#pride and passion chapter 22

[vivid-ink]

'The Love Shack' Part IV - Haunted by You (Teaser Snippet)

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22)

Snippet summary: It seemed like such a simple plan to execute: Stay away from Neteyam, distract yourself with other males and move on… But your body seems determined to fight you every step of the way, longing for the touch of a man you are desperate to forget… Your mind is haunted with memories of him, and the only place you seem able to find your pleasure is when you’re alone, drowning in your fantasies and pretending your touch is his…

Warnings: Adult content 18+ MDNI, masturbation, sex toy use

Author's Note: Here's a naughty little teaser snippet for Part IV of 'The Love Shack'! 😉 There will be another Sully brother threesome in the full chapter too, which I hope to upload next weekend. You just can't seem to get Neteyam out of your head, can you? 😜 Enjoy this little homage to self-love.

“Thanks for walking me home.” You pushed onto the balls of your feet to brush a kiss of gratitude against Kai’s cheek.

“Don’t mention it. Goodnight Neyomi, sleep well.” Dissatisfied though with your chaste farewell, one of Kai’s hands caught your elbow and he pulled you towards him to claim a proper kiss against your lips.

They were smooth and warm, comforting, but also entirely wrong…

Kai’s kisses didn’t spark passion within you, they didn’t make your heart skip a beat or make your stomach flutter with need. His kisses were too soft, almost tentative at times as if he didn’t want to scare you. It wasn’t what you craved. You craved confidence, sure hands and sure lips that consumed you entirely as they set your body ablaze with desire.

You forced as genuine a smile as you could at Kai as you pulled away to disappear into your family’s shelter, “Goodnight, same to you.”

Your parents would be asleep by now, but you still skulked through your home on silent feet towards the little alcove that was your own private space in the shelter. You were the youngest of three siblings and your two older brothers had left home several years ago after getting mated. It made home seem less lively than you remembered as a child, but you were thankful for the lack of people about now.

Less people at home meant less chance of someone overhearing what you were about to do.

You hadn’t found satisfaction with Kai tonight and your body still burned with the need to be satiated.

Hidden now in the privacy of your alcove, you double-checked that the thick cloths that hung from its entryway were tied and fastened to keep them closed and you lit the small oil lamp that hung in the corner. Little needles of shame pricked in your gut as you unfastened the ties your hips and behind your back, letting your loincloth fall while you shimmied out of your chest piece.

You weren’t ashamed of touching yourself, that part was natural. It was the shame of the entire conundrum you found yourself in that made your face flame. You’d been seeing Kai casually for just over a moon now and while your encounters with him were pleasant, and his touch felt good, your traitorous mind refused to forget the other man who your heart yearned for. Your body refused to submit to Kai’s touch and it denied you the height of pleasure with him as a result.

Kai tried, truly. It wasn’t lack of enthusiasm or skill on his part. It just didn’t feel the same. He simply wasn’t Neteyam. So, to avoid the certainty of awkward conversations and to save Kai’s pride, you’d faked your pleasure with him from the beginning. How low you had sunk…

It had been Tula’s suggestion to distance yourself and try to connect with other males.

Near distraught at the doom you felt after the night you’d shared with Neteyam, you’d spilled the entire truth to your best friend the next evening. Tula had looked on with a myriad of emotions and reactions as you relayed your story from start to finish; of your secret arrangement with the brothers, of the unadulterated bliss you found with them, and the subsequent crash and burn of your emotions for Neteyam at the end. You’d thought you could keep things simple, keep the lines clearly drawn between pleasure and emotion, but you’d failed ultimately.

Beautiful soul that she was, Tula hadn’t judged you, only comforted and consoled you before advising you of what you already knew you had to do. Put space between you and Neteyam, end the arrangement with him and Lo’ak, and try to move on. But alas it wasn’t working…

Sinking down to sit on your heels with your knees splayed, one of your hands snaked downward to its destination between your parted thighs. Licking your lips, you let your head loll backwards, eyelids sliding shut as your fingers smoothed through your still soaked folds. Your pussy throbbed, appreciating the repeated stroke of your fingers delving into its slick depths, alternating with a sensual massage over the swollen nub of your clit. You were helpless to stop the torrent of images and memories of Neteyam that swamped your mind; the feel of him suckling at your nipples; the feel of his longer, thicker fingers stroking in and out of your pussy; the ravenous look in his amber eyes as he looked at you while his tongue and lips wrought pleasurable havoc at your core.

Rolling a nipple between the fingers of your free hand, the dual stimulation made your pussy squeeze and pulse desperately for something to fill it. The three fingers you had buried to your last knuckle inside you weren’t cutting it and you needed something bigger. Your eyes travelled to the neatly piled heap of your belongings on your right where a cloth-covered satchel sat.

Pausing in your pleasure, you reached for the satchel and undid the fastening at its front to flip it open. Rummaging through it, it didn’t take long for your hand to grasp hold of what you were looking for.

Long, girthy and weighty in your palm, the blue toy was a striking replica of a Na’vi cock. It was called a dildo apparently and its use was obvious to you from the first time you’d laid eyes on it. You’d filched the toy from the toy box at the shack many weeks ago when the brothers hadn’t been looking. If they had noticed its absence since, they hadn’t remarked on it.

Heat pooled between your legs and you could feel your slick dripping from you in anticipation as you turned the dildo over in your hands. It wasn’t as smooth or as seamlessly designed as the other toys you’d been introduced to, and it didn’t hum, but by Eywa did it feel fucking good with its bulbous head and its ridged shaft. The dildo had a flanged base where it could suction to a flat surface and you reached towards your pile of belongings again for its accompanying aid.

Gingerly, so you didn’t make a sound, you extracted a long and shallow wooden serving platter from the pile. You turned it upside down so the smooth wood of its polished base was turned upwards towards you and placed it between your thighs. A wave of embarrassment washed over you again as you positioned the dildo on the platter so you could mount it.

Great Mother, your mother would kill you if she knew what you were doing with her serveware…

Lifting your hips and shuffling forward on your knees, you let the head of the dildo smooth past your folds, lubricating it. You were so wet that you knew the impressive size of the toy would be no issue upon entry. Aligning it with one hand, you let your weight bear down on it and your other hand flew to your mouth to stifle a muted cry as it breached you.

The stretch of it entering you was rapturous and your aching pussy eagerly swallowed its length whole, your inner walls squeezing appreciatively around its fulfilling girth until you bottomed out. It wasn’t warm with body heat and it wasn’t attached to your man of choice, but it was a close second. You undulated your hips, testing the feel of things, and when unfettered ripples of pleasure shot through your core at the movement you instinctively began a rhythm of gyrating hip thrusts.

Your fingers circled at your clit while you moved, your body rippling back and forth in time with the slight up and down of your hips. Your thighs burned with the exertion, but your pussy burned even more torturously as your climax came hurtling towards you. An unbidden fantasy of Neteyam groaning beneath you plastered itself to the back of your closed eyelids. You rode him wildly, imagined the feel of his fingers digging into your hips while you worked his hard cock in and out of you. You could see the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the shine of it over his flexing abdominals as he panted and strained with you. And then you felt the familiar burn of urgent pressure low in your pelvis.

It was like an old friend that had come by to visit. The urgent pressure mingled with the pulsating of your pussy and it thrilled you because you knew what it signalled, what was coming. You hadn’t felt this sensation in weeks, not since your last session at the shack when Neteyam had pinned you beneath him and drilled into you from behind with your face pushed into the plush bedding. Your encounters with Kai hadn’t even come close to the mounting bliss you were feeling now.

Caressing one of your breasts and stroking over the nipple one last time, you flew over the edge of ecstasy into freefall. Your face scrunched tight and you fought to remain quiet while your core clenched and pulsed with orgasm. Your inner walls had a crushing hold on the dildo, gripping it within you and your pussy gave a cathartic little squirt of pleasure. Chest heaving with panting breaths, your vision cleared as you opened your eyes, the last image your mind supplied was one of Neteyam smiling sleepily up at you.

The furnishings of the alcove swirled around you, the flickering flame in the oil lamp casting warm shadows about the place. You were alone in your alcove and you’d once again touched yourself to imaginings of a man you were supposed to be trying to forget. A juddery sigh of defeat left you and you flopped over onto your side, rolling onto your back so you could press your fingers firmly against your eye sockets.

The futility of the situation began to overwhelm you and you felt hot tears sting behind your closed eyes. Try as hard as you might, your little plan of ‘move on and forget’ wasn’t working. Kai was a wonderful man, skilled, respected and honourable. You enjoyed his company and everything about him showed real promise that he could be a good mate for you. But the heart wanted what it wanted, and it was Neteyam that your heart soared and longed for.

You hiccupped as sobs began to wrack your frame then. Your hands were pressed tight over your face and your palms grew wet from the streams of your tears. A smothered snuffle snuck its way out from behind the cage of your fingers and you fought to keep any more from escaping. The lump in your throat hurt and you swallowed it down stickily.

It said a lot that you found your sobs harder to stifle than your moans of bliss.

If only you’d kept your distance from the beginning. In hindsight, it would’ve been easier for you to have never known Neteyam like you now did, and to just have watched, daydreaming from afar. But too late now.

You’d made your bed and now you had to lie in it.

***~~~***

If you are new to this work & are intrigued, you will find the first three parts as follows: Part I, Part II, Part III

Author's Note: I'll be honest, I got quite hot writing this. I can only imagine what I'll go through composing the Sully bro threesome next... 🫢 Let me know if you're not already on it and you'd like to be added to my taglist for this work. 😘

Taglist: @teymars @eyweveng @leaveitbythewave @luvteyams @akiras-key @bajbr @qcswrites @reggiesslut @neteluvr @savvysscandles @dasaniix @emery-333 @vintaqestar @live-laugh-neteyam @itssomeonereading @strawberry-vamp0 @delacruzyari @bluecooki3 @frustrated-kitten @innercreationflower @wheneclipsefalls @iameatingmyhair  @ele-sme @investedreader @oasiswithmyg @daeneeryss @pandorxxx @anonka01 @hunbomb @pandoraslxna @adrianarose7 @sunghoonmyluv @notnat02 @getthisoverwith33 @simp4myself @spicymayyo @animehoe1-800 @daddysmurfslefttoenail @iman-lu @creepytoes88 @flyingspacewhale @neteyamswifesworld @lostress101 @nilsavatar @solemnlover @asweetblueberry2 @blue-slxt

[chuckeroo777]

Frieren Liveblog- Chapters 21-24

Last time, Fern demonstrated that she is the fastest staff in the west, while Stark realized that he can, in fact, defeat a little girl in strength-based combat.

Wait, what? Are Frieren and Fern using some sort of forbidden technique to enhance their power? How deplorab-

I can't even finish that thought without laughing. I am a Marcille fan after-all. As long as they aren't harnessing unwilling souls or something, it's probably fine.

Oh geez, I guess this explains Frieren's outlook on life. Everyone she cared about died in this attack.

Good thing Flamme found her and thought her... something. I have a bad feeling about this.

I guess that explains why they are on the verge of extinction. And why Frieren hates demons with such passion.

I just think she's neat.

So that's the trick. Demons are prideful powerscaling idiots, so just make yourself look weak, and you can overpower them with ease. A bit underhanded to be sure, but it's no less ethical than a rogue using shadows to their advantage.

Oh. OH! Is this going, where I think it's going? Aura's about to mess up big time, and we're gonna get the demon lady on our team!

Maybe. Guess I'll flip to chapter 22 to see if I'm right.

Ah, so there is a distinction. I imagine the more physical threats we've faced were normal monsters, while spellcasters like Qual are demons.

We know Himmel fanned the flames later on, but I wonder if this is the moment Frieren gained her fascination with niche magic.

Did Frieren disguise herself as a human? Or is this an art error? It's only in this one panel, so I imagine the latter.

Yes, it's definitely because you recognize her as a powerful mage, and not because it was love at first sight.

What.

WHAT.

WHAT????

My disappointment is immeasurable, and my day is ruined.

Frieren, don't think a cute moment where you finally commend your companions will make me forgive you. I was so looking forward to having a begrudging demon mage in the party.

Don't worry, Frieren has the finest collection of fake Flamme grimoires the world has ever seen.

Yeah, yeah, funny times a plenty for you, I'm sure. If only you weren't so quick to order beheadings.

God, I love these idiots. Maybe I can find it in my heart to forgive them.

All the best mages are quasi-legal.

Gee, if only you had a cool demon mage to keep you warm with fire magic or something.

An important image.

So cold Fern. Get it? Ok, I'll stop.

Gently yoink the elf.

Just because he isn't wearing a shirt doesn't mean he's a pervert. Though, with how rare elves are, I have a bad feeling I know where this conversation is going.

A precious image.

Hoo boy. Let's see how bad this goes. Keep the spray bottle ready Fern.

You know, I'm currently also reading My Hero Academia. It's pretty interesting, though the sexist undercurrents are... questionable. Frieren follows some basic gender role stereotypes, with our warrior being male and the mages being female, but outside that, this manga treats its women very kindly. It's quite refreshing after having to read Mineta's shenanigans over and over again.

It's kinda obvious how you use way more mana than you seem to have total. Demons are just too prideful to notice.

Huh. How about that. Turns out Kraft wasn't a pervert after all. I wonder if this is the last we see of him?

And that's it for now! Quite exciting, though I'm still quite upset at Kanehito Yamada for not making Aura part of the party.

Ah well, there's still, like, six more demon generals. Maybe one of them can join the team.

[spacesapphi]

"Moving Forward and Spiraling Downard"

GUYS... first multichapter SDV fic has been started, chapter 1 is on AO3!

This one is mostly a Shane-centric fic (hooray!!) and follows his life leading up to the main events of the game, from the time when his best friends had passed and left him to raise Jas (not hooray!!)

CW for this chapter specifically lays in a lot of talk of death, funerals, and hospital settings

AO3 link is here:

Moving Forward and Spiraling Downward - Chapter 1 - SapphiresStars - Stardew Valley (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]

Tumblr version below the cut:

Hell was the only proper way to describe where Shane was now. But even still, that felt like too weak of a word for what he was going through. His 25th birthday should’ve been the best night of his life. It was the best night of his life, at least it was until one selfish, stupid person stole it all away from him. His best friends in this world, Jason and Amelia, gifted him tickets to go see the Tunnelers in the last game before finals. They were going to go as a group, him, them, and their little girl Jas. The game was perfect by all measures, a historical 22-1 win for their favorite team, and in the semi-finals no less! The four of them were absolutely bursting with adrenaline and joy, nothing could’ve made the night any more perfect!

For a moment, everything was just right, and for once Shane didn’t feel some kind of looming sense of dread. He was with his friends, his family, and everything was good. He was happy. But on the ride home, one selfish act destroyed all of it. None of them had enough time to react. Before they knew it, the heat of a truck's headlights was upon them, barreling into their car at a grotesque speed. The last thing he could remember was instinctively lunging over to protect Jas's car seat, then it all went black. The next thing he knew, he was waking up in the hospital, his aunt Marnie at his side, and his life was changed permanently. His drea, of going pro at gridball was dead now, an injury he sustained to his knee made sure of it. He would never play again, the biggest passion in his life torn from him. But even worse, the absolute nightmare of it all, was that Jason and Amelia were gone.

