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#a little bit of lily
slytherinsnekxvii · 2 years
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let's say snape did ask voldemort to spare harry potter, and, by some miracle, doesn't get cursed on the spot. what then?
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..." the hag hisses in Severus' memories, dragged to the forefront of his mind by the Dark Lord's consuming, imposing power. "Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..."
He stumbles backward as the Dark Lord releases him, jabs a heel into the ground to force his body into stillness. The contact is good, grounding. He is here for a purpose, and he will not make a fool of himself before the Dark Lord.
"I know of the prophecy already, Severus," the Dark Lord says, patiently. Indulgently, really, and it is glorious. To be treated with this level of respect by the Dark Lord himself... Mulciber must be eating his hat, and Potter, Black and their little pets rolling in the graves that surely awaited them. "Your having delivered it to me is the reason I have deigned to offer you both my Mark and your choice of reward."
"Of course, my Lord," Severus says, "and I thank you for both."
He flexes his arm at his side, already branded by skull and snake, half scabbed-over, before bending at the waist in a deep bow.
"Rise," the Dark Lord tells him, and Severus catches the amusement in his tone. "Lucius tells me you have great potential, and I believe you will be... most useful to me."
"Thank you, my Lord," Severus says, reverently, and squashes any further daydreams of spitting on pureblood ponces and grinding headstones beneath his boots. He needs to be clear-headed for this. He hardly presumes to be indispensable, but the Dark Lord has named him useful, has promised him a reward. This opportunity, this sort of power, the sort of respect that he would be able to command as one of the Dark Lord's trusted and used... it cannot—must not—be squandered.
"Have you chosen, Severus? Money, glory? Women, perhaps... no. You look above such things, do you not?" The Dark Lord's face twisted at that, a fleeting smirk setting itself across his unsettling features. "Ah. Knowledge is what tempts you... yes. Unadulterated, uncensored knowledge. You could have the contents of the most coveted Dark Arts libraries in your hands. Power the likes of which most people could never dream of. What will you ask of me, Severus?"
His tongue itches to answer, but the Dark Lord continues.
"I do not make a habit of granting requests such as these. Your brethren who have earned the privilege have asked for banal, plebian things or they have pandered to me with silly trinkets and petty refusals. Will you follow in their footsteps? What will you ask of me, Severus?"
The Dark Lord lowers his gaze, ever-so-gentle, presses into Severus' mind once more. A smile flits across his face as he skims through each layer of thought, memory and consciousness, tugging and pulling as he chooses. He snags something, holds tight to it, and Severus is overcome by pure, blinding rage as his life, shown in flashes of humiliation, pain, anger, anger, embarrassment, injustice, so much anger, plays out before him.
"Revenge. Yes, that must be it. You want them to pay for what they've done," the Dark Lord. "That filthy Muggle father of yours, those disgusting blood traitors, yes, all of them will pay. Is that what you would ask of me, Severus?"
The Dark Lord holds his mind in a vice grip, tight, harsh, painful. Had it been a physical hold, Severus would no doubt have been nearly to his knees at this point, gasping for air, begging and prodding at his Lord's arms to allow him to go free. It is entirely within his own mind, however, and with regards to Occlumency, Severus is particularly resilient. As the Dark Lord pries and clutches, his eerie red gaze fixed on Severus' own black stare, he calls to his mouth the words he will answer with, but is silenced before he can speak them.
"No. Their blood would be wasted on you. I could make you—no. No matter," the Dark Lord says, releasing him once more with all the gentleness of a hard shove. "This, you may consider a gift. I will impart to you a secret, Severus, for you have granted me the information which makes this particular endeavour possible. I am going to Godric's Hollow tonight, and I will destroy the creature that Albus Dumbledore presumes will vanquish me."
"God—"
"Silence, Severus. This to to your benefit, you understand. The child must die, of course, but that filthy blood traitor Potter—I will kill him, and through me, you may have your revenge, and thus, you will be free to ask for what else your heart desires."
His head spins, and the Dark Lord cares not, fixing him with a burning red gaze that grows ever impatient.
"What will you ask of me, Severus?"
He can think of a million things he wants, a thousand things that would catapult him into the life he wanted, without having to claw his up from beneath everyone else's feet.
Power, for one. Respect, esteem, the Dark Lord's favour.
He could ask for any of them, he knows which of them he would choose.
The memories crowd his mind, though, unbidden, shaken free by the Dark Lord's rough handling of his innermost thoughts, his mentioning of Godric's Hollow. He doesn't even need to close his eyes to see her. Lily, laying on the grass beside him. Lily, sitting next to him in the Library, laughing over something or other as they breeze through their Potions homework. Lily, turning him away at the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room. Lily, turning her back on him for James fucking Potter and his band of assholes.
