#✧. ┊ ❛ the hammer of the gods ❪ aesthetic. ❫

[thebeautyofspn]

5x19 Hammer Of The Gods

[sonicboomseason3]

YOU HAVE GREAT TASTE!!! Sonic Boom was SO GOOD! I love how much love it gave to Orbot and Cubot. As for Shadow, I love his depiction in it, as long as it's only in Boom. He acts like a JILTED LOVER...

god okay ive said this on the blog before but back then i didnt have any extra eyes on me so who knows this may result in me getting vagued but i really am not into the whole "boom!shadow is boom!sonics bitter ex and/or secretly loves him" fanon like i usually love looking too deep into things as much as the next person but i genuinely just think he doesnt like sonic due to a pride thing while sonic himself doesnt give two shits about it. im aware that at least some people arent being serious about it and are just fooling around but imo this whole fanon is so overblown at this point that im just. idk pointedly refusing to acknowledge it? except for right now ig. like i understand that boom!shadow in a vacuum is like a total nothing of a character and theres not much for people to use except for his relationship with sonic but id much rather focus on himself as an individual and explore the potential he had instead of treating him as an extension of sonic and nothing else

thank you for saying i have great taste though i appreciate it :]

[sumi-sprite]

OAO

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of Men at Work!

Just a note, I know I mix phonetic and Cyrillic spellings of Russian in this. Mostly it's so that people can easily translate the more complex words directly.

Content: Masturbation, very mild protective/possessive behavior

It’s becoming a problem.

You think this from the overstuffed daybed recently purchased for the explicit purpose of feeding into aforementioned problem. Not that the porch is the problem, heavens no. If so much as a nail came loose, there’s a trio of men across the street all too eager to lend their hammers and bulging, glistening muscles to fix it.

Which, conveniently, is the problem.

Their muscles, that is. And how magnanimous they are with them.

Your house is nice. New. It took them three days to fix all the issues you’d been putting off for a day you were non-reclusive enough to schedule a handyman.

Your house is too nice and too new.

You’re feeding a Vegas buffet’s worth of appetites raised on old world sensibilities with no outlet for them to be expressed. There aren’t enough squeaky hinges, crooked cabinets, stuck windows, or leaky faucets in your two-bedroom for all that… chivalry. (Or whatever Krueger has that passes for chivalry’s surly cousin.)

They’ve taken to invading earlier in the evening for busy work before dinner. Cutting vegetables, tenderizing meat, cleaning dishes, setting the goddamn table.

Like, sirs, you’re a single woman with three cats and a sham of a personal life – the last time you saw a centerpiece on a domestic dining table was Christmas at your nana’s.

Until Konig shuffled in with a fistful of sunflowers and zinnias, promising that he double-checked that they’re non-toxic to cats. You didn’t have a vase, so you had to make do with an empty mason jar you were keeping for ostensible aesthetic reasons.

Now you’ve got an ongoing bouquet, kitschy salt-and-pepper shakers shaped like lemons that no one ever uses (as if your seasoning decisions are as good as god) and are contemplating cloth napkins like some kind of… of…

“Socialite?” you muse aloud. You glance at Rasputin. He blinks slowly. “Hostess? Woman of the night?”

You’re pretty sure Agatha didn’t mean that as a compliment when you overheard her gossiping to Margot yesterday. (She should really remember that if she can eavesdrop on you from her backyard, the same is true the other way around.)

You’re toying with an idea for a new series with your last one wrapping up and your solo-novel due for release come fall. Something about a rich young woman with a wild streak and her fantastically wealthy gentlemen callers…

“Scarlet woman,” you murmur aloud, eyes on the reason for your recent porch décor purchase.

Krueger is on the roof, cloth around his head to stave off the summer heat. Doing… something with shingles and a nail gun. Your face flushes with each flex of hard muscle, jump of thick tendons. The grip he has on that thing…

As inspiring as your neighbors are, they are also a huge (in many, many ways) distraction. Hence, they are a Problem.

And not just for you. On your right, you catch the flutter of curtains from your peripheral. Lisa taking another peek – to be properly scandalized, probably. (You’re not really sure what the neighborhood biddies tell themselves when they decide something is Simply Not Proper.)

“We’ll have to start charging admission,” you muse, sipping a strawberry mojito.

Curled up far too close for the weather, Little Guy chuffs and stretches. You smooth a fingertip up his little nose, between his eyes, and over the crest of his empty head.

“Jezebel,” you mumble. He yawns, tongue curling and pearly fangs gleaming. “Trollop.”

An annoyed grunt pulls your eyes forward again. Nikto is standing halfway up the porch, one foot planted on the last step like a sexy Russian Captain Morgan. His thighs stretch his workpants oh-so-nicely. There’s a smear of white paste across the material – caulking, maybe?

(You could do with a caulking too.)

“Has someone called you these?” he asks. “Who?”

You laugh. What would he even do if someone had?

“No – well, not to my face, anyway.”

He snorts, shoots a withering scowl at Agatha’s property anyway. You spin your pen around your fingers and try not to bite your lip at the way his shirt is clinging from sweat.

“Aren’t you hot?” you fuss. “You’re going to pass out.”

“Nyet, we have been in worse,” he replies, finishing the short journey up the porch. He pauses in front of you, taking in the sight of you and your cats. What does he think, seeing you lounging about all day while he and his friends(?) are working so hard? If it’s something negative, he’s never let on.

“Still,” you insist, “have you been hydrating?”

“Da, the water runs.”

You blink, put together pieces to assume he and the others are chugging tap water (probably right from the faucet) when necessary. Well, that just won’t do now, will it?

“No, no. Hold on. Rasputin, hold him hostage.”

And like the little angel he is, Ras gets up, stretches out, and begins rubbing his face all over Nikto’s pants. With him distracted, you hop to your feet and scurry inside. The house is almost uncomfortably cool after most of your morning spent outside, but you’ll only be a moment.

There’s a large ruby pitcher waiting in the fridge from last night, complete with various berries floating at the top. You use two hands to heft it out, set it on the counter, then flit to your cabinets for the travel cups you invested in for on-the-go wine sipping. Nice and insulated.

You pour a cup for each of them, stow the pitcher away again, and carry all three in triangle-formation back outside. (Maybe you should get a tray? The antique store in town probably has something pretty and lemon-themed to match the salt and pepper shakers…)

Nikto hurries to help as soon as he sees you, plucking the extra cup from your hands.

“I saw this recipe and wanted to try it since it’s been getting hotter.”

He blinks at you, then the juice.

“You don’t have to try it now, I just thought—”

Your voice abandons you as Nikto tugs his filtration mask down. The skin beneath is warped and scarred, discolored in some places. When he raises the edge of the cup to his mouth, the skin of one cheek stretches distressingly thin. You can see the individual indents of his back molars pressing against the flesh as he drinks.

You understand why he’s been hesitant to show you; it’s not easy to look at. Which makes you all the more determined to flick your eyes back to his and ask, eagerly, “What do you think? Too sweet?”

As he swallows, throat clicking, you think you hear him grunt something.

“Hm?”

“Nyet. Not too sweet. Is good, пчела.”

You grin even though you’re not sure what it means. All three of them have some nickname in their mother tongue that you can only hope is complimentary and not because they forgot your actual name.

“Good, then I can bring some to K and K while you help me with lunch. That’s why you came by, right?”

He nods. “Nearly noon.”

“That late already!” you say. Wow, staring at hot, sweaty men really makes time fly. “Alright, I was going to make chicken wraps and latkes. Could you start peeling potatoes? You know where everything is, da?”