Now, everything was completely upside down. It was wrong, it wasn’t fair. If Yoba was real, though Shane was now certain they weren’t, they didn’t care about him. They didn’t love him. Aunt Marnie raised him to believe in a “kind and forgiving” deity from a young age, but any god that would do this didn’t deserve to be seen as kind.The last shred of his belief had withered away, and was replaced with an unrelenting anger. If Yoba existed, he hated them.

And hearing all the empty platitudes from those around him, oh how it made him want to snap. He didn’t want to hear another person talk about how this was “Yoba’s plan” or tell him that they were in a “better place”. How could any deity worth worshiping plan to steal away the lives of 2 innocent people, and let the bastard that killed them live? What place could possibly be better than sitting at home, raising their daughter and being his friend?

It had been a week now since it all happened, and today was Shane’s first day home from the hospital. The pain, both emotional and physical, was still unbearable. He could barely look at himself now, avoiding any mirror he could to ignore the haunting way he looked now. His long hair that he was so proud of had been cut incredibly short, deep gashes on his head stitched and throbbing in pain. Marnie had done her best to shape it up, keep as much hair as she could while making the style look intentional, but he still hated it. It wasn’t him. Just one more thing the accident took, he supposed. Why stop at taking his friends? Take his dream, his identity, his pride, along with it. He didn’t care anymore.

Before the accident, Shane’s apartment was always very bare bones. Only the most necessary furniture was inside, not much decoration besides the occasional piece of gridball memorabilia, and the folk art Marnie insisted he take with him so he “wouldn’t forget his roots”. But now, the little studio flat was stuffed from wall to wall with baby items. He had taken everything he knew Jas needed when cleaning out Jason and Amelia’s place this morning, her furniture, clothes, toys, and dishes. Every counter and spare space was filled with her belongings, and he was still in awe with just how much one baby could need.

The poor thing was curled up on his chest, wailing pitifully as he tried his best to comfort her. Nothing Shane did seemed to calm her down, her cries only getting more piercing by the hour. He was growing frustrated, fighting back the urge to cry himself. He had no idea what he was doing, as much as he wished he did. Maybe it was a mistake for those two to have trusted him to be a godfather. How good of a guardian could he be if he couldn’t even get her to stop crying? How good could her life be, living in this tiny apartment? He could feel his mind begin to spiral, the self doubt and anxiety bubbling over, until a gentle hand touched his shoulder.

“Let me see her, schatz, you look tired,” Marnie spoke, voice soft and sympathetic. She took the fussing baby, listening to her cries for just a moment, then holding her so she was laying on her side. Like magic, Jas seemed to calm down almost instantly, her shrieks replaced by discontent whines.

“Holy shit, how did you do that?” Shane sighed, leaning back into his seat. He looked frustrated, and incredibly embarrassed. He couldn’t calm her down to save his life, but here his aunt was, doing it in seconds. Marnie smiled sweetly, looking down at the baby in her arms, “There’s different sounds babies make when they cry, it’s slight but it’ll help you know what she wants. That little “owh” sound means she’s just tired, holding her like this helps.”

“How did you even figure that out?” Shane questioned, “I've been trying everything and she just… kept crying.”

“Raising you, mostly… Learned a lot that way,” Marnie mused, “You’ll catch on fast, I promise.”

“What if I don’t?” Shane mumbled, wringing his hands, “I have no clue what I’m doing, aendi… what if I mess this all up?”

“No one does at first…” Marnie assured, “But you’ll both be just fine, I know it.”

Jas finally closed her eyes, face scrunching as she yawned and finally drifted off to sleep. It was the first time in hours that she was resting, and both Shane and Marnie were relieved beyond measure. Getting everything brought to the apartment and setting up was already difficult enough considering Shane’s injuries, and even harder with how fussy Jas had been. It was a miracle they were able to get everything they needed done today.

Shane just hoped she wouldn’t cry too much tomorrow. He would be doing enough for the both of them, that was for sure. It was the day he had been dreading all week, the day of the funeral. Preparations had been a nightmare. His friends were a lot like him, little to no family, all either passed on or estranged, so all planning fell square onto his shoulders. Having to fill out all of that paperwork, choosing the final resting places for the closest thing he had to siblings, all while hospitalized no less, it was too much. This shouldn’t have happened now, they were all in their 20’s, they were so young. Too young.

Having his aunt here helped, though. Marnie had been his saving grace through it all, helping him get everything set up for Jas, showing him how to do things like make bottles, watching her when he needed a break, she was an absolute angel. Most importantly though, she let him talk about everything. Every moment he needed someone to lean on, someone to listen, she was right by his side. After all, she had been through nearly the same thing 20 years ago when his mom passed. If anyone understood what he was going through right now, it was her.

“I think it’s time we slept too. You’ll need the rest…” Marnie mused, looking out to the dark night sky through the window, "I'll need to be back at the hotel soon."

Shane nodded slowly, rising from his spot on the sofa. He winced as a shock of pain ran through his knee, nearly making him stumble, “Yeah… I’m sorry I don’t have a room for you to sleep here…”

“Don’t you worry about that, the hotel’s been just fine,” Marnie assured. She handed Jas over to him, both of them praying the shift wouldn’t wake her.

“You’re coming to the funeral tomorrow, right?” Shane questioned, a sense of unease in his voice.

Marnie nodded, her expression turning solemn, “Of course… I would never make you go through that alone, schatz,”

She hugged the two of them tight, not wanting to let go. He didn’t want her to let go either. Marnie knew she’d have to leave after tomorrow, go back home to her lonely house in the valley, leave Shane here alone to figure everything out. Oh, how she wished things were different, that they had left the game just a few moments earlier that night. If they did, maybe all of them would still be here. But they didn’t, and they weren’t. Nothing would ever be the same again, for her, Shane, or Jas, and that’s the part she mourned the most. No matter how good the future could be, this event would loom over them for the rest of their lives, casting a shadow over even the happiest moments. She reluctantly pulled away from the hug, giving Shane one last empathetic look before turning towards the door.

Marnie left quietly, whispering a soft “goodbye” and leaving for the night. He’d been dreading this, the first night fully alone. When Marnie was helping with Jas, or just listening to him, he could distract himself to some extent. He could think of something besides the medical bills on their way, his injury, and the fact that he had no one else in this city. But now there was nothing to distract him from his thoughts, nothing but the siren call of sleep. He turned off the lights, leaving only the little lamp on the coffee table lit, and made his way to Jas’ crib. Holding his breath, he carefully lowered her down onto the cot, fearing any sudden movement would jolt her awake. He let a relieved sigh escape him when she didn’t.

Climbing into his own bed barely a foot from the crib, he stared at the ceiling with a vacant expression. Everything had been moving so fast, but felt like it was slow motion all the same. Being discharged, cleaning out the apartment, making all the preparations, and now raising a baby. He remembered just how honored he was when Jason asked him to be Jas’ godfather, just how proud and excited it made him feel to be that important to them. It was a beautiful sentiment, and he had hoped it would just stay that way, just a sentiment. Never in his life would he have wished for this role to be fulfilled .

He had always thought it would be the three of them, staying together through it all. They were a strange, ragtag bunch but family to him nonetheless. Hell, even Marnie doted on them. She saw Jason and Amelia as family by extension, offering her home on holidays and special events when they had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. There was a gaping hole in their hearts now, a piece of themselves and their family that they could never get back. Good things rarely stayed in his life forever, it was a fact he had come to accept, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

As he drifted off to sleep, images from the night of his birthday kept invading his mind. He couldn’t tell which parts were memories, which ones he made up. No matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn’t wake up, continuing to live the moment everything was destroyed over and over again. He kept dreaming of different scenarios, ones where they all survived, or at least one of them surviving with him. But the scenario that gave him the most peace, for a reason he couldn’t quite place, was the one where he was the only one that died. Shane didn’t feel grateful or glad for surviving. He felt guilt, overwhelming, soul crushing guilt. He felt his dream was a way to atone for it, a necessary pain to suffer through as the price of living.

Getting ready the next morning was surreal to say the least. Shane had exactly one suit, the one he inherited from his grandfather. It was entirely ill-fitting and out of date,  but it would have to do for today. Looking into the mirror made him grimace. What a sight for sore eyes he was. His face was pale and gaunt, dark circles already forming beneath his eyes. He looked nothing like himself, and he felt disgusting. The only thing worse was seeing Jas dressed for the funeral, a black dress with little puffed sleeves and buckle-up shoes. She was so young, just under a year, she shouldn’t have to be here, sitting at her parents’ funeral. Just seeing her made him want to sob. It was yet another cruel reminder of just how unfair, how fucked up, this entire situation was.

Then seeing everything put together, the funeral hall decorated, soft hymnals playing on speakers, and the mourners shuffling in, it made him sick. The caskets were closed, not even allowing him to see the faces of the people who had made life worth living one last time. He didn’t even want to begin thinking of why it needed to be closed casket, and a part of him selfishly was relieved that it was. Maybe they weren’t even inside, maybe this had all been some awful, despicable joke, and any moment they would walk out to greet him like nothing happened. He would be angry, furious with them, sure, but it would be better than the absolute soul crushing reality he faced.

Two bouquets sat cradled in his arms, one for each of his friends. It was a sappy gesture, and one that wouldn’t be expected coming from him, but he felt he needed to. It was the one thing about all of this that felt right.

Jason loved daffodils. Shane remembered back to a day when the two of them were at practice, resting for a lunch break. Jason had excitedly shown him a small patch of the flowers underneath the bleachers in their college’s gridball arena, a little patch of sunshine where there was only darkness. It was a lot like Jason in that way. Shane had visited the patch one last time on the drive over, sneaking in to pick the best and the brightest of the bunch to send off his dearest friend.

And for Amelia, an arrangement of fairy roses. She absolutely adored them, talking at length about the old folk tales about them attracting fairies, Junimos, and all sorts of mythical creatures. Amelia loved a good fantasy, and saw everything in life through a beautiful, magical lens. He remembered staying over at their place for the night, listening to her read off little fables and fairy stories to Jas to get her to sleep. She had the brightest, most excited, voice when it came to storytelling. Shane was going to miss that so much.

He placed the bouquets on their respective caskets, looking upon them with a pained expression, “I’m going to do right by you… I’ll make sure Jas is taken care of, don’t you worry.” he whispered. There was only silence in response. Deafening silence.

He turned back to look at the seating area, seeing how pitifully empty it was. In the front there was Marnie, dressed in a dark gown, holding Jas on her lap. She was trying her best to keep the baby distracted for now, bouncing her up and down, and speaking in a silly, quiet voice to get the baby to not fuss. Further back were a handful of old teammates from his and Jason’s varsity gridball team, men whose faces he barely remembered now. They looked shaken, speaking in soft whispers amongst themselves. Shane wasn’t the best of friends with them, falling out of touch after graduation, but he knew Jason was close with quite a few. Unlike him, that man was always the social butterfly. Two girls had shown up for Amelia, some highschool friends she sometimes invited to hangouts. He didn’t know them too well but appreciated them coming even still. It was pitiful how little they had though, how few people were in their lives that the hall could be this empty. They deserved so much more, they deserved the world.

There was a sudden tap on his shoulder, making him jump. Shane turned to his left, looking up to see the director standing just beside him.

“I’m sorry sir, but if you’d like to give some final words, now's the time,” the director motioned a hand over to the decorated podium standing just in front of the caskets. Shane swallowed, nodding slowly before making his way up to the podium. He grasped the solid wood frame with clammy hands, looking out onto the small crowd. They looked at him, expecting expressions upon their faces. But he had nothing planned, nothing written. Where would he have found the time? All he had was what he felt in his heart, and that would have to do.

“I couldn’t say enough about Jason and Amelia. They meant the world to me… I don’t know how I would’ve survived moving here if it weren’t for them. Being their friend changed my life for the best, and I wouldn’t be the man I am now without them. They made life worth living. Amelia was so smart, she was going places… Jason too. They were amazing people, and even better parents. Every day’s been awful without them. I hope they knew how much they were loved. I never had siblings, but I think they were the closest thing to it. They were good people, great people, and I’ll never stop missing them. ”

Shane took a shaky deep breath, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise on his face. He knew that was no good, no proper way to send off some of the most important people in his life, but he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t bring himself to say another word. Giving a short nod, he stepped down from the platform, returning swiftly to his seat next to Marnie, bouncing his leg anxiously. She gave him a sympathetic smile, taking his hand, “You did great…”

“Be honest, that was awful,” Shane whispered bitterly, “I-I didn’t have time to prepare anything..”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, you did your best,” Marnie’s voice was sweet, that motherly tone that always seemed to calm his nerves. It didn’t help much now, though.

Tiny hands grabbed at his sleeves, Jas making babbling noises as she reached out for him. Her purple eyes were focused on him, a little smile on her face. He forced a smile back, taking her in his arms. The baby babbled away, waving her hands around excitedly. It was adorable, but just so jarring. The poor girl had no idea what was going on, what scene was laying in front of her. Maybe that was for the best, but looking behind her to see those caskets laying there, her parents inside, was such a hard blow.

In just a few moments, workers shuffled in, ushers speaking to the other guests. It was just about time to go, to head to the final resting sites. Oh, how he dreaded it. The car ride there was hell, and so was the ceremony that accompanied the burial. It was so… wrong. He just couldn’t shake the thoughts of their faces, their laughs and excited chatting in the car. They should be here now, hanging out with him at their apartment, sitting around the tv and putting on the finals, cheering on their favorite team with him. But that wasn’t possible, not anymore. Seeing that final bit of dirt being packed on top of their gravesite pulled him out of the denial stage. It felt completely real for the first time, and that little glimmer of wishful thinking that this was all a nightmare was snuffed out. He stood close to Marnie, feeling her wrap an arm around his back as they looked upon the site. It was just them and Jas standing there now, the other mourners long gone at this point. His leg was killing him, an ache growing from standing so long, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the site.

“I can stay longer, if you need me to.” Marnie offered, looking at him earnestly.

Shane shook his head, “No, you’ve got the ranch at home, they all need you there…”

“Then come back to the valley! Everyone misses you, especially Emily. She was heartbroken when she heard what happened, she’s been asking about you.”

Shane furrowed his brow, “You told Emily?”

“Not on purpose… She was around when I got the call that…” Marnie trailed off, shuddering at the memory of that night in the hospital, “Just come home, Shane…”

He opened his mouth to respond, but quickly closed it, grimacing. He wanted nothing more than to take up the offer, to run into her arms crying like he was a little kid again and go back home. But what was there waiting for him? He had debts that were slowly piling up, expenses to be accounted for, and there wasn’t exactly a surplus of jobs back in the valley. Marnie had told him all about how local businesses were struggling with some fancy new corporation trying to encroach on the area. He wouldn’t be able to survive there, and he sure as hell wouldn’t take a handout at his aunt's expense.. He shook his head, mumbling softly, “I’ll think about it…”

“You know my door is always open…” Marnie gave him an encouraging look, “If you change your mind, just come home.”