Another thought chases them, even more unwanted and unexpected than its predecessors—Lily, body broken and cold, dead on the floor of her home between her husband and child, because of course, of course, she would throw herself between her family—James bloody Potter and his fucking spawn—and the Dark Lord himself.
He cannot ask for her life.
It would be madness. Folly. An impossible request that would follow him for the rest of his time in the Dark Lord's service. He will not squander this opportunity, he will not ruin this for himself as so many things have been ruined before, he will not lose his only chance—
The Dark Lord looks at him, and Severus anticipates the rustling, the grip of thought on his mind and quickly, quietly buries it all, as he blurts, "Lily."
Severus Snape is a fool.
The Dark Lord knows this now. He must.
"You desire... the girl?" the Dark Lord asks.
Severus must be an imbecile. A thrice-damned, hellbound, cotton-brained dunderhead.
"Very well," the Dark Lord muses. "It would be a fitting addition to your revenge. From what I have been told, she was your Mudblood first, was she not?"
Severus nods, mute.
His?
Never. Not really.
"I shall spare her life, and you will have her."
"Thank you, my Lord," Severus rasps, the words bubbling up through a dry, dusty throat, and automatically falls into a bow. He is a fool. "You are too kind."
"Kind..." the Dark Lord rolls the word around his mouth, and spits it as though it is particularly vile. "Hardly. It is only what you deserve."
"Thank you, my Lord." Severus says, and turns to leave.
"You were not dismissed, Severus," he says, and Severus turns back, immediately.
"I'm so—"
"No matter, and straighten up. Tell me, Severus. You think me kind?"
He swallows. "My lord is most generous—"
The Dark Lord stops him, regards him with what little humanity remains in his gaze. Laughs.
Severus stiffens, the hairs on the back of his neck raising at the grating sound.
"Join me. Tonight. You will further prove your usefulness, and kill James Potter yourself. I will spare your precious Mudblood her life."
His stomach rolls in protest at the thought, conflicting thoughts flying through his mind, a cacophony of "She already thinks the worst of you," playing against a backdrop of Lily Potter cradling the bodies of her dead husband and son. Guilt wells up in his throat, swimming up his oesophagus just the same as bile, and he says, "Yes, my lord. Thank you, my Lord."
Petty refusal, the Dark Lord had said, but such was never an option. Severus had sold his soul, and the devil does not bargain. In exchange for Lily Potter's life, he must kill her husband and give up any hope of ever being a good man in her eyes, and the Dark Lord knows it.
Kind, Severus had said. A foolish notion.
They enter Godric's Hollow that night with a bang. Quite literally. The Dark Lord laughs in the face of their wards, and Severus surveys them with pity, and mild disgust. Were they meant to be found? Then, the Dark Lord crows about having their Secret Keeper under his thumb, and the Potters' lack of security becomes an afterthought to betrayal and lies and a sick sense of satisfaction that the Marauders had fallen apart, after all.
The Dark Lord gestures, and even through the smoke, Severus' aim is impeccable. His wand arm raises, and hatred is on his tongue, propelled by years of humiliation and pain, the memories of hanging pantsless above the Black Lake and watching Lily Evans on James Potter's arm, and then, dragging up truly Unforgivable magic behind them. He's already mouthing the Avada behind his mask when the green light floods the room and the Dark Lord finishes Severus' sentence for him.
James Potter's body drops to the ground and as Severus sees the Dark Lord standing triumphant, wand held high, he knows that Potter was never his to kill. The Dark Lord gave, and the Dark Lord took away. Generosity? A pathetic trait to attribute to him.
"Stand aside, girl," he rasps, and Severus' neck jerks. Lily stands between them and the crib, tears already welling in her eyes as she looks frantically between them and James fucking Potter.
The vision plays behind his eyes again, Lily, sobbing, crying, bereft.
Her husband has died and she will not stand aside. Severus knows it. If it will save her son's life, she will sacrifice herself over and over again.
"Stand aside," the Dark Lord commands, again, and he raises his wand to kill her, if not to toss her aside and Severus, because he is a fucking fool, who cannot stand to watch the girl who was once his best friend die, interrupts.
"The child, my Lord," he rasps, and hopes in his heart that if he does not succeed in convincing his master that they are both deserving of life, she will take the brat and run.
"It must die!" the Dark Lord screams, and Lily does not run, she scrambles to the crib, clutches the child to her breast.
"It has power—" he tries, but the Dark Lord will not be reasoned with.
"To vanquish me! It is—" the Dark Lord hisses, wand raised.
"A weapon!" Severus cries, and damns the boy as he has damned himself. "To use against Dumbledore, if he has power to vanquish you, he can be used against—"
"Dumbledore."