“Da.” He clicks his tongue, luring Rasputin in and stirring Guy awake. “Come, малышу, before we leave you out here for vultures.”

“Nikto!” you scold. “Don’t threaten him.”

“I do not threaten. It is what will happen.”

You swat at his arm, but at least Little Guy has been lured into Nikto’s reach – if by nothing else than a hand has been offered and cats are helpless to resist a good sniff. Nikto scoops him up while you turn to flounce down the stairs.

“Make sure Susan doesn’t get out!” you call over your shoulder.

She was roused by your quick turnaround to get the juice cups and will certainly be stalking the door now.

Sure enough, you faintly hear him cursing in Russian as you reach the end of the yard. Luckily, you see him closing the door with all three of your demons inside, so you continue across the street.

Krueger hasn’t noticed your approach, his back to you, so you stop at the edge of the property to watch for a moment. Yep, just as good this close, too.

“Krueger!” you call. He doesn’t turn. You huff and try again. Nothing. Christ, you’re starting to think he’s ignoring you on purpose. “Sebastian!”

His head whips around alarmingly fast and finds you right there on the ground. No need to look around at all – sometimes they remind you of their profession in the oddest ways.

“Ja, ja, no need to shout,” he replies.

You open your mouth to do just that, but he’s already scaling down from the roof. You’re stunned into silence as he slides down to the edge of the roof, catches the edge, and swings down to the ground. Lands with barely more noise than one of your footsteps. It’s quick yet so graceful.

You stare (gawk, more accurately) as he saunters up, pants sinfully low on his narrow hips.

“What did you need, bienchen?” he asks. “It is too early for lunch.”

You stutter for a second before your brain reboots.

“What was that?!” you demand, a little shriller than necessary. If you don’t shriek about this, you’re going to shriek about that gorgeous chest and the tattoos and the everything else, and you absolutely cannot do that. “That was so dangerous! You’re going to break a leg!”

“You worry,” he scoffs. He shakes his head, but there’s a wicked, knowing grin at the corners of his mouth and his eyes are far too bright. “That was a little jump.”

“It was not!”

“It only seemed big because you are so little, but it was nothing for me.”

“You’re not that much taller!”

“It is sweet to worry,” he coos, “but it is too hot for it, yes?”

You scrunch your nose at him, not sure if you’re annoyed or turned on or both. (Probably both. It’s annoying how hot he is. And how hot he knows he is.)

“If it’s so hot, then here.”

You all but shove the cup at him. He takes it with a flicker of genuine surprise, sniffs at the liquid, then takes a sip. A pleased hum rumbles in his chest, raises the temperature another few degrees.

“My mother used to make something like this,” he muses, expression softening. You blink, lean in automatically for a peck to your cheek. “Danke schön.”

“Bitte,” you mumble, mouth drier than Reggie’s garden.

His eyes crinkle, mouth hidden by the edge of the cup as he proceeds to chug the rest of it. A droplet slips down his jaw and skips down to his collarbone. You force your eyes away before you’re driven to do something irreparable by thirst.

“Is Konig inside?” you ask. “I have a cup for him, too.”

He grunts confirmation, tongue curling around a blueberry to coax it into his mouth.

Yep, alright, that’s about as much as you can take.

“Scooch, before the punch goes warm.”

“Punch?” he repeats, arching an eyebrow at you.

“That’s what it’s called in English. Punch.”

“That seems like it would cause misunderstanding.” Except he’s grinning as he says it, like he cherishes the idea of someone confusing the two words and starting a fight. Considering how often you catch him and Konig smacking at each other, that’s probably not a stretch.

“Just please don’t swing on anyone, yeah?”

“Only because you ask so nicely,” he croons.

You click your tongue at him. “Wipe off before going in, I don’t want Shithead to stink after crawling on you.”

He barks out his usual sharp laugh and tugs the cloth – his own t-shirt – off his head to mop up his sweat. You make a mental note to tease him about sunburn later as you slip past him.

You can hear Konig singing off-key upstairs when you open the door. The house is sweltering, only mildly cooler than outside with none of the fresh air. You grimace as you pause at the bottom of the stairs; the boys have warned you that it’s dangerous up there and it’s best not to go wandering.

Thankfully, it doesn’t sound like he’s using power tools at the moment.

“Konig!” you call.

“Is that you, biene?” he calls back.

You grin. “Who else would it be, huh?”

You hear his footsteps right over your head, track his gait until the first heavy boot on the stairs. He meets you at the bottom with his usual ventilator on, but he tugs it down when he sees the cup in your hand.

“Is this for me?” he asks eagerly.

“Yep! Tell me what you think!”

With none of Nikto or Kreuger’s hesitation, he knocks back a big mouthful. Licks his full lips as he lowers it, eyes bright as they land on yours.

“This is perfect,” he chirps, “so refreshing! Thank you, biene!”

You beam right back, flushed with pride that all three of them liked the recipe you “happened to find” when you saw the temperature projections for today.

“There’s more back home,” you offer, “come out of the heat.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. “I will wipe off first.”

You hum agreeably, watching him slip back upstairs with great enthusiasm. Konig in a tank top and those tight cargos… summer really is delivering this year.

That evening, you sigh as you recline across your huge bed, naked and cooling off with the night breeze rolling through your window. Ras and Shithead are happily distracted wrestling each other in your forgotten towel, and Little Guy is snoozing on his personal pillow.

You stretch out, feeling a bit decadent and indulgent with moonlight spilling over your body, and let your hands wander. It’s not the high-efficiency sleep-oriented wank you usually rush through, not this time.

You unspool memories of the day with each brush of your fingertips over moisturized skin. You hum as your skin tingles, imagining Konig’s calloused palms in place of yours. He’d be so surprisingly gentle, you’re sure. Big, strong hands but he’d play with you like a precious toy. Plucking your nipples and scratching his blunt nails over the plush of your hips.

As your breathing picks up, you see Krueger’s broad shoulders flexing behind your eyelids. Imagine them bullying between your thighs, hooking your knees over. That bright glint in his eye as he smirks against your cunt. Can practically feel the curl of his tongue around your clit, eating you out messy and mean.

You’re already halfway there when you curl two fingers into your pussy. You’re so wet that your fingers slip and slide, squelch lewdly as you rock your hips, trying to find just the right angle.

You imagine Nikto clicking his tongue at your struggle. Almost hear his low, hoarse voice chiding you for doing his job while he takes over. His fingers are so much thicker than yours, you have to press a third in just to maintain the fantasy.

You want to lean back against his broad chest while he strokes your walls, listen to him and Krueger and Konig talk about you like you’re not even there, debating if you should come. Ignore you as you beg and whimper, big hands pinning you down while they draw it out.

Please, please, please…

You clap a hand over your mouth just in time, hips jerking so hard that it makes your wrist ache.

Whoops.

Well, you doubt anyone heard. It’s pretty late, and you’re on the second story anyway.

Already sleepy, you’re too lazy to close the window after a pre-bed stop in the restroom. It’s such a nice night, after all.