Shane nodded solemnly, finally letting tears escape his eyes. He tried so hard today to keep himself together, so hard to be the strong person that could handle this. The reality of his situation finally fell square on his shoulders, the weight crushing him

“It should’ve been me…” he choked out, “I wish it was…”

“Schatz…” Marnie started, a slight scold in her voice, “Don’t say that, please.”

“I just…” Shane took a deep, warbling breath, wiping the tears off his cheeks with his sleeve, “If it was me, Jas would still have them.. She needs them, I can’t replace her parents.. They’re her only family…”

“You’re my only family too.” Marnie reminded him, “Do you know how devastated I was when I got that call? I was so scared you’d be gone by the time I got to the hospital. I already lost your opa and your mom, I can’t lose you too.”

Shane’s face was stoic, face still wet from tears, “How did you… How did you get yourself back together after she died? How did you get over it?”

“Well, having 20 years to process it helps,” Marnie mused, “But I never got over it, and I don’t think I ever will. And as much as it hurts to tell you, you’ll never get over this either.”

Shane scoffed bitterly, “Well thanks, that’s good to know…”

“What I’m trying to say is, it won’t go away, but it does get easier... Your life won’t be the same anymore, but one day you’ll be okay.”

Her nephew turned to her, his bright green eyes glossy and red, “What do I do until then?”

Marnie pulled him into a tight embrace, feeling tears bite at her eyes, “You cry….”

[bobbyseyesmile]

Pride and Passion | 22

Chapter 22

A/N: short chapter, i apologize! still trying to get back on my feet but i finally have the energy for writing again :) Thank you for all the sweet get well wishes and the patience! hope you enjoy!

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You nervously bit on your thumbnail when you saw the big black van entering through Alexandria’s gates; it has only been five days since you last saw Negan but you were longing to see him again. Those few days felt like years even though you were still a bit mad at him.

You walked towards the van and raised your eyebrows in surprise when you saw Dwight and some of Negan’s men but not the leader himself.

“Hey.” Dwight gave you a quick smile but it disappeared when he noticed your confused expression. “You alright?”

“Sure.” You answered and put a hand on your hips in order to seem confident. “So, Negan’s not around?”

“You said a week. He gives you a week.” Dwight bit his tongue to keep himself from laughing when he saw your flustered face. “He always keeps his word, Y/N.”

“Y-yeah…” you sputtered. The disappointment was big but a warm feeling spread in your stomach because he actually listened to you. The feeling grew bigger when you walked around the vehicle and saw the full trunk. “What is this?”

“Wasn’t the alliance between Alexandria and The Sanctuary your idea? This is the stuff Negan gives you and because he already took a lot from this place, he doesn’t expect something in return for another few weeks. From now on there’s a trade system.” Dwight explained and gave you a box filled with medicine.

“Really?” you just couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your lips. A deep feeling of relieve washed over your body; Alexandria could collect new things and fill their almost emptied inventory once again. “Well… good.” You cleared your throat and raised one eyebrow “Tell him thanks.”

“He’ll be around in about two days, why not tell himself?” Dwight asked and you noticed the smirk on his lips while his eyes stayed cold.

“Yeah, whatever.” You shrugged your shoulders and turned around in order to inform your dad and the rest of the group that somewhat of easier times were around the corner.

Dwight watched you walk away when the rustling sound of the walkie talkie cut through the air and Negan’s low voice could be heard. “D?”

He grabbed the device and pushed the button to answer. “I’m here boss. Y/N just left; you can talk freely.”

“Pff-“ Negan chuckled “Fucking course I can. Why wouldn’t I even if she’s around?”

Dwight rolled his eyes. You two were worse than teenagers who just fought and now wouldn’t acknowledge the other one till they made the first move.

“Yeah, you’re right, sorry boss. The delivery was warmly welcomed in case you were curious.”

“Uh-huh, whatever. Good.” The leader cleared his throat as well. “I’ll be with you in a few days, help them unload and make yourself at home, ya hear me?”

“Yes, Negan.” Dwight let go of the button and watched you in the distance talking to Rick. Exciting times were ahead for sure.

✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤

Two days later you tried hard to seem as calm and collected as possible not wanting to give in those stupid butterflies that raged in your stomach. Carl stood beside you on the porch while you were eyeing the gates; not to close, not to far off either. In case of an arriving vehicle, you could stroll there without appearing to be too enthusiastic. Perfect.

Your brother watched you with raised eyebrows and let out a small sigh. “If you continue to bite those nails there won’t be any left.”

You let go of the thumb between your teeth and felt your cheeks heating up. “Whatever.”

“Stop acting like you don’t care. You were in a bad mood the whole week, why not just be happy that you’ll see him soon?”

“Try to grow up Carl, then you’ll understand.” You answered and received an annoyed eyeroll.

“No thanks. You grown ups are all the same.”

“Oh yeah?” your lips curled into a small smile while patiently awaiting your younger brothers so-called wisdom.

“Yeah. You’re just old teenager; still stupid but closer to dying.” Carl gave you a cheeky grin and you punched his arm in return.

“You got a death wish you little brat?! Who are you calling old?” You huffed offended but still caught yourself laughing along with him when you heard your name being called.

“Y/N!” your father yelled and gave a quick wave with his hand to get your attention. “They’re here.”

You had to physically stop yourself from running towards the gates but your legs still made some fairly large strides and you arrived just in time when you saw the cars arrive.

Negan’s eyes were closed but he wasn’t sleeping; he tried to subtly scan the area when they drove through the gates of Alexandria loudly yawning and stretching before he exited the car.

“Ah, finally.” He whispered more to himself but couldn’t hide his excitement when he saw your face in the crowd. His lips almost automatically curved into a smile, showing his pearly whites when he saw your reddened cheeks as your eyes locked with each other.

You crossed our arms in front of your chest but stumbled forward when Carl gave you a soft push. It’s not like you could hug Negan in front of the other ones, the relationships was still fairly secret but everyone knew you were the only one that had him wrapped around your little finger and you could tell him things straight to his face without getting killed.

“A week.” You finally spoke and nodded your head. “You held your word and brought stuff.”

“That I did, sweet cheeks.” He answered and you narrowed your eyes in response. “So should we tell the good people of Alexandria about the new trade system you negotiated?”

You nodded but said: “Later. They already know the facts but I would like to tell them in detail in a meeting tonight. First, we have to talk abut some… things.”

You crossed your arms once again and slightly squeezed your boobs in the process. Negan’s eyes immediately fell on your exposed cleavage and he licked his lips.

“Oh darling, I couldn’t agree more.”

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[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 20: The Twelve Sweaters of Christmas

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 1986

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Note:  This story was written for my “Christmas with Captain Swan” collection in 2020.

Note #2: *facepalm* Somehow when I originally posted this yesterday, I accidentally repeated the text of "The Gingerbread Castle", which was the rerun for day 19. As a result, I have decided to reblog this one, so you get the ACTUAL "Twelve Sweaters of Christmas"

CS Genre: AU

Killian Jones neatly folded what felt like the one-hundredth sweater today, and stacked it on top of the pile.  He prided himself on running a clean, neat, ship-shape establishment, and he hated when his clothing went askew.

Of course, given the fact that it was twelve days before Christmas, keeping things neat and tidy was a constant battle.

Killian never would have believed he’d find himself here.  He’d had a promising career in front of him.  He’d joined the Navy fresh out of high school, determined to follow in his older brother Liam’s footsteps.  Liam had been his hero, he’d been brother and father and best friend to him after their mother died and their father abandoned them.  

If only he hadn’t had to be a hero to everyone else.  When Killian was seventeen, Liam had perished at sea after a terrible storm.  He’d sacrificed his own life, saving seven of his crewmates before finally succumbing to the ocean’s fury.

After several months of aching grief, Killian had decided to live a life to make his brother proud.  He’d decided to go into the Navy himself.  He’d been a natural, taking to the water like a merman, never more content, never feeling closer to Liam than when he was out on the water.  Things were looking up.

Unfortunately, tragedies rarely come on their own.  When it rains it pours, and all that.  Two years into his naval career, Killian got into a catastrophic automobile accident.  Not only had he lost his love, his Milah, he’d also lost his hand.

And so he’d found himself alone, his promising career down the drain and with no idea what he was to do with his life.

Killian took a deep breath as he picked up yet another sweater to fold.  Such dark thoughts had no place on this beautiful, snowy day, less than a fortnight before Christmas.  Suffice it to say, after spiralling for a time, Killian had picked himself up and started on a new venture:

Revenge

He’d come across the clothing store quite by accident.  He’d been passing through the small, sea-side village of Storybrooke, Maine one day, and just happened to step into the store.  It was intriguing; had something of an edgy, pirate theme to it.  It was run by an eccentric man named Edward Teach, who went by the moniker “Blackbeard”, no doubt due to the bushy mass of facial hair he sported.

Something about the store spoke to him, excited him in a way nothing had in months.  Perhaps he could run an establishment such as this, combine a theme he was passionate about with goods people needed, and voila!  The perfect business venture.

He hadn’t been in the store ten minutes before he’d made a promise to himself: Revenge is going to be mine.

It almost felt like fate the way everything worked out after that.  As it happened, “Blackbeard” was looking to retire.  Within a month, Killian had used the last of his inheritance from Liam to purchase Revenge and make it his own.

Nearly ten years later it was still going strong.  He’d even managed to expand, turn it from something thoroughly niche into something more mainstream--while still maintaining it’s edge and it’s roots.

Revenge was Killian’s baby, and he was incredibly proud of it, and never more so than at Christmas.  He prided himself on having everything the discerning Storybrooke customer could want for their holiday clothing needs.

The bell over the door sounded, and Killian looked up to see an angel with soft waves of sun-gold hair, tight jeans and a red leather jacket walking purposely toward him.

More like stomping toward him.  The way her green eyes glittered dangerously as she approached proved that she was quite the angry angel.

She was utterly magnificent.

“Lost a bet,” she said curtly.  “Point me in the direction of your ugliest Christmas sweaters.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Emma Swan should have known better than to make a bet against Ruby, particularly about something outrageous, and if there was anything Ruby’s clothing choice today was, it was outrageous.

Emma liked Christmas--within reason.  Who didn’t like time off and peace on earth and all the holiday goodies you could eat?

But there was nothing reasonable about the sweater Ruby had chosen to wear for her shift at the diner this morning.

Emma groaned as her roommate sashayed out of her bedroom into the shared living room of their apartment..

“Ruby, it’s too early for this,” she groused.  “You look like Christmas threw all over you.”

Ruby poured herself a mug of coffee, and then sat opposite Emma on the couch.  “Hey don’t knock it.  Everybody loves a good ugly Christmas sweater.”

“More like loves to hate it,” Emma muttered.

A sudden gleam came into Ruby’s eye.  That really should have been Emma’s first clue to turn and run.  Nothing good ever came of Ruby looking at her like that.

“Wanna make a friendly wager on that?” Ruby asked.

“A wager on how many people will hate your clothing choices?”

Ruby rolled her eyes.  “The opposite.  I bet you I get more compliments today wearing this sweater than I’d get on any other day.”

“How would we even quantify that?” Emma asked.  “You usually keep count of the compliments you get?”

“Fine,” Ruby conceded.  “How about this: Come into Granny’s on your lunch break and sit in my section.  I bet you I get a genuine compliment on my sweater during your meal--totally unprompted too.”

Emma considered it.  “What are the stakes?”

Ruby thought for a minute and then smiled.  It was not a reassuring sight.  “You win, and I clean the apartment for a month.  But if I win….if I win, you have to wear an ‘ugly’ Christmas sweater every day until Christmas.”

Emma didn’t even take a moment to consider it.  Getting out of cleaning for an entire month?  So worth this bet, and it wasn’t like she was going to lose anyway.

“You’re on.”

Later that day when Emma and her partner, Sheriff Graham Humbert, stopped by the diner for lunch, they hadn’t been seated for five minutes before Emma realized she’d made a profound mistake.

“Hey guys!” Ruby smiled at them as she reached their table and pulled out her pencil and pad of paper.  “How’s your day going?  It’s been crazy around here this morning!”

“Pretty quiet at the sheriff’s station,” Graham said, smiling as he looked her over.  “That’s quite a sweater you’re wearing today, Ruby.  Very festive; I like it!”

Emma groaned as Ruby shot her a triumphant look.  Rookie mistake.  She should have known better than to bring Graham with her to lunch.  It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Graham had been more than half in love with Ruby for years.  She should have brought someone like Leroy to lunch.  She doubted that man had ever complimented anyone in his life.

But Emma was a woman of her word.  She’d lost the bet fair and square, and pay up she would.

Which is why she currently found herself talking to the owner and proprietor of Revenge.  

“Lost a bet,” she said curtly.  “Point me in the direction of your ugliest Christmas sweaters.”

The man behind the desk--Killian, his name tag said--grinned at her.  “Love, I’d wager the term ugly could never be applied to you no matter what you wear or don’t wear.”

Emma rolled her eyes.  The guy was hot, she’d give him that--with his artfully messy black hair, piercing blue eyes and reddish scruff.  And all the leather.  It really should be illegal for a man to wear that much leather and to wear it so well.  Still, Emma was in no mood for being hit on--handsome man or no.

“You’re hilarious,” she said dead pan.  “Now about those sweaters…”

He grinned again and then winked.  Actually winked.  “Hilarious?” he asked, stepping around the corner and gesturing for her to follow him.  “I prefer dashing rapscallion, scoundrel.”

Her stomach did not swoop at the way he almost growled that last word.  It didn’t!  

The fact that she was totally lying to herself annoyed her more than every aspect of this ridiculous bet.  “How about you be ‘shop owner who does his job and points the customer in the right direction’?  Think you could manage that?”

The rest of Emma’s shopping experience went without a hitch.  She grabbed the plainest Christmas sweater she could find--a simple powder blue v-neck covered tastefully with snowflakes. 

Maybe Ruby would take pity on her and call her bet paid off if she wore this thing.

Probably not, but one never knew.  It was the season of miracles, after all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Killian opened the store as usual, taking a moment to be sure everything was ship-shape before unlocking the doors and turning the sign in the window to read “open”.  He glanced over at his “ugly Christmas sweater” display and smiled wistfully to himself.

He’d spent a fair amount of the evening thinking about her, Emma Swan, her credit card had proclaimed.  She was beautiful, aye, but there was more to it than that.  Though their interaction had scarcely lasted a quarter of an hour, though their conversation had been relegated to Christmas sweaters and the bet that had forced her to purchase one, he had the strangest sense that they were the same deep down, that they were kindred souls.

He was utterly captivated by her.