It is this that gets through to him, but he does not lower his wand. He flicks it, deliberately, as harshly as he does anything and the child comes speeding into his arms, wailing ever louder. Lily dashes after him, but a deliberate swish of the Dark Lord's wand sends her careening into Severus instead.
He looks into the brat's face, and Severus' breath catches in his throat as twin emerald gazes announce their upset.
Lily's is trained on him as she struggles in his grip, and he needs her to stop, stop fighting, stop kicking, stop making herself a fucking target, so he says, quickly, quietly, harshly, "He'll kill you both if you don't stop."
The baby stares defiantly at the Dark Lord, wailing and screaming as much as he dares. He lowers his wand. Lily stops struggling.
"Yes. You... you can be used. Dumbledore believes that you will be my downfall... but not if you are raised under my hand."
He laughs again, and the sound nearly sets Lily to fighting afresh. Severus clutches her tighter, and the Dark Lord turns to look at him again. "Come."
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bklily · 5 months
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I fully agree, he belongs in the "oops, all trauma!" box. But who's gonna have the courage to put him there.
-
jokes aside like ok im about to go on a rant about Cat Walker
we joke about chat blanc being the scariest one and all but i actually think Cat Walker is easily the most disturbing persona of Adrien. To me personally
like sure Chat Blanc represents a lot of his anger and rage and abandonment. and Claw Noir does that too only in color and lipstick. but Cat Walker being the literal representation of Adriens ability to just, repress himself on command. to just shut off a huge part of his identity (Chat Noir) for what he fully believed to be forever. and easily start acting like a completely different person (Cat Walker) is so. incredibly disturbing to me.
like yeah the episode frames it lightheartedly but the IMPLICATIONS ARE THERE.
cat walker stares at the fact Adrien is so willing to abandon himself, to replace himself in people's lives, to stand by ladybug as a completely different person because thats what he believes she wants from him, to easily live behind layers and layers of masks, and he simply goes "i choose to not perceive that" and i think thats fucking wild man.
so yes, he does entirely belong in the box, but he sure as hell aint gonna admit it, because his whole thing is being the representation of Adrien's repression and covering up his problems. He's not gonna admit he has a problem. So if you try to stage a coup, YOU'RE going in the box, bucko.
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literalite · 8 days
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tonights theme was wolf girls
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saintchaser · 5 months
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“happy birthday,” lily said, sitting down next to him. “this is not exactly how you would have liked to spend your birthday, is it?”
“it’s not.” sirius didn’t know if he had voiced his thoughts — maybe he had, or hadn’t.
“you don’t have to be alone,” james told him, and his voice seemed to come from somewhere far away, almost as if at the end of a tunnel. “you’re not alone.”
he is, thought, and the cell is cold.
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codgod-moved · 2 years
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hey there, buddy
[this is a dtiys! which is definitely not late as hell considering it was meant to be for 3k followers and i’m already nearly at 3.1k! no real rules, you can change tangos design or the time of day or whatever, go wild lol]
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nutcasewithaknife · 3 months
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There's something so ruthless about the way Li Lianhua deceives Qiao Wanmian over and over during the Baichuan Court and Shaoshi case. He calls her A-Mian out of concern, let's her speak her heart, then pretends it was all just a delirious dream of hers immediately after. He brings out that pouch on purpose and describes finding it on a washed up corpse. He lies about his own death without a hint of hesitation, even as each lie breaks her more and more. Even when she's saying it, he cannot believe that what she wants is for him to be alive, for him to not have died because of her. He crushes her hope so ruthlessly because he thinks that's what she truly needs to move on - just that Li Xiangyi is gone for good. Its so infuriatingly presumptious, so arrogant. And it becomes heartbreaking once you realise all that ruthlessness isn't meant for her at all, but for Li Xiangyi. Li Xiangyi, who in Li Lianhua’s eyes can only be a burden once again, a complication, a source of even more pain. It's really impressive how Li Lianhua makes the very same mistakes that Li Xiangyi did even while trying to not be him; he's so sure he's right about what she needs, he doesn't even hear her speak.
