#v. better to die saving lives than live taking them

[yearnstarved]

✧. "YOU'RE THE LUCKIEST BASTARD I KNOW." Bones means that literally too. Many of Jim's accomplishments are due to his incredibly bright mind paired with those disastrously sharp instincts. However, they can't discount how lady luck favors him like no other.

"Trying to get Carol outta here was as difficult as trying to counsel Spock through his grief." Grief is grief even if short lived. Something like that sticks to your blood like an illness you can't ignore. "But you know me. Let's just way I have my own way of doing things. How're you feeling? You want to try standing with me? Stretch your legs and all."

Starfleet isn't short on physical therapists by any means, but again, Bones has a way with getting his way. He holds his hands out as an offer for support.

𝐚𝐬  𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝  𝐚𝐬  𝐡𝐞  𝐦𝐚𝐲  𝐛𝐞,  Jim’s  smile  remains  warm,  eventually  shifting  into  a  faint,  proud  smirk.  his  mind  drifts  back  to  their  first  weeks  at  the  Academy—though  from  this  vantage,  everything  that  happened  before  he  awoke  to  blinking  monitors  at  his  side  feels  distant.  he  considers  asking  if  that’s  normal  but  figures  the  doctor  has  no  frame  of  reference  for  patients  who  casually  return  from  the  dead.

❝  we’ll  see  about  that.  𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭  𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫’𝐬  𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤,  ❞      he  remarks,  deciding  that  even  fishing  sounds  heavenly  right  now...  anything  to  get  him  out  of  here.

❝  i  had  a  hunch  he  was  holding  it  together  for  my  sake  during  that  last  visit.  i’ll  talk  to  him  when  the  time’s  right.  we  both  know  he  won’t  come  around  on  his  own.  ❞      Kirk’s  tone  carries  a  matter-of-fact  certainty.      ❝  how  did  you  get  Carol  out  of  here  ?  you  must  have  promised  her  something  BIG.  ❞

[dilf-docs]

A Pillar I Am Of Pride

vander x younger!fem reader

summary: you're too young, that's what he tells himself; that you could be one of his kids. but of course you have spent too much time with vi, and unfortunately for him, stubborn rhymes with your name: you just don't know when to quit.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (25ish/45ish), smut, p. in v., ofc there is SIZE KINK who do u think i am (he can choke me with those huge arms idcidc), manhandling, thigh riding, dirty talk, virgin!reader, public sex (they violating every health code on the last drop), belly bulge, cream pie, breeding kink if u squint, this is basically pwp also with happy ending (no one blows up or dies yet THIS IS my story and i say they're all happy as a big family SHUT UP)

word count: 3,142 words

side note: hope the arcane community hasn't died yet, looking at the amount of votes i received on the poll where i asked if y'all wanted stuff from the show. I LOVE VANDER!!! saw the drawing and went insane as in a PRIMAL NEED TO WRITE SMTH abt one of zaun dilfs overtook my brain LIKE who do u think i am???? ++based this little filthy 2D piece on the hozier song dinner and diatribes.

You just don't know when to quit.

Vander isn't dumb. He's lived enough and seen enough. He's lived enough to tell when the admiration became adoration on those big eyes of yours, that looked up to him first but now down without an ounce of shame through his sturdy built whenever you think he isn't looking.

He isn't dumb, so he knows he shouldn't encourage it. Yet, Vander also thinks there is something different about you.

There is this desire to protect you, love you like one of his kids, but there is something unique about you he can't quite tell, enough to differentiate you from viewing you as part of them, even if there's a bed belonging to you next to theirs.

He is a fool, for thinking you wouldn't end up adopting at least one of his or the kids' traits. And of course, lucky him, it had to be Violet's headstrong nature.

"Vander" you call out his name, and he's brought back to the red and the bridge.

He can still see you, eighteen, fighting against an enforcer twice your size: because he took the life of your parents, faces Vander had seen in the mines and then at their meetings, ready to fight in the name of the undercity, for a change and a future: for their daughter.

That is what Vander wants for his kids in Zaun. For you.

So he negotiates with them, even if your eyes fall when you learn the truth one evening, eavesdropping. He pleaded you not to tell the rest, afraid they'll see him differently, just like you. Still, you keep calling his name like you did at the bridge: like a hero; savior. He saved you from death, but you'd die for him.

He keeps his eyes trained on the glass he's wiping as you take a seat in the stools infront of him, unable to look you in the eyes. It kills him; gets harder each passing day. He can't keep lying to himself, but he can lie to you. Protect you, he swore he would do that when he saved you and took Powder and Vi. So, yes, he'll lie his ass off, that his heart too hasn't changed after the years; that it doesn't beat for you and only you.

"Hey, y/n" he forces out, but even saying your name brings him pain.

When did you go from a kid leaving the last remains of hope and naive kids in Zaun drop sooner than others, to a woman equally dangerous in heart and beauty? When did you stop looking like a big sister or a babysitter, to more as a mother to Mylo, Claggor, Powder and Vi?

"Vander" you call again, touching his arm softly, but it burns. It burns.

He stops what he's doing, still without sparing a glance your way.

"C'mon, V." he hates the way such a silly nickname, a monosyllable on top of that, makes him feel. "Look at me, will you?"

He does so, because he can't deny you anything.

"There you go" you laugh easily, as if you didn't know the power you held over him. "Easy, isn't it?"

"You better let me finish" stern, but a smile betrays him.

"No one is stopping you" you huff, "or bothering you"

He finishes the glass, picking up another. "You are"

"Me?" you laugh the accusation off. Then it dies down, and all that's left is the neon hues of outside, reflecting something more mellow, akin to sincerity in your face. "You're right, it's always me"

He doesn't know what to say, all words lost. Silco used to say he knew how to move the people, that masses would follow just by looking at him: Vander always knew what to say.

But as of late, during the end of the day, when it's just you and the dirty glasses he cleans away, Vander finds it hard to speak even, like you're trying to talk in a language he doesn't know, or worst, used to, yet is too old for that now.

"Where is everyone?" he asks, and when you laugh, he knows he's said something stupid. But there are more stupid things to say, like I love you, so he's safe. For now.

"Might be because we're closed" you mock. "The kids are asleep, if that's what you truly wanted to ask. Made sure of it"

The last part, whispered like a secret. He can see the dare laced in between your words, the desire that pours like the drink he's serving you right now, but he's too old to play games.

"Good" then pushes the glass to where you sit. "Drink"

"Is it new?" you inspect the glass. "I hope you're not trying to poison me"

He laughs, "You know I couldn't hurt you, y/n"

There goes that expression again, and he hates to realize he's playing along.

"I know, Vander" you take a full sip, as if showing him just how much you'd trust him. Like he could have a gun put to your head and you'd understand; like he could have a hand around your neck and you'd breath the last huffs of oxygen in his name.

Silence settles in, until you decide to break it by saying:

"You know, if you wanted to get me drunk" the drink dissapears in a rough gulp, the liquid smooth while it burns and slides down your throat, "you could've just asked"

"And for what would I want to do that?" he bites right into the bait.

The stool creaks as you get up, and he finds your face closer than the smoke and ashes of when he takes a drag.

"Because I know you too want this" you whisper, dangerously low.

His breath hitches, heart beating fast. He could break you in two, if he wanted to, but now trembles like a leaf in the wind with just your perfume and eyes piercing through his.

"Want what?" he dares to ask, duties forgotten long ago.

You click your tongue, maybe in dissapointment.

You just don't know when to quit.

"The evening's slow" now sweet, tempting. "About to end"

He feels drunk, even if he hasn't had a drop. You're lulling him right into your trap. It doesn't matter if he has stopped you before: ignoring the bat of your eyelashes, the lingering touches and the sweet words that seemed reserved for him only.

"What would you do?" he gulps, Adam's apple bobbing. To me, too coward to voice out loud; to stop this nonsense.

You walk over to him, standing still, almost defiant, even if he doubles your size; the thought only makes heat pool in your stomach. The ember of the moonlight shines over your corageous eyes, and Vander thinks he really needs to shorten your quality time with Vi. A hand traces over his defined pecs: hands he's seen before hold a gun, now touching him with a softness that doesn't belong in the undercity.

"Don't you think knowing it's late makes it easier know what I have in mind?" you laugh, and it tickles parts in his body he isn't ready to say yet. "Just give in"

You should've know when to quit.

His eyes darken, and this isn't the Vander you know. If anything, you should be scared, but you rub your thighs together, spot already wet.

"If anyone's about to give in, it's you"

Before you can register, his lips smack together with yours as he takes the lead. His big hands cup your face, traveling down until they reach your hips, and the pressure of his size feels so much better than you imagined.

"Tell your man what would yo do tonight?" huskily whispered your way. His knee finds it's way between your thighs as he applies pressure to your already slick cunt, making you yelp. "Or cat got your tongue?"

You're at loss for words, for the very first time in a while. All that time spent provoking him, edging and pushing for a reaction, so sure of the hidden flame sparking behind the curtain of smoke of his pipe, to know surrender so easily, like your body is unable to react at all.

So instead, you entangle your fingers through his greying hair, a small whine escaping your lips, the sleeping fierce need of battle now translated in the fight for dominance, his mouth growing more demanding.

Vander pushes your body against the bar, making the wood creak. He applies more pressure with his knees, making you whimper again, his tongue reaching every spot inside your sweet mouth.

"God, you're so sweet" he mumbles.

"Then why did you stop yourself all this time?" you breath out, as tempting as the shadows that walk through the streets.

Hi smiles devishly, biting your lip. "Ain't nothing stopping me no more"

He uses your body as he pleases, handling it to his complete and utter advantage, thumbs now digging into your hipbones before he feels you grinding against his knee.

"Greedy little thing. Haven't I taught you manners, ey?" but the way he looks at you, like a starved man who's been denied a meal for years, encourages you to keep rolling your hips. Once you find a steady rhythm, he releases your hips and moves to grab your wrists, pinning you down in the free bar. You whine, the pain of the hard wood on your back digging on your skin.

"Vander" you gasp, but he shuts up the pain by forcing his lips right back. His handsgrab back ahold of your thighs so you keep up the rhythm. He can feel a spot over his clothes start to dampen, doing nothing but augmenting the hunger. God, he can even feel the smell of your arousal.

You moan, head leaning back.

"Feels good?" he asks, and you mumble a nonsensical myriad of words that sound like yes. He nips your neck, making you squirm under his touch.

"C'mon, baby. I ain't deaf but I didn't hear you" Vander taunts, biting still. Now he travels to your collarbone and then tits, removing your shirt to reveal no bra under. Of course, you little vixen had planned it all and he fell like a fool. Not that he's complaining, of course, giving a lick to the soft rosy skin around your nipples.

"M-more, please!" you whimper out loud, mind numb.

"You wanted it so bad, yet can't even speak" he murmurs, sucking a spot dangerously near to your nipple. Your movements against his knee come to a halt, but he makes sure to keep you and your puffy core grinding against his thigh. "Talk"

He should know that you wouldn't give up that easily, prideful as he was, no matter if this is what you've always wanted.

"I said talk" your legs tremble around his when he forces you down harder. "I wanna hear you ask for what you say you wanted so bad, don't think I didn't notice all your traps, taunts and plays, little vixen"

The nickname makes you moan, inciting you to pour the words out.

"Ruin me, Vander" and he barely has time to react, knowing that no man has ever touched you before, your untainted territories dripping for him. "Please- take me and make me yours"

"You know I've never denied you anything" he breaths against your neck, "how could I ever say no to you if you ask so nicely, huh? I see you remembered those manners"

It's now his hand what touches between your thighs, leg long gone. His fingers rub firm circles around your clit through the cloth, making you shiver.

"Let's start small, yeah?" he encourages, "I know you're my brave girl, but I would like you to come on my fingers first"

Vander strips you down, eyes going dark when he sees your needy cunt on display. He shuffles himself down between your legs, and the pressure is new and much, you feel you could come with just the touch of his hand.

"You're so pretty. Can't believe you're giving all of this to an old man like me" he kneels down as you sit legs opened up on the bar, dragging his tongue through your wet folds.