Killian sighed as he turned on the cash register and checked his supply of cash in preparation for what would likely be another busy day.    It was the first time he’d had any meaningful glimmer of interest in a woman since Milah’s death, and he was surprised at how nervous it had made him to interact with her.  For probably the thousandth time since yesterday afternoon he mentally kicked himself for not getting her number. 

A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.  Liam had told him that five hundred times if he’d told him once.  

Well, there was no sense dwelling on it now.  Emma Swan had walked out of his life when she walked out of his store, and there was no changing that.

Or so he thought.

Not a quarter of an hour after opening his doors, who should arrive, charging forth in all her wrathful glory than the lovely Miss Swan herself?

Killian grinned at her teasingly.  “Back again, love?  Couldn’t resist my dashing self, is it?”

She rolled her eyes.  “You wish.”

He did.  He really, really did.

“Well, Swan, what can I help you with this lovely morning?” he asked.

She looked surprised.  “You remember my name?”

Killian chuckled and scratched behind his ear.  “I never forget a face, and yours, love, is exceptionally beautiful.”

“Not your love,” she said, but Killian took note of the way her cheeks reddened at the simple endearment.  “Anyway, I’m not here to flirt.  I’m here for another sweater.”

“Another Christmas sweater?”

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh.  “Apparently that blue one with the snowflakes I bought yesterday won’t fulfill my bet.  Ruby told me it barely even fit the category.  Got anything uglier for me?”

“You, darling are in luck,” Killian said.  “Revenge just so happens to stock some of the ugliest ugly Christmas sweaters in the state.”

Today, after a fair bit more banter and pleasant small talk, she’d decided on a red, woolen zip-up cardigan.  Featured prominently on the sweater were several applique snowmen playing musical instruments.  It was...it was quite something.

“This is actually kind of perfect,” Emma said, trying it on and looking herself up and down in the floor length mirrored column next to the sweater display.  “Definitely fits the category, plus it’s a cardigan.  I can take it off after I’ve shown Ruby I actually wore it.  I’ll just say I’m too hot or something.”

He grinned teasingly at her and wiggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner.  “You certainly are, love.”

She laughed at that before removing the sweater and setting it on the counter to be rung up.  “Do those exaggerated lines actually work on anyone?”

“You’d be surprised,” he answered.  “At any rate, they seem to have served their purpose today.  You seem to be leaving my establishment in better spirits than you entered it.”

She smiled.  “I guess I am.  Thanks, Killian.”

He inclined his head.  “A lady in distress needs my assistance, and her wish is my command.”

She laughed again.  “Alright, well I have to get to work.”

He rang her up and wished her a good day.  Just before she stepped out the door, he called out to her again.  She turned toward him.

“Any chance I might see you again?” he asked, feeling like a tongue-tied young lad with the lass he fancied.

“With Ruby being the way she is,” Emma said, “probably a really good chance I’ll be back.”

And so she had.  She returned the next day, settling on a sweater bearing the visage of The Grinch, the day after, choosing one that depicted all twelve gifts from the famous song, the one after that in her own, colorful words, looked like Christmas exploded in woolen form.

Each day their conversations lasted longer, and each day he fell a little bit more for the lovely Miss Swan.  He came to look forward to her visits every day with eager anticipation, mentally thanking whatever brilliant soul invented the “ugly  Christmas sweater”.

On the fifth day, Killian managed to unearth a gem of such glittering ugliness and ostentation, he felt the need to pat himself on the back.

“Yep, that’s certainly a disaster,” Emma said grinning at the garment covered in a large Christmas tree, filled with ornaments and a banner along the bottom that read MERRY CHRISTMAS! In huge letters.

“Oh, but love, you haven’t even seen the best part,” Killian announced.  “This particular sweater comes with a battery pack.”

She shot him a disbelieving look.  “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what exactly does the battery pack do.”

Instead of answering, he turned the device on.  LED lights flashed in every tiny ornament on the sweater, and the MERRY CHRISTMAS! nearly had a strobe light effect.

Emma groaned before dissolving into laughter.  “This is it.  This is the ugly Christmas sweater of all ugly Christmas sweaters.  If this doesn’t satisfy Ruby, I admit defeat.”

Killian watched her go that day with more than a little melancholy.  What if that was the sweater that would do the trick?  What if she didn’t return again?

He needn’t have worried.  Emma Swan showed up at his door bright and early the next morning.

His heart leapt at the sight of her.  He’d fallen hard and fast for this woman, and he saw no likelihood that would change any time soon.

“What? Even the monstrosity with the flickering lights didn’t satisfy the demanding Miss Lucas?” Killian asked by way of greeting.

Emma laughed.  “Oh it did,” Emma assured.  “I think I actually managed to render her speechless with that one.  It’s just...well my bet was for a different sweater every day until Christmas, and I’m a woman of my word.”

And for that he was profoundly grateful.

So it continued.  Each day she came in, each day she bought a sweater, and each day he fell a little bit more in love with her.

When Christmas Eve arrived, Killian noticed a change in Emma’s demeanor almost instantly.  She looked...uncomfortable.

“Is something the matter Love?” he asked, brow furrowed.

“No,” she said, drawing out the syllable, “It’s just..well...I’m here to ask you out.”

Killian choked on the sip of coffee he’d just injudiciously taken.  “Pardon?”

“Okay, first I have a little confession to make,” Emma said.  “Remember that ridiculous sweater with the battery pack around day five or six?”

“Aye,” he said carefully.

“Well, after I wore that, Ruby actually released me from my bet,” she said, looking bashful.  “She told me I’d fulfilled the spirit of it or something like that.”

Killian felt the smile creeping over his face.  “And yet you continued coming in and making your purchases every day.  Whatever for, darling?”

She tried to look stern.  “Look, don’t make a bigger deal of it than it is, but, I don’t know.  I kind of enjoyed our daily shopping sessions and conversations and all of that.”

His smile grew.  “You enjoy my company!”

“Don’t let it go to that over-inflated ego of yours.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, making a cross-my-heart motion over his chest.  “And for the record, I have greatly enjoyed our little...retail dalliances...quite a bit as well.  Now what was that about asking me out?”

She suddenly looked bashful again. “So the sheriff’s department is throwing this Christmas bash and ugly sweater contest tonight, and I was hoping maybe you’d...I mean, I know it’s Christmas Eve, and people want to spend it with family, and I totally get it if you’re not interested or it’s not your thing or whatever, and don’t feel obligated, but I just thought--”

Killian leaned across the counter and kissed her.  “Swan, I would like nothing better than to accompany you to your party.  Just tell me when and where.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ruby watched Emma walk into the diner hand in hand with Killian Jones later that evening.  She smiled broadly, reaching over to slap Graham’s arm as he sat beside her.

“Ow!” Graham groused.  “What was that for?”

“Look!” Ruby said.  “It worked!  I told you it would work!”

Graham obediently followed her directions and then grinned.  “I can’t believe you talked me into helping you rig that bet just to play matchmaker!”

“I told you!” she said again.  “Didn’t I tell you?  I knew Killian would be perfect for Emma.  She just needed a little push.”

“That she did,” Graham said with a laugh.  “Remind me to never doubt you again.”

They watched for a moment as Emma looped her arms around Killian’s neck and the two began swaying gently to the music that was playing.

Who would have known that an ugly Christmas sweater would lead to what was sure to become a romance for the ages?

NEXT CHAPTER->

[mageofseven]

Repressed Love: A DiaLuci Love Story

Chapter 22

Tag list: @astroseuss @zarakem @brielle043 @missloserqueen

Let me know if you wanna join the tag list!~

Like always, no smut but this part does contain a scene where female!Dia is shirtless and Lucifer observes the changes to his fiancé's body. It's more sweet and fluffy than anything spicy though.

I hope you enjoy!~

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

Lucifer was so confused, but as he looked into Diavolo's warm golden eyes...he at least knew what he wasn't capable of doing now.

This whole time, his fiancé has only ever gone along with his decisions, always putting the pride demon's feelings above his own.

Now the other man desperately wants to do this...so how can he say no, despite all that was happening?

Lucifer released a sigh.

"Alright." He relented before adding. "But this time, I'll be the one taking care of you."

Diavolo smiled, one that actually reached his eyes, before smashing his lips to Luce's for an excited, passionate kiss. It took the other demon off guard, but it would be a lie to say he didn't enjoy it.

"Thank you, my Light." Dia stared at him lovingly and with relief. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Still, the Avatar of Pride watched guiltily as the prince popped the cork and put the bottle up to his lips.

Luckily, the potion was a pleasant one with a taste that reminded the prince of strawberries, which explained why Asmo loved putting this potion in his morning smoothies.

Even before the man finished the potion, his chest became tight and by the time he drank the last drop, he felt like he was having a hot flash. He was feeling too hot!

Suddenly, he dropped the bottle and frantically tried unbuttoning his jacket as he panted.

Lucifer watching in horror as his boyfriend lost patience and literally ripped the jacket off him.

At this point, the man already had some curves and his breasts just kept growing (because of course the man with beautiful himbo tits would have impressively big boobs as a woman 😂).

His hair becoming thicker and longer, all the way to his mid-back.

Suddenly, the prince moaned (in pain or what, his fiancé wasn't certain) and fell against Lucifer who held him close as this wickedly strange, painful sensation started in his lower torso and crotch area (all of a sudden, this man knows what a really horrible period cramp feels like and he barely knows what a period is lol).

The prince kept his face hidden in his fiancé's chest and kept a firm grip on his Luce's shirt the entire time.

The couple didn't know how long it lasted, but eventually the painful sensation ceased to continue. The two stayed like that for a minute longer, Lucifer rubbing circles into the redhead's back as Dia kept hidden in the safe confines of the other man's embrace.

"Are you alright, love?" Lucifer asked softly, receiving a small nod from the prince in his arms.

It took another minute for Dia to raise his head and meet Lucifer's eyes.

At first, all the pride demon focused on was his fiancé's tearful golden eyes, the very ones that have soothed him so often in the past.

Then he truly took in the changes from the other man.

Diavolo's facial structure was softer and his long red hair covered half his face in this position. His shirt looked ready to rip from his chest's...growth, but otherwise he couldn't see any other changes from his love with his clothes on.

Still, Lucifer's heart skipped a beat and his cheeks filled with red as he stared down at the man (woman???) in his arms.

"Lucifer?"

Oh devil, even Dia's voice was different, changed from his usual baritone voice to one closer to a mezzo-soprano.

It took a minute for the pride demon to compose himself and remember to, I dunno, answer his overwhelmed beloved in his arms.

"I...are you alright?"

Dia sniffled, but nodded and smiled at him.

"I'm pretty sure this shirt will choke me, but otherwise I'm perfectly fine." He joked before actually grabbing the hem of their shirt and pulling it up over their head (with some minor difficulty).

Lucifer's whole face went red and he quickly turned away before remembering that he was literally engaged to this person; this was still Dia after all, even if his body was different.

Diavolo laughed, a sweet and smooth sound, before hugging the pride demon from behind, pressing his new boobs against his fiancé's back.

"Ohoho, are you truly embarrassed by this?" Dia asked, kissing the other demon's neck. "It's still just me, my Light."

Oh Diavolo...

Despite the great change he went through, the prince was still focused on comforting him and making sure Lucifer was alright.

Lucifer turned around, taking in the sight of his fiancé's new body more fully.

Dia still had the abs he had before, albeit in a slightly softer form, and his body was overall still pretty toned. His chest was...just as big as the pride demon suspected, but instead of having of any sexual thoughts, all he could think of was the back problem his poor love was going to get from them.

Even after all the changes the prince's body went through, Lucifer still found himself looking up into Dia's eyes, not out of embarrassment, but because...whether masculine or feminine, his favorite physical part of his beloved will always be his eyes.

Wanting to comfort the overwhelmed person in front of him (who thought he was hiding it so well), Lucifer leaned in and kissed his fiancé sweetly, a kiss so appreciated that even when Lucifer tried to pull back, Dia only followed his lips and wrapped his arms around the Avatar of Pride to keep the kiss going.

When Dia pulled back, the couple stared at each other lovingly.

"You look...as breathtaking as always, love." Lucifer said somewhat awkwardly, but with so much love.

Dia blushed as red as his hair.

"Do I...actually look alright?" He mumbled.

Lucifer put his hand on his fiancé's cheek.

"You're you," He told the prince. "And you are always beautiful to me, regardless of your form."

It took a bit for the couple to...actually start the process of making their new child. They were both still trying to get used to Diavolo's new form and the prince was more tense than he wished to admit.

Lucifer spent time worshiping the prince's new body, making sure his fiancé felt comforted and loved in his new form. The pride demon was in no rush. As important as having a new child was, as conceiving a 'proper' heir was...things were different.

If Luce had been the one to drink the potion, he would have just wanted to get this over with and fulfill the duty he was given

But as he stared at Diavolo under him, looking uncomfortable, but staring up at him with his golden eyes filled with so much trust...

He wasn't going to give the prince a single touch that wasn't completely desired. This wasn't just some 'business' the two had to take care of.

This was Lucifer pouring his love into his vulnerable partner, making sure each touch he gave was one the other man wanted, not ones he felt obligated to accept for the task ahead.

The two went slow and Luce did all he could to calm Dia's heart

And it was such a beautiful time, just as passionate as always despite the change.

Each touch, each sensation...they were so very new to the prince, but he grew to love each and every one of them because it was Lucifer who caused them within him.

By the end of the lovemaking, Dia held onto Lucifer, feeling so content and complete.

The pride demon pressed a kiss to the prince's forehead.

He meant it when he said it was his turn to take care of him. No matter what, Lucifer was going to give his all to Diavolo, to their daughter, and whatever child may come from this night of love and change.

[oieever]

A High-Flying Ambition

Oliver Lee, born 이 올리버 (Lee Oliver) on April 15, 2002, in Gangnam-gu, South Korea, navigates life with a backdrop of high expectations. His father, David Lee, a prominent businessman in the finance sector, holds a powerful influence over Oliver's aspirations. David's pride in his only child translates into a relentless drive for Oliver to excel and uphold the family’s esteemed reputation.

From Singapore to Seoul: A New Chapter

Oliver’s mother, Rachel Tan, originally from Singapore, transitioned from a career in education to a dedicated role as a homemaker in South Korea. Her move to Seoul and decision to focus on family life were pivotal in shaping the household's dynamics, offering a steady support system amidst the pressures of David’s career-driven focus.

Navigating Privilege and Pressure

Growing up in the affluent district of Gangnam-gu, Oliver was enveloped in an environment of both privilege and expectation. As the only child, the intense scrutiny from his father created a complex dynamic, fostering a personality that is often seen as self-centered and ego-driven. This tension has influenced his relationships and personal growth.

Balancing Act: Academics, Social Life, and Self-Care

Now 22 and a student at Korea University majoring in Banking and Finance, Oliver’s life reflects a delicate balance between meeting his father’s expectations and managing his own desires. His cool, reserved demeanor is a counterpoint to his vibrant social life, where he enjoys attending parties and connecting with others. To manage the pressures of his academic and familial obligations, Oliver has developed a passion for baking, especially chocolate treats. This hobby serves as both a creative outlet and a personal escape from the high demands placed upon him.

