#FINALLY got to see all 3 of my glorious admirals in action. they DID NOT disappoint

[vhiveka]

JUST FINISHED WATCHING MARINEFORD THAT SHIT WAS LITERALLY PEAK OMFG, THIS IS WHY I LOVE ONE PIECE

[ssa-sugar-tits]

The Biggest Surprise

Request: this one (@zizzlekwum , happy birthday!!)

I was wondering if I could get Prentiss x reader where Prentiss comes back from the dead and the reader is just like "you motherfuckers" to Hotch and JJ and just really pissed and standoffish to everyone because reader is not good with feelings but then at the end of the case Prentiss goes to reader with a little present for reader's birthday and then feelings reveal and fluff ensues?

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Reader

Content warnings: strong language, death mention, guns, hostage, grief, depression, unsub s**cide, angst + fluff

a/n: left the present she gets you open-ended so use your imagination ♡

When you lost Emily, your entire world shattered. Not only did you lose a team member, but you lost a friend. A friend you love-- loved. The weight of the casket was nothing compared to the weight of your heart that day. Her river like tears and cherry blood still burn on your skin. It's been 10 months of true hell without seeing the midnight beauty. Without hearing her caramel smooth voice. Without feeling her butterly wing touch. You've actually been preparing, for the first birthday since you met her where you wouldn't make plans with her. So when Hotch and JJ explain how they lied and betrayed you, it's enough to make you want to rip your own hair out.

"Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team. As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. But the doctors were able to stabilize her, and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under covert exfiltration. Her identity was strictly need to know. And she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris, where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to, for her security."

Your emotions are ripped up and thrown to the ground. The team is quick to react.

"She's alive?"

"But we buried her!"

"If I got issues? Yeah I got issues!"

JJ places a hand on your shoulder, trying to ease you with her motherly love but you push her away and screw your eyes shut.

"Y/N..." She tries again.

"No! You lied to me, you... you let me think she was dead." Your voice breaks and hot, angry tears trail down your face until you feel a hand on your arm. Almost swatting it away, you recognize her voice. Her fucking voice. Even better than you remembered.

"Y/N, it's me," she whispers. "It's Emily."

And goddamn, it is.

- two weeks later -

"Y/N, go with Prentiss to interview the mother." Hotch orders. Oh fuck me, you complain to yourself. No matter how much you missed her glorious presence, Emily lied to you. She left you. You were alone. Alone with the miserable memory of your angel. Alone with your thoughts. How could life be worth living without a goddess such as Emily? You'd thought it many, many times. There were days you couldn't get out of your bed, nights you clasped the sheets trying to get the image of her cold, bloody figure out of your brain.

"Yeah, okay." You don't look at her, only walking out to the SUV. Deafening silence fills the vehicle as neither of you speak.

"Y/N, can we--"

"Don't." Cutting her off, you roll your eyes at a notification on your phone. Same fucking thing.

JJ

hey, y/n. can we talk when the case is over? will's off tonight, we can go for drinks. you have every right to be angry but please give me this chance.

A pit grows in Emily's stomach and a lump in her throat. She doesn't push the matter further, letting you have your way. You pull up to the victim's mother's home and knock on the door.

"Hello?" Emily squints through the fogged window.

"Mrs. Bennett? It's Agents Prentiss and Y/L/N with the FBI, we have a few questions to ask you."

Crash.

In sync, you and Emily reach for your guns and she kicks down the door with her long, swift leg. You can't help but admire the way her pants cling to her thighs. Y/N, what the fuck? She broke you, stop staring at her fucking legs. Walking into the home, a man fitting the description of your unsub holds the mother at gunpoint. She whimpers and pleads, "P-Please help me agents."

"FBI, drop the gun."

"I'm not going to jail!" The vein in his forehead bulges before he takes the gun to his own head and pulls the trigger. His hostage runs to you, screaming and covered in his crimson blood.

"It's okay, I got you." you escort her out of the home. You don't take a second glance at Emily. You can't control what you might do if you look.

Back at the BAU, you fill out your report mindlessly. Detailing the unsub's final actions and working around admitting the lack of cooperation you displayed.

"Y/L/N, in my office."

Obeying Hotch, you stand and make your way to his office.

"Yes, sir?" Hostility spits at him, telling him you feel utterly wronged. He sighs and you can tell from the creases in his face that he feels guilty but you can't bring yourself to care.

"I made the decision for Emily's own good."

"I understand that, sir."

"If you have a problem, take it up with me. JJ was only following my orders and Prentiss was being kept safe."

Rage boils in your chest and your knuckles could burst from the pressure of your fist. You're interrupted by a knock on the door. JJ stands at the doorway along with Emily.

"I could hear you guys and I thought we could talk, Y/N," JJ says quietly, tucking a blonde tress behind her ear.

"Please?" The brunette adds.

You feel sick.

"Y/N?"

Your insides start turning.

"I'm sorry."

"Y/N."

You're not even sure who's speaking anymore but your name is being repeated and thrown around.

"Y/N?"

Your head spins and you exhale harshly, finally snapping at the people around you.

"Shut up, shut up! Just shut the fuck up all of you! You're all shitty people, you fucking lied to me!" You cry. "You let me think Emily was fucking dead. For 10 months I cried and mourned her to the point where it physically hurt. I was dying too guys. And you motherfuckers can't just decide that after tormenting me inside for almost a year, everything's okay. Fuck you."

They all watch-- and let you-- leave, dumbstruck at the outburst.

Groaning with a massive migraine from breaking down the night before, you awaken to texts from your friends.

penelope:

happy birthday, my amazing best friend!! first of many gifts at your door <3

jj:

happy birthday y/n! lots of kisses from me and the boys 😊

spencer:

happy birthday! interestingly enough, a birthday is considered a renewed chance for new beginnings which is, so to speak, the technical way to say: have a good day (and year!)

derek:

happy birthday, pretty thing. don't have too much fun without me ;)

rossi:

happy birthday kiddo. if you change your mind about a party, one phone call is all it takes. i'll make you a grande birthday dish if you so please 🍝

hotch:

happy birthday, y/l/n. enjoy yourself :)

Drained, you scoff in annoyance at your friends pretending everything's alright. But then it dawns upon you that you didn't receive a message from Emily. And despite the emotional torture she put you through, it hurts that she couldn't be bothered to give you any acknowledgement.

"Happy birthday to me," you grumble and force yourself out of bed. Yawning, you make your way to the kitchen and mix some orange juice and vodka. "What a shame I don't have any candles."

Bringing the straw to your lips, you barely get to take a sip of your pitiful concoction when a knock comes to your door. It shocks you to see Emily's snowy skin and cocoa eyes awaiting. Quickly attempting to fix your hair and sweat drenched t-shirt, you give up and open the door for the woman on the other side.

"Please don't slam the door in my face."

"Do you have a good reason I shouldn't?"

"Well I brought you something."

She lifts the gift to your hands and you gasp in pleasant surprise.

"Oh my god, Em thank you!" Shifting uncomfortably, you remember your pride and go back to your intolerable demeanor but it's too late.

"All it took for you to talk to me was a bribe? Wish I'd known that when I came back from the dead." She laughs. Your voice falls low.

"Emily, I'm sorry for the way I've treated you but you don't understand."

Emily has a feeling it's the other way around. You're the one who doesn't understand.

"What don't I understand Y/N?"

You take a step closer to her and place a hand on her supple cheek, cautiously as if asking permission. Emily closes her eyes lightly allowing you to brush a strand of hair from her face.

"I love you, Emily Prentiss."

She flutters her eyes open and lets out a shaky breath.

"I love you too, Y/N. I mourned you just as much as you mourned me."

Your heart stops and you look her in the eyes.

"Kiss me, Em."

Without a second of hesitation, she connects her lips to yours and kisses you passionately, brushing her tongue on your bottom lip. A salty tear slips into the taste of your flesh tasting one another but neither of you let go yet. Resting your head on her forehead, you smile.

"Since you're here, spend my birthday with me?" you whisper.

"Just try and stop me, Y/L/N." She giggles, plopping down on your couch.

Setting aside all the anguish you've sufferered one thing is certain. Emily and her fucking surprises can take you over any day.

[robinskey]

Coworkers (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Read Part Two Here

A/N: Okay, so this was going to be one long fic, but I decided to split it up into two parts. I’m hoping to get the other part out tomorrow, but I wanted to give you guys a little something tonight! I appreciate you all being patient with my erratic posting schedule as I settle into college. :) 

Warnings: Minor language, reader being clueless

Request: Heyyy could you do steve x fem! reader where reader thinks steve and robin are a thing and reader kinda ignores steve for a time until one day( he is super drunk) he goes to her house and just says he wants her back (even tho they never dated) thank you!!

You started working at Hawkins Family Video in the summer of 1985. It was just supposed to be a summer job so you could earn a little cash before college started. Then, after the scandal surrounding Hawkins Lab leaked, there was a mass exodus from Hawkins, which left your manager, Keith, short on employees. You decided to stay a few more weeks until he could find replacements. His search continued throughout the duration of August and bled into September, then October. Before long, mid-terms were rapidly approaching, and Keith still hadn’t hired a soul. That all changed about a week before Halloween.

New shipments always came in on Saturdays, so Keith had sent you into the back room to sort out the boxes while he manned the front desk. It was an unsurprisingly slow morning; people rarely stopped in before noon. Those who did just sort of quietly milled around the store, clearly just trying to waste time, since there wasn’t much else to do in Hawkins, Indiana. Thus, you were surprised to hear Keith start a conversation with someone. You couldn’t resist peeking your head out the door.

There were two gangly teenagers standing at the counter, staring intently at Keith. One was a tall, freckled girl with heavy eyeliner, high-waisted jeans, and a vaguely-familiar face. The guy standing next to her, though, you recognized immediately, thanks to his unforgettable head of hair. The last time you’d glimpsed that glorious mane was a few months ago, when it had been drenched in hair gel and squashed under a graduation cap. 

“Uh, just to be clear, we weren’t fired, you know,” the girl was saying. “The mall burned down and killed, like, a bunch of people.”

“Thanks for sharing. Didn’t know,” Keith said, somehow making a monotone ooze with sarcasm. You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes; your boss was a lot of things, but “welcoming” wasn’t one of them. He pointed a finger at the girl and said, “Three favorite movies-go!”

She glanced around for a moment as she gathered her thoughts, then named The Apartment, Hidden Fortress, and Children of Paradise. Without showing any sign of acknowledgment, Keith turned to Steve, looking for his answers to the same question. You expected Steve Harrington to smoothly fire off a list of flicks featuring lots of action-packed scenes and scantily-clad women.

However, he just repeated Keith’s question, dumbfounded. Keith responded, “Did I stutter?”

Steve drew out a long “uh” before answering, “Animal House for sure, uh…” 

He brought his hand nervously to his lips, which he grazed over with his thumb. Oh, to be that thumb. His dark eyes darted around the room until Keith reminded him, “Eyes on me, Harrington.”

“Yeah, uh...Star Wars?” It sounded like more of a guess than an answer.

“A New Hope?” 

Steve stared at your boss blankly. “A new what now?”

Keith heaved a sigh. He was clearly already done with this kid. “Which Star Wars?”

“The one with the teddy bears, duh,” Steve said. 

He made a high-pitched noise that you figured was supposed to resemble an Ewok. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from bursting out laughing. You knew Keith wouldn’t be impressed, though, so part of you felt sorry for the poor boy.

Wait, poor boy? This was King Steve you were talking about. The last thing his big head he needed was for his head to get even more inflated with your sympathy.

“Hmph, no?” he asked. His female companion ducked her head, effectively hiding her face. Then, excitement lit up Steve’s features, and he started ticking things off on his fingers. “Oh! The movie that just came out. The one with the DeLorean, and Alex P. Keaton, and he’s trying to bang his mom-”

Was that...Harrington’s synopsis of Back to the Future? Really? God, was this guy okay? I mean, you knew he’d smoked a little in high school, but you didn’t know marijuana could do permanent brain damage. 

“Yeah. Those are my top three. Classics,” Steve murmured. He cast his gaze down awkwardly. Because as clueless as Steve Harrington could be, he still knew what was coming next.

Keith confirmed everyone’s suspicions by telling the girl, “You start Monday,” and telling Steve, “You start never.”

Steve blinked, the hurt evident in his chocolate eyes, even from a distance. The girl leaned into him, gently bumping her shoulder against his.  “Will you just, um-will you give us a minute?” she asked, gesturing to Keith. 

“Why?”

“Steve,” she said gently. The message she communicated through her gaze must have been convincing, since Steve simply nodded once before sliding his resume off the counter and walking over to a display. 

As soon as he was out of earshot, the girl leaned forward on the counter. She spoke barely above a whisper, and you had to strain to hear as she defended her partner’s honor. You crept up the aisle to get closer to the action in hopes of catching the rest of the conversation. 

“He’s a douchebag of the highest order, Robin,” Keith was saying.

That was when the mystery girl’s identity finally clicked. This was Robin Buckley-band geek, language nerd, school genius. You’d gone to high school together. She was a year younger and way too smart for her own good, so you didn’t share many classes, but you’d had the same homeroom last year.

“He was a bit of a prick to us in high school; I’ll grant you that, but he remains…” Robin threw a glance toward Steve, who was admiring the cover of every single movie on the shelf. “...a total chick magnet.”

The guy who’d just made an Ewok sound moments earlier? Yeah, okay.

“Yeah, okay,” Keith said, mimicking your thoughts. You made a mental note to try to spend less time with Keith so his terrible personality didn’t rub off on you too much. “And this is relevant to me how?”

Robin’s jaw practically dropped. She spoke, voice full of drama: “Earth to Keith. The ladies will come in just to see him. They’ll come in in droves. Droves, Keith. We sold so much ice cream that they had to get a second shipment from Michigan. Goddamn Michigan, Keith. And these ladies...these ladies are hot. They are so very hot. And there are too many for little Steve. He needs assistance. He needs your assistance, Keith.”

“What’s in it for you? You got a thing for him or somethin’?”

There was a loud clatter as Steve bumped into a cardboard cutout of a woman in a bikini. (You really didn’t understand why you even had that thing at a place that called itself a “Family Video” store. However, when you’d questioned it, Keith had just told you to “find something better if you don’t like that one”, and you weren’t about to spend your already-scarce income on a lifesize cardboard cutout.) The cardboard lady tumbled to the floor, despite Steve’s best efforts to rescue her. As he awkwardly tried to restore her to her former position, Robin turned back to Keith.

“We’re just-um-we’re just friends,” she said, even though the slight blush that sprung to her cheeks seemed to suggest otherwise.

“Oh! Fast Times,” Steve exclaimed, putting the fake woman back into place. He read from the caption at her feet. “Fast Times. Ever heard of it? Top three for me.”

Robin let out a twinkling laugh, and Steve smiled back at her.  

You didn’t understand why that simple exchange twisted your stomach into a knot.

Taglists:

General: @novaddictx @anabundanceoffandoms @rexorangecouny @morganvanilla@anolddayslover

Steve: @broadwayandnetflix @explode-a-pult @whormotional @loulouloueh@peterhollandd

Stranger Things: @readinthegarden12 @lacunaclouds

If you want to be added to the tag list for a specific character/my writing in general, leave a reply or send me a message! Thanks again for reading. <3

If you want to check out more of my writing, here’s my masterlist. :)

[yeoldontknow]

Enough (M)

Author’s Note: uhm...i felt this in my soul today and im going to say up front this is not a usual reader insert. as an adult plus size woman, sometimes i want to read about a larger OC/YN who struggles with body image. so i wrote that because i imagine if i want to read that, someone else must want that too. im not trying to tackle anything huge with this, i just want to fill a different kind of need. if its not your thing, you dont have to read it. i love you as much as i love chanyeol, regardless if you read my work or not <3  Prompt (from the followers milestone drabble game): 99 - “You’ve got a cute butt.” Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Genre: light smut; fluff; light angst; romance; au Summary: You’ve admired your co-worker for a long time, often to the point of viewing him as someone unattainable. The morning after you slept together, you think about self-worth, beauty, and remind yourself of your power. Rating: light NC-17 Warnings: light sexual references Word count: 2,096

When you wake, your body still feels him.

The morning burns, seeping through the linen of your curtains to cast irregular shadows on the walls, adding to the difference of the day. This moment, this new outlook on life  is different - not bad, not good, just different. ��Irrevocably changed by hands that have somehow learned to hold you. Beneath the sheets, your body feels warm, handled in a way you forgot was possible. Lately, men have kissed at you, curled around you either too much or too little - wanting you, all the while reminding you that you are unneeded.

Last night, Chanyeol touched you, felt you, pressed himself against and inside you deep enough, hard enough, that he lingers now as an enduring echo. Your skin tingles with him, with the press of his fingers into your hips, the shuddering breath he left against your collarbone, still making you tremble, even as the dawn urges you to let him go.

You knew it would be this way with him. You did not expect anything less.

For months, you watched him in the office, studied him and all the things he sometimes tries to hide, or does not know how to hide. He’s hard to miss - tall and laughing louder than anyone else in the room; asymmetrical with ears too big for his head and legs that bow out, but you would not fathom him any other way. He’s hard to miss, but his soul is.

