#just overall salty at the situation

[semi-sketchy]

In case anyone is wondering how I took that new Xenoblade trailer...

Yeah I didn't cope well.

The day after I finally finish recording all my audio for this video essay about Xenoblade 3, they hit me with "the DLC is coming out 8 months early, we're about to make your video irrelevant before it's even finished." It's...kind of a shot in the arm, to be honest.

Don't get me wrong, it's genuinely great they're able to get it out so quickly and I'm not upset at anyone but myself. This project has been a lot of work and an overall lack of focus and interest in other things kept me pushing it aside. I'm salty because I really thought I had more time.

I seriously don't want this project to make me unjustly bitter at the game. Right now, I don't even know if I'll be able to play it at launch because I'm just so swamped with editing. (I still haven't bought the DLC because I've been holding out for a physical version like we got with Torna.)

Considering this whole thing started on Tumblr, I'm thinking I'll release the written version of this essay early so at least some of it is relevant for a period.

I wanted it to coincide with the video, but this is seeming like the best option right now as even though I've kicked production into overdrive, there's no way I can finish this in a week. The YouTube processing time alone would be longer than that, anyways.

And hey, a lot of my issues with the narrative are still unique to the game. The extra story isn't going to change the ending of chapter 6 or suddenly fix the pacing issues. Even if we get explanations for everything in the DLC (which some major ones certainly look like they're gonna be addressed) my point about not needing to purchase additional content to understand key elements still stands. That might be the lens to look at it through. I just hope it doesn't make the video unbearable to watch.

I might not be able to get this out before the DLC drops, but this time I can make sure it's not too long after.

Anyways, the trailer itself? Looks cool! I'll admit, after XC3 I'm already a tad skeptical about how they're going to handle these characters, but it looks good. I didn't really want it to be a prequel, but considering how many holes that needed to be filled on Aionios, it makes sense.

I'll just leave this with some screaming over a few characters.

[puckinghischier]

hi there, English is not my first language but I hope you will understand me.I have a request for a nico one shot about reader being in a friend group and slowly getting left out and eventually getting replaced. at first she didn't tell nico bc she didn't want hit to worry but neeks slowly noticing a slight change in a reader behavior and ask reader what's wrong. at first reader don't want to talk about it but at the end the whole bubble breaks and reader is sobbing and crying in Nico's arms. I hope you understand what I mean.Btw i LOVE all your fanfics, I hope it's not too long, thank you in advance ❤️❤️

he had noticed the slight shift in your routine. suddenly you were home more, a little clingier, asking if you could tag along with him and the guys more often. none of which mattered to him. if anything, nico loved the extra time spent with you. but you just seemed…sad.

he realized you hadn’t mentioned any plans with your friends recently, at first just chalking it up to him being on a stretch of home games and you wanting to spend your time with him before he had to leave again. but when he was on the road for the better part of a week, and you were home, in your pjs every night he called you, he knew something was up.

“schatz, can i ask you a question?” nico asked you after dinner one night, having sensed your overall demeanor was off all day.

“sure, you know you can always ask me stuff,” you turn to face him, leaning into the plush couch.

he thinks about how to word his question without sounding accusatory or like doesn’t enjoy the increased time together. “well…i’ve just noticed, you’ve been home a lot more lately and i haven’t heard you talk about the girls much recently. is there a reason? or are you just so obsessed with me you can’t bear to be apart,” he tries to add humor to offset the serious connotation of the sentence.

your body goes rigid, surprising him. you won’t meet his eyes, your hands coming together to pick at your fingernails. he watches the tears prick at your eyes, alarm bells going off in his head.

“i-, no, it’s nothing. just, no plans lately,” you say, voice strained, still not meeting his eyes.

he watches your lip tremble, knowing there’s more to the story, but not knowing if he should push the issue or accept the answer. he brings a hand over to rest on your knee, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion.

“okay, i was just curious. didn’t know if something had happened or if you just wanted more nico time,” he chuckles, trying to relieve some of the sudden tension, no humor found in the situation.

his attempts were futile, because the second the words left his mouth you broke down, falling forward into his arms. he held you as you sobbed on his shoulder, slightly shocked at the sudden outburst of emotions.

“hey, shhh. it’s okay, sweet girl. i’ve got you, okay? i love you,” he tried to reassure you, lifting you to fully sit on his lap. he let you purge whatever emotions needed to be let out, not pulling back from the tight embrace until you did.

he’s met with your puffy, red eyes. he can feel the wet spot on his shoulder, but ignoring anything that isn’t you. brining his hands up, he wipes away the wetness on your face, squishing your face together while pulling it forward slightly, giving you a salty kiss.

“you know i love you, right?” he asks you as he pulls back from the kiss, earning a small nod of your head.

“i love you too,” you rasp out, bringing your own hands up to run down your face, wiping your own tears. “sorry about all that i just…been holding that in for awhile.”

nico removes some hair that was sticking to your cheek, shaking his head. “what’s going on, sweetheart?”

you take a deep breath, suddenly embarrassed. “it’s stupid, really. i mean, i’m a grown woman, i shouldn’t be upset over something so trivial,” you start, a humorless laugh escaping you.

“no, we’re not doing that. if it’s making you feel like this it’s important, it doesn’t matter what it is,” nico responds, slightly scolding you. “just tell me, maybe i can help.”

you smile at his words, heart swelling with love for the man in front of you. “well…basically i don’t think i have friends any more? i mean, i don’t know. for the past few weeks i quit getting invites. i thought at first maybe it was a lull in plans with the whole group, but when i saw them posting they were out for drinks one night and i checked the group chat to see that the group chat…didn’t exist anymore, i realized what was happening,” you start, shrugging.

“i messaged each of the girls individually, but no one responded. then it turned into taking digs at me in their captions on their pictures from dinners, nights out, events i was never invited to. no one ever told me why. or if i did something. one night we were at the bar grabbing dinner and drinks while you were on the road and the next, i was booted from the group chat and never to be spoken to again,” you tell him, knowing it’s all over the place and confusing, but it’s the truth. one night you were laughing and chatting with your best friends. the next, you were sitting alone at your apartment, watching them get together without you.

“it’s so middle school mean girl coded, but even at 24, it hurts. i know i don’t need those type of women in my life, but they’re my friends, neeks. at least…i thought they were,” you started tearing up again, feeling nico squeeze the hand he was holding.

nico’s heart breaks for you, knowing how much you loved your girls. he can’t imagine who, in their right mind, would just kick someone as caring, sweet, and loving as you out of their life for seemingly no reason.

“oh, my sweet girl,” he brings you back in for an embrace. “you’re too good for them, you know that?” he tells you, meaning every word.

he always had some issues with your friend group, but he never voiced his concerns, because he didn’t want to upset your or seem like he was being controlling. he could tell they were always just…off though. always wanting to tag along with you to hockey games, wanting a box when you told him you liked sitting down in the crowd better. they always changed plans you suggested, doing what they wanted instead of what you wanted. only ever wanting to attend get togethers at yours and his apartment if other guys from the team were gonna be there.

“it just sucks, neeks. i mean, how pathetic? i’m a grown woman who has no friends and her only social life revolves around her professional athlete boyfriend? i feel like such a leech,” you admit.

nico sees red, wanting to go and give all of those women a piece of his mind for how they’re making you feel.

“listen to me, don’t you ever say those words to me again, do you hear me?” he fusses at you, as serious as he’s ever been. “you’re the farthest thing from a leech. i want you around me all the time. i want you to tag along to every event, every team outing, every game. i enjoy spending my time with you, and getting to have you to myself every night.”

your heart swells once again, having been worried lately you were being too clingy.

“those women? they’re the pathetic ones. if they can’t see the absolute gem of a person they had around them, then they’re the ones who should be ashamed,” he looks you in the eyes as he speaks, willing your brain to soak in and listen to every word.

“i love you,” is all you can think to say in response, not knowing how else to express your feelings in the moment. you lean in to touch your lips to his, wishing to convey every ounce of thankfulness, love, and appreciation for him through the kiss.

he kiss you back softly, pulling back after a few moments.

“so, now that that’s settled, you wanna go out for drinks with me and the guys tomorrow? think a few of the other wives and girlfriends are coming, too. might be fun?” he asks you, already concocting a plan to find you a new, trustworthy group of girl friends.

“hmmmm, let me check my schedule, i might be booked and busy,” you joke, his words having made you feel light as a feather, any sadness working its way out of your body.

he rolls his eyes at you, letting out a playful growl as he attacks your neck with kisses, earning a laugh out of you.

[lexpupz]

warnings: pure filth, dom!bada, G!P BADA (sorry to all the g!p haters), facefucking, sweaty sex, very very lowkey dubcon, spitting (also just a tiny bit), facials, bdsm, slapping, bruises and overall marking, dacryphilia, bondage,

wordcount: 1.2k

a/n; just a little drabble to start out maybe? many people wont probably like it and if so, its okay. we all have our tastes. also i think ive gotten enough of these brainrotting and perverted ideas so maybe sweet little soft service top!bada next time.

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

i dont care how smiley she always gets i did NOT come here to fuck around. may not be the girthiest cock ever but its soooo veiny and sosososoosooooo longgggg ARGHGHRHR. cant get enough of her clean-shaven balls like im ready to take it all at once no joke. bada is literally the epitome of a kink explorer. any new fetish she sees online or hears about from her friends can keep her awake all night thinking about all the ways she could use it. its hard to surprise her with your tastes cause shes seriously done it all.

when it comes to her favourites, ugghghhsh facefucking immediately comes to mind. coming home, absolutely drenched in sweat — im talking wet tshirt, bangs sticking to forehead, sweat slowly rolling down the side of her face, leaving a wet handprint on anything she touches, ugghsj you can quite literally smell her presence, all of the dirt mixing with her perfume and salty liquid all over her body. 😵‍💫😵‍💫 — dropping the duffel bag full of more dirty clothes somewhere in the middle of the room, she immediately sets off to find you. igdhh and when the smell hits your nose you already know whats up. and when i tell you bada stops caring about your wellbeing and makes you strip yourself off of all your self-respect when she gets horny... 😮‍💨. grabs the back of your neck and just pulls you off the couch, your knees hitting the ground rather roughly. no time for belts, just unzips her jeans and pulls it right out, and LORD the sound of the slap it makes when it hits your face. your brain wouldve probably blocked it all out if it wasnt for the precum oozing everywhere already and the smell of her sweaty cock thats been smothered by the thick fabric of her pants for hours on end now. both of your hazy gazes meeting eachother and oohhhhhdjd the way she squints while looking down at your lips before gently placing her thumb between your lips to spread them wide open, her length now resting somewhere on your chin. you really gotta appreciate how delicately shes treating you, knowing whats about to come. her sweaty palms lightly pressing into your jaw line, she pulls your head closer, planting the very tip of her cock right next to her thumb, which is now covered with the drool thats been mixing with her precum on your chin, slowly dripping down into your lap. no need to explain further, her sticky palms now forcing you by the back of your head, sliding her length down your throat. and when your nose hits her lower stomach, the groan that leaves her throat makes you impossibly wet. you know that trying to resist her wont help your situation so you just let it all happen, placing your own hands on the back of her knees purely for support. her thrusts are slow and short at first, hitting the back of your throat rather softly while she groans some inaudible mumbling from above (not that you would understand if she was talking clearly, already drowning in the sounds your mouth makes around her cock). and when she does finally speed up and her soft groans become rougher youre not even present anymore, lost in the sensation of the constant pounding in your throat. and when i said throatfucking i meant throatFUCKING — straight up using that mouth as a fleshlight. and instead of feeding you all that delicious cum, she insists on pulling out and sprays your whole face with the white liquid; ranging from the very base of your nose, running down your cheeks, also leaving a humble trail on your tongue just to continue more on your already wet chin. if it wasnt for you closing your eyes, you might have gone blind too with the thin coat painting your eyelids. all of her pretty liquids mixing with her sweat thats been occasionally dripping down on your face from her own chin. and finally, to finish it off, she blesses you with a few drops of her saliva, spitting them down your fucked out throat. she runs her slender fingers through your messed up hair leaning in to peck your forehead — the only part of your face left bare. she smiles fondly, giving both your face and her own length a few last strokes before leaving to finally wash up her sweaty body. making me think hard about toxic bada, leaving her poor baby all alone, dumbed down from all the dicking down, with no aftercare ://

and thats not where toxic bada ends because... 🙃. gotta go crazy for (maybe more than) slightly violent bada esjsjwonfrj. or maybe im just heavily deranged. but i mean... shes sooooo tall and soooooo strongggg. so maybe while the two of you are fucking she just, idk, accidentally knocks you down onto the ground. DBSJJSKAKFK seriously listen like the tight grip she has on your face while youre leaned over the kitchen island getting your guts rearranged. her other hand constantly traveling up and down your waist, while shes trying not to lose her own mind because of all the sweet sounds that are slipping past your lips —because of her baby is so so pretty being vocal and telling her just how good shes making her feel —, and then... oops 🫢 her hand leaves your cheek just to come back with a stinging sensation, leaving a pretty handprint in the process too 😵‍💫. youre barely realising what happened at first, too caught up in the pleasure, but when bada notices youre not protesting, or crying or looking up at her in pure bewilderment, she just does it again and again until... her last slap makes you yelp out loud, the strength of it forcing a few tears to glide down your red cheeks. i mean... she would probably cum just from the sight of that but... 😒. she ALWAYS has to have you marked up, whether its the stinging feeling on your ass whenever you sit down, the perplexed looks earned by all the love bites and hickeys, the purple bruises all over your knees also occasionally appearing on your back and thighs 🤩🤩,or ofcourse, as mentioned before, the red traces of her fingers and palms left on your cheeks.

bada is most definitely also a freak for bondage 😵‍💫😵‍💫. and im like straight up biting my hand rn ehshwhsgs. im talking ropes, tapes, handcuffs and all sorts of chains and stuff like that. sooooo into shibari its crazyyyyy hdjsjs. she would learn all these different patterns and styles just so you can look all pretty and tied up for her. it honestly makes her tummy twist and turn when she hears your mewls when shes kissing all over your chest, — her nose occasionally scratching the red bondage rope that she took so long tying around you because she just couldnt stop letting go of the rope in her hands to grab your hips grind them against her lap a few times more. — you cant do anything else but just quiver under her touch and hot breath. she cant stop calling you her 'pretty tight slut' making you twitch under her touch even more. AAARGRGHRH and when she sits you on her lap, holding both of your hands which are tied up at your back, as you grind against her length, riding her.

[lis-zhuk]

A friend of mine told me abt them so.. yeah

Generally, i have no strong headcanons for neither subkit duo, nor roblox avatars.

Generally. I think subkits have that funny rivals-lovers vibe to them? They both are rough at edges, probably in either scenario exchange slurs and salty bites.

but i have a hc for roblox avatars in general:

Roblox avatars are chubby, filled with gel-like substance. They have no gender, no organs, they both hear and communicate waves. Highly modifiable, their "skin" is not that hard to pierce.

Their cores are dissolved in the gel, its is really hard to kill an avatar. Eyes are black, dumb and small, mouths are simple, lacking teeth or tongues.

phi.avatars (phi.demons) are a different case. Their bodies are the same - filled with transparent gel, but the fun thing begins at cores. See, phi.demons have distinct solid cores. Magic cores, if you insist. Phi.demons need food, water and minerals to function, yet they are rather durable. "Skin" Casing of phi.demons is tough and remind resin a lot. Phi.demons share a body and organ structure with my Animated stickmen hc and, accordingly, one of a monocellular organism.

Food and water are dissolved in organs, nutrients go into the gel fluid, minerals are shared by the core and the gel. Core is a rather finnicky organ - it consumes matter and post-dissolving waste into magic and crystals, which form the horns of a phi.demon. For quite a while they just grow, emitting almost no glow whatsoever, but when the antlers are completely form they stop changing is size and start gaining light. Like a cacti store water, horns store magic.

After the horns stop in growth, the crystal waste forms a protecting shell underneath the skin. Magic is just stored in their gel.

The horn storage is a backup of some kind, drawing phi.demons able to survive near-death experiences, save consciousness in dire situations and get that one last spark of magic to save themselves in danger. Horns loose their glow after that and become really fragile, reminding gemstones.

Younger(?) subspace and medkit ^

It is considered disgusting to break and save foe's horns. Overall horn touching is prohibited and considered intimate. Though, phi.demons do hornswoggling for fun, if it ends up with a horn being broken, the loser of the fight (the one who broke the other's horn) provide care and help with the recovery.

Phi.demons have black sharp teeth, they hear and smell with their skin.

[mamiya-a]

Playing dangerous

Mother Miranda/reader

Warning for explicit content.

Chapter 14: Love

Summary:

"Love is nothing else but an insatiable thirst of enjoying a greedily desired object." - Michel de Montaigne.

Miranda doesn't like her situation, at all. Neither her current weak position on that matter. She would easily say and show her clear hatred towards the happening, if it weren't for her pride whispering into her ears, honey covered words telling her she can endure it. Although, with every passing second she gets angrier, a rare feeling, given her eagerness for participation. She blinks rapidly, questioning if rushing out of this quickly put together trap is worth the trouble. Of course not, she came here willingly. Yet the purpose of her visit has lost its sense.

Miranda can feel thickness of darkness landing upon her body, though she feels more like a corpse currently, it's enough to keep her awake and sane. The devoid of light has never been a problem to her, but eyes can easily betray the brain. The picture of an unknown room is clearly, an empty box she has found herself trapped in, however it hurts her to acknowledge she's alone. Loneliness is a trait she often suffers from. Swallowing it is a kid's game, but knowing that someone you love has left you on purpose is another question.