[saellefanwork]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖

Reminder: This Demon Slayer fic is rated Mature (adults only) for canon-typical violence and eventual suggestive or explicit sexual content

Return to Chapters List

Chapter 22: The Tsuguko's teachings

Kyojuro engages in a fierce battle with Akaza again, adopting the mindset of his tsuguko's late father, which enables him to completely suppress his battle spirit.

Author's note: Chapter 2/4 of the Final Battle Arc We're halfway there! Then things will hopefully improve for everyone. Everyone who's still alive, that is ;')

Trigger warning: bloody and gruesome

A few days earlier

"My father was like a plant," Tanjiro mused absentmindedly, his gaze fixed on the empty space before him as he munched a salmon-filled onigiri.

Kyojuro cast an intrigued glance at his disciple. They were savoring the lunch that Senjuro had prepared for them after an intense morning of training with other Demon Slayers. These breaks often provided them with the opportunity to have heart-to-heart conversations. Their discussions had evolved over the months, from discussing family traditions, like the Kamados' Hinokami Gakura (Dance of the Fire God) and the Rengokus' Flame Breathing style, to sharing personal stories about lost parents, siblings, or friends. Through these talks, the Hashira had come to realize the many commonalities he shared with his tsuguko. They felt akin to spiritual brothers. However, it was the first time Kyojuro had heard his junior express such a strange sentiment.

"Your words don't align with the way you normally hold your father's memory, my boy!"

"Oh, no... I didn't mean it in a disrespectful way. Plants are remarkably serene beings, don't you think?"

Kyojuro blinked his owlish eye as he contemplated his student. Had he accidentally struck him too hard on the head with the bokken earlier? In reality, it was the wooden sword that had shattered, leaving the young boy unscathed. But perhaps the damage was internal. Should he consider giving him the afternoon to rest?

Sensing his master's confusion and skepticism, Tanjiro continued, a hint of embarrassment in his expression:

"I mean... my father was always calm, no matter what. It didn't hinder him from reacting to his surroundings or loving us, but he never emitted the scent of intense or overpowering emotions, even when defending our home against predators. In that way, he reminded me of a strong, peaceful tree."

"Hmm! I see! He managed to protect your home this way, even while he was ill. Very interesting and commendable! However, I'm not sure if that mindset is compatible with demon hunting, particularly with the Flame Breathing style, if that's what you had in mind. Bringing fiery katas to life requires a passionate heart!"

Tanjiro smiled affectionately at his master's enthusiasm and pride.

"Perhaps it would be worth a try? My father had fragile health, yet he could stand against creatures much stronger than himself. It was as if he comprehended them and could predict their moves. And since he emitted no scent of murderous intent, I think wild animals found it challenging to anticipate his actions."

Kyojuro didn't respond immediately. He finished his umpteenth miso soup bowl and set it down on the engawa with a resounding clack, his unwavering smile still on his lips.

"Very well! If you can land a blow on me in a duel with that approach, I'll be thoroughly convinced, my boy. But before we resume our training, could you explain to me again how you awakened your Demon Slayer Mark? This time using precise words instead of childlike sounds, if possible. I haven't given up hope of obtaining mine before the hostilities commence."

Back to the present, night of December 31, 1915, to January 1, 1916

Kyojuro had regained consciousness, his skull partially lodged in a broken wooden wall, and blood seeping into his remaining good eye. He wiped it away with the back of his gakuran sleeve, pushing himself upright.

As he recovered his wits, the recent conversation with Tanjiro came rushing back. Akaza's frequent references to the "battle spirit" had sparked an idea in Kyojuro's mind – perhaps distancing himself from his emotions, as his young disciple had suggested, might be the key to concealing his intentions from the demon.

But that was easier said than done. Now standing at the edge of the building where he had landed, looking into the distance to find you, a surge of unprecedented rage coursed through him as he witnessed Akaza impaling you with his arm. His heartbeat raced, and his temperature soared dangerously. A subtle tingling sensation coursed through his skin around his damaged eye, accompanied by a crackling sound, as if his flesh were aflame. Despite the disconcerting sensation, Kyojuro paid it no mind, adrenaline numbling the pain from his injuries as he gathered his strength and leaped to the platform where you and Upper Moon Three were locked in a fierce battle.

Calm down, the Hashira repeated to himself, struggling to suppress his anger and stay focused on the demon above you, whose back was turned to him. He knew that defeating this adversary and rescuing you required him to conceal his emotions.

Regrettably, it seemed that he couldn't adequately control them, as at the very last moment, the martial artist sensed his presence and evaded the strike. None of the subsequent blows succeeded in decapitating his opponent, but the Flame Pillar recognized a noticeable improvement compared to their previous fights.

"Oh! Something has changed, Kyojuro! You're even stronger than before! Interesting... I thought you had already reached your limits! Perfect, it's even more exciting like this!"

The Slayer remained silent. Breathe deeply, distant yourself from your feelings, he reiterated within his mind. His heart continued to pound at an enhanced rate, and his body remained feverish, but he was gradually regaining composure, entering an almost trance-like state.

In front of him, Akaza's eyes widened in astonishment. An emotion gripped his demonic heart for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. Fear. Every fiber of his being urged him to eliminate this man as quickly as possible. Yet, despite this sense of urgency, the Kizuki found himself increasingly unable to anticipate the movements of the fiery Hashira. He was, in fact, struggling more and more to anticipate the swordsman's movements. The flames of murderous intent emanating from Kyojuro's soul were dwindling, despite the ongoing combat. His radiant red and golden eye no longer blazed with rage but with a frigid, dispassionate determination.

While your wounds were gradually closing, you watched the battle with rapt attention, your mouth slightly agape, enthralled by the awe-inspiring beauty of the duel unfolding before you. Despite the seven years spent training together, you had never witnessed Kyojuro fight in this manner. Although you had the urge to intervene, your companion appeared to have the upper hand, and you were apprehensive about disrupting this change of dominance.

Darting out of the scorching blade's path, Akaza leaped backward, creating distance between himself and his opponent. Observing the silhouette of the Flame Breathing user, the demon realized he could no longer detect the Hashira's battle spirit anymore. It was as if it had completely dissipated. This was unprecedented. Even infants exhibited some degree of battle spirit. It was almost as if the man had transformed into an impassive, unyielding tree.

The Hashira curled up into a modified Sha stance, his sword pointing upward behind him. You immediatly recognized the kata he was about to employ – the last that he had used in his initial confrontation with Akaza.

He shouldn't be using this one, you internally exclaimed, a sense of dread washing over you. It was the technique which had cost him his life in your orginal timeline. Although Upper Moon Three was struggling to evade Kyojuro's attacks since the Slayer's return, it was likely that he remembered the attack sequence —even if you had interrupted their fight near the Mugen train— and that the tragedy would repeat itself. Flame Breathing, Ninth Form: Rengoku!

A ferocious dragon of flames bellowed, creating an intense wall of fire that seared your retinas, forcing you to briefly close your eyes. When you dared to reopen them, you found the two adversaries now standing back-to-back, the swordsman having extended his strike behind Akaza. The demon's face contorted in sheer stupefaction as, without warning, his head separated from his torso and tumbled to the ground.

The swordsman winced and collapsed to his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. He leaned heavily on his katana, thrust into the wooden floor, for support, his once-mighty muscles now severely drained and unresponsive.

"How is this possible? I couldn't read your movements at all, it was as if you had completely lost your battle spirit!” cried the demon's severed head from its place on the ground.

"This was made possible by the teachings of Kamado Tanjiro, the boy you misjudged as weak," responded through labored breaths the Hashira as he struggled to regain his footing. "A master always learns from his student. Your narrow and corrupted perspective of a world where only the strong hold worth has ultimately led to your downfall, Akaza."

The Kizuki howled in a fit of rage and frustration, his cry echoing through the corridors. With lightning speed, he retrieved his severed head and attempted to reattach it to his shoulders, eliciting horror from both you and Kyojuro.

Reacting swiftly, you hurled your fractured sword into the demon's temple, sending it flying several meters until it struck a nearby wall. The skull rapidly disintegrated, but the body remained intact. The fighter instantly struck a martial pose, his surroundings radiating ominous demonic power, while his sealed neck began regenerating. You leaped powerfully, pinning him to the ground just before he could launch an assault against your still-recovering partner.

A struggle unfolded on the ground as you and your adversary grappled fiercely, each vying for the upper hand. Amidst the chaotic melee, you faintly discerned  Kyojuro calling your name with deep concern. He attempted to come to your rescue, but his legs faltered under the weight of his exhaustion. Additionally, intervening at this moment risked causing you harm, given the frantic nature of your tussle. The Hashira took deeper breaths, hastening his recovery in a bid to be of assistance at the earliest possible moment.

Just as the martial artist had turned the tables, now looming over you with one hand clutching your throat and his other raised menacingly, poised to shatter your skull with raw brute force, Kyojuro's voice sliced through the tense air.

"Kanoko!"

Harnessing every ounce of his remaining strength, the swordsman surged toward his opponent, bringing his crimson blade down upon his neck. The demon had managed to reconstruct himself up to the lower part of his face, and his skin appeared even more resilient than before, likely due to the Flame Hashira's mounting fatigue.

"I'm still your adversary, Akaza!!" the Flame Pillar roared, his muscles flexing even more intensely. "As long as I draw breath, I won't let you harm her!"

The demon froze, much like before, as if those words had rekindled something within him. It was as though he fixated on an invisible presence before him, even though he was still blind - his face had only begun to regenerate up to his ears. Unbeknowsnt to you, the Kizuki was experiencing fleeting visions of someone from his long-forgotten human life.

His raised fist loomed perilously, and for a moment, you dreaded that he might thrust it into Kyojuro's chest. You were not in a position to prevent such an outcome. Your mouth opened in a scream, yet to your great astonishment, the demon plunged his arm into his own chest, ripping out his heart in the process.

At the same moment, Kyojuro completed his strike, once again sending Upper Moon Three's partially reconstituted head flying. The demon’s injuries appeared to vacillate between disintegration and regeneration. Breathless, you both watched him grapple with invisible forces.

Ultimately, one of Akaza's hands reached out towards you, lightly brushing against your cheek.

"... Thank you..."

You believed you heard his voice, though it was implausible; both his heads had been reduced to ashes, rendering him incapable of speech. Suddenly, his body disintegrated into fragments of dust, which subsequently vanished from your realm, as though the demon had never existed.

Despite the profound aversion you harbored for this individual, who had brought so much suffering upon you and your suitor, an unexpected wave of pity washed over you. He had once been human, after all. Who could fathom what he'd endured before succumbing to the corruption under Muzan's influence? Deep within, you acknowledged that you might have shared a similar fate if not for your powers bringing your childhood friend back to you.

Kyojuro sank to his knees beside you. After an extended silence, punctuated solely by your labored breaths, he turned to you with a weary yet triumphant smile.

"We won...!"

His smile vanished abruptly. You were staring at him, pale and trembling, as if he were a specter. You had seen it correctly: flame-shaped marks adorned the scar of Kyojuro's left eye. It really wasn't blood. Clenching your teeth, your sharp canines peeking through, you gripped your fists so tightly that they bled, your claws piercing your palms. As he became aware of your own actions, the Flame Pillar felt his heart pause.

"Kanoko... What... No, don't activate your power!"

You stood still, your gaze wavering.

"But, Kyo... you have the Mark."

"That's a good thing! Combined with the mindset Kamado taught me, it helped us defeat Akaza, and it will assist us against Kibutsuji as well."

"But you know about its curse, don't you?!" you nearly shouted at him. "Even if we make it out of here alive, even if we win... you'll die in four years at most! Maybe I could try to go back in time and... and ensure we defeat Akaza without needing the Mark."

A weighty silence hung between you. Despite your words, you weren't entirely convinced by them. You were well aware of the disastrous consequences if you were to fail: what if Akaza killed Kyojuro because he couldn't awaken his Mark? What if he vanquished both of you and continued to sow terror under his master's rule? What if it led to you becoming a new slave of Muzan, despite your resistance?

Sensing your thoughts and internal struggle, Kyojuro gazed at you with a pained expression. He inched closer to you, gently encircling you in his arms and resting your head against his chest. His fingers unfurled your clenched fists and tenderly interlaced with yours.

You listened to his steady heartbeat, a lump forming in your throat.

"Maybe I'll meet my end when the Mark demands it, maybe not. We can't stake our victory on mere assumptions. In any case, my love, I'd willingly sacrifice myself to fight by your side for a world free from demons.  A world where our descendants and our loved ones could live without enduring the trials and tragedies we've faced. Let's focus on making that future a reality, shall we?"

You closed your eyes, mustering your inner strength to hold back the tears. There was no time for weeping, and you knew he was right. You couldn't rationally risk altering the course of time, especially after defeating another Upper Moon. It was even riskier when you were so close to eliminating the Lord of Demons himself.

"... Let's go join the others," you murmured as you slowly pulled away from the Flame Pillar, wiping your moist eyes with the back of your uniform sleeve.

With a tender smile, Kyojuro nodded. He gently lifted your face, his gaze softly aglow as he met your eyes. His face was stained with drying blood, making his hair stick to his skin, and the flame-shaped Demon Slayer Mark over his dead eye was fading away slowly, returning to its dormant state. Even though time was running out, your childhood friend took a few seconds to look at you intensely, and you couldn't help but wonder if you appeared as battered as him, and if you had managed to flick some determination into your glassy eyes.

His warm lips drew near, brushing yours in a chaste yet overwhelming kiss. A mixture of complex emotions, both yours and your lover's, flowed through the bittersweet contact, causing your chest to ache. You didn't want to let him go, yet you were also not sure if you could endure this heart-wrenching kiss any longer.

Perhaps sensing your inner turmoil, the Flame Pillar gently parted from you with a kind and encouraging smile, before carefully helping you to your feet. You both shortly resumed your course through the corridors of the Infinity Castle, guided by the Rengokus’ crow, Kaname. As you chased after them, you absentmindedly moistened your lips, where the warmth and lingering tenderness of your lover persisted. They tasted like blood.

Taisho secret: Kyojuro and Hakuji (Akaza when he was human) could have been great friends if they had known each other in better times. Unfortunately, the divine forces had charted a different destiny for them.

