…

Lady Mingzhu released an audible sigh of exasperation, her mounting frustration filling the air around her. The weight of her annoyance was palpable, as though it threatened to consume the very atmosphere. With an air of superiority, she dismissed the kneeling maid, her words laced with a mixture of condescension and disdain.

"I have no more time to waste on someone as feeble-minded as you. Consider yourself fortunate that I am still willing to show leniency. However, should you dare to commit another mistake in my presence, rest assured that you will face dire consequences."

Adjusting her posture, Lady Mingzhu carried herself with a regal elegance, her gaze fixated on you with a glimmer of curiosity and impatience. The remnants of her anger were etched upon her face, a testament to the lingering frustration that had yet to dissipate.

"You have finally arrived," she addressed you sharply, her tone laden with urgency. "I have pressing matters to attend to. Inform me once I have concluded my affairs with the guests."

As she drew nearer, her steps purposeful and determined, she passed by the kneeling maid without sparing her even a fleeting glance. It was a scene that evoked a sense of familiarity, reminiscent of your own past when you had knelt in similar positions of insignificance before Lady Mingzhu. Yet, something about the maid caught your attention, something that set her apart from the rest.

"Understood, Lady Mingzhu," you responded in a measured tone, conveying your respect through a respectful bow.

The rhythmic cadence of Lady Mingzhu's heels echoed through the hushed corridors as she gracefully withdrew from the scene. With her departure, your focus shifted to the maid, who diligently sought to regain her composure. She straightened her uniform with meticulous care, methodically brushing away the remnants of dust, a determined effort to restore her appearance to its former state of pristine order.

As you drew nearer, the sound of your own footsteps caught her attention, prompting her to turn her gaze in your direction. The once chilling and lethal glint in her eyes had transformed, now veiled beneath an exterior of innocence and humility. In that fleeting moment, her eyes met yours, acknowledging your presence in a manner unmatched by any other since your arrival within the clan's boundaries.

Responding to your command, she promptly lowered herself into a bow, a gesture of respect that had not been extended to you before. It was a significant gesture, imbued with a glimmer of newfound recognition.

"You," you spoke with authority, your voice commanding her attention. "What is your name?"

"I am Yuyan, my lady," came her reply, her voice carrying a delicate blend of softness. It possessed a subtle sweetness, tinged with a hint of formality, reflecting a casual nonchalance tempered by a deep-rooted sense of propriety.

Intrigued by the enigmatic Yuyan, you found yourself captivated by her presence, your gaze intently studying every facet of her being. From the delicate contours of her face to the poised placement of her feet, no detail escaped your discerning eye. There was an undeniable aura of dignity that enveloped her, manifesting in the graceful manner in which she carried herself, effortlessly shifting her weight with an innate poise.

As her emerald irises locked with your own, you sensed a certain remoteness in her gaze, an unspoken depth that hinted at hidden thoughts or perhaps a closely guarded secret. Lost in the intensity of your observation, you could not ascertain how long you had been fixed upon her. It was as if she had an uncanny awareness of your intense scrutiny, yet she remained unruffled, her composure unyielding in the face of your inquisitive gaze. A subtle flicker of amusement ignited within you, recognizing a familiar trait in her steadfast demeanor.

"Come with me, Yuyan."

With a simple command, Yuyan obediently followed you without questioning, a display of unquestioning loyalty that you found somewhat gratifying, despite the underlying knowledge of your true status as a mere pawn in the Hongying clan. As you led her towards your quarters, she trailed behind without hesitation, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity.

Upon reaching your room, you opened the door, positioning yourself to face her as you gestured for her to enter. There was a noticeable hesitation in her movements, but eventually, she complied, crossing the threshold into your small and intimate space. Yuyan closed the door behind her, and you couldn't help but notice the intensity of her gaze fixed upon you as you made your way to the study table.

Your fingers glided gently over the smooth cover of an unfinished book, a bookmark peering out from between its pages. Sensing her unwavering attention upon you, you finally spoke, without casting a glance in her direction. Your focus was solely on the book before you, flipping it open to the page where the bookmark rested.

"How long have you been working in this estate?" The question slipped from your lips, delivered in a measured tone that invited conversation, even as your eyes remained fixed on the book.

"A week ago…"

As Yuyan stood before you, her eyes filled with respect and reverence, you began to understand the reason behind her deferential treatment. 

This girl is new.