"Sit still, yeah? Let me take care of you" he licks again, gently sucking on it as well. He can't help but wonder why he folded so easy, as if he hadn't put a stop or ignored all of your previous attempts at having him. Now he has you, under him, saying his name in a way he hadn't before, as he makes out with your puffy clit.

"Fuck" you gasp, head falling against the wood. Your hands and toes curl, waves of sensations never felt before washing over you, as Vander continues giving your pussy ministrations.

The energy is electric, your arousal flowing like a river, making wet slurping sounds come out of his lips, feeling up the empty bar, your moans as back track filling his ears. Vander's beard is covered in your juices, making all of this the more obscene.

"I see you liking it" he jokes, licking some of it off his mouth. He adjusts your legs over his broad shoulders, barely noticing the added weight. Your thighs are so close, he can feel them tremble as he slips a finger inside of you, pumping in and out.

"V-Vander" you whine in ecstasy. He loves the little sounds coming out of your mouth; obscene symphony. He adds another finger, now curling them upwards, making your walls drip more while clenching around them, loving the sensation. Your nails dig so deep, you can feel blisters inside of them, holding yourself for as what would be your first orgasm.

"I-I think I'm going to-" he can sense it, years of experience ahead from you. So now he gives his fingers a break, kneeling to let his tongue enter the game again. It swirls around the tight walls, making you squirm.

"Fingers. Now" you demand, and he's carrying your legs again on his shoulders, thrusting them inside of you aggresively. You feel your folds clench around them, your very first orgasm washing over you.

"You behaved well" he praises while kissing your puffy cunt, skin glistening and still sensible. "That's my brave girl"

He uses the cloth he's cleaned the glasses with to wipe off himself. You gasp, laughing even if your eyelids feel heavy.

"What? Think I'm gonna be dirty when I fuck the shit out of you?"

You didn't think his mouth could be so filthy, used to his fatherly side, but oh, you're not complaining. He removes his belt, pulling his pants down. Of course he's huge down there, you think, as the tent behind his underwear marks a reasonably large silhoutte.

"Now, will you be brave one last time? I don't want to scare you, or hurt you?" his boxer falls to his knees, dick hard. You gulp, but can't back off now. He, however, can sense your doubt. "Just say it, and we'll stop"

"No" even you are surprised by the conviction in your voice. "I want you, Vander. Always will"

You open up your legs, closer to the edge of the furniture. He walks over until his dick brushes your cunt, pulling up your legs once again, a position you've discovered as of today, might be your favorite.

"See, there is a reason I didn't clean you up. Don't think I don't know my manners as well"

He lubes with your still wet pussy, wasting no time to rub his dick against your glistening folds.

"We're alone, but don't want to wake up the kids, ey" you nod. "So, you'll behave?" you nod again. "Good girl"

"Now, if it hurts, tell me and I'll stop"

Vander aligns himself up with your entrance, and with one deep motion, buries himself all the way to the hilt. It's almost as if he's forgotten his gentle side.

"Mphm-" you're about to scream, but his big hands cover your mouth.

"Bad girl" he tuts, "you promised"

Your back hurts, arching itself from the wood as you take all of his girth, walls squeezing him perfectly.

"Don't worry, the pain doesn't last long" he assures you, hips going back and forth softly. He picks up the pace, slowly but determined, seeing you have adjusted to his size already. "There. Take it, my girl"

He buries himself inside of you, body numb at his size and strident movements of his hips against you.

"Y-you're so b-big" you speak up for the first time in minutes, letting out another moan. "I can even feel you-"

You don't finish the sentence but the image is there, right infront of him. That only encourages him to fuck you harder, the thrusts now more brutal and violent.

"Tell me, where you feeling me?" you can't speak, so you point to your stomach. "Yeah? Filling you up so good you can't even speak?" then pounds you even harder. The pain is intense, but so is the pleasure, making you mumble more incoherences while even tears begin to well up in your eyes.

There is pressure on your lower belly, and it's not his bulge. No, you recognize it, despite having only felt it once: your orgasm is building up again. The furniture squeaks, looking like it will break under both of your weights combined, his thrusts now sloppier and messier. He was also close, grunting when your walls begin clenching around his dick.

"Fuck, Vander" you whimper out. "I think I love you"

Before he can register the weight of your words, thick ropes of cum fill up your pussy, his whole body shaking and finally succumbing to his age. He empties himself inside of you, your greedy cunt taking every drop. It's a fleeting second, but he remember Felicia, and the news she dropped that day. He thinks of a child with your eyes and his hair, the cruel world that awaits them but still can't let you waste any of his seed.

The room goes quiet as both of you try to even your breaths. After a while, your confession settles in.

"I don't think I love you" he gets down, kissing your nose gently. "I know I do. Can't deny that anymore"

The adoration on his eyes is so pure, you feel like crying again. The feelings you kept to yourself and left like crumbs for him to pick up through out this past days have finally transformed into something real. So real, your pussy still feels warm, just as your heart.

He easily carries your body on his strong arms, up to his room. You had never slept there before, and despite the numbness, you keep your eyes open, excited as a child.

"Good" you laugh, "because I was running out of ideas"

[drarry-soulmates]

Thoughts on drarry

I didn’t like Draco before reading the books. In the movies, they just portrayed him as a bully so I didn’t care for him. In the books he def hits different. :‘V

I mean, he’s still a “bully” in the sense that he messes with Harry, but he’s not actually bullying Harry. He picks on Harry, in the same way you’d mess with your crush, and Harry can more than hold his own. Harry even scares him:

“Missing your half-breed pal?” he kept whispering to Harry whenever there was a teacher around, so that he was safe from Harry’s retaliation.

So… he was scared but so gay, he couldn’t resist becos this is literally the only way he could keep Harry in his life. x’D Imagine being afraid of your crush’s wrath but you just.. can’t help it lol >///<

And literally picking on Harry is the only way he can continue to talk to Harry because after the rejected handshake (and being in different Houses), Draco is too prideful to grovel for friendship. Harry basically condemned their relationship to schoolyard 'enemies’ who will risk their lives again and again for each other. Who’s mutual obsession becomes so obvious that everyone just knows that they look out for each other, despite outwardly acting like they hate each other. When other characters can see it, you know it’s real.

Despite being schoolyard 'enemies’, Harry absolutely falls for Draco so hard. Harry can’t ever stop staring at Draco no matter what Draco is doing (whether he’s acting suspiciously or just eating his lunch), and Draco likewise cannot stop watching him. Draco can’t stop talking about Harry either, in the same way when you have a crush, you can’t stop talking about that person. When i have a crush, i am talking about them literally nonstop. Every little thing your crush does is absolutely fascinating. That is Draco with Harry. Draco’s dad had to tell him to shut up about Harry LMAO. Draco not realizing how obvious he is being:

“… everyone thinks he’s so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick — ”

“You have told me this at least a dozen times already,” said Mr. Malfoy, with a quelling look at his son.

Like, bruh, just pls STFU XD it’s no wonder Voldemort became suspicious of his feelings for Harry:

"He did not come and join me, like the rest of the Slytherins. Perhaps he has decided to befriend Harry Potter?”

lmaoo.

And of course how Narcissa just assumed that Harry, a kid who she must’ve known wasn’t exactly friends with her son (them being on opposite sides of the war) would know or care to take notes about the whereabouts of her son in the middle of a goddamn war:

“Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?”

The whisper was barely audible; her lips were an inch from his ear, her head bent so low that her long hair shielded his face from the onlookers.

“Yes,” he breathed back.

And of course she was right. Harry did know. In fact, both of them had just finished saving each others’ lives.

Yep.

Harry saved the life of a Death Eater. In the middle of the war. Against Voldemort.

At a time when the less Death Eaters there were, the better. Even Ron had thought Harry was being ludicrous for going back in the fiendfyre that Draco’s friend started in an attempt to kill them:

“It’s — too — dangerous — !” Ron yelled, but Harry wheeled in the air. “IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I’LL KILL YOU, HARRY!” roared Ron’s voice.

Harry risked his FRIENDS’ LIVES.

For Draco.

Draco, who had at this point, openly admitted to being a Death Eater. Draco, his supposed sworn enemy in school and outside of it.

Harry could care less about Goyle or Blaise, he was all about saving Draco. Harry didn’t even notice that Crabbe was long gone at this point LOL.

And right before the fire, Draco did the same for him. After Draco confronted Harry instead of surprise attacking him (knowing full well that Harry is too formidable in an open confrontation), Draco refused to let his friends hurt him as Crabbe was about to unleash a non-killing hex:

STOP!” Malfoy shouted at Crabbe, his voice echoing through the enormous room. “The Dark Lord wants him alive —” “So? I’m not killing him, am I?”

And then: “Don’t kill him! DON’T KILL HIM!” Malfoy yelled…

Draco NEVER yells. Ever. He is always so calm and collected (when he’s not obsessing over Harry). So this is honestly incredible to me that he is yelling….. He is straight-up panicking because his friends might hurt Harry.

And then of course in Malfoy Manor, even at great risk to himself and his family, he doesn’t reveal Harry’s identity. When asked if Harry was in fact Harry Potter:

“I don’t know,” he said…

Although he has no problem giving away Hermione or Ron’s identity.

Look, Draco, isn’t it the Granger girl?” “I … maybe … yeah.” “But then, that’s the Weasley boy!” shouted Lucius, striding around the bound prisoners to face Ron. “It’s them, Potter’s friends — Draco, look at him, isn’t it Arthur Weasley’s son, what’s his name — ?” “Yeah,” said Draco again, his back to the prisoners. “It could be.”

Draco had never been just another Death Eater to Harry. Draco was someone Harry had grown to fall slowly in love with over the years, despite their animosity. And Draco, for his sake, had fallen so hard for Harry, THE sworn enemy of Voldemort.

In the books, he and Harry are obviously hopelessly in love with each other. Countless passages showcase their obsession, including Harry’s constant thinking about Draco’s looks, like his eyes or his hair, or his smirks (Draco’s version of winking). Harry doesn’t think about anyone’s eyes as often as he does Draco’s (Ginny’s eyes we only know are brown.. What shade? idk, DRACO’S EYES HOWEVER). He knows Draco so well, which is shocking because they’re not even friends or in the same House. He knows Draco better than he knows all of his actual friends, except for Ron & Hermione.

He can read Draco so well, even though Draco is a pro at Occlumency because he had learned from a young age to shut down his emotions and present a cold, strong exterior. This again, goes back to his pridefulness due to his rough upbringing under Lucius. But Harry can see through that. And Harry is likely one of the very few that can. (On a side note, Tom Felton said that if Draco had been raised by Hagrid, he would’ve turned out much differently, even been perhaps a hugger. lol.)

Draco’s obsession, then, is even more incredible when you consider that he is actually really good at hiding how he feels. But with Harry, he just cannot for the life of him, hide it. You can’t help who you love, after all. Despite Draco’s obsession being more obvious because he’s just so damn aggressive with it, Harry’s tiny, shy expressions are utterly endearing…. like that time Draco was in the middle of an OWL exam and Harry merely *walked into the room*:

Harry distinctly saw Malfoy throw a scathing look over at him; the wine glass Malfoy had been levitating fell to the floor and smashed. Harry could not suppress a grin.

How adorable is that?!?!?! (from BOTH of them!!!! you’re really telling me that Draco went from getting an O to an E grade in his Levitation portion of the exam just becos of Harry lol. and Harry’s tiny little shy smiles aweee) *squeals* and what’s more:

Malfoy elbowed past Hermione to block Harry’s way up the stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful and his pale eyes glinting maliciously.

“Shove off, Malfoy,” said Ron, whose jaw was clenched.

Harry just stayed quiet. How gay is this scene? Like, a guy who’s blocking your path is a total romance movie trope LOL. I’m just imagining Harry standing there blushing. >///< Ron is often a cockblock, ngl (more on that in my analysis of DH). Harry’s personality in the books is pretty outgoing, and he most definitely has a temper too, towards others. But when it comes to Draco, it’s Ron that gets overly aggressive, even when Draco isn’t messing with Ron. In fact, often when anyone talks badly about Draco, Harry doesn’t. He does talk non-stop shit about Umbridge, Snape, or Rita Skeeter, but not Draco lol……. He hates Snape too, and often compares Snape and Draco, as he thinks about how he hates Snape far more than Draco lol.