Thank you so much to all the readers who are leaving favs, reglogging or commenting their thoughts on this story! It always make my day. Don't forget that you can always reach out with questions or share your feedback :3

Next chapter: "The Lord of Demons"

[rafor]

Chapter 22 - Day 5 - The Glitch

I felt like an outsider in this city of dragons. Even though I had moved here recently, I still had trouble fitting in. Everyone treated me with kindness, courtesy, and respect, but I sensed that they were also curious and wary of me. I was the only human here, after all. But Leo, a friendly wyvern who had befriended me, had given me a list of places to visit and activities to enjoy. He said that it would help me get to know the city and its culture better. He also said that all I had to do was mention his name to get special treatment. He seemed to have a lot of influence and connections here. But on my fifth day here, I decided to explore beyond the areas that Leo had recommended. I wanted to see the real city, where most of the dragons lived and worked. As I wandered off the beaten path, I stumbled upon a scene that reminded me of the harsh reality. A group of dragons were cornering another, threatening him and wounding him with their claws and teeth. The poor thing had no chance to escape by flying away. Before I could intervene, two guards arrived and dispersed the attackers. But instead of helping the injured dragon, they proceeded to beat him mercilessly. They did not care that he had stopped resisting and was begging for mercy. They seemed to enjoy inflicting pain and humiliation on him. Then they dragged him away, leaving behind a trail of blood. I was shocked and appalled by what I had witnessed. It seemed that the law here was not based on justice but on brute force. I wondered if I could ever end up like him, or worse. I quickly left the area and flew back to my home, using my wings to avoid the crowds.

That evening, I visited Leo to thank him for his suggestions. He greeted me warmly and invited me to chat with him. He asked me about my wings again, as if he had forgotten our previous conversation. I repeated what I had told him before: how I had learned to summon and use them, and how they used to appear and disappear randomly. He nodded and said that some griffins and wyverns had similar abilities. He added that it was especially rare among wyverns, and only the royal family of Zephyros, a fallen kingdom, had a second pair of wings that they could summon at will. He then proceeded to tell me a long and detailed story about Zephyros, its history, its culture, its wars, and its demise. He seemed to know everything about it, as if he had lived there himself. He spoke with passion and emotion, sometimes with pride and sometimes with sorrow. He captivated me with his words but also made me suspicious. How could he know so much? Was he making it up? Was he hiding something? He finally reached the climax of his story and said, “Do you want to know the best part of it all?” I replied, “Sure, why not?” He then summoned his second pair of wings in front of me.

They were magnificent wings, larger than his normal ones. They glowed with a golden light and shimmered like stars in the night sky. They were covered with something that looked like glitter but was more refined and elegant. They were the most beautiful wings I had ever seen. I gasped in awe and admiration, but also in disbelief and doubt. Was he really who he claimed to be? He said, “I was the prince of Zephyros, the heir to that cursed, bloody throne.” I said, “Really? You were the prince? But if your kingdom has fallen, why are you still here?” He said, “When the conflict erupted, when the wars began, I fled from my home and came to this city. Even though I was an enemy target, I was lucky enough to receive their mercy. You may call me a coward, but I did it because my family was oppressing me.” I asked, “So you joined the enemy side?” He said, with regret, “Unfortunately, yes. And I’m sorry for that, but at least I survived, and some of my loved ones managed to escape before it was too late, thanks to me.”

I did not know what to say. His story was incredible, but also questionable. I did not want to offend him or accuse him of lying, but I also did not want to be naive or gullible. So I said politely, “What a great backstory you have. I wish I had one like that too.” He said, “Thank you. You will have one soon enough. The guardians talk a lot about you. Oh, and by the way, the griffins next to the guardians want to see you tomorrow morning for a friendly talk and then take you in the afternoon for a tour of their city. Maybe you will even meet their leader if you’re lucky.” I said, “Wow, everyone really wants to show me everything, don’t they?” He said, “Of course they do.” I asked, “Why?” He explained, “Isn’t it obvious? You’re part of a prophecy, and they want to earn your goodwill so that you will help them. Think about it.”

I thought about it. It made sense. “I should hear about this prophecy then. Do you know anything about it?” He said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you anything without the guardians’ permission. I don’t want to lose their trust or their mercy.” I said, "Fine, I guess I’ll have to wait then.” He nodded but did not say anything else. So I changed the topic and asked him about his wings again: “Can we talk about your second pair of wings?” He said, “Sure!” I asked, “How did you learn to summon and unsummon them?” He demonstrated by making them appear and disappear again. He said, “I don’t know exactly. I just have to think about them, and when I want to use them, they show up.” That was not very helpful, so I asked, “Do you remember the first time you summoned them? How did you discover them?” He said, "Yes, I do. It was during my childhood. I was having a flying lesson with some friends, and we challenged each other to a race. During the race, they popped out for the first time.” That was still vague, so I asked, “How did you unsummon them then?” He said, “They unsummoned on their own as soon as I stopped using them. It was like an instinct.” I said, “Oh, I see. Thank you.” Then I looked at my own wings and wondered if I could do the same. They had a faint glow around them, a mix of golden yellow and light blue. It looked pretty, but not very significant. I said, “I wish I could unsummon and summon my wings too. But everyone tells me that they are probably permanent.” He examined my wings from a distance and said, “No way, they are not permanent. They look like magic to me. I bet you could do it too. You just need some time and practice to figure it out.” After he said that, I tried to move my wings in front of me, hoping to find a clue or a trigger. But nothing happened. He saw the disappointment on my face and asked, “What’s wrong? Did I miss something?” I said, “No, it’s just that I really want to control my wings. But nothing seems to work.” He smiled and said, “Don’t worry, you’ll get there eventually. Trust me.”

I thanked him for his encouragement and for everything else. Then I left his place and went back to my home. Another day was over, and the next one was already planned for me. Maybe it was better this way. I was not tired yet.

[dfroza]

Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms

for October 14 of 2023 with Proverbs 14 and Psalm 14, accompanied by Psalm 22 for the 22nd day of Astronomical Autumn, and Psalm 137 for day 287 of the year (with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 2nd revolution this year)

[Proverbs 14]

A wise woman builds her house,

but a foolish one picks it to splinters with her own hands.

Whoever travels through life with integrity respects the Eternal,

but whoever turns from it hates Him.

A fool’s words betray his pride and invite punishment,

but the humble speech of the wise will spare them.

A farm without oxen has a manger without grain;

there’s a good return in the strength of an ox.

An honest witness can always be trusted,

but a false witness breathes out nothing but lies.

Wisdom eludes mockers, though they seek it,

but insight comes quickly to those with understanding.

Walk away from the company of fools,

for you cannot find insight in their words.

It takes wisdom for the clever to understand the path they are on,

but the fool is deceived by his own foolishness.

Fools make a mockery of guilt and repentance,

but those who do what is right receive special standing.

Only the heart can know its own resentment;

likewise no stranger can experience its joy.

The house of the wicked will be destroyed,

while the tent of the upright will prosper.

Before every person lies a road that seems to be right,

but the end of that road is death and destruction.

Laughter can mask heartache,

and joy often gives way to grief.

A disloyal heart has its fill of disloyal ways,

but a good person will be satisfied from above.

The gullible believe anything they are told,

but clever people know to question every step.

The wise are cautious and stay far from evil,

but fools are hotheaded and careless.

Quick-tempered people make fools of themselves,

and evil schemers make many enemies.

The naive are heirs to foolishness,

but the clever are honored with insight.

Evil people will be humbled before the good;

the wicked will stoop at the doorstep of the righteous.

The poor are hated even by their own neighbors,

but the rich are loved by many friends.

Those who have contempt for their neighbors are sinners,

but those who are kind to the poor are happy.

Don’t those who work evil stray from the truth?

Those who plan goodness experience unfailing love and faithfulness.

Prosperity comes from hard work,

but talking too much leads to great scarcity.

The wise are honored for their wealth;

the reward of fools is more foolishness.

A truthful witness protects lives by not allowing evil to triumph,

but a deceitful witness speaks lies and puts the innocent in jeopardy.

Reverence for the Eternal brings bold confidence,

and one’s offspring will have hope of protection.

Respect and honor for Him is the basis of a satisfied life,

which guards a person from being trapped in the snares of death.

A king’s splendor is in his many people,

but a declining population will lead to his ruin.

Whoever is patient and slow to anger shows great understanding,

but whoever has a quick temper magnifies his foolishness.

A serene heart can add years to one’s life;

but jealous passion rots the bones.

Whoever oppresses the poor insults his Maker,

but anyone who is gracious to the needy honors Him.

The wicked are waylaid by their evil actions,

but the right-living find hope’s sanctuary even in their death.

Wisdom rests in the heart of one with insight

and can even be experienced by fools.

Living according to God’s instructions makes a nation great,

but sin colors those who commit it with disgrace.

The king shows kindness to a servant who acts wisely,

but his anger burns toward one who brings shame.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 14 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

The wrong kind of passion can be a dangerous thing. Too often people are ruled by strong emotions, thoughts that cannot be checked, and actions that cannot be controlled. If that’s the case, then you are putting your life and well-being in jeopardy. Peace of mind, tranquility of soul, and serenity of heart become the recipe for a long, happy life.

[Psalm 14]

For the worship leader. A song of David.

A wicked and foolish man truly believes there is no God.

They are vile, their sinfulness nauseating to their Creator;

their actions are soiled and repulsive; every deed is depraved;

not one of them does good.

The Eternal leans over from heaven to survey the sons of Adam.

No one is missed, and no one can hide.

He searches to see who understands true wisdom,

who desires to know the True God.

They all turn their backs, walking their own roads;

they are rancid, leaving a trail of rotten footsteps behind them;

not one of them does good,

not even one.

Do the wicked have no clue about what really matters?

They devour my brothers and sisters the way a man eats his dinner.

They ignore the Eternal and don’t call on Him, rejecting His reality and truth.

They shall secretly tremble behind closed doors, hearts beating hard within their chests,

knowing that God always avenges the upright.

You laugh at the counsel of the poor, the needy, the troubled who put their trust in God.

You try to take away their only hope,

but the Eternal is a strong shelter in the heaviest storm.

May a new day, a day of deliverance come for Israel, starting with Zion.

When the Eternal breaks the chains of His oppressed people,

the family of Jacob will rejoice, and Israel will be delighted.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 14 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

This is a wisdom psalm that grieves over the pervasiveness of sin and its sad effects. It is repeated with minor changes in Psalm 53. Paul refers to this Davidic psalm to explain how all of humanity is tainted by sin (Romans 3:1–12).

[Psalm 22]

For the worship leader. A song of David to the tune “Deer of the Dawn.”

My God, my God, why have You turned Your back on me?

Your ears are deaf to my groans.

O my God, I cry all day and You are silent;

my tears in the night bring no relief.

Still, You are holy;

You make Your home on the praises of Israel.

Our mothers and fathers trusted in You;

they trusted, and You rescued them.

They cried out to You for help and were spared;

they trusted in You and were vindicated.

But I am a worm and not a human being,

a disgrace and an object of scorn.

Everyone who sees me laughs at me;

they whisper to one another I’m a loser; they sneer and mock me, saying,

“He relies on the Eternal; let the Eternal rescue him

and keep him safe because He is happy with him.”

But You are the One who granted me life;

You endowed me with trust as I nursed at my mother’s breast.

I was dedicated to You at birth;

You’ve been my God from my mother’s womb.

Stay close to me—

trouble is at my door;

no one else can help me.

I’m surrounded by many tormenters;

like strong bulls of Bashan, they circle around me with their taunts.

They open their mouths wide at me

like ravenous, roaring lions.

My life is poured out like water,

and all my bones have slipped out of joint.

My heart melts like wax inside me.

My strength is gone, dried up like shards of pottery;

my dry tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth;

You lay me in the dust of death.

A throng of evil ones has surrounded me

like a pack of wild dogs;

They pierced my hands and ripped a hole in my feet.

I count all my bones;

people gawk and stare at me.

They make a game out of dividing my clothes among themselves;

they cast lots for the clothes on my back.

But You, O Eternal, stay close;

O You, my help, hurry to my side.

Save my life from violence,

my sweet life from the teeth of the wild dog.

Rescue me from the mouth of the lion.

From the horns of the wild oxen, You responded to my plea.

I will speak Your Name to my brothers and sisters

when I praise You in the midst of the community.

You who revere the Eternal, praise Him—

descendants of Jacob, worship Him;

be struck with wonder before Him, all you children of Israel.

He’s not put off

by the suffering of the suffering one;

He doesn’t pretend He hasn’t seen him;

when he pleaded for help, He listened.

You stir my praise in the great assembly;

I will fulfill my vows before those who humble their hearts before Him.

Those who are suffering will eat and be nourished;

those who seek Him will praise the Eternal.

May your hearts beat strong forever!

Those from the farthest reaches of the earth will remember

and turn back to look for the Eternal;

All the families of the nations

will worship You.

The Eternal owns the world;

He exercises His gentle rule over all the nations.

All the wealthy of the world will eat and worship;

all those who fall in the dust will bow before Him,

even the life that is headed to the grave.

Our children will serve Him;

future generations will hear the story of how the Lord rescued us.

They will tell the generations to come

of the righteousness of the Lord,

of what He has done.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 22 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Jesus prayed this individual lament from the cross (Matthew 27:46; Mark 15:34). Though it begins with a sense of abandonment, it ends on a triumphant note.

[Psalm 137]

By the rivers of Babylon,

we sat and wept

when we thought of Zion, our home, so far away.

On the branches of the willow trees,

we hung our harps and hid our hearts from the enemy.

And the men that surrounded us

made demands that we clap our hands and sing—

Songs of joy from days gone by,

songs from Zion, our home.

Such cruel men taunted us—haunted our memories.

How could we sing a song about the Eternal

in a land so foreign, while still tormented, brokenhearted, homesick?

Please don’t make us sing this song.

O Jerusalem, even still, don’t escape my memory.

I treasure you and your songs, even as I hide my harp from the enemy.

And if I can’t remember,

may I never sing a song again—

may my hands never play well again—

For what use would it be if I don’t remember Jerusalem

as my source of joy?

Remember, Eternal One, how the Edomites, our brothers, the descendants of Esau,

stood by and watched as Jerusalem fell.

Gloating, they said, “Destroy it;

tear it down to the ground,” when Jerusalem was being demolished.

O daughter of Babylon, you are destined for destruction!

Happy are those who pay you back for how you treated us

so you will no longer walk so proud.

Happy are those who dash your children against the rocks

so you will know how it feels.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 137 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Psalm 137 is a lament written either during or shortly after the exile. It provides a vivid image of what life in exile must have been like.

[rome-writes]

03/23/2023

Your path at 22 will not necessarily be your path at 32 or 42. One’s dream is constantly evolving, rising and falling, changing course. This happens in every job, but because I have worked in comedy for twenty-five years, I can probably speak best about my own profession.

Yeah, my desk and room doesn't look its best currently. Kind of a reflection of me. It's been a long time since I had one of this sit downs and write my thought for the blog kind of moment.

I used to be passionate in what I do, what I majored in. I desperately and foolishly tried to chase a dream that is probably isn't mine to begin with. I've been struggling to write a single lead, or even news article to begin with. I've been struggling to write something at all without the fear of not being good enough or grammatical errors with my sentence.

Though I've recovered from all the struggles and challenges I went through during my college days, being a fresh graduate is much more difficult. Your ideals, integrity, ethics, pride, ego, personality, and whole being will be shaken and challenged.