Waiting for Mia is a long, boring tragedy. Miranda would say exhausting if she were a normal human. Which she's not, which Mia loves. Owning her rare obedience is a strange pleasure for the younger women. That's why she feels no guilt in locking her so called lover in a trap she can escape, but won't - simply because she has been instructed to behave. That's why Miranda's mobility is limited too. With her stomach pressed to a significantly soft bed, head buried in pillows and arms wrapping with tight rope, she can't do anything else but to wait.

It's raining outside. Every drop of salty sky water hits the ground relentlessly, causing an echo inside the overall silent room. Miranda uses each droplet to count the minutes , spent in pure darkness and solitude. Her mind even starts to wonder if this is some kind of punishment Mia is forcing upon her, after hearing the news that the blonde woman wishes to cut their relationship. This time entirely. Thinking about this makes her pale skin itchy, the rope is squeezing her wrists too tightly, three layers of scrappy robes are covering her uncomfortably and her hair is spilling around her face. Everything is irritating her, everything is too stimulating. The sounds of the rain and the emptiness of the bedroom. Nothing and everything merging together to spin her head to the point of dizziness.

Then the door opens. It's strange how the morally evil woman brings light into Miranda's universe. It's pure manipulation, of course. A very precisely calculated tactic - to drawn the helpless woman to the point of pity and immediately after hit her with illuminating care. Mia's strings of love are twisted, but not enough since they crave to capture another soul into them. And Miranda has made the mistake to allow this. The yellow light ,coming from another room, quickly dies. Mia replaces it by turning on a lamp , strong enough to illuminate the bedroom. A curved smile appears on her face once she gets assured Miranda has followed her instructions and is just like she left her. At her mercy, that is.

"Obedient as always." - Mia's comment is unnecessary polite. The other women tries her best to stay calm, yet something is the thick air is suggests an unpleasant event. The brunette's steps get closer and closer until her entire body stops beside the bed. Miranda shifts her head to a side only to be able to witness the placing of a knife and few candles, which Mia places on the left nightstand. Blue eyes sharpen, staring at the objects, trying to understand their need. - "I hope you're not awaiting a reward, not after..."

"Is that why you made me wait?" - Mia's face obtains an angry expression upon being cut from her right to speak. Miranda's voice is louder than usual, hinting her actual opinion towards the happening and perhaps the woman beside her. She pulls on the ropes, earning herself a click of the brunette's tongue. Rage is certainly a burning emotion. - "For candles? I'm not in the mood to play, Mia, so will you stop with-"

"Ethan...keeps on noticing  a different scent on me." - with a fake, forced smile Mia begins to explain. Blue eyes tracking her every move as her hand searches for something inside her pocket. Soon enough she pulls out a lighter. - "I don't know what kind of perfume you're using, but it's strong, Miri." - the younger woman's quick fingers manage to fire up the waiting to ignite tips of the candles. After a few sniffs Miranda acknowledges they're scented. She cannot exactly find out the origin, however it's something floral  and unexpectedly strong. - "And we can't have him finding out about us, can we?"

Ethan Winters. The man who's last name Mia proudly wears as her own. Her chosen lover, her partner is life, her husband. The enemy in Miranda's eyes. With the passing years she realised she cannot replace him, no matter how much she tries, how much she submits to Mia or try to win her over. Everything she has wrapped her claws around are the mere words of love her colleague has whispered to her in moments of passion. Useless hope, with no room for justice. It took Miranda a while but now she sees it clearly. If Mia were to desire it she would never show up in her life again. Like a cold statue without a beating heart, which the blonde keeps on hugging, craving for crumbs of warmth. Isn't that the reason she came here? To Mia's family house, shared with her husband, in order to end it all and forever. Yet she found herself out of luck. Ethan was absent, which allowed Mia to drag her into her bed again, the bed she shares with the poor man.

A realisation slowly builds up inside Miranda's mind. Mia is inescapable. She's trapped - both physically and mentally. It makes her...weak.

"You think he would get suspicious if you just told him you've got yourself a new perfume?" - the blonde's voice is changed. The irritation has been replaced with calmness. To Mia, however, her tone is filled with annoying audacity to argue. So much for her forced obedience. The younger woman scoffs, her smile daring to disappear.

"You just can't stop yourself and your...solutions, can you?" - as if their roles has been replaced, Mia is now the angry one. She finds the knife from earlier without mich struggle. Miranda senses her idea, but fails to stop her. A second later the room fills up with awful sounds of tearing fabric. A hissing noise escapes the blonde woman's lips, her bare back now completely exposed. - "Can't even keep her mouth shut." - a final whisper before the tip of the knife presses it's sharpness to Miranda's lower back.

"Mia." - although Miranda speaks her name in attempt to confront her, the other woman can't help herself but bite her lower lip. She enjoys her name being repeated in such voice, especially now when she knows there's no excitement behind her tone. Only discomfort, or in her eyes - fear. She knows Miranda would never actually be afraid of her, but she settles to believe it. The knife continues down, forcing out another hiss, it's sharpness following the many layers of robes, but not with the intention to ruin them as well.

"I love it when you wear those fancy ceremonial clothes. Always forcing your authority on others." - the dark colours, the elements of the late lords, who died from Miranda's hand, the pure drama of her outfit - with the crow feathers and many fabrics, piling up on each other, offering a fake vision of a priestess's image is undeniable consuming. Mia loves it because it shows how much power Miranda has, and how much she's ready to throw away just for the brunette's attention alone. Now, however, she can't hide her anger of seeing her chosen outfit. After all her little, shackled village has been long fallen to ruins, along with her followers. Miranda has no reason to wear this old clothes. Yet she has done it - only to show her power and maturity. And maybe to restore something that has been dead for years - the respect Mia once had for her. - "Is that why you came dressed like that? To scare us?" - Mia makes a pause, giving herself enough time to lean over Miranda's head and to speak to her in a whisper. - "or...maybe to seek control?" - she smiles. - "the control you granted me."

"...You're crossing a line, Mia." - it's a weak attempt for a warning, even Miranda realises that after the sentence leaves her dry throat. The line she's speaking of is practically non-existent, and if it had sides, both of them would agree Mia is the one holding the stronger one. She easily mixes her own domination over Miranda and she knows which buttons to press just enough to anger her, knowing that even then she won't find out. Even currently, when their relationship is more than questionable and none of them is sure what to call it. Professionalism and love are already forgotten about.

"Am I really?" - her breath is hot against Miranda's ear. It makes her head dizzy all over again. - "You're the one allowing this to happen, Miri." - Mia moves back, somehow reminded her informal lover how to breathe normally. The blonde woman takes a good look at her shackled, probably bruised wrists from the ropes and sighs. She finds herself very close to ripping them. Just before that, however, Mia changes the position of the knife - this time pressing it at the space between her shoulder blades, where the black veins like curves are the thickest. This motion forces Miranda to choke. Mia knows any touch with more pressure against her back feels like playing with her bare spine, yet the younger woman doesn't think of stopping. - "Just look at you...I wonder what all those who have fallen dead at your feet will say about you now...cold, relentless...mad." - Mia describes a version of Miranda that she herself has forgotten about, once reunited with her daughter. The brunette doesn't fail to remind her just how ruthless she was. - "A murder hidden under the skin of a god. What would your daughter think of you?"

Miranda's rage is more than expected. Eva is the real end line for her. But Mia knows her well, too well. A reaction is almost unnecessary. All she does is wrap her fingers around thin layers of honey coloured hair and twist, while also pushing down so Miranda's face can stay buried in the pillows. This way her weak screams come out muffled and secured while Mia drags the knife over her sensitive back. She only stops once her crimson blood becomes a visible paint on the blank canvas of her skin.

"Mia...Mia..." - all that's left to fill up the room now is soft, almost silent whispers of a name, too nicely sounding for an evil woman like its carrier. The knife is gone after few repeats of that name. Now Miranda sees it laying calmly next to the candles, which are burning with might, filling their glass jars with melted wax. - "Can you...stop this already? I'm tired." - for a split second Mia allows herself to show mercy, her heart beating irregularly at the view of tears running down her informal lover's face. Then she remembers herself and her needs. Full control over the woman, who controls everyone.

"Not before you show me your wings, pretty bird." - it is a command. Mixed with fake love. Mia is one of very few people Miranda has allowed to know about her great weakness. It's satirical - how her strongest and most recognisable ability, her glorious dark wings, ten at the count, are also the thing able to force her to throw up from pain, which she usually doesn't even feel. Although Miranda hasn't really been thinking about her mistake of sharing this knowledge with Mia. Until now, since she's forcing it versus her. Yet, she can't bring herself to be disobedient.

A loud sound, awfully familiar to bones cracking, echoes through the room, soon filing it to the brim. Mia watches in interest as Miranda's back wrinkles to the point of breaking skin, pouring more blood to the already weird looking piece of dark art on it. Few seconds later and her curious eyes meet up with tons of tar black feathers, exploding out of the open wounds. Mia takes a step back as the wings, strongly resembling the ones of a crow, tend to grow quite large in size. It's fascinating, the unusual nature of the blonde woman laying helpless on the bed. It's exciting to play with it, to experiment, to pull and twist until you get a reaction out of her. Mia doesn't stop the new waves of torture upon Miranda until she cries out again, few broken feathers spreading around the floor.

"Don't tell me you can't endure a little pain, Miri?" - her voice is more than just mocking. She enjoys the show before her like an actual spectacle in a circle, with the bonus that she's the one deciding the presented tricks. - "I  thought you said this could be arousing for you?" - a memory pops up inside her mind. In the heat of passioned rolling in the sheets Miranda declared her liking to showing her true nature in bed. Just thinking how many times she came that night while Mia stimulated her additionally is outrageous. So long ago, the brunette's principals have changed.

"Only when you're gentle." - Miranda hisses back in response, her own mind wandering in the same shared memory. All she feels now is pain, not even the good type of pain she doesn't mind receiving from time to time. This is a lot, much more than the usual toughness between them. Mia roots out another large feather, gently caressing her cheek before tossing it to the ground. - "...you're anything but that, Mia."

"Please, 'gentle' stopped working for you long ago." - Miranda silence herself by biting her lip. Mia's words are not entirely false, but that gentleness she's talking about the blonde interprets like a way of distance between the two of them. A relationship that started with innocent glares and small love incidents, such as touching hands or bumping into eachother, has now formed into a circle of hate and desire, completely built on lies and difficulties.   - "Tell me if I lift your robes and allow myself to explore will I find you already soaked, love?" - Mia speaks with confidence. Instead of keeping to her words, however, her hand moves to the nightstand, from where she swiftly grabs a green coloured candle. The scent is intoxicating. - "Or should I try harder to get you in the mood?"

"Mia, stop this, stop it, Mia-" - there's a hint of panic in Miranda's voice, her eyes so focused on the woman beside her they might count as unmovable. She gasps as Mia uses one hand to spreads her large wings to a maximum. The other brings the candy impossibly close, allowing the blonde woman to acknowledge the heat of the flame. - "You're mad, Mia, you truly are-"

"Yet you're the one trying to deny me?" - the brunette hisses - "When we both know you're mine." - all the previous pain doesn't compare to the dripping, hot wax hitting her back. It's torture. Her wings loose their glorious shape, they tilt down, as if surrounding themselves. Miranda's nails dig so hard into her palms, which forces yet another part of her body to bleed. Her mouth reminds open, eyes shut, anger forcing a dark line between her eyebrows. At least the wave is quick to wash off. That's until Mia grabs another candle and while pouring its melted wax all over her wounded back she begins to whisper in her ears again. - "I love you, Miranda, I love you so much.."

These words. That poisonous feeling.

I love you.

How can love hurt this badly?

.

.

.

"Mommy?" - a different voice echoes through Miranda's head. This one is sweet, innocent, devoid of evilness and painful ideas. It belongs to a child, she's certain. She blinks, droplets of salty tears are now evaporating from her cheeks and finally she allows herself to relax. A warm feeling explodes inside her chest, her arms trembling as she tries to lift them. The room around her, although entirely changed, remains dark. The world has shifted and she finds herself in another timeline, long forgetting. One that shouldn't be alive. In which Eva shouldn't be alive, yet there she stands - calmly laying in her bed, covered in every blanket Miranda could find in her tiny house. - "mommy, are you okay?"

Her daughter calls out for her again. Then Miranda's whole attention falls on her. Every memory of Mia and her awful torture is gone by the second her child's tiny hand searches for her. The woman grabs it, however her face doesn't shines up with happiness as it should. Eva barely moves her upper limb, not to mention it happens with a painful groan. Then the reality hits her. Miranda hates to go through this again but she has to acknowledge it. Eva is dying. And judging by her state the sickness has taken the bigger part of her body and consciousness. She grips her daughter's hand, in hope to transfer the suffering to herself.

"Yes, I'm fine, little dove." - Miranda assures her, tenderly cupping her cheeks, thumbs brushing against her pale skin. Eva sighs, enjoying her mother's loving touch, while trying to ignore the burning feeling building up in her lungs. At some point it overflows and she begins to cough, strong and dry, she struggles to take a breath. Miranda's motherly instincts immediately kick in, helping her up and allowing her to sit straight. She rubs her back, reminding her to try and breathe through her nose. Finally Eva sucks in a flow of fresh air. However as this happens she bares her teeth and quickly places her palms together, under her chin. Thick clouds of blood begin to pour from between her dry lips and she struggles to collect it, allowing it to drip to her bedsheets. It's not surprising they are already stained from a similar recent events.

Miranda's nightmares are standing right in front of her again. Staring at her blue eyes with a relentless sharpness. Eva begins to cry. Her sobs mix with the rapid banging of her mother's hearts against her weak ribcage. The woman fears it might break it and her body as a whole. Unconsciously she lets go of her daughter's hand, glare still fixed to her crying expression. It's painful to watch her struggle and to be helpless. It's not her fault. She keeps on telling herself. She's not guilty. He is. But then again. The mother has to bear the burden of her child dying, doesn't she? The father is absent, which for their case is better. A mother must be strong, but when she find herself in ruins...what hope is left for the daughter? None.

"Mommy?" - a weak call.

"Yes, Eva?" - a forced reply.

"Do you love me?." - these words again. With Mia they felt like an obligation, with Eva they feel like an undone promise. Miranda would keep on loving her daughter, even if she turned into a walking corpse. She puts a hand on her shoulder, aiming to show her the support she needs. This action leaves her terrified as the girl screams in pain. Just a second is enough for the woman to realise her child's body is much weaker than it seems and even the softest touch can harm. More tears occupy Eva's eyes. - "I won't blame you if you stop...I won't blame you if you decide to love another daughter...after all it's too late for me, isn't it?"

"No, Eva, I'll always love you." - she declares, her arms shaking. She knows putting them anywhere around the girl is dangerous, but keeping them to herself seems selfish. Their eyes meet, the blue of the ocean seeking its twin in the sky again. It's a tragedy they're destined to never touch. That's why Miranda decides to keep her touch to herself. - "no matter what happens I'll be with you and I'll find a way for you to be with me." - a pause, filled with fear and more tears. A hopeless assurance. - "I promise you, little dove."

"Just us?" - lying to her is like cutting off her still growing wings, however given her sickness she's never ment to fly anyway. Miranda would be happy if Eva could become a bird. Like the crows they always feed on the windows. Oh to be one. Freedom is your best of friend. You can travel the world and not worry for a single thing. If you get lucky enough you'll even find yourself a group of winged friends. A family.

"Just us." - they both smile at eachother. Eva is calm enough to lay back down on her uncomfortable bed. Miranda on the other hand starts to pile her with different questions. If she's hungry, if she's thirsty, if she wants something, if she's sleepy, if she should just leave her alone... Eva shakes her head to each of them. Currently she only desires to break the massive clock responsible for the passing time all around the world and stay in this moment forever. The girl hates change. But surely she's changing. Change means death in a lot of interpretations. And her own...is just around the corner. She knows this is will hurt her mother - the only person able to show pure love. She can't risk that for the selfish act of pushing forward. She's ready to sacrifice time. Yet she's no god, neither is Miranda.

Eva begins to cough again. This time is worse. With every try for a full breath more and more liquid blood drips out of her mouth. It's suffocating. The panic is her mother's eyes is a sure sign this is her last struggle. Soon the girls body begins to shake. Miranda screams. The world goes even darker. When the woman finally allows herself to touch her , she regrets it immediately. Eva's body begins to rot, falling apart with every rushed caress. It's a nightmare, it's hell, it's death. The hour of her death. The clock can't be stopped. Miranda cannot bear it. That annoying yet familiar feeling of pure acid burning her throat overfills her and she wraps a hand at the base of her throat. She curse herself for running away, but something inside her tells her Eva understands well and doesn't judge.

Miranda's legs don't feel real as she sprints through her small house, then her home town, full of people that despise her, and finally they give up just as she enters a thick labyrinth of trees. She allows herself to rest against one, her chest falling up and down rapidly, as she's out breath. The group is wet and sticky, dirty and covered with dark dirt as she hits it hard. She pulls on her hair, threatening to rip it off completely. Her nails travel around her skin, guilty anger leaving behind red lines. She screams again and again to the point of vomiting and being dizzy. Then she begins to sob, hugging her knees tightly to her breasts. She's helpless yet again.

Then she sees something between the many dead looking trees. It's quickly recognisable. With thick fur, long straight legs, bulging eyes, and curved antlers, the deer is not difficult to spot. Every knowledge she has about this animal is proven to be wrong, because instead of running away in fear the glorious looking deer takes few steps forward. Soon enough it stands directly in front of Miranda. She thinks of it as blind, judging by the lack of colour in it's eyes. Her own oceans stare at it for a long time, until the animal decides to carefully lay down beside her. Miranda's breath hitches, not knowing what to expect from the wild life. Her lips slightly part and she breaks with her fear in order to shape a sentence.

"What do you want from me?" - what a familiar question.