Snape had emerged from the staircase leading down to his office, and at the sight of him Harry felt a great rush of hatred beyond anything he felt toward Malfoy…

Even though Draco messes with him far more than Snape does. He loves the attention he gets from Draco, so much so that once Draco has his own shit to deal with in HBP and stops messing with him as much, Harry takes to literally *STALKING* him with a magical map all around the school………….

Despite his determination to catch Malfoy out, Harry had no luck at all over the next couple of weeks. Although he consulted the map as often as he could, sometimes making unnecessary visits to the bathroom between lessons to search it, he did not once see Malfoy anywhere suspicious.

Lmao. Remember, at this point, he still had no concrete evidence Draco was doing anything sus. None of his closest friends who had both been witnesses to Draco’s supposedly sus activities agreed it was anything worth worrying over. But nope, Harry can’t drop it. It’s to the point where even Arthur Weasley knows about his crush……

“I think you missed something,” said Harry stubbornly.

‘Well, maybe,’ said Mr Weasley, but Harry could tell that Mr Weasley was humouring him.

lmaooooo. Arthur’s reaction to his baseless accusations towards Draco was hilarious. x’D It’s truly fascinating how the adults around them just know. Both Draco’s parents and Voldemort, just as Arthur knows for Harry.

The story of Harry and Draco is an accidental horribly tragic love story for both repressed gay boys who are too afraid to actually admit how they feel. :( Their untold love is truly the epic forbidden love story of the entire goddamn series. It had the best most perfect build-up and chemistry, and JKR just like, totally overlooked that due to her irrational dislike of Draco Malfoy for some reason. 😮‍💨

Welp, that’s it for now. I’m in the middle of getting through HBP with my notes. I’ll make a new post once I finish taking the rest of my drarry notes with the series. I still had a ton more to say about DH but i’ll leave it for once I’m actually finished with the DH notes.

[noceurous]

take the heat away, make the girl stay

your boyfriend is always capable of finding solutions to anything, including heatwaves

warnings: cursing, mention of kids, i’d say dilf!dave but he is already a dad, possessive!dave, some ice play, smut (18+), p in v, fingering, usage of various nicknames (honey, darling, baby), daddy kink, praise kink, some cumplay, this is basically little plot big smut

a/n: this is my entrance to #hotdilfsummerchallenge by @hellishjoel (thank you so much kylee for this amazing challenge it really inspired me). it's also my protest against this heat and humidity on where i live. as always reblogs/comments are always appreciated.

You huffed, annoyed from the heat. Constantly tossing and turning on the couch. It felt like hands made out of fire and hot steam were constantly caressing your body.

You got up, heading to the fridge. You needed something, anything, cold to keep you sane. You smiled when the cold air from fridge hit your face when you opened its door.

The picture Dave’s kids drew were decorating the fridge. You loved when he went on full dad mode sometimes, buying fruit and veggies even snacks rich in fibers whenever his kids came to stay at his place. He cared about their classes and high school gossip, used his sources to track their potential boyfriends.

And no, they didn’t have a clue about their caring father was dating a girl who was closer to them in age wise. He knew Carol would have a hard time to keep her mouth shut about you, filling girls’ heads with wrong ideas. He was waiting for the best moment to open up to them first. That’s why the pictures you two had were either on his phone or in your place.

You took out a glass, filling it with ice, and pouring soda over it. The sizzles and bubbling noise made you feel better already. Pressing the cold glass on your cheek, whimpering at the feeling. You could feel sweat moving down between your breasts and your back. The coldness of the glass made you realize how hot your body was.

You heard your boyfriend’s voice as he entered the room, turning your body towards him. “Honey did you see my t—“ He stopped talking when he saw you.

Leaning over on his counter in your underwear and a small tank top, pressing a glass to your cheek. Your body was glistening with sweat.

“I didn’t see anything.” You said, checking him out as he did to you. He had just gotten out of shower, water droplets still dripping from his hair. Clean shaven as always. Lack of facial hair brought out his lips and cheeks, which you loved to wander on with your lips.

“Too hot?” He raised an eyebrow, doing the best he could to save your look in his memory. In small amount of fabric and shining like a goddess.

“I think I have just passed out and woken up again by the heat. We need to buy a new ceiling fan.” You said, pressing the glass on your other cheek.

“What’s wrong with the old one?” He asked, resting his hip on the kitchen counter, watching the sweat drops move down from your sternum disappearing inside your top. The need to touch you became more persistent.

“It’s about to die.” You explained after you pressed the glass on your forehead, trying to cool down your body before drinking your soda.

“Okay. I will take care of it.” He nodded, taking a mental note. Slowly leaning to give you a kiss but stopped when you placed your hand on his chest.

“It’s too hot.”

“Even to kiss you?”

“Even to stand near me.”

He looked you up and down, looking for a sign of doubt after you denied him. “Is this because I had to cancel our trip to Hawaii?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged taking a sip from your still cold drink. Your brain almost froze with your overuse of ice but you tried to play it cool. Freezing seemed much better than boiling.

“Darling, trust me there is not even one cell I have that does not want to take you to Hawaii. It’s just some idiot messed up something important and I need to clean after him. Promise, I will take you there after I’m done with this. Kids are still with Carol, we still have time.”

You rolled your eyes, finishing up the rest of your drink. Dave made plans to spend the last two weeks of summer with the girls in his cabin, and of course you’d be staying here watering his imaginary plants. You had no right to bitch about how good he was as a father, when he made you this wet by being so.

He leant down to kiss you again, but you scoffed away. He groaned, placed his arm on your waist, pulling you closer to him to smash his lips on yours. You sighed when you felt his lukewarm body pressed against yours. You quickly gave into the kiss, he was too good of a kisser for you to push him away.

He placed your glass on the counter, dipped his fingers in to take out the ice. You watched water droplets slide down his long fingers, just before he placed the ice where your shoulder met your neck.

You hissed at the cold feeling on your skin, moving your head to the side to give him more access. “See, that’s better right?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, watching his gaze fixated on your neck. “I think I can kiss you there now too, no more blaming it on the heat.” He leant over you, tongue tracing along the wet trail where the ice left.

You felt your knees get weaker as his tongue moved on your body, the wetness pooling in your underwear became more prominent. “D—dave.” You said, hands went to his belt of the bathrobe.

“Try again, darling. Who is making you feel good?” He said as he swiped the ice across your collarbones, following the trail with wet kisses, sucking down on the last spot.

“D—daddy!” You exclaimed, unwrapping his bathrobe, letting it show his glory.

“That’s right. Do you want Daddy to make you feel better? Make the heat go away?” He placed his forefinger under your chin, tucking it up for you to look at his eyes.

The familiar warmth of brown of his pupils left its place to hungry darkness, waiting for your permission to go on.

“Yes.” He motioned you to the kitchen counter. Palm tapping on the very expensive white marble.

“Hop on.” He said as he helped you sit on the counter, standing between your legs.

His gaze was dropped down to your chest, seeing your nipples perked up through thin fabric. He licked his lips, watching you wiggle on the counter. “Take off your top for me.” He ordered and watched you obey just the second he finished talking.

He moved the half melted ice to his mouth, placing it between his lips as he placed his hands on you. Your body shivered at the cold contact of his fingers, wanting more. He gently pushed you down on the counter, watching your body jolt with the cold stone.

His lips moved across your naked chest, moving south from the hickey he just gave you. He circled it around your nipples, watching them perk up against the cold. You looked like a statue he carved to himself lying under him, all pretty just for his eyes.

When the ice melted down to a tiny indecisive shape, he swallowed it. His lips and tongue were cold enough to give you shivers when he pressed a kiss above your belly button. “Mine.” He murmured, taking another ice from your glass between his lips. Droplets mixed with water and soda dropping on his floor.

His tidy mind was too focused on you lying needy in front of him. He threw it inside his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. He placed it back between his lips, kneeling in to move the ice along your thighs. His hands were placed on the back of your calves, gently separating your legs. He smiled when he saw the large wet patch on your underwear, leaning closer to trace the ice along your inner thighs, wanting to see your reaction.

“Oh!” You held your breath, feeling the cold between your legs. Your eyes fluttered, your clit throbbing inside your panties. You bit down on your lower lip when you looked up and saw his cock; in a dark shade of red, looked like it hurt him.

You licked your lips at the sight, wanting to touch him, feel him. When you tried to move your hand to him, he held your hand, placing it next to your head. “What do you want?” He said, moving the ice on your lower belly. Watching the cotton soak up the droplets.

“I want you.”

“You already have me darling. You need to be more precise.” He said as he moved the ice higher; from your hips to your belly, then to your sternum, missing your breasts and your needy swollen nipples on purpose.

“I want you to fuck me until I’m no longer bothered by heat.” He smiled, pressing the ice on your lips.

“Open.” He pushed the ice between your lips, feeling himself throb when he saw how you took the ice between your lips.

He cupped your pussy, before dipping inside. Fingers tracing along your slit. You moaned. “Fuck, you are so wet baby. And so hot, what will I do with you?” You wanted to open your mouth but his gaze on you was a warning enough.

He collected your slick from your slit, pressing his finger tip on your clit. “Oh, Daddy!” You moaned, tugging down on his hand holding yours. His finger circled around your entrance, pushing his finger inside. You moaned under him, feeling the coldness left from the ice.

“So tight, so warm…” A whimper left your mouth when his finger curled inside you. “That’s my good girl, so responsive.” He kissed your temple, pushing another finger inside you.

“Fuck!” He chuckled, fastening his fingers as his other hand held your wrist tightly. Still surprised with the way you clamped down on his fingers, small whimpers leaving your lovely lips and eyes flashed open with pleasure. Small frown between your eyebrows from the pleasure.

You came down around his fingers, chest moving up and down quickly. He pressed a quick kiss on your neck, pulling out his fingers.

He sucked down on his middle finger. “Taste so good, better than anything you can imagine.” You felt yourself flutter, as he raised you back on your feet.

“Take off your robe.” You protested, lips still felt numb from the ice. You pushed the soft material down his shoulders, making him stand naked as you did. You looked down when it fell to ground with a thud. Feeling victory when you saw his aching cock; tip glistening with precum.

You kissed on his neck, taking in the scent of his shower gel, pine and something more bitter. His body shivered slightly to press of your cold lips. You kissed along his shoulder and chest, as he wrapped your leg around his waist. His cock aligned perfectly to your entrance with your angle.

Before a sound could leave your mouth, he pressed his lips to yours, taking in your whimpers and moans as he pushed himself into you. He bit down your lip when your warmness surrounded him, groaning against your cold lips as he started moving inside you.

You placed your arms around his neck, fingers tangling around his locks. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. “Shit, you’re so big.” You whispered between kisses, nails scratching the back of his head.

He nudged your nose with his. His large hands pushed your body closer to him. Feeling the heat radiating from the space between your legs. Perfectly pressed on his groin.

You were looking at him, head dizzy with pleasure, eyes were locked into his. Your breasts were pressed onto his chest. “You’re a sight, aren’t you?” Too afraid to admit to himself how precious you were to him. Afraid you’d be slipping from his fingers if he got any louder. One of those fingers had a ring mark that already faded away, he wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

“I’m your sight.” You responded, lips forming a soft smile on his, pressing a gentle kiss. You loved to be owned by him, being his and his only. Letting him take control of your mind and body when you feel overwhelmed to do it by yourself.

Now the heat was the least thing on your minds when his balls felt tighter and you felt your walls closing around him. “You’re close.” He said as his chest swollen with pride, feeling himself larger than he already was.

You nodded, breathing got quicker and you felt your silk coat your inner thighs. “Yeah.” You answered, your body moved without consulting your brain and your elbow hit your glass, knocking it down.

Pieces of glass, soda, and ice mixed all together on the floor. You didn’t care when you felt your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, almost slipping from his arms but he was holding you tightly.

“That’s my good girl, my perfect girl coming for her daddy.” His hand at the back of your neck, holding you up as his thrusts got sloppier.