Trying to live life without a guide or routine is close to impossible and a paradox itself. One day you're happy with where you are, then next thing is that you are drowning from sadness and depression of where you are and what could have been. Contentment is finicky thing to deal with. Wanting more, wanting less, wanting to be enough, wanting to be free, wanting to have purpose, it's human nature I suppose.

Though, I feel like I've shed some naivety; I am still that young, spoiled brat years ago who had life easy somehow despite still being in the middle class. Being an unemployed fresh grad knocked me down a notch, perhaps.

There is no such thing as the ideal or perfect job, even perfect life. At the end of the day; I'm nothing but a number to people. I'm not special, so I should humble down a bit on how I present myself, how I see things. That people don't get their way all the time. Opportunities come and go, I might have lost so much or failed to live up to my expectation, but that's okay. Because from now on I'll try to do my best for myself, which means that I'll start doing things again even if it scares me or that I might not get the results that I want.

I accept this new chapter of mine, the one where I'm lost in becoming an adult. Without any safety net or crutch, I will get over my fear of failure and forgive myself for my shortcomings. To do my best to live for myself and not what seems ideal or curated. I'll try my best to be authentically true to myself, while learning to face reality. Like how messy my room is, that's the kind of authenticity I want to be.

[wutbju]

West Lebanon, NH - Beverlee Hastings Merrill, age 90, widow of the late Joseph H. Merrill, Jr., passed away on Sunday, November 27, 2022, at the home of her daughter, Nancy Peavey, in Enfield, NH.

Born at home on November 21, 1932, in Corinth, VT, to George and Bernice (Huntley) Hastings, she attended the small village Cookeville School, graduated from the Bradford Academy, Class of 1950, and attended Bob Jones University, Greenville, SC.

She moved to Hanover, NH, in 1952 to work at Dartmouth College Library. She married Joseph Merrill of Hanover at the United Church of Christ at Dartmouth College on September 15, 1956. He pre-deceased her on July 22, 1998. Married for almost 42 years, they spent most of their married life in the Hanover/Lebanon area as Joe pursued his career in Printing Management and they had their four children – Lisa, Lori, Nancy and Jonathan. Joe grew with Dartmouth Printing Co. In 1988, after 31 years with Dartmouth Printing, they moved out of town for the next eight years – first to Stratham on the NH seacoast for a position with Bradford & Bigelow in Danvers, MA, and then to The Printing House/Homes & Land magazine in Tallahassee, FL. They returned "home" to Lebanon in 1996 to be near their large, extended families.

Employed in the health care field for many years, Beverlee become a unit secretary at Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center for 11 years (1977-1988). When moving to the NH Seacoast, she found fulfillment as a one-to-one companion with Interim and the Portsmouth Regional Private Duty Association in Hampton Beach, Rye Beach, Exeter, Portsmouth and Kittery Point, ME (1989-1991) and then in Tallahassee FL (1991-1996). She was deeply committed to the elderly, especially those with acquired memory-loss disorders. To make their days and moments special, she became a compassionate activity assistant/educator at the Leon County Adult Day Care Center in Tallahassee for three years, and upon returning to the Upper Valley, at Genesis Health Care/Lebanon Center for the next six years (1996-2002). For years after her retirement from Genesis, her former co-workers and residents' families told her they remembered her as "that Hat Lady" in her many vintage, decorative crazy hats.

She was a Hospice volunteer for 23 years, beginning in the early years of the Hospice movement in the Upper Valley. She went on to connect with Seacoast Hospice in the Exeter-Portsmouth area and Big Bend in Tallahassee before returning to be a volunteer again in the Upper Valley after her retirement.

Retirement to Beverlee was "simply shifting gears" with time to read all night, take long naps, do some traveling with friends and family – and time to delve more deeply into family genealogy and local history. She drove about to Town Clerk's offices seeking out documents of her ancestors' births, deaths and marriages, making copies, gathering them, with their stories, into notebooks as a legacy for her children and future descendants. With the help of her nephew Kevin Hurst, she produced a book – Bev's Memories. She gave copies of the book to her children, her siblings and cousins.

She got her wish to do some traveling with family and friends, visiting Scotland, Nova Scotia, Arizona, Colorado, California, the Smoky Mountains and multiple trips to Florida to visit her sisters and old Tallahassee friends. She flew to Minnesota to finally meet a pen pal she had connected with while both were in grade school.

Moving to the Quail Hollow senior living community in 2007, she remained active locally in the Lebanon Woman's Club and the Rusty Reds and Scarlett O'Hatters of Quail Hollow's Red Hat chapters. Gradually slowed down by a weak back and poor balance, her passion for social interaction and involvement never wavered. She took great pride in being the overseer of the Quail Hollow Bi-Annual Give Away-Take Away Weekends, the Kilton-Quail Hollow Lending Library project and Quail's rotating art galleries.

She is survived by her loving family – her four children, Lisa (Dean) Rowe of Shrewsbury, MA, Lori Kay of White River Junction, VT, Nancy (Jeff) Peavey of Enfield, NH, and Jonathan (Sue) Merrill of West Lebanon, NH; her ten grandchildren, Allison (Jim) Ladio, Stephanie (Tyler) Frost, David Rowe, Andrew Kay, Leslie Kay, Benjamin Peavey, Joshua (Megan) Peavey, Nathan Peavey, Jessica (Brendan) Demich, Lindsey Merrill; and six great-grandchildren, Rowen and Salem Ladio, Ava and Wesley Peavey, Zoe Frost and Cecilia Demich.

She is also survived by her sister Peg Wilmott of Naples, FL, and brother David (Sue) Hastings of North Haverhill, NH; and multiple sisters-in-law and brothers-in-law. She will be remembered by 30 nieces and nephews and their families, and many cousins.

In addition to her loving husband, Joseph Merrill, she was pre-deceased by her sisters Joyce Chapman and Bernice (Bunny) Hurst, her brother George (Bert) Hastings, as well as multiple sisters-in-law and brothers-in-law.

Her remains have been cremated and will be scattered by her family at locations that were especially meaningful to Beverlee. She wished that there be no calling hours or services.

[maqqy96]

I posted 9,299 times in 2022

That's 1,943 more posts than 2021!

9 posts created (0%)

9,290 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@wilwheaton

@kuraiummei

@your-exo-highness

@collegeofwinterhold

I tagged 30 of my posts in 2022

#long post - 6 posts

#sanguine - 3 posts

#sailor moon - 2 posts

#the elder scrolls - 2 posts

#mass effect - 2 posts

#skyrim - 2 posts

#hircine - 2 posts

#pride - 2 posts

#senate - 1 post

#united states - 1 post

Longest Tag: 70 characters

#as smooth and straight as a seismic needle during a level 7 earthquake

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Chapters: 70/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Elder Scrolls Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Sanguine Characters: Sanguine (Elder Scrolls), Original Nord Character(s) (Elder Scrolls), Vigilants of Stendarr, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Hircine (Elder Scrolls), Clavicus Vile, Barbus, Molag Bal Additional Tags: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol, Vomiting, Male Gaze, Leering, Undressing With Eyes, Slow Burn Summary:

The Daedric Prince Sanguine, whose sphere was hedonistic revelry, debauchery, and passionate indulgences of darker natures, was currently suffering from the worst hangover in his entire existence. Vague memories of a deal gone wrong are all that he can recall of the last few weeks. To make matters worse, he found himself stuck wandering around with a virtuous, vindictive vixen and a young Vigilant of Stendarr as his only clues to what he'd done on what was clearly his most epic bender to date.

Now, if only he could remember it.

1 note - Posted August 20, 2022

#4

Chapters: 68/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Elder Scrolls Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Sanguine Characters: Sanguine (Elder Scrolls), Original Nord Character(s) (Elder Scrolls), Vigilants of Stendarr, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Hircine (Elder Scrolls), Clavicus Vile, Barbus, Molag Bal Additional Tags: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol, Vomiting, Male Gaze, Leering, Undressing With Eyes, Slow Burn Summary:

The Daedric Prince Sanguine, whose sphere was hedonistic revelry, debauchery, and passionate indulgences of darker natures, was currently suffering from the worst hangover in his entire existence. Vague memories of a deal gone wrong are all that he can recall of the last few weeks. To make matters worse, he found himself stuck wandering around with a virtuous, vindictive vixen and a young Vigilant of Stendarr as his only clues to what he'd done on what was clearly his most epic bender to date.

Now, if only he could remember it.

-- 68 chapters into what was supposed to be a short project to keep me busy during Quarantine. I think I can officially announce that this story is now out of control --

1 note - Posted July 22, 2022

#3

Newly added for Pride this month, have a Demisexual Pride Flag!

1 note - Posted June 6, 2022

#2

🦀 time for crab 🦀

today i summoned one crab and then caught it 💰 i guess that's dinner solved for tonight

1 note - Posted April 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Silver or Gold? Personally, I’ve always been fond of her silvery appearance, but gold is pretty too! And both versions are available in the shop!

13 notes - Posted June 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[m-jelly]

Chasing bubbles - first time.

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Genre and tags: Merman Levi, smut, foreplay (fem receiving), monsterfucking, human reader, water sex, fluff, romance, creampie, future AU, reader has an implant so safe sex.

Concept: Snippet from my current Ao3 story of chapter I posted on 17/05/22. Levi and you have sex together for the first time as a couple, not your first time ever. Levi is in his merman form and you are human. Levi shows your body just how much he loves it and loves you.

18+ material. Minors do not interact.

Levi swam up to your moonpool and placed little water lights around the walls of the moonpool. He put flowers on the water and lined the edges of the pool with stones and shells. He fixed and adjusted the headpiece on his head, then double-checked the courting bracelets on his arms. He smiled in pride thinking he looked great and perfect for you.

You walked into your apartment and dropped your bags down. You stretched your joints and moaned in happiness. You pulled your smart clothes off and walked over to your kitchen in your underwear in view of Levi. You paused when you heard Levi softly say your name.

You looked over at Levi and blushed. “Levi.”

He smiled at you. “You look beautiful.”

You looked down at yourself. “I’m in my underwear.”

“But you look great. Is this not a special outfit?”

You giggled. “No.” You walked over to the moonpool. “Look at this. This is so pretty.” You crouched down and hugged your legs. “This for?”

Levi nodded. “The end of the umm…courting and it’ll be the start of mating.”

You smiled and knelt. “I’m excited.” You undid your bra and tossed it to the side. You slipped your underwear off as you blushed. “Is the water cold?”

“It’s perfect.” He reached over and grabbed your waist. He lifted you off the side and lowered you down into the water. “That okay?”

You hummed. “It’s nice.”

He moved back and stared at your chest. “You’re right, they do float.”

You giggled. “Yeah, they do.”

He ran his hands all over your body. “Your body is so soft, beautiful and wonderful.” His fin ears wiggled. “I’m so excited to be with you.”

You wrapped your arms around Levi’s neck. “Me too. I’m a tiny bit nervous about my body, but I’m ready and I’m excited.”

He smiled and kissed you. “I’ve done a lot of research and I know how to pleasure you.” He pushed his hand down and palmed your clit and slit. “I can’t push my fingers into you like this, but I can eat you.”

You blushed. “You d-don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

Levi sank under the water and moved your legs over his shoulders so you were sitting on them. He massaged your thighs and eyed your slit, pussy and clit. He purred and blew bubbles against you. You clenched your legs around Levi’s head. You looked down to see the tip of his fin ears wiggling. You pulled his hair as you leaned backwards in pleasure.

Levi swam with you to the moonpool walls and pressed you against it to support you. He kept blowing bubbles against you and watched them pop. He stopped and attacked your clit with passion. He roughly took swollen nub into his mouth and ran his tongue over it. He hummed in happiness at how sweet you tasted. He pressed his mouth fully against you allowing him to suck hard.

You leaned your head back against the floor and cried out in pleasure. You tugged on Levi’s hair as your body shook above him. Levi slid his hands over to your bum and gripped hard knowing that his nails would leave marks on your soft skin. He released your clit and licked down to your pussy. He pushed his tongue in and let your honey coat his tongue. Levi moaned in delight at your sweet taste. He used his tongue to massage your g-spot.

You cried out and shuddered above him as your coil tightened up. You held Levi’s head tightly and whimpered as pleasure burned through you. You moaned as his tongue dragged up to your clit. You tugged Levi’s hair as you felt your coil snap. You shook above Levi as your pleasure rushed through every inch of you. You whimpered as Levi lapped up your cum as it escaped you.

Levi moved your legs and swam up to face you. He smiled at you as you panted. “Are you okay?”

You nodded and shivered. “Yes.”

His fin ears wiggled in delight. “I’m glad.”

“Can I see you?”

He blushed and swam over to the seat and pulled himself up on the seat. “You c-can.”

You shifted over and looked at his fin where it joined his torso. “It should be…” You ran your hands over his scales and dragged them to meet in the middle where you knew the cover was. You massaged where the cover was and watched it open a little and close. “Are you worried I won’t like it?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

You grabbed the edge and climbed up to kneel on the seats on either side of Levi and straddled him. You sat down as your fingers played with the cover. “I want to feel you inside me. I crave it.” You kissed him and hummed in happiness. “I want you, Levi. Please don’t hide who you are.”

“I love you.”

“I love you so much.” You felt the slit open a bit more. “Don’t you want to mate with me?”

He groaned. “I want to mate you.”

“Mate with me. Breed me. Love me.” You gasped when you felt something long, hard and hot against your hand run up your arm. You looked down to see Levi’s hard cock. You ran your hand up and down to feel he was wet and slick with a lubricant. “Incredible.” You marvelled at how it was similar to the colour of his scales. You knelt up and sank down on his cock a little. “Sh-shit.” Your eyes rolled back. “The fuck is on your dick?”

He grunted. “I forgot to tell you. The addictive sweetness that is my saliva also coats my penis.”

You sank down on him slowly. “Oh fuck I want it to ravage me.”

Levi ran his hands up your back. “Calm, my little bubble.”

You whimpered. “Levi, please.”

He massaged your thighs. “Good mate.” He grunted when your walls squeezed his dick. “Shit.”

Your pupils widened as you felt you were drugged. You grabbed Levi’s shoulders and started slamming your body up and down on Levi. You cried out as the head of his rock dragged past your g-spot and press your cervix. You opened your mouth and closed your eyes as you let pleasure burn through you. You tangled your fingers in Levi’s hair before yanking him against your breasts. You squeaked when Levi bit your right breast hard in your passionate moment.

You shifted your thighs and bucked as hard and as fast as you could. Levi’s smooth cool scales below slapped against your bum and added a cooling effect on your skin. You yanked Levi’s head back and licked his fin ear. You nibbled it making him moan in ecstasy. You moved your tongue on his fin causing him to shiver under you allowing you to know that you’d found his weakness. You pulled back and looked down at your lover.

Levi purred at you as his fin ears wiggled and a strong blush spread on his cheeks. “You’re so beautiful.”

You whimpered. “Levi. You feel so good.”

Levi moved his hand to where you both were connected. He ran his webbed fingers over your clit. “So beautiful. You’re such a good mate.”

