#which is carefu

[fandom-monium]

Sweet Poison - Part 5

Summary: In which you avoid Zagreus, until one day you can't. "What can I say? The life of a demon is a hard one."

WC: 2.4k

TW: Zagreus (Hades Video game) x Succubus!Reader, GN!Reader, a succubus AND an artist bc sex is just work and food, au where in game Zag commissions the paintings using gems, what if boons actually affected Zagreus, slow build, strangers to friends to lovers trope, sex work, fluff, fluff and humor, mutual pining, idiots in love, mild angst, pheromones (technically it’s succubi magic aura), Zagreus is at least 6 ft convince me otherwise, eventual smut, MINOR descriptions of blood and injuries. Physical touch, affection. Just Zagreus being soft and doting and kind to you this chap

Damn her, damn her, damn her, damn—

Teeth clenched, your vision swims as you grip the rim of the basin for balance, washing off the blood as red drops swirl and mix like watercolor paints before the water clears again. It’s days like this where you wish you can get stronger, more powerful, but there’s a limit to everyone’s full potential, and unfortunately you met yours a long time ago.

Still, it’d be nice.

Contrary to popular belief, succubi can be vicious warriors, they’re simply in their own class. Their abilities, their magic, while never measuring up to gods, could ruin an army in a master’s hand, but it has its limits. Especially amongst demonkind.

As the water calms, you grind your teeth at the sight of your reflection, assessing the damage. Blood and darkness, that’s going to bruise, that one’s definitely going to scar, and you curse the universe because your job’s about to get that much harder now that you may have to use a glamor. Oh, you swear next time you get your hands on her, you’ll—

A resounding rumble quakes the room.

Your chamber door.

You curse. But you're sluggish from the blood loss, and before you can hurl yourself out the balcony, Zagreus steps in without his usual greeting, panting and laurels slightly askew, like he rushed in knowing you’re here. Wild eyes dart to every corner of the chamber, as if he half-expects you to be hiding, until they fall on you, embarrassingly hunched over your healing fountain.

One glance at your battered face, he’s beside you in a flash.

"Zag—”

“What happened?” His tone is surprisingly strained as his hands, clean of blood and gore, reach for you. Then something flickers across his face that makes him hover, his eyes—red and green and wide—taking in your new wounds with horror.

If only you had the energy to cower, shield your bruised face. He’s the last person you want to see right now, and your vision blurs, hating how he of all people is seeing you like this—broken, imperfect.

“I’m fine, Zagreus,” You croak, your voice quiet as you swallow your insecurity like bile. A poor attempt to put some distance between you, you try to step aside, but your knees buckle, and before you know it, you crumple like a house of cards.

Of course, Zagreus catches you—asshole—strong, lean arms gentle as he hugs you to his chest, holding you up as if you’re the most precious of gems. Hate how quick you are to relax in his hold, clay in his hands. Blood and darkness, it’s so easy, so quick, so… right.

You squirm against him, but his grip tightens slightly, mindful of your injuries.

“Sure you are,” Zagreus snorts, though he gazes down at you so soft and sweet you want to shout, wondering if he tastes the same. “Come on, I’ll patch you up.”

Unable to protest, you let him carry you like a rag doll, limp in his hands before he gently props you up on the lounge chair. You lean against the back with a groan. “Really, I'm—”

“'Fine', yes, you’ve said that,” Already, he’s rummaging through your cupboards, at least the ones he knows aren’t filled with art supplies. “Do you have bandages?”

“… Second last cabinet on your left.”

Without a word, he walks through your chamber with self assurance, maneuvering around your easel and stepping over splayed out canvas as they finish drying, careful where to leave his burning footprints. He finds what he’s looking for easily enough, a moment later pulling up a chair and plopping down in front of you. His hands are methodical as he lays everything out; two bowls of water, a small cloth, and the saddest little first aid kit.

In your defense, you hardly end up like this.

You watch his hands as he dips the towel in the water then wrings it out, before gently dragging it across your exposed arms. You flinch as he begins wiping off the grime.

“I know,” His tone is soft, terribly understanding as he continues. “Give it a minute, you’ll feel much better soon.”

You want to snort, snap at him that you’re fully aware of how it works, but the cool sting of water, the mild burn from the open gashes and cuts along your skin, is quick to clench your jaw shut. Pain ebbs across your body, and you watch him speechless, the rhythm he follows, painfully gentle as he drags the cloth across your skin, careful not to aggravate your wounds. Clean water, wring out, wipe, rinse, repeat; he even goes out of his way to change the water, and the relief that comes after would make you sink into the couch, if not for Zagreus's silence.

He's yet to say a word since he entered. He'd asked you already, yes, but you take him for someone who doesn't give up that easily. You expected more of a fight. Now, you're not so sure.

"Zagreus, I… I—" It's hoarse, hardly above a whisper, but it's a start.

You feel him pause before choosing to lay into your newfound cowardice like a wet blanket, avoiding his eyes. Who knows what you'll do if you meet his gaze.

Sensing your hesitation, Zagreus clears his throat, "Perhaps you should save your energy. We can chat when you're healed."

You shake your head, though it only makes the room spin. "No, I need to tell you this now. Before..."

"Before what? You start avoiding me again?" He resumes, wrapping gauze around your forearm, his touch ghosting your skin as he holds your arm out. There’s no malice or respite in his tone, soft and withdrawn as it comes, but you wince. If anything, it’s bittersweet, with an acceptance he long held before he approached your chamber, and it leaves your heart clenching. You don't know how to respond. Are you that obvious?

"(Your Name)... did I do something wrong?"

You blink, whirling to face him.

Zagreus bites his lip, emotions he can’t fathom threatening to spill out of him. That's always been his flaw, according to Father. He's attuned to his emotions, more than Nyx, Father, literally any of the chthonic gods. He stares as his hands tremble, attempting to knot the bandage. "Because if I did, please just tell me what it is so I can make things right between us."

"No-no, you've done nothing wrong," You assure him, sitting up through the pain even when Zagreus protests. When he raises a brow at your answer, you rush to add, "I swear! I've been busy with... work." Technically, this isn’t a lie.

"... 'Busy'. Is that how you got these?" Zagreus holds out your mangled arm by your hand, flicking his eyes over your body in the way you hate most. You'd take aura-induced desire over this: pity, disgust.

You wrench your arm away, cradling it in your lap and shrugging. "What can I say? The life of a demon is a hard one."

"(Your Name), who did this?"

You freeze. Nerves go haywire, and you squirm under his piercing gaze, burning through you as you contemplate lying to him, but you know better. At this point, you know each other too well, and—blood and darkness—he'll see right through you. There’s a defeated sigh, then a quiet, "Alecto."

Zagreus's eyes darken, but you wave him off. "Don't worry. In her defense, I kind of deserved it."

Zagreus sputters, taken aback, staring at you as if you offended him. "'Don't worry'? Don't—how can you say that? First I've seen you in days, and you're—" A sharp intake of breath, and he clenches his jaw so hard you're surprised it doesn't break.

"It's not a big deal. I disobeyed direct orders, and..." You trail off, thinking back.

Since meeting Zagreus, seeds of doubt sprout in your chest, in your lungs, suffocating you as you question the system you’ve worked under for so long. You’ve never questioned who you are and what you do, not to say you love your job, but it’s your life. Yet who’s to say there aren't poor souls sentenced to the wrong level? Genuine and kind, noble and passionate—people who don't deserve eternal damnation.

The possibility of your victims being innocent and undeserving makes you want to hurl, tortured shrieks and endless tears flashing across your memory and echoing in your ears. Your stomach clenches just thinking about it.

"(Your Name), I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Zagreus starts, mouth opening and closing like he can't find the words, his breaths coming quick and ragged. He just stares at you, eyes gleaming with an emotion you can't quite place—as if your virtuous act breaks his heart, crushes his soul. Then he blinks, and it's gone, shaking his stupor. “This is my fault…”

You raise an eyebrow, “How is this your fault?”

“I… I just… you shouldn’t have…” You frown as Zagreus struggles, brow furrowed, clearly pained as he thinks over his answer, like whatever he says next determines your fates. Seeming to think better of it, he shakes his head and brings your hand to his lips, and you flush, your heart skipping as his lips graze over the bandages, warmth seeping through the material and into your wounds like a healing salve. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” He rasps between each kiss, trailing up the back of your hand and up your forearm, like they’ll heal the wounds faster. Like this is the best he can do, like this is all he can do. Not that you plan to stop him.

Your face burns, but you let him apologize, though you’re not sure what for as he stops before your shoulder. At some point, he slotted himself between your thighs, and now face to face, he studies your cuts and bruises, already fading away as his eyes, soft and glistening, flick over your features. Like he’s debating if his kisses will help them heal faster too.

Gods, if he brings those lips anywhere near your face, you might combust.

You meet his gaze, “What—”

“I lied.”

It comes as a whisper, his voice dry and low that you tilt your head, urging him to continue.

“I’m not some mortal soul, dredging their way through Tartarus,” Zagreus grinds out, scanning your face as if committing you to memory one last time. Then he sits back and stares at the floor, still gripping your hand as he rubs circles over the bandage. “I mean, it’s true I intend to escape the Underworld.”

“Zagreus—”

“And yes, I’m searching for my mother—”

“Zag—”

“But I’m really—”

“My prince.”

He flinches, his eyes shooting up to meet yours. “What?”

“None of this is your fault, my prince. With or without your influence, I’d have done the same thing anyway.” He gapes at you and you smirk, using the little strength you’ve recovered to squeeze his hand reassuringly, “Or would you rather I address you as Your Highness instead?”

Zagreus shakes his head, black hair flopping out of his shocked face. “I don’t understand. You knew?”

“For a bit now, yes,” You shrug as you turn his hand over, large and calloused in yours, swiping a thumb over one of his healed blisters, probably from gripping his weapons. “Took me a while to figure it out, but I can’t say I was surprised. It explained some of your funny behavior.”

He scoffs, the corners of his lips twitching slightly, “What sort of funny behavior?”

“Pretend all you like, but you can’t suppress those noble habits,” You chuckle, eyes crinkling seeing him cheer up. “All your mannerisms screamed ‘royal’, I just didn’t realize we were talking Underworld royalty.”

“Seriously?” Zagreus gazes at you in disbelief. “I thought I did a pretty good job acting—”

“Like a commoner?”

“Like a mortal,” He shoots you a pointed look, and you snort, relaxing into the love seat.

“You were okay.” You purse your lips, “While we’re on the subject of identity reveals, you should know I’m—”

“A succubus?”

You blink before pouting, snatching your hand away to cross your arms over your chest. “You only say that because I was about to tell you…”

“Not true,” Zagreus grins, leaning over to give your thigh an affectionate squeeze. “I knew from the beginning. Succubi magic doesn't affect gods, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel it.”

“And you still stayed? Knowing what I am and what I do?”

“And you still treated me as any other friend, knowing who I am?”

“That’s not the same, and you know it.”

“I disagree,” He coaxes your hands into his, prompting you to meet his gaze as his expression shifts into something more earnest. “We both tried—and failed miserably—to hide a huge part of ourselves in fear of what we’d think of each other, am I wrong?”

You shake your head.

“Exactly. (Your Name), I hope you know not once did I think any less of you for your work, much less your species.”

You respond in kind, “And not once did I consider bowing down to the Prince of the Underworld, especially not after seeing him stuff his face with wraps he picked off the ground.”

He guffaws. “Good, then we’re in agreement?”

“I guess...”

“Just what every man wants to hear from a beautiful creature.” Ignoring the burn in your cheeks, you roll your eyes, and he adds, “But we’re okay? You won’t avoid me anymore?”

“I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

“Keep that up, you won’t be seeing me for another couple runs.”

“I was agreeing with you!”

“Your tone said otherwise.”

By the time your shared laughter dies down, the atmosphere clears, leaving a comfortable silence settling in the small space between you. In that time, he’s yet to let go of your hands, your thighs brushing as he rubs soothing circles against your hands, and while he insists on staying until he’s sure you’re better, acceptance rushes over you like the oncoming tide, because try as you might, Alecto’s punishment was nothing in comparison to Zagreus’s absence. These fleeting moments he stops by your chamber, whether to recover, commission a painting, or to simply have a chat, you appreciate each and every one of them. If that’s all you’ll ever have with Zagreus, you decide, your chest tight with a melancholic warmth, then that's okay.

This is enough.

—

Soon after Zagreus reluctantly leaves you once more, he enters the last chamber of Tartarus.

“Redblood! What say you—ack—hey, I wasn’t done talking!”

If he prolongs their time together, allowing him to indulge his cruelty, then consider it time well spent.

—

AN: One of my biggest peeves in media tropes is the betrayal and angst as a reaction from hiding identities from s/o, like in superhero media. It's overplayed, overdone.

A good, recent example of this is the new animated Superman show, My Adventures with Superman, where (SPOILERS) Lois forces the truth out of Clark, and is pissed when he confirms he is Superman. Bro, you literally said to his face how you'd reveal his identity to the public, can you blame the guy? Idgaf you think he's lying ab his feelings omfg he's protecting his idenity (its a good show tho pls watch it!!)

However, a cartoon that does the scenario right is in the old Nickelodeon cartoon, Danny Phantom (some of yall may be too young to remember), the older sister, Jaz, of the mc, Danny, quietly realizes he's the superhero of their town, and decides to patiently wait for him to tell her when HE'S READY. Like askjgdaksjhf yassss we love patience and understanding.

Which is why I like to imagine while Zag didn't outright tell you who he is, he didn't try to hide it either. The underworld's a big ass place, he's got no control over who and what ppl say and do, so however you find out, whether in passing or of your own sleuthing skills, you both wait.

Ty for coming to my ted talk :D

[ariseur]

AHHH CONGRATS ON 500 FOLLOWERS IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!! I know I’m so late but I’m here now! Your prompt list is so cute I had to join ♡ Zack with the prompt- “this is my partner, aren’t they beautiful?” You always have the option to skip over this! Remember to take your time, pace yourself, drink lots of water, and EAT YOUR MEALS!!!! Have a wonderful day! (Also this is my first time submitting a request!)

-emotional support anon🫀

zack is referred to as a lot of things. a SOLDIER, a puppy — lots of things, really. but one thing zack loves to be called is your boyfriend.

so when he sees you in nibelheim, perched under the water tower as you talk with the town guide as people gawk at the crew of SOLDIERs and the shinra-wutai war hero sephiroth’s emergence into the small village, he’s ecstatic. his smile only grows brighter as a young girl comes up to greet him and the silver-haired man, all the while, the only sight he can let his eyes rest on was you. the way your legs swing as you sat on the wooden fence bordering the tower.

you haven’t changed since he had last seen you, he smiles at that.

he doesn’t listen much to the town guide after she introduced herself with her name, tifa lockhart — he wonders if you know her. he wonders how you’ve been, how you style your hair now, if anything unnoticeable has changed about you. all he can think about is you, which is why after the guide exclaims that she’ll give them a tour tomorrow morning, his first thought is to go with you.

“you’re awfully focused, zack,” sephiroth playfully chides, making the boy choke back a sound of surprise at the sudden hand on his shoulder. he tips his head up with a confident smile, gazing up the tall SOLDIER who’s face was drowned with shadows as the sun beamed down behind him.

zack gives a hearty chuckle before scratching the back of his neck as he apologizes. “sorry about that, guess i’m still excited about the whole traveling thing.”

“i wouldn’t say it’s that exciting when you’re constantly on business.”

“still,” the darker-haired man huffs as he looks away; he looks away at you. sephiroth quirks a brow before his smile remains placid on his face, ever so slightly twitching with amusement. “are you sure it has nothing to do with that person over there?”

“h—wha-? what person?” his eyes find sephiroth once again as the first class SOLDIER chuckles at his reaction.

zack watched as his superior takes a few steps closer, clearly observing you as well — you’re still on the fence, trying to sneak a few glances at the few SOLDIERs that had tagged along. zack smiles and wonders hopefully if you’re looking for him.