He pressed his nose down at your shoulder, his teeth sinking down into your shoulder. Marking your soft skin up, his eyes closed with the pleasure. You felt his hot cum fill you up, leak from your hole to smear around your thighs.

He stayed inside you for a while, kissing you with all he got. It felt like you belonged to him, your place was between his arms. “We’re going to Hawaii tomorrow night, I’ll make some calls, and you should pack your bags.”

“Really?” You could not stop smiling, cupping his cheek to make sure this was real.

“Anything for you.” He said kissing the top of your nose.

“Then we need to take a cold shower again, after I clean up here.” He clicked his tongue on his upper palate, wrapping your tired legs around his torso.

“Shower first, cleaning up second. It's too hot.” He said as he carried you to the bathroom. You giggled as you burried your face on his neck, mentally preparing yourself for the second round.

[yearnstarved]

✧ "THAT'S A HIGHLY SUBJECTIVE DEFINITION." McCoy didn't deny that he did hold contempt towards Khan. There was a lot of grace he withheld based on the fact that he wasn't ready to forgive. The nightmares of seeing Jim's stiff body hadn't stopped so this was the most cordial he could be.

"May I remind you that we're all doing our best. You are safe from harm but everything else is a repercussion."

patience is, admittedly, not one of his finer qualities. perhaps under different circumstances, his capacity would be greater ( in fact, in the past, it has been ), but these days, his reserve has run rather dry. the doctor’s response earns him a cutting glare from the augment.

“ observation & scrutiny are HARDLY synonymous. i’m in no mood to be scrutinized today. ”

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Don’t Take My Sunshine Away, Part I

Title: Don’t Take My Sunshine Away, Part I

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader (Sunshine)

Fandom: The Gray Man

Word Count: 2.5K

Series Summary: You lived your life on a schedule. Everything is planned out from sunrise to sunset. But what happens when you go out on a limb and out of your comfort zone? Will it have dire consequences?

Chapter Summary: You’d agreed to meet someone from the internet and you find yourself tied up in a basement. 

Warnings: dark fic!, attempted mugging, drugging, abduction, suspension bondage, Murder Daddy™️, oral sex (m receiving), dub-con, non-con, unprotected p-in-v sex, knife play, biting, blood play

A/N: I had an idea about Lloyd Hansen. Here is that idea. I haven’t written for Chris Evans’ character since Steve Rogers pre-Infinity War so this was an exercise and a half! Also, many many many thanks to @peyton-warren and @raccoon-eyed-rebel for helping me entertain Lloyd and for helping me to not lose my mind whilst writing this. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art: by me

Spotify Playlist is here. 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

It’s just your luck, honestly.

You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. The place was a dark street. The time was 9:03 pm.

Well, technically you could blame your Tinder date for this. He didn’t fucking show up and he didn’t respond to your texts or calls. Like he just disappeared off the face of the Earth. You ended up waiting for an hour and decided to just pay for your third cup of coffee and leave.

Luckily for you, the buses were still running and there was a stop just across the street from the diner. You climb off your stool at the counter and exit through a particularly noisy door. It alerts some guys down the street and they turn to look at you before turning back to each other. Your sigh of relief is reversed when you get across the street and hear one of them shouting at you before moving closer.

You check the bus schedule that hangs in the bus shelter. You only have to wait for five minutes for safety. 

What could go wrong?

“Hey baby, can I have your number?” The overwhelmingly strong skunky smell of bad weed hits your nasal passage and you gag. “Oh, what? I’m disgusting to you? Stuck up, bitch!”

“Look, I’m just trying to get home. I don’t want any trouble.” Your hand went to your pocket where you had your safety keychain on your keyring.

“Too fucking bad because you just landed yourself in trouble, cunt,” Three long strides and he has you in his grip, pulling you behind the bus shelter into the empty alleyway. He pushes you onto the wet pavement and is on top of you in seconds. He watches as you open your mouth to scream and he clamps a hand around your throat, cutting you off. “Who do you think is coming for you, unlucky bi–”

“What the fuck…hey!” A voice is coming from the street and getting closer.

Your attacker is being pulled off of you and it’s so dark in the alley that you can’t fully see who grabbed him. You see a dark blur and you hear sounds of a struggle before a strong pair of hands is helping you up. 

“Are you ok, Miss?” You’re being ushered down the alley to the only lit streetlight. The more you walk under its glow, you notice the man who saved you. Your eyes are drawn to the push broom on his lip first, then to his slicked-back hair, and finally to his dramatically-patterned polo and pastel chino pants.

“Yeah, I’m fine…I think. Thanks.” You reach out your hand to touch his where it lingers on your arm. He doesn’t attempt to remove his hand, even after you squeeze it with yours quickly.

“No problem, why don’t I take you home? My car’s just around the corner here.” He does attempt to pull you towards the street. You know better than to let anyone take you to a second location, so you put your hand up with a smile.

“That’s quite alright. I’ll just wait for the bus if you don’t mind.” You try and remove your arm from his hand but his grip on you gets tighter.

“Let me at least walk you back to the bus stop?”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” You try to turn away and he pulls you closer to him.

“Why did you have to make this difficult, Sunshine?” His angry growl is quiet but no less intimidating.

“I’m sorry, wha–” You don’t get to finish as you feel a sharp prick in your bicep. Looking down, you see a syringe sticking out of your skin. You go to pull out the needle but darkness fades into your eyesight and you slip off into the void.

You awake to a pounding in your head. Your arms are sore. Your legs are numb. And you can feel the stiff presence of duct tape over your mouth. Opening your eyes, you try to raise your hand to shield your eyes from the sudden brightness but you realize your arms and legs have been immobilized.

Looking around, you see that you’re suspended about three feet above the ground in some pretty elaborate rope bindings. Your wrists are crossed against your bare chest. Your left leg is being held up straight, while your right leg is only supported by two lengths of rope on your thigh, leaving your foot to dangle which means your pussy is on full display. 

You hear a door open and two sets of footsteps walk down the stairs. As the steps get closer, you hear two voices as well. 

“...didn’t have to punch me so fucking hard!”

“Yeah? Well maybe if you didn’t have your slimy hands all over my things, I wouldn’t have had to bruise your fucking spleen. Don’t be such a pussy, Dougherty!”

 “Fuck you, Hansen.”

“Don’t be sad I have a new plaything and you don’t.”

“Yeah. Just don’t wreck this one like that last girl.”

You struggle in the ropes and try and grunt loudly through the duct tape and the metal anchor that holds the rope loudly jostles. You pick your head up and look to your right as the men come into view.

As you recognize the man who had you on the ground, you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw the geometric-patterned polo-wearing man who tried to “save” you. 

“I’m so glad you’re awake. I know you must have a lot of questions. But, you’re gonna listen first,” He walks until he can grab onto the ropes that hold you up. Looking down at you, he smiles sweetly. He begins to swing you toward him, letting go and watching as you swing back and forth, “Now, my name is Lloyd Hansen, but you are to call me Sir. You now belong to me. From every thought you have to every step you take. I own all of it. You may be wondering why I chose you of all people. Well, it had to be you, Sunshine. You’re the one.”

You are at his mercy as his hands grope at your tits and he pinches your nipples. You turn your head to look away but he just grabs you by the chin and makes you look at him.

“Now, Sunshine, you take what Sir gives you and you are appreciative. Trust me, this will all make sense later. But for now, I think it’s time I claim what’s mine.” He stalks over to your legs, standing between them. He places a kiss on your left ankle as he grabs at your right thigh. Pulling your core flush with his clothed hardness, you can feel exactly how excited he is to own you.

“I’d hate to interrupt, but–”

“But yet, you are interrupting. What?” Lloyd says as he trails kisses down your calf, his mustache tickling you as he moves.

“Well, I just…you said you would pay me. And I don’t really wanna stay around for whatever this is, honestly.” 

Lloyd finally turns his head to the other man in the room before patting your leg, “I’ll be right back, Sunshine. Don’t you go anywhere, ok?”

Fucking asshole.

Pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket, Lloyd starts counting bills, “So what do you say to…a hundred bucks?”

“I say fuck you if you think I’m taking less than half a yard. Shit, I didn’t even get to fu–”

The pop of a gunshot cuts through not only his sentence but also his left eye. You watch as Lloyd pockets the money and turns back to you with a smile.

“Fuck, ok. I didn’t plan on shooting him in front of you. But…well, I did,” He caresses your cheek before ripping off the tape from your mouth. He tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, expectantly waiting for you to speak.

“What do you want from me?” Your wrists hurt from struggling against the ropes.

“Oh, Sunshine. I want everything from you…eventually. But for now, I want to use your mouth.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, “Those fucking lips of yours look so delectable.” He traces your bottom lip with his thumb and you debate biting it. Then, you remember the dead guy in the room.

Just comply. He won’t have to hurt you if you comply.

You clear your throat to get Lloyd to look at you. “Um…S-Sir?”

“Look at you calling me Sir already like a good girl,” He beams, looking down at you and holding your face in his murderous hand, “What do you want to ask me?”

“Are you going to kill me, Sir?” You couldn’t stop the fat tears from falling as you blink up at his face. You watched as his smile fell and he crouches to bring his face to your eye level.

“I would love to tell you that I won’t kill you, Sunshine. But it really all depends on you. If you don’t give me a reason to kill you, I won’t kill you. It’s as simple as that, Sunshine.”

You feel your eyes glaze over as you thought about what Lloyd had said. You didn’t want to give him a reason to kill you. You also know that there was no one coming to save you. You had no family, no friends, no roommates. You had lived a solitary life. 

The sound of Lloyd clearing his throat brought you back to reality.

“Use my mouth, Sir.” 

No sooner does the half-sultry half-terrified sentence leave your mouth, than Lloyd is reaching into his chinos to pull out his fat dick as he walks around you. You tilt your head back and are met with his impressive package. Eight inches of veiny length in your face suddenly is a lot to handle. As he strokes himself, he makes sure to keep it just out of reach. You hate yourself for licking your lips and following his hand with your eyes.

He positions his dick slightly over your mouth and squeezes his length from base to tip so that a dribble of pre-cum hits your lips. You snake your tongue out to taste him, the salty bitter taste you expect turns out to be almost sweet. Why couldn’t he just taste terrible?

“Open up, Sunshine.” He steps closer to you as you part your lips. He doesn’t stop pushing in until you feel his balls touch your nose. You close your lips around him and breathe through your nostrils. 

Inhaling deeply, you’re hit with the familiar scent of sweetness mixed with musk—sort of Earthy. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it was African black soap. You knew the smell very well, you used the body wash every day.

“Fuuuuck, baby. Gonna fuck this throat.” He wraps his large hands around your throat as he pulls out slowly, leaving just the tip before he slams back in making you gag. 

He starts a steady rhythm and soon his balls are slapping you in the face. You can deny it all you want, but the way he fits perfectly in your mouth is obvious. The way your hands clench into fists and unclench denotes the urge to grab him and pull him deeper. 

One of his hands moves from your throat to your tits. Pinching your nipples and groping the soft flesh must not be enough because soon he is slapping at your breasts, getting you to grunt around his dick. The groan that leaves him is so sinful, you wish you could squeeze your thighs together.

But you don’t have time to worry about that because Lloyd is pulling out of your mouth. A string of saliva connects you until he steps back. You try to follow him with your mouth but he’s out of reach too soon.

“Sir?” You don’t like the air of desperation in your voice when you speak. You watch as he moves to the other end of your body and you soon feel his hand roam from your thigh to your pussy.

In one swift motion, Lloyd is inside your cunt. With the grip his hands have on your hips, you know it’s going to hurt tomorrow. But, that’s a later problem because Sir is fucking you like he hates you. You should hate this, but you don’t. At least not yet.

“Fuck, Sunshine…knew your pussy was gonna feel good but DAMN!” 

You can’t help the slew of sounds that escapes your mouth as he fucks you. The last of which sort of sounded like “Hnnnngg”. You feel as if you are going to explode at any minute but a spike of fear hits you as you think about where Lloyd is going to finish. You’re not on birth control. The speed of his thrusts picks up and you can feel him swell inside you. Fuck it.