It became clear that she must have been aware of your fake identity as the daughter of the esteemed clan heads. In the midst of the widespread engagement that enveloped Luofu, it was only natural for her to treat you differently than those who had long served the Hongying clan.

Yet, despite this realization, a sense of caution lingered within you. Before considering any potential benefits that Yuyan's presence might offer, you need to confirm a crucial detail. The air in the room seemed to hold its breath as you carefully chose your words, striving for clarity and precision.

"Tell me, Yuyan," you began, your voice steady and composed. "What led you to seek employment within the Hongying estate? And what do you hope to achieve during your time here?" Your gaze finally lifted from the book, meeting hers directly, as you awaited her response.

You discerned a momentary flicker in her gaze, reminiscent of the one you had noticed earlier, but she promptly averted her eyes and blocked your path, preventing further scrutiny. The ensuing silence hung heavy until her soft voice broke through.

"I am solely here to seek employment to cover my mother's medical expenses," she confessed, her voice firm. She kept her gaze lowered, fidgeting with her fingers. The sincerity in her words and tone left no trace of deceit.

With a sigh, you made your way to the cabinet to retrieve the first aid kit. A small bruise on her lips caught your attention, prompting you to address it. Taking a seat on your bed, the only available seating in your modest room, you gestured for her to join you.

"Come here. Let us promptly treat the bruise on your lips to ensure proper healing," you instructed, opening the kit and gathering the necessary materials.

"I can attend to it myself, my lady," she countered, but you disapproved with a gentle shake of your head.

"I insist on personally attending to it to ensure thorough cleaning. Please, remain still," you stated firmly.

Yuyan's countenance shifted, her brow furrowing with a mixture of doubt and suspicion, as she locked her gaze onto you with intensity. There was an unmistakable resolve in her voice, tempered with a firmness that bordered on harshness, as she fearlessly confronted you.

"What do you want from me?" she demanded, her words infused with a guarded skepticism. "Acts of kindness from individuals of your esteemed stature often conceal hidden motives."

You couldn't help but be intrigued by her perceptiveness and her swift construction of walls between the two of you. Her caution was conspicuous, a shield against any potential manipulation. A subtle smile played upon your lips, appreciating the astuteness she displayed. Yet, you understood that further evidence was required to solidify your initial assumptions.

Maintaining your composed demeanor, you rested your hands upon your thighs, meeting her accusatory gaze with an unwavering look of your own.

"Hold this." You extended your hand, offering Yuyan the pair of scissors you had retrieved from the first aid kit. Her frown deepened, confusion evident in her gaze as she regarded the object before her.

"Why?" she inquired, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"You need it.".

"What do I need it for?" she pressed, seeking further clarification.

The corners of your lips rise, clearly amused at the wariness of Yuyan. "You need it to cut the bandage for your bruise."

Yuyan's gaze remained fixed upon you, her eyes tracing your every movement as you stood and made your way back to the study table. The intensity of her scrutiny was palpable, as if she were dissecting your every action, watching you with the attentiveness of a hawk.

"Yuyan, I must commend your keen observation," you remarked, your attention still focused on the task at hand. "Your perceptiveness exceeds that of a mere maid, does it not?"

As you opened the drawer and retrieved the object, its true nature remained concealed from her. The room filled with a sense of intrigue as you posed a question that probed into her past.

"Before you became employed here in the estate, what was your previous occupation?" you ask, a hint of playful curiosity seeping into your voice. Your fingertips brushed against the cool surface of the object, catching the glint of sunlight filtering through the windows.

"A waitress..." Yuyan's response was hesitant, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Is that so?" you replied, a mischievous undertone woven into your words, leaving the true purpose of your inquiry veiled for now.

In a lightning-quick motion, you unleashed the dagger with calculated precision, hurtling it towards Yuyan's face. However, to your astonishment, she reacted with unparalleled speed, parrying the oncoming blade effortlessly using the scissors you had handed her moments ago. The clash reverberated through the room as the dagger found its mark on the corner side, its impact resonating with a metallic clang.

A fierce glare now emanated from Yuyan's eyes, her expression transformed into one of grim determination and danger. The realization hit you like a jolt of electricity, confirming the instincts that had drawn you towards her from the moment you laid eyes upon her. She was not just a mere maid; she possessed skills honed in the crucible of the battlefield. Her bloodlust was not a facade, but rather a testament to her years of arduous training.

It was clear now—she had the ability to kill.