“i take it you know them, then?” sephiroth inquires.

the younger man laughs and shakes his head, although the former knows that he only means it as a way of dismissing his antics. he knows that he knows you, and zack knows that he knows that he knows you; so he can’t help but let his legs move ahead of him as they make their way towards you, sword clanking against the pieces of armor that hug on his body.

he waits for you to notice him, possibly dragging his feet against the soft, brown dirt that covers the village of nibelheim — and his grin only furthers once you turn your head to the dark figure emerging in your peripheral. he blinks away the crystals that glaze over his eyes at the sight of your smile too. he can’t cry when he knows sephiroth’s watching, you know?

but he does envelop you in his arms, tightening around your midriff as he internally promises that he’ll never let you go. his nose stays buried deep in your hair whilst his fingers grip the fabric of your clothes. all those letters, you think back to, all of his promises came true. every letter in the mail you looked forward to and look where you’re at now, zack fair, resting in your arms once again.

but his eyes fly open once he hears a familiar person clearing their throat, a low hum emerging from sephiroth as he eyes you carefully. zack lets go and straightens his posture, keeping his eyes forward rather than lingering on sephiroth.

you look up at the SOLDIER with glassy eyes and try to do the same, putting on a tough face even though he can clearly see your bottom lip quiver a bit at the sudden emotions. however, both of your worries are melted away when the silver-haired man laughs and extends a gloved hand out to you. “it is nice to meet you,” his low voice rumbles — an unspoken affirmation to put his subordinate at ease.

so he does just that. zack grasps your shoulder and looks between you and sephiroth. “ah, this is my partner,” he says. for the first time in what feels like forever, he’s face to face with you, taking in all of the small details that lie in your face, almost like they hold the secrets that’ll only be revealed at the end of the world.

azure eyes flit along the bridge of your nose and the lining of your jaw, seeing the way you nervously swallow at the sight of sephiroth before zack squeezes your arm in assurance.

he grins once more. “aren’t they beautiful?”

𐙚 dottie’s 500 event — 🍡 ( dialogue ) prompts !!

𐙚 taglist ; @ch3rryfiles

𐙚 non-500 requests are closed — august twenty-sixth, 2024

[bebettergoback]

Which Baby Are You?

JANUARY BABY

Pretty/handsome. Loves to dress up. Easily bored. Fussy. Seldom shows emotions. Takes time to recover when hurt. Sensitive. Down-to-Earth. Stubborn. Repost this in 5 mins and you will meet someone new in 8 days that will perfectly balance your personality.

FEBRUARY BABY

Abstract thoughts. Loves reality and abstract. Intelligent and clever. Changing personality. Attractive. Sexiest out of everyone. Temperamental. Quiet, shy and humble. Honest And loyal. Determined to reach goals. Loves freedom. Rebellious when restricted. Loves aggressiveness. Too sensitive and easily hurt. Gets angry really easily but does not show it. Dislikes unnecessary things. Loves making friends but rarely shows it. Horny. Daring and stubborn. Ambitious. Realizing dreams and hopes. Sharp. Loves entertainment and leisure. Romantic on the inside not outside. Superstitious and ludicrous. Spendthrift. Tries to learn to show emotions. Repost this in 5 mins and you will talk to someone new and realize that you are a perfect match.

MARCH BABY

Attractive personality. Sexy. Affectionate Shy and reserved. Secretive. Naturally honest, generous and sympathetic. Loves peace and serenity. Sensitive to others. Great kisser. Easily angered. Trustworthy. Appreciative and returns kindness. Hardly shows emotions. Tends to bottle up feelings. Observant and assesses others. If you repost this in the next 5 mins, you will meet your new love in 8 days.

APRIL BABY

Suave and compromising. Funny and humorous. Stubborn. Very talkative. Calm and cool. Kind and sympathetic. Concerned and detailed. Loyal. Does work well with others. Very confidant. Sensitive. Positive Attitude. Thinking generous. Good memory. Clever and knowledgeable. Loves to look for information. Able to cheer everyone up and/or make them laugh. Able to motivate oneself and others. Understanding. Fun to be around. Outgoing. Hyper. Bubbly personality. Secretive. Boy/girl crazy. Loves sports, music, leisure and traveling. Systematic. Hot but has brains. If you repost this in 5 mins, a cutie that’s caught your eye will introduce themselves and you will realize that you are very much alike in the next 2 days.

MAY BABY

Stubborn and hard-hearted. Strong-willed and highly motivated. Sharp thoughts. Easily angered. Attracts others and loves attention. Deep feelings. Beautiful physically and mentally. Firm Standpoint. Needs no motivation. Shy towards opposite sex. Easily consoled. Systematic (left brain). Loves to dream. Strong clairvoyance. Understanding. Sickness usually in the ear and neck. Good imagination. Good physical. Weak breathing. Loves literature and the arts. Loves traveling. Dislike being at home. Restless. Not having many children. Hardworking. High-spirited. If you repost this in the next 5 minutes, you will become close to someone you do not speak too much in the next 4 days.

JUNE BABY

You’ve got the best personality and are an absolute pleasure to be around. You love to make new friends and be outgoing. You are a great flirt and more than likely have an a very attractive partner. a wicked hottie. It is also more than likely that you have a massive record collection. You have a great choice in films, and may one day become a famous actor/actress yourself - heck, you’ve got the looks for it!!! IN the next 6 days you will meet someone that may possibly become one of your closest friends, if you repost this in 5 minutes.

JULY BABY (Do (a new) Mommy like this,... because it's me.....)

Fun to be with. Secretive. Difficult to fathom and to be understood. Quiet unless excited or tensed. Takes pride in oneself. Has reputation. Easily consoled. Honest. Concerned about people’s feelings. Tactful. Friendly. Approachable. Emotional temperamental and unpredictable. Moody and easily hurt. Witty and sparkly. spazzy at times. Not revengeful. Forgiving but never forgets. dislikes nonsensical and unnecessary things. Guides others physically and mentally. Sensitive and forms impressions carefully. Caring and loving. Treats others equally. Strong sense of sympathy. Wary and sharp. Judges people through observations. Hardworking. No difficulties in studying. Loves to be alone. Always broods about the past and the old friends. Waits for friends. Never looks for friends. Not aggressive unless provoked. Loves to be loved. Easily hurt but takes long to recover. Repost this in the next 5 mins and your reputation will boost someway in the next 12 days

AUGUST BABY

Outgoing personality. takes risks. feeds on attention. No self-control. Kind hearted. Self-confident. Loud and boisterous. VERY revengeful. Easy to get along with and talk to. Has an “every thing’s peachy” attitude. Likes talking and singing. Loves music. Daydreamer. Easily distracted. Hates not being trusted. BIG imagination. Loves to be loved. Hates studying. in need of “that someone”. Longs for freedom. Rebellious when withheld or restricted. Lives by “no pain no gain” caring. Always a suspect. Playful. Mysterious. “charming” or “beautiful” to everyone. stubborn. curious. Independent. Strong willed. A fighter. Repost in 5 mins and you will meet the love of your life sometime next month.

SEPTEMBER BABY

Active and dynamic. Decisive and haste but tends to regret. Attractive and affectionate to oneself. Strong mentality. Loves attention. Diplomatic. Consoling, friendly and solves people’s problems. Brave and fearless. Adventurous. Loving and caring. Suave and generous. Usually you have many friends. Enjoys to make love. Emotional. Stubborn. Hasty. Good memory. Moving, motivates oneself and others. Loves to travel and explore. Sometimes sexy in a way that only their lover can understand. If you do not repost this in the next 5 mins, someone very close to you will become mad at you in the next 8 days.

OCTOBER BABY

Loves to chat. Loves those who love them. Loves to takes things at the center. Inner and physical beauty. Lies but doesn’t pretend. Gets angry often. Treats friends importantly. Brave and fearless. Always making friends. Easily hurt but recovers easily. Daydreamer. Opinionated. Does not care to control emotions. Unpredictable. Extremely smart, but definitely the hottest AND sexiest of them all. repost this in 5 mins or you will not meet the love of your life for 10 years.

NOVEMBER BABY

Trustworthy and loyal. Very passionate and dangerous. Wild at times. Knows how to have fun. Sexy and mysterious. Everyone is drawn towards your inner and outer beauty and independent personality. Playful, but secretive. Very emotional and temperamental sometimes. Meets new people easily and very social in a group. Fearless and independent. Can hold their own. Stands out in a crowd. Essentially very smart. Usually, the greatest men are born in this month. If you ever begin a relationship with someone from this month, hold on to them because their one of a kind. Repost in 5 mins & you will excel in a major event coming up sometime this month.

DECEMBER BABY

This straight-up means you are the most good-looking person possible… Better than all of these other months! Loyal and generous. Patriotic. Competitive in everything. Active in games and interactions. Impatient and hasty. Ambitious. Influential in organizations. Fun to be with. Easy to talk to, though hard to understand. Thinks far with vision, yet complicated to know. Easily influenced by kindness. Polite and soft-spoken. Having lots of ideas. Sensitive. Active mind. Hesitating tends to delay. Choosy and always wants the best. Temperamental. Funny and humorous. Loves to joke. Good debating skills. Has that someone always on his/her mind. Talkative. Daydreamer.Friendly. Knows how to make friends. Abiding. Able to show character. One guy/girl kind of person. Loveable. Easily hurt. Prone to getting colds. Loves music. Pretty/handsome. Loves to dress up. Easily bored. Fussy. Seldom shows emotions. Takes time to recover when hurt. Sensitive.

[m1d-45]

the thoma one, god i love him. what a sweetheart :') but like.......what would happen if we went to the kamisato estate with him. and like. the siblings caught us. would they be on our side or would ayato call for our arrest immediately. would thoma still try to help us once he realized or does his loyalty override that. i am dying to know 👀

silent conclusions

summary: the kamisato estate is welcoming, thoma and ayaka are kind, ayato is… ayato.

word count: exactly 4000. very cool

-> warnings: spoilers for inazuma archon quest, exactly one (1) swear word, ayato is a little shit (affectionate), if your name is maple uh… whoops?

-> lowercase intended!

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @genshin-impacts-me || @5sos-wdw

@yoshikuno and @alexteea asked for part threes- sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged

<<first part || < masterlist >

teleport waypoints, despite being incredibly convenient, take large tolls.

the moment your feet were on solid ground again you reached, latching onto the closest person as your vision swam with vertigo. bile rose in your throat once more, exacerbating your nausea. though you managed to wash out some of the saltwater with the tea—shockingly sweet, from what you remember of green tea—it still soaked your tongue.

two people are talking, voices just out of focus, and the person you grabbed sets their hand over yours.

you’re thankful they give you a moment’s pause, and you take deep breaths. slowly, the stone beneath you is less blinding, and you can see that you’re outside the kamisato estate. the white and purple walls are tall, imposing, two guards stationed in front of the entrance. it looks like light security, but you figure nobody could be bold enough to try anything anyways.

you pull your hand from your support, hoping your gaze show your apology as you look at-

ayato?

he glances at you, eyes flicking over you once before returning to his talk with hisashi.

oh fuck.

thoma appears from your other side and takes you by the arm, walking for the entrance to the estate. “come on, let’s get you inside.”

you follow in a daze, still thrown off by the fact that you grabbed the arm of the yashiro commissioner after teleporting. you’re certain that most people would be knocked off in an instant—or worse—if not by him then by those around. you can’t tell which is more shocking: the fact that he didn’t seem upset afterwards, or that hisashi let you get so close in the first place.

the courtyard is full of life, plants lining the outer edge and the raised patio-like platform in the middle. the various workers around the area stare a little more at you than you’d like, but since thoma is besides you they don’t give you much trouble. the emblem of the kamisatos ripples on the flags they’re printed on, moved by a silent breeze.

the guards in front of the door eye you with more suspicion, and step inwards over the door as you approach, spears crossing in an X. thoma’s steps halt unnaturally, and you can see confusion on his face out of the corner of your eye.

“who is with you, retainer?”

“er…”

right. ayato had directed the conversation at the teahouse to your charges, not to you. you never got a chance to tell your name—not that you would have told the truth, incase history tried to repeat itself.

“the commissioner has employed new help,” he said, wisely keeping back the part where you were being hidden from the shogunate. “i am to show them to their quarters.”

the guard’s eyes narrow further, and you can’t find it in yourself to blame them. you don’t look fit for work by a long shot, let alone for somebody as prestigious as the kamisatos.

“come on souta, when have i ever been untrustworthy? the commissioner himself is just behind us, if you don’t-“

the door behind the guards slid open and they rushed not to block the way, glancing first at each other and then to the open doors.

ayaka is standing in the open doorway, barely-concealed curiosity evident in her eyes. in one hand is a fan that covers the lower half of her face, the carefully painted design matching her eyes.

your mind flashes back to when you were introduced to her, when she was sitting behind a screen and thoma said that that was the traditional way to greet guests, or something similar. sure, you’re less of a guest and more… maybe blackmailed is a little too harsh of a word, perhaps more coerced-

“m- my lady?” thoma steps forward, tugging you behind him, and you can’t tell if it’s meant to be protective towards you or her. “what are you doing out here?”

“indeed, it is rather rare for you to be out. i told you i was bringing home somebody, ayaka.” ayato’s voice once more comes out of nowhere, and you turn to see him and hisashi walking up. the latter looks more tense than you’ve ever seen him, and you don’t blame him. considering ayato gave a… warning..

…wait a minute-

“it’s well past when you said you would return,” ayaka points out, voice far more diplomatic than you’d expect from a conversation between siblings. “is it wrong of me to go for a stroll?”

an odd expression flashes over ayato’s face, but it melts into acceptance quicker than you’d expect. “that is fair. i apologize. negotiations took longer than expected.”

you have to bite your tongue to keep from saying something smart in return. the threat of salt also helps, but not nearly as much as the fear of angering him.

something like a laugh comes from ayaka, but you refrain from turning. even if you’re ‘allowed’ to, it feels polite. also, you really don’t want to upset ayato. after everything he’s done, he feels like the largest threat.

(your mind reminds you of how kind his hand was when it settled over yours outside of the estate. you arrive at the conclusion that ayato is strange.)

“come in, then. hisashi, you are dismissed.”

hisashi bows, then sends a questioning look at ayato. the latter nods, and the former turns neatly on his heel, leaving with barely a sound to his footsteps.

thoma pulls at your hand again and you turn to follow, keeping your eyes on his shoes. you figure it’s better not to snoop or get distracted, and considering thoma’s following ayaka…

ayato’s eyes weigh on your shoulders as you walk.

for the second time today, you’re sat in front of tea you have no intent drinking.

it’s smells a little more flowery, and you think you remember catching the word rose, but that could very well be referring to the flower arrangement in the center of the table.

they’re nice. pale pink, in a soft green vase. they still have their thorns, surprisingly, a detail that distracts you from the conversation happening at the table.

first, ayato filled in ayaka on your conversation at the teahouse. second, ayaka asked for thoma’s recount of how you met. third… third you had zoned out, distracting yourself with the details of rose petals.

“-what do you think?”

you jump slightly at thoma’s voice, the sound closer than before and obviously directed at you. glancing around the table reveals no indication of the former conversation, only two other sets of eyes. soft silver looks with genuine feelings, and pale lavender looks a little too smug for your liking.

the latter picks up his teacup. “we’re assuming you don’t want to reveal your name,” he says, taking a drink. you wish his gaze wasn’t so knowing.

nonetheless, you nod.

“thoma was considering maple, since it’s a pretty neutral name.” wait, what did you just agree to? “it’s not inazuman, but it’s also not anything else either. it’s.. an interesting choice, considering its also the name of a tree common on narukami, but i believe it will hide you nicely.”

oh. that’s better than you thought, considering who it’s coming from.

you give a half-shrug and a nod in response, the pen under your hand not worth picking up for such a simple reply.

“well, maple,” ayaka pauses, but the name doesn’t sound awful, and you let her continue, “thoma can show you around, and you’ll start either tomorrow or the day after, depending on how long it takes you to get used to the place.”

sounds reasonable enough. you nod, and thoma speaks up next, nudging your notepad.

“do you have any preferences for where you’d like to work? i’ll keep you out of anything involving a lot of other people-“ you send him a silent thank you “-but just so i know…”

you pick up the pen and write down your choices, hesitating at the bottom before adding ‘but anything’s fine if you’re there.’ is it cheesy? probably, but he’s the person you’re most comfortable around here. he’s been nothing but open and kind, and doesn’t have a reputation to uphold or an agenda to fulfill.

he reads over the paper when you pass it to him, and a quiet pride comes over you as he flushes a bit at your end comment.

