#so parcels are marked as delivered

[blood-orange-juice]

It's that season again when the Dutch post stops working.

(along with all other delivery services)

*sighs*

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @mochie85 divider by @fictive-sl0th <3

Summary: It's been a long time coming... But now the day for you and Loki to say 'Yes' and enter the bond of marriage has finally arrived. A covenant for eternity.

Chapter One - Of Cakes and Dances

Warnings for this Chapter: fluff, bit of suggestive smut

Word Count: 2,6k

a/n: We officially start our road to the wedding, guys! 🥳 In this chapter we have some cake tasting and dancing. Enjoy! 🤗

A huge shoutout goes out in this chapter to @chennqingg ! She crafted the beautiful wedding invitation! Thank you so, so much, my friend! 💚

💍 Chapter Zero °☆• Chapter Two 💍

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• A Covenant for Eternity Masterlist (coming soon!)

A rather loud knock against the main door of Loki's (and now as well yours) apartment echoed through the hallway and rooms; even reaching you in the bathroom.

Not that this was a problem so 'early' in the morning - well, not usually, but today was Saturday and both you and Loki had your 'day off'. Given that fact, your fiancé was still sound asleep and you, well... You had just stepped out of the shower mere minutes ago.

"Gimme one minute, pwease!" You called out of the door frame; tooth brush in mouth.

After quickly getting dressed and at least halfway ready, you jogged towards the door; opening it slightly out of breath.

"Morning, babes!"

Natasha was standing in front of it; big smile on her face and a small sized parcel in her hand.

She immediately noticed your laboured breath and flushed face, of course - and Nat being Nat, she couldn't let this just pass.

"Had to dismount your princely stud first?" Your best friend asked boldy; throwing you a dirty smile and wink.

You blinked.

"What? I- No! Nat!" Once your brain had caught up you immediately 'defended' yourself; gently slapping her shoulder while laughing. "You and your dirty mind! Geez, I was just having a shower and about to get ready for the day. You were the one interrupting me and forcing me to hurry, babes! Besides is my..." You lifted your hands to draw quotation marks into the air, in order to quote Nat. "... princely stud still asleep."

The widow had done nothing but smirk and giggle while you had explained 'the situation'.

Now she shrugged her shoulders. "We both know it could've been both." "Oh shut up!" You giggled and then proceeded to hug her. Only halfway unfortunately, because the little parcel was kind of in the way.

"What have you got here?" You asked then; nodding at said rectangular carton box. "The reason why I am here." Your best friend smiled. "I was just returning from a run, when the postman delivered this for you - and I may have a guess what it is..."

The gears in your head were turning, until realisation hit you; eyes widening.

"The wedding invitations!" Natasha nodded. "Yup! I mean, it's about time they arrive. We've only got three months left..."

Three months... Three... Natasha was right. Only 85 days left until you were going to marry the love of your life.

"By the Norns... How did the year go by so quick? I could swear Loki just proposed to me and now we are already getting married?" Your best friend giggled, "Well, like I already said... It was about time for Loki to get that ring." and handed you the parcel. "If you need help with these... You know where to find me." The widow gave you a wink, then turned to leave. "I'll see you!"

You smiled. "Bye! And thanks, babes!"

Later that Saturday - after you finished your business in the bathroom and Loki had made it to leave the bed as well, the both of you took a look inside the parcel together. Until now, you had just seen a rough blueprint of the invitations and not the originals. Excitedly, you opened up the package - and couldn't believe your eyes. They were absolutely stunning. Beyond your expectations. "Baby, look at that..." You carefully took one in your hands. Loki just chuckled, "I am looking, darling." and leaned over to press a kiss against your temple. "I love them!" You stated; eyes still clued to the green and golden card.

The god nodded approvingly. "Indeed. They are beautifully crafted. More than fit for an invitation to a royal wedding."

You giggled. "Yeah? Are they fulfilling the princely expectations?" Loki gently squeezed your side. "Of course, love." "Shall we send them out then? It's time, isn't it?" He smiled at you; blue eyes shining with love and anticipation. "I'd be more than happy to do so."

You and Loki spent the rest of the day with folding the invitations, putting them inside an envelope, labelled said envelopes and of course send them out. Some of them were handed over personally and some reached their receiver with a little help of seidr.

Sending out invitations wasn't the only thing you and Loki had to still 'get done' for the wedding. Oh no... Two big things were still scribbled on the 'to-do' list - of which one was to practise your wedding dance.

You and Loki had already chosen the songs and a 'choreography' was made. The only thing what you still had to do now, was practising. Your soon-to-be husband hadn't really a problem - given the fact that he was a prince. He learned how to dance in his youth.

As for you... Well... You struggled a little bit, but you were confident. Plus, you had the best teacher...

"No, my love," the god spoke through the music with a chuckle; shaking his head. A snap of his finger later, the song stopped. "You..." He adjusted your arm around his shoulder gently. "...have to keep your arm like that. Unless I won't be able to lift you properly." You sighed. "Sorry, babe. Asgardian dancing isn't my cup of tea, I'm afraid." Once more Loki shook his head; the man bun keeping his curls from tickling your arm. "No, don't say that. You never danced like this before - of course you need more time and practice." "Yeah, but... We already practised this about ten times..."

Loki chuckled. "Yes and you're doing wonderfully. Do you wish to know how long it took me to learn all this?" You just nodded. "Over a year." That left you speechless. "Exactly. Now come on." Loki got into position. "Let's do it again." You agreed; getting into position as well. "At least I can waltz and we have to practice part two of our dance not remotely as much..." "You say that as if it meant nothing, darling. I'd be so bold and say that not every Midgardian woman can waltz." "Yes, but-" "Ah.Ah," Loki tutted; interrupting you. "No buts. You are my dancing queen." His words left you blushing, and before you were able to say something, he 'switched on' the music again.

You quickly tried to focus; recalling the dance steps you had learned already - and it worked. It really worked. You smiled as you moved with Loki over the rich marble floor in one of the dance halls in Asgard.

Practising in Asgard? Yes. Why? Loki insisted, since one: The actual dance would take place here as well, so it was better for the practice and two: Because the professional dance lessons (if you would choose to take some) were for free. Plus, nearly every Asgardian was a literal dance professional...

Since you (and Loki) wanted to keep things even and make a mix of an Asgardian and Midgardian wedding, the dance consisted of two components. You'd start with the Asgardian part and then switch over to the Midgardian. Two realms, two songs - and actually two dances. The waltz was no problem for you, but the Asgardian dance style was...

With the ending of the last tunes of the beautiful musical piece, you and Loki took your 'final position' as well. Your right arm draped over his shoulder; hand resting on the nape of his neck. His right arm was in the exact same position. Your forehead was leaned against his; skin on skin and eye to eye.

The god smiled, "Well done, love." and broke the position to catch your lips in a small, gentle kiss. "See? You did it." "Almost," you corrected him, but couldn't help but smile as well. Loki rolled his eyes - still with that smirk on his face, "We'll get to it, I promise." and took a step back. "Let's start again."

Loki distanced himself from you and got into position, with his hands crossed behind his back. Then he snapped and the song started from the beginning. The both of you started to walk towards each other graciously. Once you were an arm length away from your soon-to-be husband, you curtsied. Just like Loki took a bow. In rhythm with the music, your right palm found his left palm; forearm to forearm and other hand neatly resting on yours and Loki's back - and so you started to dance.

Loki slipped into a fresh t-shirt, while he made his way towards the bathroom. Knocking gently, he called out your name; gaining your attention.

"Love? Are you ready? We have to go in about ten minutes. Unless we'll be late."

Loki's 'wake-up call' caused your eyes to widen slightly. You may or may not have forgotten the time a little bit while showering... "I'm on my way, babe!" You quickly hopped out of the shower and into a fresh pair of underwear, before blow-drying your hair - at least a little bit (It was late summer, so actually not a big problem since it was pleasantly warm outside.), and got dressed in your baby blue summer dress.

Once you left the bathroom, your fiancé was already waiting for you; leaning against the wall with the car keys in hand.

"Are we ready?" You smiled and stepped up to him; winding your arms around his neck. "Eager to go?" The god chuckled. "It's about cake, darling. Of course I am eager."

You giggled and pecked his lips. "Let me just grab my purse and then we can leave." Loki nodded; watching you walk past him.

The two of you had an appointment today at the best pâtisserie in down town New York City in order to do a cake tasting. It was about the wedding cake, of course and you both agreed that it would be best to try some things first, before you'd decide about the interiority of the three-tier wedding cake. The design and decoration was already set and arranged with the pâtisserie. Now you and Loki had to do the 'fun' part... Tasting different fillings and flavours.

Your destination was a twenty minute car ride away from the Avengers compound. Give or take.

Luckily the traffic was not a complete chaos, so you made it to arrive in time.

The pâtisserie was bustling with people - of course. After all, it was the best in down town; yes, probably in whole New York City.

With your hand snugly wrapped up in Loki's bigger hand, you waited patiently in line until it was your turn. "Hi, we have an appointment for a wedding cake tasting," you explained to the friendly looking young man behind the counter. His eyes widened when he looked at you and Loki; recognising the both of you for sure. "Oh, uh, yes, give me a second, please..." He said nervously, looked down and seemed to search for something, until- "Ah, yes. Please follow me." You nodded with a smile. The young man's cheeks reddened and he smile bashfully back at you.

You and Loki followed him then to a little back room with two doors, a small grey sofa, white counter and some bar stools. The wall was painted in a beautiful shade of pastel orange and a few art pictures hung here and there. It looked quite neat and cosy.

"Have a seat, please." The man gestured towards the sofa. "Riley will be with you in a minute." You smiled, "Thank you." while your fiancé gave him a nod. Once more the young guy smiled shyly and fumbled nervously with his fingers. "It's an honour to have you here, Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Laufeyson."

For the first time since you entered the pâtisserie, Loki spoke up; leapfrogging you. "Well, it's a pleasure to be here." You silently agreed with the god; who still held your hand in a snug grip and made sure you were standing close to him.

Even though you were about to be married, he still showed the people who you belonged to. Guess some things never change, you thought with a smile; looking at your engulfed hand. You didn't care, though. Quite the opposite... Loki's slight possessiveness was attractive and admittedly sexy in your eyes.

The man opposite you blushed in a dark shade of red, "That's great to hear." before shuffling his feet. He was on the verge of leaving the room, but before he did, he turned around to face you and Loki once again; seemed now to have scratched all his bravery together and ask: "I-I know this is p-probably inappropriate to ask, b-but may I get an autograph l-later?"

You smiled brightly. The guy was kinda cute, you couldn't deny that. "Of course. Just hit us up before we leave again."

The young man's eyes twinkled with happiness - and relief. "T-Thank you." Then he left the little room and you and Loki alone.

About five minutes later, the other door at the side wall opened and in came a woman in 'workwear', bright pink hair, glasses and quite a few piercings.

You and Loki were sitting on the sofa - like instructed; hands still intertwined and resting in your lap. Your free hand was on Loki's thigh, close to his knee. When you saw the woman, you both stood up.

"Hi there!" She said in a happy, enthusiastic tone and crossed the distance to meet you and shake your hands. "I'm Riley, we talked on the phone. Nice to meet you." You shook her hand, smiling. "Y/N and Loki." The friendly woman winked, "I know." shook Loki's hand as well and gestured for the counter with the bar stools. "Shall we move over?" "Sure." You and the god followed her. She went behind the counter and you both got comfortable on the stools.

"Alright!" Riley drummed her fingertips slightly on the wooden surface; smiling. "We already talked about your wedding cake in general a few months back. All that's missing are the fillings - and that's why you're here today. I prefer to do that in terms of a tasting, because it guarantees that the cake is really after your taste. But, before we do that I have to ask if you'd like to make any last minute changes, regarding the style or decoration of the cake?"

You and your fiancé exchanged a look and simultaneously shook your heads. "No, it's perfect the way it is."

Riley clapped her hands. "Alright. I'll go, fetch the things we need and then we can start, yes?" "Perfect, thank you."

Just a few minutes later, she returned with a big tray full of small, round cakes. They were neatly arranged and, of course, labelled. Riley put the tray down on the counter in front of you and Loki. Your eyes roamed over the different cakes with their different fillings and you just couldn't wait to taste them.