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rewritingcanon · 2 months
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I just ADORE the idea of potter sibs learning lessons from their namesakes and being nothing like them :)
James being calm and studious and kinder than his namesakes
Albus learning how NOT to handle very specific social situations from his namesakes
And Lily is just like "FUCK them kids lmao"
YESSSSS literally.
james is more popular than his namesakes were (i like to think james and sirius were just impervious to popularity&they just gave 0 fucks, although sirius was default popular because of his surname and his attractiveness) because hes more welcoming and less of a dick and a nepobaby, but he’s emotionally distant with his peers and finds it hard to open up to others because he’s always a little suspicious of people (unlike james sr, who was an open book). he plays quidditch because he knows he should and it makes his mum happy and its kinda fun and hes kinda good but hes not that passionate about it. he gets amazing grades because hes studies a lot and not because hes a natural genius (unlike sirius, who didnt have to study hard for anything to pass comfortably). james a perfectionist, by-the-book person who struggles to think outside of the box, unlike his grandfather whos genius lied in nothing else.
albus reminds me more of his namesakes than the other two potter siblings, but he probably would appreciate the comparison the least. he’s quiet and lonesome and angsty with a ‘no one will understand me’ mindset, but severely attaches himself to the people he loves, and carries them with him throughout his life without ever moving on (all exactly like severus). hes cunning and always ready to martyr himself (both dumbledore and severus), but hes way more audacious and simple. he has a ‘1 + 1 = 2 end of story’ mind that he got from his parents that completely goes against severus and dumbledore’ long game of chess. albus does not care for such BS, hes still got that gryffindor dawg in him. he will go against every expectation set out for him on purpose (unlike dumbledore and snape, who will use their reputation to their advantage). also, albus is happy lmfao. its why he commits his life to himself and not to others like his namesakes did. he wants simple things like nicely-cooked dinners, warm houses, and to get married young and start a family. kind of like his dad and grandmother.
and lilyyyyy. she is all over the place. she is the quidditch star, the loud one in class, the person who fakes her report cards so her mum doesnt freak out at her. shes not studious like her grandmother, she attracts people to her and selects the greatest pick out of the litter for friends, and shes got a lot of friends (unlike lily evans, who’s love is so concentrated and loyal to very few, and luna who was socially repellent). she travels everywhere because shes a glutton for experiences, she doesnt plan ahead, shes will never be tied down— not even by true love and the prospect of staying with them forever. shes open like luna but her mind is more of a straight arrow than luna’s genius. lily grows up and never has any kids, not because she hates children but because she just never particularly wanted to. she never grew out of being reckless and impatient and impulsive, and she had always known that those traits would not be compatible with raising a child and she was okay with that (unlike lily evans who had always wanted to be a mother, and had dedicated herself to her baby).
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soreddieforit · 2 months
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unassuming, asocial nurse evan who spends his spare time doing free back alley surgeries. in exchange, he gets to try the experimental surgical techniques he thinks up. he's an underachiever, never cared enough about school to go all the way; just wanted to get inside as soon as he could, but he's a fucking genius. like the man could run laps around some of the fellows at the hospital.
and barty badly needs a debridement procedure for the gash on his arm; its gross. fuckin' infected and necrotic--his arm is seriously fucked up, but he can't fuckin' pay for it. lily takes one look and decides barty's gonna die of septic shock if she doesn't figure something out. she fucked around with this girl though, couple months back. remembers something about her brother doing surgeries out of his garage. and barty is like, say less.
they get there--one look and barty is fucking obsessed. like off-putting and apathetic evan, who is just stoic when he pulls bartys arm closer to get a better look. not at all affected by barty's flirting or his attempts to impress evan with the story of how he even got the wound.
evan sends him home after the surgery, tells him to rest. but barty's up at 3 am, shoveling gushers into his mouth and washing them down with mountain dew. bandaged arm cradled gently against his side because evan didn't give him anything stronger than tylenol 500, googling "top ten easiest surgeries to recover from" just to have an excuse to see him again.
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backsurasy · 5 months
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Halloween 1970.
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sugarsnappeases · 6 days
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microfic - bartylily!! | 2k words | infidelity (sorry james!) and sexual content!! (smuttiest thing i’ve ever written lmao) also barty is a dressmaker and lily is coming for a fitting (wink wink)
“You know, Lady Potter, the more I see you, the more convinced I am that your husband just doesn’t know how to treat a lady right”
Lily rolled her eyes as she walked further into the room, looking at Barty out of the corner of her eye as the door fell shut behind her, “He knows how to pay for all these dresses”
Barty chuckled, stepping up behind her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders, draping himself over her like he wanted her to wear him instead of a dress, leaning in so his lips were pressed against her ear, “Because that’s the only thing you come here for”
“Of course,” said Lily, smoothing down the front of the dress she was wearing and studiously ignoring the heat she could feel rising in his cheeks as Barty bit at her earlobe, trailing his lips down her neck, nipping at her skin. “I’m here for a dress fitting, nothing more, the Mckinnons are having a soirée and I need new measurements done”
“Riiight,” Barty dragged out the word, pulling back, running his hands along her shoulders and down her arms, “Well, I suppose you had better take your dress off then, we want to make these measurements as… close as possible”
Lily laughed, turning to swat at Barty’s arm, catching him watching her, something between awe and pride in his eyes, the same way he’d looked at her the first time he’d made her laugh - the first time he’d made her cum.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to help me with the buttons,” she smiled, playing coy, turning back around again. She could feel the heat of his body as he stepped closer to her again, his breath on the back of her neck, standing far too close to be professional, his hands working their way down her back, undoing the line of pearl buttons.