“a- alright then! i’ll show you around today, you can shadow me tomorrow, and the day after we can finalize things. sound good?”

you nod, and neither of the kamisato siblings have anything to add either, both silently showing their approval.

you feel yourself smile.

thoma’s work is surprisingly simple.

not that it was easy, of course, because what else would you expect working for a third of inazuma’s government, but it’s… shockingly simple.

he’d warned you the night before that you’d need to wake early, but he wasn’t angry when you didn’t wake up on time. he seemed upset, almost, regret lacing his words as he tugged you out of bed. even as you delayed him further by struggling with the uniform—the nightclothes were easy enough, but this one had so many folds and ties that you got lost embarrassingly quickly—he wasn’t upset. he just led you to the kitchens, where he explained every step of how the lord and lady liked their teas.

ayato prefers black tea, he says, carefully measuring out loose leaves. he takes it with no sugar, and as hot as it can be.

ayaka has been trying new teas from liyue, he mumbles, voice quieter than he intends to be as he stirs in honey. she’s quite fond of dragon’s well, but anything from there will do. feel free to experiment, just be sure it’s not too sweet.

he shows you their respective offices, and you wince at the amount of paperwork on both of their desks. they both greet you with a smile, but you can see how tired they are. absently, you wonder if that same exhaustion is why ayato likes black tea.

thoma’s interactions with them are short, and you waste no time in following him to his next task.

the day passes by easily, thoma’s easy conversation—despite your hoarse voice—easing the load of the work. floors are swept and shelves are dusted, and when he quizzes you on their tea preferences at dinnertime you get it right on the first try.

he beams from his post at the stovetop, bright green eyes shining in the same way dew does on grass. you feel your own smile form in response, and he makes you sit and wait while he delivers dinner—yes, to their offices—no matter how much you protest. he returns swiftly, pulling over a pot that you didn’t realize wasn’t empty and ladling out two bowls of soup.

he slides one over to you, and together you share dinner.

the next day is much the same, as is the next, and the next, and you slowly fall into a routine.

you wake up, the knots on the uniform more familiar than they were at the start, a simple way to start a simple morning. you tidy yourself up and meet thoma on the way to the kitchens, chatting about a dream you had the night before or a diplomat that had arrived yesterday for a meeting. water bubbles and you share a breakfast, the two of you preparing tea side by side.

today you decide to make ayaka a new king of oolong tea that had just come in a few days prior. after all the various security screenings, you could finally make it!

thoma encourages you to take the large platter this time, and you comply, however nervous. you’re watching it more than you are the hallway, making sure that nothing spills, and it pays off when you make it to ayaka’s office without incident.

she looks up with a smile as you come in, and you flash one of your own as you set down the large plate.

“good morning, lady ayaka.”

“good morning, maple. how did you sleep?”

you eye the bags under her eyes as you push over her teacup. “i should be asking you that, my lady.”

she chuckles, picking up the cup for a smell. “this doesn’t seem familiar.. what kind of tea is this?”

thoma looks to you from where he’s sorting out a stack of scrolls, and you recite the information off the box.

“it’s tieguanyin, also known as iron goddess, and is a type of liyuen oolong. it seemed sweet by the smell, so i didn’t put much honey in.”

her smile turns sweeter, an oddly genuine happiness taking you by surprise. “thank you.”

there’s a weight to her words, some other information tucked between the lines that you can’t reach. with a smile and a nod, you pick up your tray.

ayato’s office is strangely far from his sisters, something that confused you the first day and still does now. the only difference is that now you’re familiar with the sprawling layout of the estate, and you can take the right turn without missing it.

he’s much more tired, evident by the delay between when he sees you and speaks.

“maple, thoma. good morning.”

your hand paused over his teacup. ayaka… she hadn’t greeted thoma, had she?

you’re fairly certain there’s an implication there, something that ties into the heaviness of her voice when she thanked you, but you don’t have time to think it over. thoma nudges your side and you snap out of your thoughts, moving ayato’s tea and breakfast off the tray.

“is something wrong?”

you shake your head. “no. something.. caught my attention. i apologize, my lord.”

he picked up the cup with a grin, “oh? i do hope you’re not trying to pry into any yashiro documents.”

you shake your head and he drinks, but thoma catches your arm as you turn to leave. his lips part, something worried shining in his eyes, but ayato cuts him off.

“what is this?”

oh no.

ayato’s black tea was easy to brew, tea wise, and with thoma watching over your shoulder you had assumed it wasn’t burnt.

the housekeeper seems just as confused, the both of you turning back to ayato’s desk. he’s staring at the tea in his cup thankfully not with disdain, but certainly with confusion.

“it’s wakoucha, my lord,” you say. “no sugar. hot as can be.”

“is it a new kind?”

“it’s from the same box as yesterday’s, and all of last week’s.”

he looks to thoma, who nods. “the only difference is that maple brewed it.”

ayato’s eyes flick between the tea, thoma, and you, still not accusatory, for which you’re grateful. you’re not sure you could hide from poisoning the yashiro commissioner as easily as you could hide in liyue.

“…here.”

the cup is passed to thoma, who hesitates before trying some. he’s easier to read than ayato—most anybody is—and you can pick out the emotions in his eyes clearer. shock, delight, and then a careful sort of confusion.

“it’s very strong, though the flavor is perfectly intact… even without sugar, it’s still sweet.” you don’t know enough about tea to discern what that means. “but how? i was watching you the whole time…”

you’re tempted to say something stupid—‘well, i hear that nightshade can be pretty sweet’—but wisely hold your tongue, watching the cup return back to ayato’s hands. he stares at the rim of it for a moment, then a flicker of a smile crosses his face.

“well done,” is all he says, and after another sip, the cup is set down in favor of his pen, the prior conversation dissolving back into the air with nothing more than a glance. “and if you two are planning on going to the city today, do stay away from the docks.”

“are the tenryou receiving a shipment?”

“nothing of the sort, thoma, what do you mean? what reason would i have for directing you away from them?” ayato looks up from his paper, some stupid little scheme glinting in his eyes. “i’ve just received news from the shuumatsuban that the imposter is likely in the area.”

you can’t help the way your shoulders tighten, the office suddenly seeming smaller. though you had admitted as little as you could about why you were hiding from the shogunate, you had never brought up their accusations on this front. intentionally, too, because you knew that no matter how kind anybody could be, religion was a heavy topic in teyvat, inazuma especially.

and when you were staring down a man that held loyalty in high standard, it was wise not to admit such a thing.

the corner of ayato’s lips twitch into a smile. “do be careful, maple. i’d hate for you to get caught up in another incident.”

you cling closer to thoma’s side than you normally would when you two go into the city, your hand linked with his as he speaks with the various vendors. you’re not sure why you two are even in ritou, honestly, but didn’t bother with asking questions.

he’s speaking with a kanjou officer, which he’d addressed by name, oddly, and you’re standing behind him, looking around the city. the maple trees are a pretty pink for spring, making the island look a lot kinder. sure, the outlander affairs agency likely still has the area in a chokehold, and sure it’s run by a literal puppet government, but something could be said about its beauty.

“what do you think about lunch?” thoma asks, and you look back in alarm only to see the kanjou officer long gone, his eyes focused on you.

ah.

“we’re gonna be out for most of the day, and there’s a little food stall here that i like. granted, we could eat at shimura’s…”

you shake your head, “here’s fine, thanks.”

he brightens, pulling you along once more. “great! ryouko makes the best dry-braised fish, or she has fried tofu in a miso broth, if you’d rather?”

you make and tell him your choice, and he nods as you walk down sets of stairs, making note of it. people wave at you two as you pass, and though it’s mostly at thoma, you do see some smiles directed at you. probably just because you’re with him, though.

thoma leads you to the left of the main courtyard, taking you down another small set of stairs. it’s… familiar, the tree behind the sidewalk reminding you of something you can’t pin.

“hello ryouko!”

“hello, and welcome! care to have some specialty snacks?”

you keep a hand on his as you look around, letting him order for you. the food stall was backed against a wall, in a tucked away corner, near the port… if you turned so that you faced the staircase, it clicked.

this was where you met thoma. it was months later, at a wildly different time of day, and you were in a much better place… but you were back here. back when he held your hand much as he did now, in a drastically different context but for much of the same reasons.

guidance. security. promise.

comfort.

“first time in the city?”

you turned to the close voice, jumping slightly when you see the owner. maroon hair shadows grassy eyes, ones that seem to pick you apart—much like ayato, but a lot less subtle. the blue of an anemo vision shines behind the baton of a doushin, and you can feel your heart stop as you face down the best detective in inazuma.

you tug on thoma’s hand and he turns as well, apparently recognizing him. “doushin shikanoin? what are you doing out here?”

heizou crosses his arms with a heavy sigh, some of the tension in the air fading as his eyes fall to the floor. “on ritou, a failed mission. here in particular… well, ryouko’s one of the only in inazuma that makes a good katsu sandwich, and i’m in the market for a pick-me-up.”

“really? what happened? do you want eat with us and talk about it?”

“no no, please. there’s no need to interrupt your little excursion on behalf of little ol’ me.”

what is it with inazuman men with blue visions that makes them adore implying things most would rather say aloud?

“well we’ve got time while our food’s being made, don’t we?”

“mmm…” one of heizou’s hands comes up to his jaw as he thinks, tapping a steady beat. “i suppose i can tell you. after all, it was your boss that tipped me off.”

oh no. who could have ever seen that coming.

“ay- ah, i mean the commissioner?”

“indeed. you see, he’s been using his connections to keep the tenryou updated as best as he can, something any detective would appreciate, even if sometimes the information can be a bit lackluster. recently, he’s gotten a tip that the imposter was planning to leave inazuma tonight through ritou’s port, and madam sara sent me out to check it out. i, of course, looked over his evidence prior to coming, and though it was a little shaky, it’s the best lead we’ve had so far. i even heard from some fishermen that they saw somebody shady boarding a merchant boat, but… no dice.”

thoma’s grip on your hand adjusts, and he squeezes once. you don’t have much time to think it over. “i’m sorry to hear it. i can promise that we’re putting all of our effort into solving the situation as best as we can, and i regret letting them slip from our grasp.”

his voice lacks the usual depth behind it, like… like it’s rehearsed, almost. like he was prepared for this.

heizou’s eyes flick to you, jade green seeming to cut into your soul. “oh, naturally. this is such a pity, don’t you agree?”

subtext laces his words, and you’re left floating in the pause between his sentences. even as it stretches, his mouth slips up in a suppressed grin.

“after all, weren’t you the one who told him?”

you blink.

you didn’t do that. you didn’t tell ayato anything, you never even left the estate unless thoma—or, on occasion, ayaka—was by your side. you never had time to collect information, and you certainly didn’t give it to ayato- didn’t he say that the shuumatsuban gave it to him? didn’t he…

’i’ve just received news from the shuumatsuban that the imposter is likely in the area.’

’he’s been using his connections to keep the tenryou updated as best as he can, something any detective would appreciate…’

‘after all, weren’t you the one who told him?‘

you can see when heizou notices that you get it, the sharp light to his knowing gaze. he rests his chin in his hand and passes you a cheeky wink, one that makes you laugh.

kamisato ayato.

what did you expect?

[autistook]

DAISIES - pt 5

Merry Brandybuck x fem!hobbit!reader / soft oc

Words: 3.3k

Summary: Merry encourages you to try and face your fears. You two grow closer, but it seems like he is hiding something from you, along with your friends.

Content warnings: alcohol, small anxiety attack

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

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Something was missing. Maybe it was the sharp edges of the fox's tail that were bothering you?

You used your thumb to smudge the fur around a little, spreading the charcoal around the paper, making the tail puffier and more realistic looking. You looked at the paws of the fox, squinting your eyes at the small mistakes you had made. You were scared of ruining the whole picture, so instead you kept your attention mainly on the tail, your tongue slightly sticking out between your lips as you concentrated.

After making the finishing touches, you took a small step back to observe the finished product.

"That looks good," said Merry suddenly behind you, making your heart jump to your throat. 

"Merry!" you gasped, startled. "You scared me! Where did you come from?"

"I actually watched you make it for the last five minutes," he confessed, snickering. "You were quite focused, and I didn't want to bother you."

"I really did not hear you come in at all," you said, heart still beating fast from the sudden appearence of your friend. You took the pile of the faintly yellow papers you had tied onto a wooden board on your paint covered easel, and placed them on your desk.

"Whats this?" asked Merry, taking the third drawing from the pile. 

Merry was looking at the charcoal sketches. There were sparks in his eyes. He was visibly impressed. 

Two of the sketches he kept admiring more than the others. One of them was quite a detailed drawing of his hand. The other drawing was a sketch of his side profile, the curls framing his face and his gaze on the horizon. A faint smile you had drawn on his face, and the collar of his shirt was a little unkept, as it usually tended to be.

"I've been feeling very inspired today," you said, fiddling with the lace of your corset. Merry noticed your sign of anxiety, and a small smile appeared on his face. He knew you were very picky and self concious about your own art.

"Its very impressive," he said, adoring your art work, wondering how you managed to draw him with such accuracy. "Is my collar always that unkept?" he asked as he observed the picture, immediately fixing the collar on the shirt he was wearing.

"Most of the time," you snickered, to which Merry responded by trying to fix his shirt a little more. You shook your head, and stepped closer to him. "Let me fix that," you said, your hands on his cotton collar now. Merry inhaled deeply.

"Thank you," he said as you fixed his shirt.

"Its not always bad if you're a little unkept," you smiled, tapping on his now straightened up collars. "It makes you look less formal and serious. It makes you more, well, Merry."

Merry smiled at you softly and cleared his throat as he took one small step back to put a little bit of space between you two.

"You have some charcoal there," he smirked, tapping his cheek. You wiped your cheek softly with the back of your hand.

"Did I get it?" you asked, making Merry snort.

"Not exactly," he said and took a red handkerchief from his pocket. He cupped your left cheek with his hand, and with the other he slowly cleaned off the charcoal you had just spread accidentally. "There you go," he said, looking at you with a soft expression before letting go of your face.

"What are you doing here anyway?" you asked Merry, wiping your hands on your dress.

"I wanted to see you," he responded, his expression slightly nervous. "I was thinking… I know how you feel about being challenged, and I… Well, I have a challenge for you."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

Merry took a deep breath. He didn't know what drove him to think his plan was a good one, but he was confident about it.

"I think we should go to the Bywater pool," he suggested carefully. "And maybe test out walking in the more shallow water."

Your heart started beating fast, and your breath hitched. 

"Merry," you said, immediately fidgeting with your fingers and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

"I am not going to force you to do it," he said. "But I am going to challenge you to do it. And there's no need to be nervous. We can go just ankle deep, and I will be there every step of the way."

"I don't know, Merry. Why would I?" you said with a loud gulp and your body tensing up more. He took your hand and held it tightly, stroking your thumb with his in a calming manner.

"I know you can do it," he said, but then a mischevous smile took shape on his face. "Or maybe you can't. Maybe I overestimated you."

And with that, he stuck a nerve. He overestimated you? Absolutely not. 

"I can do it," you said in a serious manner, pulling your hand back to your side. You immediately started stomping out of your bedroom with determination. 

Merry smiled to himself, and followed your fast paced and confident walking all the way outside of Bag End, and towards Bywater.

The closer you got to the Bywater pool, the more nervous you got, your anxiety growing with every step you took. Your breathing was slightly shallow, but you kept trying to steady it. Your heart was beating fast and it felt uneven. Your thoughts were unkept and bouncing from one scary thought to another.

You stopped. Merry made his way next to you. You took a deep, shaky breath.

The water was reflecting the bright blue sky, and the pond stood absolutely still. On the more shallow end was a rock bottom, and in the middle of the pond, you knew there was mud underneath the surface. It scared you. You feared it might swallow you whole.

Merry squeezed your hand to support you, and gave you a soft nudge.

"You can do this," he reassured.

Your heart was beating faster and faster. You were hesitating, even though the urge to prove you could indeed go in the water was strong. You fiddled with your corset again, trying to gather up the courage to walk in there, and go at least ankle deep into the cold water. 

Merry took a deep breath after a while, and squeezed your hand more tightly.