"Okay," started Riley with a smile. "I put together a wide range of different stuff and flavours. We've got some classics like vanilla, chocolate and strawberry, but also a few special - some might say exotic flavours like mango, melon and matcha, and of course some which are refined with alcohol and coffee."

"Start which whatever you like." That was a sentence you and Loki didn't let yourself tell twice. You dived right in, always splitting the tiny cake in half and tasted the delicious treats.

Both, you and your soon-to-be husband didn't think that deciding on three different flavours for your wedding cake was that difficult - but by the Norns, it was. Almost everything just tasted absolutely wonderful and exactly that was the problem - and that you and Loki had different favourites...

"Okay, okay..." You said, taking a deep breath. "Compromise, babe. You decide on the top cake, I get the bottom one and we choose the middle together?" The god nodded; giving you a smile. "Agreed."

In the end, Loki chose chocolate-mint, you mango-maracuya and together you decided on something with a little kick - Baileys. Three completely different flavours, hopefully one for everybodys taste.

Here's the beautiful invitation @chennqingg designed!

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jaidenhawke @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @herdetectivetheorist @hisredheadedgoddess28 @chennqingg @princess-ofthe-pages @km-ffluv @brokenpoetliz @huntedmusicgardenn @lokiforever @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loz-3 @jaguarthecat @icytrickster17 @eleniblue @yourfriendlyslytherinhc @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @kimanne723 @lou12346789 @smolvenger @lokisrealpurpous @isaidoop @lokisgoodgirl @aagn360 @cakesandtom @alexakeyloveloki @glitchquake (Continuing in the comments!)

[shimishimii]

six degrees of separation

CH 2 | main masterlist | ♡ | prev | ♡ | next |

It takes 20 to 500 years for a plastic to break down, and for Kuroo Tetsurou, it takes a month.

He drags his feet towards the door, unlocking it. He rubs his eyes, yawning, must be already 3 pm, but at least he was able to sleep. at least, even for a few hours.

He drags his hand on his face, feeling his stubble, it’s been a few days since he last shaved. You didn’t mind him with this look. You tell him he looks like those mafia men you see on your instagram reels when he is in his suit, and in pajamas, he looks like that burn out dad who takes care of three kindergarteners and a rebel high school daughter. He smiles sadly at the memory.

He looks at the packages at his doorstep. There were a few parcels and a box. His phone chimes.

Order delivered.

Order delivered.

Order delivered.

There was one without notification, the largest. It is a box with the width of his body and a height just below his knee. It did not have the label of the online shopping platform.

It was not something he wanted.

He sees your name from the label of sender.

Maybe it was something he needed.

With both of his hands, he picks up the box, ever so gently, afraid of breaking precious things, something he was not able to do before. He uses his feet to kick the three parcels inside of his apartment.

Kuroo walks around his living room. The box seems like staring at him intently, still unopened on his coffee table. It was a silent testament to everything he had lost and everything he yearned to regain. He couldn't bring himself to open it, afraid of confronting the memories it held within—memories that would only deepen the ache in his heart.

He wants to run to you, apologize a thousand times, but he could not fix what was broken.

He opens the box after almost an hour.

A hoodie, a board game, sleeping mask, other small items. He didn’t mind if you kept these anyway, most of them belongs to you, at least when you were his. Now, there are no reasons for you to keep these, or keep memories of him.

Among the items in the box, he was worried the most on the stack of polaroid photos. Why would also return him the photos of you together?

Was it to remind him what he lost? Was he really out of your life?

His fingers lingered on the photographs, tracing the contours of your smile, the warmth in your eyes. The first photo, marked on the first month you met, when he lets you lean on his shoulders while he plays that game he immediately bought because the main character reminds him so much of you. And when you are not around, at least he could remember you, even in his hobbies.

Second photo, on the fourth month, it’s simply a photo of you together smiling. He remembers how often his friends would pull you whenever Kuroo would get frustrated. Because the frown on his face would slowly disappear, and a wave of bliss would embrace him whenever he sees you.

Third photo, the seventh month, you are in his arms. That was the first time he saw you cry. He wanted to see you cry, not hide them from him. He would like you to feel safe and vulnerable around him, because he was willing to stay through it all.

Fourth photo, the ninth month, in an expensive dinner date where you laughed with him because of his clip-on tie. Kuroo was too nervous that he felt his necktie choking him. Everything about you just makes him nervous.

He picks up the polaroid. And he remembers how everything about you is pretty and all he ever wanted to see you. When he wakes up, and before he sleeps. Your hair, your clothes, and even the makeup styles you try. He wishes he could see you right now, in those unmatching pajamas, with that soft smile on your lips.

Kuroo was willing to give up anything just to spend his day telling how pretty you are, and how much he still loves you.

It was love, as he believed. This feeling. He was satisfied of how things are. Too satisfied he barely noticed the cracks that started to form.

He knows he was at fault. But he is unsure if getting back together would be healthy for both of you. He loved you, but he feared that blindly embracing that love would only lead to more pain than happiness—for both of you.

He feels standing in a road, in the middle of nowhere, as twilight surrounds him, and he has a few hours before the sun hides. Before he becomes lost in darkness forever.

He doesn’t want to lose you. Too bad, he already did.

Kuroo wishes.

hopes.

silently prays.

pleads.

just one sign—

His phone is ringing. A random pop song plays. Your name appears. He reminds himself to visit a temple later and offer his gratitude.

He wastes no time picking up your call.

[Greetings and salutations.]

Kuroo tries to hold his laugh.

[Meet me at this address I will send in a minute. At 7 pm.]

Kuroo was about to say something. maybe apology, or how he misses you. But he stayed silent. His mouth kept shut, like what he did before. He hates himself why he stayed silent that night.

[Oh. And I called, not texted, because this is urgent.]

“Sure, good—”

You ended the call.

Well, at least that was a start, Kuroo thinks.

It’s just 5 pm. But Kuroo, like an anxiety driven teenage boy getting ready for a first date, hurried to his closet to pick an outfit. He pauses for a moment, worried at his own excitement.

Kuroo arrives ten minutes before the agreed time. Just outside of the building. He was confused if he got the address right. Because that building is a law firm. So now you’re suing him?

His attention shifted when he noticed your familiar silhouette. a little girl is in your arms, and you are smiling at a man who is making the girl laugh, in front of a law firm.

His eyebrows furrowed. A computation runs in his mind. The little girl seemed to be 3 years of age based on her height. Were you married and had a family in just a month? He shakes his head, that’s impossible right? He hasn’t moved on yet and you have a family? And why at the law firm?

You turn around and caught the moment his face was still in a frown. You offer a small smile to acknowledge him.

Kuroo walks towards you, but he felt his feet dragging across the sidewalk. His feet feel like sinking in the cement. He looks down to see if it was under construction, but it looks perfectly fine, maybe he was the one who isn’t.

“We can talk in my office, it’s cold out here.”

Kuroo only nods at the man who spoke, trying his best not to look at your direction. He can’t look at you, even how much badly he wants to.

Once you were all settled into the office, a stern-looking man maybe in his early 30s, began to speak.

"Thank you both for coming on such short notice", he started, shuffling some papers on his desk.

Hmm, so he is a lawyer. Kuroo looks at the nameplate on his table.

"As you might have guessed, we're here to discuss the future of little Rika." the lawyer says before Kuroo could overthink the possibility of you suing him for breaking your heart. And even if you did sue him, he would immediately say he’s guilty.

Kuroo glanced at you, but your face was unreadable. The furrow on his eyebrows deepened. But after seeing Rika, he felt a sense of relief that you don’t have a daughter, or husband, and was not married at all. But Kuroo was still confused at the situation.

You try to ignore Kuroo’s stares. Calling him was already a life-threatening risk you took earlier. Sure, you kind of moved on. But you can only feel you are over it when he is not around.

"The deceased named both of you as the primary guardians in the event of her untimely death. That's why Rika is here." The lawyer gestured towards the child who was currently occupied with a coloring book on a nearby table.

“Deceased? Guardians?” Kuroo asks. “I think I’m missing something” He looks at Rika then you, “a lot actually.”

Without looking at him you reply, “Reiko had an accident this morning.”

“Reiko? you mean our neighbor?” Before Kuroo could even correct the word ‘our’, you nodded.

Reiko was your neighbor but moved out a month ago. Your friendship began after complaining to the landlord who asks payment for rent more than what has been written in the contract. As a single mom, Reiko was struggling to balance her time too. Because of that, you and Kuroo would offer to babysit Rika during afternoons so Reiko could rest.

You were not able to tell her that you and Kuroo broke up. You felt that Reiko was getting busy trying to look for a daycare for Rika. You only told her Kuroo was busy and only you could babysit Rika for the past few weeks.

“The funeral was brief.” you took a deep breath before continuing, “you know she had no family, her late husband was also an orphan, there’s no one—no one else for Rika” the last line was almost a whisper, you tried your best to hide the crack in your voice.

Kuroo felt a pang in his chest.

You have not yet accepted the grief. After your struggles, you felt your emotions getting locked. Your body felt stiff and freezing after hearing the doctors declare her death but could only cry after realizing Reiko was not simply sleeping and was actually gone. Your tears were able to release the pain you felt but you were unable to face the reality of losing someone. Someone you trusted, cared, loved.

“I want to help as much as I can” Kuroo says, hesitancy present in his tone. "…but we're not actually together anymore," Kuroo blurted out, his eyes darting between you and the lawyer.

Kuroo fidgets with his hand, "And I... I’m not sure about raising a child."

The lawyer gave a small nod, "I understand your concerns, Mr. Kuroo. But the deceased had clearly stated in her will that both of you were her first choice. She trusted you two."

"But there must be other options, right? Does she have any relatives? What about adoption?" Kuroo asked, desperation seeping into his voice. It’s not like he doesn’t want to take care of Rika, who is now looking at him with curiosity.

Kuroo has been questioning himself a lot lately. He was not able to take care of you to make you stay. He was lacking in all dimensions not just a boyfriend, but as a person too. How could he even know he can take care of a child?

He can take care of Rika, provide her needs, give her love and attention. But he feels broken himself.

Kuroo is afraid to raise a child when he himself is also just a child who needs to grow up.

"Adoption is indeed an option," the lawyer said, his voice calm and steady, "but it's not the ideal situation. The transition for the child can be quite difficult, and she would have to adjust to a completely new environment. Besides, she knows you two. You're familiar to her. That's a comfort."

Your mind was running different trails of thought. Reiko, who became your best friend, is really gone. You feel your heart clenching for Rika, who lost her mother at a young age. Most importantly, you want to take care of Rika, regardless of being with Kuroo or not.

Kuroo looked at you and Rika then, pleading in his eyes. "We could try, for Rika’s sake," he suggested, almost begged. "We could...we could figure this out. Together?” he sounded so unsure.

You were silent most of the time, only responding to the lawyer through nod and shrugs.

Rika walks towards you, drawing hearts on your palm. As if she was giving her heart in your hand.

"Let's do it," you said, surprising Kuroo. He looked at you, his eyes wide with surprise and disbelief. "We owe it to Reiko,” you hold Rika’s little hands, “and to Rika."

The lawyer nodded, seemingly pleased with your decision. "That's a wise decision. I'll prepare the necessary papers and we'll have to go through a few legal procedures. In the meantime, you two should decide on the living arrangements."

Kuroo nodded, his mind racing with questions and worries. He glanced at you, and you gave him a small smile. It was a smile of reassurance, of understanding. It was a smile that told him, no matter what happened before or what the future holds, you are now in this together. And that gave him the strength he needed.

As you left the office, Kuroo took a look back at Rika who is now in your arms. She was looking at the stars that filled the sky, oblivious to the changes happening around her. He felt a strange sense of responsibility towards her. And he knew, at that moment, that he would do everything he could to make her feel loved and safe.

For the first time since you met tonight, you met his gaze.

And for a moment, just a moment, Kuroo thought he saw a flicker of hope.

As Kuroo and you separated ways, the future remained uncertain. You had agreed to raise Rika together, but where did that leave your relationship?

taglist (open): @notsaelty @sparklyglitterangel @lvrlamp @letthewindlead @lemurzsquad

hello lovely hoomans! I hope your day is as beautiful as you. this chapter reminded me of the people I miss, lost, and the relationships I want to fix. it's sad how love feels stronger and painful when the people you love are no longer there

[howlingday]

Ok but imagine what would happen if Loid and Perry teamed up? No one could stop them.