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[evilbarking]

tiktok is actually killing me

i posted a video about wanting some weird ass gear (muzzle + literal dog food) and the whole point of the video was poking fun at me being strange about what i wanted and.

there are so many comments like "um i'm a therian but this is weird :/" or "i'm a therian but like i'm NORMAL" or "i'm a therian but i don't actually think im an animal lmfao"

OHBMY GOD AHUT UP IM GOING TO START HITTING PEOPLE WITH HAMMERS. like. OH MY GOD.

i'm actually gonna TWEAK i genuinely cannot do this anymore any time someone posts about therianthropy and they're not wearing a mask or doing quadrobics or something aesthetically pleasing that doesn't imply they actually identify as an animal kintok throws them into oncoming traffic

[inkyquince]

I just saw a post about parents building their son a cool new bed and being excited for him and his special interest is dinosaurs and you can tell and I was hit by insane baby fever

So I'm just thinking about Eden, hand making your kid's bed. Carving each piece of wood, whittling tiny designs in it. Your kid is getting too big for the cot and he'd rather die than have them in bed with you two so he sits, bare foot and surrounded by different pieces of lumber, perfectly measured to slot together and puts it all together.

Avery, who orders your kid a new bed, making sure it's one of the cool ones. A bunk bed with a lil play area underneath, with safe stairs for them to climb down from instead of a ladder. He bought the cot and made sure it was aesthetically pleasant, soft white painted wood and all pretty but loves your kid enough to indulge. Has other people build it while they're at school but watches you excitedly set up the play area and tucking their toys in and making up the bed. Something in him feels it's because you didn't get to be excited about a new bed. The other part brushes it over and kisses the back of your neck.

Wren yelling fuck as he hammers his thumb again. Grumbling loudly. Whines for a kiss every time you pop your head in. Wren was going to buy a cheap IKEA bed and make it up cool but Remy caught wind and sent over one of those fucking beds that takes forever to put together, has drawers built into it, everything. Remy smoothly told you it's because he makes sure his people are happy but Wren knows for a fuckin fact that it's because he already owned it and wanted to get it out of the manor. He's more excited to pick out sheets and new toys, because a kid needs a cool fuckin bed!

Bailey leaving halfway through, crumpling up the instructions. Snaps at you to leave him alone when he leaves the house. You feel uneasy, and try to take over, but shit, it's complicated... Where the hell is slot G? What's rod C? Its not even funny to make it into a sex joke anymore. You sit there, desperately checking the time, wanting your kid to get to come home to a upgraded bed after nagging Bailey to stop being a cheapskate. Then the door flings open and arguing voices spill over each other. The asshole drags his friends who all currently owe him a favour in, making them help him or god HELP THEM, he will start throwing hands. Briar idly questions your choice in the design, as Harper SWEATS, bullied into being the one who holds up the balancing edge of the bed frame. Remy and Bailey arguing about instructions and are so close to hitting each other until Wren smugly points out they've been reading it upside down. When it's actually put together, they all go to the kitchen and steal your beers as Briar stays behind and idly watches you make up the bed, offering tips on how to make it look cosier.

And of course your kid lets themselves in with their key, ignores all the men who did the work and flings themselves into your arms, babbling out thanks yous for the cool new bed! The ensemble quietly reminds each other to get vasectomies and Bailey just gives you the evil eye.

[mistydeyes]

smth abt your recent 141 post gave me a thought.

somebody need to get these boys into a club, flashing lights, music and dancing, fun drinks and flashy y2k reader who’s lowkey an absolute party animal?? or an ex party animal, teehee anyways,,

imagine how fun it’d be dragging johnny onto the dance floor, drunkenly screaming that “this is my FAVORITE song!!”

i just see fics of them at bars and i just need to see them up in a club😫😫

thank you so much for requesting! i LOVE drunken club energy so much (something about going to a club and drinking a weak rum and coke on a thirsty thursday really does it for me). this totally fit the vibe of a previous request so please enjoy a little cameo of the best 2000s aesthetic character, Storm!

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: The 141 decides to allow you to pick the place for some drinks while on leave. You take the opportunity to get absolutely hammered and sing your heart out to some 2000s hits.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x reader (codename: Storm)

warnings: swearing

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

"I thought they said we were going for drinks," Gaz shouted to Ghost over the loud 2000s dance music that blared on the dance floor. Gaz had found his way back to Price and Ghost after you had dragged him to the beats of Low by Flo Rida. After the chorus, you and your low-rise jeans and Harley Davis tiny top had disappeared with Soap in hand. He figured you would emerge eventually as he took a large gulp of his beer that appeared to be hot pink underneath the neon lights. "I am never letting Storm pick again," Ghost said and Gaz strained to hear him. But by the look of how drunk he was getting over the sugary drinks, it was clear Ghost was trying to make the most out of the experience.

"Here they come," Price yelled, almost as if he was delivering a warning, as you emerged from the crowd. Sweat coated your face and perfectly complicated the loose glitter from your makeup and the mingling crowd. Soap followed close behind, somehow losing his shirt after the three-minute song. "What happened out there?" Simon couldn't help but ask as you and Soap chugged the remainder of your dirty shirleys. "Met some Scousers," Soap breathlessly answered, "shirt went with 'em." The group laughed loudly as Soap fanned his sweating torso. "How'd you find this place, Storm?" Gaz asked, leaning forward closer to the group. "Went here a lot in sixth form and the summer before enlisting," you answered. You remembered the long nights and the hoarse voices you left with. You also remembered the paracetamol and glass of water affectionately left on your bedside table.

You continued to exchange wild stories about your drunken adventures including the time you threw up in someone's designer Juicy Couture bag. "And you still party like a teenager," Price couldn't help but tease as you threw your head back in laughter. "Don't see you complaining about all the compliments you've been getting, Captain," you quipped back. Almost on schedule, a young woman passed by the Captain and sent an air kiss his way with her glossed lips. You held your drink in the air and shared a toast with the group as you celebrated the woman's flirtations. Before Price could respond back, you could hear the beginning of your favorite early 2000s hits.

You jumped up, sloshing the drinks on the small metallic table. "Oh my god," you screamed, "this is my favorite song!" Unfortunately for Price and Soap, they were the nearest to you and your hands immediately began tugging them to the dance floor. Your sneakers squeaked against the floor as Soap relented but Price remained firmly in place. "I'm too old for this," Price said as he shook his head in dismay. "Whatever," you rolled your eyes, letting him fall back onto the plush couch, "but the next time there's a Britney song, I better see your boonie hat on the floor."

[bbina]

the subtle warmth of sunlight that crept through the window slowly stirs you awake. you scrunch your face as you try to block it with your hand before feeling a sharp pain pierce through your head

slowly, you open your eyes. the first thing you see were glow in the dark stars stuck on the ceiling. you blink for a moment, trying to remember if you guys even got back to your airbnb last night

what kind of airbnb still had glow in the dark stars stuck on their ceiling? 

“eunseok!” you call out, wincing at the immense pounding sensation in your head. oh yeah, you forgot you all drank last night. 

you look around the room to look for your phone til you notice neatly folded clothes just by the foot of the bed.

wait a second, that was the clothes you wore last night.. if your clothes were washed, then what were you currently wearing?

instantly, you look down on yourself and held your breath when you realize you were wearing someone else’s clothes. 

in a surge of panic, you sat up. wrong move on your part cause now your head feels like it’s being hammered down with a hammer. damn this killer hangover. how much did you even drink last night?

you then take in your surroundings. walls painted sky blue, stars stuck on the ceiling, band posters everywhere and a red guitar sitting quietly at the corner of the room. there can only be one person in mind who seemingly fit the aesthetics of the room

your eyes then fall to the bedside table. there laid a glass of water and some pain medications with a note.