"I'm sorry," he said. You immediately turned your face sharply in his direction. "I believe in you, and I'm sorry for what I am about to do."

And with that, Merry put his arms around your waist tightly and picked you up, your upper body resting on his shoulder.

"Merry!" you cried. "What are you doing?"

Merry rushed the both of you into the pond with a tight grip on your waist, as you kicked your feet in the air. 

"I know you can do this," he said, now ankle deep in the water. 

"No, I can't! Put me down!"

"That's the plan," he responded, lifting you so that you faced him. Your chests were pressed together and your nose almost touched his. "I am going to put you down now."

"No!" you said, shaking your head vigorously. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest, and Merry could feel it against him. 

"Trust me," he said, looking you deep in your eyes. There was confidence in his eyes as he kept reassuring you, your faces just inches apart. "I'll put you down slowly. There's nothing to worry about. I'm right here. All you need to do is breathe." 

You took a deep breath. His reassuring and confident gaze made you slightly more relaxed. After all, he did know you better than anyone else. You gave him a small nod, your fingers trembling.

Slowly he began to lower you, and your arms immediately clung around his neck. You were shaking, but your breathing was getting more steady in his comforting embrace.

Inch by inch, he lowered your body towards the water, not breaking eye contact, giving you a reassuring look.

Your toes hit the cold water, making you shut your eyes tightly. 

"Its alright," he said calmly, lowering you until your feet hit the bottom. His arms slowly started to move off your waist. He decided to keep his palms softly on your middle, making sure you can stand steady. "See? You're doing it."

You opened your eyes and looked at your feet. There they were, under the water which was looking magical now that the sunlight made it sparkle so beautifully. It was probably shiny before, but you didn't notice it until now. You curled your toes, getting some rough sand and tiny rocks between them. Your heartbeat regulated, and your breath was balanced again.

"I did it," you whispered in shock. Your eyes widened and a radiant smile formed on your lips. "I did it!"

"Yes, you did." 

You jumped into his arms, your arms wrapping around his neck. A loud giggle left your mouth, and your ears softly fluttered from joy. The water splashed loudly as you hopped off Merry's embrace. You waded around a little, enjoying the feeling of the wet sand and cold bottom of the pond under your feet. The feeling of accomplishment overwhelmed you with joy.

"Thank you!" you giggled, enthusiastic about what felt like the most courageous act you had ever done.

"Next time we can go knee deep," Merry said.

"Hold your horses, Meriadoc!" you responded, pointing your finger at him. "This was already terrifying and a huge step. Lets just enjoy this for now."

Merry chuckled and put his hands in his pockets, kicking his feet around the water, splashing water around in small doses.

"I felt like it was time to try and beat at least a small fraction of your fears," he said warmly. "I strongly believe that you can eventually get over this fear."

"Maybe," you responded, your eyes fixated on the water and shiny with excitement.

You were amazed by how calming the water felt when you weren't completely buried in it. The cool splashes when you walked around felt ticklish but relaxing, and the waves that formed by the kicking of Merry's feet were captivating. The reflection of the sky felt like you walked into a dream, and the sparkle of the sunlight reminded you of the expensive glittering of jewelry.

The following day, you walked to the Green Dragon on your own. It was a rainy day, and you had been feeling a little blue. It was very quiet at home, as Gandalf was wandering outside with Frodo in the grey weather. The Green Dragon felt like a good chance to get some fresh air, with the hope of possibly meeting some friends there. 

You entered the Green Dragon, your curls dripping with water and your coat soaked from the downpour.

To your surprise, you saw almost all of your friends there, already sitting together.

By a small booth in a dark corner, were Samwise, Pippin, Merry and to your surprise, Fatty Bolger. It was a surprise indeed, as you were under the impression that Fatty was still holding a grudge against Merry for breaking the heart of Estella, his beloved little sister.

Pippin noticed you first, and gestured towards your direction. You smiled at them, and made your way to their table. 

"Hullo," Pippin said, smiling softly to you. Everyone else was quiet, and shifting in their seats.

"Am I interrupting something?" you asked after a moment of awkwardness. Their silence made you feel uncomfortable, yet curious.

"Not at all," answered Fredegar. His dark hair was unkept, and his vest old, a small hole on the front of it. "I was just about to leave."

"Alright," you said quietly, and Fredegar got up in one swift movement. He was suspiciously quick with his feet, and before he exited the Green Dragon, he gave a meaningful look to the rest of the group. "What was that about?" you asked.

"It was nothing," said Pippin, as he patted the spot next to him as a gesture for you to sit down.

"We were just discussing something private," Merry responded, to which Sam reacted by elbowing him softly. Merry looked at him, furrowing his brows. 

"Private matters that concern only Fatty, he means," said Samwise. 

You couldn't help but feel like your friend was lying straight to your face. You looked at Pippin and Merry. Both of them nodded in unison, confirming Sam's explanation to you. Yet, your gut was telling you it was not the whole truth.

"Is there something I should know?" you asked.

Merry shifted his gaze to Pippin, clearly looking for guidance on how to respond to your questioning. 

"It's like he said," Merry responded. "It was just something that Fatty wants to keep private."

"Is he no longer angry at you?" you asked Merry, making him shift in his chair again. "About Estella, I mean?"

"No, not at all."

You looked at all of them, one by one. You took note of little irregularities in their body languages. 

Sam was furrowing his brows more than normal, and his fingers were tapping the sides of his pint. Merry was shifting his position ever so slightly whenever you looked at him, whilst Pippin was looking at you with an overexaggerated grin. They were lying.

"Well, that's good!" you finally responded. You took a long sip of your drink. You could see everyone at the table relax a little, as they thought they had convinced you that nothing was out of the ordinary. 

You all sat there in silence for a few uncomfortable minutes, until Sam opened his mouth in a long sigh.

"Well, I should get going," he said, getting up slowly. "I have some more work to do in Bag End."

"I thought you finished your work early today?" you said, giving him a questioning look. Sam scratched his head.

"Well, yes. But mister Frodo asked me to plant a few tulips near the entrance."

You looked at Sam, not blinking. He stared at you, his face flushed.

"Sam? It’s pouring rain," you said, trying to pull the truth out of your friend.

"Well, I should be going now," he said with a gentle smile. "I'll see you later, miss."

Samwise made his way out of the Green Dragon, and as your attention was at Sam, Pippin was smirking at Merry. You turned around only when you heard Merry smack Pippin on his shoulder.

"Well, I also need to be somewhere," Pippin said, bouncing over Merry and getting out of the booth.

"You too?" you said, now even more suspicious.

"Yes, I have places to be," Pippin said, taking his damp coat off the empty chair next to you.

"Where? What places?" you asked firmly, but with the same soft tone you always used when you tried to reel the truth out of Peregrin.

"Places," Pippin said and looked at Merry and you. He smiled wide. "Have fun," he continued. He walked away and left you two alone. 

Merry glanced at you, and then shifted his gaze to his half finished drink. He was brushing his fingers around the small cracks on the handle of the wooden pint he was holding.

"Merry," you said in a low, quiet voice, trying to make eye contact with him. "What was all that really about?"

Merry huffed and looked up from his pint, still not directly at you.

"It's like they said," Merry responded, his eyes scanning around the room. "Just some personal stuff of Fatty's."

"I think you're lying," you said, firmly but gently. He still wouldn't look at you. "But if you don't want to talk about it, I understand. I guess I'm just concerned that I have done something wrong.

Merry finally looked at you, bewildered.

"Why would you have done something wrong?" he inquired. You shrug your shoulders, and he smiled compassionately. "You haven't done anything wrong. It's just a private matter, that's all. Nothing for you to worry about. I promise."

You kept analyzing the changes in his posture, the way he worded things and even the way he looked at you. You were still sure that all of them were hiding something, but you decided to trust his word. 

"Are you in a rush to leave too?" you asked, immediately sneezing afterwards. You were uncomfortable and shivering from being so drenched from the downpour outside.

"You're shivering!" Merry said, concerned, moving closer to you in the booth. He took his dry coat off and wrapped it around you. 

"Thank you," you sniffled. Merry tried to warm you up by rubbing his hand on your back over the coat. "You didn't answer my question."

"I'm not going anywhere," he said warmly. "If you want to spend time with me, that is."

You smiled and leaned your head against his shoulder, making him shudder a little. You furrowed your brows a little as it was odd, but you deducted it must've been from the wet hair that hit his skin.

"Can I... I've been meaning to talk to you about something for a few weeks now," Merry suddenly said. Your head was still resting on his shoulder as you answered him.

"What's on your mind?" you asked softly.

A silence followed, as Merry was struggling to find a way to ask you something of delicate matter. Finally he cleared his throat.

"Have you ever felt different?" he asked.

"What?" you chuckled, puzzled. "What do you mean by that?"

Merry took a deep breath and huffed, trying to gather his composure and to find a better way to express his thoughts.

"Have you ever suddenly felt different about something?" he asked, his voice quiet. He took pauses between every sentence, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words. "Have you ever started to notice new things about something? Like you were always used to it being a certain way, but now suddenly it's just different?”

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him, confused.

"I still don't quite know what you mean."

Merry let out a sigh, leaning back a little for a more comfortable position.

"Have you ever looked at something differently, and thought to yourself: was this here all along and I just never noticed it?" he said. "And it felt natural. Almost like that thing was supposed to be that way all along, but it just took you some time to notice? That it took time to start seeing it differently?"

You thought about his words for a moment.

"I suppose," you finally said. Merry looked at you, analyzing your expression as you responded. You thought about his question a little more, and Merry's mood seemed to grow a little nervous. "My favorite book was that way. As a book it was alright, I thought. Then after reading it for a second time, I noticed how much I actually enjoyed reading it. Is that what you meant?"

Merry's lips pouted a little, his brows furrowed in what seemed like disappointment, and he sighed loudly. He finished his beer, again no longer looking your way.

"Almost, but no. That is not what I meant," he said quietly.

"Then what did you mean?" you asked, now even more confused. Merry shook his head, his expression anxious.

"It was nothing important. Just something stupid I've been thinking about. I'm going to get another ale."

Merry got up and took his empty pint with him. He walked to the counter, and his spirit seemed to have shrunk. As he got to the counter and sat down on one of the high chairs set in front of the bar, he glanced at you quickly over his shoulder, before turning away.

NEXT CHAPTER

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

@chatteringfox @shiinata-library @ahobbitsjourney23

[psychospore]

Long Ride

I have time to whip up a smutty fic before heading to work. Please do enjoy - I will edit this once I get a hold of my laptop.

If you like Loki or Adam OLLA fic, feel free to check out my Masterlist

Summary: You and Loki are bound for a long journey - the best way to counter the boredom? Fuck, of course.

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, casual sex

"This is too much! Do you think it's too much? I honestly think this is too much" you mumbled as you approach Loki. While Loki stood staring at how beautiful you were in that Emerald dress Frigga gifted you, you were shifting uncomfortably the whole time as you drew closer. The dress accented all your nice features, cinching your waist and pushing up your breasts. Features that you normally hide when you don your regular clothing.

Despite being noble-born, you loathed all efforts to be perfectly prim and proper - that includes wearing fancy dresses. That didn't stop your family from forcing you to learn it though This time though, it's different. You will be sent as an envoy along with Loki to Alfheim to discuss diplomatic relationships with their king.

Odin and Frigga decided it would be best to have you tag along because other than your ethereal beauty, you are a capable fighter and an even better strategist. You are also Loki's closest friend (and all of Asgard except you know how you could minimize Loki's mischief because of his ever-growing interest in you)

"Y/N, you look exquisite. It would be a shame to hide your beauty from the world," a selfish part of him was indeed wishing to hide you away from the ravenous looks of men around you. He offered his hand to guide you as you alight the grand carriage.

" Please, isn't there any other way? We could ride horses on the way there and I can just change once we're near," you pouted as you slump your bum to the soft cushion underneath.

" I'm afraid that would not be possible, y/n. Please bear with it. It's a long journey and we will need all our energy" he sighed as he tried to reassure you, slowly closing the door of the carriage.

The ride went on for a few hours and despite your occasional conversation with Loki, you got a bit bored and a bit horny too. Loki noticed your devilish grin at him. "I am not sure if I like that grin on you" he spoke.

"I am bored and I am horny - the least you could do for me now is unbutton your trousers" your statement caused Loki to get an erection which you immediately noticed.

He looked bewildered but he unbuckled his pants, revealing a throbbing cock underneath. Your eyes grew wide in amazement. You've known Loki for ages but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine him having such a gargantuan member.

He lightly stroked himself in front of you, palming his dick as he spread his thighs. You kneeled in front of him, taking over using both of your hands as you lick the underside of his dick causing him to moan in pleasure. Your hands continued at a slow and steady pace as your tongue flicked and licked, lapping the precum leaking from the tip. You stifled a gag as you guided his member into your mouth, slowly burrowing deeper until you were balls deep. Loki grabs a fistful of your hair to guide you in and out as he bucks his hips, feeling the walls of your throat and mouth clenching. His grip tightened and his voice groaned as he shoots loads of cum directly which you swallowed without any traces left. He was chasing his breath but he knew he had to return the favor.

He grips your hips up so you could straddle him, your legs spreading from either side of his thighs. He pulls your dress down to reveal plump breasts which he hungrily suckled and grope, making you moan in ecstasy in his ear. With one hand, he hiked your skirt up so he could reach your warm mound. With one hand supporting your back, and his mouth leaving love marks on your breasts, he started exploring your nether regions with his free hand. Rubbing lazy circles on your nub as fluid starts to pool underneath. He carefully inserted and thrust his digits inside you which reached all the sweet spots inside, making your body shudder as you reached the high of your orgasm.

With a still-hard cock, he guides it directly into your wet folds. His eyes rolled back from the sweet sensation of entering for warm and tight pussy. Your head was resting on the crook of his neck, your warm breath grazing his skin. He wanted to take it slow so you could adjust to his size but a large bump on the road made sure that didn't happen - he glided straight down inside of you making you wince in both pain and pleasure. His warm, labored breaths were evident as your lips and tongues danced against each other in a lust-filled haze. Without breaking contact, he hastened his thrust inside you making you cum once more, flooding his cock inside you and excess leaking out, creating squelching sounds as he continues to rut inside you. He held you tightly as your walls clasped his cock, making him release loads of his seed inside you. You slumped on top of him from exhaustion, your arms still outstretched around his neck as he planted small kisses on your warm flesh.

"How's that for a ride, darling?" he asked.

"Much much better" you responded, panting.

"We still have a long journey ahead. I guess you know what that means"

"So much for saving energy. Fuck me whenever you feel like it, Loki" you whispered before drifting to sleep.

[orgaslink]

43, Wild and Twilight!

43 was "we'll get through this" kisses and I also had an anon ask for 23 which was "calming kisses" both for Wildlight, so I've combined the two. I'm not so happy with how this turned out, but I've been looking at it for days now and it's not getting any better. Still, hope you like what I came up with, even if I don't. 😅

CW: Wild having a panic attack, flashbacks that could be PTSD

Terror crept up his spine and sheer dread pooled in his stomach only to climb the ladder of his ribs to grip his heart in it's ice cold grip. He couldn’t stop the shaking even if he was aware of it. And Wild very much wasn’t aware of much beyond the fear that engulfed him and the booming sounds of violence overhead.

Thunder rumbled as if the Goddesses themselves were waging war in the sky, lightning so frequent it may as well have been daylight for all anyone knew. Yet in the clouded haze of Wild’s mind, he’s back there, where it all ended in agony and in blood.

It wasn’t thunder that Wild heard, but the booming explosions of Guardian beams aimed at him and the kingdom he was meant to protect. Lasers lit up the sky and even the mechanical sound of marching, spindly legs can’t drown out the sounds of carnage and destructive terror the machines bore down onto Hyrule.

Twilight found him huddled between two beds in the stable they sought shelter at, Wild’s white knuckled grip grabbing his own hair so tight Twilight was scared he’d actually pull it out at the root. Wild’s eyes may have been open, but it was clear for anyone to see that he wasn’t there with them, not in the present.

Gesturing nosy guests away, Twilight asked the stablemaster to bring privacy screens over while one of the stable hands encouraged other patrons to the other side of the stable to leave the two in peace. Once privacy (as much as could be) was gained, Twilight was carefu to approach a rocking Wild.