Okay... Time for something new...

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AGENT T

A Phineas and Ferb/Spy X Family One-Shot

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"An extended conference overseas?"

"Yes, it's a sort of outreach programs between different countries to share different psychiatric methods." Loid explained to Yor. "I'm sorry this is so last minute. I will try to call you as soon as I get back."

Lying to Yor felt wrong, but it was a necessary evil in his life as a spy. The truth was that he was assisting in a joint operation with a foreign intelligence agency, though the whole thing felt like a bad joke to him. Whoever heard of a spy agency under the title of "The Organization Without a Cool Acronym"? Regardless of his feelings, his mission was clear. He was to rendezvous with the agent known as "The Platypus" and provide backup as required.

"Papa?" Anya, his daughter, pointed to picture in her book. Coincidentally, it was a platypus. "Is this a plassapess?"

"No, it isn't." Loid shook his head. "Just because I'll be gone for a little bit doesn't mean you're allowed to shirk on your studies. I expect nothing less than perfect marks when I return home."

"Aw..." Anya groaned.

"Loid, where is this conference being held?" Yor asked.

"I wasn't given the exact details myself, but it's in a region known as the 'Tri-State Area'."

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"And that's about the gist of the assignment, Agent P." Major Monogram said through the video screen. "Find out what Dr. Doofenshmirtz is up to and put a stop to it!"

"If it's evil, sir." Carl's voice said off-screen.

"Yes, yes, if it's evil, put a stop to it." Major Monogram rolled his eyes. "We're counting on you, Agent P."

Perry the Platypus gave a salute and left the briefing room.

"I thought the evil thing was implied, Carl." Major Monogram grumbled.

"It doesn't hurt to be sure, sir. Words can be confusing."

"Not as confusing as this finger trap." The major lifted his hands to reveal his fingers had been locked in a threaded snare trap for fingers"

"Did you put your fingers in that trap again, sir?"

"Carl, we've been over this; if I don't do it myself, then how will I learn when I need it most?"

--------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, in the middle of a city in the tri-state area, at an oddly designed building with the logo, Doofenshmirtz Evil Inc.~, Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz heard a knock at his door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" He opened the door to an elderly man delivering the mail. He was fragile and hunched over. In his hands was a clipboard and a large parcel behind him. "Oh, look at you! You're so old! Why aren't you retired yet? Here, come inside and rest for a bit. I can show you what you're delivering is being used for."

The elderly man hobbled in, his left leg limping with every step. He mumbled something alike to a thank you before being seated on a large loveseat inside a laboratory. Unknown to the oddly kind-hearted doctor, the old man was actual the legendary Agent Twilight in perfect disguise. In front of him was a massive ray-gun of sorts, like in the cartoons Anya watched, with a scope and a trigger beneath. At the tip of the barrel was a missing component.

"So, you're probably wondering what it is I'm building with a mind-tapping helmet." He held out his hands. "Oh, I'm a little rusty. I usually save these backstories for my nemesis, Perry the Platypus, but here goes." Through Agent Twilight's perfect mental imagery, every word spoken became a clear picture of the very sad and tragic backstory of the target. "You see, back when I was growing up in Gimmelshtump, it's a town in Drusselstein if you didn't know, my grandparents would always say something, but mean something else. Like, they would tell me to wash the ham, but what they really meant was marinate it, but it was one of those old sayings that grandparents use and, me being a child, I didn't know what they really meant because I'd only heard it said once." He ripped open the parcel, was handed the mind-tapping helmet, and held it to the device. "And that's when I came up with this! BEHOLD, THE SAYWHAT'SONYOURMIND-INATOR!" He then climbed his way to the apex of the machine. "With this inator, people will say what's on their mind and mean what they really say! Like, say your friends want to hang out and, I don't know, do old person things, like play cards, but the way they say it makes it sound like they want to sleep all day, so they'll say what's on their mind! Here, let me try it on you!"

Faster than Agent Twilight can react, the nefarious doctor was already on the ground and using his weapon on him. He was then hit with the powerful radio waves the machine emitted. He blinked.

"I don't feel any different." He said aloud. "Did this mad scientist's machine really work-" His eyes widened as the doctor laughed for a moment.

"Hey, who are you calling a mad scientist? I'm not mad. I mean, I'm mad now, but I'm not always mad." He looked to the platypus climbing out of the parcel package. "Perry the Platypus, tell him I'm not always mad." The platypus in the fedora chittered. "See? He gets it." At this, he gasped. "PERRY THE PLATYPUS?! Wait, were you able to hear my backstory while I you were inside the- OOF!"

Perry punched Dr. Doofenshmirtz, sending him stumbling backwards into his machine. The machine fired off in a random direction before being taken into the hands of its creator.

"There's no need to fight me, Perry the Platypus. Why don't you just-" He fired the inator on Perry. "USE YOUR WORDS! AHAHAHAHA~!"

Perry winced at the sudden radio waves bombarding him. He blinked a few times. He was looked at expectantly by his nemesis.

"Chkchkchkchkt."

"Oh, right. You're a platypus." He then pressed a button on his inator and a net flew out and ensnared Perry. "But I planned for that!" A punch flew in from out of nowhere, knocking the doctor over with his inator. Standing not far away was the old man from before. "What are you doing, Old Man?"

"My name," the mask ripped, revealing the spy, "is Agent Twilight, and on behalf of the good people of Westalis, I order you to surrender your weapon."

"Westalis? Where is that? Is he with you, Perry the Platypus?"

"Chkchkchkchkt."

"I won't allow you to threaten the good people of the world with this strange contraption." Agent Twilight said, fully removing his disguise. "Especially while I am assigned to this joint operation."

"Well, I didn't really have anything planned for someone bigger than Perry the Platypus, but I did have this in case he escaped!" With a push of a button, another net of ribbon spewed forth. Unfortunately, the new agent was too fast to be caught and rolled his way over to Agent P, where he easily ripped apart his bindings. "No, no, don't do that! That is so unfair, fighting two against one!" He groaned. "Of all the days for Norm to take one of his 'mandatory vacation days'."

This vacation day in question included going to the mechanic for a semi-spa treatment involving oil, rags, and oily rags. Back to the fight, Agent Twilight kept the doctor on his toes, swinging fist after fist, easily overpowering his opponent. Meanwhile, Agent P was altering the inator by turning the mind-control helmet around so that the machine would reverse its effects.

"I cannot fail here. I cannot allow my emotions to get the better of me. I must keep on my toes. I need to keep applying pressure and overwhelm my opponent with quick, but meaningful strikes."

"Ugh! I regret hitting you with my inator." Dr. Doofenshmirtz groused amidst his thrashings. "Why can't you be more quiet like Perry the Platypus?"

"Chkchkchkchkt." The OWCA agent chittered from atop before swinging the inator around and firing it on himself Agent Twilight. Agent P patted himself down before giving a thumbs up to his fellow agent from afar.

"Oh, finally! I didn't think you would ever stop talking!" Dr. Doofenshmirtz groused even more.

Agent Twilight was about to go in for another punch when he was dragged away by Agent P. Looking back to the inator, he saw that there was a self-destruct device placed at the device's weak point. Jumping over the balcony, Agent P held tight to Agent Twilight, the two silently gliding through the air to a safe location. On the winds, they could hear the defeated shouting of their shared nemesis for the day.

"YOU DON'T NEED AN INATOR TO KNOW THIS, BUT CURSE YOU, STRANGE OLD MAN, AND CURSE YOU, PERRY THE PLATYPUS!"

A GENT P~!.

--------------------------------------------------

"Excuse me, is this your platypus?"

"Huh?" Phineas turned around to see a man standing in their yard, holding Perry in his hands. "Oh, there you are, Perry!"

"I found him wandering around in your front yard, and I thought it was odd to see an animal so far from their home."

"He's not far from his home, he's simply living in a new home away from his natural habitat. We feed him four meals a day, plus treats, and give him as much comfort as possible." Ferb explained in excess.

"Oh, I... see..."

"Yeah, sorry about Ferb." Phineas explained. "He's been a lot more talkative than usual today. It's almost like some kind of radio wave went off and made him say everything that was on his mind."

"That's... quite an imaginative explanation." The man said. "But maybe this will help. I specialize in psychiatric help and this device helps ease those affected by 'radio wave' abnormalities in humans."

"Oh, you mean like brain stimulation therapy?" Phineas asked. "Isn't that controversial?"

"Yes, yes, it is." The man quirked his brow. "But I believe it may be the best way to help your friend."

"Oh, Ferb's not my friend. He's my brother!"

"Ah, excuse me. Now, may I use my device. I promise no harm will come to your brother."

"Well, okay, if you say so." Phineas stepped aside and let the man hold the device up to Ferb before pressing a button. Ferb blinked a few times before the man placed the device in his pocket. "How you feelin', Ferb?"

Ferb gave a thumbs up.

"Hey, it looks like it worked! Thank you, Mr... Huh? Where'd he go?"

--------------------------------------------------

"Papa! You're home~!" Anya cheered, running to the door.

"You're back already?" Yor asked. "I thought you'd be gone a lot longer, considering how far you were traveling."

"I was offered a trip on a much fast return flight than the one prior." Reaching into his doctor's bag, he pulled free a plush doll in the shape of a strange creature with a duck bill, a beaver tail and feet, and a strange greenish-blur fur color. "Anya, I found this on the way home. I remember you being curious about platypus before leaving, so I thought you'd enjoy this."

"Thank you, Papa!"

"Oh, that is so cute~! What are you going to name him?"

Anya thought for a moment, then noticed a certain look in his eyes. It was the same look he held when he was in thought of something. Focusing on him, she heard a name said over and over again.

"Percy the Plassypess?" Anya smiled, tossing her plush in the air. "Yeah! Agent Percy the Plassypess~!"

[spaceyaceface]

Dread

Chapter One of Safety

Ominis Gaunt x f!Ravenclaw!Reader (reader is not MC)

Word Count: 2.8k

Content Warnings: Pureblood Society/Culture

Summary: Y/N L/N had always despised Ominis Gaunt. He was everything she hated about her life. As the only daughter to a wealthy pure-blood family, she knew it was inevitable that she would someday find herself in an arranged marriage.

But why did it have to be him?

Also available on AO3

Ominis’s stomach filled with dread the moment the letter dropped into his lap. The owl that had delivered it landed beside him, pecking at his hand until Ominis begrudgingly gave him a small treat. Grasping the letter, he turned it over in his hand. There were very few options as to who would write him a letter—one was Sebastian, but his oldest friend sat right beside him on the bench they shared in the Great Hall, loading his plate with food for breakfast. He supposed it could be Sebastian’s sister, Anne, who was ill in Feldcroft—he would have welcomed a note from her, even if it had been but a few short weeks since he had seen her. But no. One brush over the fine parchment and extravagant wax seal confirmed his awful suspicion—it was from his parents. 

For most students, receiving a letter from their parents this early on in the school year would likely mean they forgot something at home, and to expect a parcel. Or perhaps it would be the kind worried words of a mother, checking in to see how their dear child was adapting. Ominis knew better than to expect anything like that. His parents rarely wrote him, and when they did, it was never good news. It was usually chastising words on his school work or expressions of disappointment at his choice of company. Occasionally, he got the pleasure of being compared to one of his siblings, or even taunts reminding him of his place in the family pecking order. Or it could be…

He swallowed thickly. Ominis had come of age last February. For some most wizards, this would have been an age of new independence—perhaps an opportunity of escape for those in difficult situations. For Ominis, so securely held in the clutches of his parents as he tried to finish his education, it meant nothing but new ways to have his life controlled. He had hoped there was a chance he would escape his brothers’ fate, given his ailment. But as he opened the letter and traced his fingers over the transfigured words, his heart dropped. 

There was no escape for him after all. 

Sebastian, finally done selecting his morning meal, finally noticed his silence. He interrupted his breakfast to turn toward his friend in concern. “You’ve gone quiet,” he said. “Is it from your parents?” 

Ominis couldn’t find the words to explain to him the situation. Instead, he waved his wand over the parchment, transforming the marks into words his friend could read and handed it to him. There was quiet for a moment as Sebastian took in the contents of the letter.