A knowing smile spread across your face, a mix of satisfaction and intrigue. The confirmation of her abilities only fueled your curiosity further, leaving you eager to delve deeper into the enigmatic depths of Yuyan's past and the secrets she held within her.

"I do believe such swift and precise moves are hardly characteristic of a waitress," you remark, your tone infused with a knowing air. 

The weight of your words lingers in the room, highlighting the incongruity between Yuyan's purported occupation and her exceptional defensive skills. Her lips tighten, a manifestation of the inner conflict she grapples with, as the weight of the recent events settles upon her. Clinging tightly to the scissors in her grip, she casts a deadly gaze your way before swiftly averting her eyes, focusing instead on the ground beneath her feet.

A pregnant pause envelops the room, each passing second adding to the gravity of the revelations that have unfolded. However, the silence is abruptly shattered by a sudden motion. With uncanny speed and precision, Yuyan launches the scissors towards you. Reacting instinctively, you snatch the book from the study table, raising it as a shield to protect your face. The resounding impact reverberates through the room, the clash of metal against the book's cover echoing sharply.

As you slowly lower the book, your gaze meets Yuyan's, her posture now relaxed despite the unveiling of her hidden abilities. Her words hang in the air, spoken with a blend of resignation and a touch of defiance.

"Now that you are aware, there is little point in concealing it any longer," she declares, baring the truth and removing the shroud of secrecy that once divided you. Her unwavering gaze meets yours. "And if you will pardon me, I too have come to realize that such quick reflexes are not commonly found in a sheltered noble lady."

A ghostly smile adorned your lips, a fleeting expression that danced with amusement and intrigue. Yuyan's statement and the implications it carried captured your attention, evoking a sense of appreciation for her skills and astuteness. The significance of her battlefield-honed abilities became evident, their potential value resonating within your mind. Such attributes should never be underestimated, for they held the power to shape destinies and sway the tides of fate.

"Hmm... how quaint," you whispered softly, savoring the irony and the countless possibilities that lay before you.

Yuyan visibly tensed as you closed the distance between you, her form stiffening like a statue frozen in time. The atmosphere crackled with palpable tension, her unyielding gaze meeting yours with an unwavering resolve. She held her ground, a testament to the self-guarded vigilance she had cultivated over the years.

Coming to a stop before her, you observed as Yuyan took a sharp intake of breath, her eyes fixed upon you with unwavering determination. The small smile still graced your countenance, an acknowledgment of the connection that had formed—an unspoken understanding and recognition of the untapped potential that bound the two of you together.

"I understand your reasons for seeking employment here," you began, your voice steady yet cautious. "However, I find it challenging to place my trust in your past occupation and the implications it carries."

Yuyan's jaw tightened, a visible effort to maintain her composure despite the weight of your words. The gravity of the situation settled upon her, and you could sense the apprehension radiating from her as she struggled to meet your gaze.

"Do you still wish to continue working here?"

"Yes, because this is the only way..."

"Then, you must comprehend what I seek. I cannot find reassurance in an employee who traverses these premises with an undisclosed identity, particularly after what I have witnessed earlier. I cannot guarantee the safety of the Hongying clan with individuals of unknown backgrounds."

Your words hung in the air, their impact sinking into Yuyan's consciousness, causing her to break eye contact and lower her gaze. Apprehension permeated the atmosphere, a tangible presence that enveloped the space between you. While you typically preferred not to pry into the personal affairs of others, the safety and well-being of the Hongying clan took precedence, most importantly, you. 

You sought Yuyan's unwavering loyalty and trust, recognizing the immense potential that her hidden abilities could offer. It would be a disservice to let such potential go to waste over time.

Amidst the charged atmosphere, you remained composed, your gaze unswerving upon Yuyan. Your words had struck a chord within her, urging her to confront the truth and reveal her hidden identity. The delicate balance between securing her loyalty and ensuring your safety demanded careful navigation—a delicate dance that would shape the path ahead for both of you.

"What do you gain if I disclose my past? Will you dismiss me?" Yuyan challenged, her voice tinged with strain.

Your response was resolute, delivered with an air of honesty and authority. It caught her off guard, evident in the widening of her eyes and the slight parting of her lips. The weight of your offer began to settle upon her, casting a new light upon the path that lay before her.

"No, I require your presence instead," you declared, meeting her gaze firmly while you lift her chin up with your finger. Her disbelief mingled with surprise at your words and actions. "I need you to work under me. Moreover, I am prepared to provide financial support for your ailing mother as long as you pledge me your unwavering loyalty."