In meetings, he fidgets - not because he’s bored, but because he’s created answers through and around the problem and has been told to wait. In silence, he is pensive, frowning at himself and the magnitude of his thoughts, anxious to give and give until someone allows him to receive. In work ethic, he is diligent, so unlike the noise of his personality, dedicated to correctness, to perfection, and often exhausted from the pressure of achieving both.

And he’s beautiful - too beautiful to truly perceive, wearing his complexities as though they are badges of honor and too self-aware to truly be proud. On him, proud is a pretense, the knowledge that he can and will win, but unsure if he truly deserves the prize. On him, pride is empty, shallow, and presented only because someone told him it should.

For months, you watched him, eyes tracing his but never truly meeting.

For months, you watched him, and only with four drinks in your blood were you able to tell him this was so.

But now, as the memories of the night before flood - the way he spread your thighs, groaning that he was hard enough to hurt for you; the way he licked at your center, thirsty for the clench of your walls against his tongue; the way he thrust into you, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep your chest on his, desperate for your heart - you did not expect him to stay. At the sight of him beside you, wetness grows at your core, remembering how it felt to be full of him. You crave him there again, stretched full and showing him just how powerful you are when the sun gives you wings, and know that sex and lust feel different when light does not let you hide.

You crave him there, but he may not crave you.

People don’t want you this way. Not enough to take their time and certainly not enough to stay. You are a transient thing, someone who experiences sex as though it is an eclipse, and watches bodies move towards and away from your body. If you’re honest, you’ve grown accustomed to being the moon, with waxing and waning against someone’s orbit until they no longer look to see if you are full. You are comfortable and you’ve accepted it.

Everyone has a season, and yours glimmers just like gold.

Turning over in the bed, your cover yourself up to your neck with the sheets, and watch the mess of his hair shiver gently against your pillow with the rhythm of his breath. In the sunlight, he is glorious and glowing, seemingly unaware of the control he has over your heart, aloof in all the ways you find endearing. It’s hard to know when you fell or how for him, somewhen in the days spent watching and waiting, suddenly no longer being able to discern the difference between the two. It only matters that you did, that you have, and that it’s important you remind yourself you are not unworthy.

It doesn’t make sense that he should be different, someone whose hardness contrasts so harshly with your softness; someone who grows muscle, and not marks. Someone who cannot wear his clothes in the morning or appear small beneath the fabric of a hoodie; someone whose breasts only just fit in the palm of his hand and remind him that he is large only because you let yourself see him this way. It doesn’t make sense, but the world has never truly been comprised of logic or motive, only of actions that bleed into reactions, an endless course of collisions that birth new modes being.

Today, you think you are majestic.

Today, you know you are the only one who could properly hold the totality of him.

Today, you are aware that you deserve someone who hungers for the totality of you.

And so you pull yourself away from him, letting your fingers card through his hair one last time, knowing that you do not need this to remember only that you want it and are letting yourself have it. You pull away and head for your shower, knowing that the pressure of water against tile is enough to rouse anyone from slumber, and this is his opportunity to leave and still offer your dignity.

The hardwood is cold against your toes, and you take the top blanket with you, covering your body as you quietly make your way to the bathroom. Leaning out to check on the bed, you find he has not moved from the slight change in temperature, content as though the side of the bed belongs to him alone.

Shutting the door and turning the shower on, you regard yourself in the mirror as you let the water get warm.

You are not unpretty.

In truth, there is no one on earth who could not, would not, be beautiful. Beauty is an indeterminate thing, an impossible thing to hold and something that often comes down to actions. It speaks for itself, in bounds, and while you are not, and will not ever be small, slim, conventional, you are full, and joyful, and welcoming. The heart in your chest speaks in the sound of your voice and you are glad you let yourself be heard, though often you wonder who it is that listens.

You are not unpretty. And you are not unworthy.

You are magic and power and fortitude, a reckoning force that creates what you choose to make and this is why you are deserving. It is not for him to choose you, you tell yourself, only for him to learn to receive.

Stepping into the shower, you smile and sigh.

Beneath the warm flow of water, you let yourself get drenched.

By thoughts. By the way the light can change things. By the impatience that comes with waiting for answers.

Light changes things - this is your primary thought. Light makes things glow, bloom, shine; but it also exposes. It sears its way into corners that cower away, neither ugly nor foul, simply raw. In the dark, where all things are equal, it is easy to take what you have earned. And in the light, it is easy to say you do not want it because it hurts.

The light plays with you like this, and you think you are best in the full rays of the sun.

The light plays with you, and you are glad for the power of choosing how you gleam.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the door opening, the shuffling of feet against the tile muffled beneath the sound of water. His shadow lingers behind the glass, shifting from foot to foot, uncertain, before sliding it open and greeting you with a smile.

Eyes still bleary with sleep, he offers you a small, boyish smile as he steps inside. He’s awkward with the placement of his limbs in the small space, and for a moment you giggle, never having had someone with such a wingspan shower with you. For a long moment, you simply look at him, marveling at how he holds your stare, unhurried for the rest of you the way so many partners are. He luxuriates in seeing you, smiling at you, stepping closer until he pulls you to his chest and rests his forehead against yours, contented by the bliss of your touch.

‘I was lonely when I woke up,’ he murmurs, lips moving against the tip of your nose. ‘You should have told me you were going.’

It’s difficult not to giggle at the pout that tugs on his expression, softening his cheeks and lips until your skin hurts from not touching his face. Sliding your fingers up his arms, you watch the way your hands leave smears of wetness against his veins and tattoos, mystified.

‘Did you sleep okay?’ It’s an absentminded question, even though you mean it. Permission has been granted to lose yourself in him, and you choose to savor feel of his palms against your back.

How odd, you think, to truly, finally be held. How odd, and how extraordinary.

He nods against you momentarily before stepping back to grab your shampoo. ‘Best I’ve had in ages, to be honest.’

Gently, he turns you in his hands, and you hear him gather some shampoo in his palms before his fingers move through your hair. Electricity walks down your spine, sending spark along your synapses that make your toes feel numb. It’s hard to say if you’ve ever been taken care of this way, if you’ve ever let yourself be nurtured, but he takes to it with as much diligence as anything you’ve seen him passionate about, and you bite the inside of your cheek to fight off words of thanks.

You deserve to be treasured this way, you think. It’s just impossible to believe it would be him.

Silence befalls you both as he continues to wash your hair, shaping the strands into irregular objects just to make you laugh. Frenetic as he is, it’s not long until he begins to hum, an unidentifiable arrangement born of pleasure overflowing from his chest and washing over you like honey. You could die this way, you think, wrapped in ecstasy and held by hope.

But then, with a reverence that borders on paradise, he moves your hair from your shoulder and gently, lightly, presses a kiss to your neck. You lean into it, hands seeking his as his arms wrap around your waist, certain that you will slip, weakened by the affection. Running his nose along your skin, he sighs, kissing what he can until he reaches your ear.

‘You’ve got a cute butt.’

Laughter erupts from your chest, body molding to liquid fire as you turn to face him.

All boldness disappears from his features as a blush stains his cheeks, teeth coming to bite his bottom lip in shyness. Blinking away water, unsure of the reality, you gently reach a hand to cup his cheek, and sigh as it’s his turn to lean into you, both of you feeling exposed.

‘You make me feel vulnerable,’ you admit, surprised that your voice does not shake.

‘I mean…’ he begins, voice trailing off into the distance. He pauses momentarily, idly shifting to press a kiss to your palm before he continues. ‘Me too.’

Stepping closer, you wrap your arm around his waist, trailing your fingers over his spine. ‘Why did you stay?’

Chanyeol pouts. ‘Did you want me to leave?’

‘No,’ you shake your head, shrugging. ‘I just didn’t know what you wanted.’

Moving to hold your face in his hands, he presses a light kiss to your forehead, nose, and lips. It’s brief, altogether too chaste for the way his mouth explored your folds the night before, but it’s enough to know he’s serious.

‘I want you,’ he says, firmly, searching your eyes for slivers of rejection. ‘I’ve wanted you. I wanted to stay.’

‘I want you to stay, too.’

Today, you think, this is enough.

You are always enough.

[is-it-madness]

My Glorious Purpose | Loki x OC Chapter 3

A/N: Hi guys! I’m so sorry I haven’t posted chapter three until now. This whole quarantine thing is really messing with me, I’ve been stressing a tad bit because my mom works at a hospital and the cases keep getting worse. So please, everyone, please be careful and stay safe. This really isn’t a joke. Anywho, here is the long overdue, chapter three.💜

Pairing: Loki x OC  (Tera Digitalis)

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: None in this chapter :)

Chapter 3: Escape

(Loki’s POV)

I must admit, I’m surprised by the way Agent Romanoff was able to get me to reveal my plan to her. She was intelligent. For a mortal. And yet she had decided to leave a child to guard my cell. The mere thought of it brought a smile to my face. I would easily manipulate her to join me. I did not need my scepter for this. My silver tongue would suffice. I saw the worry on her face when Agent Romanoff told her to stay here and watch me, but now her back was turned. I began to listen to her thoughts, curious as to what she thought about being left alone with me.

Okay. I hear her tell herself. I can do this, it’s just standing guard. It’s not that big of a deal. It’s literally just standing. A pause before, Please don’t let him talk to me!

I smile. 

“Don’t you know that it is rude to have your back facing another?” I tell her.

I begin to listen again when she doesn’t turn.

Don’t you know it’s rude to try and take over planets? Or were you not taught that in your etiquette class?

I laugh, she is quite amusing. And stubborn.

 “No, I do not believe I was ever taught that.”

Dammit, Tera! You know he can read minds!

“Is that your name?” I ask her, curious, her back was still towards me. Hmm. She knew I was reading her thoughts. Interesting. 

 “I wish to converse with you face-to-face Tera, like civilized people.” I’m beginning to become frustrated.

Okay just don’t think about anything! He can’t read my mind if I’m not thinking anything, she tells herself.

I laugh again. “Please.” I tell her, “ I can do much more than hear your thoughts mortal girl. I can dive into your subconscious, I have the ability to learn your greatest fears and deepest secrets. And I will do so if you do not face me!”

She sighs in defeat. She turns around slowly to face me, but she refuses to look at me. Her eyes wander everywhere else, but she refuses to meet my gaze. 

“Look at me.”

“Or what?”

“Hmm. I think I will kill you myself when the Chitauri invade.”

She snaps her head up to me. I can see the fear in her eyes.

“That’s better,” I say with a smile. Finally, someone who knows when they are threatened.

I return to sit on the uncomfortable bench. I gesture for her to sit as well. I may be attempting to take over the Earth, but I am still a gentleman. Mother would be disappointed with me if I kept a lady standing. Even if she is a Midgardian.

“I prefer to stand,” she says coldly.

I smile and bow my head. “You wish to remain standing to keep your guard up, yes? I will respect this decision child.”

I noticed she clenches her fists when I call her a child.

This will be fun. I smirk.

“Since Agent Romanoff has completed her interrogation with me, perhaps I can ask you some questions.”

She frowns. “You aren’t going to be getting any answers from me.”

I chuckle. “No, no. You misunderstand. I simply want to ask about you.”

She looks at me, shocked. “Me?” 

“Yes, you. You may answer my questions to the best of your ability, and if you choose not to answer, I will respect that decision.”

“What’s going to stop you from reading my mind?” she asks, on edge, looking as if I might pounce on her.

“I admire your skepticism mortal, but fear not. You have my word that I will not make any attempt to read your thoughts.”

“Okay,” she says quietly. “ Can I think about it for a sec?”

“By all means.”

She begins to pace, and I watch her. 

Wanting to earn her trust, I restrain myself from hearing what she is debating. After several minutes she turns to face me. 

“Have you made up your mind?” I ask her.

“Yes. You can ask me some questions, but remember, I don’t have to answer if I don’t want to and you can’t read my mind. Agreed?”

I nod. It was good thinking on her part to lay out the term. She kept surprising me with her actions.

“Okay, what’s your first question?”

“Your first name is Tera, yes?”

She nods.

“I notice you became annoyed when I call you a child. Is this true”

“Yes.”

“Well if you are not a child, how old are you?”

I see the suspicion growing on her face.

“What will you gain by knowing how old I am?”

I smile, “I will learn that you are not a child.”

She glares before answering, “I’m 19.”

I continue smiling. “Yes, I suppose you are not a child.”

 “Humph.”

“Alright, here’s another question. How did you know I was able to read your mind? And what did Agent Romanoff mean when she said you know me better than anyone here besides the oaf?” 

I need to know how she knows so much about me. This is my first time on Midgard and yet she knows of my ability to read minds.

She smiles. “Well, before I met you and Thor, I believed you were myths, legends, stories of old. When I was younger, I was fascinated by mythology. Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Norse,” She says giving me a knowing look. “I would try to learn anything and everything that had to do with mythology. I guess you could say it was a hobby,” she shrugs. “I was always reading. Any chance that I got, any free time I had, I would use it to read. Still do actually,” she says with a small smile. 

She looks back at me after her gaze had wandered. I hold her gaze. She quickly looks away. I make a note of the flush rising to her cheeks. I want to delve into her mind. To know what she is thinking, but I held back. I gave her my word.

 I start laughing, realizing something.

“Perhaps you and I are not so different, Tera,” I say.

She scoffs, “I’m sorry, what?”

“We are intellectuals, you and I. We both indulge in the joys of reading.”

“Oh.” 

“What else do you know about me?” Just how much of my power does she know?

“Oh, um, well you can read minds, cast illusions and spells, shapeshift, you have super strength.” She hesitates before continuing, as if wanting to say something else, but she held back. “Yeah that’s pretty much all I know.”

“Shame,” I say. “ I liked hearing you list off all my abilities. They sound better coming from a mortal.”

She looks at me, puzzled.

I sigh, “I was jesting. Do you mortals engage in this past time? Based on all the people I have met so far, I would think not.”

She laughs. “You haven’t exactly given a reason for us to joke with you.”

I smile, “No, I suppose not.”

“Do you have any other questions for me?”

I hesitate before asking, “Do you have any family?”

The smile vanishes from her face. “I don’t wish to answer that question,” she says quietly.

I nod, “I understand,” I pause. “I have enjoyed this chat of ours.”

And I did. Finally, someone who is able to hold a normal conversation with me. It’s a shame I would be taking over this planet. But I have a duty. I have no time for distractions or pleasantries. 

She gives a small smile. “Glad to know that we bonded,” I can hear the sarcasm in her voice. “Now I’m sure you’re going to continue taking Earth over.”

I chuckle, “You’re not wrong.”

I know that Barton has reached the helicarrier, and I know that the beast will be unleashed any second. For reasons, I am unable to explain, I did not want this Midgardian child in harm’s way. She may believe she is not a child, but I disagree. She is extremely small. If the beast reaches her, well, he would be able to snap her neck before she knew what was happening. I didn’t want her to die. Not yet. I want to know why she wouldn’t speak of her family. I want to find out.

I begin muttering an incantation under my breath. 

“What are you doing?” she asks, taking several steps away from the cage.

I wave my hand, casting a simple sleeping spell on her. She drops to the floor with a thud. I walk toward the edge of the cage. 

I crouch and I tell her with some amusement, “For someone who knows so much about me, you should have known that I would be able to use my magic on you.”

I hear her whisper, “I hate you,” before passing out. I look at her, I don’t know why but my heart feels regretful. Seeing this girl, laying on the floor. But there are more important things than a small child. Much more important things.

I’m snapped out of my thoughts by the roar of the beast. I smile and wait, knowing that Thor will be here to make sure I’m still locked up. Several minutes pass by. He must be engaging with the beast. A moment later, I see Thor running into the room. I begin to let myself out.

“Nooo!”

He runs towards me, I crouch, making him believe I was preparing for impact, but he went right through one of my illusions, straight into the cell. The door closes behind him. He stands up and looks around before his eyes land on me.

I gave him a look of disappointment. “Are you ever not going to fall for that?”

Frustrated, he begins to pound away at the cage with his hammer. The glass begins to crack, but the cage holds. I laugh, mostly from joy but also from relief.

I begin to walk towards the control panel. “The humans think us immortal. Shall we test that?” I ask him.

“What have you done to the girl?”

I turn. I had moved her out of the way before Thor came barreling in here. She was laying at my feet, still asleep. 

“Don’t worry brother. She is not dead. Yet.”

He looks at her in horror. “If you so much as touched her, I swear-”

“Relax. I have only cast a sleeping spell on her. She was tiresome, non-stop talking, I simply did it for silence,” I lie smoothly.

I turn back to the control panel and am about to push the button that would drop Thor back to Earth when I suddenly hear someone say, “Move away please.”

It is one of the agents, wielding a rather impressive looking gun. Hesitant, I back up.

“Do you like this?” He asks about his weapon, as we both took several steps closer to each other. “We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer. Even I don’t know what it does. Do you wanna find out?” He begins to fire it up.

Foolish mortal, I think to myself. Did he really believe I would allow myself to be captured so easily? I approach him from behind, thrusting my spear through his chest. I hear the sound of him yelling. My second illusion disappears from in front of him.

“NO!” yells Thor slamming the cage.