*****

Reality's weight is heavier than expected. Miranda quietly groans once her eyelids twitch, triggered by her awakening. It's rare for her to dream,  though when it happens there's nothing special about it - just nightmares, mixed with old, depressing memories. It's exhausting really, even after so many years the back of her head is  still pulsating with dull pain, due to her consciousness getting overwhelmed. Few draining moments pass before she starts to acknowledge how the bedsheets are touching her, how the bigger part of your shared blanket is pulled and crushed from her fists, despite her ability to be unbothered by the cold.

Rays of sunlight force her eyes to snap open, rapidly sending panicked glares around the room. It's morning, early, calming melodies of singing birds outside are a sure sign of it. Miranda notices an open window, which she doesn't remember leaving like that before bed. It seems like most of her habits have been transformed to you and she's more than thankful. There's nothing more relaxing than taking a deep breath of clean, morning air. It helps with her nerves, especially now. A light breeze rolls in from outside, gently caressing her cheeks. Then she raises her numb hands, her thin fingers running across her skin, where they find wet drops of tears. How disgusting, how weak. The salty droplets are pure history once she brushes them gone with the back of her hands.

The blonde woman stays like frozen, eyes unfocused around the room. Despite her desire to be alone in such moments of weakness she easily senses your presence. Miranda shifts, her body following her head immediately after she turns to face you. She smiles, it's genuine. And there you are - sat silently beside her, fingers rubbing your chin while you look intensely at your phone, clearly reading something as your eyes are traveling up and down the screen. The woman notes it as unpleasant, judging by your slightly worried expression. You manage to sigh just before she moves impossibly close to you. There's no room for words or orders between the two of you. Miranda finds her position by shoving her head onto your chest, while you move to hands aside, giving her enough space to do so. Once settled, the woman almost purrs while you run careful fingers through her messy, but surprisingly not tangled hair.

"Good morning, Mira." - you voice out low enough not to startle her. Although you're still mainly focused on your phone, you can't stop yourself from looking down. She has her eyes close, nose buried somewhere near the collar of your shirt as she tries to breathe in your scent. Said shirt is not even yours, but you know very well she enjoys it when you decide to wear something from her own wardrobe, even if it's just for sleeping. - "Slept well?"

"What are you reading?" - Miranda completely ignores your question, clearly not showing interest in telling you about her nightmares. You let her be, scrolling to the top of the document you're putting your whole attention to. She jerks her head upwards, trying to steal a look as well. You bring your phone closer, purely for her comfort. She goes through the very first sentences and bites her lip. - "...you father."

"After so much waiting I finally receive a report about his current condition." - you take a pause, locking and tossing your phone aside. - "Only to be assured he's getting worse." - although it's rather hard for her to show empathy, she tries her best. Miranda hugs you tightly, gladly accepting your hands, which wrap uncomfortable around her back, triggering her but not enough to acknowledge it. - "they say  his heart is weak and they don't know... if he's going to make it this time."

With the ridiculous amount of money Miranda pays you, his hospital bills have been almost entirety paid, yet those doctors are still playing games with you. They never suggest a solution, just pills or more bad news, more complications. But can you even blame them? They probably are as clueless as you are. Even if you speed your way to graduating university and gaining a medical title, would you be even able to do something different than them? If your father is still alive, that is.

"You worry too much." - part of you gets mad at her comment, you even pull away when she tries to connect her lips with yours. A scoff is all you get before she places a kiss to your cheekbone. - "it's going to eat you alive, darling, you should stop."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" - you're not capable of helping. She's right as always, the helpless feeling is eating you alive. - "just pray for him?" - you've done that already. Gods are either deaf or ruthless. Perhaps both, because an answer, a blessing from them has always been absent.

"Believe in him, it's all you can do, isn't it?" - you can't decide if she's being satire or for real, yet you melt once she shifts again, somehow managing to sit straight in your lap. Her hands cups your cheeks and this time you allow her the kiss she's so eagerly searching for. Her lips ghost above yours, almost in a teasing manner, as she speaks again. - "...maybe... he'll happen upon a miracle."

Miranda's suggestion weirdly reminds you of your own 'miracle' - this job surely feels like a blessing. And the only God, who seems real, is your beloved blonde woman herself.

.

.

.

The scene around you is awfully comforting. Nice waves of warmth occupy your lower body, due to a soft blanket, placed carefully above your legs. The clock on the wall loudly announces it's almost lunch. Nobody is bothered, including you. You're sat on the large sofa in the living room, entirely immersed in your studies. Your attention span locked between textbooks and Miranda's soft voice, while she corrects or adds something to your private lesson. The television is on, however you don't find it distracting. It's only working to entertain Eva, who's a bit annoyed. Unable to escape from her mother's lap , she stays still while watching whatever movie plays in front of her. The poor girl hasn't been able to escape Miranda's embrace from early in the morning till now, as if the woman needs to be glued to her. It's strange for both you and Eva, but you choose not to address it since you both know Miranda expresses her love differently. From time to time she brushes a tender hand through the girl's golden hair, as If to assure herself Eva's real.

In between this proximity, though the blonde woman has decided to multitask. And by that she means torturing you. It's not something bad, really, but forcing you cover a large amount of study material, while correcting you on every second sentence or adding more and more information for you to remember, is surely a lot more than you usually do to prepare for upcoming exams. At least she's a master in her craft, her given details are a free gift you gladly accept. It would be a nice study session if your mind wasn't so unfocused.

"You're not paying enough attention." - her sharp comment pulls you out of a trance, which you fail to realise you've gotten yourself into. Her hand lands on your shoulder. You're sure it's mentioned to comfort you, but her action only brings you more stress. - "We've covered this material already and the questions are not hard, darling, come on." - she taps on your open exam book. She's correct. Closed questions as the current, with given answers to choose the right one from are a child's play. Yet when you voice out your opinion, Miranda gives you a pitiful look. - "Wrong again."

"Fucking bullshit..." - you curse out, starting out loud but then lowering the volume as you're reminded of Eva's presence.

"Language." - like the serious  mother she is Miranda gives you a warning, accompanied by a mean glare. You swear one day her dark blue eyes are going to cut out holes in your skin. Until then her nails might do the job instead. As if to punish you she digs them into your shoulder, sighing. You roll your eyes at her next comment. - "There's no need to be vulgar."

"Sorry..." - you whisper out. Miranda is not the one to tolerate casual cursing around her house. You've almost never heard her voice out some herself. Expect when she's in bed with you but that's another story you've both decided not to talk about. You quickly find the problem in the current situation. Eva shouldn't be exposed to your out of place words, the blonde woman aims to show you this by tilting her head towards the girl. - "You've heard nothing, Eva."

"Heard what now?" - and just like that Miranda's daughter snaps out of her careful observation of the movie and turns to you. A large smile appears on your lips, while Miranda only scoffs. Of course the girl can't be even bothered to pay any attention to the happening around her, to the things, which don't concern her.

"Love that kid." - you laugh out, deciding it's finally time for a break. Miranda on the other side stops you just before you can manage to close your textbooks and stand up. The corner of her lips are slightly stretched downwards, her eyebrows furrowed as she's clearly not pleased. When she reopens your textbooks you realise it's not because of her daughter hearing bad words, but purely because of your awful performance with the easiest of tests. You decide to be honest with her, praying she'll understand. - "I'm getting tired of studying, can we take a break, Mira?" - you don't forget to add an additional 'please' just to increase your chances. 

"You've achieved nothing today." - Rude. You swallow, not having the energy to defend yourself. - "I don't understand what's stopping you from focusing?" - this makes you bite your lower lip, turning your head to a side. Escaping her burning eyes.

"Miranda, I can't just forget about- " - you're forced to stop, sensing an incoming voice crack. Emotions are a cruel thing. Even without the clear vision of your father suffering alone, imagining him it's enough to make your throat dry. You take a deep breath in, trying to form an argument. Any trace of anger is gone from her face once you collect enough courage to look at her. - "Tell me how can I focus when my father is out there, dying alone, and I can't do anything to help him?"

"Darling, I told you to not-"

"Put yourself in my shoes." - your slightly louder tone catches even Eva's attention, who gives you a bored glare.  - "it's not endurable to even imagine the pain in your body while you watch your only family die, because you're simply not enough to help.!" - with this you manage to gag her completely. A line is even crossed, as Miranda wraps a hand around her throat, her other one pulling Eva closer. The little girl obtains a worried expression and you swallow, realising you've said too much of your worries. - "...at least try to understand."

For the first time you're given an amazing example of judgement. Both mother and daughter swiftly turn to you, with no room for consideration. Two dark bullets bang against your chest, forcing you swallow a painful lump in your throat. This thread is minimal since it's quickly followed by two more angry eyes, lighter in color but just as fierce. It's a curious abnormality. After few seconds the inseparable family members give eachother a look, mutually deciding to not address the topic or you angry outburst. Perhaps you've hit a nerve, completely unaware of its existence. Miranda leans to whisper in Eva's ear, which leads the girl to change sitting positions - crawling out of her mother's lap, allowing her to eventually move freely. Which she does. The blonde woman stands up, covered in silence, then she extends an arm, giving you little to no time to consider taking it.

Miranda walks rapidly as always. She easily guides you, or more like drags you behind her as you fail to catch up fast enough, through the mansion. Lucky for you this home of many rooms and corridors has turned to a familiarity, so you quickly understand you're being lead to the library. You find yourself surrounded by many bookshelves, piled up with more study materials, just as the echoing sound of heels hitting clear flooring disappears. Even with large, open windows, devoid of curtains - big part, combined with many distant edges, of the room remains chillingly dark. At least it's quiet. You manage to hear Miranda murmuring about a better atmosphere for studying. Your hands curl up and tighten in fists.

But then you get surprised. Instead of rushing you into more memorising, the blonde woman simply tosses your textbooks to an empty table and settles down on the puffy sofa opposite of the paper screen you use on casual movie nights. Her hand lifts up to take most of her forehead as she sighs with closed eyes. You stay frozen in place, unable to complete the puzzle. Miranda is yet again acting out those strange scenes, which leave you more than confused. This time however the usual headache is missing and you're somehow calm. An unexpected laughter startles you,  thought you're more interested in what exactly Miranda is finding funny.

"Darling, I understand you more than well... that's why I brought you here." - her alluring voice settles to almost whispering in the second part of her sentence. Miranda lifts up her head, chin proudly pointing at you while she pats a seat next to her, silently inviting you to sit. Her perfect set of white teeth is appealing. - "come to me, little deer."

"Look...Mira..." - you start unsurely, using her own cards against her by calling her by the chosen nickname - "I'm sorry for... reacting in such a way, but my head is truly a mess right now and I can't just ignore everything, you know?" - the woman nods, severely happy as you take a step in her direction.

"I know, darling." - Miranda is quick to spread out her arms  once you get close enough to bend down and wrap yourself in her embrace. The sweet scent of her perfume is one reason for you head to be shoved in the crook of her neck. - "You can tell me more, I'm all ears."

"It's so unfair." - you fiercely point out, reminding yourself that Miranda is not a stress doll and the way you're starting to squeeze her, out of self anger, shouldn't be allowed. You decide to keep yourself locked in the right hug, but slowly move to a side so you can actually take a position of sitting next to her. - "I've carried so much guilt for the passing of my mother, but it seems like that alone...is not enough to satisfy death." - you bare your teeth - "Why should I feel equally guilty and useless over matters I can't control?"

"It's not your fault." - you allow the blonde woman to put you in an angle, where your head is rested somewhere between her shoulder and chest. You curl up next to her, covering yourself in her warmth and comfort. - "It never was and It will never be." - her long fingers, strangely not covered in their usual metal accessories, trace the path of your jawline. - "Your father loves you...I'm sure your mother did as well."

"They won't save him." - you declare, noticing how your chin slightly shakes, while hot tears gather into your eyes. - "I... won't be able to save him."

"I believe in you." - it would be a crime to say her touch isn't the most comforting feeling in the world. She's careful and sweet, as if she's caressing a baby. Her fingertips brush loosen strands of hair behind your ear, then moving on to cup your cheeks. These actions are almost enough to make you believe as well. Yet your stubbornness, or in this case self doubt, kicks in.

"Miranda." - short but emotionally charged warning. Stopping the discussion here would be nice, since you don't want to be crying your eyes out in front of her.

"Darling." - her sharp response is never too late. You feel burning pressure on your chin. You lift your head up to meet her eyes, strictly following the demands of her fingers. - "I'll tell you this one time - the more you doubt yourself, the more I'm going to push you to success."

The clear declaration, presented as non physical contract,  can be easily spotted in action. Taking her eagerness for you to cover most of this semester's material from today for example. To think of it now, her interest in your studies increased surprisingly fast since this morning, when you received the not so well accepted news about your father and when you began to feel absolutely miserable, which continued for most of the day and....oh. Oh, this woman.

"He's everything I've got." - a world without him would be hell. You can't think of more lovable and understand person, who's always there when you need them, who laughs and cries with you, who supports you in both success and failure, who loves you. Miranda comes awfully close, but... - "Loosing him will leave me alone." - your eyes connect with hers - "I hate to be alone, Miranda."

"My own father died when I was pretty young, soon the same faith followed my mother." - she hums her words out, tapping unable to stay at one place fingers along the edge of the sofa. - "I've been alone for most of my life - it was rather difficult, I had to learn how to take care of myself...to cook, work, survive at last, because at some point I had literally nothing to my name." - it's hard to imagine the filthy rich Miranda struggling with...well anything really. Her story shows exactly how put together she is, and how much she's not really sharing with others.  - "I gave birth alone too, Eva almost wiped me out of existence that day." - although she says it with laughter, you can't miss the way she covers her long healed stomach with one hand, perhaps being too overwhelmed with hurtful memories.

"I'm sorry you had to..." - you suck in a breath, suddenly feeling unsure about how to comfort her. All you can think of is hugging her so tightly, it might happen to be risky for her lungs if you decide to squeeze a little more. - "Life has been unfair to you too, I'm so-"

"Sweet darling, I desire no pity." - she gently grabs your face in soft hands, smiling down at you. Suddenly her lap begins to look much more inviting and comfortable than the sofa itself. If it weren't for your composed tolerance, you would be all over her in a matter of seconds. - "I'm telling you this because I want you to know." - she leans in closer, noses brushing together while her lips ghost over yours. - "Whatever is to happen...you don't have to be alone."

But of course, the universe works in abnormal way. If it was destined for your father to descend with the sun, Miranda will bring less light but equal love with the moon. Is it greedy to desire both at the same time, thought? Is it possible?

"Why are we here, Mira?" - your every instinct is screaming at you to kiss her. Yet your mind keeps on wondering why did she drag you into the library if not for studying?

"I do need to apologise for not letting you express your worries this morning." - you blink, only know realising she has used solitary and comfort as a weapon, in order to make you speak your mind. And you don't even feel angry.  - "I admit I wasn't in my best condition to listen, but neglecting your problems was wrong." - she quickly explains that it became clear to her when you couldn't keep up with your normal focus. - "I didn't want to force you into this matter in front of Eva, however, that's why I I chose the library."

Kissing her now feels right, kissing her now it's a need. You don't try to be gentle or patient. You claim her lips with lust and desperation, she gasps in your mouth, never to refuse you, though. She whispers out your name between millions of kisses, when you move to pay attention to her jaw and neck she even sighs above you, sending a burning thrill to every cell in your body. You want to keep her, have her, consume her, rip off her skin in search for her soul - which you desire to embrace. You know this is impossible, but you're also certain you would never stop trying. Miranda bites her lower lip as your fingers start exploring the skin underneath her shirt, her own hands deep in roots of your hair while she presses your head even further into her neck, enjoying how short of breath you are. Just when you're about to unclip her bra behind her back she suddenly jerks and pushes you off herself, with awful strength. You give her a confused look to which she doesn't respond. All she does is try to fix her clothes, completely ignoring you. You understand her actions soon enough, because the door swings open unexpectedly, at least for you.

"Mommy, your phone!" - Eva rushes to Miranda,  passing by you with ease, as if you don't exist. The blonde woman gives a kind smile to her daughter before taking the device  out of her small, but extremely careful hands. The sudden appearance of the girl is born because of someone calling Miranda. All three of you are confused by the unnamed number, but she picks up anyway.

The phone call is short, yet judging by Miranda's straight face and serious, bossy voice, you can take a hint it's something professional. In the few minutes of communication, the blonde woman barely speaks up, mainly focusing on the information spilling from the other side of the phone. At the end of it , she only asks - 'later today?" , then nods with a bored face. When she hangs up,  Miranda is not surprised to find you and Eva, both waiting to hear about the happening. However, her gaze falls only on you.

"You have won me another group meeting, darling." - you're quickly reminded of your email, which lead to Miranda having many propositions from different companies to work with. Perhaps this will be her lucky one. - "They didn't even leave room for wondering. I have to get ready."

.

.

.

Knocking on Miranda's bedroom door feels out of place. The action sets you back to time when you used be a stranger with this chamber, with this family and mainly - the woman occupying your mind. Now it's different, you're different. Her response is just a hum, letting you know it's okay to come in. You don't wait for a second confirmation. You poke your head inside the room, searching for said blonde woman inside of it. - "It has been almost two hours, you sure you won't be late?"

Strangely you fail to spot her immediately. Signs of her presence are all over the place, some so noticeable they might actually poke your eyes. Starting with her sweet perfume wandering in invisible waves in the air and ending with a pile of rejected clothes from her wardrobe, failed attempts for an outfit. Her open jewelry boxes on the bed work against her as well. Finally you notice few pairs of entirely new heels, which even get you wondering when did she manage to buy them, yet again devoid of use. You're not fast enough to check the bathroom, since the bright lighting from inside quickly washes off and Miranda runs out with a genuine smile.

"I'm ready, darling." - she says, stopping in the centre of the room, as if standing on a podium. - "What do you think?"