Your words carried the weight of truth, delivered with the refined demeanor of a true master. The proposition intertwines with support and opportunity. Yuyan's question lingered hesitantly on her lips, her gaze briefly flickering towards you. 

“Why me?”

"You already know the answer to that question. It is evident," you replied, your gaze fixed upon her, awaiting her response to your proposition. 

In your intricate scheme, the first step was to find a trusted ally who could execute your orders in your absence, a messenger who would faithfully report back on the happenings within the clan. Yet, more than that, you sought a partner with reflexes and capabilities surpassing your own—a companion who could flawlessly carry out your intentions.

The air buzzed with suspense as you awaited Yuyan's decision, fully aware that her choice would shape the path that both of you would traverse.

Yuyan's voice carried a hint of curiosity as she sought clarification. "That's all you require?"

"Indeed. I ask for nothing more than your unwavering loyalty. That is my command."

"And how can I be certain that you will honor your end of the bargain?"

A smirk danced upon your lips, a testament to your amusement and admiration for her skepticism. "I am a person of steadfast principles. My word is my bond. Should I ever fail to fulfill my promise, you have my permission to take my life."

Her jaw dropped, eyes widening in astonishment. "What? Are you truly so desperate for my loyalty that you would willingly exchange your life for it?"

A chuckle escaped your lips, a confident yet composed response. "To clarify, my intention was not solely to earn your loyalty. I acted based on my principles, for I am an individual who values the weight of words more than anyone. Words possess immense power, capable of leaving lasting scars upon a person's being. Even unfounded hearsay, devoid of evidence, can be blindly believed by fools.”

Yuyan scoffed, a lingering trace of skepticism still present. "Very well then. I shall accept your command and your word, with the understanding that if you stray from your principles, I will not hesitate to end you. I hope you truly uphold the beliefs you so strongly claim, lady."

A sense of pride swelled within you as the conversation reached its conclusion. "You have my word," you declared, your smirk growing. The exchange marked the beginning of a new alliance, forged on trust and the unyielding principles that defined your character.

In a surprising display of loyalty, Yuyan knelt before you like a knight and took your hand in a solemn gesture. Her voice resonated with determination as she spoke her oath, her words carrying a weight of commitment and unwavering allegiance.

“I, Yuyan, do hereby pledge my unwavering loyalty to Lady (Name) of the Hongying clan. I shall be at your command, ready to face any challenge or adversity that may arise. I pledge to protect and support you, standing steadfast by your side. Bound by the principles of chivalry, my allegiance to you shall remain unwavering and true.”

As her pledge came to a close, Yuyan pressed a gentle kiss upon the back of your hand, sealing the pact between you. The sincerity and earnestness in her words touched a chord within you, filling you with a sense of pride and fulfillment. Finally, you had found someone willing to work under your command, someone who would be a loyal companion in your endeavors.

However, a veil of cautiousness still lingered within you. While swayed by her pledge, you knew that trust must be earned over time. This conversation between the two of you had unveiled only a glimpse of what lay within her mind. Possibilities, both promising and uncertain, filled the air, urging you to tread carefully and observe the progress with Yuyan. Time would reveal the true extent of her loyalty and the nature of your partnership.

"From now on, I am your master."

As the weeks rolled by, your visits to Jing Yuan's sprawling office took on a sense of familiarity. The once-familiar face of the former maid had now given way to Yuyan, a change you had specifically requested from the matriarch. Surprisingly, Lady Mingzhu had acquiesced to your request, albeit with a lingering trace of hesitation in the air.

The reasons behind Lady Mingzhu's acceptance remained elusive, shrouded in the enigmatic depths of her intentions. Yet, you couldn't help but speculate that your encounters with Jing Yuan were progressing as she desired. The intricacies of the matriarch's motivations, though intriguing, held little sway over your determined pursuits. So long as your carefully crafted plan continued to fall into place, you remained undeterred.

Having Yuyan by your side, rather than the chosen maid handpicked by Lady Mingzhu, added an undeniable sense of reassurance to your endeavors. Her presence brought with it a unique blend of competence and loyalty, qualities that bolstered your confidence.

With her graceful poise and keen intellect, Yuyan proved to be more than just a mere replacement for the former maid. She possessed an uncanny ability to anticipate your needs and adapt swiftly to any situation, making her an indispensable asset in your careful plans.