The agent drops to the floor, still holding the gun, blood coming from his mouth and breathing heavily. I walk towards the control panel and lift the cover from the button. Thor glares at me as I open it, the gateway to his hopeful demise. He takes several steps back and looks down with worry. He looks back up at me. I smile before sending him tumbling through the sky.

I turn to take my leave, but pause when I hear a faint, “You’re going to lose.”

I turn around. It was the dying agent. “Am I?” 

“It’s in your nature.”

“Your heroes are scattered,” I tell him. “Your floating fortress falls from the sky. Where is my disadvantage?” I took several steps towards him.

“You lack conviction.” He answers.

My face hardens. “I don’t think I-”

The agent blasts me with the weapon and I am thrown back, through the walls, a flaming ball. I get up and leave. I cross the runway, to the awaiting airplane. We take off as soon as I enter. I smile.

(Third Person POV)

 Fury enters and sees Agent Coulson on the ground. He kneels down by him.

“I’m sorry boss,” Coulson apologizes. “They got rabbited.”.

 “Just stay awake. Eyes on me,” Fury orders him.

“Oh I’m clockin’ out here.”

“Not an option.”

“It’s okay, boss. This was never gonna work- if they didn’t have something- to-”

His breathing halts and Fury stands to let the medical team through. He leans against the railing. He turns his head and sees another body under the control panel. He rushes over. It was Natasha’s mentee. He quickly checks for a pulse. Natasha had already lost Clint. He didn’t want her to lose the kid she was so protective over.

“Medic! Come here. We got another one. She’s alive but I want you to check her out. Make sure she’s okay.”

They put the intern on a stretcher and take her to the med bay.

Part 4

[venus-viz]

Helpless

Sirius x Reader

Overview: FluffFluffFluffFluffFluffFluffFluffFluffFluff Sirius decides he wants to send you love letters while you guys are attending Hogwarts.

Word Count: 2,448

Warning(s): One curse word, that’s it. You’re safe here.

Note: The first two settings of this one shot take place during 5th year. You’ll know the setting of the third when you get there. Hope you enjoy reading. <3

Key:

(O/N) = Owl Name

Gif not mine

(No reposting, please!)

     The hundreds of fluttering wings entering the Great Hall cut off everyone’s conversations as they excitedly waited for whatever mail they might be expecting.  

    (Y/N)’s parents were busy on business trips as they had described in their previous letter, so she stayed focused on the delicious pancakes in front of her. Sweet, fluffy pancakes-her mind seemed to have gone numb because Lily was practically shoving her to the point where she could fall off of her seat. “Oi, Earth to (Y/N)!”  

    Finally snapping out of her daydreaming state, she turned to the redhead that glared fondly in her direction. “Something’s arrived for you, you were too braindead to notice.” (Y/N) pouted in response but took the piece of parchment from Lily’s outstretched hand.  Marlene attempted at peeking over her friend’s shoulder, trying to see the contents of the letter. Her actions didn’t go without (Y/N)’s notice, who blocked Mar’s view. A familiar fancy yet rushed handwriting filled the paper.

“Dear my darling dove,

I stole some parchment from Moony, I’ll have to be quick about this so I can send it before he murders me. I heard you talking to Evans about how you think getting sent love notes and letters is romantic, so I thought I’d start surprising you with some. I’m going to guess you smiled at that comment. Merlin, imagining it is making me want to see you already. Your smile is the only thing I continue living for, really. I got a little cheesy there, didn’t I? I’m not the best at writing but I want to make you feel like you’re loved, like you’re special. Being with you is one of the most wonderful things that’s happened to me, you’re truly the light of my life. Shit, I think I hear Moony. Going to have to cut this letter short, love. I promise the next ones will be worthy for a goddess like you.

Sincerely,

Your favorite Gryffindor”  

    There was a smile spread on (Y/N)’s face as she finished reading and looked over to a beautiful pair of grey eyes, the usual smirk on her boyfriend’s face. Sirius seemed to be satisfied with himself, winking over at her. Such a simple action but it sent butterflies coursing through her. The things that boy did to her. It will be one hell of a ride if he planned on sending more of those.      

     She then became suddenly aware of the giggle fits next to her as well as how dumb her loving expression must’ve looked to those around her. Marlene snickered. “I don’t think you need to tell us who it’s from anymore.” 

                                                          - - -

    Sirius had certainly lived up to the idea of sending love letters. He hadn’t missed a day so far. He’d sometimes even send more than one. However cheesy or cliché they were, she loved receiving them, nonetheless. She started to laugh softly to herself, remembering the rant he had went on during one of the letters about how he was certain Prongs secretly wanted him and not Lily.

    The weather outside was perfect. The warm sun wasn’t too intense, and a gentle breeze made the grass fly in the wind. A great day to work on Potions homework.

    (Y/N) sat herself under a tree that provided her with shade, the same tree she and Sirius would usually cuddle under until getting scolded for being out after curfew. Grinning at the thought, she opened up her Potions book, dipped her quill in some ink and got to work.

    Meanwhile, Sirius looked down upon her from the Owlery, admiring who he perceived as the most beautiful girl to ever exist. Letting out a love-sickened sigh, he leaned his head on the palm of his hand. He had started to forget the purpose of his trip when (Y/N)’s owl began pecking him lightly, an annoyed expression on their face. “Gah, okay, okay, you can stop now! Mangy bird.” He grumbled, scribbling words onto the parchment he had brought with him. (O/N) looked none too happy at his words, making their point clear as they poked him slightly hard on the head. Sirius scowled playfully in return. “I hear you, just let this dry for a moment.” During his waiting time, he decided to look out at where his girlfriend was again.  

    Some time passed by and stretching her arms up, (Y/N) realized that the sun had begun to set and that she’d been sitting out there for quite a while now. She took a moment to take in the scenery around her before packing up her things. The way the water out on the Black Lake glistened under the descending light especially caught her attention. She stared at her gorgeous surroundings until her eyelids began to droop.

    Startled awake, she realized her owl was nuzzling her arm affectionately in hopes of her noticing them. She smiled, petting them gently and then taking the parchment they were holding out to her. “Another letter from Sirius, no doubt.” She thought aloud. Unrolling the paper, she began reading.  

“Good evening, angel,

I can see you from the Owlery. That makes me sound like a creep, but I can’t erase it. You look so pretty today. Well, you’re gorgeous every day. Breathtaking, honestly. You’ll probably have such a cute blush while reading this. Maybe I should make it a goal of mine to get you bright, Gryffindor red. You look so concentrated on that Potions essay that I forgot about, which you’ll scold me for later. I love you so much. You’re so dedicated and passionate in everything you do. You’re so diligent and curious to learn more. Godric, the things you do to me. Remus poked fun at me for becoming soft, he even asked how I was able to see with all the hearts in my eyes. But how can I not be this in love when I have you? The most wonderful, intelligent woman in all of Hogwarts and you’re somehow mine. I just want to sing my love out to the whole WORLD. I can already hear you calling me dramatic, but that’s my middle name, doll. No, it is not Orion. Or Onion as Evans misread it. Anyway, you’ll be heading to bed by the time you read this, so I won’t make this too long.  

Take care,

Your lovestruck boyfriend”  

    Chuckling to herself, (Y/N) bit her bottom lip to try and stop her smile from going across her whole face. (O/N) nudged her teasingly, to which she rolled her eyes. “You have no right to comment, I saw you eyeing an owl last week when I went to visit you.” (O/N) turned suddenly shy and tried to hide their face while their owner started cracking up.

                                                         - - -

    Sirius nervously adjusted his black tie as he waited at the bottom of the stairway for (Y/N), thinking back on the past years they’ve experienced at Hogwarts. 7th year had finally come, and they’d all be graduating in a few days. They’d have to determine their future, but for now, they’d have a joyous time at their final school dance.

    Speaking of, Lily and Marlene just walked down, which snapped Sirius out of his train of thought. Mar’ started making a trumpet impression before she began to speak. “Make way for our glorious and precious princess that I’ll continue to protect after school is over, (Y/N) (L/N)!” Lily covered her mouth to muffle her laughter as her dramatic friend did jazz hands.

    Bashfully, (Y/N) stepped out from behind the wall she was using to not be seen and made eye contact with Sirius. His loving gaze admired her, and she couldn’t decide whether she felt more comfortable due to his presence or if she wanted to cover her face in fear that everyone would see her crimson cheeks. He then made it even harder to choose when he pulled out that charming smile on her, the one that just made her heart leap out of her chest.  

    “You look stunning, love.” He mused as she carefully walked down and over to him. The blush on her face intensified. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Sirius.”  

    Letting out a low chuckle that sent shivers down her spine, he held out an arm to her. “May I escort the beautiful princess to her ball?” (Y/N) accidentally let out a giggle at his extravagant act, mentally scolding herself for becoming a young teen for a moment. “Of course.” She responded as she wrapped her own arm under and around his. They stepped into the giant room that had been prepared for the students’ final, special night.

    Everyone involved in the decoration certainly went all-out. A beautiful yet blinding chandelier hung from the ceiling, highlighting the dance floor. There were rows of tables with white cloth covering them stood off to the side. They had been filled with over a dozen entrée options to suit everyone’s tastes. The ribbons and balloons were gorgeous shades of blue and white. James had suspected they might’ve used the same decorations from the winter festivities, but everyone paid him no mind.  

    However, despite the effort that had been put in towards the way this ball looked, Sirius couldn’t help but stare at (Y/N) the whole time. The way her outfit of choice fit her just right and how the moonlight along with the chandelier brought out her eyes. She was like a magnet, pulling Sirius ever closer to the brink of madness. He often jokingly wondered whether she was part Veela in disguise.

    “You going to stare holes through me all night or are you going to ask me to dance?” (Y/N) grinned at him.

    Laughing softly, he took her hand in his and placed a gentle kiss upon it. “Right, how rude of me. Would you care for a dance, my love?” Giddily, she nodded.  

    Truth be told, Sirius had been forced by his mother to learn how to waltz, even if he didn’t have an interest in finding out how to do it. When he and (Y/N) got closer, she had made the off-hand comment that she didn’t know how to do the elegant dance, so he then became her tutor. He couldn’t help but thank the stars for having given him such a great opportunity to use the otherwise unneeded skill.

    Now, here they were, gliding across the practically glittering floor. Some people watched in awe, but to them, they were the only two people that existed in this moment. The only people to have ever lived. The only people that mattered.

    As they looked into each other’s eyes, they shared a mutual thought: they would never leave the other’s side.

    After a while of quiet dancing, (Y/N) decided to speak up and break the silence. “It’s so weird to believe that…we’re going to be leaving this place, you know? Hogwarts has just always been a second home to me - to all of us.” Sirius nodded in agreement and hummed to himself before responding, “It’s really a strange concept, isn’t it?” He twirled her in between thoughts. “I mean, we came here when we were eleven. Merlin, my hair was so bad-”

    Laughing, (Y/N) subconsciously twirled a piece of his hair between her fingers. “I don’t know, I think you looked quite cute.” Her laughter only continued when Sirius reacted with a disgusted look. “I’m sure my younger self appreciates the compliment but please don’t sneak into my bedroom at night and give me a haircut.” This only caused them to share a laugh together.  

    Smiling, (Y/N) decided to ask him something, “Hey, since our school lives are over, does this mean it’s the end of your endless letters?”

    At this, Sirius suddenly looked a little nervous, which was rare. She tilted her head curiously at his behavior. “Sirius? Is something wrong?”

    “No, no, nothing is wrong. I’m just…thinking of the right words to say, I guess.” He chuckled to himself, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. “About those…I actually have one last letter I’d like you to read.” He started to reach for something in the pocket of his blazer and took up a folded sheet of parchment. (Y/N) made a motion to take it but he held it up too high for her to take. “Ah, ah, ah. I want you to read it in a more secluded area. You know, where people aren’t constantly twirling around us.” She laughed softly and they walked nearer to a window away from the dancing.  

    Sirius now handed over the paper, letting her gently unfold it. While her eyes went over all the words, he started fumbling with something else that was in his pocket.

“My love,

I write this to you in hopes that you’ll see how much I simply adore you. It’s the end of our last year here. There are so many fond memories tied to this place, many of which involve you. I could never imagine a life where I didn’t meet you. You’re so perfect and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know I have flaws and I definitely don’t deserve you, but if you’ll have me, I want to be with you forever. I want to hold you close every moment I can and feel your soft hair in my hands. I want to protect you with my whole being and know you’re safe by my side. You’re my everything, (Y/N).

Will you marry me?”

    Her eyes went wide as she reread that last line in her head. She turned to see Sirius but found she had to look down. He had gotten down on one knee, holding the box open, his eyes full of love for the woman in front of him but also tinted with a bit of worry. The biggest grin filled (Y/N)’s face as she nodded vigorously and lowered herself to the floor to hug him. “Yes, yes, of course I will you big dufus!” Sirius looked taken aback by the sudden gesture, almost falling back, but he smiled softly and hugged her back.  

    After holding each other for almost a minute, they stood up and Sirius slid the ring onto her finger. Making sure it was on perfectly, he moved her hand close and kissed it. (Y/N) admired the symbol of her new life. Not because of its beauty, although Sirius did make sure to pick out the best he could find, but because of what it meant for their future. Their future that they’d live out together.

    “…so, I hope you’re ready for a new stream of letters dedicated to my lovely wife-”

    “Oh Merlin, Sirius!-”

[retro-rezz-the-est]

Opposites Attract pt. 3 (Balor/Reader smut)

Summary: Balor repays you back for your actions the previous night by a tenfold, just like he said he would…

Warnings: dom!Balor, bondage, tendril usage (goes along w/ the bondage and does other things ;3), food play, orgasm control, biting, Balor being a little shit lol and I think that’s it???

Word Count: 6869

Read parts one and two here

(Y/n): your name

Bolded words is Balor speaking/his thoughts.

Author’s notes are below the cut bc they’re a tad bit long.

(A/N: I know it’s been a minute but I finally got something out lmao XD. Thx to @writinglionqueen and @writing-reigns for listening to me rant about this & for giving me feedback. Also there’s a tad (hella) bit of demon tendril porn/usage so if that makes you squeamish I’m sorry???? It’s my first time writing smth like it and if you don’t want to read it, that’s fine ^^)

(A/N #2: This is also partially dedicated to @wrestlingxbalorxrollins, since Des loved the first 2 parts and  had asked me if I ever planned on writing another part to this. This is for you, my fellow Balor Babe. I miss you and I love you <3)

~~~~~

Balor had woken up a little before you did, his black eyes shifting over to his right to admire your resting form. He lifted himself onto his elbow to properly run his eyes over you. You looked so innocent then, the natural light from outside highlighting your bare shoulder and glinting off of your hair. Everything about you in that moment was… strangely adorable to him, from the faint snoring noises you made to your naked body, hidden underneath his sheets.

Far from the vixen that had claimed him the night before.

A hand slid through your hair and you sighed in your sleep, moving closer to the man and entangling your legs with his once again. You nuzzled your cheek into his hand when he ran his palm over it and gave it a featherlight kiss, making Balor’s heart swell with affection.

You rolled onto your back just as his eyes roamed your body once more. Your now exposed breasts dipped with the falling of your chest and your nipples peaked from the chill of the air in the room. A sudden growl spilled from deep within his chest and he smiled, his pearly white teeth on display for his little corner of paradise to see.

You looked heavenly - deathfully - sinful, and exactly like his all at the same time. You looked...

…beautiful.

You were his and he was yours; you were his devilishly angelic, a double-sided goddess whom he’d let corrupt his very body and who had let him do the same to you the night before.

And he would do it again in a heartbeat.

The hand on your cheek began to trail down your jaw and drew light patterns along your neck. He moved down your collarbone and circled your breasts with the tip of his finger, making your breath hitch in your sleep. Lifting the satin blanket that covered your lower half, the demon’s eyes made their way down your stomach and lingered at the apex of your thighs.

Oh, what that deliciously sinful cunt does to him, even as you sleep…

Memories from the night before came rushing into his head then. The way your body had moved against his and the way you managed to coerce the big, bad Demon King to play nice and be so damn needy for you was unbelievable still.

Which made him love you all the more.

He ran his palm up and down the soft skin of your thighs, reveling in the feeling of you cuddling up against him more. Balor’s eyes began to close as he started to fall into a slumber when something in the back of his mind jumped out at him, something he had told you only a few hours before…

“Good, because in the morning, I’m gonna repay you back for everything ya just did to me by a tenfold, (Y/n). Just you wait.”

All other actions ceased as the hand on your leg paused its movements and his eyes snapped open. Everything in that moment just… stopped for him, giving him enough time to process the thought that just came to him.

And then, the flood came.

Idea after idea of how to punish you rushed through his mind. From infiltrating your dreamscape to give you a taste of what’s in store to pinning you down and making you cum constantly without any relief, the possibilities at his fingertips seemed endless. But, one lingered in the back of his skull that made him chuckle deeply, his chest rumbling.

Removing his hand from your leg, he sat himself up and turned you over onto your back. You still looked bewitching, ensnaring the Demon King’s very soul and toying with it from your slumber. You were the perfect Queen, darling and devilish in all the right places.

He was going to love corrupting the little innocence you had left.

With a twitch of his right hand, Balor watched as two inky black tendrils rose from the floor near the bed and moved over to him. He ran his palm over the one he was closest to, it feeling surprisingly firm despite the shadows pooling from where it emerged. They made their way over to you, easily sliding over the bedsheets and underneath your breasts, finally making their way to your wrists.

The tendrils elegantly wrapped themselves around them and your lower arms, crossing your wrists and attaching themselves to the two bedposts near your head. He summoned a few more with another flick of his wrist and began to run up your body.

Two more circled themselves around your ankles and had spread your legs, bending them at the knees before wrapping what remained of themselves around the remaining bedposts. The final two tendrils sheathed themselves underneath your breasts and squeezed firmly, coiling around your back and under the globes of your ass as well.

The demon stood up to properly admire his delicate handicraft and my, my, my, what a delicious snack you made. He felt himself get hard and nearly moaned outright at the sight of you.

You were all trussed up by the creations that he summoned with his powers, and that just made him feel all the satisfaction in the world. The tendrils seemed to look almost like a deep black velvet to the untrained eye but they were alive, and you were bound by them with only time and the demon above you as your only saviors and foes.

The sight of you like this was almost enough to make him cum right there on the spot.

He moved towards the foot of the bed like a predator stalking his prey, and he was hungry for you. His rough palms smoothed the skin of your knees as they made contact, making you squirm in the tendrils’ hold. His fingertips trailed down the skin of your calves and up your thighs for a few moments before they neared your slightly damp and inviting folds.

He stood between your legs on his knees, glancing up at your face briefly before sighing gratefully at your still closed eyes and the sound of light snoring. Pushing your thighs apart gently, he felt his beard brush against them as his mouth began to descend to the crux of your thighs.

Things were seemingly going well and good until a beast-like groan bounced off the air in the room.

Balor paused abruptly, coming back up to peer around and to find as to what the hell made that ridiculous sound. Seconds went by and the noise came up again but this time, it was quieter and more… concentrated. Looking down, he mentally slapped himself.

That’s me, isn’t it?, he thought, watching his stomach move with the rumble of the growl. Well, this body does need food constantly.

A light bulb shone in his head at the thought, making the Demon King chuckle darkly as he began to form a new plan. He moved from in between your thighs and made his way to the door, his sculpted ass facing you. Turning around, he gazed upon your form a final time before taking his leave, leaving you bound and “willingly” waiting for his return.