“Sir, cum with me!”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuuuuuuuuuuck…” Lloyd latches onto your stretched left leg with his teeth, leaving behind deep and angry bite marks as he empties inside you. Pulling out, he watches his spend leak from you, righting his pants.

You are in a state of bliss so deep that you barely register as Lloyd bites into your right thigh enough to break the skin in a few places. But you can feel the sting of his butterfly knife as it moves over your skin.  The letters “LH” well with blood on your leg as silent fat tears roll down your face.  

“Now you can wear my bite mark like the badge of honor that it is. And when that fades, you’ll still have my initials so you can be returned to me if you are ever lost. I don’t plan on losing you, so you better not plan on getting lost, Sunshine.”

“I don’t want to get lost, Sir. I like it here with you.” The tremble in your voice doesn’t hide your fear, and part of you doesn’t want it to. You want him to know he doesn’t have to worry about losing you somehow.

“Think you can behave for a bath and a meal? I’ll have to supervise the bath, of course. And we’d be eating together. Unless you like being hungry, in your own filth with my cum dripping out of you all night. What do you say?” Lloyd offers, the fingers of one hand ghosting over his initials on your thigh.

“Would I still have to be tied up, Sir?” So many questions you could have asked, but you picked this one. 

Maybe if your hands were free, you could…do what? Fight him? Pick a lock? 

No, just comply. You can do this. 

“You won’t be tied up, but I do have a gift for you upstairs. But you can only have it if you’re a good girl. Are you gonna be a good girl, Sunshine?” While he spoke, he dragged a fingernail from your thigh to your upper torso as he walked around your body to your head.

“I’ll be a good girl for you, Sir. I promise.” The words on your tongue felt both foreign and familiar. Almost like you weren’t afraid for him to hurt you. 

You were afraid that he wouldn’t. And that scared you more than anything. 

Part II

A/N: There will be more of this. I’ve never written for Lloyd before but I enjoyed him as the little devil on my shoulder.

@raccoon-eyed-rebel @peyton-warren

If you would like to be tagged in the next installment, lemme know 🫣

[fateandloveentwined]

5 notes on Xie Lian and maybe a note more

omg this took so long i'll proofread in the morning. written in chinese originally, under "read more". annotations on [google docs] with translations to come because there are too many.

(if you do chinese, skip to the cut! it is way better than the translation cri.)

it is fortunate that their ship name is coined Hualian and not Hua-xie. The flower withers, the petals fall. Yet there is a time for blossoms, a time for withers — if huaxie it really is, still it is befitting of their eight hundred years of separations and reencounters.

仙花垂憐，川城傾謝。

Heavenly flowers empathise and shed mercy; entire rivers and cities bow down in gratitude.

身在無間，心在桃源。

Whence the body dwells incessant the heart thrives beyond, content.

o n e .

He was pierced by a hundred swords. Thereafter, he offered to be pierced again. The nightly terrors that prowl wild in his dreams: he was ready to embrace it once more. The heart pierces, and yet it trembles.

t w o.

A thought experiment: if Wuming didn't die for Xie Lian at the rematerialisation of the hundred swords, would Xie Lian have accepted his second ascension?

The world is a wretched sea. Mortals, misery. Some people carry with them the weight of conscience, atlas or abyss on their shoulders as they edge stepwise towards the heavenly skies, for they know that the higher they go, the more power they wield in their hands to change the course of the stars. Lin Shu stands on the shoulders of legacy and demarcates Conscience on the ground. He steps into the encirclement he has carved: he holds himself hostage and falls into the nether realms of the incessant inferno, subject to an unyielding pursuit for bygone honours and nobility in store. It takes courage, to live like this.

But it also takes another kind of courage, to not live like this. Xie Lian wasn’t like Lin Shu. Dethroned, mortalised, buried and stripped of power and grace, he wandered on earth for eight hundred years. He did not save the destitute mortals, desolate and crying for help. He did not bestow on them the bountiful blessings, as what a god could do. The did-not-do’s — it takes in another courage to be him.

t h r e e.

Had Xie Lian really collected scraps these eight hundred years? To deny would be an injury to his memoir, but there is more to that. He served as the high priest of a kingdom, a general to an army; through the grapevine, the crown prince in white had played many roles on the stage of life, a hundred years here in the role of one, and a hundred from forth in the robes of another. In time, the tales of the one who inspired rose and ebbed, yet the legacies remain. He didn’t protect the people with his deified status, yet what endures is his compassion and mercy. In the rain, the figure clad in white walks past the world in joy and tears and touches the hearts he passes — this was his salvation, and his ascension to godhood.

f o u r.

At his second banishment, Xie Lian implores Jun Wu to assuage him of his merit and luck. Mortals light incense in exchange for blessings in supplication. Xie Lian disperses Fortune to earth instead, and disassembles Divinity for the common people to carve out blessings of their own lives.

The works of one cannot salvage the teetering constructs of a foundering world. The world is a tapestry of woven histories; people save the people as the tales unfurl. The stitches tangling in a sea of light, blessed faces lit up in the night by the millions of lanterns adorning the households of the earth, keeping it bright as stars in the sky. And it was so, what Xie Lian and Hua Cheng did.

f i v e.

The sword nears his neck: he is unfazed. The tenderness and gentleness of the noble spirit endures, staid as the meekness of nephrite jade. In the vicissitudes of temperaments, he sits, blasé; he does not concern himself with the triumphs and setbacks of life.

Clouds and storms wash across the world as he continues, with eased smiles and casual dialogue.

It is the most pitiable thing, of all in the world, gazing upon one who smiles placid in face of abject misery. He laughs in his affliction, yet is there such a thing, to be okay in utter wretchedness?

Fleeting moments of forlornness and joy all condensed in the time of a single gaze: his experiences refine him into a jade of the heart. The days of the ingenuous youth awash in ages past, gone were the luckiest teen of the kingdom, but the pureness in the eyes behind the sheaths of pain remain.

— I’m used to it, it matters no more;

who is there in this race with him but the immutable laws of nature in the crescent moon and wind?

The splendour surges, the crowds fete, the splendour falls — in the desert there is none: there is no glass of water waiting at your salvation. Dust and silt fork at each’s turn of fate; flies shovel across the path towards their better destinies. So long as one has feelings, has desires, how could one be truly free? The flower remains. The vista is unchanged. Yet the splendorous tower — the radiant memories of the past — bygones — and still he says that although the body dwells incessant, the heart thrives content. Where, pray, is the fount of the utopian peach blossom? How so, that the heart is at peace, in face of all this?

Yet he is well. His heart at peace. Where the heart lies, the peach blossoms spring.

+ 1

Xie Lian is this person, as such. Though the spring of the peach blossoms have long since dwindled, he hopes, towards.

Original chinese version below the cut

所幸，他们选的CP叫花怜，不是花谢。不过“��落花开自有时”，若真为花谢，也配合他们这八百年的聚散离合罢。

仙花垂怜，川城倾谢。

Heavenly flowers empathise and shed mercy; entire rivers and cities bow down in gratitude.

身在无间，心在桃源。

Whence the body dwells incessant the heart thrives beyond, content.

一、

百剑穿身后复挺出，再一次历万剑戳戮之痛。这一点，我是痛心、亦是悸动的。

二、

有过这样的想法，花城若是没有为谢怜挡下了第二次的万剑戮身，怜怜是不是不会愧疚如斯，会接受第二次的飞升？

“琅琊榜”林殊跟谢怜是不一样的。苍生于苦海，有的人会承载着毕生愧疚跬步而行，因为上了天庭，才有最大的力气赋以一拼，拯救最多的人。此后一生举步维艰，承载着、背负着的不再是一个人小时候的清平理想，更是踩着他人骨脊向上爬行的椎心之痛——往后是画地为牢，是不顾己身也要焚尽一切，济众生于颠簸的无间岁月。这无庸置疑是一种勇气。

可谢怜没有这么做。失去了神力、身分，八百载流连人世，他没有拯救到苍穹下的芸芸众生，没有为他们争取最大的福祉。可这，也须要另一股勇气。

三、

谢怜这八百年真的去收破烂了吗？有，当然有。可他当过国师、当过将军，成就过数之不尽，江湖传闻中不为人知的百年故事。他没有以神明身分保佑万民，可他的慈怜犹存；雨中笠者，垂緌间点拂人间百态——这是他的拯救、他的神明。

四、

第二次飞升之际，谢怜哀求君吾散去自己一身功德、一身气运，自此潦倒人间历尽尘俗。人皆供神求福，谢怜将其福泽尽散，颠沛流离之���得享其华。他致神明于凡人，使世间重拾自由、意志。

孤木难支，一人之劳无能挽苍生、解万苦；大厦将倾，独木焉能匡扶？拯挽苍生，自苍生始，遂藉万民之手拯之。此后万家灯火灿若星河，烟火千里红尘无虞。谢怜、花城做到了。

五、

刀斧加身而神色不改、面无惧色，谦谦君子温润如玉，今古兴衰谈笑风生中雨过天青。宠辱不惊，看庭前花开花落；去留无意，望天上云卷云舒。

云淡风轻。

最疼是口是心非之人，三两莞尔散去心中阴霾，愈是疼痛，愈是笑逐颜开，浑若无事。可刀斧悬颈，万剐千刀，心中岂能无恙？

百般悲喜付诸抬首一眸，千番历练炼就柔和似水：如切如磋、如琢如磨。削磨净尽的是昔日的棱角利刃，透澈瞳帘背后是磔刑凌迟般的刀剜苦楚。“习惯了，不足为外人道矣”——清风拂我，明月清风我。

可笑这世间起朱楼、宴宾客，人情冷暖的荒漠里连救命的一杯水也不肯施舍。浮沉各异势；泣血蝇虫笑苍天：蚁排兵、蜂酿蜜，有感情、有欲望，世间焉得自在者？花相似、景依旧，烟锁秦楼、却道“身在无间，心在桃源”。桃源何在，心何安之？

然心安。心之所向，是桃源。

Tl;dr：谢怜就是这样的人。纵武陵人远，吾往矣。

Full annotations found here. Untranslated for now because there are simply too many; I suggest copying and pasting into the browser if you are interested in the poetry and verses cited. Many of them are not used as per their original meaning, however, so it is 99% on me if you caught the reference but did not understand it.

Anyhow, a note on the two most important allusions, because there is value in such:

[1] 身在无间，心在桃源。Whence the body dwells incessant, the heart thrives beyond, content.

A suggested translation of "Body in abyss, heart in paradise" because I vehemently abhor the official tl.

Incessant hints to the nirvana of buddhism. I didn't play with the idea of using paradise like in John Milton's poem to encapsulate the utopian ideals of Jin dynasty Tao Yuanming's Taoist Peach Blossom Spring visions. In Tao's essay he expresses the notion "I can live in a peaceful provincial paradise where the peach blossoms spring and forget about worldly matters", which is not exactly the biblical Eden. Probably owing to the idea that Xie Lian never actively sought out an extraterrestrial, heavenly, peach-blossom-spring paradise, I did not translate it literally here but figuratively, though opinion probably divides on this one.

[2] 纵武陵人远，烟锁秦楼。

念武陵人远，烟锁秦楼。——《凤凰台上���吹箫·香冷金猊》 李清照

李氏取自：

烟锁凤楼无限事，茫茫，鸾镜鸳衾两断肠。——《南乡子·细雨湿流光》 冯延巳

Extreme liberties taken. Li Qingzhao wrote the first poem from the perspective of a lover. She sits at her own chambers reminiscing about her lost lover. This in turn was alluding to Feng Yansi's poem. Both works reference a tower/chamber where two mythical lovers spent their time at before ascension. As such, this phrase denotes here something unattainable from past memories and someone locked in perpetuum, in stasis, waiting for something to come.