“by the time you read this note, i’ve probably already left the house to do some errands so don’t worry about seeing me around. you probably have a lot of questions but let me make this short and quick; you got drunk, passed out and your brother suggested you’d stay at my house til your airbnb was available. i left a glass of water by the bedside table and some pain medications for your hangover (you drank too much than you can handle) so make sure to drink up before you leave

don’t forget to lock the door when you go

— W” 

“oh my fucking god..” you cursed, the realization that you were in fact in wonbin’s house, in ulsan, wearing his clothes on his bed in his room.

between the lines ★ sober thoughts

⤷ from what started as a simple arrangement to hide your feelings for a certain someone by getting into in a fake relationship soon turns into a tangled mess. in which some things are hard to tell when you can’t read between the lines

 ˗ˏˋ prev | next  ˎˊ˗

★ notes .ᐟ wasssapppp remember the poll? yeah the poll did not matter cus we got the best of both worlds!! heollllll

★ taglist .ᐟ @callanton @annswwa @renjuneoo @pinkraindropsfell @lecheugo @ilovejungwonandhaechan @ahnneyong @haechansbbg @snowyseungs @sseastar-main @odxrilove @leeknowarchives @onlywonb @wonychu @leehanascent @jaeyunsb @au-ghosttype @revehosh @keilovr @kyusqult @dreamyyyz @ether-yeol @yangasm @qwonbani @starwonb1n @ffixtionista @daegale @scrumptiousloser @seunghancore @marksluvs @wonbinfiles @ohmykwonsoonyoung @reenfluffmarshmallow @bunni @artstaeh @yizhoutv @sie17136 @koeuh @07yujin @poollabug @vernonburger @dutifullyannoyingfox @000rpheus @wccycc @sunus-sun @highhjime @chweverni @toosspicy @heartlvrrss @s9nwoo @yoursyuno @stanriize01 @rosesfortaro @lampcults @alwayswook

[aechii]

₍⁠₍ OF LOVE AND FASHiON ₎⁠₎

A/N ?! last fic for the day booooo 😥 i dont know if i will be able to post any tmrrw, but i hope i can. anyways enjoy my lovelies

p.s. there's a little written part in this but it's abt 500-600 words

-

-

[y/n]'s heart's racing. every palpitation hammers against her chest with much force, so much so that her full-upon-entry water has decreased to less than half left in just 30 minutes. the heat still fused with the air, but as the sun begins to sleep, it loses its energy, leaving a cool undercurrent that presses into the skin of all the attendees. she's so glad about the cooler weather, finding it completely unfathomable how she would've coped if the heat joined tham at night as well.

but the man seated beside her crashes all of her composure, and her body begins to feel hot and strangled.

she hasn't seen such a visually blessed male specimen in all the years of her living, and the fact that his body was so close to hers because of the crammed seating made matters worse. she can't think, breathe or concentrate on the influx of dressed models that come and go non-stop.

"you look disgusted."

the voice comes from right beside her, and her head whips around, startled. the man that has enraptured her entire conscience smiles goofily at her, and her heart wavers.

"what? me?"

"yes," he chuckles softly, "you."

his eyes turn back to the show before them, yet he continues speaking before [y/n] can justify herself, "i don't blame you, though. some of the outfits are... questionable."

his facial expressions are priceless, and [y/n] falls into a bout of laughter, "you're sick!"

he looks on seriously, eyes flashing with extreme judgement, "i'm not lying! how does anyone find pairing a skirt and baggy trousers aesthetic?"

the combination, that [y/n] had, most likely, missed from being consumed by her thoughts, makes her grimace, "yeah, that wasn't a good look at all."

he turns back to face her and, god, he stares so intently that she has to look away.

"speaking of outfits, what brand you wearing? 'cause i know it's not lv for sure, i'm not seeing any," he thinks of the right words, "over exposure of the logo."

"that's one way to put it," [y/n] snickers, looking down at her outfit, "i made it all myself... apart from the shoes of course."

the boy is taken aback, mouth agape and eyes wide, "no way!"

she begins to feel flustered by his reaction and just smiles.

"that's so cool, honestly. i would take more pride in that than wearing a slutted out luxury brand."

"slutted out?" [y/n] can't believe her ears; he's going to kill her, she's sure.

"how the hell did you come up that?!"

the boy purses his lips, looking smug, "i'm just that amazing."

"you're delusional."

he pretends to think for a moment, "delusional enough to think i'd get your number?"

[y/n]'s eyebrows shot up, "you want... my number?"

he doesn't hesitate to nod, "i don't think i'll be leaving without it."

jobe, who had been painfully listening in on their conversation, decides to make himself apparent, "don't do it, you'll regret it."

she turns around, coming face to face with a younger boy who looks almost identical to the one she had been speaking with for the past 15 minutes.

"you two brothers?"

the older one responds, "yeah, he's a cockblock though, don't listen to him."

"cockblock? jude, i'm trying to save her life!"

ah, so that's his name.

"clear off, jobe," he rolls his eyes, turning back to the girl sitting beside him, "sorry about that- so, your number?"

"don't do it!"

and much to his dismay, she does.

-

y/n_l/n

liked by judebellingham and 23,899 others

y/n_l/n paris photo dump !! met some cool ass people there lowkey

view comments...

judebellingham was lovely meeting you, such a vibe 😆

y/n_l/n you too!! <3

yfn__ best time of my life honestly

y/n_l/n paris at night is a sight to see

user1 you look GORGEOUS

user2 i really missed pfw just a day after i left france </3

user3 JUDE????

user4 I'M ACTUALLY SO SHOCKED

user5 😮

user6 WE FOUND HERRRRR

user7 and jude beat me to it already 😐

-

-

-

judebellingham

liked by y/n_l/n and 899,231 others

judebellingham ❤🇫🇷

view comments...

y/n_l/n love the after party candid, send it to me plz xx + tell jobe i'm sorry but not sorry

judebellingham you look so pretty in it ofc + he'll see it anyways xx y/n_l/n @/judebellingham stop plz 😭🛑 jobebellingham @/y/n_l/n buy me croissaints and maybe i'll forgive you

jadonsancho freshh 🔥

user1 who's that girl in the last pic????

user2 someone who he met at the lv show, got her number and everthingggg 😭

user3 AND SHE KNOWS JOBE TOO? that's my chance stripped unrightfully away from me </3

user4 icel, she's gorgeous AAAAA

user5 this is my 13th reason

[acourtofthought]

I saw this Elriel post saying Elriel is basically Elorcan and honestly now I'm kinda conflicted because I loved them 🥺

Do you think she would pull an Elorcan with them? Or do you think Elucien will pull through with the reluctant mates trope? I've seen so much from both sides that I honestly don't even know what I want anymore lol I think I just want ANY book

The above is something Lorcan said to Elide in one of his dreams and a strong possibility for why he was willing to tie his immortal life to her mortal one.

Lorcan has no other mate, Elide has no other mate therefore him believing she might be his mate can not be challenged. He wants to be with her believing he's meant to be with her. Elucien's bond is confirmed, Az can scent it, Feyre confirmed it when she slipped into his head and Mor used her gift of truth on Lucien (the only reason he was allowed to enter Velaris / their home).

Lorcan believed Elide was his mate because of the way he felt for her. Az thought the Cauldron might be wrong because he's the third brother and his two brothers were with two of the sisters so why shouldn't he get the third sister? He never once spoke of actual feelings for Elain, he never even mentioned a single thing he liked about her outside of her beauty and the way her arousal smelled. He didn't give her credit for her bravery, for how she stood up to Nesta, how she saved his life, how she saved Nesta and Cassian's life, he never asked her how she was coping after her fathers death, if she still missed Graysen, how she was feeling after her fights with Nesta, etc. Az wanted a mating bond like his brothers because he thought that would have been the fair thing, Lorcan thought he might be Elide's mate because of Elide and only Elide.