“Betrothed?” Sebastian said finally. Ominis only nodded. He felt numb. The food on his plate was cold now. It didn’t matter. He had no appetite anyway. 

Sebastian let out a disbelieving scoff. “How could they… as if they have any right to… Look, it says they’re keeping it private for the time being. We’ll figure something out.” 

Ominis sighed, voice shaking. “We can… try. But I don’t think I have a chance. Even the siblings of mine that they’ve liked ended up in arranged marriages. I should be grateful it’s not to one of my cousins.” He leaned forward on the table, resting his face in his hands. His head was spinning. He felt like he might be sick. 

Sebastian placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “It’s going to be fine, Ominis.” The words fell flat, a clear lie—and Sebastian was normally pretty good at lying. His friend looked back down at the parchment in his hand. “Y/N L/N… that’s that girl our year in Ravenclaw, isn’t it?” 

It was. He had never come into contact with her much—the few times they’d been grouped together in class she’d limited their conversation, but was never rude or aggressive. However, he knew that she came from a family quite like his—blood purists, with wealth and a name that intimidated many in the wizarding world. From what he knew of her, it seemed to Ominis that Y/N deliberately tried to separate herself from her family. She was often the gossip at events he’d been forced to attend—her name often accompanied phrases like “what a shame” and “quite the disappointment”. She didn’t attempt to mask her distaste for the wizarding world’s “high society.”  He couldn’t blame her if that was why she had always seemed to avoid him. He felt a pang of sympathy for the girl—she’d been roped into the mess that was his family. No one deserved that. 

Sebastian tore him out of his thoughts as he continued. “Do you think she’s heard the news yet? I can’t imagine she’ll be pleased, either.” 

Ominis opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the bang of the Great Hall doors being thrust open. Footsteps strode towards him, and he knew exactly who it must have been even before she screamed his name. 

“GAUNT!” she yelled, fury tainting her tone. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you!” 

The chattering voices in the Great Hall hushed, and Ominis knew every head was turned toward them. He took a moment, trying to gather his composure for a conversation he wanted desperately to run from. Finally, he sighed, standing to face her. When he spoke, he had to focus on making sure his voice came out controlled and even. “Fair enough. But perhaps we could not make a spectacle of it.” 

He heard her grumble to herself before a hand wrapped around his wrist, tugging him toward the doors. 

“I can walk myself,” he muttered, trying to pull away from her grasp. 

She ignored him, throwing open a door to what he assumed was an empty classroom before slamming it shut behind them. She finally let go and Ominis rubbed his wrist as he shot a glare in her direction. God, the nerve of her. 

“What is the meaning of this?” she said through clenched teeth. He heard the slight flutter of parchment and assumed she was brandishing a letter in front of him. The dread he felt mingled uncomfortably with irritation in his stomach. 

“If you knew a thing about me, you’d know I’d be unable to see what this is,” he said coldly. 

“If you think I’m going to go along with any of this, you’re sorely mistaken,” she continued, ignoring him. “How dare you—“

The irritation took a swift turn, turning into anger searing red hot inside him. She had every right to be upset about the situation—as did he—but she had no right to blame it all on him. “Hold on a moment, dearest,” he said, the last word dripping in mockery. She gasped. 

“ Don’t you DARE call me that!” she seethed, voice rising. 

There was a slight satisfaction in hearing her furious tone. He should really have been trying to deescalate the situation, but if she felt like letting out her frustrations on him, he felt no qualms about returning the favor. “I’ll call you whatever I’d bloody like, because in case you’ve forgotten, it seems you're to be my wife, ” he spat. “You can make whatever assumptions about me you want, but know that I had no say in this blasted arrangement . I’m just as much a victim as you are.” 

He swore he could hear both of their hearts pounding as the waves of fury rolled off of them. He knew none of this was her fault, but he couldn’t help but hate her in that moment—from her deep, shaking breaths to the slight scent of vanilla she carried with her. 

“I refuse to ever be wed to you,” she growled. If he wasn’t in such a horrid state himself, he’d likely find himself afraid of her. 

“Then that, at least, we can agree upon,” he said. 

She stormed out of the room, leaving Ominis to stew in the tension she’d left in her wake.  

It took him a good while to calm down. He drew in long, deep breaths, leaning his head against the wall behind him. How dare she place the blame on him? Why would he have ever chosen this, did she think he was eager to have some girl promised to him with nothing to care about but her blood status? It was infuriating. He had hardly ever had control of his life. For years he had dared to dream that someday, he would escape the life his parents pushed so fervently onto him, become something worthwhile; but it seemed he never would. He was doomed to follow in the footsteps of his older siblings—married off without a second thought. None of them ever seemed to question that path. He despised them for it. How could they have ever been happy? Did they not long for something more? 

He was stirred from his bitter thoughts by the door opening. He was about to tell her she had better be there to apologize, but a different voice interrupted him. 

“I take it it went well,” Sebastian said. 

Ominis scoffed. “She was furious. I wish I could be sympathetic and say I don’t blame her, but—”

“But you’re in just as bad a position as she is,” Sebastian finished. He sighed, coming over and leaning against the wall alongside his friend. “You should’ve seen her storm back in there. Could’ve mistaken her for a dragon.”

“I suppose she’s out there shouting about her poor fate with the terrible Gaunts,” Ominis said, frowning. That would be exactly what he needed—students going around saying how eager he was to take a wife to continue his horrible family traditions. He already had enough rumors about him. What was one more? 

“No, actually. I overheard her telling one of her friends that she was upset with you because her parents compared the two of you in a letter. Doesn’t seem like she’s eager to spread the news of her engagement.” That was a relief, at least. 

He sighed. “Well, let’s hope she keeps it that way. It’ll be a lot easier to try to find a solution if the whole school isn’t gossiping about it. It… would have been easier to work with her to figure it out, but…” He trailed off. He shouldn’t have let things get out of hand, but she…  

Sebastian clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Who needs her? Trust me, you’ll have the title of Hogwarts’ most eligible bachelor back in no time.” 

—------

Ominis Gaunt. Of all the prejudiced, evil, horrid, and twisted people, it had to be the worst of them. It had to be a bloody Gaunt. 

Just thinking the name made her taste iron as she walked through the corridors to her first class. She’d known this day was coming—it was bound to. As her parent’s only child, she was the only heir of their fortune, the one that had been passed down through generations upon generations of pure-blood families. As a daughter, she couldn’t carry on the family name—the ‘legacy’, as they liked to call it (and some lousy legacy it was, she could tell you that much). Of course they’d want to marry her off to someone of importance. 

But the Gaunts.

She’d always foolishly thought that they’d wait until she had finished school—maybe even settled into some sort of career. She saw now that that could never have been a possibility; it would have given her a taste of freedom. She would have taken it and ran—they knew her well enough to see that. There had been another silly idea she’d somehow convinced herself of—that she would have some sort of say in the man they promised her to. The choice would have been more of an illusion than anything worth while, but it would have been something to give her an ounce of control in her pathetic existence. She could have sorted her suitors from worst to awful to tolerable , and had her pick of them. But no. Even that was stolen away from her. She was to marry Ominis bloody Gaunt.

Because of her family's status, she had grown up hearing plenty about the Gaunts, mostly by way of praise , as disgusting as it was. They held a special place of high importance as descendants of Salazar Slytherin, or as Y/N liked to call him, the royal prick himself. She knew all too well of their hobbies torturing Muggles. She’d heard about them marrying cousins and the like to keep their blood pure—a practice done only by the most desperate and prejudiced families. She knew all about how violent and vile each and every one of them was. When she had first come to Hogwarts and discovered the Gaunt boy in her year, she resolved to have nothing to do with him. Her parents always pestered her to befriend him, solely for the good it would do to increase their standing with his family. Despite the constant comparisons her parents made of them, she had managed to be civil with the boy throughout the years. If she was too rude or nasty toward him, he would surely rat her out to his parents—who would in turn spread the information to hers. Nothing good would have ever come from that. 

In hindsight, she really should have seen it all coming. She supposed that the only thing that prevented her from considering Gaunt as a potential match was his blindness—not that she looked down on him for that fact, of course. She simply grew up in the same world he did, full of harsh judgements and expected perfection. Every child was raised in a way that was supposed to model their parents. Anything different or against the established norm was frowned upon. As unfair as it was, his blindness likely led other pureblood families to look down on him, even with his status as a Gaunt. With her own status being a bit precarious as a Ravenclaw who spoke out against her family, she figured her own reputation had been tainted—maybe that was why they had ended up paired together. 

As Y/N plopped down in her seat for Charms, she felt her friend’s eyes on her. Constance Dagworth was one of her dorm mates, a natural friend for her to have made. They’d hit it off during their first year, gushing about their favorite books and stories. As a Muggleborn, Constance had a lot to share with her friend about the Muggle world—it all fascinated Y/N. She found a particular love for Muggle novels and poetry, which Constance was always willing to provide her. Her parents disapproved not only of her interests, but of her friendship. All the more reason to stay loyal to the first friend she had made. 

“Blimey, you still haven’t calmed down?” Constance asked, frowning at her friend. 

Y/N sighed. She hadn’t told Constance about the horrid arrangement she’d been roped into. Talking to her about it would make it all so much more real… she didn’t think she was ready for that yet. Instead, she had blamed her anger at Gaunt by telling her that her parents had compared the pair of them in their latest letter. It was a convincing lie, as it had happened on many occasions before. Her parents had pestered her throughout the years that she ought to be more like Ominis, who, in their eyes, was an excellent little heir worthy of his pureblood status, much like the rest of his siblings. It was just another reason she hated the blond. 

“I’m just sick of it,” Y/N said to her friend. “One can only take so much.” 

Constance hummed. “Fair enough. I’d’ve liked to see what exactly they said, though—really must of gotten on your nerves with how quick you were to let it go up in flames.” 

Y/N smiled a bit at that. As soon as she had returned to the Great Hall, she had lit the note on fire—she was determined not to let anyone else know about her situation, and it had been oh so satisfying to turn the blasted letter into a pile of ash. It allowed her to pretend, just a little bit, that it wasn’t real. With no physical proof, there was nothing to remind her of her problems. 

But then Ominis Gaunt and Sebastian Sallow walked into class—her anger flared once again. 

His pretentious tone echoed in her head—he dared to call himself a victim in this situation. Likely just wanted to complain that he’d gotten stuck with her and not some loyal little Slytherin brat who’d fall over herself to take her place. 

She glared at him as he sat, though he would be none the wiser. She resented his smooth blond hair, his unwrinkled uniform, his chillingly blue eyes. Every part of him reeked of posh perfection—every part of him reminded her of all she’d been trying to escape from. 

She swore to herself, right then and there, she would do whatever it took to be sure she never married Ominis Gaunt.

-

Chapter Two

[itstheoneshot]

Kinktober Day 4

Impact Play: Taeyong

!sub Taeyong

Taeyong was naughty and always chasing a punishment. He liked it, liked being bent over and spanked across the ass with any object you wanted. Today was no different, he had been bugging you for what felt like hours, wanting your attention while you worked, ignoring your constant replies of I get off at five, bubu, be patient and continuing to ask.

“Hey, honey,” You hum softly, interrupting him mid-game while he sits in front of his computer, you massage his shoulders gently, “I’ve finished work.”

He didn’t even try to finish the game, hitting the power button and taking off his headset and spinning around in his chair to face you. His eyes light up as he meets your gaze, god he is just too cute it makes you want to scream. He reaches out for you and you comfortably settle in his lap, straddling him with your legs dangling off the sides of the chair.

“I missed you,” He whines, “Today was so boring.”

He makes you laugh, he is such a clingy baby. It is hard to even pretend to be mad at him, but he loves it when you do, he loves when he can play into his submissive nature.

“Come then,” You urge him, shuffling back so that you can stand up, “How about we make it interesting?”

His eyes light up again, sparkling like the stars in the sky. He happily takes your hands, following you out of the study and down the hall to your bedroom. Taeyong practically runs to the bed, flopping down onto the mattress and stretching his arms out overhead. You don’t join him straight away, instead turning to walk over to your chest of drawers. You look at him over your shoulder, wanting to take him just like that, but knowing that you promised him this morning for a much more enjoyable time.