In relation to this line on the chamber/tower by Li Qingzhao, a direct allusion to Tao Yuanming's peach blossom utopia was also alluded to in Li's poem in the antecedent line, despite both being used to speak of romance and not sociopolitical utopian ideals. The sleep-deprived me thus thought it "apt" to cite both lines in the writing to express Xie Lian's longing for the peach blossom paradise, despite said paradise being no longer extant on Earth, and him being in incessant hell. The peach blossoms in question tie in with mxtx's allusion of the peach blossom spring in tgcf's famous quotation; thus explains the reason for all the convoluted quoting.

this much for now. I hope something makes sense, at least. The english version is very, very figurative since I realised the chinese version was nigh impossible to literally translate without dedicating a relatively great amount of time to it. I don't know how this will be received at all, but why hi, and hope it is something at least xD

[what-have-i-unleashed]

the sweetest poison

continuation of this

carrion trio angst i love them so much i have to put them through the wringer for real

(cw: violence, attempted murder, suicidal thoughts)

"no, no, no, please. sans, don't-"

"don't worry. i'll put you out of your misery. i'll save you too, like i'll save everyone."

crow is, as expected, wriggly when murder tries to pin him down on the ground. his clawed hands dig into murder's arms, tearing the clothes and drawing blood. but murder is used to this - the pain that is. it's easy to ignore the stinging pain and numb the vortex in his screaming soul. just one stab through the soul and crow will be free from the agony of this cursed world.

it was a mistake letting someone close to him again, after all this time. and now crow is hurt, and it's all his fault.

he can fix this. he can still salvage this.

"sans, sans, i don't want to die! no, please!" crow cries, a pitiful sound so different from his usual cheer it makes murder's own soul hurt just hearing it.

"it's okay, it's okay," murder attempts his best soothing voice. "it'll be over soon, i promise."

LIAR.

murder ignores papyrus' scoff as he struggles to overpower crow's surprisingly strong grip on his arms. honestly, he doesn't understand why crow is so adamant on this. dying is easy, living is hard - isn't that always the case?

after all, death will gladly welcome both of them in his realms. murder can't dream of a more peaceful ending than that.

(is it?)

murder is so focused on his soon-to-be-victim that he doesn't see a spear directed towards him. the attack hits him and flings him away from crow. as he tries to get up, multiple spears sprouts from the ground and trap him in a makeshift cage.

"undyne...?" he mutters. no, that couldn't be possible. there's no reason why undyne would be in snowdin at this time for no reason. murder can only turn his head to see a pair of blue wings covering his sight of his beloved messenger. as the interloper turns around, murder freezes. it is undyne, but not the one he's familiar with. this one sports a jacket and a pair of goggles just like crow, and she looks furious.

(ah, so this is what the true hero of the underground looks like.)

undyne takes a step towards murder, in her arms holding crow, who looks so much smaller (so much more fragile) without the weight of most of his wings. murder only has eyes on the frazzled little crow, feeling something heavy deep in his nonexistent stomach.

"dyne, no..." crow whispers, weakly tugging on undyne's jacket. the ginger looks at crow, who continues. "don't hurt him... let's just leave... please..."

for some reasons, that plea doesn't make murder feel any better, only worse.

(he doesn't deserve it - the compassion, the mercy. he needs the pain of retribution inflicted upon him.)

as the two winged monsters disappears, murder crumbles on the ground. he doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry at what just transpired.

I SHOULD'VE KNOWN YOU'D FAIL. YOU'RE NOT HIS SAVIOR.

(he could never l o v e again.)

numbly, he picks up one of the scattered black feathers and wonders if he'll ever see that friendly smile again.

[mariyekos]

Oooh yeah. I feel like Credo would have to jump through a bunch of mental hoops to justify letting the Order have Nero, but he'd definitely get there.

Quick addition after I typed the rest of it up, but it just occurred to me that there's a big difference between the Nero and Kyrie thing: Nero is the only one who would work (other than Dante, who's harder to capture) because he has the blood of Sparda. Kyrie's place could be taken by anyone, because all that's required for her part is a human. Credo would sacrifice Nero even though he loves him because he's the only one who could be sacrificed, whereas he wouldn't sacrifice Kyrie because (he loves her more and) her place could be taken by anyone else. Kyrie is taken specifically to hurt Credo and Nero, which goes against his moral code. Necessity in choosing Nero versus cruelty in choosing Kyrie. I see Credo as someone with a very strong moral code but also a strong sense of necessity, who can permit even terrible things if he thinks they're necessary for the greater good.

For why Credo would be okay with Sanctus using Nero, I have 2 trains of thought on justification:

1) Agnus/Sanctus tell Credo that Nero will be used to get closer to the Savior, but they don't tell him they plan for Nero to be absorbed and die. Credo accepts their plan because okay, helping to form the Savior is good, and even if it's an unpleasant process, Nero will be okay in the end. Nero may or may not forgive him, but as long as Nero and Kyrie survive, everything will be okay. The world they're creating will be safe and holy and all will be for the better, no matter the cost.

2) Agnus/Sanctus tell Credo that Nero will become a part of the Savior and thus technically die, but they also advertise it as a Holy joining of eternal bliss, and thus a gift to Nero. As in, they tell Credo they will bring Nero in, lead him to the Savior, and then he will essentially be carted off to whatever the Order's version of Heaven is. (If you're familiar with it, Galahad immediately dying/ascending upon touching the Holy Grail in some variations of the story comes to mind). Immediate, guaranteed Salvation sounds good to Credo. Furthermore, he knows Nero has had a hard life and has always been an outcast, so maybe this is for the best for him. His life has been full of suffering, but in death and sacrifice he will be at peace and part of a greater being and purpose. It would be an honor.

In both versions I could see Agnus placating Credo by telling him that momentary suffering is worth a chance at eternal bliss (either from being joined with the Savior in Scenario 2, or being one who helped usher in the New Age cementing him a blessed place in either current society or Heaven-equivalent in Scenario 1). Sanctus would use this to convince Credo that any pain/wounds Nero may be dealt when capturing him would be worth it. He promises they will do their best not to hurt him too badly, keeping injuries to a minimum and doing absolutely nothing that isn't strictly necessary, but whatever must be done to secure his cooperation will be worth it.

Now I'm imagining a scenario where Nero vs Agnus is drawn out a little more. Say Agnus beats Nero and starts toying with him. Stabs him over and over (even more than he does) to see how he heals. Credo makes it there but is somewhere far off, pretend there's another, distant observation deck, and watches in horror as Agnus monologues and has his way with Nero. At that point I think Credo would realize that no, this is not worth it. The Savior would not sanction this. Sparda would not condone meaningless torture. Even if Nero were to be joined with the Savior- which Credo is now starting to doubt, because if Sanctus and Agnus lied about how they were going to treat Nero prior to using him to power the Savior, why should he think they were telling the truth about what would happen to Nero during and after the fact?- he wouldn't want it. Credo can see that now. Nero fought until his last breath. His actual last breath. I'd have Credo watch Nero "die" when his heart stops after the last of the stabbing. Could have him cry out, distracting Agnus and alerting him to his presence, but still be out of sight so that Nero doesn't notice him as he Awakens, repairs the Yamato, and attacks Agnus.

From there Credo would be a delightful mix of uncertainty. What does he do now? Nero lived. He fixed the Yamato- one of Sparda's swords!- and healed from a mortal wound. How closely is he related to the Savior? Is this what true Holiness looks like? Why does he have a shade, where Credo transforms? Nero was calling out for Kyrie; the boy has a good heart and it really sinks in that Kyrie will never, ever forgive Credo if he lets Nero be killed, and while Credo had previously told himself that would be okay, he knows that's a lie. Seeing Nero die had nearly killed him. He can't live with himself if things go according to plan. He's a fool. The scene in the church was distressing enough, this moreso, and the peace that Sanctus claims will come to them at the end of their plan is not worth the suffering in the interim. And again, how does he know things will go according to plan when he's now seen the evidence of Sanctus and Agnus' lies? How can he place his trust in their promises of peace and salvation? How can he stand by and watch them hurt innocents for a future they promise will be worth it that itself has been built on the execution of a lie?

Again, I have a sort of split in ideas here. Agnus saw Credo, so I think Credo would be conflicted about what he does next. Does he confront Sanctus about what he has seen? Does he go back to Sanctus and pretend he's still loyal to secure more information, when Agnus saw and heard him and might tell Sanctus Credo can no longer be trusted? Does he go find Kyrie to ensure she's safe? Does he locate Gloria, who at this point he realizes is most likely a plant by Dante's people, and beg for her aid? Does he try to find Dante? Does he try to find Nero? Who can he trust? Who would trust him after what he has (and hasn't) done?

(tl;Dr I think in Credo's head, killing Kyrie is absolutely 100% not okay ever. Killing Nero isn't ideal, but it can be acceptable under the right circumstances if done for the good of the people and isn't too brutal. He realizes Kyrie may hate him for it, but all that matters is that she lives. In the end he cracks under the pressure regardless, because he loves Nero too and doesn't want him to die.)

i love credo dmc btw he kind of sucks. definitely the sort of person that would result from having to raise your own sister (and nero) when he was a kid himself, lol.

[katlyntheartist]

Dude I am so glad I'm not the only one who thought the movie was just ok. The writing in this movie was the trilogy's weakest. They spent more time on callbacks/easter eggs from the last films and shoehorned lines from the game instead of establishing Shadow as a threat and putting more weight into the stakes and having the story flow better.

I just hate how they NERF sonic and Knuckles so hard in the beginning, Sonic didn’t even fight back in the first fight and there’s wasn’t much action overall. The super fight at the was the only good thing to me. The ending where live and learn comes in doesn't feel big or earned because they focused so much on the robotnik v poppop comedy schtick (throughout the entire movie) it took away from the make it or break it moment. Also Gerald's grief over Maria didn't hit as hard because they never have a flashback showing us his relationship with her.

The overuse of comedy, lack of logic/no explanation as to why certain things happen like Robotnik's survival, Gerald being alive and escaping captivity, how easy it is to break into a top security facility and giving government official clearance if you act like a karen, how one of the major agents who saw her superior supposedly die didn't know he was in the hospital, putting too much weight on Tom getting gut punched where it had not been established that Shadow punching humans does more than just knocking them out, etc.

Shadow's characterization was the only saving grace for me which is a shame that he was heavily underutilized. It was like they had to use Keanu sparingly because he costs too much as a VA. I came in with low expectations after watching the 2nd trailer and even then I'm a little disappointed with how scared they were to commit to this high stakes darker story. If it weren't prudent that Maria's passing Being the catalyst that sets this entire story into motion they would've found some way to sugarcoat or side step their way out of doing it. They already made her death and accident instead of telling a more interesting story of G.U.N being morally gray. Idk....maybe I'm being too harsh but for what's arguably considered the best Sonic story of the entire franchise this felt like it could have been better.

I'm scared to answer this with anon off because Sonic fans are notorious for attacking anyone who dares to dislike any Sonic media

You make a lot of good points and I was thinking about most of these when watching the film. I do feel like once the general hype wears down, that people will realize the movie has more flaws than they realize.

And the last thing I want to do is to take away the joy that people have for this movie. I am happy that so many people are having fun and loving the film. I, like you anon, just wished that the script was tighter, the jokes and dialogue were less child pandering, and the pacing wasn't Illumination levels of 'fast paced with no breaks.'

[adampalharine-art]

Day 016

Back in time? That was crazy! It was idiotic! It was impossible!

Leo: – That's...

Donnie: – ...Possible. – Leo looks at his brother, surprised to see him opening his eyes. – It's... Possible, but... It's not that simple, the energy you would use for this would kill you.

Mikey: – Not if it's just a few minutes... maybe an hour at most I could still open a portal and take Donnie to the hospital. – He lies, thinking that he would actually die if he did that, but he wanted to give Leo a chance to save his boyfriend, to save Rapha and Donnie, since he imagined that his brother would not survive the injury.

Leo: – I-I don't know... I... – he feels Donnie's grip on his shoulder falling silent.

Donnie: – If we're going to be so bold... Why don't we try something more radical? – He looks at Mikey. – We can stop all of this. – He speaks gesturing to himself.

Mikey: – W-what do you mean? – Then he opens his eyes wide, seeming to understand what his brother wanted to say. – Are you… talking about stopping Draxun from creating us?

Donnie smiles, his face lighting up in a slightly proud way that Mikey caught his crazy idea.

Donnie: – I am. – he has another coughing fit, spitting out more blood, almost knocking Leo to the ground. – Think with me... You want to send Leo, in this state, to fight against you, an hour ago, when he was at full strength. Not to mention that Leo would never kill you, even if it would save humanity. But... Even in this state, he can help Lou Jitsu defeat Draxun and thus save us from a shitty creation and stop all of this.