"I am delighted to partake in a tea party with Lady (Name). It is truly an honor," one of the guests expressed with evident joy. In response, you graciously returned a smile before delicately sipping your tea.

As you sat in the elegant pavilion, surrounded by the esteemed ladies of powerful clans, the atmosphere brimmed with a sense of refined grace and intrigue. The matriarch had extended her gracious invitation, gathering these influential women for a tea party—a momentous occasion within the intricate tapestry of social and political alliances.

With practiced ease, you exchanged pleasantries and engaged in light conversation, masking the true purpose behind your presence. It was a calculated move born out of necessity, a means to redirect your frequent visits away from Jing Yuan's office. The realization had dawned upon you that your repeated ventures into the seat of divine foresight were neither appropriate nor conducive to the sacred purpose it served.

The hallowed halls of the office were not to be treated lightly, akin to a casual visit to a friend's abode. Within its sacred walls lay vital information and the stage for crucial meetings with dignitaries and representatives from various commissions. Your unannounced presence disrupted the flow of communication, hindering the efficient relay of messages intended for Jing Yuan.

The weight of guilt settled upon your conscience as you recognized the potential consequences of your unwelcome intrusion. What if a critical message arrived but was delayed or lost due to a messenger spotting you within those revered confines? The urgency of the matter might be undermined, impeding prompt action and potentially altering the course of events.

To relieve this burden, you crafted yet another convincing falsehood, deftly presenting it to the matriarch. Your words were chosen with utmost care, designed to sway Lady Mingzhu's discerning mind.

Lady Mingzhu's face contorted into a deep frown, her displeasure palpable in the air. She responded with a sharp and angry voice, her words carrying the weight of her frustration. "Kindly enlighten me as to the rationale behind your actions. I must caution you that if your explanation is deemed insufficiently reasonable, I will not extend leniency due to the mounting anger within me, (Name)."

Maintaining your composure, your gaze remained locked with hers as you calmly explained your decision. 

"It is a matter of gathering evidence to ascertain the true significance of our encounters to Jing Yuan," you articulated, your voice steady and measured. "If our interactions have indeed been meaningful to him, then he will feel compelled to come and visit me in return. By ceasing my visits, we can gauge the extent to which we have successfully achieved our plan in forging a connection between us. Isn't it a way to determine if we have truly made progress and fostered warmth within his heart?"

With your convincing explanation, Lady Mingzhu acquiesced to your request, and you refrained from visiting Jing Yuan's office for nearly a week. As each day passed without his presence at the estate, a sense of anticipation grew within you, fueling the need to reassess your strategy.

In a candid conversation with Lady Mingzhu, you shared your concerns, emphasizing the necessity of developing alternative plans in case Jing Yuan did not make his way to the estate as expected. The Seat of Divine Foresight beckoned in your mind, its potential as a source of valuable information and insights becoming increasingly apparent. Recognizing the weight of this decision, the matriarch agreed to your proposal, understanding the importance of adapting your approach to achieve your objectives.

In the interim, Lady Mingzhu took the initiative to organize a tea party, a grand gathering carefully curated to introduce you to other noble ladies of esteemed standing. As the perceived daughter of the revered Hongying clan, it fell upon you to establish yourself within high society and showcase your influence. The tea party served as a platform for you to deftly navigate social connections, leaving an indelible impression on those in attendance and solidifying your position in the upper echelons of society.

"It is indeed a surprise to receive a letter from Lady (Name) of the esteemed Hongying clan," one of the guests concurred. "She has always been known to immerse herself in her studies, seldom venturing into social gatherings. Lady Mingzhu and Lord Liqiang have often mentioned her dedication to the library. She is truly a remarkable woman."

A subtle smile played upon your lips, accompanied by a slow shake of your head. "I never anticipated that my parents would share my indulgences with others."

The truth remained hidden behind the facade carefully crafted by the clan heads. The invitation to host a tea party and your supposed engagement with Jing Yuan were all part of their intricate schemes. As a pawn, it is your obligation to navigate the unpredictable tides created by their ploys.

"How is the engagement with Jing Yuan, Lady (Name)? If it is not too presumptuous of me to inquire," one of the guests asked, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

"Everything has been proceeding smoothly since the announcement of our engagement. No major developments have arisen thus far."

"Oh, how I envy you, Lady (Name)! To be engaged to the esteemed and powerful general!" The girl with brown locks giggled, sharing a secret desire. "I apologize if my words offend you, but I have often fantasized about him as a partner and husband."