“WIld-?” Twilight’s voice kept low as to not startle his friend. Although a gentle soul, Wild wasn’t in the mindset to be accountable for his actions right now, and if his mind was where Twilight suspected it was, then he needed to tread carefully for both their sakes.

After a moment of no recognition from the younger hero, Twilight tries again, this time adding a gentle judge of his foot into Wild’s bent leg to gauge his reaction, it was a technique he’d learned back in Ordon to ensure he wasn’t about to be charged by an injured goat. When he’s met with a weak whimper, Twilight’s heart broke all over again for his friend.

“Oh, Wildflower…”

Twilight somehow managed to wedge himself in the small gap that Wild had found in his panic to escape the monsters in his mind; a lull in the storm allowing enough cognition to return to Wild for him to realise that Twilight was a friend and was there to help him so Wild did the only thing he can in that moment, and gripped Twilight for dear life.

Wrapping his arms tightly around Wild, Twilight cupped Wild’s head in one hand, encouraging Wild to rest his head on his shoulder while his own work calloused hand covers Wild’s ear to try and block out the worst of the storm.

“It’s okay, Wild. I’m here. It’s just a thunderstorm, everyone is safe and the guardians are long gone.”

There’s a rigidity beneath Wild’s skin with the indecision of whether to choose fight or flight, but with no visible enemy to fight, Twilight fears that Wild may bolt in his confusion. He needs to find a counterpoint for Wild to latch onto, something to keep him grounded and in the present.

Another loud clap of thunder has Wild set to panic, tension coils in his body as if deciding that moment was when Wild needed to act, to do something, anything to protect a kingdom so dependent on his success.

The motion is halted when Twilight pulled Wild onto his lap, gentle kisses placed to his hairline as he’s faced away from the stable entrance to shield him from the view of the lightning; one ear cushioned against Twilight’s collar and the other being gently held by his partner. “Shh, now. Just listen to my heart and my voice, can you do that for me?”

Kisses like raindrops litter every inch of Wild’s face that Twilight can reach, gentle words and soft hums filled the space around them as the storm raged on both outside the stable and in Wild’s heart.

They stayed like that, with Twilight holding Wild close and safe, all the while placing calming kisses and promises of safety and love into Wild’s skin in the hope they will penetrate his very soul.

For Twilight would do everything in his power to make sure Wild never has to endure pain and destruction like he had before; he’d even fight Hylia herself if it came to it.

“We’ll get through this, Wild. We’ll get through it together, you and I”.

[yennefer-x-tissaia]

Yennaia bits in ep 3.04

We start off the ep with Yen debasing herself in front of...the Council? Idk. Triss, Sabrina and Rita are there and they definitely weren’t on the council before. But they lost people at Sodden so it might be for all we know.

She’s talking about throwing a party organising a conclave to unite the mages of the North and she starts we-ing.

(The subtitles are wrong - some other dude asks ‘Who is ‘we’?’)

And of course we know who ‘we’ is.

The rest of them are like ‘no shit’.

Yen then goes on to apologise and beg forgiveness.

And she does a bit more quoting from self-help books, which amuses Tissaia.

The Council(?) are won over and everyone bashes their hands on the arms of their chairs and a party it is!

Sabrina and Rita are tasked with hand writing the invitations (surely mages can just magic these things up?? Seems a lot of effort. But it’s fun imagining them bitching about this low level job they’ve been given while Tissaia and Yen swan about and giggle together.

Tissaia compliments Yen on her political acumen.

Yen’s like ‘It’s just being a selfish arsehole in a different way, of course I’m good at it.’.

Tissaia sees through this overly sincere politician talk and tells Yen she can drop the act now and it’s actually delightful to see Yennefer relax into herself.

They laugh and grasp at each other and it’s genuinely lovely for them to have this moment together.

Then Yennefer notices Tissaia’s new jewellery and somehow knows ‘this is new’ despite not having seen Tissaia since a month after Sodden.

We get another close up on the bracelet of doom, so we definitely know it’s going to go off in the third act.

I wish this laughter was because they both knew he was a dick and that they were playing him. Alas, we have to conclude that Yen is thrilled that Tissaia is getting some from her new daddy.

However, it gives us this moment of herlooking at Tissaia with unadulterated affection, so I will take it.

Tissaia makes a comment that we can all relate to.

Yes, Tissaia, we all are. And we get some exposition about Philippa and Tissaia being close, despite this never having been mentioned or alluded to before.

Tissaia looks at Yen’s chest sad and wistful.

Yen is probably wondering why Tissaia has all these grudges with other mages and Yen herself gets forgiven instantly for everything. She makes a joke to lighten the mood and Tissaia is amused again.

(Then there’s a bit with Triss about the novices going missing that I’m trying to repress because unless Tissaia’s under some sort of mind control, then her flippancy about girls going missing is infuriating.)

As with the conversation about Yen coming home, Vilgefortz takes part in another scene that only emphasises how much Yennefer means to Tissaia. He challenges Yennefer’s presence at Aretuza and she’s cheeky about it.

But she changes her tune when he brings up Tissaia.

Yen is clearly sincere in her reactions to what he’s saying about her impact on Tissaia.

(Of course it’s infuriating that we know he’s the one with the agenda and is going to hurt Tissaia, but nice to see Yen get to hear this stuff.)

Yen couldn’t lie to Tissaia if she tried 🥺

“I know you to your core. Your pain my pain.” 🥺😭

When I first watched this, I wondered if we were going to get an inkling that Yen might be suspicious of Vilgefortz in return, and tell him that if he hurts Tissaia, she’ll make Sodden look like a back garden barbecue on a wet weekend. But she seems to have been taken in as badly as Tissaia.

God that one hurts.

Sigh.

Very true, Vilgefortz. We all wanted her to be an arsehole to you. It’s far more comforting.

Anyway, Yen goes to visit Tissaia’s ex Philippa to invite her to the party.

On her return, her portal goes weird and she is attacked and ends up on the floor of the Council room, where Triss and Sabrina find her.

Yen: on the floor, panting and bleeding Sabrina:

(That’s not Yennaia related at all, I just heart Sabrina so much)

Anyway, Triss implies that Yennefer should be careful who she trusts and that bringing Ciri to Aretuza isn’t a good idea.

Probably because Tissaia’s been acting like a pod person around her and also told Vilgefortz stuff last season that she wasn’t supposed to. But Yen takes it the wrong way and storms out. 

And we see them all get ready for the party, and that’s the end.

[lemoncrushh]

Too Far From Texas | Chapter Nineteen

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 6679

“Stacey…”

Go away, I thought.

“Stacey,” the voice repeated.

No. Go away. You can’t hurt me anymore. I’m with Harry. I’m...happy.

“Wake up, my love.”

My eyelids blinked as I realized two things - the voice was coming from the man next to me as he made the bed shift in order to scoot closer, and I’d just admitted to myself that I was happy, even if in my dreams.

“Harry?”

“Yeah, baby,” he whispered, nudging my jaw with his nose. He kissed my neck gently as he ran his palm down my stomach, hitching the hem of my sweater. “Are you gonna sleep all day?”

I turned to him with a yawn, his big green eyes gazing at me in question.

“I made some lunch, are you hungry?”

“What time is it?”

“Nearly two. I let you sleep. You looked too happy to wake up.”

Happy. I smiled at him, rolling over to cuddle against him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep so long. This bed is pretty amazing.”

“Just wait til tonight,” he teased, the corner of his mouth curling up.

I poked him in the side, making him jump. “Harold.”

“You don’t have to keep calling me that,” he remarked. “It was cute for a minute.”

I laughed, burying my face in his armpit which not surprisingly smelled good and was kind of a turn-on. I heard him chuckle as his hand traveled down my hip and he squeezed my ass.

“What’d you make?” I asked.

“Nothing much. Just a salad and some sandwiches. Shall I bring them up here, or would you like to eat downstairs and watch a movie?”

“Movie sounds great,” I grinned.

Harry slid off the bed, reaching his hand out to me. I took it and gave him a kiss.

“Gotta go to the ladies’ room,” I said, “but I’ll meet you downstairs in ten.”

“Make it five,” he growled, kissing me deeper.

“Fine, five,” I agreed with a sigh as I pulled my hand from his grip.

I freshened up in the bathroom, my eyes still heavy from sleep, but somehow they seemed to have a different hue, as though they glowed from within. With a bounce in my step, I took the stairs, stopping at the sofa where Harry had two plates ready for us.

“Ooh wine with lunch,” I drooled as Harry came around the corner with two glasses of burgundy vino.

“It’ll give us a head-start,” he shrugged.

I giggled, taking my glass from his hand and clinking it against his.

We watched a film from the 90s that I’d seen but barely remembered. Harry had never seen it, so mostly I just enjoyed watching him.

I wasn’t sure what had shifted during my nap, but I no longer felt that emptiness, that hollow of doubt and uncertainty. Not that it was gone by any means. It still dangled in the back of my mind. But I didn’t feel the need to dwell on it. I was enjoying the here and now, my time with the man I loved and who loved me back. I was happy.

Harry caught me looking at him after we’d finished eating, our empty plates and glasses on the coffee table. At first, he saw me out of the corner of his eye as he watched a scene unfold on the screen. I liked the way his lips rested upon each other when he wasn’t speaking or eating. I liked the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks when he blinked. And I liked the way his eyebrow arched when he’d caught me staring.

“Wha-?” he asked with a smirk.

I definitely liked the smirk. His dimple made its mouth-watering appearance on his left cheek and I found myself holding back from reaching out and touching it.

I grinned widely at him before lifting my leg on the couch, resting my arm on my knee.

“Nothing,” I lied.

Harry pretended to return his attention to the movie, but it was apparent my gaze was keeping him from doing so. With a sigh, he tilted his head and turned to face me.

“What?” he asked again, with determination.

I giggled, covering my mouth with the back of my fist. I merely shook my head as the mischievous twinkle in my eyes gave me away.

“Stacey Barnett, what is on your mind?” he smirked again, scooting closer to me and grabbing my socked foot.

“Nothing,” I protested with not much force as Harry began to tickle me. “Careful there sugar, I kick.”

My warning meant little to him, however, as he pushed me back onto the sofa. His weight pressed against me and I did nothing to resist.

“Sorry,” I said as I gazed up into his eyes. “I’m not really into the movie.”

“I can see that.”

“I like watching you more.”

With heavy eyelids and a sexy grin, Harry lowered his face to where it was less than an inch from mine.

“Is that what you were doing?” he murmured, his nose grazing my cheek.

“Mmm hmm.”

His breath blew across my ear before I felt his lips touch my neck. I tilted my head back to give him easier access as I felt my toes curl.

“You’re very nice to look at,” I commented.

Harry hummed against my skin as his fingertips found the hem of my sweater. I copied his movements, tugging on his t-shirt.

“And to touch,” I added as my hands traveled up his torso.

Lifting his upper body, Harry hovered over me, his lips already swollen. His lower body pressed firmly against mine, causing my thighs to open wider and I let out a sigh.

“Harry…” I whispered.

He nodded. “Yeah?”

“I’m crazy, madly in love with you.”

Harry beamed at me, lowering himself onto his elbows on either side of my head. His fingers threaded through my hair as his eyes sparkled.

“Me too, baby,” he said. “Me too.”

He kissed me tenderly, his moist lips fitting perfectly with mine. I whined against his mouth when I couldn’t lift his shirt any further. He chuckled and sat up briefly, tugging it over his head and shoulders, dropping it on the floor. I smiled when my fingertips reconnected with his flesh, raking up his chest and back down again to the waistband of his jeans.

“Where’s the condom?” I asked as my hand roamed further down.

Harry raised a brow. “Really?”

“Mmm,” I half nodded and shrugged. “Why not? I can put it on.”

“I just...reckoned you’d wanna...save it for later.”

“Why, do you only have one left?” I nearly gasped in worry.

“No,” Harry chuckled. “I meant...the sex.”

“I meant the condom.”

Harry laughed harder before kissing me again and resting his forehead against mine, his chest shaking and making my breasts bounce. It only made me giggle too and I held him tighter.

“I guess I ruined the moment,” he murmured.

“Never,” I remarked.

“No?” Harry lifted his head to look at me, that sexy look returned to his face.

“Well...that all depends,” I teased, grazing my palm across the tiny space between us. I licked my bottom lip when I found what I was looking for. Harry groaned and blinked slowly.

“‘s in my back pocket,” he said low.

With a nod, I reached around him and quickly retrieved it. When I began to unbutton his jeans, however, I stopped.

“Unless…” I looked up at him, his eyelids already heavy with the anticipation of sex, “you’d rather have my mouth.”

His chest dropped as he let out a heavy, yet shaky breath. “Oh God, Stacey.”

“Your choice,” I offered.

He shook his head in disbelief, raking his hand down his face. “Fuck me.”

I knew it was a mere expletive and not a request, but I pretended to take it as one.

“Okay,” I said as I eagerly continued my mission to remove his pants.

I’d just gotten them past his hips when he grabbed my wrists. I stared at him with wide eyes. I thought for a second he was going to stop me, but instead he aimed the remote at the television and stopped the movie that I hadn’t even noticed was still playing. Then he looped his thumbs through the waistband of his Calvin Klein underwear and assisted me.

Seeing him sitting on the couch completely naked made my mouth water, so I decided I would take a detour and kneel in front of him. But this time Harry did stop me, or at least he reached for me before I had the chance.

“C’mere baby,” he insisted, his voice hoarse. He eyed the condom in my hand. “Don’t put it on jus’ yet.”

I grinned at him and bit my lip knowingly.

“You decided you want my mouth first?”

“No, I wanna touch you.”

“Oh.”

Not that I was disappointed by any means. I loved when he touched me. I just wanted him to know it was not a prerequisite.

I scooted closer to him, allowing him to take my waist and guide me to his lap. His hands slid up inside my sweater as I swung my leg over him. His touch only heightened my senses even more and I felt my need grow stronger. The warmth between my legs began to throb as I pushed against his crotch, a tiny moan escaping my throat.

I lifted my arms to help him remove my tunic, letting it fall behind me onto the floor. He cupped my breasts and squeezed them hard before unhooking my bra in the front and lowering his mouth to my newly bare skin.

My breaths quickened as I arched my back, hastily removing my bra completely and grinding against him. Sensing the urgency, Harry slipped his hand down my stomach and into my leggings.

“Oh my God,” he growled when I felt his fingers slide across my slit. “You’re so wet, baby.”

“Mmhmm,” I nodded, biting my lip. “Doesn’t take much, sugar. Just looking at you makes me wet.”

“Then why’d we wait so long?” he asked, his hands pushing down my pants. I rose myself to my knees before standing up completely and peeling them off.

“‘Cause I thought maybe you enjoyed the anticipation,” I teased. “Plus, I was thinking of letting you fuck my mouth first.”

I had just knelt down on one knee when Harry grabbed my hand and pulled me back up.

“No. Nuh uh.”

“No?” I half pouted.

Harry licked his lips. “Not when I know you’re this wet.”

He was good. As much as I was enjoying teasing him, he was much better at this game. Sexy as fuck, I would call it. I grinned at him, taking in his gorgeous naked body on the sofa, and nodded. Then seductively swiping my tongue across my top lip, I returned to my position on his lap.

I kissed him hard and deep, my fingers tangling in his curls. He kissed me back the same, his tongue reminding me how wet I was below. Then as if he heard my thoughts, his hand touched me where I needed to be touched, where I ached for a release before we really even got started. I moaned against his mouth, my hips chasing the urge as I grabbed his cock to guide it inside me.

“Baby,” he protested. “The condom.”

“Oh! Yeah.”

My temporary loss of reason was gone with a shake of my head as I opened the package and rolled the condom on. Both of us groaned in pleasure as I slid down his erection easily, my wetness doing the trick.

I rode him slowly at first as I stared at his face. He blinked slowly and gulped before allowing his jaw to relax, his lips open slightly. His hands grabbed my waist, but not too firmly, still giving me the reins. My hands rested on his shoulders until I slid one up his neck and into his hair. I felt his breath on my face as I leaned forward, our lips almost touching.

“Does it feel good?” I whispered.