You find yourself stunned. Her clothes of choice are incredibly fitting, you're burned with the sense of her beauty. Slender and shapely, yet elegant as always Miranda stands before you in a tailored black suit, the pants hugging her hips tightly, but not uncomfortably by all means,and long legs while the jacket accentuates her figure, the cut emphasizing her waist, nicely accentuating her curves. The crisp white shirt underneath is perfectly buttoned up, a subtle hint of cleavage showing. Her confident stance and commanding aura only add to her stunning presence. It's enough to take your breath away. The woman's long hair is styled in a sleek and sophisticated slick-back hairstyle. The blonde strands are pulled back from her face, allowing her stunning features to shine through. She's not the keenest on makeup, but she has done enough to contour the rich blue colour of her eyes. You allow yourself to start using your lungs normally again once she takes a step further to you, strong metal heel hitting the floor as she does.

"Can you stay home?" - you blurt out, suddenly and without thinking, allowing your rapidly beating heart to make a decision instead of your actual brain. You have to put your hands behind your back, just to stop them from connecting with her.

"Are you joking?" - Miranda asks, worried. She's quick as a flash while turning to her oversized mirror, observing herself. - "I can't look that bad,..right?"

"No! No, you look good, Mira, I promise you." - you voice out, pure excitement rolling off your tongue, as you try to stay composed and not ask for her hand in marriage on the spot. If that would be enough to describe how alluring she actually looked. After all, you dare not stray from your position. - "I'm just not used to seeing you...in a suit, that is."

"Well I don't usually wear one." - she replies with honesty, bringing up her hands to fix dangling, shiny earrings. Despite her addiction for jewelry, currently Miranda's body is awfully limited from said expensive metal accessories. - "But I was informed the group I am to meet will be restricted to one gender only." - she scoffs, rolling her yes. Then she points at the black suit covering her. - "In a room full of men, I aim to fit, not stand out."

You perfectly understand her desire to be less noticeable between her despised men, her hatred towards them is normal, yet it never fails to make you laugh. Now, however, you can't miss the opportunity to tease her.

"No pretty girls to impress, Miranda?" - she turns her head towards you, with a lifted eyebrow. You greet her with a smirk. Although she's rather covered in surprise, she cunningly returns the favour.

"The one pretty girl I want is already in front of me." - you bite your lower lip. Having her confirming her attraction for you is enough to satisfy your every need. Perhaps the only thing missing is her skin against yours, but you know you're going to have to wait for that. - "And I'm certain she's more than just impressed, isn't she?"

Yes, you will definitely struggle while waiting for her to get back home.

*****

It has been one boring, long drive. And when followed by an even more dull meeting you can really loose any social battery. It's what Miranda is currently experiencing, what she's enduring. Another useless team, another hour wasted in observing documents and listening to fake promises for success. Her sparkle of interest is long forgotten about, not like these men were able to reach it anyway. She's yet to find something that pulls you in like her previous company. Miranda still wonders how The connections convinced her to share her undying ideas and professionalism. Perhaps it was the fact that Mia instructed her to everything, perhaps she was too drunk in hope for the rebirth of her daughter. Many different factors, which are sadly missing in her current situation.

Her ears transform into victims of a symphony of annoyance, as the three men trying to over talk themselves begin to increase their voice volumes. Even the angry tapping of her fingers along the curved, metal table is not hearable anymore. She thinks it's funny, how the table is bended in a circle to symbolise equality, yet some members of the group haven't spoken a word since the beginning, not because they don't want to,but because others don't allow it. Miranda's despair overflows her mind and she rolls her eyes with irritation. Two men have been arguing for ten minutes straight and finding a solution between themselves is a hard task, it seems. Just when she's about to let out yet another forced sigh, her phone vibrates with a notification. Surely, more interesting than the happening.

Miranda gives her screen a sharp glare, only for her shoulders to suddenly roll backwards as she carefully reads your name in her mind a few times, just to make sure you're actually texting her. An unexpected saviour. She opens your shared chat without second thoughts. Your messages shines like gold in a dark mine.

I lied.

This one confuses her, though few new ones follow immediately after.

You looked more than simply good, Miranda.

The usage of her full name thrills her. She looks down at herself in order to be reminded of the fancy suit she's wearing. She smiles upon realising the wonders it has done to you alone. Her eyes wander up to check the time. Judging by the already late hour, her daughters must be asleep in bed, which allows her beloved babysitter some time for herself...and her thoughts. Miranda is pleased she's the one to cross your mind. After a little bit of rethinking, she decides to tease.

It's a pity I wasn't good enough for you to force me to stay home. It would have been for the better.

Miranda clearly remembers the path of desire in your eyes from earlier. She curses herself for not acknowledging it then. Your response is a little delayed, but eventually it pops up on her screen. She tries her best to stop the edges of her lips from curling up, not wanting unwanted attention falling on her.

You looked good enough for me to consume. And worship.

Before her thumbs can stretch up to tap on the small keyboard another message makes it's presence clear.

I can't stop thinking about you, Mira. When are you coming home?

You are getting obsessed, darling.

Your eagerness might just make her jump out of her seat and drive home fast enough to catch up before you can go to sleep. Not surprisingly your response comes with unbelievable speed, but Miranda's eyes can even move to read it , she detects her name being spoken. Someone actually voices it out a few more times, which causes her to turn off her phone and turn to that direction.

A man stands opposite of her, trying his best to look tall and mighty. His see through impatience fails him. One single glare from beneath Miranda's eyelashes is enough to break his fake wall of confidence. Choosing to cooperate, however, she lazily rolls a wrist in the air, guiding him into speaking. After a quick clearing of his throat, he does it, voice surprisingly steady.

"As I was saying, in order for both goals to be reached,..and for this meeting to has an actual good end.." - he adds with a murmur, to which Miranda doesn't react. At least not visible, but she makes a mind note of agreement. - "We also need details and information." - the man's hand lands on top of a document folder, rested on the round table, forcing out an unnecessary tud. - "So far we've got nothing."

Before Miranda can even think of answering, another voice joins the conversation. Softer, but much more unsure.

"Ah, what my colleague is trying to say is that..." - she makes a grimace when he blinks with frustration, as if praying for the right words to come. - "We were promised inhuman opportunities, however instead of revealing them you've only stayed silent,.. ma'am."

"Am I obligated to show an example?" - Miranda hums out, getting a bit annoyed. She's sensing doubt... it's unfamiliar to her, yet she can't expect the blind respect and devotion she once received.

"You claim to be an immortal!" - a third man interrupts with a rather loud scoff. She closes her eyes, gathering patience, clearly overwhelmed by the fact that her consumption turned out to be true. - "With your... promised abilities, you're closer to gods than humans." - he sucks in a breath, chin high as the sky. - "So why seek an alliance with us.?"

Miranda chooses to think all these meetings were purely born, because the kind words you put into that original email. But she has never mentioned to you about the existence of a second one, going in much further detail about Miranda's research and skills. She knows for a facts that's the only thing pushing her forward to her final goal. While they can't even be bothered to read your email to the end, she deeply appropriates it.

"Your statement is correct - if I were a god, I wouldn't be here." - she leans forward, placing her elbows on the table, sighing deeply. - "I'd like to cut the chase here. From my own understanding, you're not interested in anything else but what power I possess." - she can only imagine them drooling over the smallest piece of her DNA for experimenting.

"If your strength is what you claim it to be, we can increase it to a maximum and create a new era for humanity-"

"Of course you will." - a forced face shines through her mask of ignorance. How can she forget about the never changing human nature. Her shoulders are rolled back, adding more straightness to her posture. - "I've lived through both world wars, and many more." - Miranda speaks casually, as if those blood drenched events happened just yesterday. Her words force some of the men to share confused words. - "It's curious, you make sure to remember dates and deaths, however you don't learn from history." - a pause. - "And now you think of creating another version of the super soldiers you've craved for years."

"...We're destined for evolution." - the room falls silent for a while. Until Miranda shatters it with a heavy hand.

"You can ruin the world all over again, I'm certain it won't bother me." - she aims to make it clear - even if she's not exactly a god as they think, she's not on their level neither. At the end she'd be the one to survive. - "I have the following preposition - instead of focusing on the people you're going to ascend to your future paradise, you can help the ones you're going to leave behind." - she allows herself to look at almost every unfamiliar face, gaining confidence as she sees hints of consideration. - "Saving people isn't exactly what I do normally, however currently I prefer it." - Miranda doesn't feel obliged to share details of who exactly she's trying to help. Her personal life has nothing to do with these people. - "It's part of my own deal."

The men are filled with hesitation. She holds every single one under a sharp glare. Then the first one, who decided to start a conversation with her, swallows and turns to her.

"We'll listen to you." - with that she's pleased. .

.

.

Unexpectedly the meeting ends well. A deal is made. A contract has been signed. With some additions, for which she's happy noone questioned or denied. Her struggles finally come to an end. And by all means she wishes to go home and have a very nice visit with her bed. And you, of course. As you cross her tired out mind, Miranda quickly pulls out her neglected phone out. Few drops of now starting rain falling on its smooth screen. Miranda rushes to a spot, with the intention to hide from the sky. Can't risk to loose her well deserved cigarette after this exhausting interaction.

The hour is quite late. She mentally notes, while dragging another puff from the cigarette, covering her face in a veil of smoke. She hates to drive during night time, it's unsettling, even for her. She starts to wonder if you're still awake, yet calling you doesn't do it for her, since it would be her last wish to wake you up just to be assured you were sleeping. She unlocks her phone just as a men, familiar from the already finished meeting, walks rapidly past her. The rain is gaining rage, mindlessly hitting the ground with grand droplets. He doesn't look at her, how out of manners. Miranda can't say she's bothered, there's more time for her attention to fix upon the message from before, which she couldn't read on the spot. Once it properly crosses her dark eyes, she smiles, the butt of her cigarette hitting the pavement.

You're an obsession I've already welcomed.

*****

Miranda happens to find her bedroom completely empty. Her bed - devoid of warmth. The room itself - dark and lonely. It's not to her liking, it's triggering her. Because something is clearly missing. You are missing. And she can't even lie to herself, let alone anyone else, that it's way too uncomfortable for her. After a swift second observation, as if her eyes are even able to betray her, she turns on her heel - straight to your own bedroom. She supposes that's the only other place you would be. Her strange ability to track anyone in the near radius confirms it. She's only left to wonder why exactly have you decided to choose your funny sized, compared to hers, bed.

A nice ray of calmness runs through her face once she locks eyes with your sleeping self. Body curled up in soft sheets you look more than cozy. Miranda takes few steps further to your bed. She allows herself to observe you long enough for her chest to tighten. And perhaps for her inner voice to whisper she's being a bit creepy, again...Then she makes up her mind. Miranda tries her best to be dead silent while undressing, clothes too itchy already, too irritating. The jacket from nice fabric hits the floor first. Too tired to care for her outfit getting dirty, she finds no problem with throwing her black pants on top of it too. After removing her bra  as well, she remains only covered by her white shirt. Good enough to mimic pyjamas.

Your bed is certainly less large than her own. She doesn't think it's meant for the both of you. Yet Miranda doesn't face much of an obstacle snuggling nicely behind you. Her long arms stretch out, under the covers, in order to wrap around your waist and pull you closer. She leans into you, her chest pressing to your back, while she shoves her face to the back of your neck. Finally she can feel relaxed. With Mia she never got to enjoy cuddling, for which she has a soft spot, and that lead her to be outrageously touch started. It's not something you can easily get out of her as information, but the way she can't even stops herself from tracing your skin with her nails is enough of a sign. But she overdoses it, since you twitch a few time in your sleep, before slowly opening an eye. Being a light sleeper is another thing you've inherited from her, it seems.

"Mm..what-..." - you murmur out, only to feel a soft kiss, carefully placed on your nape. If the fact that this mansion is in the middle of nowhere was unknown to you, fear from someone breaking in would definitely be present. But you know better. There's only one person who would sneak up on you like that, and you don't seem to mind it.

"I wasn't aiming to wake you up, darling." - Miranda whispers, her hands getting braver and wandering beneath your shirt. She often does this, something about holding you as close as possible. There's a hint of guilt in her voice, because truly this wasn't her intention. A shiver turns down your spine when her lips move up to the shell of your ear, breath hotter than ever. Then she decides to transfer the guilt to you. - "But you weren't in our bed."

"You know I can't sleep without you." - in your defense you did try, but her...your shared bed is just too big for you to be lying there alone. Plus if she's the one with the habit to hold, you enjoy being held , especially in her embrace, so naturally after so many nights of that exact motion - you needed to change the area. You lazily start to turn around, she backs away in order to give you enough space. There's no room for wasting time once you're able to face her. She reaches out first, locking her lips with yours, however you, fully awake now, put much more effort into the kiss. Her hands move to your back, nails digging in your shoulder blades, while your own push her shoulders down, until you shift in such position that has her pinned beneath you. - "I'm glad you're finally home." - you say in between heated kissing, then you add. - "How was your meeting?"

"It's safe to say I've found what I was searching for." - her eyebrow lifts in curiosity as you extend a hand to your nightstand, only to light up a lamp after a bit of search for the button. Now you can see her clearly. - "We just need a bit more time for preparation, before officially starting." - she watches carefully while you adjust yourself to a sitting position, stranding her lower stomach and hips, with your own. Her face lights up when she remembers something. - "Oh, and darling, I wanted to tell you-"

"Respectfully, I would love to listen to you all night, Miranda." - you voice out, eyes locked at her body now instead of her face, she surely looks beautiful under you. - "and don't get me wrong, I'm very happy for you." - you begin to chew on your lip, fingers practically trembling when you bring them to the collar of her shirt, eager to yank it off. - "but I've been waiting for more than I can endure and..." - you pull on the fabric, close to loosing your control. Your eyes lift up to meet hers. - "Can I?"

"All yours, darling." - you're thankful she understands your needs, hearing her consent is a blessing to your ears. You decide to take your sweet time. Your fingers work slowly, unbuttoning her shirt with ease. And just a few seconds later you brush the now open and two sided shirt aside, exposing her bare chest to you. She's breathtaking as always. The observation of her body takes more of your time and attention than usual. Beneath the weak lighting her skin looks extremely inviting. You fear your lower lip might bleed out from the pressure your teeth force on it, once you gain enough consciousness to start touching her properly. Your hands carefully press to her stomach, then you move them to a side, grabbing her waist. Lifting them is pleasant, you get to feel her ribcage and count every single bone there, before you stop at her breasts. Their size is perfect for you since they fit amazingly well into your palms. As you cup them, you can't stop yourself from teasing her a little, just few brushes of your thumbs against her nipples are enough to harden them. It thrills you to the core. Soon your hands find themselves around her throat, which forces her head to be thrown back, and you squeeze. A cold shiver runs down her body, one which even you can feel, combined with a soft gasp from between her lips. How vulnerable she looks right now, all for you. Miranda being so casually yours is alarming and thrilling at the same time. At least she trusts you enough to allow all of this. Only if she knew what exactly runs through your head when she submits herself so easily. Part of you if convinced she knows, because it's Miranda after all.

"Every time, and I mean every fucking time, when we get intimate I'm divided in two." - she hums, not minding it when your fingers lift to press against her lips - in order to silence her for a while and enjoy their softness. - "For some reason I overflow with greedy rage, I want to be mean and hurtful, because a voice in my head is constantly whispering about you deserving it. I don't understand it." - her eyebrows twist in so much confusion and you almost panic, having said too much, but you contain yourself. A bit forced - you continue. - "Then I-...change...I become eager to please you, to make you feel good, show you love and care, be as gentle as I possibly can and... it's what I've told you many times - I just want to treat you right. Like it should be." - words equally overwhelm  and run away from you. Even you start to wonder what exactly you're trying to tell her. All you know it's important, and it's coming from somewhere deep inside of you. The anxious beats of your heart are an easy confirmation. - "Do you think...that's normal, Miranda? I'm obsessed, devoted, ready to worship, but at the same time I feel so-"

"Show me your yearning, precious darling." - Miranda finds the the power to yank you down at her, kissing you with might. Once you loose yourself into her again, she runs her nails down your back, forcing it to form a slight arch. If this continues you're certain you'll be both ruined, yet noone seems to care. Your head fills with rushing blood and in an attempt to loosen the pressure, you shift down to her neck, placing eager open-mouthed kisses, which quickly turn into bites. Miranda holds in a moan, clearly enjoying the roughness you can bring out. Then she curls up a finger under your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. - "I wish to know how it feels like."

Miranda plays with you a bit too much. But that's okay, you love her games. You're not certain what possesses you to show your claim on her out of a sudden, since she's the one to normally leave you covered in marks. Yet both of you groan in pleasure as you begin to descend down her body, lips softly pressing against smooth skin, before nibbling enough for the flesh to redden. On her part, Miranda considers your actions reasonable and she eagerly pushes your head even lower. After a quick awkward adjustment, in order for you to get more space while freezing between her legs, you look up to her. Your almost sure bet of Miranda already glaring down at you doesn't fail. Like usual, her method of silencing moans is a long, curled finger in between her teeth. Although she has been rather quiet for tonight, not like you've started anything yet. A rushed brush through your hair symbolizes her way of convincing you to continue. You can easily remove her underwear and dive into her, but you've never been so close to actually going down on her. Of course you plan on mimicking everything she does, yet you won't be able to feel satisfied with just that. So you wait, fingers hooked at both sides of her panties, while the realisation slowly hits her. For once you're happy she's so good at reading your mind, or maybe you've just gotten too close...

"People do this differently, darling." - Miranda starts to explain, her hand caressing your cheek. You lean into her touch without much of a thought. She then proceeds to lift her upper body up, pressing her back against the bed's headboard. - "But you don't care about other people, do you?" - the smirk on her face is awfully sinful. - "You only want to know what I  like?" - even if her rough tone hints for her sentence to be a formal declaration, you catch up with the small particles for a question.