Mikey ponders the matter, so much energy would certainly kill him, but... He could fix things, he could REALLY save the brothers... Well, at least one version of them.

Mikey: – I'm cool. – Look at Leo. - Lets do this.

Leo: – Wait, Mikey, I... – he feels Donnie's hand on his shoulder again, that grip that said it was better for Leo to shut up and just agree. – V-very well... Let's try. – That's his answer, yet when the youngest walks away he looks at Donnie. – What’s on your mind? – she speaks between her teeth just so he can hear.

Donnie: – What... You and I are not going to get out of this. – She looks at Leo with fear glaring in her eyes. – But... If we help Mikey open this portal, he might survive.

Leo: – And... Why would we do that?

Donnie: – I... I just thought it's better for him to live in a world where... He can have a second chance, than in one where we end up leaving him alone again, so he can martyr himself for the rest of his life for death pain brothers...

He hears that, feeling a strong tremor run through his body, lowering his eyes to the ground, his vision blurred and his mind numb. But then he sees Mikey trying to open the portal, sees the cracks in his arms, pressing his lips together and then looking at Donnie.

Leo: – I hate it when you're right.

Mikey stands up, taking a deep breath, looking down at his hands. He... He would probably die from it, but... If it would save his brothers. He was happy with that. He concentrates, opening the portal, seeing his fingertips begin to crack as the mystical energy begins to run up his arm.

He starts to see cracks go up his arm, feeling the portal becoming unstable, maybe he was mistaken and couldn't do it alone. He grits his teeth, startled when he feels hands on his shoulders, looking at Donnie and Leo.

Leo: – Come on, little brother!

Donnie: – Let's clean up this mess!

[yearnstarved]

have you ever thought about dying your hair blond ? ( INBOX PROMPT | @danversiism )

★ MCCOY'S EYEBROW QUIRKS UP. "As your CMO on board, I feel like I'm required to ask this first." McCoy shifts his posture in his chair. "What the hell are you on?"

[pinkopaque19]

The Myth Of Ambrogio

Ambrogio was a normal Italian man who went to see the Oracle of Delphi. When he saw the Oracle, what she told Ambrogio about the blood and the moon, the young man was confused, so he waited until morning to see her again. When he saw the Oracle and beautiful maidens again, Ambrogio noticed one of the maidens was the Titan goddess Selene, who he fell in love with, but what Ambrogio didn't know was that sun god Apollo was also in love with Selene.

When Apollo found out, he didn't want Selene to fall in love with the human, so he placed a curse on him so he could never walk around in the daylight. Ambrogio still loved Selene and knew that because she was a goddess and he was mortal she would live and would die so he went to the underworld seeking to meet with Hades. He made a deal for Hades to keep his soul while his body still lives on earth.

Hades accepted Ambrogio's deal; if could steal Artemis' silver bow and arrows he would make him immortal. Ambrogio agreed he went to Artemis asking to join her group of hunters; she trusted him and let the man join her followers. Ambrogio tried to take the bow and arrows but Artemis caught him and was angry that he lied to her so she placed a curse on him, making the silver bow and arrows give Ambrogio a burning allergic reaction. Fearing the hunting goddess's wrath Ambrogio apologized and asked to be forgiven. She would only forgive him if he proved his loyalty to her.

Ambrogio promised to prove his trust to her but like all her followers he had to never fall in love or get married like all of her hunters. This meant Ambrogio could never be with Selene ever but he agreed. Artemis decided to turn him into a hunter almost as great as herself. As the goddess of nature she gave him many enhanced abilities almost as great as her abilities. His senses, strength and speed to match many of the abilities that animals have. He was even given fangs and long claws like many animals. Artemis even gave him the power to heal making him better than all of her other hunters. But with all his new powers Ambrogio still looked human. Artemis gave him the power to change just like the gods themselves; the hunting goddess could change into a deer; she gave him the power to transform into a bat making him more like an animal.

Even though Ambrogio was told to never fall in love he still had feelings for Selene. Ambrogio became one of Artemis greatest hunters and because he proved his loyalty to her she gave him her silver bow and arrows allowing Ambrogio to take them to Hades. When Ambrogio returned to the underworld Hades kept his promise and he took Ambrogio's soul, now that he was immortal Ambrogio could finally be with Selene. However he learned a terrible thing when he saw her again he learned that Apollo punished and cursed Selene as well, she was now mortal and was dying.

Ambrogio brought her to Artemis, the nature goddess, who decided to help even though Ambrogio wasn't supposed to be in love. Artemis told him in order to save Selene he had to make her just like him. After becoming a vampire and shedding her mortal form Artemis, then took her to the moon and restored Selene's divinity. But with Ambrogio on earth and Selene on the moon, the two couldn't be together. Because he made a promise to Artemis, Ambrogio never married, he never loved anyone else but Selene. Though he created many more vampires just like himself and Selene.

After biting many people and changing them, Ambrogio and Selene called them their children. Ambrogio uses the venomous saliva that Artemis gave him to save Selene and to turn others into vampires while Selene shines the moonlight down upon their children to watch over them. Ambrogio and Selene's children gained all of the powers of their parents; enhanced strength, senses, speed, the ability to heal, vampiric poisonous saliva, turning into a bat and to have no souls. Another ability that the vampires gained was a virus in their blood that has no effect on vampires but any human that drinks their blood becomes just like them. The other vampires not only gain Ambrogio and Selene's abilities, but also their side effects such as their weakness to sunlight and silver. Because Ambrogio is a walking soulless corpse, most vampires don't have a soul and with Selene being a spirit separated from her dead mortal body other vampires gained the ability to turn what remains of their souls into a form of mist.

Because Selene and Ambrogio could never be together, the titan moon goddess fell in love with other beings. Though she has had other lovers from Endymion to Zeus and a few others, Selene still looks after Ambrogio and all of the vampires.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower: Book 1, Chapter 9

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: Tom sticks his foot in his mouth some? AN: Chicks have survived! We ordered 4, got 5 and they all hatched on V day and have Vday themed names. Chapter 8, Masterlist, Chapter 10 ~~~~~<3 “Let me be clear- I am committed for at least a year or until death. We’re married. I do not take that lightly.” It drove him mad that he had to keep saying it. When would she believe that it was more than just a whim? 

“Tom-”

“Part of being married is the sharing of resources and caring for each other. I care for you and I care for her. You don’t have to care about me- it would be nice but that may come in time.”

“What if you change your mind? What then?” 

Mia felt like screaming. She felt like running. She felt like crying. She felt like reaching out to him for comfort. Instead she sat stone still and board straight. 

“What if I let you find us some magical Las Vegas apartment, get us moved and three months from now you get tired of your secret American family and stop paying the rent?”

“I-” It was her turn to cut him off. 

“You’re right- I can’t afford anything better. I can’t afford food until Monday. If I let you in, let you change our lives and then you change your mind? We end up homeless. Hell, I can only afford this damn apartment because we’ve been there so long.” 

“I wouldn’t-”

“How do I know that? How can I trust that?” Mia’s frustration grew when her vision waved as her eyes grew teary. “You think I don’t want to give you a chance because you’re ugly or cruel or something. Any woman would die for this chance but I can’t. I’ve got a little girl who relies on me.” 

She harshly wiped away a tear that had the nerve to slip from her eye. 

“If I take a gamble and it’s a bust, she gets hurt. She ends up homeless. She ends up in state custody. She gets her heart broken too.” 

“I didn’t think of it that way.” 

She scoffed at him and he bristled at that, opening his mouth to try and defend himself. She started again before he had a chance to say anything though. 

“It’s my job to think of that. How can I trust a stranger, even a stranger I married on a whim, to not let some little girl who he’s known for even less time become homeless. How can I trust that you’re not going to suck her into your charm, make her see you as a father then walk away?”

“I don’t want to push her to see me as a father.” That was the easiest point to focus on first. “If that happens, it happens naturally. I’m not going to pretend that we don’t have a lot of things to decide on, to plan and work out but that will take time.”

Creeping fingers slid a few inches more. He wiggled his finger tips against hers, lacing them together. She didn’t pull away and he took that as a good sign.

 “Tom,”

“If I find an apartment- something modest but without gaps in the doors or maintenance crews that help themselves to tenant’s groceries, if I were to pay the lease up front for the year, would you consider it?”

“This is my life-” People would say she was using him, she knew that as much as she knew her name. 

“No, Mia- not any more.” His voice was soft, devoid of the harshness that had crept in. “It’s our life now. We get to decide what that looks like. We will go over what bills we’ll have, we’ll work together and come up with a plan that makes you feel safe and lets me feel assured that the two of you are safe.”

“I don’t want to use you.” She wanted to accept. 

Glancing at Sally, she knew for her daughter this sort of chance at financial security may never come again. If she allowed Tom to take care of them, even if things didn’t work out she could save her checks. 

“If I’m offering, insisting and fighting you to allow it, is that using me?”

“I’ll think about it, alright?” Mia ran her hand through her hair, scarping her nails along her scalp. “It’s just- It’s a lot, really fast.”

“I know.” 

~~~~~<3

She stood in the kitchen crying. There were boxes scattered in the living room to be taken to the trash later. Tom was upstairs reading who knows how many bedtime stories to Sally.

It felt weird to not be the one putting her to sleep. It felt good to have someone to help with simple tasks like bedtime. 

If she wasn’t careful, she could get used to this.

Realizing the refrigerator and freezer both had been standing open while she cried, for how long was anyone’s guess, she closed it. It was overwhelming, seeing the full shelves. Tom had kept his word, stocking the kitchen in a way she had never been able to do before. 

There were drinks and snacks. Brand new pest proof bins held rice, flour, sugar and dried pastas. A electric kettle sat on her counter and a variety of teas were stacked next to her coffee pot. 

Things for him. Things for her husband. 

“Are you alright?” Tom asked softly from the foot of the stairs. “She’s asleep.” 

Mia couldn’t do anything but nod at first. 

“It’s just a lot.” She said weakly. Everything was hitting her now. Regardless of if she wanted to or not, she was going to have herself a good cry right now.

“Is it?” Tom wasn’t sure what to say as he approached. 

“No one’s ever- I’ve never. We’ve never had this much before.”

Tom moved slow, giving her chance after chance to tell him to back up, to stop, to give her space or go away. Large hands rested on her shoulders as he looked down to her.

 “Does he not provide for his daughter?” That was a question that had been rattling around in his brain since he saw the picture. 

“He’s supposed to pay child support but he hasn’t in over a year. It’s just been me and when Ashley can, she’ll help.”

Slowly, Tom pulled her to his chest. “It’s okay.” He soothed. 

It felt good to be held by him. The moment stretched on as she tried to keep her tears to a minimum. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked as she pulled herself away from him. 

There were things to do and crying in his arms wasn’t something on her schedule. 

~~~~~<3

They sat, cups of tea on the small table in front of them. Tom flipped through apartment listings only to have every single option turned down. Frustration built in him with each apartment, nice and basic, turned down. “Why? They’re all nicer than this place.” 

She sat in silence as he took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t her intention but she was being difficult. 

“I’m sorry.” And she was, to a degree. “It’s just so much.’ 

“I’m just going to pick some and we’ll look.” Tom decided, locking his phone and setting it facedown on the table in front of them. “There’s still a lot to decide. We can put the utilities on auto pay so you don’t-”

“I don’t want you to pay for everything.” It would be better to just shut up and let him pay everything, she knew that. It would allow her to save more for when this inevitably falls apart but she just couldn’t make herself feel okay doing it. “Let me at least keep the electric and internet- the electric will vary during the year and the internet isn’t a necessity.”

“I can send money for groceries-” 

“If I’m not paying rent, groceries shouldn’t be a problem.” 

For the first time in their marriage, they sat and talked into the night. The topics were not fun ones. They talked of financial histories, debts, education and potential future earnings. They talked about the cost of managing their individual households.