Harry shut his eyes softly and nodded.

“Tell me.”

He licked his lips and grinned before opening his eyes. “So good,” he declared.

“You like me riding you?” I asked as I picked up my pace.

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, gripping my waist tighter. “Pussy’s so wet. You’re dripping on me, baby.”

“Mmm I like when you talk dirty.”

“Yeah? Good, ‘cause I’m about to get filthy.”

I moaned a giggle, his sexy chuckle vibrating through my body. I felt his fingertips dig into my hips as he bucked against me, making me call out.

“That’s it, baby. You ride m’cock so good.”

“You’re so deep,” I gasped. “And so hard.”

“Yeah you love it, don’t you?”

I gripped the back of the sofa as I bit my lip and moaned.

“Fuck me, Stacey.”

I cried out as my legs nearly gave out, feeling myself close to orgasm. Although I hadn’t expected to reach my peak my soon, I knew it was no wonder with how turned on I was. And he felt so good inside me.

“Yeah, come all over me, baby. Then make your man come.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, falling forward, my face against his neck. “Oh, honey, I’m so close.”

“I know, baby,” he cooed in my ear. “I can feel it. I could probably touch your clit right now and make you scream.”

I lifted my head then to look at his face. It was glowing with slight perspiration, his eyes full of fire. As he raised a brow, his fingers made their way across my stomach. I inhaled quickly, but it wasn’t enough to prepare me for his touch. As soon as his thumb met my clit, I fucked him harder and faster, my orgasm exploding throughout my body. My fingernails left an impression on the sofa as I continued to grip it with all of my might.

“Ah, Jesus, Stacey,” Harry moaned.

He’d released his thumb from my clit, but I was still riding him. Hard. Fast. Chasing another orgasm. Or perhaps it was the same one. I couldn’t seem to stop. It felt too good.

“Oh God!” he cried, throwing his head back.

“Right there?” I asked in a whisper.

“Yeah, just like that. Oh, baby. Oh God, don’t stop.”

“I love fucking you, Harry.”

“Oh fuck yes. Make me come.”

I gladly obliged. With just a couple more thrusts, he dug his fingers into my flesh and let out a guttural moan. I slowed to a stop when his chest dropped, and he let out a sigh followed by a chuckle.

“Fuck, baby.”

His head still resting on the back of the couch, I kissed his exposed neck up his cheek where his dimple lay.

“Too much?” I whispered coyly.

Harry chuckled low. “Too much of what?”

“Me. What I was doing.”

Harry shook his head and sat up, wrapping his arms around me. “No such thing. But I don’t reckon I’ve seen you that…” he paused.

“Slutty?”

“I was gonna say uninhibited…”

I grinned at him and kissed his nose. “You liked it though?”

“Mmmm,” he sounded kissing me back on the mouth. “I like everything you wanna give me.” His lips trailed down to my neck as his hands roamed up my sides. “And I love to make you come.”

“Me too.”

We showered together, careful not to get stirred up again as Harry insisted once again that he was cooking dinner. It was nice, very intimate and sweet. After more kissing on the bed, Harry finally got up and pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt to go downstairs and prepare our Christmas meal.

“Can I at least be with you?” I asked him “Just sit on the counter and drink wine?”

“Okay. But not yet. I want some of it to be a surprise.”

I stuck out my bottom lip in a pout. Harry rolled his eyes and leaned forward to kiss me.

“Come down in a wee bit, yeah?”

“What is a wee bit?” I inquired.

“Um, twenty minutes?”

“Fine,” I scoffed, crossing my arms.

“Stubborn thing, you are.”

I couldn’t help but giggle as I heard him descend the stairs. I rolled over onto my side, my towel from the shower still wrapped around me, the smell of the body wash Harry and I’d shared filling the air.

An overwhelming feeling hit me suddenly, nearly knocking the wind out of me. It was something I’d known all along but had kept in the back of my mind. I hadn’t wanted to face it yet, but the time was coming sooner than I was ready for it to.

I was going to miss him.

In less than twenty-four hours I would be on a plane back to the states. Back to Texas and my little three-bedroom apartment. Back to my kids whom I undoubtedly missed by being here, but it was a different kind of longing from what I knew I was going to feel once I set foot on American ground. I was going to be leaving the love of my life. The one person I felt something for that I’d never known I could feel and may never feel again. I would be leaving with a big question mark, too, as we hadn’t yet discussed what would be coming next. I only knew I loved him, and he loved me. But what then? Harry would be going on tour soon, and I surely couldn’t afford to be flying to be with him every time I wanted to see him. Which I knew would be always. We both had lives to lead.

I let myself cry a little bit. Not a big, ugly cry. But I allowed the tears to flow freely as I thought of how lonely I’d be in my own bed without him. Surely it was the same loneliness I’d felt before, right? No. This wouldn’t be the loneliness I experienced when I had no one to care for, or to care for me. This would be a pure yearning for someone I’d had the joy of sharing my time with, my heart with, my body with.

I was going to miss him so much.

Suddenly, I heard something coming from downstairs. A faint melody, though familiar. I smiled when I imagined Harry in the kitchen singing along to Christmas songs.

Wiping my eyes, I rose from the bed and walked to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. Then leaving my towel on the rod, I rummaged through my suitcase for a comfy pair of joggers and a v-neck. Underneath my shirt were two wrapped packages - my presents for Harry. Tying my hair back in a loose bun, I grabbed them both and I followed the sound of Dean Martin’s voice to the living room. Harry had lit a fire and it crackled in the fireplace next to the gorgeous, glowing tree. Quietly and with precision, I laid the two gifts underneath the tree. I eyed the sofa where we’d made love just an hour or so ago, and blushed. Biting my thumb nail, I tiptoed to the kitchen doorway.

“Has it been a wee bit yet?” I called.

Harry let out a boyish laugh. “Yes, you can come in.”

“Smells good already,” I smiled when I stepped inside and leaned against the counter. “Whatcha cookin’?”

“Nope,” Harry shook his head and pointed the knife he was using to slice vegetables at me. “You’re not making me ruin the surprise.” His eyes traveled down. “Even if you do have nice cleavage.”

Blushing again, I looked down at my chest. Sure enough, my boobs were on display in my low-cut v-neck, especially with my leaning forward.

“What surprise?” I asked, straightening up and tucking myself back in. “You don’t think I could guess from the aroma?”

Harry cocked a brow. “What does it smell like, then?”

I lifted my nose dramatically and sniffed the air. “Kinda smells like turkey.”

“Not turkey.”

“Didn’t think so. That takes all day.”

“Then why did you guess it?” Harry scoffed.

“I didn’t smarty-pants. I just said it smells kinda like it.”

“Uh huh.”

I watched him continue slicing the vegetables with a smirk on his face. I simultaneously wanted to slap it off and kiss him.

“I thought you said there’d be wine,” I remarked.

“I didn’t, you did.”

“Touche. Do we have any?”

Harry chuckled. “Of course, love. I’m giving you a hard time. It’s over here.”

He pointed to the counter behind him where he’d already opened a bottle of wine and had two glasses laid out. I walked around him, letting my hand graze his behind and gave it a squeeze.

“Watch it,” he warned. “I have a knife in my hand.”

I gleefully poured the wine and handed him a glass. With a grin, he set down the knife and took it.

“Merry Christmas, Harry,” I said softly before taking a sip.

His eyes met mine over our glasses and then traveled down again. Setting his glass on the counter, he took mine and did the same, pulling me to him.

“I can genuinely see through this shirt,” he declared.

I laughed out loud. “So?”

“So, it’s nice. Especially with nothing under it.”

“Well we did just have sex, and shared a shower...a wee bit ago. I figured it was safe to go braless.”

“Always,” he purred before kissing my skin just above my cleavage.

“Harry…” I whispered when his lips moved up my neck.

“Hmm?”

I hesitated for a moment before saying, “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Stop. Shhh.”

“Don’t we need to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” He continued to nuzzle my ear.

“Us. You and me.”

Harry stopped his kisses then and stood up straight. “I thought we already did.”

“Yes, but-”

“Hey!” Harry stopped me with this finger on my lips. “‘Member? No buts. Only ands.”

“Oh my God, I’m gonna miss you!” I cried, throwing my arms around him.

“Aw baby,” he murmured in my ear. “Shh, Stacey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“Is it?” I whined against his chest.

“Of course. I’ll miss you too. Like mad. But I love you.”

“You just said but.”

Harry chuckled as he rubbed my back. “Darling. Look at me.”

When I did, he wiped my tears, his own eyes full of sincerity. “We love each other, yeah?”

I nodded.

“We’ll make it work. We’ll be together even when we’re apart.”

“‘kay,” I whispered.

Smiling gently, Harry guided me to the counter where he lifted me up and sat me upon it.

“I have a plan,” he said as he took the vegetables from the cutting board and dropped them into the skillet. “Another little surprise I was gonna save for later. But I think it might put your mind at ease for now.”

“Does it involve food?” I asked slyly.

“No,” he giggled. “I’m having a party.”

“Party?”

“In L.A. Sort of a kickoff for my tour. And I really want you to be there.”

“You do?” I gasped. “But...won’t there be…”

“Other people there?” he smirked. “Yes. And I want them all to meet you.”

I sucked in my lips and held my hand over my heart in disbelief. He wanted everyone to meet me? Me?

“It’s the first weekend in March. I’ve already set up arrangements for you,” he explained.

“Arrangements? As in...my flight and hotel and…”

“Well, you’re flight, yes. Not hotel. I want you to stay with me.”

“You do?” I sighed.

Another smirk threatened the corner of his mouth again as he stirred the vegetables. “Well, I...didn’t want to be presumptuous. But I reckon we’re kind of past that now.”

I beamed at him as I tugged on his t-shirt, pulling him to me so he stood between my legs.

“I love you,” I declared, running my hands up his arms. “You really want everyone to know about me?”

“I want them to know you’re mine,” he nodded. “And that I’m in love with you. But anything you want or don’t want them to know about you is up to you. And if it makes you more comfortable, I’ll get you a hotel room.”

“No,” I shook my head, “I wanna stay with you.”

Just as I leaned forward to kiss his lips, a timer sounded, making Harry jump. I watched him as he opened the oven door slightly, just enough to peek inside but not enough for me to see.

“Is it ready?” I inquired with determination.

“Not yet. But it is time for you to go get in that red dress.”

The music continued to play downstairs as I stepped into my dress and applied my makeup in front of the mirror. This time I let my hair down, letting the curls fall naturally around my face and across my shoulders. Slipping into my shoes, I suddenly felt nerves kicking in as though I was going on a date. I supposed in a way it was. I was just putting on my earrings when I heard his voice behind me.

“My Christmas angel.”

I turned and smiled at him.

“So beautiful,” he declared softly.

I giggled as I watched him step closer to me. He reminded me of an old cartoon cat who fancied the girl cat, heart eyes and all. Slipping his arms around my waist, he pulled me to him. His nostrils flared as he inhaled my perfume. Leaning closer, his lips almost touched my newly painted red ones before he stopped.

“Don’t wanna mess that up,” he said.

Grinning, I ran my hands up his arms. “Are we eating up here again?”

“No. Got the dining table all set. Just let me change.”

“Should I wait down there?”

Harry shook his head. “I’ll just be a minute. We can walk down together.”

I sat in the chair in the corner of the room as I watched him undress. As though that wasn’t arousing enough, he then laid out his fresh clothes on the bed. I felt a giddiness bubble inside me as he stepped into clean underwear and slacks. I watched him slip his tattooed arms into the sleeves of a crisp white shirt and begin to button it.

“My God, you’re gorgeous!” I exclaimed. It had tumbled from my lips, and I caught myself, covering my mouth.

Harry side-eyed me with a lopsided grin as he slipped into a black jacket. After stepping into his shoes, he made his way to the bathroom where I heard the water run for a minute followed by the spray of cologne. My mouth began to water, and not from the anticipation of food.

“Ready?” he asked when he emerged, standing in the doorway.

Rising from the chair, I walked to him slowly but eagerly.

“Let’s go, handsome,” I said, taking his arm.

Lifting his hand to my neck, he kissed me tenderly on the cheek. Then he led me down the stairs as Sinatra sang about J-I-N-G-L-E bells. I noticed the lights in the living room were out, only the glow of the fire and the tree illuminating the area. But when Harry and I turned the corner into the dining room, I gasped.

It looked like a Norman Rockwell painting, or a photo from Better Homes and Gardens - the perfect image of a holiday dinner table. I wondered where Harry had gotten everything, but then remembered we were at a B&B and it was likely that everything he needed was already there.

“This is stunning, Harry,” I announced in a loud whisper.

I noticed then that he had the chair at the end of the table held out for me. I sat down with a smile, placing the cloth napkin in my lap. Harry poured us both a glass of wine and we toasted to us again.

The dinner began with a lovely salad, full of various greens, fruits and nuts, topped with a balsamic vinegar dressing. It was so delicious, I almost felt like I could have just eaten it for dinner, but I knew more was to come.

Harry brought out risotto next, which filled my taste buds with more savoriness than I could have anticipated. He was really a great cook, and I told him so.

I couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped my throat however, when I saw the covered silver platter in the center of the table.

“So do I get to know the surprise now?” I asked like an impatient child.

Harry chuckled low as he reached for the lid, but held his hand there for a moment, no doubt antagonizing me. “During one of my many conversations with your friend Lorelei, I discovered that you are not a picky eater.”

I laughed out loud and nodded. “This is true.”

“I also learned however, that if given the choice, you never go for the traditional meal.”

“Also true.”

“So I knew turkey was out. Too traditional for you. Especially seeing as you’d just celebrated Thanksgiving with a turkey. And Lorelei informed me you weren’t a big fan of ham, and to be honest, neither am I. Then I thought perhaps chicken was the way to go, but I vetoed that. Too generic and common for someone with such exotic taste buds as yourself.”

“You’re very wise, Harold,” I teased, though he was right on the money.

He grinned wider, placing his fingertip on his chin. “But I knew...it had to be a bird. If not turkey or chicken, then what? And it came to me.”

My eyes widened when he lifted the silver lid.

“You made quail!” I shrieked, looking at the small birds on the platter. I almost felt sorry for them, seeing them so tiny on the silver, never big enough to compete with a Thanksgiving or Christmas turkey. But it was perfect.

“Oh I love you, you sweet, precious man, you! I haven’t had quail in ages!”

Harry laughed as he served my plate, then sat down next to me with his own. He poured us both another glass of wine, then took my hand and kissed the back of it. I watched his eyes as he gazed up at me, and I felt I could drown in them. Karen Carpenter’s voice rang through the room, and I began to sing along.

“Logs on the fire Fill me with desire To see you and to say That I wish you Merry Christmas Happy New Year too I’ve just one wish on this Christmas Eve I wi-”

Harry’s lips were on mine before I could finish the phrase. We kissed hungrily for a minute or two. Then he whispered he loved me before releasing me and sitting back in his chair.

The quail was extraordinary and by the time I finished, I was so stuffed, I couldn’t eat another bite.

As before, I helped Harry with the dishes, grateful to spend every moment with him that I could. We sang along to more Christmas tunes, stopping every so often to trade a look or a kiss. Then he took my hand and lead me to the living room, sitting me down on the sofa.

“Wait right here,” he directed.

“Yes, sir,” I smirked, sitting up properly.

Harry shook his head and mumbled as he left the room, “You’ve been hanging around me too long.”

I giggled, taking a sip from my wine glass I’d brought with me. Harry returned within seconds, two boxes in his hands. I gawked at them awkwardly as he sat on the couch next to me. He studied both boxes, seemingly trying to decide which to give me first. Then making a decision, he set the larger one in my lap, the smaller one next to his hip on the other side of him. I watched him as he removed his jacket, draping it across the back of the sofa.

“Merry Christmas, Darling,” he grinned, mimicking the title of the Carpenters song I’d just sung earlier.

I eyed the pretty red wrapped present and then him. “Do I just dig in?”

“Of course,” he urged.

The package was light, so I had a hunch it held some kind of garment. When I tore away the paper and lifted the lid to the plain white box, I knew I was right. Underneath several sheets of delicate tissue paper was a sexy pink negligee with matching lace panties. My eyes widened as I touched the soft, sheer fabric, trimmed in velvet.