"Can't please you if you don't show me how." - hasn't it always been like that? You always relying on her guidance. Miranda lets out a hum, oddly resembling a purr. You decide it's finally time to get rid of her underwear, leaving her with only the unbuttoned shirt, which only stays on her back because of the long sleeves. Yet it remains mainly useless, as its idea of coverage is not completed.

"Slowly, I like to enjoy it." - for you is a command, filled with need, for her is a selfish act. Her many times with Mia had a very odd pattern - she was either overstimulated or completely denied, sometimes there was just nothing, just pain, which the other women has decided Miranda deserves. She never got to enjoy her given orgasms. - "Be as messy as you like, I don't mind it." - with that she parts her legs for you, forcing you to swallow. - "Just don't tease...much."

She's bare for your shaking eyes, smooth and soft. When you part her with the help of your fingers, you also note she's aroused by the situation, since you find her clearly glistering. Your head is a spinning mess, while your teeth do your best to distract you by biting the inside of your cheek. Then all reason is throw out of the window. You launch your mouth on her like it's the last thing you'll ever do. She hums, partly in protest, partly in pleasure. It's wrong and you know it, she doesn't directly do this. Miranda always prepares you more than enough - red bites on your thighs, slow sensational licks to your throbbing core until she's satisfied enough to eat her meal. Distracted by your own overthinking, you don't realise how you slowly begin to shift away, thankfully your girlfriend is not known for patience and rushes to bring you back to her.

"Don't make me beg." - Miranda whispers - "I need you."

Perhaps that's the boost, which was till now missing. You concentrate enough, ignoring the captivating energy rushing through your veins and forcing your heart to beat irregularly. This time you approach her with a slow lick, though large enough to almost cover her whole. The flat of your tongue is glued to her wetness. Miranda tastes even better from when you lick her off your fingers, it's a sweet mixture of sourness. Adding your saliva makes a great combination. Soon the promised mess from earlier comes to life. You drag your so far calm tongue along her slit, then further up, it moves perfectly smooth between her lower lips. When you reach her clit, a moan slips from her vocal cords, reminding you of her sensitivity. The bundle of nerves is practically throbbing with need as you take it into your mouth. You attack it with lazy, painfully slow licks while looking up to Miranda. Her nails are implying constant torture to the sheets beneath her, but overall she's strangely composed. Not being able to satisfy her is not to your liking.

"You're so addictive." - You praise her loudly, earning a small, but warm smile. Helping yourself with strong hands, you press her spread hips to the mattress while occupying her with hot open-mouthed kisses. - "So lethally beautiful." - she lets out a gasp, as your thumbs stretching out to reveal her opening to you, tongue slowly curling it. - "Not a single flaw on you, perfection."

Both of you are used to your flatter when it comes to making love with her. Your words of appreciation are  a blessing for Miranda ears and... it's truly no secret they also work as aphrodisiacs. It turns her too way too much. And the blonde woman finds it extremely difficult  to stay still not moan too loudly as your tongue penetrates her without a warning. It's a melting pleasure for both of you. She's tight and warm, in order for you actually give her something - you lock your jaw in place and push forward until your fully extended tongue muscles slip inside of her, nose left to teasingly rub against her clit. Then you allow yourself to explore. You spell both yours and Miranda's name against her inner walls, which twitch in excitement. It's long before she rest her head on a pillow while her hips jerk off forward, needs more friction.

"Were you hiding from me all this time, darling?" - she's expected to start talking her nonsense when near her edge, but surprisingly against tonight - her words are sharply calculated, despite her having to stop between heavy breaths and urgent hisses. - "Joking around with that boy when you're clearly made to worship a woman's body?" - there goes her never ending race against Philip. And your ex boyfriend is not even on the competition anymore. Your tongue leaves her with a wet pop, forcing out a whimper out of her. You lick your lips before exposing her puffy clit to more exploding fire. Miranda finds herself out of breath, yet still the muscles of her neck flex out when she speaks again. Specifying her worries for you. - "...My body."

Nothing feels real at the moment. As if time has frozen you don't even consider the outside world. The room, sheltering you, is completely invisible. Only Miranda exists for you. And her pleasure. A hand, quiet as a snake, roams through the sheets down between her legs. A helper for your jaw, which is already getting tired from bobbing up and down. You interrupt your working mouth, only to quick take two fingers inside it. Covering them with great amount of saliva, you later on release them from between your lips. Miranda is practically a leaking mess, yet it would never hurt to add more lubricant. She easily takes both fingers until they sink knuckle deep inside of her. Once they start moving the woman woman, wraps a palm over her own mouth and throws her head back, loosing any ability to hold her precious eye contact. Although she tries her best, hitched moans still manage to explode out of her. You alarm yourself by the sound, something finally clicking inside your mind. Your personal room is much closer to the kid's bedrooms than Miranda's one, so naturally she'd be forced to muffle herself. Perhaps covering her with kisses might help. While ascending in search for her lips, however, she suddenly snaps at you - voice slightly irritated.

"No, baby, you can't deny me that golden tongue of yours."  - her unbelievably strong hand shoves your head back to her core, her hips now jerking upwards. Any anxiety about her daughters being faced with a very bad example evaporate from your thoughts. You open your mouth, allowing your tongue to just sticks out of it as she positions herself in a way, that will bring friction to her clit everytime she moves her hips up and down, rubbing against your face with need. Miranda keeps one arm wrapped at the back of your neck, holding you firmly, while the other is bended behind her - a weak elbow barely being able to hold her half up body while she seeks her pleasure. Your fingers never slow down, finding her sweet spot with ease, hitting it with the same rhythm she moves her pelvis. - "mmm...you're going to make me come, darling." - her declaration only switches a key inside of you, which immediately makes you double your efforts. Her moans turn into straight, breathless ahs, legs finally giving in to uncontrollable trembling. She is so close - you can practically taste her orgasm. - "Can I come for you, my sweet little deer?"

One moment Miranda is begging you for a release, and the next she's already curled up on one side, breathing so heavily that her pants easily fill the entire room, and the sheets are soaked beneath her still-shaking hips. You stare at her with a shocked expression, completely devoured of the situation. Your right hand remains with spread out fingers, the last move you did inside of her before she snapped in half, and by looking at it you note it's covered in a glove of her dripping wetness. Unbelievable, you've never pushed her that far. Every cell of your being wants to do it again. You wait for her breathing to calm down to regular, which definitely takes a few minutes. After that, however, Miranda just...stops moving. As if dead. You call out her nail, getting absolutely zero reaction in return. Moving closer to her is a good decision, but running a hand up her slightly exposed from the crumpled shirt back - not as good. She twitches with a hiss the moment your fingertips make contact with the black tissue on it.

"Not my back, Mi-" - she turns with the speed of light, eyes burning in golden colour, voice angrier than ever. You gulp, moving your hand back, and she sighs. - "...my darling."

"Sorry...I-"

"No, I should apologise." - Miranda skillfully wraps her fingers around your retreating wrist and pulls it back to her, sending a wave of sweet kisses down the path of your knuckles. - "I'm... barely able to form a thought right now, darling."

Well you should just go ahead a pat yourself on the shoulder. A statement from a while ago spawns in your mind out of the blue - Miranda was correct as usual, she's not hard to please when you know which buttons to push. Luckily for you, you know every single one of them.

"So...are you in for another round, granny, or are you too tired?" - you question her with a smirk, shifting so you can sit next to her on the bed. Your hands work fast to dispose your own clothing. Another pile finds a place on the floor.

"Call me granny again and I'll ruin you." - so she can think, after all. A little pissy than you would like, but still very inviting.

"Is that a promise or a threat..." - Miranda narrows her dark eyes at you. - "...granny."

The blonde woman is all over you before you can get your answer.

.

.

.

"Fuck...fuck...Mira-" - You feel a light slap slide across your ass. Another punishment about swearing, for which Miranda warns you about so often. Because of your position, pushed hard into the mattress, she can do whatever she wants. Oh, she's rather dominant when she decides to be. She has your legs intertwined with hers, one hooked up her shoulder for more access while your hips are rubbing together. You keep on staring at one single bulging vein on her stomach, it's low - starting from the apex of her left thigh and ending nearly her belly button. This is enough to keep your attention and not make you observe with how much need she grinds her throbbing core against yours. Because surely looking for too long will make you loose your mind. Although you choose not to use one sense it doesn't mean you can block your others from working. Your shared wetness merging together is echoing through the room, facing no other obstacles but additional heavy panting. - "Why don't we...fuck-" - and slap to your skin. - "...it would be easier to go to your room, no? You have your preparations there..."

"Don't you think it's more enjoyable to just... let you feel me like this, rather than being filled to the brim with a toy, hm?" - Miranda talks with confidence, as if she wasn't the one barely moving not so long ago. Though after having you come for her two time in a row- you're much more sensitive. She hugs the shaking leg around her shoulder, while moving even faster, rewarding you with another sticky kiss from her clit to your own. You almost scream from pleasure.

"Can't..." - Miranda lowers herself, bending your leg until your hip in almost glued to your stomach. You're flexible, but it surely sting your muscles a little. Not like you can focus on pain currently. For the first time since you've started being intimate, you find yourself being the one to dig nails into her shoulders. You don't dare to bother her back, however, for which she's thankful. Soon she leans her head down in order to kiss you. - "too much, Mira, I can't-"

"I know, darling, I know." - she coos at you with fake pity, turning your head to a side so she can lick your neck. Unexpectedly you grab her hips and push her against you. She hisses out, eyes widened. She's not going to be the only one struggling with the overwhelming pleasure. - "Yes..., I feel good too."

A world-shaking orgasm strikes you like a thunder. Miranda guides you through it, whispering praise while not allowing you rest, since she's seaking her own high peak. You completely loose track of reality. Everything happens too fast and the only thing clear enough for you to focus on is Miranda. Your goodness of beauty, in her purest moments of heat. Your favourite type of chaos, your evening sky and morning sun. You're certain now, in what exactly you wanted to tell her earlier with all your fancy words of admiration.

"I love you, Miranda, I love you so much."

The world slows down, the earth turns to ice , before it completely stops rotating. The illusion of the material and the immaterial is broken. The dark blue ocean pours over you, almost  drowning you.  Miranda's gaze is just that intoxicating once she tilts her head down. The air between you is as thick as a wall, even though no one is breathing. Then everything breaks. Miranda shatters into a million pieces. You don't even realize the weight of your words before they bring bitter drops to her eyes. You hate when she cries, but right now you hate yourself and your stupid feelings more.

Before you can even think of protesting or somehow appeasing her, she digs sharp nails into your temples. Your mind shuts down, giving her complete control. She sniffles, allowing herself to once again penetrate your brain, currently filled with regret. She removes anything that would hurt her. She removes the memory of your shared love. It eating her from the inside that there's no way for her to  remove the feeling entirely. She can't allow herself to be loved again.

"Please don't do this to me, you can't." - Miranda won't endure it again. The pure taste of poison. Although you're not mentally with her, she can control your body how she wishes. She forced you to sleep immediately, while she escapes your combined trap of flesh. - "Anything but that feeling again.." - she whispers more to herself than you. 

The blonde woman begins to cough, her hand quickly curling around her neck. A familiar feeling of pressure in her chest rises up to her mouth and she leans forward, squeezing her eyes shut, breathing deeply. She curses once as she falls to the floor, a second time as she runs to the bathroom, and a third time as her mouth fills with unnecessary drool. She stares at the mirror across from her, eyes bulging, for mere seconds, but it's enough to fill her with enough rage to knock her low again. The tiles beneath her body are cold. Miranda hates herself, hates when she feels so weak, hates the fact that none of the marks  you gave her will stay on her skin, she hates the fact that you love her.

I love you, Miranda, I love you, Miranda...two voices pop into her head. Mia doesn't belong there, but she can't bear to think about  you. Her skin warms and no matter how many times she swallows , the lump in her throat won't go away. She can't put off the inevitable. Miranda leans over the toilet, holding her hair in one hand as she coughs. Soon the unpleasant feeling of vomiting totally overwhelms her and she empties her stomach.

She's not surprised to discover that the liquid has no color. She vomits up pure stomach juices for the simple reason that she just doesn't eat. She hasn't had to in years. Not before you showed up and started bitching about how she wasn't getting enough to eat. Not until you started caring...A new wave of stomach acid comes out of her mouth. A certain amount of time passes, filled in coughing and more vomiting before she settles to the ground, exhausted.

The unpleasant habit of throwing up when under a lot of stress or pressure is something she has been struggling with for a long time, but can never overcome. Her stomach hurts, her throat and nose burn, and she's sure her teeth would be rotting right now if it weren't for the saliva that has accumulated in her mouth.

I love you, Miranda... Enough. This is a living hell. It's too soon, it's too rushed, you can't love her, she can't...leave her past behind. Miranda doesn't believe she can experience love without her familiar pain, and even though you're too different from Mia, she can't be sure, not when you told her yourself tonight that part of you longs to hurt her. Lovely, now her head is starting to throb too.

Exhausted and weak, she stands up. Still completely naked, except for her now teasing white shirt, she returns with quiet steps to the bedroom. She knows you are sleeping deeply because she herself is holding you under this influence. As she watches you, however , a sad sigh escapes her throat. It's all her fault. Miranda cannot accept your love, nor give you hers.

She bends down to pick up the clothes from the floor before leaving your room and disappearing into the night, leaving you alone.

[paintingwhiteceilings]

My request is completely self-indulgent but if you want to can you write for seventeen reaction to their S/O preferably she/her pronounce but u can change it you want having a twin brother?? Also I apologize if by any chance you see this request repeated multiple times in your inbox it’s just my internet connection being slow and weak asf 👎🏽

❃Seventeen and their S/O’s siblings❃

Ahhh so sorry this took as long as it did! I had a crazy few weeks and somehow my asks ended up under a pile of notifications. I mayyy have changed the ask to a general sibling prompt. I don't really know any twins so I don't think I could successfully write that kind of sibling dynamic repeatedly and get away with it. Instead, I included a variety of different sibling dynamics (with a couple of twin brothers); I hope you don't mind!

Scoups/Seungcheol:

❀ When you finally decided to introduce Coups to your older siblings, you hadn’t really been worried about whether they would like him or not. After all, he is very responsible and mature, being in charge of his twelve younger members; it wouldn’t be too difficult for your older siblings to trust him with their youngest.

❀ What you hadn’t been expecting, however, is for them to love him and treat him as if he was their own younger brother. Being the youngest in his own family and, let’s be fair, a pouty, whiny baby in Seventeen, he easily fell into the role of the youngest once he shook off his initial shyness and your siblings ate it up.

❀ Even worse, where you often struggle to get your siblings to do anything for you, all Coups has to do is pout or act cute, and they will sacrifice the world for him. They will even offer to pay for his meals and take him out to fun family activities regardless of whether you are able to make it. You’re half convinced Coups has become the favourite because he has no problem with spending an insane amount of money on your family, and he refuses to let them pay for anything.

❀ Yeah, needless to say, you’re feeling a bit salty about the whole situation. That was until Coups took you to meet his family, and you immediately became their favourite adopted child; it felt like the universe had righted itself once more.

Jeonghan:

❀ You regret introducing Jeonghan to your twin brother; for the past few hours, during your mandatory weekly family game night, he has been whispering in your ear that you should tap into your twin bond so that you can predict your brother's strategy. Jeonghan is absolutely adamant you two have a telepathic bond; he won't listen to you repeatedly telling him that you can't read your brother's mind just because you are twins.

❀ He will definitely try to figure out how to use the twin exploit to his advantage. Jeonghan will find a way to use this newly discovered information for chaos, either to prank someone else or to get his hands on new teasing material from the person closest to you.

❀ He will absolutely try to convince his members that he just happened to stumble on your male doppelgänger if you look anything alike, exclaiming in wonder that you two have even been born on the same day. Truly, what a coincidence.

❀ Overall, he would become such good friends with your twin brother; Jeonghan has such a charming and calming personality that it is difficult not to get along with him. Jeonghan also strikes me as the type of person who would put a lot of effort into getting along with their significant other's family, spending time with them whenever he can in order to maintain a good bond. 

Joshua:

❀ Joshua is the prime example of the naive only child unprepared for the stuff that siblings put each other through. Sure, Joshua technically got saddled up with twelve brothers after joining Seventeen. However, he didn’t have to deal with siblings and their shenanigans for most of his childhood, leaving the concept of fighting over the last piece of cake, not because you want it yourself but because you don't want your sibling to have it, a bit foreign to him.

❀ He is trying so hard to maintain the peace when you and your younger sister get into another heated argument when you discover she has borrowed a piece of clothing of yours without asking. Your parents love him, as when he is around, they can finally take a break and let him defuse the situation.

❀ Your little sister adores him, too; Joshua has a lot of arts and crafts days with her, where he teaches her how to make bracelets and knit scarves. They even made you a bracelet together; it almost made you forget about her remarks on how Joshua is her favourite older sibling.

❀ At this point, your little sister listens more to Joshua than you. Whenever you want her to do something, and she isn't listening to you, you have now resorted to simply calling him. For some reason, his asking her in a sweet voice to let you use the bathroom seems to work without fail.

Jun:

❀ It doesn't really matter whether you have older or younger siblings; Jun is THE person to bring home. On the one hand, when it comes to younger siblings, he is their favourite playmate and the person they turn to for advice. When it comes to older siblings, on the other hand, he will be cherished and loved as if he were their youngest brother.

❀ He truly shines when it comes to younger siblings, though. Jun is shameless when he plays with your younger siblings; he will crawl over the floor as if he is a snake or meow like a cat for hours on end. His acting skills are definitely paying off, and he will fully commit to whatever role your younger siblings need him to play. In all honesty, he enjoys playing with your siblings as much as they do; he is such a kid at heart.