~~~~~

Your body’s natural alarm clock was the first thing that woke you up that morning, the second being the wondrously glorious smell of something cooking from the floor below you. You yawned and tried to raise your arms above your head to stretch, but you couldn’t.

...what the hell?

Slowly, you cracked your eyes open and trailed them up the length of your arm only to see this… thing… attached to it. Your heart beat louder as you began to struggle to get your arm free. Whatever it was that was wrapped around you looked as if someone cut off a strip of a black hole and pulled it tight around you.

You frantically turned your head to see the rest of them (what the hell even were they?) coiled around your other arm and down your torso. Your legs seemed to get the same treatment as well, seeing that you couldn’t move them at all.

What the hell?!

Wiggling slightly in your bonds, you called out, “Uh… Balor? You lurking out there somewhere? ”

The sounds of cooking downstairs dimmed before you heard the slow creak of someone coming upstairs. Your still sleep-groggy mind almost convinced you that the person was a threat, but it was by far more worse than that.

Standing in the doorway of the bedroom was a seemingly stark naked Demon King with a pink, frilly lace chef’s apron covering his front that read “I Put The Devil In Devil’s Food Cake” in deep red letters. It had heavily contrasted to literally everything about him: from the room he was standing in to his home to the way he dressed when coming out to the ring.

The fucker even had the audacity to look down at you in your… occupied… state and genuinely smile at you like nothing’s wrong with the situation at hand.

That little demon shitbiscuit.

“Ah, so the Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken. How’d ya sleep, love?”

“So, we’re just not gonna talk about the elephant in the room here…?”

He stood there looking slightly confused, but you weren’t going to fall for that easily.  

“What ‘elephant’, (Y/n)? I have done nothing wrong.”

I’m going to murder him for this when I get out of these, you thought menacingly as you scowled at his false coyness and tried to slowly motion to your currently tied up state.

“What the absolute, actual fuck did you do to me, Balor?!”

Your tone shocked him a little, but he did nothing more other than chuckle at your fussing and your attempts to escape. His onyx eyes glinted in the light, making you shiver.

“Like I said before, I did nothing wrong. I’m just making light on the promise I made last night.”

Your curiosity peaked as he said this. Quirking your brow, you asked, “Th’ hell are you talking about? You didn’t make any pr-”

…

…

“Good,” he replied, chuckling at your response, “because in the morning, I’m gonna repay you back for everything ya just did to me by a tenfold, (Y/n). Just you wait.”

…

Shit.

If you were in a cartoon in that moment, your face would have gone sheet white. You chuckled nervously and he stared back at you, his usual devilishness back in his eyes.

“Finally, she gets it. How does it feel, darling, to be on th’ other side of the ropes?”

He began to stalk towards the end of the bed with you helpless but to just watch, his aura so demeaning and him that even with that stupid apron on, you felt kinda scared to shit. Climbing onto the sheets, he crept towards your face on all fours and ran his hands up your now trembling legs.

“You see, (Y/n),” he began, his eyes locked onto the tendrils that laced your legs to the bed, “I wasn’t jokin’ when I said that I was gonna repay ya for our… frivolous… activities last night, and I want to make you ache for me.”

His right hand moved to toy with one of them, dragging his finger over it lightly and it vibrating in return. That, quite frankly, shocked you and made you jolt, the vibration rolling up to the crease of your thigh.

“These things right here? These things holding you down? They’re mine. I summoned them, and they heed to my command. Now? I have ya in my grasp and I’m not gonna let you go for some time, love,” Balor spoke, his words making you feel like the weak prey to his dominating predator.

I guess this was how he felt last night, then.

His hands moved from your legs up your stomach and to your breasts, him grabbing both roughly and pinching your nipples. You wanted to arch your back more into his grip, but the tendrils holding you down prevented you from moving. All you could do with the sudden pleasure he was dealing out was scream.

And scream you did.

His chest rumbled with an unreleased glee as he watched you try and move closer to him. “Yeah, that’s it. I’m the one in control now. I hold th’ reins and you will listen to me and me alone until I say otherwise, love.”

His Irish accent kept getting thicker and thicker with each passing second and all it did was make the newfound arousal between your legs become more prominent. Moving closer to you, he removed a hand from your breast and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Now, (Y/n), you will beg for me, and I’m gonna keep on enjoyin’ watchin’ ya squirm.”

And with that, he took two of his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them. Hearing your breathing falter, his dipped them down to circle them around your clit. Balor smirked as he saw how you tried to buck your hips to, once again, try and obtain more pleasure from him. The tendrils all seemed to tighten around your limbs, causing you to hiss.

“Stay still, pet,” he warned, shooting daggers at you, “or there’ll be consequences.”

His fingers ceased their movements for a few seconds to emphasize his point and then continued, this time moving a bit further south this time to circle your hole before plunging the digits in without warning. You yelled out and forced yourself to lie dormant, and it grew to almost impossible levels when the bastard decided that his fingers weren’t going to be enough to satisfy you.

So, what does he do?

Why, he uses that sinfully dirty tongue of his on you, of course.

His moved back down to the edge of the bed, fingers still inside of you, and placed his mouth directly over your clit. You squeezed your eyes closed to help yourself out, but he wasn’t having it at all.

Taking his hand from your other breast and pinching your inner thigh, he growled, “Don’t ya fuckin’ dare close those eyes on me. I want to see the desperate look in my toy’s eyes as she begs me to let her cum.”

This went on for a few minutes, but those minutes seemed to stretch on for eons and eons. The pleasure spike in your abdomen continued to grow with every slight movement the demon between your legs made, whether it be from a crook of his fingers into your dripping core or from a blow of cool air to your aching bud.

He was relentless and soon enough, you were on the verge of letting go.

“P-Please, Balor…” you could barely form words because you were starting to get drunk on arousal.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear ya, love. You’re gonna have to speak up a tad.”

The cockiness in his voice was apparent as he just moved his head back down and continued slurping away at your cunt, the noises making you produce more of your slick.

“Please! I need to cum.”

He hummed, the vibrations going straight to your clit. “I suppose you’ve been a good enough girl for me to let you cum just this once…”

The fingers in you began to move faster and the tendrils squeezed a bit tighter. Most of your senses were being targeted and you couldn’t do anything to stop the incoming ave of pleasure from crashing into you. His beard scruffing along your wet folds once, twice, three times was enough to do you in.

And then he pulled away.

...wait, what? What happened? you pondered to yourself, still a little drunk off arousal. You heard a snap and the tendrils loosened their grip to where they first started from.

“Hey, what the hell?! You bastard, I was about to cum!”

“I told you I was gonna make ya ache for me, right? I said that I held the reins over ya, correct?”

You said nothing, still pissed at the now decaying orgasm fading from your veins.

“That also means I have control over when your orgasms too, sweetheart.”

His cat-like grin was met with your immediate protests of disbelief and anger. But before you could finish, he held up his finger and shushed you. He patted your leg ith his free hand and sucked your juices from his fingers, making your inner walls throb.

“Anyways, love, keep th’ bed warm for me? I’ve got breakfast on and this body needs food.”

You sputtered, “Excuse me? We’re not done here, Balor!”

“For the time being, we are,” he said, standing up and wiping his hand on the apron. Turning around, you got to get a glimpse of his toned ass as he made his way to the door. He glanced back at you a final time before chuckling again, shutting the bedroom door behind him with a soft click.