“Wow,” I mouthed. “So pretty.”

Clearing his throat, Harry scooted closer to me.

“I got a little help with that, too,” he confessed.

“Lorelei?”

“Yeah,” he blushed. “Well...it was my idea to get you something sexy. Something I’d like to see you in. But I didn’t want to get you anything you wouldn’t want to wear. And she helped with the size and color and all.”

“She knows me well,” I nodded.

“She also said you probably would never buy yourself anything like that, and that…” he cleared his throat again, “that no one else had ever given you lingerie.”

Nodding again, I bowed my head, fingering the lace on the panties.

“I’m sorry. Did I hit a nerve?” Harry asked.

“No,” I choked. Then blinking, I looked up at him with a smile. “No. I love it. I can’t wait to wear it.”

Setting the box on the coffee table, I reached over to kiss him.

“Thank you, sugar,” I said sincerely.

“You’re welcome. Here’s your other present.”

I stared at the long, thin gift Harry’d placed in my lap then, wrapped in pretty iridescent green paper with a red bow. My stomach flipped and my hands shook as I tore the paper, revealing what I’d suspected, a box that couldn’t hold anything other than jewelry. Sputtering out a nervous chuckle, I glared at Harry.

“What is this?”

“Open it,” he urged.

I continued to stare at him, trying to read his face. I hadn’t expected any present at all, at least nothing extra from the trip itself, and he’d gotten me lingerie and jewelry?

“Harry Styles,” I said clearly, though my mouth felt dry.

A dimple dipped in his cheek and his eyes twinkled as he let out a giggle.

“Open it,” he demanded again, tapping my knee with his hand.

Lifting the top of the delicate box, my suspicions were confirmed when I saw the gold chain. However, the pendant was not like anything I would have thought, or even dreamed. It was in the shape of a small music note, two eighth notes joined at the top to be exact, each one holding a different color gemstone in the center. I didn’t have to second guess. I knew what they signified. But my heart suddenly felt overwhelmed at the notion that he knew.

“Harry…” I whispered, my fingers ghosting over the pretty pendant.

“I hope I got ‘em right,” he said, shifting his weight on the sofa next to me. “Lorelei helped me. That’s Jasmine’s birthstone, and that’s-”

“Emery’s,” I finished.

I heard him sigh with relief. “It’s right, then?”

Blinking, I looked up at him. “It’s perfect.”

“Good,” he smiled. Then he reached for the box. “Here, let me.”

I stared at him in awe, this beautiful, thoughtful, sentimental man as he lifted the necklace from the box and opened the clasp. He gestured for me turn around and when I felt the pendant touch my chest, I lifted my hair.

“There,” I heard him say.

His fingers brushed my neck before I let my hair down. Then he kissed the top of my head, his breath tickling me. The tears trickled down my cheeks before I even felt them.

“Aw, baby, don’t cry,” he murmured against my head.

I didn’t need to ask how he knew I was crying. He was just that way. I leaned against him as he wrapped his arms around me, rocking me gently, cooing in my ear.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Why d’you have to be so perfect?” I whined.

His chest shook against me as he chuckled. “‘m not. Trust me.”

I do, I thought to myself. That’s what’s so scary. I trust you with my heart and soul.

“Well, you do perfect things,” I argued, turning around to face him.

“Just wanna make you happy,” he explained softly. “Because I love you.”

Lifting my hand to his cheek, I tucked a curl behind his ear. “I know you do. And every time you do something to make me happy, I fall a little more in love with you.”

Harry nodded slowly and pulled me closer. “Glad it’s working then,” he said before planting a kiss on my lips.

“My turn!” I exclaimed, making him sit up.

I walked around the coffee table to the Christmas tree and picked up Harry’s gifts, setting them between us on the couch.

“Okay, this one,” I began, holding out a poorly wrapped soft gift, “...it’s kinda dumb. But I wanted to get you something and if you don’t like it, it’s okay-”

“Stacey,” Harry interrupted. “You know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know. But I wanted to.”

Harry smiled, tearing into the paper and pulling out a Texans hoodie. Immediately, I covered my face with my hands.

“It’s so dumb!” I exclaimed again. “You’re not from Texas. You don’t like the Texans, you like the Packers. You can’t wear it out, people are gonna wonder where you got it and why. And I don’t even really watch football. I-”

“Stacey, baby!” Harry shouted which turned into a chuckle. “You adorable woman, c’mere.”

My head still in my hands, Harry pulled me to him. Then he pried my hands away, making me look at him.

“It’s great, I love it,” he declared.

“No you don’t,” I laughed with embarrassment.

“Yes. I do. It’s really nice, really soft. And I’m gonna wear it.”

“You don’t have to,” I argued.

“I want to. I love it. And I love it more because you gave it to me.”

I pursed my lips into a tight smile. “You’re a liar, but a sweet one and I love you.”

Harry scoffed as he reached for the second present. “Can I open this one now?”

“Yes. This one’s not as lame.”

“Let’s hope not,” he teased, making me poke him in the side.

When he tore open the paper, however, I could tell from his face that he did not think it was lame. It was a leather bound journal, much like one I’d see him carry before. The pages inside were gold-leafed and I had the store emboss his initials in the bottom right corner. I bit my thumb nail as I nervously and anxiously watched him inspect it.

“This is...amazing,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. There’s something inside too.”

Harry looked at me in question before opening the book to the first page. His face lit up and he blinked several times.

Have you any dreams you’d like to sell?

I’d had the phrase printed at the top of the page as sort of a welcoming.

“Dreams,” he acknowledged.

I shrugged. “Well, yeah. I couldn’t decide on a lyric. But I remembered that was the first song I sang for you on the phone, and we kind of have this connection because of Stevie, and-”

Harry shut the journal and pulled me into a kiss. I let my arms fall around his neck, my hands in his hair. His tongue invaded my mouth, causing me to sink into the kiss. He tasted like wine and suddenly I felt very thirsty, but not for water.

“I think we should go upstairs now,” I heard him murmur against my jaw.

“Shall I change into my present?” I asked.

Harry nodded, his eyelids heavy. “That’ll be nice. Although it’s coming off soon enough.”

“I suspected as much.”

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK | PATREON

[willgrahamscock]

hanniballs :3 was rly tired writing, sorry for mistakes and all of the OOC 😔

Hannibal sighed and looked at his meat racks, he had used up the last of his supply cooking a dinner for Will last night. He only regretted it slightly, as he didn't like having to hunt in the morning; it was uncivilized to get up so early in his opinion. He supposed the act of sharing with Will, making their stomachs come together as one was worth it.

Cracking the fingers of his giga-chad hands, he went up his stairs focused on one thing, the hunger in his stomach.

Hannibal's eyes searched through his Patrick-Batemen-Esque collection of business cards until he spotted the perfect one. 'Gabriel Sullivan', his nose crinkled in disgust, he remembered Mr. Sullivan oh too well.

The memories flashed of an intoxcicated Gabriel bumping into Hannibal at a gym (Hannibal was on the grind only at 2am). Gabriel had reached his hand onto Hannibal's shoulder and pulled him in close.

He was revolted just thinking about the vile words Mr. Sullivan had slurred out, "Heyyyyy soy-boy," Sullivan had hiccuped loudly, "do you want to hear about my new crypto-currency?"

As if the Hannibal Lecter would ever drink soy miilk instead of human blood!

Shaking his head slightly, Hannibal was returned back to reality, or at least, his version of reality. As he was sitting down in his car, he quickly put on his favorite song and his one inspirtion in life, Cannibal by Ke$ha. She was such a girlboss.

The speedometer was whirring alarmingly fastl, Hannibal glanced over and saw he was going 72 miles over the speed limit, oh well. Live Laugh Love.

Not long after, he had arrived at Gabriel Sullivans house, it was suprisingly well decorated, or at the least the outside was, for a man who put his trust into crypto.

He debated how he was going to do this, would he knock on the door and pretend to be a girl scout? Sneak in the windows with the positivly delightful curtains?

Before Hannibal could continue on with his musing, the door to the house was slammed opened.

How rude, not giving him enough time to prepare. It didn't matter though.

Stepping out of the car which Will had adornned with fishing equipment, Hannibal assumed the guise of a old man who was severly sick.

Almost immediantly, he was yelled at, "Who the fuck are you old twat? Get the hell of my property or I'm calling the cops!"

Mr. Sullivan has just now chosen the hard way.

Feeling the wood of his knife's handle, Hannibal coldly slide it into his hand, not caring if Gabriel saw it, there were benifiets to not living near other people, but no one being able to hear screams wasn't one, at least not for Mr. Sullivan.

He speedwalked as fast as a girlie could, managing to get close enough to jab into the pig's stomach, puncutering the pancreas. The glassy brown eyes stared at him, and he stared back, smirking slightly when the injured blinked.

Hannibal began smoothly, "Tell me, do you have one redaimable quality? Any cooking supplies? Blink for yes. This will go much better for you if you answer."

He of course meant better in the sense of taste, however Sullivan didn't need to know that yet.

Water welled up in Gabriel's eyes, but he managed to blink, hoping to save his life.

"Good. That will make this go much quicker then." Hannibal said right before snapping the other man's neck.

"Now to get to work..." It was as if time had suddenly sped up, or an author had work early tomorrow morning and realized they should have spent less time writing the set up and more time learning how to describe cooking.

First, Hannibal moved the body inside the house, for easier access to the meat. He was ready to cook a scrumdiddlyumptious meal, one historians would talk about for centerius if they found out.

The meal was... human balls!

The deilcacy wasn't one he often got to try, for the FBI would surely be suspicious if all the victims of the Chesapeake Ripper had gottern nuetared.

He hummed to the beat of Vivaldi's four seasons, whilst he carefully used his pocketknife to cut off the man's balls induvidially. After he managed to get them in a fairly circular shape (as was required for the recipe he was using), Hannibal raided Sullivan's food stores, grabbing almond flour, two eggs, and the rich people spices / herbs he had brought from home.

Making quick work, it didn't take that long to find a pot that he would be boiling his wonderful creation in.

You may be wondering what exactly he was cooking, well, you know how most people had meatballs as a side with their pasta? Hannibal liked to mix his food together.

Anyways, actually making the noodles took about twenty minutes, which was pretty good considering he'd never had balls cooked like this before, but there's a first time for eveything.

He grasped the two balls, dipped them in extra virgin olive oil, then scuptled the noodles onto it, making the ball's resemble his and Will Graham's faces. Once he was finally satisfied with his work, 30 more minutes had passed and he was growing hungrier by the second.

Putting water into the pot from earlier, he also dumped amounts of Saffron, Kaffir Lime Leaves, Long Pepper, Mahleb, and Black Cumin Seed inside, combining them to make a lovely concoction of all different flavors, enhancing that of the balls.

The water boiled quickly and he delicately put the ball faces in, not daring to ruin one of their designs, if Hannibal wasn't so hungry, he would have painted them with food dye as well.

Exactly ten minutes later, Will Graham showed up, wondering why Hannibal had texted him to come to such an ugly looking house. He sighed once he saw the blood drops on the front porch, he wasn't in the mood for human today, but it seems he would have to eat some.

"Ah, I see you've arived just one time. The act of procreation is one of the most intimate one can have, and yet the place where we can do it is the most painful. Perhaps God is gloating at us once more, for daring to continue after we left his garden. Tell me Will, would you leave the saftey of God's garden? Or continue to live in someone else's shadow, never being your own self?"

Will stared behind Hannibals shoulder, "Dr. Lecter, why are there noodle circles of our faces." Before Hannibal could answer he did his his leap and continued, "And what did you do with the dead man?"

The pychartrist tutted, "I though you would have been smarter Will. Those are his balls, so unfortanute of the poor man that they had to be cut off. I must admit I was curious what would happen if we ate the thing used to make another, but if it where shaped in our own image."

"I have one question Hannibal, who will be eating who?" Will smirked as he said this because hes silly like that.

"Oh Will, what is life but not the consumption of others?" Hannibals lip slightly moved upwards.

Will and Hannibal sat oppisite eachother at an unfamilar table, with tension thick in the air, they began to eat.

The food was so good the both them had transfered into cat's! And if there's one thing cat's do with dead bodies, it's eat them. So nothing really changed except Hannibal's person suit would cost more and Will has more a reason to hunt fish.

I never thought I’d be reading the most raw line

“The act of procreation is one of the most intimate one can have, and yet the place where we can do it is the most painful. Perhaps God is gloating at us once more, for daring to continue after we left his garden. Tell me Will, would you leave the saftey of God's garden? Or continue to live in someone else's shadow, never being your own self?"

In a crack fic about eating ballsacks.

[axailslink]

New years

Riri Williams x poc FEM reader

Summary: you and Riri experience a very realistic New year.

You've already had a few drinks tonight but who doesn't before they go to a party? Well, the second party of the night? Who doesn't have a few drinks before they go to the next party of the night? Riri has been eyeing you making sure you act right of course but you plan on having fun tonight. When you park in front of the rooftop party you can see Riri about to give you her set of rules talk but you kiss her stopping her from speaking. Riri laughs at your little sly way of getting her to be quiet."Have fun I know I'm going to" you get out of the car and smile at her she just shakes her head and follows behind you a smile on her face too. When you both get to the top of the stairs you can see Riri shake her head "can we go home?" You laugh as you walk all the way up and look at the view of all the building lights behind you "absolutely not at least not until you get some drinks in you." Riri is antisocial if antisocial took on a humanized form it would be Riri Williams she's not a fan of parties or anything with lots of people however get her some alcohol and she's the life of the party. The music's blaring you're drinking and watching the countdown you almost forget other people are there because you're too busy with her. You're slow dancing to the music as you sip your eggnog which of course has been spiked with a bit of Cognac... That was your choice, of course. Riri is dancing with you letting her hands stay hooked on your hips the night is calm for the first few hours. The closer the hours get to twelve the faster the music gets and the harder the drinks get. you managed to get four shots into Riri so she's loosened up and is grabbing onto your hips as you're holding your drink in the air and grinding against her. The air is chilled but your body is too warm to notice as you continue being the life of the party. Riri doesn't let you out of her grip most of the night but when she does you're dancing with friends and drinking shots.

A couple of your friends are pulling you to the drinking games and Riri of course follows behind you. you pick up a die and look at the others to catch the rules watching as they roll them and then proceed to down as many shots as their dice land on. you roll your dice and look at Riri who's watching when it lands on five you shake your head and look at Riri she leans up and whispers in your ear "you have fun I'll make sure you stay good tonight." As soon as Riri gives you the approval you need you're quick to take the shots and throw them back. "Fuck yeah that's my girl" Riri grabs you by your throat and licks from your chin to your lips causing you to laugh "you had a little something right there" you just smile at her and kiss her "you just wanted to put your mouth on me" Riri shrugs as she grabs you by your waist and pulls you to a secluded part of the roof. "you're going to be so pissed in the morning" she laughs as you turn towards her and dance to the music paying her no mind. The countdown's close now so the music has stopped and everyone's counting including Riri as she keeps you stable by holding onto your waist. "We got one minute to go everybody get yall last drink of the night!" When you try to pull from Riri's grip she gives you her red cup which you smell first and down without question you're going to be sick tomorrow but you could worry about that when it becomes tomorrow's problem.

Ten

Nine

Eight

Seven

Six

Five

Four

Three

Two

One

When the countdown ends everyone is cheering while you kiss Riri and she smiles into the kiss as she walks you toward the edge of the border of the railing. When you pull away she walks you down the stairs "I don't...waaaant to go" Riri shakes her head "you have had more than your body weight can handle and I don't want you throwing up in my car." you groan and pout but Riri can't help but smile. "Did you make a New Year wish?" you ask as Riri carefully helps you walk down the stairs "yeah I wished that next year you would decide to stay in for New Year." Riri laughs but you roll your eyes when you both finally make it to the car you place your hand on the car for stability feeling everything come up. Riri jumps back and shakes her head "get in the damn car damn... Hold your head out the window if you think you gone throw up come on." you look at her and groan "so you not gone hold my hair for me?" she shakes her head "absolutely not and you bet not throw up in Betty."

you definitely threw up in Betty which she did not let you live down in fact she sobered you up and made you help her clean it and she complained the whole time "and you wonder why I don't let you drive her can't even keep her clean" you throw your rag at her and groan "shut up I have a headache." Riri smiles to herself knowing when you sleep and wake it's only going to be worse.