❀ Jun is also THE person for advice. He never judges them and he is always willing to hear them out about whatever is troubling them. It doesn't leave the room either. He will never share whatever they confided in him with you unless they specifically have told him it is okay to do so.

❀ Honestly, your siblings will be threatening you to not break his heart or break up with him. They adore him and have already begun planning your wedding; you're stuck with him now.

Hoshi/Soonyoung:

❀ Initially, you were incredibly worried about introducing this delusion tiger man to your older sister because you were sure that she would ask you whether you wanted to date a madman. You forgot, however, that Hoshi can be incredibly shy when meeting people for the first time. He is so timid, glancing over at you for assurance every so often, that your sister has to pull you aside to ask whether this man truly is the same insane one you have described in your stories.

❀ He acts shyer and younger around your older sister, reverting to his younger brother role, and she dotes on him so much. He gets a lot calmer around your sister, and quite often, he tends to sit back to watch the two of you bicker back and forth, reminding him of his older sister.

❀ In your sister's eyes, he is the perfect boyfriend for you. He always texts her whenever he wants to buy you something, double-checking with her whether you will like the gift. Their private chat consists mostly of your sister sending him gift ideas based on what you mentioned or looked at during your last shopping trip.

❀ You have repeatedly told her to stop supporting his delusional tiger agenda. Whenever she sees anything tiger-related, she makes sure to buy it to gift to Hoshi the next time you meet up with her. She even goes to the extent of scolding you when you tell him to knock it off.

❀ After he gets more comfortable and his crazy side comes out to play, she will lean over to you to ask whether you have replaced him with a clone.

Wonwoo:

❀ Wonwoo can be incredibly introverted and shy, so when you proposed introducing him to your twin brother, he had a full-on mental breakdown, pestering Mingyu constantly for advice. He knew that you were very close to your twin brother, and it would mean the world to you for the both of them to get along nicely. He couldn't afford to mess this up.

❀ Initially, the meet-up was incredibly awkward, neither saying very much and, instead, sending you countless help-me-out glances. Fortunately, you knew exactly what topic to bring up to get the two socially inept souls talking: video games. You hadn't been particularly worried about the two not getting along, knowing that both of them were enthusiastic gamers.

❀ Nevertheless, a part of you slowly started regretting bringing up video games. The two had been discussing LoL and PUBG strategies for the past hour, and even though it was interesting, you would appreciate the occasional change in topic.

❀ Even worse, after the two of them exchanged user names, you now have to share your boyfriend with your twin. At this point, Wonwoo is spending more time with your brother duoing on Valorant than taking you on dates.

Woozi/Jihoon:

❀ All the training Seventeen has given him, preparing him for the day he would get a significant other with siblings, has been for nought. He still acts like he has never seen a child before upon entering your house. He is so worried that he will mess this up that you can see his hands shaking as he stares at your younger siblings.

❀ Fortunately, Woozi has a superpower; he is loaded and doesn't care to spend it on himself. The moment he offers to buy your younger siblings food with his black card is the moment he becomes their all-time favourite person. Armed with this valuable information, he spoils them rotten; your siblings only have to mention something or point at something in a display, and he will almost trip over himself to get it.

❀ You have tried getting him to stop, as you don’t want your siblings to continuously expect expensive gifts, but Woozi refuses to listen. Just as he does with Seventeen, he treats them like his own family, ensuring that they know he treasures them by burying them underneath a pile of gifts.

❀ One of your younger brothers is convinced he is Iron Man or Batman because someone that rich surely must be a superhero. You may have accidentally let it slip and told Woozi. He has never been more determined to empty out his bank account.

DK/Seokmin:

❀ DK is one of those people that is immediately loved by your family. He is such a sweet and happy person; how can anyone not fall in love with him? DK, in addition to that, is one of those types of people who want to be close to their partner's family and dedicate a lot of time to hanging out with them.

❀ He is perfect boyfriend material when it comes to dealing with your younger sibling, spending hours and hours playing hide and seek with them. In all honesty, DK is far more energetic than your younger siblings, and after spending an afternoon running around with him, they always immediately pass out.

❀ DK is so thoughtful when it comes to older siblings. He makes sure to put reminders for their birthdays on his phone, and he always seems to remember whatever they briefly mentioned wanting for a gift during a conversation five years ago. Does your older sister like theatre? Well, guess what. DK somehow managed to get his hands on tickets for that new popular musical. He only spent the past five hours calling every actor in his contact list to ask whether they could get him in. 

❀ DK would absolutely love to have a big in-law family with many older and younger siblings to surround him. The constant chatter and energy remind him of Seventeen, and, in his opinion, nothing beats that. 

Mingyu:

❀ Hear me out. Mingyu is husband material and the dream of every mother-in-law. That being said, your siblings at first couldn't stand him. It wasn't even anything Mingyu did, but from the moment he stepped into your house and met your mother, she completely fell in love with him.

❀ She keeps comparing Mingyu to them. They can't escape her mentioning Mingyu and his amazing qualities in every other conversation, resulting in a bit of resentment. “Mingyu would cook for me.” “I wouldn’t have to ask Mingyu to put his laundry in the basket.” “Mingyu would at least offer to help me clean the house.” 

❀ They would have been able to ignore her if the guy had any flaws, but no, the guy is tall, handsome, rich, talented and intelligent. They begrudgingly admit that maybe they could be more like him, and the world would be better off for it. They also have to begrudgingly admit that they too, are completely charmed by Mingyu.

❀ Poor Mingyu thinks that he has done something wrong and that they absolutely hate his guts. However, when Mingyu reveals he had a rough week due to an insane amount of random hate comments on his Instagram, they surprise him by declaring war. They have been fuming behind their laptops, insulting anyone who dares to hate on Mingyu. It made him tear up.

The8/Minghao:

❀ He was incredibly anxious when you wanted to introduce your little sister to him; sure, he is good with children, but he never had to deal with younger siblings. Even within Seventeen, he is one of the younger ones, and he already struggles to keep up with the chaos of his twelve members, lovingly (but harshly) scolding them whenever they tired him out. What if he accidentally loses it when your little sister bounces off the walls and insults her, forever damaging her self-esteem???

❀ Well, he had nothing to worry about. Sure, it takes him a second to realize that philosophical discussions with a barely ten-year-old won’t work, but the moment he discovers that your sister likes dressing up and drawing, he knows he will do fine.

❀ He organizes an entire fashion show for her and helps her assemble the most stylish outfits. Every morning, your little sister forces you to send Minghao pictures of her outfits, and he never fails to send a heartfelt compliment back.

❀ Moreover, Minghao spends many afternoons teaching her to throw paint at canvases. One of the paintings hangs proudly in his apartment for everyone to see, and another has replaced you as his phone background. You would be upset if it wasn’t so adorable.

Seungkwan:

❀ Seungkwan fits right in with your older sisters. Maybe it is because he has two older sisters himself, but somehow, it's as if he always has been a part of your family. You feel like he broke a record as he got them to love him in less than five minutes.

❀ The three of them have a private group chat where they share the latest tea and gossip. Neither party knows any of the people the other mentions. Still, whenever anything remotely exciting happens, it will be discussed at length in the chat.

❀ Recently, they have upgraded to calling, and Sarah-from-work's not-so-subtle move on their married boss may have interrupted your date. Then again, you were quite invested in what Sarah-from-work did this time as well, making Seungkwan put them on speaker.

❀ He is so comfortable with your sisters that they have no issue roasting each other. The moment they hurl an insult at you, he has got your back, ready with an arsenal of embarrassing moments they entrusted him with. It never fails to make you love him more.

Vernon:

❀ When you told your older brother that you had a boyfriend, he was ready to give them a good talking to, intimidating them the way an older brother should. However, the moment you introduced Vernon to him, his entire game plan went out of the window. Your brother quite quickly realized that Vernon had drunk enough respect-women-juice that he would never intentionally hurt you.

❀ Moreover, the two of them connected over some obscure film that you had never heard of. They spent most of the evening discussing what they thought of its plot and how the cinematography masterfully added to the atmosphere in the scenes. You could tell that your brother was impressed by how well-articulated and well-thought-out his points were.

❀ At the end of the evening, your brother has completely forgotten about the if-you-hurt-my-sister talk he was supposed to have. The two of them even make plans to go to an indie film that is releasing in art cinemas next week.

❀ That being said, I do not think Vernon would be the type of person who needs to be best friends with your siblings. Sure, he would want to be friendly with them and would not be opposed to the occasional hang-out, but he wouldn’t go out of his way to do stuff with them one-on-one.

Dino/Chan:

❀ It doesn’t really matter whether you have younger or older siblings. Dino is used to both. He grew up with a younger brother and is fully aware of how annoying they can be and how much responsibility you feel towards them as the older one. Dino also has had to deal with twelve annoying older brothers who don’t let him breathe.

❀ Bro is ready with the quick comebacks. Do your siblings want to tease him about something potentially embarrassing he did? Good luck. His members have completely desensitized him. Do your siblings betray him in a game of Risk? He won’t get upset; his members have tried sacrificing him in games even when it wasn’t needed.

❀ Your siblings can’t help but be impressed by how witty and quick he is. When he mentions it to his members, they have the audacity to tell him that this has been part of their plan all along. He definitely believes them when they argue that all the years of teasing and borderline physical harm were for the day he would meet his partner’s sibling, easily able to remain calm regardless of whatever teasing remark was thrown his way.

❀ “What if my partner would have been an only child?” They suddenly get really quiet. The wall has become interesting.

masterlist

[thegreymoon]

The Story of Minglan

Oh, Minglan.

This is what happens when you take the attitude of "It's no big deal if my husband sleeps with morally questionable other women." 🙄

I am fully on his side on this issue but I feel like hasn't done a good enough job of expressing just how disgusting he personally finds these concubines that everyone keeps trying to force on him. Minglan has been brainwashed by the patriarchy and it will take her a while to find her ground and feel secure enough to put her foot down, but what is stopping him from advocating for himself?

My guy, just say NO.

***

LMAO, he's the ruthless and stupid one?

Chang'er's death is his fault? I cannot with this evil narcissist.

***

Fuck you.

Maybe if your garbage ass had not kidnapped him, he wouldn't have gotten sick. And if he had, they would have been able to afford a doctor.

***

I hope he really rips her limb from limb.

The more I see of her and of Lin Qinshuang, the more valid I find Mo Ran for deep-frying fucking Song Qiutong.

***

Unfortunately, Minglan talked him out of torturing her to death 😕

***

LOL, let's hope that at least the piece of shit maternal uncle gets tortured.

***

Please tell me we will get to see a beheading 😭

I am so sick and tired of these people. They have been trying to murder Gu Tingye for fifty episodes now. I am so done 😭😭

***

I love it when cats make guest appearances in dramas 💙

***

Hell person.

***

In general, I am not pleased with how this story has handled Manniang and her children. It all seems sanitised and on easy mode for Minglan because the true circumstances of him having this whole family before marrying her diminishes the romance as it is and making it any more realistic would probably have snapped a lot of people out of rooting for the main couple because they could no longer idealise it.

I mean, look at this:

If this show was realistic, the odds are that Rong-jie, with a vindictive, abusive, neglectful biological mother who abandoned her like this, would have taken all that trauma out on Minglan because this is how kids tend to react in such situations. She would have given her stepmother hell because she was there and a convenient target, while the narcissistic, toxic, neglectful bio mother was not.

Also, killing Chang-er is the writers taking the easy way out because now they have eliminated Gu Tingye's eldest son and possible heir from competing with Minglan's children for the title and the wealth. It's such a cop-out. With Chang-er in the picture, the only way Minglan's children could inherit would be if Gu Tingye refused to acknowledge him as a son, which would absolutely destroy his image and tank the character in the eyes of the viewers.

This way, Minlgan's children get all the benefits without her having to fight for them at the detriment of Tingye's older children and Tingye gets to preserve his image of a doting and responsible father, putting all the negative connotations of his irresponsible first common-law marriage onto the evil Manniang. Gu Tingye and Minglan maintain their noble images and Manniang is scapegoated to enable this. It just leaves me feeling a lot of ick.

It may be unfair of me, but I respect the writing on this show a whole lot less because of these decisions. The truth is, overall, this drama is better written than 99% of other dramas so I feel extremely weird getting hung up on this and letting it get so magnified in my head, but I feel like the fact that the rest of this drama is so realistic and well-written works against them here. There are standards here that were set and I am expecting the rest of the story to proceed on that level, but these standards are no longer being met because meeting them implies compromising the untarnished image of the main characters. It is so convenient and such an obvious cop-out, that I genuinely feel swindled and somewhat salty about it.

***

So selfish and so fucking evil.

What did Rong-jie ever do to her?

She is the one who abandoned her, she's the one who took the boy out and caused his death. She will just blame anyone except herself for her shit selfish decisions.

***

WTF.

Rong-jie is going to need so much therapy, which is unfortunately not a thing in Song Dynasty China.

***

Fucking finally, some good decisions.

***

Oh, yeah, Xiaotao and Shito are definitely a thing.

***

So gorgeous 🧡

Definitely a potential reference pic.

***

She is the poster child for an untreated personality disorder.

I'm so glad I live in the XXI century where mental health care is available, not that it prevents a whole lot of people from still acting like this and blowing up entire lives.

***

Don't you worry, evildoer, your comeuppance is also coming!

[tavina-writes]

i want to share salt. have you ever had a ship that annoyed you so much it starts poisoning other ships you could have potentially liked? because this is me with xiyao vs nielan. like, xiyaos are so fucking loud and proud of the fact that he sides with jgy over everybody else multiple times in ways that turn out to be incredibly hurtful. so it gets to the point i can't even enjoy cute teenage nielan art knowing xichen is going to so catastrophically fuck this up by repeatedly writing off mingjue as just imagining things and lying to him and leveraging their relationship for someone else's benefit and handing his killer the method to kill him and that people are *gleeful* about all that.

Hi Nonny!

First off, I want to offer you a hug, because this sort of feeling about fandom is never a fun thing to experience, and since you recognize that this is a salty ask, you might want nothing more than a "hey I see this and I get it in some part!"

But if you're thinking about how you might improve this situation and like, enjoy interacting with 3zun fandom again/mdzs fandom in general, I have a few ideas:

block everyone whose takes are pissing you off. There needs to be no bigger reason than "You know what, your takes are ruining this fandom experience for me" or "making me slightly more irritated than I would've been." There's no shame or like, anything wrong with this. Ultimately, we all live in this mosh pit of stuff together, and I might think everyone has a right to whatever kind of take they want, but I don't have to martyr myself on the cross of "hearing all sides" or whatever, and neither do you Nonny.

Recognizing which things are fanon and which are canon. This might help, but like, LXC doesn't, canonically, keep picking JGY at every turn. He is a flawed character with his own problems (as are they all in MDZS lol) but this is...not really what's happening? People can say what they want in their meta and their headcanons and interpretation of canon, but that doesn't make it...true.

this goes with 1 and 2 but also: if a fandom or a ship or a trope or something no longer brings you joy Nonny, there's always the opportunity to pack it up and leave it behind, either permanently or for a time. There's nothing wrong with not being "on" about a ship or fandom or recognizing that it was once something you really liked but not something you enjoy right at this very moment.

All that said, I'm personally of the opinion that there's a very loud and vocal part of the xiyao fandom (who exist on my blocklist by now) who've made me lose interest in the ship altogether, because the parts of the ship that I find most interesting -- the deceit, the almost gothic horror vibes, the slowly rotting center of their relationship when it didn't begin that way -- is obviously not what most (or what seems like most) people who ship it are looking for. And overall, I'm sure that it's no loss to not have me there, and that I (a NieYao girlie at heart) would not be welcome in that sandbox, so like, Nonny, I do get you and your frustrations. Ultimately I guess sometimes it's just easier to recognize that not all fandom spaces are welcoming and to find places that serve you better.

[erme-maererme]

following this i need to say that durge obviously balances astarion out when it comes to long-term planning, but i'd like to also add some detail on how i see this ability of theirs and what kind of a leader they are.

durge is a cult leader, not a commander of an army and not a politician in the sense that they would not be good at organizing things like cities and states and gaining the support of citizens and stuff. their interpersonal skills are way above average, but they'd make a poor manager, if that makes sense. they find strict organization and discipline boring, their goal is just to get people to do whatever they want, not to establish structure. i'm looking at that high charisma of canon storm sorcerer durge and also my bard+sorcerer durge here. they're an excellent manipulator, there's that intimidation proficiency, so basically their scheming mainly consists of identifying people that can be useful to them/the party and convincing them to do what they want, ensuring that they're an ally for the future etc. durge is a people person, even if it's at times lethal for the people in question.

that's also why our murderous amnesiac becomes a reluctant leader of the group, they manage to resolve conflicts between party members, use their strengths well and more importantly they just usually go with the ideas that the others offer. i think in-game durge is in a lot of pain all the time and trying to figure out what is wrong with them (the urge), so they don't have much space in their head to make plans and scheme, they just go along with what the others think they need to do, while giving it the air that the party came up with these brilliant plans together, so no one would feel salty about things and bother them further. i don't think they notice until at least moonrise that they're the de facto leader of this group, even though they don't really discuss this hieararchy.

additionally, the pre orin lobotomy durge must have planned at participated in a lot of murders on their own or with a small group of other cultists, the bhaalists, as they appear in act3, favour stealth and disguises and there's that invisibility cloak sceleritas gives them back, which also hints in this direction. overall, it makes sense to assume that this type of planning is much like an instict to durge and that they're used to having such numbers with them as the party can be, so their coordination tips would come into use.