With the last one, he slid his hand under the fabric of the dress, cold on the skin of her lower back, her waist, squeezing at her hip, and she gasped.
“There,” he said, sliding his other hand up her shoulder and helping her to slip the sleeves off, the top of the dress falling to gather at her waist, exposing her chest to the cool air of the fitting room. Lily leaned back into him slightly as he ran his hand up her stomach to cup one of her breasts.
She wasn’t quite sure how it had started, this thing between them, this routine - Lily would go to get fitted for a dress and Barty would get her off - but there was something addictive about the way he touched her, the attention, the adoration, the worship in his fingers, in his words. He made her feel alive, he made her ache, just a few touches and she could already feel that she was wet, anticipation bubbling under her skin wherever his hands went.
“Now,” Barty said, speaking into her neck, lips pressed against her skin, two fingers circling lightly around her nipple, the other hand moving downwards towards where her dress was bunched up at her waist, “Can you do the rest yourself or do you need my help?”
Lily lay her head back to rest on his shoulder, feeling herself blush as he licked at her neck, breathing, “My husband has paid for your finest attentions”
Barty bit into her neck then, pinching at her nipple at the same time, making Lily gasp again.
“So he has,” Barty agreed, face moving away slightly, both hands moving down to sit just above her dress, fingers brushing over the skin just underneath the fabric, “And, although I’m sure you’re used to disappointment where Lord Potter is concerned, I always make sure my customers are satisfied”
With that he gathered her dress in his hands and pulled it down over her hips, her arse, her thighs, letting it fall to the floor as his hands roamed back up her body, squeezing at her thighs, her arse, her hips.
“My my, Lady Potter,” he murmured, pulling her backwards, closer to him, her bare skin pressing against his clothes, his fingers pressing into her skin, “No undergarments? How scandalous”
Lily huffed, bringing a hand up to thread through his hair, tugging lightly in a way that made his hands squeeze tighter at her body, “Do you satisfy all of your customers in the same way?”
Barty lowered his face to her neck again, mouth just above her pulse point, like he was trying to speak directly into her bloodstream, “Why? Would you be jealous if I said yes?”
One of his hands moved down over her hip bone, brushing through curls and circling her clit, the other moved upwards, cupping her breast again, squeezing her nipple. Lily tightened her grip on his hair, trying to sound unaffected, trying not to moan, as she said, “No”
Barty laughed, hands unrelenting, everywhere, making her squirm against him, heat not just in her cheeks now, “I’m the most popular dressmaker in the city, you know. You’re one of six different fittings just today. Would you be jealous if all of those people got the same treatment as you? My finest attentions?”
Lily shook her head, sure she wouldn’t be able to contain a moan if she attempted to speak this time, his hands were unyielding, inexorable, pressing, squeezing, his breath hot on her neck.
“You’ll have to use your words, princess,” Barty said, pulling her body backwards even closer into his, like he was trying to push himself into her bones, merge them into one, become a part of her, “Tell me. Would you be jealous if I told you that you’re not the only one?”
He moved a finger through her wetness as he spoke, rubbing at her clit again before sliding it into her warm heat, his other hand still playing with her nipple, “If I told you that my shop is popular because of more than just the clothes?”
Lily gasped, hand lifting to join the other clenched tight in Barty’s hair, as his finger slid in and out of her, as he kept speaking, mouth still pressed to her pulse point, “That everyone you see wearing my clothes - all your acquaintances, your friends, your husband - gets all the same benefits that you do?”
She moaned as he added a second finger, as his other hand pinched hard at her nipple, as he bit and licked at her neck, merciless, relentless, everywhere at once in a way that made her feel like she was stood in the middle of a bright, hot bonfire, burning at the stake.
“Tell me, princess,” Barty continued, inexorable, “Would you be jealous?”
His thumb moved to circle her clit as his fingers pressed in and out of her, and Lily moaned again, panting, trying to focus enough to speak, mind consumed by the fire, by the pleasure, by his fingers, his worship of her.
“No,” she eventually managed to breathe out, a word that turned into a moan halfway through as Barty sucked hard at her pulse point, still pressing impossibly closer to her, never close enough.
He licked at the spot he’d sucked, tongue hot and wet, then moved his head away from her neck slightly, the hand on her breast moving up over her collarbone to rest around her throat instead, applying a little pressure, making Lily squirm again, the heat in her burning ever higher, rising to a roaring inferno, closer and closer to the peak of its height.