Tom wasn’t rich in the realm of his career but compared to her, he was far more financially secure. And unlike her, his career was ramping up and reaching for the sky. Tom swore to her, regardless of what direction his career took, if their attempt at a marriage did not work he would not leave her financially hurt but she struggled still to put faith in him.

~~~~~<3

Midnight quickly approached and Mia’s yawns were coming more and more frequently. They were so different in backgrounds that simply learning about each other’s past ate up more of the night.

“You should go to bed.” Tom’s hand reached out for hers. “It’s been a long day.”

“You’ve been up just as long as me.” Mia countered though she still stood up, slipping her hand out from under his. 

“I need to be up a bit longer yet.” He wanted nothing more than to go up to bed though. “I’ve got to make some calls back home. Face the music and take my licks.” 

“Are you in trouble with someone?” 

“No, not really.” Tom thought twice about his answer after he said it. “Probably but hopefully he’s cooled off by now. My publicist wasn’t so happy with me. I blocked him after breakfast yesterday.”

“He knows about-?” She waved her hand to try and encompass the whole situation.

“Yeah, at least some of it.” 

“I didn’t know you told anyone yet.” It was weird. They had built their relationship, small as it was, in a bubble where in a lot of ways he was just a normal man who was caught up in a Las Vegas situation fit for a Lifetime movie.

“I didn’t.” 

Tom knew he needed to face reality head on. Luke would tell him how important it was to get ahead of the story and now it’s been two days. 

“There are pictures of us at a bar and of me with you in your gown. I don’t know how much the world knows but I did tell Luke about our marriage.” 

“It would be better for you if we didn’t do this.” Mia felt the earth tilting under her feet as what he was inched in again. 

“Maybe, but that’s not something I want to change.” 

Mia had so many questions but she didn’t know how to voice any of them. “Marriage records here are public,” was all she could think to say. 

“That’s not a problem- I was planning on telling the truth. Or at least a version of it.”

“What’s that mean?” 

“I like to keep my private life private. We’ll probably present us as something recent but not same day recent.”

“Should I stay up too?” Mia didn’t know what her role in this would be. 

Tom stood and walked over to where she lingered by the stairs. He was touched at how she had opened up to him, slight though it was. It was there, he could feel it- the little buds that could maybe grow into the roots of a real marriage. 

Reaching out, he took her hand in his. These small acts of affection were easier to accept each time they happened but it was clear they still left her uncomfortable. It still very much felt like pretend to her. Mia struggled to believe he felt anything but duty in them. 

“Go on up to bed. I’ll be up as soon as I get done.” 

~~~~~<3

~~~~~<3

Stand still. 

Stand straight. 

Write slow and careful. 

Be neat. 

Breathe. 

Mia checked and double checked her spelling on the form. She sucked on a breath mint, feeling like she was a teenager again trying not to get caught. If they didn’t pull this part off, the cards would come crashing down.

When she was sure, through the muddy sludge of her alcohol steeped mind, she handed the form to Tom. He filled his portion out just as methodically. Every time he would glance up at her, his concentration was broke by a wide grin. 

He was an old hand at filling out forms. Muscle memory took care of what Mia had spent ages overthinking. 

She followed his lead as they returned to the counter. Identification was handed over and then it was time to wait. They stood stoic and still. Every bone in their body wanted to dance, to move and to be in the moment. 

Toms fingers wove through hers. He placed a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. Softly, he told her things that went in one ear and out the other, lost in the sound of blood rushing. 

“Here’s your packet. Identification is inside it.” The woman behind the counter sounded like she was reading from the dictionary to Mia. 

But not how Tom would sound reading from one. Tom would somehow sound breathtaking reading a dictionary. 

“Congratulations on your upcoming wedding.” 

“Thank you,” Tom said before leaning down and kissing Mia on her cheek. 

They had pulled it off. The woman either didn’t notice or simply didn’t care that the two standing in front of her were not just intoxicated but very intoxicated. This was the one test they had to pass and they did.

“We’re going to get married.” Mia leaned into Tom’s arm as they walked out of the building and into the magical night lights. 

“Let’s go make you Mrs. Hiddleston.” Tom whispered, grin wide was he wrapped his arm around her waist. 

“Let’s go get married.” She smiled up at him, trusting him to guide her safely. 

Tom couldn’t help but glance down at the woman tucked into his side. The flashing lights reflected off her warm brown hair and danced in her eyes. 

He felt something he had never felt before when he looked at her, when she smiled up at him. It could just be the alcohol but he didn’t think so. In his heart, he knew what he felt was a love pure and simple. It was a love he had been chasing and seeking since he had become a man. 

It was a love he needed logic and fear to step aside for him to see clearly. 

Love was waiting for him, he had to just be willing to see it. 

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller, @alexakeyloveloki, @jennyggggrrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @kats72 @soulpiercing

Ps: Sorry not sorry for the blog getting flooded in the next few weeks with baby chicken pictures, occasional dog videos and personal nonsense. Simply put, my pets are fucking cute and need to be seen. But also spring is coming and planting season is quickly approaching.

[esther-dot]

What do you think about Jaime's fate? Is he doomed by a narrative? Is he doomed because of the show? Or does he stand a chance?

Personally I'd like to believe that he would live. As far as I can remember (I could totally be wrong though) the most evil thing he does in the series is the Bran thing. And westerosi karma already held him responsible - he loses his ability to do that one thing that he loves the most and becomes disabled just like Bran. He's not the kindest, bravest, most noble etc person in the westeros but he's far from being evil like ramsey or tywin or cersei. Imho he's way better than fan favourite boy tyrion and not so favourite boy stannis - for a bunch of reasons. I just don't want him to die although chances are, well, questionable.

So how do you see his chances to survive?

Hope you're having a nice - or at least decent - day!

It's lovely weather, and I took a long walk first thing which means, it's a great day in my book. Thank you!

I can't remember what specifically convinced me, but somewhere along the line I accepted that Jaime and Cersei would die together, so I believe D&D got that from Martin. I wrote at the time that Jaime is a better man for returning to his sister/lover/mother of his children than leaving her to die alone, so I didn't share the opinion of the rest of the fandom there. It's really easy to project our feelings about a character onto a different character, and I think that happens a lot with those two.

Anyway, since then, @istumpysk has collected all the book foreshadowing for them to die together (here, a long google doc about it, more here), so I give him no chance of survival.

Ramsay is cartoonishly evil, so I don't think he's particularly interesting. Tyrion is Martin's fav and will likely benefit from that, Stannis is doomed, but Jaime really is an interesting character. My controversial take is that I don't think he's more deserving of a happy ending than Cersei who all the fandom recognizes will die. Yes, this a) reads like foreshadowing for King Bran, and b) also reads like karma:

"Does the sight of my stump distress you so?" Jaime asked. "You ought to be pleased. I've lost the hand I killed the king with. The hand that flung the Stark boy from that tower. The hand I'd slide between my sister's thighs to make her wet." He thrust his stump at her face. "No wonder Renly died, with you guarding him." (ASOS, Jaime V)

but I didn't think Jaime fundamentally changed as a person as far as values go? That's a severe punishment for him, I'm not gonna minimize what it means to him, but I did laugh in the show when he's facing Bran and unapologetic because to me, that's Jaime. Martin writes kid killing as a big no-no. Jaime is pretty cavalier about it:

Jaime got to his feet. "Your wife may whelp before that. You'll want your child, I expect. I'll send him to you when he's born. With a trebuchet." (AFFC, Jaime VI) Ask Edmure how chivalrous I am, thought Jaime. Ask him about the trebuchet. Somehow he did not think the maesters were like to confuse him with Prince Aemon the Dragonknight when they wrote their histories. Still, he felt curiously content. (AFFC, Jaime VII)

Now, I don't think dying with Cersei is necessarily meant to be read as karma for Bran, but I included the above for two reasons.

1.Jaime is a foil to Jon, I believe we're meant to contrast Jon's, morally grey perhaps, attempt to save a child with Jaime's disregard for one, and overall compare what their upbringing, the morals or lack thereof instilled, have formed of these two who had similar dreams, experienced disillusionment, shared the same hero:

They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. "I'm Prince Aemon the Dragonknight," Jon would call out... (ASOS, Jon XII)

2. Jaime and Cersei are a variation on the Aemon and Naerys idea, and the parallels between Jaime and Jon, Sansa and Cersei, point to Jonsa being the positive variation of the old tale. So that expectation, in which Jon will successfully save Sansa from a marriage she doesn't want (hello girl in grey prophecy) and they'll fulfill the maiden/warrior vision that Jaime once had of himself and Cersei, the underlying, uh, preoccupation with and loyalty to their sisters (that Jaime has and Jon will have post reunion) means I'm ok with Jaime deciding his fate is to be with Cersei, in birth, in life, even in death. As I thought it worked in the show, returning to Cersei in the books will likewise mean he is able to have some self-respect. I don't think you can read his, I mean, I would say Cersei obsession and believe he'd ever have any peace of mind if she died alone while he had to go on living. We will get a healthier, happier version of the “brother/sister” (in the Targaryen sense) relationship with Jon/Sansa to complete the convo which is important to keep in mind when bemoaning the fate of certain characters--their endgames are part of a much bigger picture.

I thought this was a great write-up of his character which you might enjoy reading:

But what’s so vital about Jaime is that this is who he is - a bad person, a person willing to kill children to achieve his aims - but it isn’t all he is. And the point of introducing him as a POV is to force us to confront this fact, the fact that this would-be childkiller is also a three-dimensional, even sympathetic man with his own heartaches and struggles, with a sense of humor and a sense of honor and the saved lives of half a million people to his name. The good deeds don’t cancel out the bad, but neither do the bad cancel out the good. And instead of allowing us to take the easy path and categorizing him as either ‘purely evil’ or ‘wholly redeemed,’ the story simply pushes us to dwell within the psyche of this complex, broken man who is neither fully one nor the other. (link)

[beevean]

One thing that always struck me as odd in Castlevania Season 2 that didn't seem to for anyone else: when Dracula removes Isaac from the castle, through the portal mirror thing, to spare him a beatdown from the protagonist trio. This was meant to be a heartfelt moment of Dracula "saving" Isaac (I get the intent), but I always laughed at it because he threw him into the middle of the hot, sandy desert (not even to an oasis), which I recall Isaac expressed contempt for earlier that season. Y'know?

Yeah, it's kind of what @the-crow-binary and I pointed out

Jokes about "returning to his country" aside (although it is kinda funny that it was Dracula's first thought, not the Romanian forests or anything), it might be one of the worst places to dump an unprepared person in the world. I know that Isaac used to live in the desert so he knows how to survive, and he was lucky enough to find a oasis, but he literally was thrown in the desert, in the ass middle of the day, without any shred of resource and with heavy dark clothes that would have realistically killed him of heatstroke. Wow, good job saving your bestie who "has a soul, [you] think".

Also good memory, I forgot about Isaac not liking the desert much:

Hector: You can spend so long in the castle that you can forget how the sun feels. Don't you think? Isaac: I like the castle. The stone stays cool no matter where we are. Hector: You like the cold? Isaac: When I'm cold, I can eat meat or throw a cloak on. I spent my whole life in hot places. You can't escape heat.

ngl this is the most relatable thing he has ever said :V

(I might also have thoughts about Hector expressing appreciation for the sun and how it echoes with Lenore. But yeah, makes sense for a guy who lived by the sea)

You know also the thing? It's obvious that Dracula didn't yeet Isaac to save him, specifically: he wanted to die, and he didn't want Isaac to protect him. "Or perhaps you simply deserve a better fate than to die instead of me." I like that Dracula takes away the choice from Isaac... but I think Isaac should have been wracked with guilt because from his perspective it looked like Dracula didn't trust his capabilities enough. Which is. You know. Something more in line with the games, "my [wounded] body is proof of Your expectations for [Hector]". Maybe, with time, he could have even grown disillusioned with him for this decision, for treating him like a cheap instrument, for only using him when convenient and then discarding him once in the way (tying back to how he didn't welcome Hector and Isaac in his castle until he had a use for them). If his arc was supposed to be him outgrowing his loyalty for Dracula and accepting his worth as a human being, this would have been a much better starting point from his reflections than waking up one day and deciding that you know what, maybe I like killing people for just reasons.