You kept moving your hips as you chased your orgasm. “Yes, Levi.”

He grunted as you clenched him. “Good mate.”

You wrapped your arms around Levi and leaned over his shoulder and you bucked your hips against him. “Sh-shit.”

You moaned as Levi’s cock pressed all the right spots within you and his fingers touched you perfectly. You felt Levi’s addictive sheen on his cock was surging through every inch of you. You pulled back from his shoulder and pushed your tongue into his mouth to find the addiction come full circle. You shuddered as you felt yourself melting under his touch. You slammed down on Levi’s cock and felt bliss fire through you. You shivered and squeezed Levi’s cock over and over as you were blinded by pleasure.

Levi pulled from your lips and looked at your face as your orgasm ripped through you. He purred at you and wiggled his ears in happiness. “Beautiful.”

You panted and hummed. “I’m not, but thank you.”

“You are.” He slipped off the seat and held you close. “You’re perfect and you’re my mate.”

“You’re mine.”

He twirled with you and hummed. “Let me take care of you now.” He moved his tail backwards and forwards causing his cock to move in and out of you at a slow and loving pace. “Let me shower you in love, my little bubble.”

You locked your legs around him as best as you could. “Yes.”

Levi gripped your thighs and sighed as he moved in you. “Good little bubble.” He grunted. “You feel so good, so hot, so warm, so wet, so sweet.” He nipped your neck and licked after. “I love you.”

You shivered at the slow and loving movements. You focused on your pussy and enjoyed Levi’s hard cock slide out, then push back in nice and deep. You held Levi close as your fingers massaged the undercut of his hair. You turned your head and panted against the top of his fin ear. You shivered as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix and begged your body to let him fill it with his seed. You wanted Levi so badly to mate you, but your device was turned on so you had protection on.

Levi bit your neck hard and sucked. He moved his tongue over the bite allowing his addictive saliva to enter your body. He slid his hands across your skin to hold your bum. He gripped your bum hard and moved his tail to buck his cock into you. He covered your neck in bites and kisses. He hummed as he felt your pussy walls pull him back in as he pushed his cock in. He smiled against your skin knowing how badly your body wanted him.

He kissed your neck right where your voicebox was and smiled at feeling your moan vibrate against his lips. “Perfect.” He captured your lips and moaned. “I love you, mate. My sweet little bubble.”

You panted and whimpered. “You feel incredible. Your cock is incredible.”

He gripped your bum tightly as he moved his fin faster making his cock slam into your pussy. “You’re amazing.” He panted and moaned. “You’re wonderful, amazing and addictive. I want to mate with you always. I want to fill you. I want to always be inside you.”

You leaned your head back as pleasure burned through you. “Levi.”

“My beautiful little bubble.”

You whimpered as Levi rocked his dick deep into you. “Levi. I’m…” You whined. “Shit.”

He locked eyes with you. “Cum, my little bubble. Cum.”

You dragged your nails across Levi’s back and cried out as an orgasm burned through your body. You panted and rolled your hips to let your pleasure last as long as possible. “F-Fuck.”

Levi watched your bliss covered face and enjoyed how beautiful you looked as you came on his cock. “Stunning.”

You panted and hummed. “How are you so good?”

He smiled and kissed you. “All I’m doing is loving your body.” He nuzzled his face against yours. “Are you ready for some serious merman love?”

You blushed hard. “Yes.”

“I’m going to take you under the water. I’ll give you air.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll look after you.”

You kissed him. “Yes.”

Levi locked lips with you and spun you and him around as his mer instincts took over. He rolled with you and pulled you under the water as his body moved with yours. He pulled you deep and pressed you against the moonpool floor as he rammed his cock into you. He pushed air into your lungs allowing you to breathe. Levi slammed his hands onto the floor and gripped them so hard that his nails ripped into the metal. He growled and pushed air into your lungs again as he rutted against you.

You dragged your nails over Levi’s back as you kept your eyes closed. Your mind was racing at what was happening. You were overwhelmed by pleasure from Levi’s cock plunging into your pussy, his scales rubbing against your clit and being fed oxygen by your lover. You clung to Levi for dear life and enjoyed the dangerous pleasure he was giving you. You loved this, you loved Levi and you wanted to let him make love to you as a merman would normally do during mating.

Levi rolled around with you as he bucked into you hard and fast. He kept pushing air into your lungs to keep you going, but his worry did creep in and he began to think maybe he could turn you into a mermaid for a day to make love to you as a merperson would. He spun up as he wrapped his arms around you and kept pumping his cock into you. He popped up and broke the surface of the water allowing you to breathe air.

You gasped and panted. “Fuck!” You gasped again. “Levi.” You kissed him roughly and sighed through your nose. You hummed and whimpered as Levi bucked faster.

Levi pulled back and moaned your name. “Mate. I’m ready to mate.”

“Mate me. Please, Levi.”

He pressed you against the moonpool wall where there were no seats. He pressed his body hard against you as he moved his tail fast. “Mate. I need it.”

You leaned your head back. “F-Fuck. I’m…” You gasped as your coil tightened. “Levi.” You cried out as your orgasm rushed through you. Your pussy walls massaged Levi’s cock and begged him to fill you. “Levi.”

Levi grunted and held you close to him. He rammed into you as fast as he possibly could. He plunged deep into you as he came hard into you. He pumped ribbons of thick, sticky, hot, silvery cum inside you. He nuzzled your neck and purred at you as his fin ears wiggled. He hummed as his cum kept pouring into you. He pulled back a little and started covering your face in kisses as the last of his cum entered you.

You whimpered a little. “So much.”

He blushed hard. “I probably should have warned you more about how much merman cum.”

You hummed a laugh. “It’s okay. It feels good.” You nibbled your lip. “It stays in me for a while, right?”

He nodded shyly. “Yes. It’s sticky to combat the saltwater.”

“Wonderful.”

He pulled his cock from you and watched his cum and yours mixed together on him and pull in a small strand as he pulled away. “Fuck, that looks delicious.”

You blushed and looked down. “Oh, oh wow.”

Levi lifted you up and out of the pool. “Are you alright?”

You nodded. “Yeah.” You looked down to see some of Levi’s silver slightly thick cum seep out. “I’m great.”

He leaned on the side and studied you. “Are you really okay? I was a little rough.” He saw his claw marks on your thighs. He whined. “Look at those wounds.”

You looked down and lightly touched them. “It’s okay. I have healing things.”

He frowned when you didn’t move. He called your name. “Why aren’t you moving?”

You blushed. “I can’t move my legs.”

Levi panicked. “What!?”

You laughed. “I’m okay Levi, really. It’s just umm…you screwed me well and my legs are a little out of commission right now.”

Levi climbed out of the water and allowed himself to turn first before getting up. He stumbled about a little before walking to your medkit. He grabbed a booster shot for you and a bruising aid. He knelt next to you and injected you. He rubbed cream into the marks he’d made. “Need your bum.”

You rolled over for him. “All yours.”

He rubbed the cream into the little wounds on your bum. “There, all healed.”

You rolled back and sat up. “Thank you.”

“I tried not to go too merman feral on you.”

You slid closer and wrapped your arms around Levi. “You were perfect.” You touched the headpiece then the bracelets on his arms. “Did you wear all these for me?”

He nodded shyly. “Today was the end of courting because we mated. So, we’re bonded for life now.”

You held his hand and giggled. “I’m glad.”

He snuggled against you. “I adore you so much.”

“Me too.”

He ran his hand up the inside of your thigh. He massaged your skin and hummed. “I would like to try this human form to make love to you.”

You blushed. “Do you have some stamina left?”

He nodded. “Lots.”

You smiled. “Well, how about a snack, drink and pee break for ten minutes and then we try out your human body?”

He got up and picked you up. “Yes, my love.”

You giggled and hugged Levi. “You’re sweet.”

“Because I’m deeply in love with you.”

You hummed and nibbled your lip. “I adore you so much.”

“Me too.”

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

India Lima Yankee - Chapter 17

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 1472

Warnings: None

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when her Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: Chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: I Love You 18

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23

Rooster

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Juliette in the red lace dress with the sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps. Her blonde hair in perfect waves, the dainty silver chain with the diamond pendant resting on her sun-kissed skin, the sparkling earrings to match, the red-bottom black lace shoes- it was a look that could kill, and although Bradley hadn't been its first victim judging by the passionate kiss Hangman had Juliette in moments ago, Bradley certainly had the most agonizing death. Juliette could wear anything, but red had always been her color. It had always driven Bradley crazy; apparently, things hadn't changed. It still drove him nuts. She still drove him nuts. He still wanted her, but Juliette understandably wanted to avoid anything other than friendship with him after the truths that came out last night. Bradley, who had silently hated himself all these years for not returning to Jules after he'd walked out on her, for not having the courage to overcome his wounded pride and ego, for letting his fears control him, now despised himself further, something he didn't think was possible. Seeing Juliette silently sobbing after their fight, though, shattered his heart, but Bradley didn't dare tell her that. He did this to himself. Not her.

"Bradshaw!" A girl called out, the voice familiar but unrecognizable. "How dare you not come say hi to me first thing?"

Rooster turned towards the direction of his alleged acquaintance, a grin spreading across his face at the sight of Firefly, all dressed up with a crown and sash that said 'Bride to Be.' After today's near-brawl with Hangman and his fractured relationship with Jules, Rooster was glad to see a friendly face. He swaggered up to his old friend and lifted her in the air with a hug. "Good to see you, short stuff!"

"You're lucky I'm drunk and in a good mood!" She retorted with a laugh as he set her down. "Bend down for a sec- you're too tall, and I need to tell you something."

Rooster bent down. "Hmm?"

"This-" Firefly whacked him violently upside the head- "is for not telling me you were stateside. And this-" she slapped him upside the head again- "is for not saying hi to me the moment you knew I was here, which I know you did because Jules said she ran into you. Literally, I think. She said you're here for a special training detachment?"

"Yeah," Rooster replied, rubbing the back of his head ruefully. "I see you still pack a punch."

"I have to hold my own against all you giant hotshots some way. Why are you hiding over here when you should be hanging out with me and my girlfriends along with all the other men? You seriously going to let Hangman hit on Juliette?"

"After last night, I have a feeling she would rather I not join. Not to mention, she seemed perfectly content with the liplock Hangman had her in earlier."

Firefly waved a dismissive hand. "Trust me, I know about that. I wouldn't worry about it. And sweetheart, this is my bachelorette party, so if I say you can join, you can join. The girls and I are going to get people up and dancing, and son, I know you got moves, so you're joining."

"I don't get a choice in this, do I?"

"Nope!" Firefly turned on her heel and beelined for her group. Rooster nodded in defeated acceptance and followed her. Juliette, Phoenix, and a girl he didn't know were laughing hysterically over something, and none of them sobered up when Rooster approached, not even Juliette, which told him she was definitely inebriated. Without giving anyone warning, Firefly grabbed onto Juliette and Rooster's hands, dragging them over to the jukebox. Phoenix and Maria trailed closely behind them. Firefly came to a stop and flipped through the songs, asking, "What song should we dance to first?"

"Ooh! Footloose!" Maria pleaded, already punching in the numbers. "I've been rewatching the movie, and I'm dying to dance to it!"

"Footloose it is!" Firefly pressed play, and, once more, Rooster found himself being dragged by his friend to a makeshift dance floor. He noticed his fellow aviators joining from the corner of his eye. Much to his chagrin, Hangman finagled his way next to Juliette, who beamed excitedly up at him.

You had your chance, and you blew it. Leave her alone. Rooster chastised himself silently, attempting but failing to push down his rising jealousy. God, why did she have to look so good tonight? Did she know he was going to be here tonight? Did she purposefully wear the outfit to drive him crazy? He doubted it. Juliette didn't play those games. Besides, hadn't Firefly said not to worry about the kiss between Jules and Hangman? What was that about? Because those two seemed cozier than ever. It's not like he could ask Juliette about it. After last night, talking to Rooster would be at the bottom of her to-do list.

The song started up, and Firefly gave Rooster no further opportunity to dive deeper down into his pit of regret and jealousy, although Juliette never strayed far from his mind, especially when, at some point, she ended up next to him. She danced her heart out to each and every song, singing along at the top of her lungs, her angelic voice harmonizing with the artists. Rooster could barely take his eyes off of her. Only when Hangman grabbed Juliette's hand and spun her into him did Bradley avert his gaze.

Deciding he was hot and tired of dancing, Rooster slipped away from the group and went up to the bar, ordering a beer. He'd hardly been there two seconds when Hangman, the last possible person he wanted to be around, joined him at the counter. The egotistical pilot ordered a beer as well, then turned to Rooster and said, "Bradshaw, I need to apologize."

It took all of Bradley's willpower not to choke on his drink. "You're going to have to be more specific."

"For earlier today, when I insinuated that Mav had something to do with your dad's death. It was uncalled for and a dick move even for me, so I'm sorry." Although he struggled to get the words out, Hangman sounded genuine in his apology. What prompted it, Rooster had no idea.

"Thanks…" Bradley replied hesitantly, still not entirely over what Hangman insinuated about Maverick playing a part in Goose's death. No matter how Rooster felt about his surrogate dad now, it would never change the fact that Maverick mourned Goose the same as Carole Bradshaw; when Goose died, Maverick lost his best friend, his brother, his other half. On more than one occasion, Rooster heard Maverick talking, sometimes shouting, in his sleep, "Eject! Goose, eject!" When Mav would tell him bedtime stories, it was always stories of his dad and what the two of them got up to during school and in the Navy. These, along with so many others, were why Bradley could never blame Maverick for his father's death, even if Mav had been flying the plane. He'd never lost the guilt over losing his RIO, and Rooster would defend his surrogate dad from anyone who declared otherwise.

An awkward silence fell between the two pilots while Hangman waited for his beer. Rooster kept his eyes ahead, unintentionally where Juliette sang along to some pop song about an ex with the other girls. Hangman, apparently not done talking, asked, "Bradshaw, can I give you some advice?"

"Absolutely not," Rooster responded shortly, knowing fully well that his comrade would speak anyway.

"Don't let her go a second time."

Bradley frowned, finally tearing his gaze from Juliette to lock onto Hangman. "Excuse me?"

"Don't let her go a second time," he repeated, nodding at Jules. "Don't act around her like you do in the sky. When you see your shot, take it."

Hangman sent him a short nod, then returned to their fellow aviators, leaving Rooster more than a little dumbfounded. What depth of Hell had frozen over to possess Hangman to apologize? What Stranger Things upside-down kind of world had Rooster entered? The questions evaporated from his mind when he saw Hangman next to Juliette, smiling down at her with an expression Rooster understood all too well. Now he understood Jake's words, which hadn't been mere advice. They'd been a warning, too. If Rooster didn't make his move on Juliette, Hangman would, and Bradley had no doubt Juliette would agree to a date with Hangman. The mere idea of those two together made Bradley nauseous. He couldn't let that happen. If Bradley and Juliette were still in love with each other, then surely they could find a way to work it out.

He had to try.

***

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