He saw the parcel that was delivered yesterday. A pretty pink paddle, with a heart cutout in the centre. Taeyong got half-hard just from looking at it, but you were tired, and with an early morning meeting that you had to be up for today, you just wanted to go to sleep. 

You open the box and carefully pull out the new toy, and by the time you make it back to the bed, Taeyong is fully in the mood, shuffling back a little as if he wanted to escape you. He doesn’t make it far before you wrap your hand around his ankle to stop him, and you motion with the hand holding the paddle to come back closer to you. He pouts at you, but reluctantly moves forward, joining you at the edge of the mattress.

“Should we start by undressing, bubu?” You ask him, gently reaching for his shirt, giggling as he raises his arms obediently, “Good boy, thank you.”

Taeyong beams at the praise, momentarily forgetting about the toy placed down beside you, happily following your directions as you instruct him to undress completely, underwear and all. Leaving him fully naked and you still clothed, he feels so exposed, blushing and trying to cover himself up while you stare at him, drinking in the way that he looks under the dimmed bedroom lights. 

“Did you touch yourself today?” You ask him, noting that he is still soft, which is out of character, usually hard before he even has all of his clothes off.

“No,” He shakes his head, though he averts his gaze, “I didn’t.”

“I don’t know if I believe you,” You respond, reaching over to lift his chin up, “Tell me again.”

Taeyong tries to look away, eyes unfocused, “I swear I didn’t.”

“I’m going to get the truth out of you,” You reply, taking him by the wrists, “Bend over for me, my love.”

He begrudgingly does as he is told, moving to lay across your lap, sticking his ass up for you, soon forgetting to play hard to get. You take the paddle in one hand, and rub gently over his ass with the other for a moment before bringing the paddle down with a sickening crack!

Taeyong yelps, jolting forward as you soothe the red mark left behind, only to spank him again a moment later, revelling in the feeling of his cock twitching against your thigh. You are getting somewhere, with each strike he begins to harden a little more. Three, four, five, Taeyong is in tears but with no complaints, instead asking for more, more, more please until you stop, a hand slipping past his hips to touch his cock, finally fully hard, leaking precum from the tip.

“I’m going to ask again,” You repeat yourself, wrapping your hand around his shaft but not moving, “Did you touch yourself today?”

Taeyong tries desperately to move, though your grip tightens as a warning so he stops, “I did, I’m sorry… I couldn’t wait.”

“Thank you for telling the truth, bubu,” You murmur, “And thank you for taking your punishment so well.”

You urge Taeyong to move now, sitting on the mattress with his legs spread wide, his cock still fully hard when you let go, he glances down at it and then back at you with desperation in his eyes.

“Can you help me please?” He asks in pout, “I’ve been good!”

You stand up from the bed to undress, keeping your eyes trained on Taeyong as he wraps his hand around his shaft, stroking gently to keep himself fully hard before you rejoin him, moving to kneel between his legs.

“I can help you,” You nod, “But I expect you to help me too.”

-

kinktober masterlist

[crissiebaby]

Million Diaper Baby: Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, humiliation, domination, sissification, chastity, masturbation/diaper sex, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

Commissioned By: Gun1242

-------------------------------------------------------------

In 2025, an up-and-coming Middleweight boxer named Blake “The Bullet” Rodgers stepped into the ring for his chance at a title belt. The event that occurred three rounds into his boxing match would forever change the sport as The Bullet delivered a nasty blow to his opponent’s lower gut, triggering a messy accident in the heart of Madison Square Garden. With his rival unable to continue, the fight concluded in an unprecedented TKO victory for The Bullet, and his legendary punch from that day became known as The Hollow Point.

Many of Blake’s fellow boxers would soon strive to emulate his signature move to achieve quick TKOs, and the sport of boxing became inundated with muddy undies before the year was out. The prospect of banning hits to the lower midsection was a bridge too far for the vast majority of athletes and spectators, leaving the International Boxing Federation to make the only plausible decision they could. Henceforth, diapers became a uniform requirement for boxers at all levels…

-------------------------------------------------------------

*DING! DING!*

Thumping his gloves together fiercely, it was safe to say Matthew Armstrong was having an off day. Sweat dripped from the ends of his spiky hair as he danced his way toward the center of the ring for the eighth round of his sparring match. His opponent was someone he had bested on numerous occasions, emphasizing to anyone watching that he was not performing at 100 percent mentally. Adding to his frustration, the feisty Welterweight knew the reason for his poor performance was entirely petty. This pushed him to become more reckless as he proceeded to take his anger out on his hapless competitor with a series of wild punches.

“It’s here!”

Suddenly, a female voice echoed from across the gym, distracting Matthew at the worst possible moment. His opponent’s glove made contact with the side of his jaw, resulting in an unintentional sucker punch that put the frazzled fighter on his obnoxiously crinkly ass. It wasn’t even a particularly hard hit, making the fact that it unbalanced him even more aggravating. Pushing himself off the canvas floor, he didn’t even wait for the bell to ring as he exited the ring in a huff.

“G-Good match,” called out Matthew’s opponent, his voice brimming with clumsy anxiety.

Matthew paid no mind to his sparring partner as he beelined to the other side of the boxing gym without a word of comradery. Instead, his focus was locked on a group of fellow boxers who were standing in a semi-circle around a large cardboard box. Dawning a sour expression, he folded his arms over his chest defensively and joined the crowd of onlookers.

“Eeee! I’m so excited! It feels like Christmas!” said the girl tearing into the well-sealed box with a pair of safety scissors. Dreaming of this moment since she was old enough to walk, Lightweight brawler, Amy Stone, tore open the parcel and proudly unveiled her big sponsor to her fellow competitors, “Heh! I think I’m gonna be covered on boxing diapers for the foreseeable future.” Her small gathering clapped and chuckled lightheartedly as she held up a package of plain white diapers with a giant CrissBaby Diaper Company logo boldly located on the rear of the padding. Years of intensive training and dedication had finally been worth it, and now, she was ready to leave her mark on the sport. She hugged the diaper pack to her chest, fighting back tears of joy.

*Scoff!*

Amy’s smile briefly faltered as Matthew’s breathy dejection snagged her ear. Her gaze narrowed playfully as she turned to see him sulking as he sauntered away from the group.

“Stupid CrissBaby,” muttered Matthew, failing to mask his seething jealousy. There was little doubt pertaining to who the best boxer in the gym unequivocally was. At only 26, his professional record stood at an awe-inspiring 19-0-2, and he’d bested damn near every local guy in his weight class multiple times over. And yet, despite his obvious prowess, he had yet to accrue any sponsorships to help take him to the next level, leaving him to scrounge for any cheap fight he could get his gloves on. He didn’t want to be bitter, especially toward Amy of all people, but he couldn’t deny that he was feeling raw about the whole situation.

*POW!*

Receiving a light punch to the shoulder from behind, Matthew narrowly avoided a trip to the ground as he stumbled forward. “Who the fu-” he shouted, ready to lay the smack down on whoever had the gall to hit him when his back was turned. His rage faltered as he turned around to see Amy smirking at him. He exhaled forcefully through his nose like a bull attempting to mind its manners in a china shop, “Oh…it’s just you.”

“Hehe! You looked so mad, bro. I must’ve really pissed you off for you to go straight to your corkscrew,” teased Amy, who was able to tell what punch Matthew was going throw based on his stance alone. After two decades of fighting alongside each other, she could read Matthew like a book and knew precisely how to poke at his most hair-triggered buttons. Unfortunately, while Matthew had always been highly competitive, envy was one of his rarer emotions, leading to a gross miscalculation as she carried on with her heedless taunts, “Oh, c’mon, Matti. Lighten up, will ya! Just because we have to wear diapers doesn’t mean you gotta act like a party pooper.” She reached forward to place a hand on Matthew’s shoulder, only for him to brush her away.

A small line of pink formed along the bridge of Matthew’s nose. “I told you never to call me that here,” he said in a hushed volume, referring to Amy’s incessant need to feminize his name at all times. He allowed her to get away with it when they were alone but that was only because of the massive crush he had on her. His eyes shifted to the handful of onlookers who had previously been present for Amy’s unboxing, praying that none of them overheard his embarrassing nickname, “And lay off the diaper jokes, will ya? Not all of us are so privileged to have CrissBaby pay for ours.”

Matthew’s pointed comment struck a nerve within Amy, who wasn’t looking to have her success ridiculed over nothing more than a harmless goof in her eyes. “Oh, is that what this is about? I thought you were slinking away cuz you just got put on your ass by a rookie. Not sure that’s the kind of performance CrissBaby would be interested in,” she shot back vengefully, displaying her own brand of brash egoism. Several more fighters bunched in around the bickering besties, amused by the verbal onslaught that was rapidly ramping up.

“19 wins and zero losses, bitch. Records speak for themselves. Tell me, what was yours again? 13-3? 4? You’ll have to forgive me for forgetting since I only have to keep track of one number,” said Matthew, earning a chorus of “oohs” from the male spectators.

“Okay, asshole, for the record, it’s 14 and 2,” clapped back Amy, who wasn’t about to let her win-loss count be downplayed, “And don’t act like your record isn’t inflated with amateurs and journeymen. I take my losses on the chin cuz those were hard fucking fights. I bet your pansy ass is gonna ball like a baby the day you get laid out.”

With no regard for his short-tempered retort from moments prior, Matthew was high on the belief that he had Amy right where he wanted her if she was already cussing. He rolled his eyes, knowing of how much that imprudent gesture ground her gears. “Too bad you’re never gonna find out. Sorry, Ames, but I don’t plan on losing any time soon,” he said, utilizing the three inches of height he had over Amy to look down on her.

“Wanna put those words to the test?” asked Amy, her tone deadly serious as she stepped forward and got up in Matthew’s face. In the back of her mind, she knew this was possibly one of the dumbest things she could do. Even if she were to completely erase the annoying gender divide, she easily weighed 20 pounds less than Matthew, giving him a significant upper hand from a sheer power standpoint. That being said, Matthew had talked far too much shit to not put his money where his mouth is. If anyone was going to knock him down a peg, it was going to be her.

Caught off guard by Amy’s impromptu challenge, Matthew found himself atop a very awkward hot seat. He had sparred with Amy countless times when they were growing up but he hadn’t faced off against his childhood friend since middle school. Cornered by his arrogance, he knew this was a lose-lose situation. “Sorry, I don’t fight girls,” he replied, his cheering section quickly turning on him as the “oohs” swapped to “awws” within seconds of his answer, “Shut the fuck up! I don’t see you pussies going toe-to-toe with any of the girls here.”

“Yeah, that’s because they’re smart enough not to run their mouths around me. Maybe take a page from their book if you’re gonna chicken out,” heckled Amy, twisting the knife for presumably the final time given Matthew’s cowardly rebuttal.

However, Amy never could’ve predicted the kind of fire her needling statement would spark behind Matthew’s eyes. Balling his fists, his knuckles crackled like a fuse being ignited. He still had no intention of fighting her but he wasn’t about to announce that to the whole gym after such blatant indignation. Letting his male fragility take the wheel, he knew exactly what to say to get Amy to balk. “Fine but if I win, you have to go on a date with me,” he said, a wicked grin forming on his mug, “And you have to dress up nice, too. No sweatpants allowed.” The “oohs” returned in his favor.

Amy’s smug visage shattered nigh instantaneously as Matthew’s shocking stipulation sank in. She wished she could say this was a first but Matthew had been coming onto her since the two of them were old enough to tell the difference between guys and girls. Despite being keenly aware of Matthew’s gushy feelings, she never reciprocated. She’d been around enough macho airheads to know that type of guy wasn’t her type. And yet, Matthew still harbored a deep affection for her, forcing her to constantly find new ways to let him down easily for the sanctity of their friendship. This was clearly a face-saving move to get her to back down, and she had to admit it was surprisingly effective. Had it been any other muscle-clad douchebag pulling a stunt like this, she would’ve decked him right then and there, but this was Matthew she was dealing with. If he wanted to up the ante to this extent, she was determined to make him regret it, “Fine, but if I win, you have to do whatever I say for an entire week. No ifs, ands, or buts. No backing out.” She extended her hand toward Matthew whilst maintaining a withering glare and refusing to so much as blink. “So, Matti, do we have a deal?”