That is not the same thing. Also, Elide was a bit dark in her personality which is why she was a match to Lorcan who was associated with death. She had a disability which prevented her from doing the things she wanted to do. Elain has no such physical disability but she avoids cruelty because it bothers her. Whereas Nesta gruesomely behead the king in revenge, Elain stabbed him, a killing blow, but only to the extent that was necessary and nothing more. Elide was never mentioned as being a gentle grower of things, with life shining in her eyes, who had a love of nature and flowers, who craved sunshine in the way Elain is. Lorcan and Az might be similar but Elide and Elain are very different. As far as reluctant mates. Nobody knows what Sarah will do but reluctant mates is a lot more of a sure thing in fiction than truly rejected mating bonds. I can name many authors who have gone the route of reluctant mates but I can't think of a single book or best selling author where a FMC rejected her mate and the series / book ended with the rejection sticking.

In terms of aesthetic, I think Sarah really hammered it home for us when she wrote CC. Solas - the Sun God was the lover of Cthona - the Earth Goddess. Lucien is set up to be the heir to the Day throne with Helion being described as the sun personified and Elain is definitely a lot like Cthona in terms of imagery.

[meanbossart]

DU drow asks time

Lore questions/sweet messages/stuff that made me laugh that's about DU drow specifically that I decided to compile in a single post!

First of all, "outraged to be used as a medium for old man gay divorce" is a hysterical sentence LOL

As for his thoughts on the Ansur debacle? Negative ones. He hates the emperor, he doesn't care about his third-time-twist real identity, he doesn't particularly care about Wyll either (well - he kind of finds him entertaining, he's kind of really frustrated by him, it's complicated) but he saved his dad on a whim to spite Mizora anyway. BUT HEY, all that trouble would have been worthwhile if he's about to get an ancient dragon fighting alongside him - this old duke sounds a little too confident in this fairy tale, but stranger things have happened, right?

Then the situation unfolds as it does, and if he wasn't eager enough to use that orphic hammer before, he certainly is now. There is very little that the Emperor does past Act 3 that DU drow doesn't find a way to twist into something that confirms his resolve against him. If he could have taken Ansur's side in that fight, he would have - not that he shed any tears over killing him either.

Sick sword though, that helped soothe his nerves a bit and I'm sure spared everyone a little bit of a tantrum at camp later.

HAHAHAHA I can't confirm nor deny because I see so few large body-type elves as it is (which is fair, elves aren't usually... That massive). I did set age to 50% because it does look a little weird when it's all smooth. Maybe that's the trick?

Though I guess if you find it unsettling, then... No wonder it suits him! however this just looks like an impressively handsome fella to me, to be honest. I insist on fucking him up further whenever I draw him for that reason.

Thank you so much for following along and for giving the fic a try!!! And no worries, english isn't my native tongue either so I've been there 😎👍

I do actually have a couple of very short comics planned that take place pre-tadpole, but my backlog of WIPs is... Massive. Not to mention the commission work I do (currently not taking any more). I have one that's about his first interaction with Orin and another about a business dinner with Gortash gone-wrong, but I have no clue when I'll be able to work on them. Hopefully soon though!

You know, I've always hoped that after I died I'd be remembered as the guy who inspired others to make their nipples card-swipe-able.

Joke's aside, thank you LOL I love that my guys' nips have taken up non-insignificant room in your mind, it's always comforting to know that you aren't the only one.

Piercings and the such aren't really his style though. While he finds his scar-work weirdly comforting, he isn't so interested in aesthetic results as much as he just enjoys having pain inflicted upon him in a controlled environment, by people that he loves - He doesn't recall this post-tadpole, but the scars were a result of a kind of... Recurring ritual between himself and Orin that served to replace normal intimacy, pretty much.

Since you touched on it though, I do like to believe that Astarion finds his cut-up body fun, both on the eyes and on the hands LOL.

I'm starting to think you guys are all in on this. It's like the fifth time someone catches me in the act - god damn it, is it that obvious that I wanna slide down Peter Steele's cold corpse like he's a a ride at the Magical Ice kingdom... Which is to say, yes, both the guy and his music are not-so-lowkey a big inspiration behind a lot of DU drow's characterization!

That's all for now folks, thank you so much for the asks!!! This isn't all of them but I try not to spam people's feeds when I can help it/space them out. I see all of your messages and I guarantee you that if I have an interesting answer for them, you will see a reply eventually!

[thebeautyofspn]

5x19 Hammer Of The Gods

[artbyblastweave]

Ask game: Birds of Prey (movie)

Has the honorable distinction of being the last film I saw in a movie theatre- Covid hit immediately afterwards like the hammer of god, and I just never got back into the habit. Anyway, BoP (fun acronym) is at the forefront of what I was talking about when I was saying that the DCEU has been a lot more willing to trust the audience to just roll with the idea that they're depicting a superhero universe where this stuff has been going on for a while. A mid-tier second-generation superhuman is working as a nightclub singer and it ranks as a mild curiosity. A new vigilante roles into town and starts killing people with a crossbow and whaddyagonna do, that's Gotham for you. Batman is around, somewhere, but presumably he was handling something else at the time. Harley Quinn is a local character, she just level-cleared a police precinct, must be Tuesday. Roman Sionis has some kind of weird mask gimmick, alright, it's cringey but within understood aesthetic parameters for this town. I mean don't get me wrong, if I were more of a dedicated Birds-of-Prey partisan I'd be calling for the heads of everyone involved in this film, where is Oracle, Why is Harley here, why is Cassandra Cain characterized Like That. But, you know, in a total vacuum it was an enjoyable couple of hours. No franchise was launched. On to the next

[justjams2003]

Between two Gods-4

Paring: Alpha!Thor Odinson x Omega!Reader x Alpha! Clark Kent

Warnings: A/B/O, mating, breeding, threesome, oral sex (both male and female receiving) P in V. Mxm, mxmxw, afab!reader, possessive!Thor, possessive!Clark, guys kissing, rutting, knotting

Masterlist

Part 3~Part 5 (coming soon)

Word count: 2k

Dividers: @benkeibear @poison-aesthetics

When your mates are two gods, your heat is something of a girl’s wet dream. It was honestly more enjoyable than any daydream. Your mates took a week off and in turn your heat was spent with day and nights of knotting. By the end of it, you had to buy a new bed and also new bed sheets. It was rare for any of you to be wearing clothes, except when eating of course.  

You ensured that the moment your heat finished, that you three went house shopping. Though, you struggled to choose. If it was by the woods, it doesn’t have a farm like Clark wants. If it has a farm, it isn’t by the forest, like you want. And if it has both, it isn’t big enough like Thor wants. It was starting to frustrate you. Your own bachelor flat is growing small, especially with all the boxes standing around.  

Or maybe it’s more than that that is irritating you. “Thor! You’re late. Now dinner is cold, and I’ve already packed the plates away. Cold pizza and paper plates for you.” You scold at the God of Thunder, not even greeting him. He frowns, turning to his fellow Alpha. He drops his hammer and hangs up his cape.  

He shakes his head and then, without warning, pulls you closer by the waist and giving you the most passionate kiss. And when you come up for air, the anger has dissipated from your eyes. “Hello, my dear omega. Why yes, I have missed you, my dear.” He gives you his charming smile and then your legs are Jello.   