You chuckled at her candidness, appreciating her lightheartedness. "I appreciate your honesty. You are not alone in your admiration for General Jing Yuan. Many ladies from various houses harbor similar thoughts."

A chorus of agreements echoed around the table, affirming the appeal and desirability of the renowned general.

"Is he also the apple of your eye before your engagement?" One of them asked that you stop. 

A gentle smile graced your lips as you responded to their inquiries with poise and discretion. 

"No. Before our engagement, I admired General Jing Yuan for his prowess and intelligence in protecting Xianzhou Luofu. However, I did not entertain the thought of him as a potential partner. My focus has always been on my studies and fulfilling my responsibilities."

The truth of your words remained concealed behind a veil of secrecy. The clandestine nature of your true intentions compelled you to maintain a careful distance, even as you played the part of an engaged woman. The notion of harboring romantic feelings for anyone seemed inconsequential in the face of your duties as a pawn of the Hongying clan. You had been groomed to exceed their expectations, executing their commands flawlessly, and there was little room for personal desires or attachments.

A hint of curiosity flickered in the eyes of one of the guests as she probed further. "So, is there someone else who has captured your heart?"

Your eyebrow arched slightly at the unexpected question, yet you maintained your composure and responded with grace. "I am fully dedicated to my studies, as my mother has mentioned. My attention is solely focused on my pursuit of knowledge and the responsibilities entrusted to me."

"Oh! Lady (Name), I presume you are studying to become the next heiress?" 

Although it was not the truth, you chose to acquiesce, allowing them to hold onto their beliefs and keeping the complexities of the powerful clan's schemes concealed.

"I am eagerly looking forward to your upcoming union with General Jing Yuan!" 

"Suyin, have you already found a suitable match for marriage?" the girl asked, her tone tinged with sarcasm as she addressed Suyin directly.

Suyin paused, her eyes widening and her jaw slightly agape, caught off guard by the unexpected question. Your gaze shifted to the woman who posed the question, a smug smile adorning her face, seemingly pleased by Suyin's discomposure.

"I have not..." Suyin began to respond, her voice trailing off.

"Well, I had already surmised as much, considering your apparent disinterest in marriage. Or perhaps you have faced rejection?" the woman remarked, her smirk betraying a hint of satisfaction at seeing Suyin taken aback.

With a sense of weariness, you observed the cruel nature of the noble attendees and the display of their superiority. The room buzzed with whispers and snickers, each sound a reminder of the power dynamics that governed their interactions. Their smug expressions and mocking glances aimed at Suyin exposed the ugly underbelly of their privileged world. It was a stark reminder of the inherent cruelty and callousness that permeated their social circles.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, a weary exhale born from years of witnessing such disdainful behavior. This was the norm in their world—a realm where individuals sought to elevate themselves by belittling and demeaning others. The nobility reveled in their dominance, using their words as weapons to assert their superiority and maintain their positions of power.

As the conversation shifted to the failed union between Lady Suyin and Lord Yichen, your eyebrow arched inquisitively. It seemed that the noble circles were abuzz with the news of a more suitable marriage candidate being found for Lord Yichen. Time had passed since your last interaction with him, and it was not surprising that he had swiftly found a new prospect given the vast network of connections and resources at their disposal.

While you had little personal interest in the affairs of others, you couldn't help but acknowledge the efficiency and expediency with which the noble elite maneuvered their relationships. Marriages were strategic moves meticulously orchestrated to consolidate power, solidify alliances, and preserve wealth and influence—a calculated dance conducted for the sake of societal gain.

"It is truly regrettable that Lady Suyin and Lord Yichen's union did not come to fruition," someone remarked with a hint of disappointment.

Suyin managed a faint smile, her lips trembling as she responded, "I-I do not mind if our union was rejected. I am capable of handling things on my own."

Another guest interjected, "Is it true that your clan is facing financial challenges, as rumors suggest? Could it be the reason why your parents are earnestly seeking a marriage alliance with a wealthy and influential family?"

Suyin hesitated, her voice faltering as she tried to form a response. However, before she could reply, a guest gasped in astonishment, placing a finger on her lips. "So, it appears that these are not mere hearsays, but indeed a factual situation?"