+ in contrast with what i wrote about astarion in the previous post (him being effective in crisis), durge would not be particularly good at this, as in any situation that might make them lose control over their mind. the more overwhelmed by some negative emotions they're the harder it is for them to keep the urge in check (and being overwhelmed by some sort of happiness is not fully accessible to them due to the urge beginning to push them even harder towards destroying the source of that joy, so it wouldn't be distracting them from serving bhaal). so if durge panics they end up either killing everybody or immediately leaving and isolating themself so they would not kill everybody.

[copperbadge]

I had a very successful and entertaining day today, as you guys can probably tell from the posts I made. There's a few more queued posts of stuff I didn't get to post in-situ, so enjoy that!

Some anecdotes I did not post about from today:

-- I can't remember the last time I queued for a museum. Mostly because if it's not one of "my" museums, like the Field or the Art Institute where I know the best ways in, I'm attending on a weekday deliberately so that I am not amongst the crowds. The line to get into the British Museum was a full block long, but to be fair it only took me ten minutes from opening to get inside. I was mostly amused by the people who a) didn't understand how museum entry works or b) didn't understand how to stand in a line without also blocking foot traffic on the rest of the sidewalk.

-- Almost got in a fight with someone, a definite first for me in a museum. I got salty with a guy who touched a sculpture when he knew he shouldn't, and he got up in my face, and I think genuinely the fact that I knew what the sculpture was called and he didn't confused him so badly he backed down. So if you're looking to defuse a situation via confusion, the phrase "Hey, don't fucking touch the Lamassu and we won't have a problem" worked for me.

-- The British Museum is great but among other issues (looted objects, weird relics of museum-specific imperialism, etc) it does suffer from poor display design in places. I'm okay with that, I kind of like old museums that are a little fucked up, even as I acknowledge that old fucked-up museums also have old fucked-up messaging. They appear to be trying on that front, but they could use a display placard overhaul. At one point I found an object in a case that appeared to be a carved human leg bone, and while I'm not a Bone Specialist there was also absolutely no placard about the bone at all. (I looked it up in the collection later using other objects in the case as reference, and it's just noted as "bone".)

-- I did have a great time overall; I saw most of the museum and then had a fancy meal, as documented. I was especially pleased to get to sample their coronation chicken since I collect tastings of coronation chicken, and I think they either used molasses in it or the bread had some, and either way it's grist for my mill as I start to develop The Chicken Salad War. After lunch I went on the hunt for a few last things, but I could feel myself getting tired and Becoming Unmedicated so I decided to leave a little early, which was the right choice, and gave me a little time to do some exploring.

-- @neil-gaiman did a post a while ago about stuff to see in London which I saved, and while I mostly planned my own journey, I did stop at Atlantis Books on his recommendation, which was well worth it. The woman working the till left me alone until I was ready to buy my book, then praised my choice (always a good move) and made a few minutes' small talk about my visit from America while she was ringing me up. Also I have never seen such a variety of Tarot decks for sale in my life. It was extremely impressive given the entire shop is roughly the size of my bedroom in Chicago.

All in all an excellent day out in London. Tomorrow I'm traveling to meet up with a friend, so probably fewer photos, but day after tomorrow I'm bound for Amsterdam so expect Rijksmuseum photos! I did not get into the Vermeer exhibit sadly, but I still want to see the museum and I'm on a quest for freshly made stroopwaffels and authentic gjetost, so I'm excited for the journey. I thought this trip might be one small anxiety after another -- would I be okay on the plane, would I get on the right trains, etc -- but I'm feeling more confident now, and I think between my early-bird tendencies and the ADHD meds I kicked the jet lag pretty quickly. I'm off to bed in a few, because tomorrow is an early day, so I guess we'll find out then how much I really kicked it....

[sinsandsweetness]

Desperate (sex and zombies- chapter 14)

pairing- {Daryl x fem!reader}

summary- You find yourself needing a helping hand.

warning- 18+ content, immediate smut, no plot just absolute filth, humiliation, dirty talk, fingering, slight crybaby reader?

notes- If you are here for the overall plot, this scene would be placed back in the prison, before things actually pick up with Rick. During the week while they are ignoring each other because he lost it on her.

*For that sweet anon who wanted another Daryl chapter; I assumed you liked 'transient' because of his attitude and dirty talk, so I tried to keep that in. Let me know if this satisfied your needs <3

You laid there, shaking and whimpering like a little bitch. Overaware of your own sounds, covered in a light sheen of sweat, with the sheets kicked to the edge of the bed. Hand in your shorts, and fingers stuffed up your cunt as far as you could manage. It wasn't enough. You'd been at it for an hour at least. Breathing all heavy and fucking your own hand, trying to find some kind of relief in the heat of the non air conditioned prison. Sexually frustrated from... well everything really. Rick mostly. Him losing it on you. You were avoiding him like the plague, afraid to make him any more mad. Afraid that he'd hold a grudge, and that you'd never even have a shot with him. As silly as it sounded, it is what you'd wanted from the start, so you really didn't want to fuck up your chances now.

You picked up your pace, bucking your hips further onto the three digits you'd managed to fit in your sopping wet pussy. A pool of slick had already dampened the sheets below, proving just how desperate you were to finish. Fuck. Why can't you finish? It's not like you'd never touched yourself before. You knew your own body. Right?

You were just stressed. At least that's what you figured. Stressed from the farm, and being on the road, and then the prison. Everything that had happened since arriving. It was really dampening your mood. 

You let out a frustrated cry and bit your lip hard, trying to contain your emotions, still finger fucking yourself as fast as you were able to, but every time you thought you were close, it would just disappear. A salty tear slipped down the side of your face. Oh my god. How pathetic are you? You can't even make your own self c-

"Hey- Oh shit." 

You ripped your hand out of your shorts and immediately went for the sheets, pulling them up to cover your embarrassment.

"What the fuck Daryl, have you never heard of knocking?!"

"Sorry I didn't know you were- I thought you had a headache..." Daryl stood, rather awkwardly right at the entrance of your cell. The curtain swaying slightly from where he'd just interrupted your, not so peaceful, privacy.

"I did-" you took a deep breath. You actually did, a few hours ago. And then you woke up feeling much better and weirdly aroused from some dream you couldn't quite remember. So you thought, what better time then to rub one out while no-one would bother you. 

Your whole face was on fire, the humiliation of the situation setting in completely. "Just get out please." You covered your eyes with your hands and the sheet, attempting to shield your entire self from his gaze. No way were you coming now.

"Were you- uh, were you touchin' yourself?" His mouth was curled into a funny little smirk.

"Get. Out. " You said through your teeth, this time looking up at him, giving your absolute best death glare. 

He stepped closer, confusion forming on his brows.

"Were you crying? " He asked, taking a couple steps closer, making your whole body burn bright red. Ohmygod just leave already. 

"No." You quickly wiped away the wetness on you cheek.

"Well it looks like you were crying."

"I just- can you get the hell out please. Fuckin' seriously." 

"Hey," his face softened at your tone. "I'm not tryna be mean okay. I was just checking up on you. Thought I'd bring you some water." He waved the bottle in the air, the sound of the liquid splashing around inside the plastic.

You didn't answer, instead just trying to focus on your heart rate that wouldn't calm the hell down. 

"Why were you crying?" He asked, really sincere this time. 

"I can't-" you sighed again. Pulling your knees up and burying face as you admitted the reason. "I can't finish. It's- I don't know, it's like I'm broken or something."

"You're not broken," He sat on the edge of the bed, a hint of amusement in his voice. He was way too close for comfort, and the fact that your sleep shorts were soaked through with your own wetness didn't help. "You're propably just stressed. A lot's been happening."

You nodded into your knee, not caring to make eye contact with the man. You'd asked him to leave a million times already and he clearly wasn't listening.

"You want some help?" He offered, hand coming up to your calf, gently squeezing it. 

You scoffed an almost laugh. "Um no. I want you to leave."

"You uh... You sure?" His eyes travelled down to the wet spot on the bed, which you quickly moved to cover with your leg.

"Daryl I swear to fucking god-"

"Hey-" he moved forward, hands on your legs, pushing them apart and leaning in to you. "Relax. You've helped me out once or twice, c'mon. Let me. Last I checked, you can finish with me... Unless you've been fakin' it or somethin'..." 

"Ugh." You fell back in frustration, head hitting the cushiony pillow below. "You don't get it. I've been trying for an hour and it just like..." You tried to come up with how to describe it. "Like it's never enough, I get so close and then it just... it hurts." 

"So you gave yourself blue balls?"

What a freakin' boy. "Yeah, I guess if that's what you wanna call it." You rolled your eyes, propping yourself up on elbows, seeing him in between your legs. A patient look on his face. His bulging muscles extra apparent in his tight black long sleeve. Jesus Christ he was just making it worse.

"Try again." He suggested.

"I've been trying Daryl. It's not fuckin' working."

"Just," he grabbed your hand, and positioned at your core. "Let me see. Try again. Touch yourself."

The second the words left his mouth you felt a jolt in your pelvic muscles. His energy shifted from playful to possessive. 

"I don't really-"

"It's nothing I haven't seen before." He counter argued. True. Though it felt different. More... intimate. Being on display wasn't really your thing.

"C'mhere." He tugged at your legs, pulling you down the bed and settling himself on the other end, one leg crossed under himself as the other hung over the tiny mattress, foot planted on the ground. "Take your shorts off."

You still felt the pink on your cheeks but the thought of actually finishing did help tame some of the embarrassment. You shimmied out of the shorts, tossing them to the ground. 

"Shirt too."

"Daryl-" You warned. He was pushing boundaries for sure. 

"Take the shirt off." His eyes were dark and you couldn't help but stare at the very prominent outline pulling at the denim of his jeans. 

You swallowed hard and took the top off in one fluid motion, nipples immediately forming little peaks on your supple breasts. He licked his lips, hands twitching, ready to touch you, but holding back. Situating himself even further into the mattress. 

"Well go on, show me what you were doin' before I walked in here."

You shook your head at him. 

"Do it. Or I won't touch you at all. Is that what you want? Do you want me to leave you here all hot and bothered? Or do you wanna come?"

"I wanna come." You whispered. So quiet it was a shock he even heard.

"Then go on. Show me." 

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back. Trying to escape into the marshmallowy mattress. And despite your reluctance, your fingers trailed down your stomach and reached your clit. Rubbing it a few times and falling on a circular pattern. Breath steadily moving your chest up and down, as you went to grab at your nipple with your other hand. Pinching it a little, trying to emulate what Daryl often liked to do to you.

"That's sure hot n' all, but it definitely ain't what you were doin' when I walked in."

You let out an unintentional sound at the thought of him watching. The thought of him being turned on by you touching yourself. You moved your hand even lower, middle finger dragging through your wetness and back up, spreading it onto your clit. Then dipping down again and inserting one digit. You swore you could hear Daryls breath hitch. You continued pumping in and out and soon added another finger.

"Look so pretty like this, all wet and needy." He said, his own hand finally making its way to your leg. Pushing you open so he could see you even better. "How's it feel?"

"Uh- It- It's ok," You grunted out, curling your fingers towards yourself, trying to focus on the end goal and not the way he was staring right into you.

"Relax your shoulders." He demanded, shifting around on the bed. "And breath." You did as he said, not realizing how tense you were. You stayed there with your eyes closed and your mind started drifting to thoughts about his own fingers instead. 

"I don't think it's working Daryl." You huffed as you slipped your fingers out, rubbing them both on your clit from side to side.

"It's workin' for me." He quipped. A hand now on your thigh, squeezing down on the muscle of your quad. 

Another tear escaped your eye with a shaky breath. What the actual fuck was wrong with you. 

"Aw baby, don't cry." He leaned over you, an adorable smirk plastered on his face, as he wiped the frustrated tear from your face. "Why don't you keep rubbing and I'll try and help you out, okay? I ain't gonna leave you here like this alright?" 

You nodded pathetically up at him. His dark hair falling into his eyes as he dipped down and placed a sweet kiss on your belly.

"Don't you fuckin' tease me Dixon I swear-" 

"-to fucking god, yeah, I know." He kissed downwards once more, closer to where your hands had come to a stop, right above your clit. "I didn't tell you to stop, did I?"

You whimpered. Absolutely aching for his beautiful eight inches to be filling up your cunt, destroying your cervix and making you cream all over him and those jeans he always kept half way on.

You kept rubbing fast circles onto your puffy nub. His own hand moved to your slit, startling you a little, at first. But as soon as he had three fingers, knuckle deep and fucking right into your sweet spot, you could barely form a cohesive thought. Just Him. His pretty blue eyes, his biceps flexing as he worked you into a writhing mess. His deep southern voice whispering a plethora of dirty little comments. One in particular, telling you to shut the fuck up before Rick walked in and caught you being a desperate little slut. It was working. Whatever he was doing was clearly working, because you could feel the extremely overdue orgasm starting to build. The familiar feeling of a knot forming in your stomach. Ready to unravel. 

"How are you so good at that?" You asked him through laboured breaths, involuntarily fucking yourself onto his hand. Not that he minded. His eyes were glossed over and locked in on what he was trying, and very much succeeding at doing. 

"You gonna come for me baby?" He ignored your question.

"Yeah I'm - Yes. yes." You would. At that pace you definitely would. He moved your hand out of the way and dipped down, pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to your clit. He huffed out a laugh against you at your reaction. Tightening around his fingers and letting out the most pathetic sob he'd heard all day. The vibration of his laugh sending you into orbit. He sucked on your clit as he curled his fingers, physically pulling the orgasm right out of you. Your head shot up off the mattress and your hands went right to his hair, keeping him held down, "Don't stop, Don't stop-" You moaned, feeling your core shake as you finally climaxed. The orgasm itself lasting a record breaking amount of time, until the tongue on your pussy was just too much and he pulled his fingers out, glistening white with your cum. 

"Think you made a little mess sunshine." He said, licking clean each of his fingers. The sight making your stomach do a backflip. You could feel the rest of your cum on the sheets below, all wet and gooey. You could already go again. Actually you needed to. Even though you had finally finished, you wanted him. To feel every thick inch of him fucking you into another mind blowing orgasm.

"You got one more in there for me?" He asked, as if reading your mind. Leaning himself back up and starting at his belt.

"Yes daddy." You clamped both hands onto your mouth. Why the fuck would you say that? His eyes got all big as he grinned at your response. 

He chuckled, "Y'know I won't make fun of you for that today, with you cryin' and all, but I hope you know I won’t forget that." 

You groaned. Knowing it would come back to bite you in the ass. "Please can we just-"

"I got it." He pushed you back down, settling between your legs. His cock seeming a lot more intimidating than you previously remembered. Standing proud in his hand as he jerked himself a few times, aligning himself between your legs. He pushed himself in, throwing his head back as he grunted. The pressure making you both moan.

"So fuckin' wet for me aren't you?"

"Yes, all for you Daryl, so fuckin' wet..." you trailed off, eyes rolling back into your skull. He fucked you hard and slow, drawing it out nice and long. He was so used to quickies in a car or in the basement of an abandoned house, that he'd forgotten what it felt like to actually fuck someone. To really experience it. And was he ever experiencing it. His pupils completely blown, watching you squirm on his cock. His shirt pushed half up his abdomen, hands gripping your thighs and positioning them wherever he wanted. As soon as he had them up and over his shoulders, that tight, burning sensation hit the sides of your nose, forcing a few more tears out of your pretty doe eyes. Out of pure pleasure this time instead of pain.

Eventually he moved both your legs to the side, contorting you into a twisted mess of sobs. Grabbing your face and forcing you to watch his pelvis slam against your asscheeks over and over. That's it. With the grip on your jaw, and his cock buried deep, you let out a raspy moan, tugging on the comforter until your knuckles were white, signalling you reaching your climax. You didn't even have to let him know. You let the feeling wash through your core as he fucked you through it. He pulled out quickly and shot thick white ropes onto your skin and the sheets below. Too far gone to care that you'd need a shower, even though you'd already taken one that morning.

"Fuck." You whispered, as he collapsed down next to you, pulling his boxers back up.

"Yeah..." He was out of breath, Just laying next to you, hand moving to tickle a pattern onto your knee. You grabbed the sheets, pulling them up and wiping off.

"Hand me that sweater, will you?"

He grabbed the oversized sweater off the ground, handing it to you, you slipped it over your head and climbed halfway over him, reaching into your bag and grabbing some clean boy shorts, slipping them on as well. Then collapsing right back next to Daryl. To rest your shaky legs.

"I told you, you aren't broken." He tickled your thigh, biting back a laugh as you smacked his shoulder. 

"God you're such an asshole." You chuckled along with him. 

"What's that baby? You think daddy's actin' like an asshole?'

Your smile dropped and you could almost feel the tears forming again. "You promised..."  He'd already forced a few too many emotions out of you for the day. You just didn't have it in you to take the jokes at your expense anymore.

"I'm sorry!" He put his hands up in surrender. "Seriously!" He smiled sweetly at you. You let him take your hand, pulling you up off the bed. "C'mon, let's go get you washed up. They're probably making' supper right now."

The entire time you ate, he kept grazing the bare skin of your thighs, toying with the hem of your sweater and glancing at you through his peripheral. It was a miracle that no one asked why you were blushing so hard.