“Oh, it’s official now,” you murmured to no one. “I’m actually going to murder that sexy, cocky, teasing son of a bitch today.”

~~~~~~

The waiting was the hard part.

You knew he was coming back eventually - he had to - but after that door closed, time seemed to drag on for forever. There weren’t any clocks in his room and since you didn’t bring a watch with you the night before, you had no idea what time it was.

All that you did know was that he was still in the kitchen, most likely still in that stupid fucking apron and laughing to himself at your helpless expense. The smells wafting in from there and through the bottom crack of the door were lovely, however, and you couldn’t help but to drool a little at the thought of what he could cook up.

You tried to distract yourself from the still present arousal between your thighs by trying to rub them together, but that had failed miserably due to the fact that the shadowy tendrils around you would tighten their grip every time you did.

After what seemed like nearly a million years of waiting (and many more failed attempts to try and get yourself off), the doorknob finally jiggled a bit and Balor strode in, arms crossed behind his back and a grin on his face. The apron was gone and his bare… everything… was on display for you to admire. You inhaled, feeling your heartbeat spike as his aura filled the room around him.

“I see you’ve been busy in here, (Y/n),” he began, his dark eyes trailing up your body to your flushed face. “Are ya alright?”

Any other day, you would gladly tolerate his smugness. It was annoyingly hot, after all. But today, it just seemed to piss you off to a very high extent…

… with the added “benefit” of getting wetter than before.

“You know if you asked me that this morning, I would’ve said that I was lightly pissed, but fine nonetheless. Now, I want to actively strangle with one of your dress ties.”

Balor laughed at that, the noise warming you to the bone like a nice drink on a cold night. He walked closer to the bed with his hands still behind his back and stood to your right, eyeing the scattered pieces of your dress from the prior night lingering on the floor space around him.

“I do love this li’l contrast of yours, however. It’s… very you, in a sense.”

“... the hell do you mean?”

Continuing, he added, “I mean everything you do - are - is flawless. Ya managed to bring one of th’ most dangerous men alive down to his knees and made him beg at your feet for release and just mere hours later, you’re bound to his will; my will. My li’l toy made to please me however I’d like.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the only noises being your collective breathing and your heartbeat in your ears.

“I’m gonna make ya want me, darlin’, and this is gonna be a great way to start.”

He moved his hands from behind his back, and…

Oh, fuck me.

In his right hand was a bottle of chocolate syrup and in the other, a can of whipped cream, caps gone and ready to be used. You audibly gulped, your legs trembling from the new tingling sensation you were getting.

He chuckled darkly at your newfound expressions, his eyes swimming with curiosity and lust that made their blackness look even darker up close. Setting both of them on the dresser next to the bed, he ran a hand up your chest and towards the tendril that wrapped itself around your breast.

“Where’d all tha’ confidence from earlier go? Melted away, is that right? You acted all high and mighty before, but you really just wanted to be fuckin’ owned, didn’t ya?”

You so wanted to hit him when he cracked that slight grin but you physically couldn’t. So, you just sat there and let his ministrations continue.

Flicking his wrist once, it tightened its grip once more and stayed there, not letting up like before. Balor twisted your nipple harshly before swallowing your cries with a rough kiss, stealing the air from your lungs. He bit your bottom lip to make you gasp and he slid his tongue against yours. The two of you melded together perfectly, which is why you whined and strained your head closer to his own when he pulled away.

“Now, now, sweetheart,” he chided, “I don’t wanna get too carried away here. The show might be over before it even begins.”

He turned his attention back to the toppings that sat waiting on his dresser. He picked them up and turned back to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You remained silent as he approached you, your words failing you.

“I was gonna use these to top off the wonderful breakfast that I made, but I figured tha’ I could use them to top off something more worthwhile…”

Your eyes flicked from the syrup in his left hand to the whipped cream in his right and back again, still unable to form words. He moved the two closer to you and kneeled down to whisper in your ear.

“So, which one’ll it be, (Y/n)? Left or right?”

He asked you so softly that you almost didn’t hear it, but you knew it was coming. You could almost see him spraying the whipped cream around your nipples and sucking it off each one as if he had all the time in the world, savoring the taste of the sugar on your soft skin and spreading it around the two globes.

The chocolate syrup didn’t fare you much better, as it too infiltrated your mind with filthy thoughts. You saw him spreading it around your mouth and kissing you, licking the sweet from your lips and trailing his now chocolate coated ones down your neck to bury his teeth into the skin.

It was all a little too much for you to handle with his gorgeous (and quite naked) body standing mere inches away from you. Your cheeks flushed with more heat as more fantasies came to mind, Balor clearly amused by the show.

He asked you, “What’s th’ matter, love? Cat got your tongue? I thought tha’ was my job.”

You whimpered and flexed your hips, attempting to look away from his lustful gaze, nut he wasn’t having it.

“If ya don’t choose now, I will, and ya won’t like what I have in store for ya. I don’t wanna punish you this early into this li’l game of ours,” he whispered again, toying with your earlobe with his teeth. “That’ll jus’ take the fun out of things.”

Swimming past all of the erotic thoughts that clouded your mind, you were finally able to move your mouth and form some semblance of words.

“I… I want-”

“Again with this meek voice of yours, (Y/n)? We both know you’re much louder than that.”

Images of you and Balor from last night popped into your head. At this point, you felt as if something had touched your face, it would burst into flames immediately because of how hot your skin felt. Still, you persisted, but louder than before.

“I… I choose the left option…”

Another smile made its way to his face, brightening the atmosphere in the room a little more. “Very nice. Now, how do good li’l toys talk to their masters?”

As if you couldn’t get any more heated, here you fucking are.

His tone made you feel so small, and yet the clear arousal in his voice marked how much he wanted you.

“I choose the chocolate first,... my King.”

The demon’s pearly whites came out to play as he growled, “There ya go, sweetheart.”

Standing up to his full height again, he set the can of whipped cream down and tilted the syrup bottle over his mouth, pouring a little inside. You could see his half-hard cock bounce against his thigh as he moved around the bed to climb back between your legs and kissed you. The sweetness of the chocolate on his tongue mixed with the taste of his mouth made you moan, sliding yours against his to relish in it.

The two of you continued this dance for a number of minutes, you both savoring the taste of each other as he periodically swirled more of the chocolate around your lips and mouth with his tongue. He licked his lips when he moved away, feeling you shudder as you watched him.

He gripped your jaw and tilted your head to the side to drizzle the chocolate on your neck. He didn’t know why, but watching the dark substance spill over your skin and pool in the dip of your collarbone while you submitted to him did something to him. It made him hungry, ravenous even.

It made him hungry for you.

But before he moved down to lap at the sweet, he said, “I want ya to keep your eyes on me th’ entire time. If ya look away for even a second, I’ll stop and make you wait here for as long as I want ya to. Is that understood?”

He was met with your response followed by a swift nod. “Yes, my King.”

“Good girl.”

He dove down and began his journey to mark you. He placed featherlight kisses up and down your neck, making you squirm and whine his name.

“Balor, my King, please…”

“Patience, little girl,” he responded, continuing to eat the chocolate from your skin. He scraped at your skin with his teeth and you hissed, feeling the small sharp points pass. Sucking your pulse into his mouth, he bit down ruthlessly and worried it with his teeth until a dark bruise formed.

He came back up to admire his work and you could see something growing in those eyes of his. The process repeated as he moved down and around the column of flesh and you kept on yelling out into the air, helpless to his touch.

Lick, suck, bite.

Lick, suck, bite.

Lick, suck, bite.

Over and over and over again.

He didn’t stop until all the chocolate on your neck and collarbone were gone and in their place were hickies and bruises that varied in size and shade. The thin coat of his saliva shone dimly in the light and your body still twitched in anticipation for what was to come. You heard the bottle’s contents being poured onto your breasts, the sticky syrup making your nipples perk up.

You could feel the aura in the room bend and shake with the cackle he let out. “I wonder if these’ll taste as sweet as that cunt of yours does…”

He looked directly in your eyes as he said this and your breath stopped. He looked so deep in lust that he was very much drowning it, and you weren’t complaining one bit. His tongue came back out to play and swirled the chocolate around your left nipple, you trying to arch your back to push his mouth closer.

Holding your right breast up, he drew his knee in and ground it against your folds, making you scream suddenly at the dual pleasure and thank Balor mentally for living somewhere with no neighbors who’d think you were getting murdered. He moved on to your other nipple when the first on was clean of chocolate, sucking it into his warm mouth and biting down on it.

“Fuck!” you cried out, feeling your orgasm fastly approaching. You tried to grind your folds on the leg between your own but he pinched your side to cease your movements.

“Ya only get to cum when I say you can, (Y/n), or I’m gonna punish ya,” he snarled. “This is your second strike, love. Don’t make me do this again.”

You haven’t seen him bare his teeth at you like that before so instead of barking back with your own response, you decided to nod to avoid that confrontation. Both of your nipples were good and puffy by the time he finished working on them, complete with a matching set of hickies on your breasts to match the ones on your neck.

The way his mouth followed the streams of chocolate syrup that he poured down your abdomen and around the tendrils that held you was hypnotising, and watching him slide down to  gaze upon your dripping slick even more so. It was like watching him crawl down and slide into a wrestling ring to face an opponent.

Neither had ever failed to make you wet, though.

Your upper body felt colder without his to cover it, but you were pretty sure that you would get a whole lot warmer soon. The demon poured chocolate over two of his fingers and pushed them into your mouth, your eager tongue ready to clean them off.

Running his beard up and down your inner thighs, he admired the slick that pooled in your folds; that was so ready to be tasted by him. The hairs on his chin made slight burns on the soft skin but you didn’t care: you were ready to feel his mouth on you again.

The sudden snapping of his fingers startled you, you seeing another tendril seem to faze through the bed and perk up next to him. It was the same shade of black as the ones that held you, but this one was much thinner than them. It moved towards you when Balor flicked his wrist and slid up your leg, placing itself directly over your clit.

The bottle of chocolate landed on the floor with a thud and he slipped his fingers from your mouth, drawing them over your lower lips and hearing you groan. He then leisurely slid the two digits into your sopping heat, making you curse and bite down on your lower lip.

That’s when the vibrating started.

The tendril on your clit began to vibrate at a very low level but you could still feel it. You jerked, still held in place by the larger tendrils.

“Shit, damnit, Balor!”

A laugh erupted from his body as he watched your head shake back and forth. “My, my, love, what a mouth you have on ya.”

His fingers curled with every pass into you, catching that one spot in you over and over again. “S-Screw you… Balor…”

“Well, is that any way to speak to your King?”

He feigned his shock with a dropped jaw and leaned back, going back in quickly to join his tongue with his fingers. The tendril on your clit increased its vibrations and you bucked your hips as best you could, the tendrils around you not tightening this time. He obnoxiously slurped at the slick that poured from your cunt, cupping your ass with his free hand and groping one of your cheeks.

You threw your head back when he plunged his tongue into you to get a better taste and he moaned at the combined taste of the leftover chocolate on his tongue and the sweetness of your juices.

“As if your cunt couldn’t get any sweeter, I get proven wrong yet again.”

Balling your hands into fists, you shut your eyes abruptly as to try and not cum so quickly. And that was your final mistake.

The vibrations on your clit seemed to stop just as quickly and the fingers in you were drawn out, and you opened your eyes to see a heated Balor glaring back at you.

“What did I tell you earlier about your eyes, (Y/n)?” he asked, the gruffness in his accent making you like a small mouse.

“You told me… you told me to keep my eyes on you at all times…”

“And what did you just do?”

You felt like you were being berated by a parent in that moment. “... I took my eyes off of you.”

“That’s right, darlin’. That was your third strike. Now, what should I do t’ punish you?”

He seemed to be asking you that question, so you responded with the first answer that came to your head.

“Whatever you wish, my King.”

That seemed to peak his interest which had also made the room’s aura grow darker despite the light coming through the windows.

I’m gonna take advantage of that one, he thought, standing back up to grab the can on whipped cream and shaking it. He sprayed a generous amount on your folds and took the chocolate syrup bottle, drizzling some more on top of the whipped cream. Flicking his wrist again, the tendril on your clit began to vibrate and sped up to an eleven.

He dove down to lick up the mix of sweet between your thighs and gripped your ass with both hands, making sure to get every last drop of you. He murmured, “So creamy,” before looking right back up at you and licking a stripe up your folds.

“I can feel ya tensin’ up on my tongue, love. Just cum for me. Cum for me now,” he growled into you and sucked your folds into his mouth.

That wave you’d been holding back since earlier crashed back into you and you succumbed to the feeling of your release. You shook in the tendrils’ hold and gasped, trying to suck the air that was punched out of you back into your lungs.

Balor chuckled into you, the added vibrations making you shudder, but he didn’t stop. As your slick poured out of you, he buried his face deeper into your cunt. You could see that his beard was glistening from you and his cheeks were red but he kept going.

Pleasure ran through your veins once more and soon enough, you were right back on that edge again, ready to fall. He slurped up the remainder of the sweet toppings from you and stuck his fingers back in, ignoring your cries.

“Fuck, my King, I’m gonna… shit!”

“Yes, my love. Cum for me again like th’ good li’l pet I know you are.”

His fingers were so long and seemed to touch every bit of your walls simultaneously and along with the intenseness of the vibrations to your hard nub, you quickly came again. You screamed out loud and panted, trying to catch your breath once again but Balor wanted you,

And what he wants, he takes.

Slowly, he drew his fingers from you and spread them, watching your juices catch the morning light. He moved his hand down and began pumping himself, mixing your slick with his pre-cum as he watched you.

Oh, how you wished to get that cock in your mouth again, to feel its heavy weight on your tongue and to feel it stretch your throat to its limit. You wanted to swallow him and all that he gave you down like a good girl. You wanted to please him.

He shuffled up onto his knees and his cock bounced with his movements. You were almost drooling at the moment and nearly choked on your own spit when he rubbed the head of it through your folds, catching it on your clit occasionally.

Snapping his fingers with his free hand, the tendrils that wrapped themselves around your legs and the one lingering on your clit dissipated into thin air. Your legs fell flat and you sighed at the blood flowing through them again. Balor grabbed both of your ankles and moved them to bring your knees to your chest, folding you in half.

You weren’t ready for the breach of his cockhead into your hole, nor were you prepared for him to enter you so quickly. With a snap of his lithe hips, he filled you completely and your mouth fell open.

He rutted into you like an animal, striking your cervix with almost every thrust. His pelvis started to grind down on your clit and you whimpered, your only other option being to move your body along with his. Your folds were puffy and you continued to leak slick that coated his cock.

He saw you thrusting your hips back against his and said, “Aww, look at ya, so needy for my cock to fill ya and claim you as my own. Just desperate to cum even though you already came twice in a row…”

“Yes, my King,” you replied, whining when he slowly ground his hips on yours. “I’m your greedy little girl.”

His hand dug into the skin of your calves as he pushed them towards you. His free hand moved to your breast and twisted your nipples again, the pain jolting through you like lightning and making you wetter with each passing second. Your vision started to get cloudy but you kept your eyes trained on his, oh so lost in the desire.

He slapped the side of your breast to keep you focused and did so with the other, going back and forth between the two until he could feel the heat radiating off of the flesh. You were so close to cumming again (you didn’t know how in the fuck your body was able to orgasm so many times in that short of a time period) but you just needed that final push.

Luckily for you, Balor was right behind you and rubbed at your clit with the rough pad of his thumb. The look in his eyes was desperate and needy and you could tell that yours looked the exact same way, maybe even worse. With a few more rough thrusts and sweeps of his thumb, you both fell over the edge with a shout, him holding onto your legs for dear life.

Your combined pants fell heavy on the air and you could smell the familiar scent of sex wafting. The remaining tendrils around your torso and that held your wrists together faded into nothing, and you fell to the bed with a exhausted “oof”. Rolling onto your side, you could feel the bed shift and him fall in line right behind you, his abdomen rippling with his breath.

You felt the sudden movement of fingers hit your side and move down to your sensitive lips. Fingertips brushed past your clit and dipped into the dripping mess of your and his cum between your legs.

“N-No, Balor, please,” you whined, attempting to move away from his touch. “It’s too much for me.”

“You can and will cum one more time for me, (Y/n). Ya don’t wanna disappoint your King now, would ya?”

Heavens, no, you thought.

His other arm slid around your waist so he could drag you closer to his waiting mouth, kissing you softly. Your tongues danced with each other and you could still taste your juices on him as he plunged his fingers back into you, pushing more cum out of you with each pass. This time around, it was much slower. Less fast pace and more focused on targeting that pleasure you were seeking again.

Turning your head to look at him, you saw his eyes. Those black cesspools held so much in them, but one thing’s for sure: they held a care and love for you. He needed you to cum, and you couldn’t deny him any further with the pleasure building deeper in your body.

Pumping your hips with his fingers, he slipped a third in and that broke the damn for you a final time. You broke the lip connection and gaped, no sound coming from your mouth. Limbs tightening, you flooded his hand with your cum and fell back onto the sheets contently. You didn’t know when you fell asleep again but you did, curled up against Balor with his fingers still inside you.

Breakfast can wait, he thought, brushing your hair away from your sweaty face. Your eyes grew soft and your hands still found their place where his arm met your hip. She’s too cute to wake up now.

And so deliciously full of sin.

You were his double-edged Queen, and you were his.

Quite literally, you two were made for each other.

~~~~~

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[whoever-iwant-tobe]

It wasn’t meant to be a long game. (part 1 of ?)

David x Natalie-- honestly, what I imagine their history and life to be. Obviously this is made up, but some of the actual timeline stuff is most positively messed up because my memory is shit so just pretend my timeline is entirely fictional so that you aren’t holding me to any type of standards. This is my first fic ever and is probably teeming with errors.

Warnings: none YET. No promises on part 2.

___________________________________

You were surprised when you got the text. 

“What are your plans for the next 6 months”

“?????”

You hadn’t talked to him for a while, you were in your last semester of classes before your internship (not to mention the hunt for an internship that wouldn’t make you want to absolutely die) and he was living a zillion miles away. On top of that, you both had separate lives now, relationships, separate friends.

“Dave what are you talking about?”

Facetime request from David. When you answer, you don’t even try to hide the confused look on your face.

“I want you to be my assistant. It can be your internship! Since I’m an LLC or whatever the fuck, it can be legit. I’ll pay you! I’ll pay more than the fancy event planning place downtown will. Come onnnn”

“I’m sorry but why the fuck do you need an assistant?”

“Jack says I need one and honestly my world is kind of a giant mess right now and you’re the only one I can imagine trusting to help run my life”

“Dave, I don’t know. LA is so far, and then there’s Shawn... I just don’t know”

“I promise, I’ll make it worth your while. 6 months, then you can help me find someone to replace you if you wanna leave”

So, you went.

That was 18 months ago, and you were still in LA. But your life was completely different. Now, when you went in public, people stopped and asked for pictures. What started as picking up Chipotle for Dave turned into sitting in his trailer on sets, coordinating with his publicist (yes, a publicist!), and training people to do the grunt work that used to be yours. What started as parking tickets in your dad’s hand-me-down car parked outside of Bellingham turned into making yourself a home in the place you shared with David overlooking the better bits of the city. 

What also changed was that you and David were both single, out of long term relationships that, if we’re being honest, never had a shot at lasting. They felt perfect for both of you from the thick of it, but once you were on the outside, the troubles were glaringly obvious. 

What didn’t change was the way you bickered like people who’d known each other half a lifetime, the way he listened when you put your foot down, or the way his bullshit antics still made you laugh even when you knew they were risky as hell. 

9 months ago, something shifted. Where you used to tiptoe around each other out of respect for the other’s partner, walls came down. David didn’t feel like he needed to keep such a healthy distance like he did when Shawn was still in the picture. You didn’t feel like an outsider interfering with every little mention or memory of Liza like you did before. Now you could be the actual best friends you were before it all. Before the fame and before Liza and Shawn and before all of this.

You were 14 when you found out he had a crush on you, but the thing about being a 14 year old girl is that you don’t actually feel like you’re ‘allowed’ to have a crush on whoever you want. Like whoever you’re crushing on needs to be someone who will impress your friends. Now you know it’s bullshit, but 14 year old you knew that your goofy, kind of dorky next door neighbor wasn’t going to be a crush that would impress anyone. So you did the logical thing, something you’ll probably regret for the rest of forever, and decided that you were only going to “have crushes on football players,” because that would impress your friends. You couldn’t imagine the teasing you’d endure if your girlfriends heard about the soft spot you had for your dorky next door neighbor, so you repressed. You repressed it until you didn’t even really believe it was there either.

You didn’t know that your 14 year old next door neighbor was kind of crushed when he found out you were not only not interested in him, but the guys you were crushing on were nothing like him. 14 year old David had lots of friends, and it kind of protected him from comparing himself or categorizing himself, but seeing you choose the football players was quite possibly the biggest ego blow of his whole life. It was where he realized that people have leagues, and you were out of his. Way out of his. So, like you, he repressed. He accepted friendship because he still wanted you in his life. Like a lot. So he pursued a friendship, and you were open to it because you wanted him in your life too. He teased and played with you, but he knew where he thought he stood, and he didn’t push it.

Adult Dave and Natalie were playing the same game you’d started when your were 14. Repression, denial of feelings. Except David wasn’t the dorky next door neighbor with braces anymore, and having crushes wasn’t for impressing your friends anymore. But the damage was done. Despite millions of dollars and followers, admiration, and all the fancy things he could want, David still had it internalized that you were miles out of his league. So you stayed in your leagues. 

This is where the regret of a 14 year old girl haunts a 22 year old woman. Its where she wonders what would be different, if the damage is too much to overcome, or if it would even be worth it. 

Ever since his public breakup and your private one (exposed by the stans, to no real fault of anyone-- everyone was bound to catch on), things have changed. He’s more open with you, your relationship is more balanced, and those little voids in your lives that your partners left are being filled with each other. You’re an assumed duo, a de facto pair. You tell each other more than you have in years, and you lean into one another for support. You’re closer than you’ve ever been. You start to miss him when you travel separately, and that is confusing to you. You start to notice how good he looks when he’s fresh out of yet another shower, before he’s picked a truly stupid fight with you that ends up in fits of laughter from you both (or some passive aggressive twitter activity). The regret of a 14 year old girl creeps back-- the girl who’s own self consciousness about who she should “like” had broken her neighbor’s heart, spirit, and ego. She’d spent their formative years denying she ever “liked” him like that, and he’d spent his convincing himself he could never have her, until he’d convinced himself to put her out of his mind.

When there was distance, it was easy to squash feelings. Out of sight, out of mind. When the distance was gone and she’d moved in with him, they both had their own stacked deck of distractions. Even though she was micromanaging his life and the physical distance was gone, there was still an emotional barrier. They had other partners and they were friends with a business relationship. Hell, he didn’t even claim her as one of his best friends in interviews. She wondered if she deserved that, after she’d crushed his spirit at 14. 

But then the barriers broke, your relationships ended-- his was a long and brutal 12 months of pining. Your decision had been made months before you finally cut the cord, though. So your breakup was a bit easier. Once you were both “over it,” so to speak, you threw yourselves into your work. Dave was making moves online, you helped Jack find him a publicist, and his schedule was exploding. Time that used to be spent sitting around at Bellingham, picking up food, and booking prop- animals was long gone. You were being put in the vlogs more, which was not your favorite, but you knew how much David loved it. He always loved your reactions, and you weren’t one to make him unhappy on purpose unless he deserved it.

Now it was interviews and premieres and bringing your new LA friend on as another assistant to lighten the load. You had a fanbase now, and like a million followers and fan accounts. You were traveling more, in big groups, in small groups with just the two of you and Jason, and sometimes just you and Dave. Your favorite was when it was just the 2 or 3 of you. You didn’t have to be always on, didn’t have to impress anyone, and you could be yourselves. And as much as Dave loves surrounding himself with action and chaos, you knew he loved those trips too. The two of you were growing closer and it made your heart feel full.

There was a turning point for the two of you, and it hit right around the time you helped him put together a whole sham marriage as a prank on Jason. The two of you were side-by-side in your first class seats on a late night flight to Boston to get Lorraine. You couldn’t bring anyone with or draw attention to yourselves online or it would blow your cover. So for the first time in a really long time, the two of you got to be normal. No rush to edit, no stories to post. You got to talk and laugh and relax for those glorious hours, 30,000ish feet in the air. You wrapped yourselves in the airline blankets and talked about the things you’d avoided. How you were both doing post-break up. Who you thought should get married next (besides David and Lorraine and Erin and TJ-- your vote was Heath and Mariah). Before you knew it, you found yourselves in a game of 20 questions, just like when you were teens. It was like the universal 13-15 year old way to flirt or to tell someone you like them or to find out who they liked. But there you were, two grownass adults in first classs, leaning on your sides and playing 20 questions.