He then lets you go, after hearing your phone call. He sits down on the couch next to the other Alpha. “Hello, my pretty boy.” Thor smiles, lifting Kal’s chin and giving him a sloppy kiss. “What’s got our girl so fussy?” He asks, pulling the other alien into his side. “It’s the same as yesterday, we’d gone to 5 more house showings and none of them were ‘just right’.”  

“Hi mom,” You call into the phone after picking up Martha’s call. “Hello dear, so nice to hear from you stranger.” You can’t help but laugh. You’ve gotten really close to her over the past few years. “Yeah, I’m sorry. We’ve been so busy. You’d be really happy to hear that we’re trying for pups.” You can hear the excited squeal from the phone.  

“That is such good news!” You can hear the birds in the background. “Not only that, but we’re looking for a new house. Clark wants a farm, Thor wants a million pups so a million rooms and I want something by the forest. Our apartment is already packed up but we haven’t bought any house yet.” She sighs, looking at the state of her normally neat apartment.  

Martha is quiet for a moment. “Why don’t you move in with me?” She asks, and you bite your lip. “I have the farm, it’s right by the forest and it has 6 bedrooms. One for me, one for you three. That leaves four extra bedrooms.” It’s sounds almost too good to be true. It’s exactly what they want. “I’m growing old and I miss the company.” She adds, trying to win you over.  

“Hold on.” You put your own mother-in-law on hold. You scatter over to your partners, plopping in both of their laps. “What if we move in with Clark’s mom? She has the big empty house, the farm, the forest.” You give them the biggest doe eyes you can muster, pushing out your bottom lip.  

“Of course, my lady, whatever makes you happy.” Clark gives a similar reply to Thor. You return to the phone call. “It sounds like a fantastic deal. The boys agree. We can’t wait!” You squeal out, hugging your partners closer before finally saying goodbye to Martha.  

You yawn, stretching out your body. The boys didn’t allow you to lift a single box and yet you still feel exhausted. You’re starving but there is nothing that seems like it would stay down. “Are you alright, dear?” Martha ask, handing her a glass of water. “I don’t know, I’m just so tired and so hungry but so nauseous.” You mutter, swallowing the stomach acid with the water.  

“Dear, that doesn’t just sound like fatigue or a stomach bug.... You said you already had your heat, yes?” You can only nod to her question. “Lucky for you, I prepared for this. There is pregnancy test in your ensuite.” Your feet moved faster than your body. Your partners went to get dinner, not wanting you or Martha to cook after a long day of unpacking.  

You wait in anticipation, sitting on the bathroom floor waiting for the timer to go off. And when it finally does, you feel the panic rise in your throat. Why you’re panicking, you’re not entirely sure. Maybe that once Thor knows, he’s taking you straight to Asgard, no questions. Your legs are shaky, you grab the test from the counter.  

Two pink lines.  

Pregnant. Very pregnant.  

There is a knock at the door. “Hello dear, dinner is here.” It’s Clark, relief forms in your stomach. Your shaky hands open the door. You have to tell them. They’re your Alpha’s. They know what is right for you and your pup. “Are you okay?” He asks, wiping the tears which had fallen without your knowledge.  

Your only reply to him, is the tick in your hand. His brows furrow before you clarify it to him. “I’m pregnant.” It takes a moment to realise in his head, before he scoops you up into his arms. He gasps and yells with glee. So much so that Thor comes running up the stairs. “What is the matter?” He asks, seeing your close embrace.  

“We’re going to be dads!” Kal exclaims, knowing just how choked up you are. A huge grin covers Thor’s face. He pics the both of you up in a huge bear hug. “I can’t believe it!” Tears are forming in his eyes and it too makes you want to cry even more.

“We must haste for Asgard, at once.” Thor exclaims, looking to repack all your clothes. Or even leave them there and dress you completely in Asgardian clothes. Both you and Clark.  

Clark places a hand on Thor’s shoulder. “Please, Thor. We’ve just moved, she hasn’t even had chance to nest yet. I’m sure she wants to tell her brothers too, before we leave.” He reasons, he could smell the anxiety coming from you when Thor came up the stairs. He knows going to Asgard is for the best but, certainly it can wait? 

It doesn’t much but two pairs of whimpering eyes for Thor to cave. “Fine. But we’re not staying past the first trimester.” His voice is stern and there is a hint of Alpha voice. The other mates bare their neck, showing that they submit to these rules. “Can we invite my brothers then, next week?” You ask, placing your hand on his chest.  

“Only if we get kisses.” Clark commands and you smirk at his dominance. He’s so soft at times, you do appreciate it, he and Thor balance each other out perfectly. With that you obey his order. Giving them both a deep sloppy kiss.  

The sun shines through the bright balcony, the sheer white curtains blow in the wind. The bedsheets are dispersed and tangled between legs and arms. All you can see is blue. The light, sky blue of Thor’s eyes, avoiding your own. Then the rich, navy blue of Clark’s, also watching your Alpha’s move carefully.  

Like Thor said, the day after your brothers left, he’d packed up everything and transported you to Asgard. Frigga was so excited to see you again. It was rare that you went to Asgard and it was usually short and sweet visits. You’ve never been here for more than a week and now you’re stuck here for nine months.  

You can feel the burn between your legs, and the sticky mess coating your body still. “Do you have to go?” Clark asks, reaching out for Thor’s hand. The blonde god takes his hand and places a gentle kiss. “I do, I do apologize my loves, but my father has called for me.” He takes your hand and places a kiss as well.  

It’s a strange feeling. Back on earth, whenever Thor was home the both of you would have his full attention. Now that he is back home, everyone wants his attention. His duties as Prince and Alpha take more of his concentration that you thought it would. You’re glad you have your other Alpha, but still.  

When Thor’s gone, you miss him. When Clark’s gone, you miss him.  

Then he bends down and plants a soft kiss on your stark-naked belly, there’s rarely a bump, rubbing circles before eventually standing back up. “Love you, my loves,” he waves goodbye before leaving for his day of duties. You groan at the sunlight and roll over into Clark’s arms.  

He lets out a chuckle and soon he hears your snores again. The maids come in soon though and he asks them to fill the tub. When the time comes, he picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bathroom. “Noo, let me sleep.” You complain, but when the hot water hits your back the complains die down.  

Soon enough, Superman joins you in the tub. But the silence is so loud and you finally decide enough is enough when Clark lets out a loud sigh. “What’s wrong, my Alpha?” You ask, enjoying his touch as he washes your legs. “Just that. I’m an Alpha, I’m a superhero. I’m the Superman.” You furrow your brows but allow him to speak.  

Again, he sighs, “I spent every day of my life protecting the people of Earth, before you, before Thor. Now, I’m here, mating day and night with lavish amenities and maids attending to my every need.” You can’t help but chuckle and lift yourself into his lap.  

“Oh, my dear, are you feeling a bit unimportant?” You coo, wrapping his curls around your fingers. He laughs again, “Something like that. I can’t help but worry about them. They’re just so destructive to themselves.” Now you really howl at his words.  

He blushes at your laughter. “My love, you do not owe them anything. Their own eradication is not your fault. Think of it like this, when Thor becomes king, the people’s own slaughter will be his fault. Because they chose him to be their protector. The other humans, did not chose you.”  