[italoniponic]

𝓑𝓲𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓒𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 - mini-project

Charming Eyes

Notes: based on this Cherry’s Harvesting request where Anon asked for Trey, Azul, Deuce and Floyd (and whoever else I wanted) to discover that Reader’s very dark-brown eyes (nearly black) could be actually brown if you shine light directly into it. And then they fall more in love with Reader~ I used Lilia instead of Trey and Azul at that time, so now they’re here too yay &lt;3

Trey Clover, Azul Ashengrotto x gender neutral reader / fluff headcanons / reader has dark brown eyes / use of “you” pronouns

Earlier that day, Trey had invited you in Heartslabyul to try out an old Clover family recipe. He planned to present this recipe to Riddle in order to expand the menu options at the Unbirthday Parties — if the Queen of Heart’s rules allowed, of course. And since Trey wanted to spend time with you, he asked for your help;

One of the first things to do was checking the egg cartons. Trey learned a trick in Magicam that consisted of using the cellphone’s flashlight over the shells to find out if the egg was good — the light would show an orange yolk — or bad — the inside would reveal to be dark. But, just as he turned on the flashlight, you crouched near the counter to take a look at the eggs;

Trey got terrifically surprised when the light flashed through your eyes and revealed, for a very brief moment, that behind your normally coal-black irises, it was the most beautiful shade of cocoa. Trey turned off his phone’s flashlight quickly, however. He didn’t want to blind you or anything;

But it still was a stunning discovery. During the preparation of the recipe, you commented on how it was a normal effect that the light had on your eyes. But so rare were the occasions that some strong light was cast upon them that you were sure hardly anyone noticed that your eyes had this effect;

And you sure couldn’t imagine the impression this would leave on Trey. He thought about it for a long time. So, he was one of the few people who knew? Trey felt special, although it was extremely embarrassing to admit it. He wasn’t very versed in romance, and this situation sounded like some of the honeyed things that he heard his parents saying to each other — and maybe he wasn’t that far behind;

As the days went by, Trey became more attentive to your eyes when you went out together in very sunny places or where the overall ambient light was quite strong. He hoped to see the glorious brown in your eyes again. Any day, any time;

It seemed almost natural that this was a unique effect of yours, reflecting your nature. You often keep things about yourself deep in your soul. Trey understood what that was like better than anyone else. He looked normal, too, but he could be unpredictable. Or rather, he seemed crazy, but he was in fact quite average;

You could pick up on that whenever you stared at him — meanwhile, he would look at you just as subtle and passionately. Trey’s eyes were golden as butter, soft like honey. Sweet and salty, mixed in the ceramic bowl that was his face. He would have died laughing at the comparison if he had listened;

You cooked together again, but this time at the Ramshackle. It was a pastry that Trey insisted on teaching you to make, called “Hatter’s eye” — an invention of his uncle, who was an oculist. It was worth the joke, you’d to say. It seemed complicated to do but it turned out to be pretty simple;

Finally, you tried the pastry when you two finished making it and it was really delicious. It looked like an eye inside a hat — honestly, the taste was better and easier to digest than the eccentric appearance. You turned around excitedly to thank Trey for the experience, your eyes shining like fireflies at night;

Then Trey ended up remembering something that was kind of obvious from the beginning: whether it was the black shadows of your eyes or their dark chocolate brown hue over the light, your gaze was beautiful in every way. That’s because it was you he was staring at deep down. And Trey could tell he just kept falling deeper down his heart’s rabbit hole, head over heels in love with you.

Sitting on his VIP office couch and reading a magazine full of interesting advertisements, Azul waited for your arrival so you both could dine in the Mostro Lounge that evening. It was a date in its humblest form — if “humble” could be used with the octopus merman. But without any warning, you soon rushed in, completely exhausted and practically collapsing on his lap;

You scared the living daylights out of Azul with that. But if anything, with the day’s fatigue weighing on your shoulders, you didn’t mind him and got distracted by the round ceiling lamp above — it was only really visible if you were in that position. It lit up the office while the little lamps on the shelves did the rest. It was in this mixture of several different lights that Azul noticed something in your eyes;

A discovery simply unimaginable! Your eyes were usually so dark that Azul found himself wondering if there could exist humans with shark-like eyes. But, right there under that bright light, he came across a shade of brown hiding in the depths of your gaze, like a ship full of treasures resting on the sea;

Because staring too long at the light was starting to hurt your eyes, you sat more appropriately next to Azul. He was still surprised, yet disguised it well. Even though he was no longer in the old-fashioned business of rolling you into contracts, there was something about this tiny piece of information that delighted him;

How many people knew your eyes had this ability? Your friends? Just your family? Would he be a humble lucky one among your acquaintances? Eventually, Azul brought it up again and you explained things better — and yes, he really was the only one in the entire NRC who noticed the fact;

It was inevitable that Azul would feel indebted to you in some way. What could he do anyway? He discovered a special secret about you unintentionally, even if it wasn't this big shock he was making it seem like it was;

In short, that was how you ended up being called to the Mostro Lounge, at its night after hours. Azul decided to “pay” an exchange for his discovery in the form of showing you again what his octopus form looked like. He was inside the huge aquarium on the wall — half hidden while you didn’t arrive, a little unsure if it really was a good idea this situation he created for himself;

From your own part, you were more scared to find out the real, crazy reason you were there than at the sight of a half-octopus boy in front of you per se. As you approached each other — well, as you could since there was a wall of reinforced glass between you — you stared deep into Azul’s eyes and he, into yours;

The merman’s blue eyes seemed like a mixture of the crystalline blue of his human form and the slight eye opacity of certain octopus species — perhaps that's why his vision worsened when he took the potion to the surface;

From his point of view, on the other side, the lights in the lounge added a bluish marine effect to the brown color of your eyes. Azul was already completely in love with you but, it was as if you only convinced him more that he was in the right direction with each new conversation. Not as if you were selling your love, but as a confirmation. He had no doubt of his feelings for you;

But, in all honesty, Azul always knew that you were a rare pearl. This from the first time he faced you, trying to investigate your mysterious black-ink eyes to the present day. And don’t think that this wouldn’t continue in the future too. Azul loved you for who you were, the real person behind your eyes. And you thought the same about him.

| Special notes: as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't exist a pastry called "Hatter's eye" lol but now that I came with the concept, I'm curious about how it would look like and the taste... |

[lighteffexor]

Halo Reach is pretty good. The first half was alright, and I didn't really like the Falcon stage since it felt like Bungie used it primarily to test flying combat, decided to throw in some firefight maps, and just had you fly around until the game decided you could continue, but the two stages before it and the stages after it until the end I thought were great. I liked how much more filled out the enemy ranks were in combat situations which lead to me having to change my strategies on the fly much more than before, though sometimes I felt like I was fighting an SNK boss with how much they seemed to be reading my inputs (a fucking elite ducked my sniper shot frame perfectly, what the fuck).

Really hated how the final moment had a wraith bombarding me since I figured "what if I board it like I've done most wraiths", ran out to it, then got a "return to battlefield" countdown. Like, who the fuck's going to stop me when NO ONE IS LEFT ON REACH? Ended up cutting my final moment short because of that. Just a little salty but whatever.

Overall, I think ODST > CE > 2 > Reach > 3. Not saying 3 is bad, though, as these are all ranging from good to great. I just loved everything about ODST, CE I just have a soft spot for since that's the one I played most (in multiplayer) and I also just like older games which CE definitely is, 2's story was great and I loved playing as the Arbiter, Reach I already said, and 3 I also enjoyed, but I don't think it did anything particularly better than any of the others.

I enjoyed my time with Halo. I think my biggest issue with it is that first playthroughs seem kind of rough since it tends to expect that you just know what's going on with how it throws terms and directionless objectives out (it's part of why I think Final Fantasy 13 is pretty bad since, in that game, the characters also assume you know what they're talking about). 3 is REALLY bad with this, which is why I placed it so low on top of just throwing my babygirl Arby onto the sidelines. ODST and Reach were a little better at it, though. Granted, ODST's stages felt a lot more linear and simpler than the others, but it also had an actual objectives list that, for some reason, didn't show up in Reach (unless I missed it). Reach did give you waypoints and objective markers more frequently and even, FINALLY, told you what your weapons did without you having to figure it out/read the now non-existent manual, so that kind of makes up for not having/me not being able to find an objectives list.

I also don't like how often the series gave me objectives via voice comms while I was in the middle of engagements, so when I finish, I have to go "okay, what did they say?" It's not a big deal, but I won't lie that I did get lost a non-zero number of times. You can chalk that up to a skill issue if you want, though, I'll own up to it. Again, subsequent playthroughs probably wouldn't be that bad.

I don't think I'll touch 343's run for quite a while, though, as the MCC only has 4, 5 seems to be stuck in Xbone jail, and I don't really want to get Infinite, so I'd just be walking into probably some kind of cliffhanger.

I'll leave you with a grunt having a fun time in a ghost that I caught when streaming my playthrough for some friends.

[cilil]

The Valar during meetings

ଘ Manwë

Can't get up to too many shenanigans since he's the king and has to preside over meetings

Tries to always listen attentively and with a kind smile when others are talking

Sitting next to him can be slightly hazardous due to agitated wing flapping in tough situations and the fact that the he in general is known to make a lot of wind. Complicated hairstyles are not recommended in his proximity

✧ Varda

Overall does the same as Manwë. She prefers to at least outwardly exhibit the grace and calmness befitting of a queen

However, she has been known to sometimes roast people out of nowhere and has strong opinions deep down

Makes sure to dim her light so attendance doesn't require sunglasses for all parties

࿔ Ulmo

When not absent for once, he's infamous for getting every surface and object he comes in contact with wet. Caution wet floor!

Has been known to spend a lot of time staring dreamily at Manwë

Likes to defend the Children, will never defend Melkor

⚒ Aulë

Reluctantly leaves his hammer and tools at home, doesn't like sitting idle for too long. Would totally be late and forget about meetings if not for Yavanna

Hides gemstones in his pockets that he can admire and play with during meetings

Also likes bringing gifts for his fellow Valar, all self-made of course

☘ Yavanna

Has strong opinions and voices them. Never bored during meetings, there's always something on her agenda

Uses the opportunity to check on the Trees/laments their death after their destruction and curses Melkor's name

Loves seeing her fellow Valier and chatting with everyone in general

❀ Vána

Finds herself incapable of not making flowers sprout everywhere she goes, but the others assure her it's fine

Braids flowers into other people's hair when she gets bored

Tries to lighten the mood together with Nessa

♘ Oromë

Still slightly salty that horses aren't allowed in the Ring of Doom

Prefers action over long talks and volunteers for any sort of scouting, hunting or fighting mission

Checks and repairs his hunting equipment or plays with his trophies when he gets bored

𖦹 Nessa

Unable to sit still for extended periods of time. Has been known to start dancing on her seat or around the Ring of Doom

Occasionally uses Tulkas or Oromë as a prop for acrobatics

Best friends with Vána and always super excited to see her. Sometimes they dance together instead of participating in "boring" debates

✺ Tulkas

Wants to fight stuff all the time and openly says so. Can occasionally get loud and belligerent, especially when Melkor is involved

Is not taken too seriously by most others since it's common knowledge that he isn't exactly the brightest

Also happily volunteers when it comes to taking action, enjoys hanging out with Oromë

☯ Námo

Silently judges everything and everyone. Isn't allowed to share his knowledge of the future unless prompted by Manwë

Can occasionally not help himself and makes little comments in-between. These can range from standard acknowledgement of what people have said to mildly confusing to dropping a bomb

Remembers everything

୨୧ Vairë

Needs to keep her hands occupied. Can usually be seen knitting, crocheting, embroidering, whatever she feels like that day

Otherwise fairly calm and quiet, usually just listens

Provides pillows and blankets for everyone's comfort as well as deliberately ugly sweaters

☾ Irmo

Usually sleeps on someone's lap, mostly Estë's or Námo's

Can get a little whiny when woken up during nap time, which will also invoke his siblings' wrath. The others have given up on scolding him and just let him be

Easily distracted when awake and often daydreaming. However, when his opinion is needed or he has an issue to address, he will reliably do so

ꨄ︎ Estë

Enjoys holding her fluffy little emotional support Irmo. May also be sleepy during the day since that's her designated nap time, sometimes sleeps alongside him

Occasionally voices concerns about the health and safety of affected parties, otherwise content to just quietly cuddle

Always happy to meet her family and check up on everyone

♥︎ Nienna

Has been known to cry a lot which intensifies the wet floor issues caused by Ulmo

Nevertheless very calm, collected and articulate, provides wisdom and immediately rushes to comfort everyone who needs it

Will without fail defend everyone and make sure they all have a voice and someone speaking on their behalf. Firmly believes in healing and redemption and doesn't care if others think she's crazy

⛧ Melkor

Permanently banned from participating

Suits him just fine as he hates sitting still and listening to others for too long

If he was ever invited he was trolling everyone all the time and being the biggest contrarian just because he can

[fortune-maiden]

TGCF Revised: Black Water Arc

Since I wrote up a list of differences for the QuanYin flashback may as well do one for the BW arc too for reference

Since I also had a rare opportunity to listen to the AD thanks to some very kind friends, I'm also noting any AD differences I catch

(incomplete for now as I was mostly skimming)

- The bit about SQX setting the mood with a spell is cut.

- The Story of XL's first encounter with the Venerable of Empty Words has changed. There's no wedding or beauty contest involved, just a talented young woman who's skilled at poetry and calligraphy the VoEW curses into breaking her wrist. Also, rather then just beating it up, XL also stuffs it into a pickle jar and buries it. Beautiful. (Overall I like this new version of the story a lot though It also removes the bit about XL crashing a carriage to fulfill the curse... huh doesn't that imply the VoEW's curses are absolutes?)

- a couple of new lines are added about SWD in SQX’s backstory. first is that his personality and aura made most evil spirits avoid him (which sounds hilarious imo). The second is that after the RoEW reappeared SWD tries to stay by SQX’s side as much as possible but there were inevitably times when he’d fail to protect him (this was previously an authors note so it’s nice to see it in the text)

- AUDIO DRAMA CHANGE: MNQ shows up to deliver his warning about SQX during the one month party rather than at his birth. It’s still the same as before in the novel though

- more minor audio drama change but I was salty about it so: the ad implied that only LW & SWD were hanging out the night SQX heard the RoEW’s voice again. PM is still explicitly mentioned in the novel

- Not an actual change at all but noting it: HX's hometown is Bogu, not Fu Gu. I'm told Fu Gu is a mistranslation and mostly likely the tler misreading the characters because they're very similar (i also checked the russian tl - it's Bogu there)

- the young lord who poured wine is SQX’s actual ascension story now rather than just some incidental lore. XL even goes ‘that’s it?’ when he hears it - AUDIO DRAMA CHANGE: the young lord who poured wine is slightly different from the novel. In the novel, all we know about the person SQX's wine knocks out is that he's a thief/known bully. In the AD, he's sexually harassing a woman during his incident

- some added text when XL asks Ming Yi not to mention HC to the Three Tumors

- Minor audio drama thing that I just really love and want to share. When the Three Tumors arrive after XL sounds the alarm, the first dialogue they have upon exiting the carriage is something along the lines of: Ling Wen: Water Master, you need to stay calm Pei Ming: Let's assess the situation first (LW & PM comforting SWD - thank you AD T_T <3)

- SWD does not put SQX to sleep during his freak out (so he just drags him home kicking and screaming?)

- Originally when HC warns XL not to get involved in this case further he tells him to stay away from the Shiblings, Ming Yi, Pei Ming & Ling Wen. In the revision he only mentions the Shiblings here. (I get it, but also i like how much more of a tangled web it is in the original ;w;)

- the whole bit about FengQing trashing the divine martial avenue was cut as well as any LW scenes during this part

- SWD is explicitly behind the gold bars now (he sends a note). This also replaces LW telling XL about the gift (Don’t worry yall QYZ still gifts gold bars later 🙄)

- Originally this was XL’s second visit to the FengShui manor since he was previously there during the Mid Autumn banquet. Now it’s his first visit since he didn’t need to pick up Lang Ying

- SQX does not mention wanting to become a drifting vagabond during his fight with SWD (possibly this line got cut because a drifting vagabond career is not exactly practical for sqx in the end...)

- Added line about XL thinking the Ox looks familiar (the Ox has PM's face in this version)

- New Peixuan moment in the AD! When PM rescues and flirts with the fisherwomen we get this fisherwoman: can i know my savior's name. I - sqx: have a safe trip home. (shuts the door) pm: qingxuan, why didn't you let the lady finish? sqx: I was protecting her from you >:( (and then swd chimes in about pm's standards. it just really feels like both brothers are roasting him now and i love it.)

- It's Ming Yi rather than Hua Cheng who corrects XL about the Four Calamities vs. Four Supremes now. I guess he took offense xD

- Audio Drama has SWD say HX’s name during the ‘you’re still alive?’ ‘I’m dead’ exchange. I love this.

- HC no longer casts doubt about HX killing the Earth Master, only the fishermen getting dragged in. Single Best Change in the revised ver imo

- XL no longer mentions the name ‘He Xuan’ to Pei Ming to gauge his reaction. This is the change I'm most upset about here :(

[floweyheadcanons]

God damn, that's sad that he realized only after that fact that Clover died that he cares for them. How did he cope with that fact? Does he fall any resentment about the fact that Frisk got to live instead of Clover? (Or in Undertale Red and Yellow, is he happy he has them back?)

(MY BOYYYYY!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!! I HUG YOU FLOWER FRIEND!!!!! YOU AMAZING!!!!!!)

🌹

I think he'd probably cope by trying to distract himself from what happened to Clover, distancing himself from their old friends (except dalv, dalv is cool) and overall trying to think about them as little as possible.

I want to at some point make a post undertale yellow Flowey (idc that it's a prequel, flowey would've been different if he had met clover) that yk is more in depth. I think Frisk would indirectly remind him a lot of Clover and he kinda hates them for it.

I think in his darkest moments he'd taunt them about how their friends don't really care about them and are fully willing to let them die for the "greater good" because he'd be very salty about what happened to Clover. He'd be so pissed that people are trying to stop Frisk from dying when no one cared to do that for Clover, what makes Frisk so special anyway?

(idk much about undertale red & yellow, excuse me if i get anything lore innacurate) In the case of Undertale Red and Yellow he'd be so surprised because "omg both of my best friends are here?!?!" he probably ignores Frisk more and tries to talk to Clover and Chara. Just the sort of situation that's like "I don't care about you, I'm only bothering you because you have ghosts tied to your soul that are my dead friends."

Sadly, no psst today...