Glancing at the now gym-wide audience encircling Amy and him, Matt knew any chance of this argument ending civilly was long gone. Their brawl seemed almost inevitable at this point. His fingers curled around Amy’s hand viciously, showcasing his superior grip strength. “You’re on,” he said starkly, oblivious to the blushy fate that lay ahead of him.

Matching the intensity of her opponent’s grip, Amy squared up with Matthew. Permitting her devious mind to wander as she looked him up and down, she could already feel the horns growing out of her head. She would certainly make him pay in more ways than one if she wound up stuck on a crappy date with him. But should she happen to pull off an upset, he was going to be in for a world of humiliation unlike anything he’s ever experienced.

TO BE CONTINUED…

NEXT »

-------------------------------------------------------------

SubscribeStar: subscribestar.adult/crissiebaby pixivFANBOX: crissiebaby.fanbox.cc All CB Links: linktr.ee/crissiebaby

Edited by AllySmolShork

Special Thanks to Our CrissBaby Diaper Company Investors: BlushyBen DD JFN Nike PrincessKittenLizzi SissyDina Strawberry Sweetsamantharebecca & One Anonymous Investor

[americanbrffan]

On September 8, 2022, the world lost a beacon of light. And while sad for our loss, her earlier words were a reminder of those she was reuniting with, and who could be sad at that.

On this first anniversary, I'll be reflecting on her legacy. I'm pasting the text of her 2020 speech because so many facets of it are just as important today. And how amazing is it that she mentions the NHS rainbows in her speech, when the universe marked her own passing with a double rainbow, which appeared before any public announcement had been made. [I still believe the second rainbow was Philip welcoming her.] 💕 💕

“I am speaking to you at what I know is an increasingly challenging time. A time of disruption in the life of our country: a disruption that has brought grief to some, financial difficulties to many, and enormous changes to the daily lives of us all.

“I want to thank everyone on the NHS (National Health Service) front line, as well as care workers and those carrying out essential roles, who selflessly continue their day-to-day duties outside the home in support of us all. I am sure the nation will join me in assuring you that what you do is appreciated and every hour of your hard work brings us closer to a return to more normal times.

“I also want to thank those of you who are staying at home, thereby helping to protect the vulnerable and sparing many families the pain already felt by those who have lost loved ones. Together we are tackling this disease, and I want to reassure you that if we remain united and resolute, then we will overcome it.

“I hope in the years to come everyone will be able to take pride in how they responded to this challenge. And those who come after us will say the Britons of this generation were as strong as any. That the attributes of self-discipline, of quiet good-humoured resolve and of fellow-feeling still characterise this country. The pride in who we are is not a part of our past, it defines our present and our future.

“The moments when the United Kingdom has come together to applaud its care and essential workers will be remembered as an expression of our national spirit; and its symbol will be the rainbows drawn by children.

“Across the Commonwealth and around the world, we have seen heart-warming stories of people coming together to help others, be it through delivering food parcels and medicines, checking on neighbours, or converting businesses to help the relief effort.

“And though self-isolating may at times be hard, many people of all faiths, and of none, are discovering that it presents an opportunity to slow down, pause and reflect, in prayer or meditation.

“It reminds me of the very first broadcast I made, in 1940, helped by my sister. We, as children, spoke from here at Windsor to children who had been evacuated from their homes and sent away for their own safety. Today, once again, many will feel a painful sense of separation from their loved ones. But now, as then, we know, deep down, that it is the right thing to do. While we have faced challenges before, this one is different. This time we join with all nations across the globe in a common endeavour, using the great advances of science and our instinctive compassion to heal. We will succeed - and that success will belong to every one of us.

“We should take comfort that while we may have more still to endure, better days will return: we will be with our friends again; we will be with our families again; we will meet again.

“But for now, I send my thanks and warmest good wishes to you all.”

- Queen Elizabeth, April 5, 2020

[smilingformoney]

Happy 63rd Birthday to our favourite dungeon bat!

To celebrate, I’ve written a lil something about Snape’s 63rd birthday, which he definitely spent alone and not surrounded by love. Honest.

Even after so many years, Severus wasn’t sure he would ever get used to this.

The war had been over for a long time now. In fact, later that year would mark the 25th anniversary of the final battle against the Dark Lord, when he had been defeated at last and the wizarding world had begun to know some semblance of peace.

Despite Severus’ protestations, Harry Potter had made it his mission to let the world know what his grumpy old Potions teacher had done for the world. He had even gone so far as to name his second son after him. And ever since, the two men who had once been enemies now had something of a friendship. Severus had attended Potter’s wedding to Ginny Weasley, and occasionally allowed the odd Christmas visit.

After recovering from the near-fatal snake bite he had been inflicted during the battle, Severus had moved into a small house of his own, isolated from the world and with plenty of garden space, just how he liked it. He could grow his ingredients, brew his potions and write his books in peace.

It had been Potter who had suggested Severus publish his improved potion recipes, and Severus soon discovered he enjoyed writing books; it was a lot easier to teach when he couldn’t be interrupted. He could simply write the information, and dunderhead students could do with it as they wished without bothering him.

And so, despite his desire to stay hidden from the world, Severus had become something of a well-known writer, and somehow, even over ten years since his last publication, he still received well wishes on his birthday from fans of his work.

Most of the letters he awarded a cursory glance before being tossed aside. He was in the process of sifting through the letters when a knock came at the door. With a great sigh, Severus lifted himself from his armchair and made his way to the door as slowly as he could, hoping that if he took his time, the visitor would go away.

No such luck. On his doorstep was none other than Potter himself.

Severus sighed. “Yes?”

“Morning, Professor. Happy birthday.”

Over 25 years, and Potter still insisted on calling him Professor. To make up, he claimed, for all the years he spent disrespectfully dismissing his title.

“It was until you arrived. What do you want?”

Potter smiled, apparently blissfully unaware of Severus’ attitude.

“I just wanted to give you your birthday present.” Potter held up a neatly wrapped parcel, which his wife had almost certainly wrapped for him - Potter’s wrapping skills were about as proficient as that of potion-making.

Severus eyed the package suspiciously. Potter always sent his presents by owl, or delivered them along with a Christmas present in December.

“It won’t explode, I promise. Kept it away from George especially.”

With a reluctant sigh, Severus took the present. “Thank you, I suppose,” he grumbled. “Am I expected to invite you in?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Well, I don’t.”

Potter chuckled. “Well, alright then. Happy birthday, Professor.”

He turned and left to apparate away, leaving Severus in peace with a ridiculous box. He shut the door and returned to his well-worn armchair. He groaned when he saw the pile of letters still waiting to be opened.

Still, he supposed he should open Potter’s present. As he unwrapped the layer of paper, he began to realise that the box was cold from more than just the January air - it seemed to be under the effects of a cooling spell.

“What have you done, Potter?” Severus muttered as he waved his wand to open the box and lift out the contents. Frozen in suspended animation to prevent damage, in addition to the cooling spell to prevent melting, was a blancmange.

Severus stared at the dessert for a few moments, taken aback. He realised then that a note was floating alongside it, which read:

Dear Professor Snape,

A little birdie told me this was your favourite. Even after all these years, there’s always more to learn about you.

Stop by for tea soon, won’t you?

- Harry, Ginny, James, Albus and Lily

No, actually, he wasn’t getting emotional. He was irritated, and anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar attempting to sully the name of Severus Snape. He was a grumpy, irritable recluse. He wasn’t friends with Harry Potter, and he certainly wasn’t constantly taken aback by the kindness shown to him by a man who had every right to hate him.

Severus Snape spent his birthdays alone, just as he liked it, and on pain of death he would never swear otherwise.

…Oh, alright.

But don’t tell anyone.

[nullcanary]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Thank you so much for the tag @aliasknives. I truly appreciate it! Tagging anyone who would like to share!

Here's a little Durgetash snippet I've been working on for when Mormo finally returns to Baldur's Gate. I have a soft spot for when characters write and receive letters, so I had Mormo receive a letter from a certain someone who is eager for realliance and perhaps admitting how poorly he took her disappearance.

Upon entering her tent, Mormo finds an envelope laid out on her pillow. She wonders when this had slipped into her space without notice. Looking at it, she knows in her blood, in her heart, that this is meant only for her. A secret dressed in ink. Tentatively reaching for it, she notes the dark green wax seal. Picking it up, she turns it over in her hands. There is no name, no indication of the recipient scrawled onto the parcel. It must have been delivered by hand with clear instruction, which meant someone had their eyes on her.  Could this be some trap? Should she have the others inspect the note for signs of magic or otherwise ill-intent? While considering her next course of action, she runs her fingers over the wax seal, and notices the stamped symbol is that of a clenched fist. A warmth washes over her, like something familiar, something pleasant.  Caution dissipates, pushed off by the growing curiosity. Flicking out a blade from her belt, she breaks the seal. A sheet of valuable, high-stock parchment is folded within. Free from the envelope, the page carries the earthy scent of rosewood with a faint hint of gunpowder. She breathes the scent in and tries to remember.  What in the world is this sense of elation? This sense of routine? This… this… Neither the right word nor memory comes to mind, so Mormo unfolds the parchment in search of it. The sight of the lettering certainly stirs something stronger within her, the sharp and precise strokes of ink make her feel homesick.  Mormo,  Oh, how I had hoped to find you. I prayed that even if I could not find you in good health, could not find you of sound mind, that I would at least be able to see and know the turned earth of your barrow.  My hand stayed by that of my patron, I could not scour the shores myself. I paced the cold halls of the fortress in place of the coastline. Every scout sent in my stead returned with empty hands, empty words. I wrought the ire of Bane on each one for their failure. No body, no charm, no mark upon scorched earth. I could not sit with the idea that you had simply ceased to exist, that there was no scrap left to this plane. I refused to give up, be it hope or failure to accept a bitter truth.  But bitter I have been. For the lack of it all. The lack of knowledge. The lack of control over myself. The lack of you here by my side like we planned. And we had planned for so long. Looked for every possible angle that things could go wrong. Never could I have anticipated your disappearance though.  Of course we knew death was always a risk, but I figured you would scourge the spot where anyone dare try. And seeing you do so many times, some part of me may have considered you invincible… This was an instance where I did not welcome you to prove me wrong.  I carried on in the stead of all our plans, the weight of your loss a strain to my strength, to the patience for your blood-addled kin and the crypt-minded fool.  Imagine the breath stolen in the moments I first saw you again through the scrying eye. Imagine the torrent of questions, the swell of emotions: disbelief, rage, sorrow. But above all: hope. If you had never slipped into the shadows, we could have already claimed the sun, yet there is still time to reforge that which had never broken for me.  I beg no one, but I implore your return. To you alone, I lay no hollow word. Whatever form now shapes you shall change nothing between us.  If it is truly you, come seek me at Wyrm's Rock Fortress.  Do not leave me waiting.  -G

[roguekhajiit]

Something that I simultaneously love and hate the most about being a rural mail carrier is that you're always alone.

This morning, I received a call from a customer who said he never received a package I had delivered yesterday. I checked the shelves, looked up his tracking number, and saw that the package was scanned at the time I was at his stop. I then told him I would look for his package today.

Now, 90% of my route is comprised of CBU (cluster box unit) banks. Was it possible I accidentally misread the address on his package for a similar one in a dyslexic moment? Yes. I never rule out that possibility. But I know I have dyslexia. It's something I've dealt with since I was a grade schooler, and it's why I carefully read each address.

Maybe a minute after I arrive at his stop, and halfway through the CBUs, a large black pickup truck pulls up directly behind my vehicle. Being a rural mail carrier, I rarely, if ever, see my customers face to face. But my instincts tell me that this is the guy I spoke with on the phone early this morning.

Something to note here:

As a contracted rural mail carrier, I drive my own personal vehicle and don't wear a uniform. There is no way to tell from a distance that I'm a mail carrier, and there are no markings identifying my car as a mail vehicle. I look just like any of the other hundreds of cars on the highway.

This guy lives a mile and a half down the road from where his box is located. There is no other way to get to his house, no alternate routes out from his road. Yet, he pulled up right behind my vehicle from the highway. Almost as if he was driving around looking for me.