“So are you over over Shawn?” yes.

Will you ever be over Liza? “I’m almost there.”

“What happened with us?” We’ve always been friends.

“No, like why did we grow apart?” Well I went to college, and you chased your dreams.

“Do you ever wish some things had gone differently when we were younger?” Absolutely. 

For the first time in a really, really long time, the two of you just looked at one another. Silently. For a long time. It wasn’t awkward. It was like you were both thinking about the same thing without discussing it aloud.

After a good long while, David finally spoke. “I’m glad we’re doing this together Nat. I couldn’t do it without you.”

“Me too, Dave”

And you both knew that neither of you were talking about the sham marriage he was about to get into. You were talking about this life you were now building together.

Before you knew it, your eyes had grown heavy. The two of you fell asleep face to face, propped up by the airline seats you never fully converted into beds, and for the first time in a while, feeling content.

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

[more to come when I find the time]

[crimsoncobaltblue]

Joint Custody - Huebby (Alternate Meeting AU)

(Oof this is late but this is for Art! I hope you had a happy birthday @artproductionsofficial ! You had written a lil Huebby fic on Discord and that was kinda my inspiration for this. I hope ya like it! :3 Oh and this fic is kind of like Alternate Meeting AU I guess. Tbh I just randomly thought of this at like 1 am xD)

————————

Huey strolled up to the library, a stack of books in his arms.

He strained to see over the stack of books he had to return but, by some miracle, he made it to the book return box outside the building.

Huey sighed, relieved to have gotten rid of the heavy load finally. “Thanks for all the help, you guys.” Huey turned toward his brothers, sarcasm pouring from his voice.

“No problem.” Louie responded nonchalantly, smiling absently at his phone.

Dewey was simply just staring at the library, a look of confusion on his face. Huey guessed that Dewey never knew there was a library here.

“Do we have to go inside?” Dewey asked as he gazed longingly at the park a block away from here.

Huey sighed. It would be easier to look out for his brothers if they were all together in the same place. Besides it would keep Uncle Donald from scolding him. However, Huey noticed Dewey was literally bouncing on his heels, ready to run toward the park that he was still staring at.

Huey decided it would be better for them to split up. Huey would get in more trouble if he let Dewey run around a library instead of just letting him go to the park.

“No, Dewey, you can go to the park. Louie has to go with you though.” Huey said, with a nod, as if he were agreeing with himself.

“Aw, man! I wanted to sit in the nice air-conditioned library instead! Come on Huey!” Louie complained.

Huey shook his head. “I’ll just run inside and get the book I came for, then I’ll meet you in the park.” Huey said before he added, “That way we’ll all suffer together. Just as all families should.”

Dewey chuckled a little. “I don’t know what you guys are meaning, it’d be so boring in there! That would be where we’d truly suffer.” Dewey claimed.

Huey and Louie looked at each other with matching faces that read “Is he serious?”

Huey held in a sigh. “Alright, I’ll see you over there in a bit.” Huey turned away and started up the stairs.

“Hey, Louie,” Dewey asked and Louie glances up from his phone. “Wanna race?” Dewey asked.

“No.”

“Alright! Ready, set,” Dewey paused in his starting, looking at Louie expectantly.

Louie rolled his eyes, seemingly deciding to humor him. “Go!” He said loudly and Dewey took off. Louie shook his head, obviously smiling a bit at his brother’s ridiculous actions.

Huey smiled at that interaction. ‘I’m glad I stopped long enough to see that, those two seriously don’t interact enough,’ he thought as he turned and jogged up the rest of the stairs, past the big stone lions, and through the large wooden doors.

Huey breathed in deeply as he stepped inside. There was always something so great about the smell of libraries and bookstores. Something comforting.

Huey strode past the check-out desk and into the labyrinth of book shelves, like how Theseus did in search of the Minotaur. Only less dangerous and with books instead of whatever the labyrinth was made of.

Huey reminded himself he’d probably have to reread that myth since he couldn’t remember what the labyrinth was made of. Honestly he was slipping.

He paused as he finally found the biography section. ‘Another day, Theseus,’ he thought as he started looking for a specific biography. ‘I’ve got a different hero to read about this time.’

—————

Huey focused his thoughts on looking for the right biography: The Complete Life of Scrooge McDuck.

He had read many of Scrooge McDuck’s biographies but reading this book would help fill in some blanks made from skipping over some of his biographies since the library didn’t always have them all. He shook his head to clear away the thoughts. He hated that he skipped some of those books.

Huey gasped a little and smiled, seeing the enormous book right there in front of him. It had to be seven hundred pages at least! It was glorious! Huey reached for the book only to find someone else’s hand already there.

He turned to his right and saw a girl. He was surprised he hadn’t noticed her.

“How long have you been here?” He asked her.

She looked confused. “Um. I’ve been in this aisle longer than you have?” She answered hesitantly as she pointed to a mini throne made of books just a short ways down the aisle.

“Oh.” Huey said, looking her over. She was around his age and height. She had short hair with a pink bow in it. And her hair looked kind of ruffled, like she had been here and fallen asleep.

“Sorry.” He said, remembering his manners. “I’m Huey.” He held out his hand for her to shake.

“Hi, I’m Webby!” She said loudly and Huey retracted his hand and shushed her.

“Sorry!” She whisper-yelled and Huey made sure no one seemed disturbed. Thankfully no one was. He turned back to her kicking her foot at the hardwood floors sheepishly.

Huey blushed, suddenly realizing that this girl was actually kind of cute.

He shook his head. He couldn’t be thinking that way, otherwise he’d walk out of this library and his brother would see him blushing and tease him endlessly. He really didn’t feel like being teased right now.

“Anyways,” Huey said with a cough. “I’ll just take my book here and leave to your book throne over there... Your Highness?” Huey tried to be funny but it came off as weird. Huey wished he could slap himself.

The girl, Webby, thankfully laughed a little bit though. Huey smiled back, praying his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “No, I’m afraid you can’t leave with that book.” Webby said, still laughing.

Huey raised an eyebrow at her. “And why not?”

Webby pulled herself together and hefted the book into her arms from the shelf. “Because, I put my hand on it first. And I’ve been waiting here to read this book for my research.”

Huey gave her a questioning look. She had obviously fallen asleep in that book throne, and took the time to build a book throne so he doubted she was taking her “research” seriously.

“Well I’m sorry to hear that Webby, but I’ve been waiting for weeks to come and get that book.”

They both glared at each other for a minute. Huey despised the fact that he had thought she was cute earlier.

“There isn’t a second copy, is there?” Huey asked.

They both looked at the bookshelf and saw none even close to the size of the book Webby held.

“Why don’t we ask the librarian?” Huey suggested.

Webby thought for a moment before nodding. “Fine, I’ll have to persuade the librarian to become my ally in this fight.” She said seriously.

“Yeah, alright,” He said absentmindedly, already trying to make a case for himself.

———————

“Sorry,” the librarian, Janice, said as her intimidating assistant set the book on the counter. Jerry, her assistant was an enomorous bear and even he gave a noise at picking up the book.

Huey held up one hand. “Um, ‘sorry that there isn’t a second copy’ or ‘sorry, you’re afraid Webby here can’t have this book’?” He questioned.

Webby piped up. “Excuse me, I think it’s probably going to be ‘sorry, you’re afraid Huebert here can’t have this book but I totally can.’” Webby said while sending Huey a glare.

Huey looked at her surprised. “How did you know my name is Huebert?” He hadn’t told her his real name, and it wasn’t a common name either.

She looked at him like he was crazy before the librarian cleared her throat and that prevented Webby’s explaination.

“Sorry to all three of your guesses. We don’t have a second copy available and neither of you are allowed to take it home.”

“WHAT??” They both yelled, only to be immediately shushed by basically the entire library.

“Why not?” They both asked at the same time. Huey tried to pretend it wasn’t too weird.

Janice looked bored. “Huey, you have too many books checked out-“

“I put them in the return box today!” He interrupted.

“They aren’t technically checked back in until they’ve been brought inside from the book box.”

Huey felt an embarrassed blush rise up as Webby snickered.

“And you Webbigail,” Janice turned her ruthless words toward the girl duckling. “have a horrible habit of losing books and since this is our only copy, I can’t let you check it out.”

Huey started to chuckle at seeing Webby blush a bit.

“I told you, Janice! That manticore really did steal all those books-“ Webby started but Janice cut her off.

“I’ve heard your stories before, Webbigail. Now,” Janice settled into her seat. “You two are free to read the book here, I’ll even put it on hold so that way you two can come back tomorrow and finish it without anyone else checking it out. Find a way to share. Off you go now.” Janice turned away from them as her silent assistant Jerry the bear handed Huey the book.

Webby stormed toward the tables and chairs but not before calling back, “Why couldn’t you help a fellow book worm out?”

Janice the book worm didn’t look at her. “I would be insulted that you called yourself a book worm if I actually cared. Sorry.” Janice replied, adjusting her glasses with the end of her body.

Webby deflated with a sigh.

Huey was secretly impressed with Webby though. Janice had kind of intimidated him with her words but Webby’s yelling at her made him want to laugh in triumph.

“Let’s find a table to read at.” Huey said, heading toward a small table.

“Alright.” She said giving in. Huey sat down and Webby took the seat right next to him so they could read it. “Why do you even want to read this book anyways?” Webby asked.

Huey paused, trying to think of the best way to word this. “Scrooge McDuck is kind of my hero, I guess. He’s like a modern day version of those old Greek heroes only he never dies or gets tricked. He always thinks his way out of a situation and I admire that I suppose.” Huey explained, feeling a blush creep up on him again.

Webby smiled and nodded, obviously struggling to hold back her excitement. “That’s cool! Scrooge McDuck is my hero too! The way he can fight and all the adventures he’s gone on! ALL THE COOL MYTHICAL ANIMALS!!” She yelled and Huey shushed her again, smiling bashfully at passers by.

“Sorry!” She whisper yelled again.

“You really should work on your inside voice.” Huey said. Normally, he would be annoyed with that kind of thing, but with her, it was just plain endearing.

“What’s an inside voice?” She asked, tilting her head in an adorable way. Huey laughed a little bit.

‘Gosh what am I thinking? Endearing? Adorable? Really? Since when did you start crushing on this girl?’ Huey scolded himself.

‘Since the moment you met her. Duh.’ Huey’s mind whispered back and he rolled his eyes a bit.

‘Shut up brain.’ He retorted before realizing he was absolutely insane for arguing with his mind.

“No, seriously,” Webby’s voice brought him back to reality. “What’s an inside voice?” She looked very confused but Huey only shook his head.

“Never mind about that, let’s get to reading.”

Webby still seemed very confused but she simply shrugged and turned her full smile on the cover of the book, clearly excited to get to read it.

Huey understood that feeling, and he struggled not to smile at her awed gazed at the book.

——————

“Wait! Wait! Don’t turn the page yet!” Webby said loudly. Huey would’ve hushed her again but after an hour of reading with her, he gave up on trying to get her to quiet down. At least now the other people here had learned to just ignore her.

“I’ve been reading as slowly as I can, Webby. Why do you read so slow?” He asked.

“Because I have to absorb all this information for my research.” She replied, sounding very proud of her so called research.

Huey still had his doubts about how seriously she took her research.

“And just what are you researching?” Huey questioned and Webby’s eyes gleamed with excitement. Huey sighed, immediately realizing he may have just made a mistake.

“I’m researching the entire McDuck family.” She said in hushed tones.

This made Huey pay attention. This was the first time she managed to keep her voice down low.

“I mean, Scrooge McDuck is great for sure! And he’s my hero! But the rest of his family can be just as interesting once you start looking.” She explained in a mysterious way that made Huey want to start his own research.

“You’re joking right?” Huey said, trying to curb his hopes. He doubted Scrooge McDuck’s family is as interesting as she says.

“No way.” She looked serious as she spoke. She paused, thinking for a minute. “You see how big this book is?” She asked and Huey nodded, intrigued as to where she was going with this.

“This would probably be the size of the first volume in a set on all the incredible, interesting, mysteriously magical things the entire McDuck clan has done.”

Huey felt his heart leap at the thought of that many amazing stories. Scrooge had several biographies out about his adventures but there were none on his relatives. Huey hadn’t really cared to know about Scrooge McDuck’s relatives. Until now that is.

“Really?” He asked awestruck. Webby nodded, a huge grin plastered on her face.

“Really.” She said as she turned to the next page, her hand brushing his and Huey felt the red return to his face.

“Huey?” Louie said, standing a few feet away from the table.

“Louie!” Huey yelled and was immediately hushed by everyone, including Webby.

“What are you doing here?” Huey asked, his hands on the table as he stood from his chair.

Louie glared at his brother. “I had to use the bathroom and you’ve been in here for like three hours. Even Dewey was starting to get bored at the park.”

Huey winced, feeling bad that he forgot to meet them. “Sorry, Louie. I couldn’t check out the book so I started reading it here and lost track of time I guess.”

“Hi, I’m Webby by the way!” Webby introduces herself to Louie, walking up and shaking his hand.

Louie straightened up a little. “Good to meet ya.” He said politely before turning to Huey again. “We gotta go Huey. Uncle Donald is going to kill us.” Louie said and Webby gasped, but Huey ignored it.

“No he won’t. I’ll take care of it.” Huey sighed and Louie nodded.

“Alright, I’ll wait outside for ya,” Louie said before leaning in close to Huey and mumbling, “But try not to take too long with her this time, alright dude?” Louie said with a small evil grin.

Huey’s face went as red at his shirt. “Shut. Up. Go on outside.” He retorted back quietly and Louie laughed.

“As you wish, Huebert!” He teased before striding toward the door.

“Huey, are you alright? Your face is red.” Webby asked, making Huey’s face redder. She gasped. “OH NO! Do you have heat stroke?!?” She exclaimed and Huey shushed her for the billionth time. He was starting to get used to doing that.

“No I-I am fine. Perfectly fine. Good.” He stumbled over his words and Webby didn’t seem to believe him but she shrugged.

“Okay then.” She settled it. “Well, I’ll see you later Huey! Don’t forget we have to finish this book together!” She said with a smile and Huey couldn’t help but grin back.

Her happiness was pretty contagious, what could he say?

“I won’t, I promise. But I might be grounded forever if I don’t leave right now.” Huey said jokingly but Webby gasped seriously.

“Then get home Huey! OH WAIT!” She yelled before quickly finding a pen and a piece of paper. She scribbled something down.

“This is my address. I don’t have a phone so this is the next best thing.” She handed him the piece of paper with a smile. She seemed to smile a lot.

Not that Huey minded, of course.

“Thanks Webby, I’ll be in touch. Bye!” He said, feeling anxious to get home and try and talk Uncle Donald out of grounding him.

“Bye!” He heard her yell, only to be shushed again.

“Sorry!” He heard her say right before he pushed through the doors and out onto the sidewalk where he saw his brothers.

Both looked sweaty from being out in the sun for a few hours. Dewey looked the most bedraggled. He seriously looked like a hobo.

Louie looked like a guy that was very close to becoming a hobo.

Huey still smiled at them. They were his brothers, he couldn’t help it. They got on his absolute last nerve at times but he still loved them. Plus he was in a good mood now.

“There’s the lover boy! Making goo goo eyes at that Webby girl in there!” Dewey said, before turning around, hugging himself, and moving his hands up and down his back obnoxiously.

“Shut up Dewey! And Louie! You told him?” Huey demanded, embarrassed but not surprised.

“Naturally. Of course he beat it out of me. I came out of the library laughing so much that Dewey apparently couldn’t stand not knowing.” Louie explained with a smirk and Huey grumbled.

“Aw it’s alright Huey,” Dewey said with a grin. “If you’re feeling upset you can always talk to Webby about it.” Dewey made more obnoxious kissing noises.

Huey rolled his eyes and sighed, annoyed by their teasing. But at the same time, he didn’t mind it as much. Webby’s adorably goofy grin flashed in his mind.

“Look at that smile, Dewey,” Louie pointed at Huey while laughing so much he was basically wheezing. “He’s thinking about her! Oh, Huebert has it bad now!” Dewey started laughing along with Louie and Huey huffed.

“Alright you two idiots, you keep this up and I’ll just let Uncle Donald punish you how he seems fit.” Huey threatened and they quickly started pulling themselves together.

“Alright, alright, sorry Huey, we’re good. For now.” Louie said as Dewey was still trying to stop his chuckles.

Huey glanced at the address Webby had given him. Something about that address seemed really familiar.

Huey looked back up at his brothers and started walking. “Alright, let’s get home before Uncle Donald comes and finds us.” Huey said and he heard his brothers fall in behind him.

Huey pulled out his phone from his pocket and quickly typed in the address.

Huey held in the biggest gasp he had ever felt as the McDuck Mansion popped up as the address location.

Huey refreshes the page about thirty times and nothing changed. He triple checked that he had spelled it right. It was.

‘If this thing is right,’ Huey thought seriously. ‘Then apparently the McDuck family isn’t the only one with mysterious secrets.’

Huey put his phone and the paper into his pocket and smiled a little bit as his mind started to plan on he’d try to research on his own. Who knows? Maybe it might impress her if he managed to find out just who she is.