Amidst the murmurs and gossip that circulated among the attendees, the focus shifted to the condition of Suyin's family and the recent rejection of her union with Lord Yichen. In high society, such instances were not entirely uncommon, as the dynamics of alliances and marriages were subject to the ever-changing tides of power and influence. Yet, the news of a renounced union after the exchange of vows and commitments held a certain allure for the noble class, who relished in the drama and scandal that accompanied such revelations.

The implications for Suyin's family, however, were far more severe. The rejection of their union not only bore the weight of personal disappointment, but also threatened to tarnish their reputation within high society. Rumors of impending bankruptcy only added to the uncertainty surrounding their clan, casting a shadow of doubt and speculation upon their standing and financial stability.

Yet, as an astute observer, you were cautious not to hastily embrace such rumors and hearsays. In the world of aristocrats, where information was often distorted and manipulated for personal gain, it was wise to exercise discernment and rely on official news or statements from the clan themselves. Until concrete evidence emerged, you reserved judgment and refused to let mere gossip shape your perception of Suyin's family.

In this world of illusions and facades, where appearances and reputation were meticulously crafted and fiercely guarded, it was essential to navigate through the murky waters of speculation with a level head and a discerning eye. You understood the power of information and the consequences of blindly believing rumors, choosing instead to rely on verifiable facts and the actions of the concerned parties themselves.

While the situation surrounding Suyin's family remained shrouded in uncertainty, you remained composed and vigilant, carefully evaluating the whispers and insinuations that floated through the air. The truth would eventually reveal itself, and until then, you would remain a steadfast observer, guided by reason and evidence rather than the whims of gossip and hearsay.

"If I were in Lady Suyin's situation, I cannot fathom how I would bear such a burden of shame," one guest lamented.

Your gaze shifted towards Suyin, observing her bowed head and tightly pressed lips. A subtle quiver ran through her shoulders as the guests continued discussing her predicament.

"Fortunately, the Hongying clan displayed generosity by extending an invitation for this tea party.”

"They truly are a remarkable family," another chimed in.

"It is possible that the renouncement of their potential union is due to the financial troubles plaguing their clan.”

As the voices of disapproval grew louder and the discomfort on Suyin's face became increasingly apparent, you found yourself increasingly irritated by the relentless gossip and speculation. Taking a sip of your tea, you sought solace in the soothing warmth of the liquid, attempting to dispel the frustration that threatened to seep into your system. The noise, the chatter, and the opinions of those around you grated on your nerves.

While you understood the validity of their opinions and the societal norms that dictated their reactions, what truly aggravated you was the propensity to believe in rumors without concrete evidence. It seemed that sympathy, or even a semblance of empathy, was an elusive emotion for the nobles who surrounded you. Instead, they reveled in the power plays and whispered scandals, relishing in the misfortunes of others without pausing to consider the impact of their words or the underlying humanity of those affected.

The absence of evidence and the lack of firsthand knowledge seemed inconsequential to them, as they forged ahead with their judgments and condemnations. It was a reminder of the shallow nature of high society, where appearances and status took precedence over genuine understanding and compassion. Empathy, it seemed, was a scarce commodity in these circles, overshadowed by the hunger for power and influence.

Yet, you resisted the urge to be swayed by their callousness and refused to join in the chorus of gossip. Instead, you chose to maintain a sense of detachment, allowing your own moral compass to guide your thoughts and actions. Sympathy and compassion were not weaknesses to be shunned, but rather strengths to be embraced and nurtured.

"Enough," you declare with an authoritative and final tone that brings all conversations to a halt. The room falls silent as all eyes turn towards you, captivated by your commanding presence. Placing your cup of tea down, you straighten your posture and fix your gaze upon the gathering, every inch the embodiment of confidence and authority. 

"Hearsay of such magnitude does not deserve attention without substantial evidence. Only official statements from both parties involved can provide a conclusive account, and as of now, no such announcements have been made regarding this matter. Until then, it is not our place to engage in baseless discussions and spread unfounded rumors. If the rumors were indeed true, it would indeed be regrettable that their engagement was revoked. However, what is even more shameful is engaging in discussions based on unverifiable information."

The room remains hushed, the weight of your words sinking in. The attendees exchange glances, their expressions shifting from smug satisfaction to a touch of apprehension. They have come face to face with a side of you that they had not anticipated, a sharp reminder of the depths of your character that lie beneath the poised facade.

Suyin's eyes widen slightly, and you can see a flicker of hope dancing within them. It is as if your words have breathed life into her, dispelling the cloud of doubt that had enveloped her earlier. She watches you intently, a mixture of anticipation and curiosity reflecting in her gaze.