Having spent 7 years working retail, I immediately go into customer service mode and ask, "Hi, how may I help you?"

He stands a foot away from me and says, "I'm here to see about my package." Nothing wrong with that sentence itself, but there was just something sinister in his tone, and the way he held himself immediately made my skin crawl and put my nerves on edge.

I told him I wasn't done yet, and I hadn't gotten to his CBU yet. But he continues to stand there, unmoving, staring at me. He doesn't go back to his truck until a kind old lady pulls up in her little car. But he still refuses to get back in his truck. Instead, he pretends to be busy with something on his phone all while still watching my every move.

As I was working, I was checking every box and paying attention to those who lived on his street or had similar house numbers as his. None of them had checked their mail since before yesterday, and none of them had received any parcels.

After I finished with his CBU, I had to tell him. "Your package isn't here." But I get the feeling he already knew that. It was in the way he had spoken to me when he first got there.

"Well, what are you going to do about it then," he asks me, his arms crossed and staring down at my five foot, nothing AFAB self.

"Nothing at the moment," I tell him. "We can wait and see if one of your neighbors mistakenly received it and turns it in, or you can report it as missing." Now, I'm neuro-divergent, and my tone during this entire interaction has been flat, neutral, and matter-of-fact. It's my default tone when speaking.

But he starts getting agitated, "So, you're not gonna admit that you lost it?!"

No? Why would I? We don't know that it's lost, his neighbors haven't checked their mail, and at this point, I'm 75% sure he's lying so he can get a refund on whatever he purchased. The other 25% is he either lost it or another member of his household checked the mail before he did and just didn't tell him. But I don't speak those thoughts out loud.

He kept pressing for me to admit that I was the one who lost his package. He's following me as I walk around my vehicle and refusing to leave. All the while, the kind old lady is still in her car watching and listening to this all play out.

His behavior has long since crossed the line into harassment and I tell him this. "I have not!" He says, "I've been standing over here minding my own business. I just want to know what you plan to do about my package!"

So I tell him, "Nothing. You can call the postmaster. Now, go about your day."

He then calls me a fucking bitch, hops in his truck and slams the door, speeding off.

If it wasn't for the fact that that lady was there for all of it, I'm certain he would have tried to escalate things further.

[vimbry]

oh yeah I completely forgot about the weirder thing that happened with my delivery last night

get text that my parcel is arriving between 7pm and 10pm.

see a royal mail van park across the road at 7:50

it's my parcel!

postman walks towards door carrying a small package

probably not a 27 inch monitor but maybe I'm wrong

I did order a 3m hdmi cable too so? maybe it's that and it's a separate package? sometimes drivers do go back for a bigger box if you've got multiple items?

say hi and thanks and such, close door, inspect the parcel

it's not my parcel

postman has driven off

actual recipient only lives at the end of the road

it's a tracked 24 order which has probably now been marked as delivered, so I should give it to her. not my favourite thing to do but I can't just keep it overnight out of shyness

get a text

"your driver is about 4 minutes away"

get actual monitor this time. it's a completely different van for the store

walk over in rain, in dark, to redeliver the wrong parcel, fortunately not super far

spend 15 seconds trying to open gate at hinge instead of latch

ring bell cause sticker said to. lady in there arrives but doesn't open the door but totally politely asks to just leave it on the step there

neither of us want to be doing this rn lol

I say oh ok sure :) bye and thanks, for some reason

go home

[navxry]

DAY ONE : A STRANGE TOWN !

-> When Kirara arrived at Matsuzaki, the last thing she expected was the sight of the fog, the strange residents, and being chased for her life. (obligatory tag for @xianyoon, though I might make a small taglist for whoever wants to see my entries for EBG/Ruler of Love!) [ <- day 0 | main page | day 2 -> ]

Eldritch Gods are an… Oddity, as one may say.

Abominations, monstrosities, and horrors of the unknown: those are the traits that befits them. If you ever asked someone what they thought of them, they can only shudder in fear as they speak about the things that they can do. Their power is not one to be underestimated, after all.

If one chose to look at them when they were summoned, then it will mark the end of the world—for looking at the abyss marks the End of All Things.

For Kirara, however, she doesn’t care for those things. After all, the end of the world has yet to reach its climax, much less meet the signs of the world reaching its extinction. What she does care, though, was the packages she needed to deliver. She needed money to pay the rent, after all!

So when she was informed that there was an important package to deliver and it had to be done stat, she immediately took the job. After all, it was what she is good at, and she would be damned if she didn’t deliver it on time. Plus, there was a bonus to those that took it, so she was thriving on that regard.

And here she was, standing at the entrance of the ghost town: Matsuzaki. It used to be bustling in its earliest days, and many mentioned that it had been used for the sake of transporting goods. For Kirara, she’s heard that it was the one that dealt with transporting ores to the big cities for jewelry. Nowadays, though, it looked like it lost it’s former glory.

Kirara shuddered. Heading to Matsuzaki for the first time felt like she stepped in some unknown territory, and she didn’t knew if she can even continue walking down the road she’s in without dropping the parcels in her arms.

No, she can’t chicken out now. All she needed to do was deliver this and get out right after. Easy!

Still… It’s really eerie. It’s causing the hair on her skin to rise.

Shaking off her legs, she began to walk towards the road, observing the sights around her. There was one place she needed to look for, which was a local bookstore in the area.

Although many weren’t told of why the bookstore needed an urgent delivery, she wasn’t one to judge. All she needed to do was find it, drop it off, get the reviews from her and leave. It was the only thing she needed to do to get her additional paycheck, and if she’s lucky, she can even get some food on her way out of Matsuzaki.

However, as she traversed the road ahead, she couldn’t tell on where she was heading. Each turn she took, she was only met with long-winded halls, haunting her every step of the way. She tried to hug the wall with the side of her arm, sticking to one side, and even turning around to backtrack. Alas, all she got was nothing.

It feels like she was spinning and spinning around, and she was sure— no, certain— that something isn’t right.

That was, until she bumped into someone.

“Ah—! The medicine!”

“Oh no, the package—!”

The package she was meant to deliver slipped out of her arms, and she watched as the package full of medicine that the person she bumped to were dropped to the ground. She could hear some smash, making her grimace as she tried to scoop up those that were left unharmed.

“Oh my Gods, I— I’m so sorry,” Kirara apologized, trying to make sure to avoid the broken bottles. “I wasn’t looking at where I was going. Please, forgive me.”

“It’s alright,” the stranger answered, scooping up the rest. However, when she looked up, she noticed that their eyes were… Closed.

How strange. Do the locals have their eyes closed?

Noticing that Kirara was looking at them, they looked towards the delivery girl and smiled.

“Is there something on my face, miss?” they— no, he— asked. Kirara can tell this was an older man, his green hair swept as though the winds have it become a mess with what he’s been doing. His attire did leave much to be interpreted (with how he looked like he was going out in daylight when the fog is around), but she wasn’t going to say a word.

“N-No, not at all,” she replied with a laugh, waving her hands around before she handed the things she gathered to him. “I was just worried that you can’t see since you had your eyes closed.”

“Ah, that…”

The stranger laughed, raising his hand to rub behind his neck. Turning his head to the side, she caught a glimpse of his eyes opening.

Hers only widened with what she saw.

His eyes…!

Instinctively, she looked away, but she swore that the guy she spoke to noticed her sudden shift of behavior. Grabbing the package, she knew she had to cut the conversation short and leave, lest she ends up causing too much trouble for him… Or worse, catch his suspicion.

“Are you around here, miss?” he asked her, but she stood up and turned her gaze from him. She simply shook her head sharply, but she was keeping herself from frowning.

“No, sorry… I live out of town.”

She could feel the cold nip at her skin.

I need to leave.

“A-Anyway, I’ll get going. I got a package to deliver, after all—”

“—Is that so? Well, why don’t you look at me, miss?”

Drats!

She laughed nervously and immediately moved away, her pace brisk as the man followed suit. She could already feel the darkness encroach from behind her, and she had to keep her composure. She couldn’t let him see the fear in her eyes— she couldn’t let him see the apprehension when his eyes were blank.

“Miss, I don’t bite,” the stranger said, his hand reaching over to grab Kirara’s shoulder. However, she only went faster, trying to outpace the man from even getting her.

Move move move move move—

“Look at me.”

She didn’t have time to react.

He was already looking at her, and she couldn’t look away from him.

…

He hummed, sounding… Satisfied at what he found. But it was only when she directed her gaze to his lips is when she found him smiling.

But that smile stretched from ear to ear. Like a horrific monster in its wake.

“Miss ████████, I found a new wanderer,” she heard the stranger speak, his hand holding the phone as he contacted his ‘friend’. “She’s currently in Meihai street.”

It was all it took for her to start sprinting.

She could already hear multiple voices in succession, some calling out to their newest prey while others screamed to get her before she ‘ran too far’. Alas, all she can do was run aimlessly, weaving through the endless alleyways and streets until she could find a spot to rest.

Her chest continued on heaving as she tried to catch her breath, her desperation evident… Until she found a lone house, 15 kilometers from her current location.

A safe spot for me to rest! She thought, feeling a bit relieved. Just in time— I don’t think I can run for a few more miles if its closed!

Pushing herself to a mad sprint, she directed her body to the rusty gates, shoving her entire arm to open it. Despite her legs aching for a break, all she can do was run and run, barging right through the doors and stumbling down.

As she caught her breath, she stumbled up to slam the door, hearing the chimes and rapid screams from afar. She was safe from her pursuers for now, but she knew that there wasn’t any time for her to rest. No, not when she’s clearly in danger.

Turning to the book, she couldn’t help but groan at the package. It looked like the package was ripped to its seams, but there was no time for her to get out and get it delivered. No, not when there’s people from outside that would most likely have her head.

… Although, there’s something strange about this thing…

She could see something peek out from the brown paper, though she wasn’t aware if she should peek in and see what’s inside. She was always told not to, since it’s for someone else, and it was rude to peek in someone else’s packages like this. However, she’s always been curious about other people’s packages…

…

Maybe it won’t hurt to look.

Pulling out the object from inside the ripped package paper, she inspected what it was. From inside, she was right to assume that it was a book, but the cover was what caught her by surprise. From how it looks, it was as though someone had forgotten to label it a title and only drawn a symbol.

She could hardly recognize that symbol other than the heart pierced with a blade, and the pages were maintained… though, the smell was not doing her any favors.

Kirara only gagged. She has a sensitive nose, and this was awfully pungent for her. God knows how someone wants this, but… Alas, she wasn't going to judge.

Hm… so she was delivering a book with no title. What a wonder. Still, there was no time for her to dawdle.

Pushing herself up, she walked forward and pushed the door open, this time carrying the book. The house she entered looked abandoned, and the interior speaks for itself with how it looked so… Abandoned.

Each room she explored, she's only met with the sight of trash, body bags (she had to stop herself from prying into them because of the smell), and abandoned literature. Some were salvageable enough for her to read, but others were drenched in inky darkness.

How horrifying.

After getting lost to God knows where, Kirara managed to reach to the staircase and clambered on upstairs, this time reaching the second floor. Walking down the hallway, she noticed the door etched with the same symbol that she saw on the book.

Is this it?

She walked over and turned the knob, pushing it open, and all she can do was cough at the amount of dust that poured out.

“Ack! Hack! What is this?!”

Waving her hand in front of her, she looked around, noticing the altar set up. It looked to be a bedroom, but the dust poured out suggests that—like the rest of the entire house—it had been abandoned.

What a sight to behold.

Walking towards the altar, she placed down the book and noticed the other parts of the room. The bed was unkempt, the bookshelves were raided, there were dead plants on the side of the walls, and the mirrors were broken. The only thing that was pristine was the window in front of her, but it only showed her the fog that permeated the outside world.

Horrific, but nothing Kirara can do to change. It was akin to a curse of the town she entered, which is not something she can do.

Though, as she looked down on the altar, she noticed something strange. There were unlit candles formed in a certain way, an altar of two Gods circling the world (both she doesn't recognize), a golden ‘heart’ that sat next to the jewelry box, and fruits that… weren't spoiled.

… how odd. Everything was so old and abandoned, and yet this looked… recent. She couldn't help but narrow her eyes at this change.

Ah, no time. She has to find a way to get through this predicament.