Huey glanced back at the library and he swore he saw a glimpse of a pink bow going down the steps.

He looked forward, completely ignoring the teasing of his brothers behind him.

He had at least one good mystery to solve now, and it mainly focused on a duck named Webby.

———————

(Ok so wow I didn’t expect this to end up the way it did but I actually kinda like it? I might continue this maybe XD Who knows? I certainly don’t but yeah, this is for Art! Happy late birthday Art!! Sorry I couldn’t get this to ya yesterday, let’s just say some incidents occurred lol x3 Hope you enjoy! Love ya my dude :P)

[thejustmaiden]

Jaime&Brienne Ending Has Got Me Literally Heartbroken 😭😭

It's just nothing really makes sense anymore. (I apologize, this will be rather long.)

I feel so betrayed. Like what the hell was really the point?! So much time and effort was put into showing Jaime's character development over the years, all that progress he made and the major impact Brienne had on helping him regain his former more knightly self, how they kept saving each other time and time again, I could go on and on! The mutual respect and deep understanding that grew between them, and that, mind you, continued to grow into something more..... and no one can convince me that it wasn't pure love and admiration in the end. (You'll never be able to pry that from my cold dead hands so don't even bother! 😤)

Only they two knew each other like no one else did- the good, the bad & the ugly- and still had each other's backs no matter what. Their journey really was one of both true friendship and romantic love.

Let's not forget that the show version of Jaime and Brienne had extraneous scenes written for them that never happened in the books (i.e. Brienne/Cersei showdown at PW, Tarthgasm scene, Tent of Feels), all of which the show could've just well left out if they never meant for them to be endgame. Why so carefully build up a beautiful relationship with not so very subtle romantic implications over the years if all it was gonna be used for in the end was as a cheap means to give Jaime the final push to go back to his sister?? How fucking dare you use Brienne like that, and then subject Jaime to having to cause her that kinda pain when we all know the real Jaime would never. How about be fucking consistent with Jaime's actions instead of trying to throw us for a surprise of the stupidest proportions?! How can anyone have such a nihilistic way of looking at the story after everything they've already given us with Jaime and Brienne from all the way back in the end of season 2 to the last 3 episodes in the entire series???! Please tell me, how can you be so cruel to not only your characters but to this fandom that has been so loyal?!!

Yet D&D, you kept up the JB charade because you're apparently sadistic fucks and wanted us to suffer more knowing their bad ending would be that much more "successful" and "shocking" after everything was said and done. My ass! Of course before any of us knew what was really in store for Jaime and Brienne, D&D sure made up for lost time with episodes 1-3 and the first half of 4 in season 8, and it was GLORIOUS!! Finally, us JB shippers had all our dreams come true and we rejoiced! But it didn't last for long.... our beloved ship sunk before it ever really had a chance to set sail. There are a lot of messed up things that have come out of this show (as we are all very familiar with), but I never thought I'd see the day they could ever eff these two up.... never ever in a million years would I have believed you if you had told me that was where their story was headed all along. But why, you ask? Well, who really knows, because literally nothing- NOTHING- in the narrative was pointing us in that direction!!

It's hard to fathom that this was what D&D and possibly George had planned from the beginning, but damn, who can say for sure, right? One thing is for sure though: literally no one, and I mean NO ONE, else on the cast and crew saw this coming, and you can tell by their commentary over the years. Everybody was rooting for these two to get together for fuck's sake. And D&D knew it too and played us like a fiddle!! How fucking dare you lead us on to only go and break our hearts because "shock value." 🙄 AND how fucking dare you hurt these characters and completely ignore their arcs and what they mean to each other- TO YOUR FANBASE.

Gods, poor Nikolaj! He hasn't spoken out much since Jaime's death, and my heart is breaking for him, because we all know in our hearts he's the captain of our ship and wished for the exact same thing we did in regard to Jaime. I just pray he's not getting a lot of hate, and that, yes, he eventually does speak out more about Jaime's ending. I need to hear from him, to know his actual personal views on his ending. I only hope he's more open about his true feelings on the matter too and isn't so diplomatic about it all like he was in that EW interview. I respect that you've come to terms with the ending, my beautiful man, but that doesn't mean you need to pretend you loved it either. We all know you didn't, so why try and hide it anymore? I adore you, Nik, but it's important to us Jaime and Jaime x Brienne fans that you're completely honest now. Emilia was about Daenerys' ending, and if you weren't satisfied either, just please come out and say it already. Besides, I think you'll find it rather cathartic to let it all out. You've been holding way too much in anyway and you need some release. 😉

I hate to put that pressure on you, because as an actor you were just doing your job, but dammit, we deserve answers! We were robbed, and you know it! Since the show isn't giving it to us, maybe we can find some solace in what you have to say about it all. I've always trusted your take on Jaime since the very beginning, and I truly believe it when I say that nobody else could've brought my favorite character to life quite the way you did. Despite the injustice your character was served in the end, I'll never forget that.

I'm getting emotional as I'm writing this because the pain is still so fresh. That and because these two have been such a big part of my life the past few years. I started reading the books for them for God's sake! You can laugh or mock me if you want, but I saw a lot of myself in each of these characters and needed to believe their love for each other was real and would/could actually be realized. That they could embrace their love for each other regardless of appearances, past deeds, family/duty, conflicting oaths, and other obstacles. You name it, nothing ever stopped them from being there for the other. Yes, even when they were on opposing sides, which is why their "break-up" made no sense whatsoever. Jaime always picked Brienne over Cersei time and time again (for example, turning back to Harrenhal for Brienne instead of getting to Cersei, going behind Cersei's back and sending Brienne to find Sansa, & more!), but all of a sudden now you're telling me he never really did any of those things for Brienne and/or his bloody honor in the end and this was just one big ruse??! You got us alright, D&D, but only because your trick was stupid and you cheated us. No one saw it coming not because of your clever writing but because it was so beyond mediocre and no one really thought you capable of such a lackluster imagination. So you should feel bad because you clearly didn't think any of this through concerning these two beloved characters.

What the show gave me instead was some shit reason that completely negated everything it had been telling us this whole time and up until the very end: that, in fact, healthy loving relationships based on deep trust and respect between an ugly/unconventional woman and a very attractive man don't actually and can't probably ever exist and you should know better to wish for such ridiculous happily ever afters. I have faith the books will be kinder to them and give them an ending they deserve. It's okay if it's not a happy one, per se, I just ask that it does their characters justice and keeps them true to themselves and up to their last moments. So obviously, not like we got in the show, especially in Jaime's case. They should've just sent him to the slaughterhouse and even that would've been a more merciful death. At least he still would've died the same Jaime we grew to know and love. I suppose as long as Brienne knew who he really was in the end and why he left that's all that matters, but the show could've at least made his intentions clear for clarity sake. Fans deserved some closure from both Jaime's sudden 360° character flip and his death. Can't forget Brienne either, because they could've at least had Tyrion or Bran acknowledge his love for her. For her sake, yes, but for ours, as well.

I've never invested so much of myself into a fictional pairing before, and I was so sure that once they went canon (because there was never a doubt in my mind), that it would be the real deal. Maybe one or both would die, but there would be some kind of love declaration before, and their ending wouldn't leave such a bitter taste in my mouth. I'll accept a bittersweet one, sure, but never just a bitter one. Nah, I trust George ain't gonna do them that dirty.

Expect the worst and hope for the best... Well, the worst has already come, so it can only get better from here, right? It better, ya hear me, George buddy? In George We Trust. 🙏

[ralfstrashcan]

3x18 Reaction / Commentary

Anxious feeling of imminent doom in my gut? Check. Skipping breakfast in favor of running to my laptop like a starving person? Check. Chances of surviving this episode with my sanity intact? Uhhh.... Well here goes nothing.

But one more thing before we get started (Does anyone wanna get out? Yeah, me!!!! Okay sorry.)

Who's this mysterious “Alex” person?? A new player on the board???

Alright alright, I'm stalling, I know. It's weird, last week couldn't pass quick enough but now I really don't wanna click the play button... okay anyway you're probably not here to read my angsting, so. Deep breath and here goes.

In terms of putting my nerves at ease this is working out pretty good. I love Becky, okay, and her sibling ship with Simon and the Sneak Peek made me real happy and I can't wait to see more of those two together (especially considering this'll probably be her last appearance on the show). So, yeah Team Lewis! (Also that comment about them and Clary never missing a Halloween together? I need all the kid fics!!!)

Lol dude I mean you literally died for knowing about it, but sure, make an understatement XD Also, “all the way from Florida”??? Last thing I knew about her she was lying in a hospital bed a week ago (aka 3A)? When did she get released? And relocated? I missed that???

:D :D :D <3<3<3

Queen Izzy :))))))) btw those kids had seriously lacking survival skills if you ask me. That wasn't normal, right? And where were their supervisors??

Effing f-i-n-a-l-l-y.

Also, Magnus with the deflecting again as soon as he's recovered just the tiniest bit is both painfully ic and also just painful </3

Ugh, can you believe Clace entered the Malec scene even though they must have felt it was a bad time and deranged it with their flirting? Unfair. In any case I agree, Clary was always and will always be an idiot XD haha okay sorry, I don't really mean that (only like, 83%) it's just the setup was too good to pass it up ;) I mean even Alec laughed at Jace calling her an idiot so I'm well within my rights to do it, too XD

Thanks, Alec, for sabotaging the one shot at open communication you had. I mean, I want to believe he does it because he realizes Magnus is back to his deflecting self and prodding will get him nowhere, but uhm, could he try for longer than three seconds before giving up? Is he really gonna let Magnus off the hook so easily and do something stupid and reckless instead?? *sigh* BUT ALSO HIS FRAKKING FACE OKAY I CAN'T

“Back from the Plot Fold”

Alec “Tact” Lightwood looooool

“Bitch I worked on this performance for centuries how dare you”

SO. MANY. QUESTIONS.

sdfshfsjdkfjsdf I love the way he talks okay. Exquisite. (Also he has a birthmark on his lip. It's really distracting. Am I implying Asmodeus is hot? Maybe. You can't prove a thing.)

............................................................your self-confident didn't make any progress since season 1, did it, Alec? *sigh* I mean he's basically agreeing with Asmodeus that this is what will happen if their situation doesn't change.

Okay what is structure, let me just yell my impressions of this scene at you. 1) Both of their acting is stellar. Love all the little body language cues, especially Asmodeus's mocking facial expressions. 2) “Return what you stole” and Asmodeus protesting it because clearly he had a “fair deal” with Magnus. 3) Alec breaking eye contact whenever Asmodeus lands a hit (“One he already regrets.” “You make him vulnerable, weak.”) 4) The fact that Alec protests the potential-line with “We love each other.” I was confused at first but when you think about it Alec says that they help each other access their full potential by loving each other and that's a beautiful sentiment. 5) Of course then Asmodeus lands another hit with “Then I'm afraid you will be the death of him” and Alec is back to looking away.

Thank you, Alec, for not being a total idiot.

“...or else the deal is off.” Obviously. Thank you, Asmodeus, for not being a total idiot either.

.........did he just nod? I knew I was right making that 'total' italic, implying he's still somewhat of an idiot XD

sooooo pretttyyyyyyyyyyyyy

And I can't believed Clary missed Luke so much she visited him in prison a total of 0 times.

Look I'm weak and I dig the Jace-Luke-father-son-in-law-dynamic.

Also can we take a moment to appreciate the fact that Alec is able to function as Head of the Institue even though he has to make the hardest decision of his life at the same time?? Just saying. Guy knows how to handle his shadowhunter responsibility. If only he was as capable in handling other things and omg this is not an innuendo you naughty people, I meant emotional intelligence goddammit.

I mean, he's not wrong? The way he cares about her is uniquely twisted, so.

.........................is Alec having 2x12 flashbacks? Because I sure am.

Hmmmm always admiring Clary's screaming skills :)

*sigh* I mean she didn't just SAY intense pain for a short while? Why am I even bothering.

The scientist has spoken lol.

1) They had a whole underground basement full of tons and tons of that serum, right? If those are all made up of nanoparticles then I really really wonder how big the Glorious splitter was that they extracted the serum from. Since, you know, that whole stash was supposed to be enough for the Downworlders all over the world. Wtf 2) I guess “self-destructing” that basement is gonna come back to roost them and they need to recover the original sword to eliminate the Evil Rune, right???? haha

Asmodeus wrote: Hurry up pretty boy, our deal isn't on the table forever ;)

I'm actually impressed Jace remembered to ask Alec about the proposal. You get some more diligence starlets, Jace <3

OMG ALEC ARE YOU SHITTING ME ARE YOU SHITTING ME ARE YOU SHITTING ME *sigh* I mean, those two situations are obviously totally comparable, right? I for my part am, again, having severe 2x12 flashbacks, where Alec asked Jace's council about something that Jace totally wasn't equipped to answer. *SIGH*

And I guess Jace isn't suspicious because of Alec's super suspicious behavior, right?????? Ugh.

The sad part is, Alec will probably see that as confirmation that he should go through with it because he doesn't want to be selfish. So while yay, Alec seeking council, he does it in the worst way possible :( at least I got some parabatai feels out of it :/

On the one hand I'm glad she sees it that way* on the other hand this is clearly supposed to be the influence of the rune, so that's kinda undermining her statement and making it even less credible. Thanks, show.

*Yes he was a victim, no he still carries some responsibility for his actions because free will is a thing and he's had some time on earth where he wasn't exactly coerced by anyone. Manipulated, yes. But he's aware of his agency and he should have used it better. I get that I'm asking for a lot here, maybe too much, and circumstances were always against him, but I'm also not absolving him of all his crimes.

Magnus deflecting because that's what he does. God forbid a scene that could be about him actually ends up being about him instead of a side pairing I couldn't care less about. *sigh*

Also, I'm not exactly sure if Magnus really thinks Alec thought being around Maryse could help him, or if he just said that as another means to deflect because honestly, the way Alec suggested to Magnus he go to Maryse was more the here-go-see-your-babysitter-approach than anything else, especially because he basically cut of the conversation they where having before Clace interrupted. *SIGH*

WELL I COULD

YOU NO FRIKKIN SAY, MARYSE

“My lips are sealed.... especially about my issues ¯\_(ツ)_/¯”

THE DISDAIN AHAHHAHAHA CATCH ME WHEEZING ON THE GROUND

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!SEELIE QUEEN IS QUEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Is this.... actually......... a scene with Alec and Izzy???? HELL YEAH

Okay, words. First off, I LOVE that Alec spills all the beans, and to Izzy, the one emotionally capable Lightwood. I mean, yay Jalec and all, but it's an universally acknowledged truth that Lightwood Men seem to be pretty unable to handle their emotions in a productive way.

Second off, the music playing in the background? Is the one from the Malec Breakup Scene from 2x18. Yay mood reference, I mean. Thanks for that lovely detail, show. (Hahahaha I don't even know if I'm sarcastic or not because it's so witty but on the other hand it's just cruelly twisting the knife like r u for real man give me a damn break.)

Third off, I love basically every line of this dialogue. The fact that Alec (or anyone really) FINALLY acknowledges that Magnus gave up his powers and saved Jace for Alec. Alec's argument: “Magnus sacrificed everything so I could feel whole and now I have the chance to do the same for him.” Also that wording, “a chance”? Not an obligation, not a repayment of a dept. A chance. Because he loves Magnus and this is his chance to fix it. (In his eyes at least, pssssh.)

And Izzy's intent “He wouldn't want this. He loves you so much.” So valid. And less biased (aka skewed by shitty self-esteem) than Alec's assessment of the situation.

Also this

Ouch, just. Ouch. So ic.

Also this

Izzy asking all the right questions. The way Alec looks away means “No” and the determined way he meets her gaze again after means “But that doesn't matter.” Very good scene.

(Honestly the only thing I would have wished for is that Izzy is a little more firm in her assertion that Magnus wouldn't want this and she like, tries to change Alec's mind instead of just accepting his decision.)

hehehe :)

The same time you moved to Florida apparently.

hahaahahha <3<3<3 kick-ass sister material

.........<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 this deserves so much recognition okay. Since we all know drinking away his problems is Magnus's No 1 coping mechanism. Too bad he'll be pushed into his liquor again by Alec unwisely breaking up with him at the end of the episode (because I daren't dream of a change of heart on Alec's side.)

Also is this the part where Maryse blabs out Alec's proposal plans??

Ugh yay, so after Maryse reassuring Magnus that they are all here for him I guess the breakup is just gonna get 5 shades uglier. Yaaay.

Love that necklace damn.

Obligatory Sizzy moment in front of Becky so she can call Simon out on it later: Check. Just glad this role doesn't fall to Raphael. (Also you bet your ass I chose Becky's line as a picture for this because I'm really that petty.)

Also omg, I just peeked into the German dubbing because obviously the Count von Count pun doesn't work because the words for Count and the word for counting aren't the same here and the guy is named Graf Zahl. And just skdjfslkdjfklsdjfkld Simon's line “That does sound really made up” is honest to God transated with “You're right, I just made him up” like oh my God who is in charge of translating this and why are they so incompetent honestly!!!!!!!! W H Y

Lol that's gotta be the first time in his life that he called her Isabelle. Probably because she was slacking off during patrol.