“What was that, princess?” he said, trailing kisses over her shoulder now, his own breathing heavy as she moaned again, his erection pressing against the curve of her arse where their bodies were tight against each other, closer than close, merging into one.
“I didn’t quite catch it,” he continued, biting at her shoulder, one hand flexing around her neck, the other still working inside her, three fingers now, lighting her up from the inside out, relentless.
Lily pulled at his hair, hard enough to hurt, fingers in a white-knuckled grip, hands sweaty, her turn to make him moan, low and almost desperate into the skin of her shoulder, a curl of satisfaction only adding to the crescendo of heat inside her.
“I said-” she panted, biting at her lip to stop another moan of her own as Barty’s thumb dug into the space between her jaw bone and her skull, as his other thumb rubbed unrelenting circles onto her clit.
“I said no,” she managed, pressing herself back even closer into Barty’s body, close enough that the shape of his shirt buttons, his belt buckle, would probably be indented into the skin of her back, leaving a mark like the hickeys she was sure were bruising her neck, becoming a part of her, fusion.
Barty laughed, hot breath on Lily’s skin, tightening his grip around her throat, fingers sliding in and out of her faster, harder, moving to press his lips against her ear, “I don’t think I believe you”
Lily was hurtling rapidly towards an explosion, toes curling, a flame travelling along a trail of gunpowder, approaching the powder keg, set to blow up, shatter, erupt. She couldn’t stop the noises coming out of her mouth now, needy and greedy and obscene, almost as obscene as the sound of Barty’s fingers moving in her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, to the burning inferno.
“I think you like the idea of being special too much, princess,” Barty maintained the pressure around her throat, on her clit, relentless, inexorable, merciless, moving to bite at her collarbone, like he was trying to sink his teeth into the bone itself and suck out the marrow, and Lily’s eyes rolled back as something exploded inside of her, the fire reaching the powder keg, falling headfirst into a roaring inferno, fireworks erupting behind her eyelids, collapsing entirely against Barty.
He moaned against her skin again, entirely desperate-sounding now, animalistic, raw, as she spasmed against him, around his fingers still inside her. He moved the hand that had been around her throat to wrap around her waist instead, holding her up as she shattered into pieces in his hands, licking at the layer of sweat on the skin of her neck, tongue hot and wet, groaning like he was tasting ambrosia, something holy despite the way she was burning up in hell’s inferno.
Lily panted, coming down from her high, Barty helping her through it, his erection still pressing up against her arse, his belt buckle, his shirt buttons, still pressing into her skin, the two of them merging into one.
“And you are special,” Barty went on, pulling his fingers out of her, lifting them to his lips, licking them clean and moaning again, the gods’ nectar, divinity, sublimity. With his fingers clean, he gripped Lily’s chin gently and tilted her face towards his, awe, pride, devotion, worship in his eyes as he looked at her blissed-out face.
He kissed her, slow and reverent, and she could taste herself on his lips, his tongue, hot and wet, murmuring against her lips, “So, so special for me, princess”
Lily nearly collapsed back against him again, entirely weak in his arms, still breathing heavily, against his lips, anticipation building again, addicted to his touch, his adoration, the way he held her like he wanted to melt into her, like he wanted them to fuse into one, inseparable.
She turned in his arms, facing him now, wrapping her arms around his neck, one hand sliding into his hair to deepen their kiss, Barty’s hands moving to rest on her hips, pulling back slightly, something a little mocking in his eyes, to say “You know, I bet these little meetings are the only time you ever cum”
Lily scoffed, pulling back further, moving her hands to rest on his chest, pulling her hips back from where they had been grinding against Barty’s, against the wet patch in the place his trousers were straining, “You know, I came here for a dress fitting, nothing more, and you haven’t even gotten your tape measure out yet”
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corvosattano · 6 months
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WITH MY MEMORY RESTRICTED TO A POLAROID IN EVIDENCE.
“Mama says I’m not supposed to talk to you,” she said matter-of-factly, like she was musing on the weather. “She said you’re on out-of-towner, and out-of-towners are nothin’ but trouble.“
“I seem like trouble to you?”
She grinned, a brilliant flash of teeth. “No, sir. You don’t seem like trouble at all.”
TRANSCRIPTS:
FEBRUARY 15, 1968
Tragedy struck as an overnight house fire claimed the lives of two respected members of the community. The bodies of William Watt (42) and Nora Watt (39) have been recovered from the remains of their family home, confirming that their daughter, Lily-Rose Watt (22) was the sole survivor of the sudden blaze. Crews arrived on scene to find Lily-Rose collapsed on the lawn, being tended to by a good samaritan who declined to provide his name. Services for the couple will be held on Sunday at 10 am, with a benefit potluck supper for the surviving daughter held at 7 pm the night before.