Her hand reached over to the book and she began to flip through the pages, trying to find what she can do. There were still the calls of her perpetrators outside, and God forbid does she forget about them. Especially now.

Then, she encounters that page.

Summon the World Reaper In order to summon the World Reaper, one must prepare the following ingredients…

“… A golden heart, fruits that were grown in the sanctuary of the dead for the past 24 hours… and black lit candles?”

She looked back towards the items on the altar— she can tell the golden heart and the candles were present, but the fruits were another thing. However, when she looked back at the pages, she could only raise an eyebrow in confusion.

Black lit candles? How can I achieve that? It's difficult to light candles in other colors!

Though, there was no time, so she began to search for matches. Maybe there was a way for her to light them in that specific color to call for this… God, and she has no other option than to follow the ritual in the book.

Flipping the pages for other guides, she noticed that there was one for black flames and grabbed the necessary ingredients— namely blood of the traveler (she needed to cut her hand for that), matches, and the small statue of the Gods of Cosmos.

As everything was laid out, she lit the candles and the black flames began to rise from the match, it's fire transferring to the wick of the candle. The flames began to rise higher, making Kirara pull away with her book.

She may be scared of the flames, but she has no time left to cower. She needed to do this now!

“R'luhhor ot shuggog n'gha, Y' ymg' uln l' real shuggog. Nafl'fhtagn!”

…

The ground rumbles as smoke rises from the black flames, engulfing the room. She needed to say it again, as per the instructions of the ritual.

“R'luhhor ot shuggog n'gha, Y' ymg' uln l' real shuggog. Nafl'fhtagn!”

It's rising higher… and higher… Kirara can only breathe shallow breaths as she chanted it one last time, not caring for the temperature that dropped nor the eyes that peered angrily to the one that awakened them.

“R'luhhor ot shuggog n'gha, Y' ymg' uln l' real shuggog. NAFL'FHTAGN!”

Then, she hears it.

The clamors of the chains, the temperature dropping to the negatives, and the many void like arms grabbing her body. It's grip was so unbearably tight, the messenger can only gasp and cry in pain as it clawed at her skin.

The body loomed over her for a moment, their many eyes peering to see who awakened them for their selfish desires. Snarling, the voice echoes from within the depths of the abyss.

“YOU WHO AWAKENED THE WORLD REAPER, DO YOU KNOW THE CONSEQUENCES OF AWAKENING THE ONE THAT LURKS BELOW?”

Her breathing became even lighter as the hands clawed to her skin, desperate to enter her body—to be able to get through her flesh and end her beating heart. She could feel bits of her sanity slip the longer the entity looked at her, and from it's gaze, she could only cower.

“YOU HAVE TAKEN ENOUGH FROM MY COMPANION, AND YOU DARE TO DO THE SAME TO ME? HAH! HOW BOLD OF YOU, YOU FOOLISH MORTAL,” bellowed the entity. “HOWEVER, I AM NOT ONE TO SPARE SUCH FOOLISHNESS FOR ANYTHING BUT MALICE, NOT AFTER WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO MY COMPANION.”

Their main hand reached over to Kirara’s throat, this time their nails digging into the skin, making her choke in her spit.

“NOW, I SHALL GIVE YOU THE LIBERTY TO SPEAK BEFORE YOU DIE. CHOOSE YOUR WORDS WISELY. WHAT DO YOU NEED FROM ME?”

Despite the literal danger Kirara was in, she can tell the grip on her throat wasn't hard enough that she was choking anymore. It was like the entity is giving her the grace she deserved— and one she'll take to her grave.

With bated breath, she can only utter, “I-I’m here to… get rid of you… And your followers of this town!”

“Wait, really?”

The many hands that held Kirara seem to dissipate to nothing, and the monstrous being in front of her seem to turn back to a… normal person?

Kirara stumbled to the ground as she finally got her breathing back, her head turning to the entity she summoned. They looked more shocked than anything, and especially with how they were not doing anything to hurt her.

… as much as before, anyway.

“Y… yes,” she replied, coughing. “You… aren't mad that I… am going to get rid of you?”

“Oh, no, I'm far from mad,” the God said, crossing their arms. “I actually want that. Please, get rid of me.”

… huh?

“You didn't hear me correctly?” The World Reaper asked, frowning. “I'll repeat myself if you haven't.”

“Please, human— I beg of you, get me out of here and save my companion from those cultists.”

@/navxry | do not repost my works | 2024 | entry for may ebg 2024 by @/xianyoon

[hashirun]

Finally received the book I ordered for September’s book discussion. It’s Makinilyang Altar by Luna Sicat-Cleto. Good thing I already finished reading The Secret History so I can already start reading this one. Or I can continue contemplating The Secret History a bit more, and start reading Makinilyang Altar over the weekend. I’m still not ready to move on, after all.

Anyway this was Shopee’s second attempt at delivering the parcel, the courier marked the first attempt unsuccessful with “buyer not on location” as the reason even though I waited for them the whole day. They didn’t even try to call or message me and they marked it as “buyer not on location”? But it doesn’t matter anymore, I already have the book, so.

[count-lero]

Even though Metternich’s birthday has passed, I would still love to make some remarks on the piece of artwork I dedicated to him this year.

The first one being that yes, all the people featured there are real historical characters who meant something to him at the most spectacular point of his life. There are field-marshal Schwarzenberg, Wilhelmine von Sagan, his two unfortunate daughters - Maria and Clementine, Friedrich von Gentz and, of course, Monsieur de Talleyrand-Périgord - le Diable boiteux himself. 🥀

And the second one is a close-up of a jewellery that Wilhelmine of Sagan is holding in her hand, since I put a lot of effort into that bracelet despite its insignificance on a scale of the entire work. The design was created without any visual references, though based on a spectacular description from that one book - “Vienna, 1814” - aptly mentioned by @joachimnapoleon in her reblog. :) 💠

I will allow myself to quote the whole passage here, since it’s fascinating in many ways. (However, it’s a translation from English to Russian and then back to English, so I apologise in advance for any inaccuracies in the transmission of original text by David King)

It is probable that on New Year's Eve Metternich was especially lonely and dreary. He tried for the third time to beg the Duchess for a date. "I would hate to spend the first day of the new year, 1815, without seeing you," wrote the prince.

Before the champagne glasses rang, a package from a Viennese jeweler's store was delivered to the Palma Palace. Opening a small satin box, the Duchess found in it a gold bracelet of amazingly fine workmanship, decorated with diamonds, rubies, emeralds and amethysts. In the days of Romanticism each stone had its own symbolism. A diamond and a ruby spoke of love and fidelity; the other two marked birthdays: an amethyst for the Duchess of Sagan, an emerald for Prince Metternich. The messenger brought the package, as ordered by the Prince, "by the stroke of midnight."

Metternich attached a letter to the gift explaining the symbolic meaning of the letter G engraved on each stone: "I would be happy to put this bracelet on your lovely hand myself and say: "Gottgebe Gnade, Gluck, Gedeihen" ("May the Lord send you his blessing, give you prosperity and happiness")."

What Metternich himself did on New Year's Eve is unknown. The poet-songwriter La Garde-Chambona claims that he saw him at the New Year's ball at Count Zichy's, and this is quite possible, although one cannot ignore the young lyricist's tendency to somewhat free handling of dates. It is more likely that the prince, having put down the goose quill and sent the parcel around eleven in the evening, spent the night alone in the office of the state chancellery.

[naradivision]

Summer was blooming in the quaint city of Nara, and the coming of summer also marks a very special birthday!

Three light knocks were heard at the door of Yuuya Kanata’s residence. When opened, a girl with red hair was standing in the doorway with a couple of parcels in her hands.

“Greetings, Yuuya -kun, I’m Alice Shiroka, from the Nakano Division, BittASweetZ. I’m here on behalf of my division to wish you a Happy Birthday, and to deliver some gifts! I sincerely hope you enjoy them.”

From Ririko, Yuuya recieved…

A pair of koi fish earrings!

“ This is our leader’s gift, she sends her thanks for the gift you gave on her birthday. She doesn’t know if you enjoy wearing earrings, but she said you looked like, “ The kinda guy who’d totally rock some cute earrings!”. I hope you decide to wear these one day, you indeed look like someone who’d “totally rock” in these.” She chuckles.

From Shu, Yuuya received..

Some orange daifuku!

“Shu told me that at summer festivals, they sell these desserts called “Daifuku”. She told me that they’re normally made with strawberries, but she wanted to try something a little different, and used some oranges instead. She gave me a sample to try, and they’re quite tasty, so I hope you enjoy eating them as well.”

And from Alice, Yuuya received..

A handmade jacket!

“ Oh, this one is mine. Since your birthday marks the beginning of summer, I wanted to make something that really encapsulated the season as a whole. It has some elements of a traditional yukata, and I did take some inspiration from them for this design. I do hope you find the time to wear this, it’d make me incredibly happy.”

After handing over the gifts, Alice wipes some wrinkles off her skirt.

“ Goodness, those packages did a number on my clothing! Ah, before I leave, there was something I wanted to ask..”

She looks down at her feet for a moment, before looking back up at Yuuya, visibly more shy.

“ Ririko told me that you and I are close in age, so I was wondering.. would you like to go on an outing sometime? Of course, y-you don’t have to! It’s just that I’d really enjoy getting to know someone who’s around my age..”

Alice laughs, mainly to ease the anxieties in her heart.

“What am I even saying? Apologies for such a forward request. I suppose i shall be off now. Happy Birthday, Yuuya - kun.”

and with that, the designer walks off, hoping that Nara’s leader didn’t notice how awkward that conversation was…

from @nakanodivision, Happy Birthday! 🎉

“Thank you for visiting, Shiroka-san! Also, could you please deliver my thanks to your teammates that I’m deeply moved by their thoughtfulness? I’ll definitely take good care of your and your team’s presents.”

Yuuya nodded as he helped the red-haired girl carry the parcels off her slightly wobbly hold.

He did recognize Alice. She was the member of Nakano Division whom he and his teammate had ever sent the birthday presents to some time ago. Actually, it surprised him a bit that she remembered his birthday.

“And about what you asked earlier, apparently I think I know quite a number of people that happen to be around our ages —So, would you mind if I ask them to have you join our hangout next time? Most of them are my former schoolmates and members of my clubs, therefore, you don’t need to be so nervous! I assure you that they are all nice and I’m sure they would be happy to meet you too.”

Despite how outgoing he seemed as a person, Yuuya deeply felt for people who were struggling to approach or make friends with others since he could also easily imagine how frustrating it was to be surrounded by many but still feeling like never belonged to anywhere. Besides, Alice did remind him of some people he has befriended, like… That one bashful animal lover who had finally reached the eldest year at the school he used to attend. This one was totally a good kid. It would be nice if he could know more of good friends.

And to give it some thought, he remembered catching a rumor that this boy appeared to be in trouble by a certain person who also happened to be one of his acquaintances as of late. As his senior who wasn’t sure what was really going on on his little junior’s side, maybe he should try finding some chance to invite him for one chill day-out with his group too. Plus, if what his hunch told was true; hopefully, he thought it would be the best to keep his another junior away from this boy for a while. Because, yeah, that one’s tendency was kind of something he should better keep an eye on...

Back to the present, Yuuya bidded farewell to the red-haired girl from Nakano when he saw she was going to leave.

“Goodbye and take care, Shiroka-san. Let’s say see you again next time then!”

—Goldfishes, fruity desserts, and traditional-style haori? Thinking about their choice of selection again and he had to admit that their presents had literally done such a stunning job to portray the vivid theme of summer festival. Seriously, those girls from Nakano had got quite a wonderful idea for this, thus it made some part of him wonder if he could come up with some striking ideas for his newly assigned project from university too…

Getting a bit carried away, soon the birthday boy had got back to his usual spot in his father’s room where his computer was still open on the desk. And just as he looked at its way, suddenly, he was met by a pair of familiar gleaming reds that had already stared at him.

“Hmm. Looks like you’re having fun, human.”

Only a glimpse of ANGE’s face was visible above the lower frame of his computer and there was nothing wrong in her tone of voice, but well…

To him, it was needless to see her whole expression for telling that his cybernetic roommate was currently sulking.

—Thanks for the gifts!

(And Sorry for the very late reply! Well, there were some left in the query!)