"And generous, you say?" you remark, a sly smirk gracing your lips. "Perhaps you overestimate my generosity. I am not inclined to show kindness to those who seek to provoke me. So, I would advise you to reconsider the initial impression you had of me. You do not truly know who I am. It is mere hearsay."

As you express your words, you confidently lift your cup once again, savoring your tea. With a newfound sense of self-assuredness, you care less about their perceptions of you, understanding that dominance is valued in this world rather than weakness. By emanating confidence, you ensure that they cannot wield control over you.

Curiosity piques within you as you raise your gaze from the cup, only to find their eyes fixed on a point behind you. Their expressions shift to surprise and disbelief, leaving you perplexed as their attention is clearly diverted elsewhere. Wondering what has captured their attention so intensely, you turn around to discover what has captured their focus.

As your gaze shifts towards the source of their surprise, your eyes widen with recognition and disbelief. Standing there, with an air of confidence and a trace of amusement on his face, is none other than Jing Yuan.

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Square/Prompt: A3-Crossover (Show)

Title: Search through the loamy earth for me

Rating: G

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling

Warnings: n/a

Additional Tags: The Detectorists, metal detecting

Not at all fleshed-out lil fic about Hob joining the Detectorists to try and find one of his missing treasure caches. I love the Detectorists. I want to come back to this fic properly one day and properly work on it, but for now, I'll fill this prompt with it. :)

When Hob Gadling walks into the weekly meeting of the DMDC on a fine day in May, he is greeted by looks of mild bewilderment by the existing club members, who are all sitting in a lopsided circle drinking cups of weak tea out of old duck egg blue cups and apparently enjoying a discussion about the latest discoveries unearthed in the Danebury countryside, namely two buttons and a 1977 matchbox car.  Apparently new members looking to join is a sufficiently rare occurrence that initially no-one knows what to do but stare. However, once Hob makes a plea for his case- and hefts his new and rather expensive Minelab Manticore Metal Detector into view for all to see- he is welcomed with open arms, and his very own cup of watered-down tea. 

“Hob, eh?” says Terry, the de facto leader of the DMDC, when Hob introduces himself. “An appropriately medieval moniker. And what brings a fine fellow like yourself out to our corner of the world?”

Hob is in fact here for the very specific reason of wanting to rediscover one of his old hoards. He is 100% sure that he buried it… somewhere  in this corner of North Essex, but the centuries are long: borders change, names evolve, and even his memory has its fallibilities.  This is not something, however, that he can share with these affable looking chaps without coming off like a complete nutter, so he makes up something vague about having an interest in Saxon history and having heard the rumours of a Saxon ship-burial around these parts somewhere.

This immediately draws Lance and Andy to him, best friends and accomplished local detectorists. Andy is certain there is a Saxon ship-burial waiting to be found beneath the fields of a nearby farm, and he is pleasantly surprised to have a fellow believer join their club. Lance is less convinced about the probability of Saxon treasure, but he is impressed with Hob’s top-of-the-range detector and invites him to join them on one of their detecting ventures the next day.

Hob spends an enjoyable amount of time out in the fields with Lance and Andy. He supposes metal detecting could be quite boring for some people, but he’s learned to enjoy the slow things and there’s something inherently good about spending time outdoors in the late spring, and something kind of exciting every time his detector beeps. 

Occasionally, Dream joins them in the field. Hob explains about his rather odd boyfriend over drinks at the Two Brewers one night, and the two men take Dream’s random appearances and quiet and slightly menacing presence in their stride. Lance in particular seems to enjoy talking with Dream and explaining his craft, while Dream himself is a receptive audience, listening gravely and nodding along as they walk together. 

Hob overhears a snatch of their conversation one time, and stops to listen properly

“See, archaeologists, they gather up the facts, piece the jigsaw together, work out how we lived and find the buildings we lived in, but what we do is… that’s different. We unearth the scattered memories, mine for stories, fill in the personality. Detectorists. We’re time travellers.”  Lance is saying. He is holding something in his hand that Hob can’t see but that Dream is looking at with interest. He glances up and over a Hob, raising a mildly impressed eyebrow. Hob laughs, yes he can see why Dream likes this one. He always finds the ones with stories in their hearts. 

Hob doesn’t end up finding his lost hoard, but he is present for the moment that Andy and Lance unearth their own special find: turns out Andy’s theory about the ship-burial was spot on after all.