You smile, hoping that you’re not sounding too insensitive. Also hoping that the words you speak of the Asgardians will never happen. He doesn’t answer, only drawing circles on your skin. “You threw that onto your shoulders only because you’re stronger.”  

He can’t help but grin, you just know him so well. He groans and hides his face in the crook of your neck. “But they’re so fragile!” You roll your eyes at him. “If they’re so fragile, then I’m so fragile! So very weak, a weak human omega. Is that what you’re going to say to your child?”  

Clark knows he’s really dug himself a hole now. “Huh? When your little boy looks up at you and says, ‘daddy I want to be like you some day,’ will you look down and say, ‘no, you’re weak, you half human.’?” It’s a rhetorical question but you can tell he still believes it.  

“No?” He seems uncertain of himself. “Yes, no.” You nod to him, trying to guide him to the right answer. “No, I want you and our pups to stay home forever so that we can protect you. I’m sure Thor agrees.” He nods with a shit eating grin. You shake your head. “Quite the opposite, he’s very excited to take them into battle.”  

Clark’s face goes pale, “The pups will grow up. They will spread their wings and will refuse to listen. They will get hurt. But they will learn from it and so must the humans.” He sighs and pecks your mouth. “What will we do without you?” He asks, picking you up out of the bath after cleaning you.  

“You’d work for 160 hours a week and the other eight hours you’d just have hot gay sex.” You giggle to yourself; the pregnancy has made your tongue a little lose. Clark clicks his tongue at you, “You’ve got such a filthy mouth.” You can’t help but wink at him, “You should know.”  

[overthegardenwirtt]

my ranking of iwtv episodes:

also: this is mainly based off of aesthetics and episodes I enjoy watching the most. this isn't like which ones are objectively better or a judgement of the story. also i'm separating the rankings of seasons bc i that takes too much work mentally for me to think about.

season 1

episode 1 in throes of increasing wonder: beautiful, showstopping, catholicism, best pilot in the world, etc etc

episode 7 the thing lay still: bloodbath at the end is so pretty, love claudia and lestat playing 4d chess with each other while louis just struggles

episode 5 a vile hunger for your hammering heart: the fight scene is too heartwrenching. also the scene where the cops are searching the townhouse is one of the best scenes of the show

episode 6 like angels put in hell by god: a slower one, but the train scene + the chess scene + polynesian mary's flashback pushes this one up

episode 4 the ruthless pursuit of blood with all a child's demanding: claudiaaaaaa <3

episode 3 is my very nature that of the devil: see below

episode 2 after the phantoms of your former self: i love both of these episodes i really do, they're just definitely more exposition-y and not my favorites aesthetically

season 2

episode 5 don't be afraid, just start the tape: do i even need to explain this one?

episode 6 with the light by which god made the world before he made light: arguably the best episode of the season. we need emma freeman to come back. actually visually stunning from start to finish and claudeleine destroyed me.

episode 7 i could not prevent it: perfect episode only reason it's not first is bc i didn't aesthetically vibe with it as much as eps 5 & 6

episode 3 no pain: this is also kinda a perfect episode. just exploring all the dynamics bt armand, louis, and lestat was so cool and it felt so cohesive start to finish

episode 4 i want you more than anything in the world: claudeleine + armand's museum speech made this episode

episode 2 do you know what it means to be loved by death: lots of exposition, loved ben daniel's performance

episode 1 what can the damned really say to the damned: aesthetically not my thing but the scene where they kill emilia actually made me cry

episode 8 and that's the end of it. there's nothing else: once again i didn't vibe with it aesthetically and it doesn't feel as cohesive as the other episodes. it might grow on me in time

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - chapter 11 - Gale’s POV

The glowing orange sun begins to set beautifully, causing an aura of lavender and rose in the sky, and I can tell Emmy has reached the point of overexhaustion. We decided to camp one last time before we make it home tomorrow; we thought we would make it home today. Luckily, we’re close and we don’t have much longer before we arrive back at our sweet home in Waterdeep. I already miss Tara, our comfortable bed, and the balcony that stands above the bright, glistening ocean with soft waves that sing such a calm song. I’m imagining the reflection of the moonlight upon the water with the love of my life beside me as we admire it. I’m picturing our new child being curled up on my chest as we inhale the air of the salt water. We haven’t been away long, but I already miss the romantic and calm aesthetic of our tower that stands above the sea. I’ve always appreciated it, but after being abducted by the nautiloid, I’ve learned to appreciate it even more.

Having Emmy in my arms as we rest is the most comforting feeling that I love, and will continue to love for the rest of my life as long as we’re both alive. I did not realize how exhausted I was. As I hold her close to me, watching her sleep in my arms, it isn’t long until the soft chirps of crickets cause me to pass out and drift into a heavy slumber filled with solace. I’m so tired, my body is practically numb and my eyes are full of tears from the constant yawning.

When morning arises, I open my eyes to see Emmy is not in my arms. She’s normally awake much later than I am, so I’m wondering if she just had trouble sleeping. I crawl out of the tent, noticing Karlach and Wyll eating, but no sight of my wife anywhere.

“Have you guys seen Emmy? How long have you been awake?”

“We’ve been awake for a couple hours now. We both went to snag some food for all of us, but haven’t seen her once,” Wyll says. “We assumed she was in the tent with you. Not a sight of her since we’ve been awake.”

“Oh my Gods… Do you think Raphael got her?” Karlach murmurs, covering her face with her hands. Fear sinks within me as I come to the realization that’s more than likely what happened, since she doesn’t appear to be nearby. It’s not like her to run off and not come back. My stomach begins to turn as I try not to think about what he could have done with her. Of course he would come when we least expect it and snag her when she’s most vulnerable, when she’s alone in the forest. He knows she’s weak, he knows she can’t fight. Devils are always watching.

“More than likely you’re correct,” I say. “She probably got up to use the bathroom and that’s when she was snatched. The opportunity presented itself when she couldn’t be protected. Damn it! How do we reach him? I should have felt her get up.”

It’s taking everything in me not to have a manic episode, though it’s a challenge seeing as she could possibly be dead. No, Gale. She’s alive. She’s well. She’s pregnant with my baby – our baby – so it worries me that Raphael is getting exactly what he wanted, that maniacal, manipulative bastard. If I know anything about Raphael besides his diabolical tactics, it’s that he will hold her hostage and torture her like he did with Hope, a halfling we rescued from his home when we first broke in to steal the orphic hammer. It’s a long story, really.

“It looks like we have everything to summon ourselves to his home, but we’re missing the metal that goes in the center,” Karlach says, searching through her bag. “Son of a nutcracker, nothing!”

“Can’t we use a soul coin?” Wyll suggests. “It’s made of the same metal as the one we need for the summoning circle.”

“You son of a duke, that’s why I love you! Well, for other reasons too, of course.” Unfortunately, while I’m skilled in the arcane and would consider myself a rather good cook, I cannot draw a summoning circle for the life of me. Invading a devil’s home isn’t exactly a skill of mine that I hone.

“Could one of you draw a summoning circle and I’ll put in the material?” You can hear the hurt and brokenness in my voice, and Karlach and Wyll look at each other with worried eyes. Karlach places her hand on my shoulder, her eyes demanding my attention.

“Of course, Gale. Just so you know, it’s going to be alright. Deep breaths, Papa Dekarios, I’m sure she’s okay.”