NOVEMBER 16, 1968
Lily-Rose Watt, 22, of Eden Creek, Missouri and Charles Landry, 31, of Baton Rouge, Louisiana were married on November 16, 1968 at First Baptist Church in Fairhope, Alabama. The bride recently made the news as the sole survivor of a house fire that claimed the life of both parents, though the dearly departed were honored during the ceremony. Their love story began when the bride was rescued from that very fire by her future groom when he happened to be driving by. The happy couple plan to go into the motel business after a brief honeymoon.
JANUARY 3, 1975
Most recently known as Charles Landry (presumed 38) at the time of his death, the local authorities remain unsure of the true identity of the body they found with a self inflicted gunshot wound amongst what several officers described as a “slaughterhouse”. Eyewitness accounts describe him as a charming man, friendly to the tenants of the motel he co-owned, but never seen without his young wife — one Lily-Rose Landry (née Watt, age 29), whose body was also recovered from the scene. The cause of her death remains undetermined, with an autopsy pending. The sole survivor of the massacre is reported to be a female infant, thought to be the Landry child.
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[I am terribly impatient to see Lust pair plot progression, and since the recent chapter has not given me any I have decided to be delusional and make my own; enjoy]
“I have never been loved even once in my life!” Lily yells. 
Misono can only stare, frozen. The man in front of him has no more gentle smiles and kind touches to offer, no more mocking grins and sharp words; this Lily is angry and bitter with something that might be grief. His face is contorted in a sharp-fanged grimace. His fingernails dig deeply into the hardened magic of their chairs. 
Misono has never heard him yell before. 
“The Alicein love you,” He hears himself say, and then “do they not?”
Lily laughs, brightly like the sound of shattering glass. 
“The Alicein love me no more than they’d love a pretty trinket,” He spits, “I’m nothing but their heirloom to pass to their sons and daughters. Do you think Mikage took me to those operas because he loved me so much? He only ever loved being admired for having such a pretty plaything. Mikado – Mikado tossed me aside like jewellery he thought too ugly to adorn himself with, scraps for his wife to pick at like everything else he no longer wanted! Mikuni has never seen me as more than my name, and you –”
Misono flinches, though Lily hasn’t moved from his seat. The man’s chest is heaving. His eyes are dry but his voice broke on the last word like Misono’s sometimes does when he’s about to cry. 
“You were the only one who ever came close to fooling me,” Lily whispers. “You were so kind to me. I didn’t even care when you yelled and threw books. I wanted you to love me so badly.” 
For a split second it’s too much and Lily’s face breaks and Misono sees anguish and pain and despair and thinks – he has seen this face before; at night, in the garden, when he screamed at Lily to never come near him again. 
“I’m not angry with you,” Lily says, “it’s my fault. You could never love me.” 
It feels like being ripped from a daze. Suddenly, Misono is angry. 
His Lily is hurting. What is he doing?
“So when all is said and done,” Lily continues, “you’d be foolish to think you could have changed anything. Do you understand, Misono? Nothing you can do could ever –”
“Shut up, Snow Lily!” Misono roars. 
He feels his power ripple through the remnants of their pact. For a moment, Lily’s voice fails him. For a moment, he looks triumphant.
“You are so fucking desperate to be unlovable it’s pathetic!” Misono yells. “You have never, for even a single god damn moment, stopped to consider that you’re just hurt and angry and too fucking stupid to see others’ feelings for what they are! You refuse to deal with your pain because you are a fucking coward, who spent all this time planning and scheming and still needs me to hate him to actually go through with it!” 
There’s a grim sense of satisfaction in wiping away that treacherous sense of triumph on Lily’s face, but he is not done yet. He draws another deep breath. 
“You cannot force me to fit into this fucking fantasy of yours! You cannot make me hate you!” 
He screams it with all his strength, even as he tastes blood in his throat. 
“I love you! I have always loved you and I always will! And you can hate this family and you can mock me all you want, but you will never change this!” 