A/n: yes this is boring so what? I have to rewatch The Death on The Nile so that I can start writing for Rosalie so take this for tonight, please. I'll give y'all some better fics tomorrow I promise

[beforus-for-real-justice]

‹| Currae |Isten here and |Isten carefu||y. |› ‹| You are a terrIb|e person. |› ‹| You have manIpu|ated and mInd contro||ed others, are a terrIb|e cu||er, and overa|| just a terrIb|e tro||. |› ‹| I do not understand how you stI|| thInk you are In the rIght. |› ‹| You deserve to dIe a paInfu| death. |› ‹| If I ever fInd out where you |Ive, whIch wouLd be quIte easy to do In a|| honesty, you can bet on everythIng you have that myse|f and |Ike|y severa| others wI|| be happy to have a |Itt|e vIsIt. |› ‹| Perhaps do some bondIng actIvItIes, such as a bIt of a|ternIan cu||Ing. |› ‹| I have heard Its quIte easy to do, especIa||y to fI|thy mInd contro||Ing coba|ts |Ike you. |› ‹| I have dea|t wIth your kInd before and wou|d prefer not to agaIn. |› ‹| Leave Mod Sky||a a|one and never come back to thIs b|og. |›

[liverobinreaction]

If you had to pick between any of the batfam, who would you pick and why?

Now. Now it depends on why im picking them and what for, so obviously I need to think very carefu-

It's Tim. I pick Tim. It may surprise some of you, I know (/j), but I am rotating him in my mind at all times like a microwave meal. There is so much wrong with him. He's so normal. He is the most character ever. His backstory reads like a mary sue, but he's such an insane character that it works. He means so much to me, he's like Schrödinger's fandom character. He's either the saddest little boy or the most deranged motherfucker ever. Both are technically canon but also not.

I am the only one with a correct interpretation of him (/j) which is he's sad until he isn't and I like to throw him in situations and bounce him like a rubber ball. I have never met a character I've been more fascinated by and attached to. Literally the most character ever.

He was there when Dick's parents died at 3, and has a picture of him. That memory is what revealed Robin's identity to him, and subsequently Batman's. He goes to boarding school and is both incredibly popular and very reclusive. Everyone loves him and he doesn't understand why. When Jason dies, he stalks Dick to a circus, and bothers him AND THE TITANS for the next few months, to the point that everyone is like: do we. need to call someone. And dick just waves it off.

With Young Justice, he embezzled a batmobile through the batarang budget and Bart immediately crashed it. They went to space without anyone knowing. Tim watched his space car fuck another space car, and was then immediately introduced to a Mr Doug Side by Greta bc she misunderstood his introduction as Darkseid.

After Jason best him in the Titans Tower, Tim kicks him in the dick. And says theyre even. He has multiple future versions of him as batman which are evil and use guns. Old powerful men have a weird fascination with him and want to lock him in a box and study him.

So do i. God so do i.

He means everything to me anon

[laski-and-sage]

TJ: Shit shit SHIT!

Pip: What's going on?

TJ: I forgot where i put the mine on the ground... walk carefu-

*insert big explosion*

Alucard, appearing: Which one of you bastards put a mine ON THE SIDEWALK!

Pip: Pray and run, TJ! Pray and run...

[variousqueerthings]

fear makes companions of us all

I was letting a friend know about my little watch and ratings thing, and by chance he's a few episodes ahead and he described the opening of this era as joyless. and yeah, it's. it's a bit. I'm slogging, I really am (luckily next episode is Time Heist!!!)

sexism rank objectification (female character is ogled/harassed/turned into a sex joke by the doctor and/or a lead we’re supposed to root for and/or the camera): 4/10

sexism rank plot-point (lead female character is only there to serve plot, not to have her emotional interiority explored, or given agency to her emotional interiority): 4/10

interesting complex or pointlessly complex (does the complexity serve the narrative or does it just serve to be confusing as a stand-in for smart, this includes visually): 3/10

furthers character and/or lore and/or plot development (broader question that ties into the previous ones, at least two of these, ideally three should be fulfilled): 4/10

companion matters (the companion doesn’t always have to be there, but if the companion is there, can they function without the doctor– and overall per season how often is the companion the focus or POV of the story): 4/10

the doctor is more than just “godlike” (examines the doctor’s flaws and limitations, doesn’t solve a plot by having it revolve entirely around the doctor’s existence): 5/10

doesn’t look down on previous doctor who (by erasing or mocking its importance, by redoing and “bettering” previous beloved plotpoints or characters, etc.): 3/10

isn’t trying to insert hamfisted sexiness (m*ffat famously talked a lot about how dw should be sexier multiple times, he sucks at writing it): 7/10

internal world has consistency (characters have backgrounds, feel rooted in a place with other people, generally feel like they have Lives): 5/10

Politics (how conservative is the story): 6/10

FULL RATING: 46/100 (if I can count….)

oh this is such a weird one. a mystery that isn't a mystery, a recontextualisation that makes earlier lore worse, a messy forwards and backwards that's sort of centred around a date between Clara and Danny Pink, but doesn't manage to centre it, an insight into the Doctor that tells us nothing new...

OBJECTIFICATION: so Clara is on a date, which means that the Doctor for some reason is constantly commenting on her appearance. AAAallll the time. it's not technically the most egregious example of this on the show, but the fact that it's coming from the Doctor and it's directed at his companion, it's just got a low-level patriarchal discomfort the entire time

PLOT-POINT: Clara is on a date and she made a joke that made Danny uncomfortable (which, Danny being a soldier isn't the main point I'll make about this episode, because I don't remember where it goes at the moment), and then they go back in time and meet kid!Danny who's an orphan, and future descendant of Danny who's at the end of the Universe, and then way way back to the Doctor's personal timestream to meet kid!Doctor, whom she comforts

you get the point here? the point is that this is not about Clara, even though it's Clara's date that this thing all attempts to twirl around

I'd say the one thing is that she knows a bit more about Danny now

COMPLEXITY: oohohohooo for a plot that's not really a plot, it's all over the damn place. there's the date, there's two different pasts, the end of the universe, and it's all to find something that doesn't exist. and on some level the Doctor driving themself up the wall with nothing to do isn't bad, but it's just a pointlessly involved plot to get to a particular point that I'm not convinced is a point at all

it's really all about the callbacks, which we will get to...

CHARACTERS/LORE/PLOT: the Doctor's meanness is ramping up. will Clara eventually start calling that out? the Doctor fully yells at her in this one, and it's disconcerting -- I don't know that it was the right choice, even though we're going by an edgier Doctor this time around

there's a careful balance of the Doctor being compelling to watch, which is heavily influenced by their treatment of their companion. if the Doctor is dismissive, cruel, hypocritical towards their companion I need a damned good reason, beyond "this time around my feelings are just a flipping mess"

Danny is an orphan who grew up afraid of the dark (and with something on his bed?) and met Clara as a kid briefly

oh the Doctor was raised in a barn, literally... no, we'll get to some of this in a point further down... and the Doctor was bad at being good at soldiering and was a softy I guess? no, I'll take that, Beta Shrigma was an emotional sad mess of a child, of course

COMPANIONS MATTER: Clara's just running around after the Doctor in this one, buuuut she's there to provide emotional support to both a young Danny and a young Doctor

in fact, it's highly suggested that Clara not only inspired the sonic screwdriver, but also inserted the idea of the Doctor not pressing the big button during the timewar, through the power of being in the right place at the right time I guess

we will get more into that!

“GODLIKE” DOCTOR: the Doctor isn't technically godlike in this one, but it is in the end all about the Doctor, specifically the Doctor as someone who has a brain that's very loud (which we know) who doesn't let things go (which we know) and wasn't a natural fit for the academy (which... ok we only know that for sure if we watched classic who or read the novels or heard some audio, but it's definitely inferred in nu!who as well)

in a way it feels like it's about calming the Doctor down, which could be an interesting episode in the sense of "the Doctor as neurodivergent and mental health issues coded" but instead isn't interested in those things, beyond forgiving every temper tantrum the character has, because the Doctor is deeper than other characters and was sad as a child

there's... a nugget in this. it is not enough for it to be a good plot

PREVIOUS DOCTOR WHO: oh hey, remember how Clara inspired the Tardis and nobody liked that plotpoint? she also inspired the screwdriver, affirmed the Doctor's idk... latent pacifist ideals, and planted the idea not to end the Time War in a bad way

and if that wasn't enough, she also first said a line that's kind of iconic from the very very first serial "fear makes companions of us all."

it's fascinating in the way M*ffat both doesn't seem interested in Clara much beyond what she can do for the Doctor, but then also needs to make her the originator of any and all of the most important parts of DW lore... or maybe... it's just that his imprint needs to be all over original DW lore. conspiracy theory with no stakes unlocked

no but seriously, M*ffat's versions of Classic!Who lore only cheapen the original narratives, and I wish he'd stop. ironically he also fucks with his own lore by not making the undoing of the Time Lord genocide a choice that the Doctor makes based on their own journey, but also something randomly implanted way back as a kid

it's similar to the way he would bring back the Angels over and over again, and to the way I know he's about to bring the core principle of Silence of the Library back again and again, and the "little kid who met someone they will want to make out with as an adult" plotline -- here gender subversed because it's a young Danny meeting Clara as a kid (does he not remember that?) or super special sexy scary woman who's a series of mysteries, rather than a character

my guy has his core Things and he beats at them until there's no blood left, it's truly a fascinating thing to watch someone fucking with their own lore

I confess I did read a bit of others' opinions on the wikipedia after writing above and truly wish to know what they saw that I didn't. "an interrogation of the Doctor's character"? huh?

also this episode was nominated for a Bram Stoker award, and that's also shocking to me. it's not... scary? or even that compelling as scifi. the idea of mystery at the end is a non-idea, even considering there presumably was a creature around and about, and that the Doctor figured out what it was (we don't, because fuck us)

the more I think about this episode, the less I like it

“SEXINESS”: nothing beyond the weirdness of how Clara is classified via her looks. why would the Doctor care? why would the Doctor -- if written as someone who doesn't care -- be mean about it? it's not technically "sexiness" but it feels in the same vibe of things, as it's about the jokes of sexiness

INTERNAL WORLD: I mean, it's... Clara's still a teacher on a date. the Tardis is there. Danny has a little more depth. apparently the Doctor slept in that barn he would eventually Not Destroy Gallifrey from

it's just kind of bland. Oh, Danny's descendant somehow travelled to the end of the Universe I guess. I'll allow that scifi stuff got them into the barn, since the Doctor was unconscious, but it doesn't tell us anything of interest

the world is backdrop, but not fleshed out backdrop

POLITICS: apart from the rampant body-shaming of Clara, this episode doesn't have much to say on soldiering, surprisingly, considering it

a. starts on that ill-fated date with A Joke About Killing Someone which goes awry (because it's kind of a fucked up thing to say to someone you're into)

b. has a continuous thread of little soldier figurines, of which one of them noticeably doesn't seem to have a weapon and is preferred

c. that figurine is given to the Doctor, who is a kid that is considered ill-suited to go to the academy to "learn to be a soldier" (which, I have questions about lore within that, as far as I'm aware there's more to the academy than that, but I'm not sure enough to make that A Point)

there is this one rant Danny goes on about how they "dug wells" and it wasn't all shooting people, but this is something I might talk more about in future, because, well... I mean I'm against the military institution, and considering Danny was an orphan there could be narrative about how those institutions target vulnerable teens, and as a Black man who's possibly navigating ideas of how people perceive him and what it means for white kids to ask if he's ever killed a person... who am I kidding, this won't matter will it?

however, I know there's more coming up, so I won't dwell too heavily on it, but it is a missed opportunity to ground this story thematically, to connect Danny and the Doctor, since there is no grounding

it is a groundless helium balloon of an episode

[thinkingmystic]

Dancing with the reversed King of Wands

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that if you’re a tarot girlie you must also pledge allegiance to some mythical or legendary creature - mermaids, unicorns, witches, faeries, angels, zombies, werewolves. As a vampire girlie I was excited to watch the latest adaptation of Anne Rice’s Interview With the Vampire, a series from AMC starring Jacob Anderson, Sam Reid, Bailey Bass and Eric Bogosian. 

I’ll say from the outset, it feels like Anne was hardly cold in her grave (rest in peace) before this series was announced. I wonder if they would have been able to adapt the story as they did, had she still been alive; she always seemed to have a soft spot for Lestat, and AMC’s version of the character doesn’t shy away from portraying him as nasty and violent.

Sam Reid’s performance as Lestat is brilliant: at turns enthralling and repulsive, gentle and savage, he really brings out the brilliance and appallingly garden variety narcissism of Lestat’s character. He is a spider gently tugging Louis (and the audience) into his web with his complication and (pseudo?) vulnerability, before revealing his true self as he loses control of the narrative (and Louis, and us) to be no more and no less than an abuser.

If I had to ascribe him a court card, it would have to be the King of Wands reversed, perhaps supplemented by the Page of Cups reversed. Lestat has the charisma and compulsion of the King of Wands, but rather than use it for something good, it is all for himself, and to lure all to him. He strives to convince Louis and the audience that he has the innocence and neglect of the Page of Cups (standard practice, I think, for narcissists). Louis wastes a lot of time trying to coax that “side” of Lestat to the fore, wrongly believing this to be the true Lestat. The sad thing being that that “side”, insofar as it ever existed, is as lost to Lestat as his humanity. 

Louis is in many ways Lestat’s complement - it’s what draws Lestat to him. For Louis, then, I’d give the King of Cups upright, and perhaps the Queen of Wands reversed as a secondary card. Far from a perfect man, he nonetheless has a good heart and a gentle spirit that, from an early age, has had to balance his dual natures: his public self and his private, queer self; his mixed cultural heritage; being mixed race but enjoying certain privileges because of wealth and so on. The moment that attracts Lestat initially is a moment Louis would prefer to forget, when he accosts his brother and threatens him with a knife. Lestat, from the getgo, has been interested in nothing but Louis’ destruction. 

As for the reversed Queen of Wands: Louis is more likely to be roused to act on behalf of others than for himself, and the times he does act on his own behalf end up costing him dearly (his “club” and eventually Lestat and Claudia both). There’s also no small amount of pride there. In his conversation with Daniel Malloy, Louis denies Malloy’s insistence that he, Louis, has been a victim of domestic violence. “Are we the sum of our worst moments?” he asks Malloy. So we see the Queen of Wands reversed, thwarted by Lestat’s monstrosity, but too much in denial to admit it. 

Jacob Anderson is a good contrast to Reid’s Lestat; more malleable, at turns strong and fragile. One wonders what lurks beneath the “present day” Louis and his seeming implacability. 

We can’t talk about Lestat and Louis without also talking about Claudia. She is, somehow, the most inhumane and human of the trio. They had a really good actress in Bailey Bass, who gives Claudia a child-like charm which is at different times horrifying and heart-wrenching. Claudia is a mix of the Knights of Cups and Swords for me; chameleon-like, compulsive, clever, manipulative, with a strong sense of her own rightness and even honour, especially when opposed to Lestat. Had she been allowed to age/grow, the Queen of Swords might have been her destiny. The bitterest irony? That the event Claudia so carefully orchestrates to emancipate her and Louis from Lestat’s control (his death) directly leads to her death*, and that the very person she did it for couldn’t even find it in himself to really let Lestat die. Claudia does find her freedom in death; but present day Louis is very much still shackled by his past. 

For all that it is a fantasy series, Reid’s portrayal of Lestat is one of the most realistic I’ve seen of narcissism. The love bombing, the triangulation, the manipulation, the lying and breadcrumbing, the gaslighting… Chef’s kiss. 

What will the second season bring? Unfortunately, Bass isn’t returning as Claudia, which I think will make the character’s death less impactful (regardless of the ability of the actress who replaces her). I wonder if they’re going the route of not showing the death at all, or their time in Europe?** I really hope they don’t do a disservice to Reid’s Lestat by trying to give him a redemption arc. Louis would probably insist otherwise, but there’s no redemption for some things, not even when you really want there to be. 

*If they follow the events of the book. **Since writing this, photos have been released from the second season showing the European timeline.