“Thank you, Karlach.” As they draw the summoning circle, I begin to dissociate and visualize Emmy’s smile on our wedding day, the shine in her eyes as she stares at me with desire, the way her dark, curly hair falls behind her head as I say my vows. I can’t forget her cheek bones and the way they plump up as she smiles. The moment I placed my hand on her cheek before kissing her was my favorite moment to ever exist. I think about the moment she told me she was pregnant, how I suddenly got this overwhelming sense of protection. Fear sinks in as well as my protective instincts as Wyll shakes my shoulder gently.

“You ready, NightinGALE?” Wyll says, then immediately regrets his joke. I smile, still filled with worry and a pound of sickness within me as I walk toward the circle. It begins to light up, flames rising up as we’re being surrounded by flames, a horrific wave of magic causing our bodies to glow, and before I know it we disintegrate into the realm.

Being stuck in the in-between area of our world and Hell is quite a horrific trip I did not ever want to be in again, but for the sake of my wife and baby’s lives, I need to do what I have to do. I hear the deafening screeches of imps, piercing my ear drums as we drown into the Hells. I don’t know what lies ahead of us or what our ultimate goal is, but I really hope we can bargain with Raphael, though it seems our chances are rather slim given our past with him.

It’s like one giant flash of light, as if my soul is being transferred to the afterlife, my body being completely separated from what’s inside of me. Flames are consuming us for a minute, but I finally find myself in the home of Raphael. Luckily, Emmy is right there when we arrive, her body chained to the wall with soul chains. These are the exact same chains that were used to lock up Dame Aylin. Raphael, unfortunately, is also in the same room and it appears he’s interrogating her for something – maybe a deal of some sort. I gasp, watching her squirm for her life as the fiendish devil gets up in her face. No. This can’t be.

“You took EVERYTHING from me,” he snarls, his face up against her. His voice is stern and so deep that it’s spine-tingling. I can feel my blood boil as he speaks to her with such malice. “So for that, you will be my new ‘Hope.’ Locked here for centuries, begging for mercy, begging to be set free while your child will be my thrall, feeding off the souls of the unfortunate. It will be a slave, growing up to do my bidding, and then…you will watch as I tear it to shreds. A well-deserved punishment.”

I wonder what he was speaking to her about before we showed up. Surrounding us are various cambions, staring us down should we make a single move. Though they don’t particularly make me nervous, the ill-intentions of Raphael sure give me a wave of stomach-turning anxiety. I can feel my face tighten, several angry emotions swirling within me as I try not to attack this bastard.

“I just didn’t want you to have the crown!” she pleads, her voice broken from all the cries. “We needed the orphic hammer, but we couldn’t allow you to have the crown. It was in everyone’s best interest.”

“Oh please, do you think I care about anyone’s ‘best interest’? No. All I care about is ruling over the Nine Hells and taking control of the devils, making them bow to me like the servants they are. They will have no power over me. Oh, silly girl. Mystra is a fool knowing damn well what she was giving up, who she was giving it to. Your husband worships a false idiot who claims to be all-powerful with magic. He’s just as pathetic as she is.” He touches her bare stomach with his hands, trickling it up and down with his index claw. I can hear him laugh as he’s thinking heavily on his next move.

“Let her GO!” I shout, approaching Raphael but he pushes me back with extreme force. It’s as if I lost all control and couldn’t contain my anger, which never happens. I fly in the air, feeling my back land on the hard floor beneath me.

“You will not interrupt,” he growls, looking back at Emmy. “She will be mine.”

“What do you want?” she cries out. “What can I give you to set me free?” Tears are dripping from her face as she struggles within the chains. Her body is weak, tired, and her face shows nothing but despair. It pains me to see her this way and it’s taking everything in me not to obliterate this creep.

“Emmy, my love,” I whimper, swallowing the words I want to scream at this devil’s evil face. I’m holding back screams and the urge to try and kill this fucker for good, but I know it won’t do a damned thing.

“NOW you want to bargain with the likes of me?” Raphael laughs, touching her belly with his sharp claw again, causing her to flinch. Her eyes widen as she begins to breathe heavily. I clench my fist and fight my words, but she might have him by a chokehold somehow.

“Raphael, please let her go,” I beg with desperation in my voice. “What can we do?”

“Ah, the pathetic wizard who would bow down to the worthless and pitiful goddess that gave the crown to me. One of the people who destroyed me in my own home.” His piercing gaze is digging deep into me, but I’m not allowing it to intimidate me at all. “You’re all too late for any deals. Nice attempt, however.” He continues to trace his claw across her belly, laughing quietly but with a deep tone. He presses his finger deeper into her flesh, causing all of us to panic.

“Please!” Emmy begs, her screams nearly deafening as she pleads for mercy. Karlach and Wyll move up in front of me to face him, ready to fight but I pull them both back with my hands. I can’t let them attack him; it seems we’re close to being able to make a deal with the man.

“Gale, we need to fight this fucking clown,” Karlach says. “He won’t stop unless we destroy him again.”

“He can’t die, remember? Especially as a ruler of the Nine Hells, it will be physically impossible. That will only make this entire situation much worse. Please.” Karlach sighs, and she steps back with Wyll, feeling a sense of defeat by the looks of it. “Trust me, I know the feeling.” Silence fills the room as Raphael turns around to face me, finally moving his hand away from Emmy’s skin.

“Fine. I assume you’re not willing to part with your unborn child. So, give me the Orphic hammer back and promise to never set foot in the House of Hope ever again. This is your only warning. Barge in again and your soul will rot in the stench of Hell, with your body. Understand?”

“Yes, deal. Thank you,” Emmy says, and he releases her from the soul chains. She takes the Orphic hammer from her pack and hands it to him, knowing damn well she has no use for it anyway. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” I look back at Raphael, noticing an evil expression on his face, as if he’s planning something diabolical, though I imagine it doesn’t involve us; at least I hope not. He will still rule the Hells, but there’s nothing we can do. All I can imagine is that he plans on finding Hope again and feeding off her misery once more.I just know it. That’s what he’s known for – using people and feeding off their misery. We’re lucky we got away from him this time, but who knows if he has something nasty planned for the future?

We leave the House of Hope, which apparently is about to not exist in Avernus, and it will be rebuilt in the deeper depths of the Hells. If his plan is to recapture Hope, I feel so sorry for the poor girl. One can only hope that’s not part of his plans. We’re back on solid grounds, though I can safely say I did not expect us to get away that quickly. Emmy hugs me tight, as if she never wants to let me go. I can’t blame her.

“I thought we wouldn’t make it in time,” I murmur in her ear, feeling a tear leave the corner of my right eye. I almost lost her. I rub her back as she keeps her head placed on my chest. Raphael may have sounded like a complete blubbering idiot, but he wasn’t bluffing with his words.

“I love you Emmy, but damn girl, it’s scary how easily you can get away from an archdevil,” Karlach adds. “I have a feeling he has something else planned. If only we knew what. Let’s just…hope it doesn’t involve us.” I continue to embrace her, worried about the future of the world, what will happen, and the fear of surviving it all. We barely escaped Raphael’s clutches. Something tells me he was going to kill her.

“I’m just glad all I had to do at the time was give up the Orphic hammer, which I’m shocked I even had it on me at all,” Emmy says. “I could have sworn I sold it.” I often wonder why he didn’t just send one of his workers to try and steal the orphic hammer from us to begin with, but I guess he’s all about the theatrics.

I’m damn lucky we got away from our encounter with Raphael, but the question remains if it’ll happen again. There’s no way someone like him would let us off so easily, but maybe he knows he’s all-powerful and he already has what he wants. While we are more than ready to make it back to Waterdeep, all of us fear what we may come across again.