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berryjaellie · 4 months
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the complete eri guidebook (2023) full version under the cut ♡ pdf ver. happy birthday @xiaojuun !! <3
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credits. with the help of: meg (@hozierbyrne) // brina (@aquablues) // aléks (@possession1981) // vianey (@souladies) // lili (@ninqz) // aweks (@awek-s) // miha (@jaebeomtual) // rachel (@gnanii) // mare (@dongkwan) // ro (@sunghanbin) // rosie (@kimjiwoong) // lulu (@fushigojos) // sofi (@yukuz) graphics: gift boxes // broccoli // orange fruit watercolor // lip print textures // notion-style scribbles // healthcare vector icons // human anatomy icons // film cutouts pack // 3d travel icons // drinks vector icon set // coffee outline illustration pack // baby vector icon pack
#*mine#oorieri#genuinely thank you SO MUCH for participating @ everyone who did . and if i didn't contact u ... im so sorry i probably didnt fully realize#that u were friends with eri um . sowwie#thank you for finding the time to think about this and . for those who did . for sending in your answers i lob u this is only possible beca#because so many people agreed to help...#a note to meg!! specifically!! because you did so much (from being my first interviewee and my lab rat to responding to the few questions i#had . to suggesting people to include and offering your help with contacting some people (although it did not work out in the end as i said#i really appreciated the thought!!)#note for meg (2): i ended up not being able to use indesign at all... it was too big for my poor little tablet skjsk i got rlly excited abt#n downloaded it strategically for the free trial to expire today or tomorrow but. had to uninstall right away... sighs)#special thanks to lili for being so sweet . i think we became a bit closer through the messages we exchanged in between this project <3#special thanks to rachel and mare who i know are both really good friends with eri but who aren't exactly familiar with me... i was really#nervous messaging you both so thank you for being so sweet and for participating despite life not exactly helping!!#note for rachel: im sorry i ended up casually calling you rachie in my head the past month or so .. forgive me#special thanks to lulu for being willing to participate#a big thank you to everyone for opening up#and thank you to gabi and sarah who did try their best to find the means to participate#big thank you to gimp for crashing so many times while i was making this & to myself for overriding one of the most important files acciden#accidentally. good job#and finally. the BIGGEST thank you to OUR BELOVED ERI who. clearly. is just the biggest sweetest sunshine & the bestest friend to all of us#thank you for everything always ... i hope you're sleeping well by now#and of course: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! i truly wish you all the best today. and this month. and the next year and the next one and the next one an#i love you. <3 i really do#and so does everyone! clearly!!
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caffeccino · 2 months
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Lilytary question for Cherry! School seems tough, do you have any hobbies or things you like doing during downtime to unwind a bit? Gambatte!!!
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Cherry Pie actually had a pretty good time during high school when her sister was in college
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oatbugs · 3 months
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Jack Marsh (2005), Friendship Otherwise - Toward a Levinasian Description of Personal Friendship
#saw carnation lily lily rose by john singer seargent irl today. it was basically at my doorstep all along idk why i never went to see it#it was placed at a corner in the gallery. me and my friend sat down and sketched the paintings of beautiful naked people quite badly. paper#provided by tate britain. she told me about how she couldnt look her boyfriend in the face after a harrowing film about war. when i say the#interview was informal i mean the person who was supposed to be my boss told me let me get you a cider and then he said after#50 years of life he knows people are inherently good and it only takes a little bit of kindness to save this world. he said he tricked#his wife into keeping the baby and then he said he quit his job at a US bank to help people find meaning and in it#he would have liked to find meaning. instead he started climbing with his friends. he said he chews his cigarettes because its a habit from#when he had to hide things from people. the entire time i felt uncomfortable and incredibly enlightened. this is my friends mentor. she has#his pattern of pauses and expletive and penchant for ends-justify-means attitude. i do think im not very clever#but maybe one day i will love you enough to make up for it. i wrote code i dont understand staring at the final error i thought about how#we both thought of how when we're too old to remember the voices of our friends we would like to stand in the pathway of the LHC beam pipe#cut it open and eat light in the freezing cold vacuum (kills you long before radiation will) the invisible puncture wound unfolding dna#back to the start larger than you ever were. you go to heaven once youve been to hell. my friend is in my bed#practicing calculations of eigenvectors by hand and she is uninterested in a visual proof you are uninterested in incompetence#we catch a train this is your kind of burden you tragic hero wincing at that word you only do this because you have to. im the only one#who can. i am a coward in this for the fucking poetry. the visual proofs. the pretty numbers. an architect who was horrible at maths wanted#to be a philosopher and accidentally ended up neck in deep in 70th Error On Visual Studio Code i want to kiss your eyes before we say#goodbye we both know there is no love in the way there should be. I still have your dress in my wardrobe. i hope you make art.#you think im alright head-wise i think you fucking hate me i think ill never be so clever you want me to tell you my idea?#if you wanted more of this world i would have liked to kiss you harder. we cant both be like this. im sorry i cant be with you the whole wa#the love is gone if you have to ask it. his breath catches his eyes feel stiff it is -1.9 kelvin he is near the beam pipe i miss holding#his hand i miss her singing voice i miss his hair and i found the antonym of pain thank you for carrying me home.
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shortcakelils · 1 year
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(This is fee asking, my cupsona) is cups free by any chance???? (Idk what to do rn🤣🤣🤣)
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