AAAAAND I'M WHEEZING AGAIN AHAHHA HER OFFENDED FACE Honestly the seelie queen and Becky should start a comedy spin-off, I'd be watching the shit out of that XD

HAHAHAHAH HAVE MERCY XD XD XD Then again, can you blame Simon? Izzy is sooooo droolworthy.

1) She's gonna let Alec, Jace and Clary (two and a half shadowhunters ahaha) take on a whole nest of demons alone? Instead of backing them up? Okay???

2) Why they telling them that??? As far as they are concerned Simon and Becky are civilians, not their parents.

?????? NO SHE SHOULD TAKE BECKY WITH HER!!!!!!!! CAN YOU IMAGINE BECKY TOURING THE INSTITUTE? BECKY MARVELING AT ALL THE UNREALISTIC SHADOWHUNTER TECH?? BECKY KIDDING AROUND IN THE LAB??? I WAS ROBBED!!!

:)))) even Jace breaking out the comedy :D :D :D I approve

Those are some nice wings. Not perfect, but very very nice.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME HAHAHAHAHAHAH

Okay, Parabatai Fight Scene!!! 1) Jace again with his axes, nice.

2) Being sassy instead of, idk, picking up his weapons: Check.

3) True dat, but uh, Jace, what was the plan if Alec hadn't shown up? Inviting Drevak Queen out on a date?

4) I mean, why shoot one when you can shoot five, right? Good motto. But I still kind of want an explanation how two of those arrows could land in the Drevak Queen's head and the other three in her chest, like, what are physics anyway amiright?

5) Shot meant to make Jace look heroic when really, since we earlier learnt that killing the Drevak Queen kills all her spawn*, this was just Alec doing Jace's work for him XD

*Uh, yeah what the hell is up with that. Chitauri Genetic Defect or something? *sigh*

*Feelings of terrible foreboding intensify*

sssssssssssssssssssssssudden

Look, I agree. I just don't think Maia could really comprehend / accept that so fast (and off-screen) because ugh reasons, too tired to repeat myself again *waves hand unhelpfully* but whatever, I can accept this. I made my peace with it.

1) Last time I checked those cells were secured with a combination lock thingy.

2) Thanks Lanaia for sabotaging Sizzy, I'll be sure to send you a gift basket (or, if what I think will happen happens, some flowers for your grave lol).

*snorts* Reminds me of Hannibal who was always making cannibal puns at people and no one noticed XD Also, her knocking Jace out was really dumb? I mean, he wouldn't have stopped her from saving Jonathan because, uh, that's saving her own neck, too. And if she'd portaled them both to the cell she could have disposed of him there way easier, locking him up – since apparently she didn't plan to kill him, and that nice straightjacket would have kept him from alerting the other Shadowhunters way longer than that pipe over the head. So, wholly unnecessary. I mean, in a way it's nice to know that Demonic Clary isn't smarter than Regular Clary.

Dude she's literally wielding a spear, how dumb are you.

Aaaaaand there goes my order to the nearest funeral wreath shop XD

Look I have questions (which, okay, I should have asked sooner but what even is continuity right). When that weird gratifying wing dream sequence started I thought it was Clary tapping into the rune connection and it was the real Jonathan communicating with her. When Jace entered the play field it was clear at least some part must be fake because Jace sure as heck wasn't unconscious / in trance at the time and later didn't give any indication that he participated in some creepy contest for Clary's affections. But now Jonathan is surprised by this, too? He, too, was a product of Clary's imagination? I have so many questions, first of all, why the wings? And the really cheap back-white-symbolism? Also, why did Clary feel so drawn to Jonathan if this was all in her own mind? Was it the influence of the Evil Rune? Does the Evil Rune have a user interface that's shaped to look like Jonathan? Does that mean Jonathan has a Clary-shaped interface??? I need answers.

Ugh. Let's make this long and painful, shall we.

OF COURSE IN THE ONE SCENE WHERE SHIT WILL GO DOWN THEY DON'T FAIL AT CASUAL INTIMACY THANK YOU FOR  N O T H I N G

Let's not talk about the fact that the thought, Alec could mean anything but a break together from everything that's been going on, doesn't even cross Magnus's mind because no. Noooooo. I'd rather talk about how absolutey awesome both of their acting is. For Alec I really like the way he moves his eyes, like the gaze darting around alternating with the rigid stare. For Magnus, uh, everything, just like, his whole face is perfection?? Yeah, that works.

The way he interrupts because he just needs to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Dammit, he does this eyelid dip here, it's not a blink, it's just his eyelids twitching down for a second because this is like a slap in the face. And then he turns and takes a step away because his instinct is to run from this because what is this, this can't be

“Is this about last night? Because I'm going to quit drinking.”

Magnus “forever apologizing for being an 'inconvenience'” Bane, final installment.

Dammit, his face. And again with the deflecting, trivializing his feelings, anything to keep this conversation from going where he thinks it's going.

*EYE ROLL* Sorry but you don't get to play that card after being effin obtuse for 7 episodes, Alec. Nope. Nope.

Magnus, his usual walls rudely ripped away. He has no chance but to admit how shitty he's feeling. And if it wasn't for the circumstances I'd say “yay, finally some communication” but well.

“Fine. I'm in pain,” he says, and Alec turns away, breaking eye contact for a moment because the final confirmation is too much for him for a moment.

I love that Magnus doesn't deliver this line meekly. He's worked up, sure, but there's also a confidence when talking about their relationship. Breaking up is an unrealistic concept to him in that moment because it's so absurd. It's not fixing anything so why would it happen? Makes no sense. *insert weeping sounds*

Brutal and efficient. Very ic.

Damn how does even his blink convey so much vulnerability??? (Somewhere Lexa is nodding approvingly.) (Also why didn't I find gif sets of this :c)

“You said there's nothing I can do to make it better.”

There's an audible difference in his voice, because this part is true and he's not lying. The controlled monotone isn't there anymore. This is his real despair in the face of not being able to do anything to help Magnus.

“It's not your job to make it better.”

Again, if this was a constructive conversation it would be a great step in the right direction. But sadly it isn't, and so this is too little too late.

“Well, what am I supposed to do? Just stand by and watch you suffer for the rest of our lives?”

Alec is still speaking the truth, and this is his motivation to go through with it. Because a) he believes what Magnus said about never being happy again without his magic (sidenote, he didn't, in fact, say that, he said it might never pass (meaning being affected by the magic loss) and he's not happy at the moment, which isn't the same as he'll definitely surely never be happy again without his magic, but whatever) and b) he's sure he doesn't mean all that much to Magnus. He's his current love, but that's about it. Nothing special, not worth leaving such devastating traces in Magnus's life and he certainly doesn't mean as much to Magnus as Magnus means to him. And especially from that second part stems his gravely false assessment of the situation which in the course of consideration leads him to the conclusion that breaking Magnus's heart will hurt less in the long run than him not having his magic. There's also the fact that be probably didn't think about how him doing this to Magnus will confirm every last insecurity Magnus ever had about not being lovable, because I can't believe he would have gone through with this if he'd thought of that. Or at least, he would have been visibly more torn about it, maybe even talked out of it by Izzy, etc. But it's ic for Alec not to think like that, because in a way I guess he loves Magnus too much to really understand that Magnus has these doubts. And Magnus mostly playing his vulnerabilities close to his chest isn't working in his favor here either.

“This isn't you. You're not this selfish.”

This is what I mean. If Alec was less convinced that he's doing the right thing this line might have shaken him out of it. Honestly, I half hoped he'd object this, consequentally incriminate himself and Magnus would catch on that something was going on. But ofc that didn't happen.

The spark line, just. Ouch. Again, very clinical and minimalistc. The way Alec stares, his voice back to being monotone, the way he clenches his jaw. And then his work here is done and he's ready to leave.

It only gets worse from there. Magnus, frozen in disbelieve because this can't possibly be true, and then he starts begging and it breaks my heart every single time okay. To see him reduced to this desperation is just cruel.

I still can't help but note the way Alec readily turns around before Magnus has competely turned around himself. I think he was on the brink of giving in.

The way Magnus holds on to him, hands fluttering over his arms, shoulders, cheeks. The way Alec can't even look at him for the barest second, eyes closed, breath going heavy. Magnus's everything. Just kill me now.

And let's not talk about their kisses and Magnus's whispered words because no. There's nothing to say to that except perfection. Intense, top notch emotion portrayal on both parts.

Then Alec pulls away (how???? gotta admire commitment and an iron will when you see it but boy is it misplaced) and Magnus's hands tremble because this can't be happening, this can't possibly be real.

Note that Alec doesn't look him in the eyes once because he knows if he did, it'd all be over. Also note the look of utter betrayal on Magnus's face. It's not just hurt and heartbreak, it's betrayal because this is what this is. Alec promised him something, made him believe that he could trust in him, in them, and now he's going back on his word.

Well, this was fun, let's never do it again.

Look, I don't have the nerve for this anymore, so I'll keep it short and in no particular order: - Asmodeus is ass powerful and manages to distance-summon himself, yay, nice to know that the one time a shadowhunter doesn't act stupid and impulsive it still doesn't pay off. - Asmodeus killing pissed off warlock lady was both obvious and unnecessary. - His smile is creepy. - “My son needs me.” MY ASS - He still needs to support himself on the back of the chair because he's a weak bitch hahaha.

Conclusion: *sounds of despair*

I just watched the 3x19 promo and.... they're really gonna end Malec on a train wreck this season, aren't they?? Oh God. They hoped they'd have a forth season to work through it and that's why they served themselves with issues and second helpings of extra issues, and since s4 isn't a thing we're gonna get an unsatisfying as hell 2x20-style resolution in the finale. God please say I'm wrong but like. Arrgghhhh.

(Also, credit where credit is due: “Before we get started, does anyone wanna get out?” is the line from Captain America in TWS before the elevator fight.)

[alliebruns-blog]

To Live A Life Less Ordinary.....

So here’s something a little bit different. This week there was discussion in the Bad Boy Running group on Facebook about adventures. My pal Lorna posed the following question “On a scale of 1 to 10 how much do the adventure podcasts such as Sean Conway, Anna Mcnuff etc make you feel inadequate?! 10 for me! If you had no responsibilities and could just up and leave for an epic adventure what would you do?” Much discussion ensued over this - head over to the Facebook post to take a look, but something about it really got to me. 

That post.....

For some time now, there has been something not right about how I am living. I haven’t been running as much as I would like - down to a little bit of my mojo being sapped by the Thames Path, the arrival of Pickle the very nervous but totally wonderful rescue dog, and my crippling anxiety about the thing that enables me to run. My job. 

As some of you know I have worked for many years in the music industry, marketing bands and making you buy music you don’t want. Living the glamorous life that you all read about. Parties and festivals and famous people. I am partially responsible for Ed Sheeran. But please don’t hate me (I love him, he’s great). I am so lucky. Or so I was constantly told. 

When we were young - in the years PR (Pre Running)

Two years ago I decided that I didn’t want to do it anymore. Or I thought I didn’t. I was fucked, to be frank. Tired out, abused, taken for granted, under paid, miserable, on the receiving end of some pretty #metoo behaviour.  So I went and started my own business as a freelance marketing consultant. To the music industry. And it’s gone well. I had good clients and the money was coming in. I was making a profit. I was doing things on my terms most of the time and I had time for the running adventures and the money to pay for them. Then I lost my biggest client. My bread and butter. And I haven't been able to replace them as yet. And I don't think I want to. And I have had a lot of time to think and worry. When Lorna posed this question in the group, it came at a time when I had agreed to take part in a reccee of a race across Namibia and then one across Panama in November/December of this year. A reccee that was not only going to cost me about five thousand pounds, but was also going to put me out of work action for 3 weeks. It was OK though - I had my big client and I had money coming in. And then I lost them. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? 

That’s there to be run......the Namib desert

So is that - The Panamanian jungle 

I read through people arguments on Lorna’s post, looking for some answers. Should I cancel the trip? How was I going to afford it? Was I being spectacularly stupid? How was I going to get a client when I had 3 weeks of ‘holiday’? There were a lot of people saying if it wasn't for job/kids/partner etc they would do something epic. Some people even said they wished they could go back in time and get these things done before they had “settled”. I have never settled. I did for a while (the married years pre running) but I never really settled. 

People like to tell you how to live or how you ought to live, especially on the internet. Good education, stable career, pension, husband, wife, children, save, mortgage, sensible, safety, plan. Saving it all up for a rainy day. But what if every day is a rainy day? What if it’s raining from day one and it only stops occasionally to allow a glimpse of sunlight into the otherwise black room of your brain? What if everything that you have been told you want is wrong? What if the things YOU thought you wanted are wrong? What if the thing you love starts to destroy you? Was that part of the plan?

Losing my biggest client was not part of the plan. The plan was long term. I want to make a living from my running. Something that is NOT the done thing. I am told by people that I am inspiring and clever and engaging and funny. I do not necessarily believe this, but the proof is in the pudding and I do know people that have gone out and done their first 10k, marathon, ultra because I have talked them into it - whether that is inspiring or whether I am a good sales person, I don’t know but there it is. I have done some pretty great adventure runs and I love to talk about them, I love to see people finish their first marathon or ultra and I love to be able to help with advice that I believe is contrary to most of the stuff you get from magazines or online. The CEO of The National Running Show recently referred to me as the first of the “Rock and Roll runners” - a description I totally love. Running is my passion. It has changed my life. Even if I don't get out and do it every day like the shiny people on instagram, I am always thinking about it. What sort of races I could do, where I could go and how I can help other people make their races and race companies great. How to makes things accessible and brilliant. how to make people glorious. 

Before I lost my client, I was branching out and doing all the extra curricular I could around running - going out to Mongolia with Rat Race - the ultimate adventure, becoming their only female ambassador, doing the various bits of press etc. Running all the White Star Races, bringing the White Star community into the Bad Boy Running community to make it the most glorious and dangerous group of all time. Working with the National Running Show to secure a partnership with Bad Boy Running, becoming and ambassador for them and being lucky enough to be asked to speak at their event. I was running races most weekend - winning some of them - and triumphing in all my A game races for the year which I am very proud of (SDW100 sub 24 hour, winner  and now course record holder of the TP184 and winning the Ox Epic 2018). Everything I wanted to do with regards to running this year I have achieved, and that to me is amazing. So why have I managed to achieve these things but NOT managed to secure another music client? Maybe it’s because I don't actually want to. Music and me, I think we are finally done. The long drawn out process of splitting up and getting back together is over. 

From when I did a win. 

I woke up in the middle of the night last night, petrified and afraid. I cannot afford Namibia and Panama. I can’t afford the flights or the time off. I have very little money coming in and no savings. I have no 9-5 bread and butter money. I am fucked. So, so fucked. I am going to have to cancel it. And then I thought of Lorna’s post again. I thought about the people that I admire and look up to - the Sean Conway’s and the Anna McNuff’s. I thought about Mongolia and how much that experience can NEVER be taken away from me. I think about my own mantras - see the world through your eyes not your phone. Relentless forward progress. You have more in you. I think about being old and the regrets I may have. I can’t go - I have a dog and I need to make money. I need to be sensible and grown up. I am going to have to email Jim and cancel it. I am going to have to do what society tells me I should do. 

I think about when I am most happy. I think about the Crafty Fox marathon at the weekend and how much I am looking forward to seeing the White Star lot and how much I am looking forward to running. I think about how kind Jim and Rat Race have been to me. I think about how happy I am when I give a talk to a bunch of people that think they could never run a marathon or a 10k or an ultra and how, when some of them email me months later to tell me they have done it, I feel like doing a little cry. I think about my breakdown. I think about the death of my dear friend Scott. I think about my future. I can’t see further than tomorrow. I call my sister, my most wonderful sister, and talk to her. And I make a decision. Based entirely on gut. Based on my sister being spectacularly supportive and kind and talking to me from her heart.

Fuck it. Fuck it all. I know what I want to do. I want to inspire people, I want to live a positive life, and give back the joy running has given me to people. I want to make people believe in themselves. I want to show people they are capable of so much more than they think. I want to write a book. I want to run all over the world. I want to be an extraordinary, ordinary person. And I want to be happy doing it. I don't want to be rich, or famous or the best or the fastest. I want to be the kindest and the most honest and the most accessable. I need money to live, but there has to be a better way. I don't have children. I have Pickle the dog, but she will be well looked after. I have nothing left to lose, and even the tiny bits I do have to lose mean nothing. I want to live a life less ordinary. 

So I am going. I am going to run 300km across the Namib Desert to the Skeleton coast. Then I am going to run 200km across Panama from the Pacific to the Atlantic coast. I will be poor. I will have to move out of London. I want to move out of London, so this is not a problem. I will have to work hard to secure talks and part time work. I will have to scale back my whole life. But I will do it. And I will do it fucking well. 

Normal service will be resumed next week after the inaugural Crafty Fox marathon. Now go and sign up for something extraordinary. 

[ladylillycrawley]

TMNT “Ghost of a Chance” FF Chapter 24 review

FINALLY!! The essay is done, @suthnmeh is pleased with it, and life feels fantastic again! I loved and enjoyed writing every bit of this, so I hope everyone enjoys reading this review of mine! Have fun!

Credit of story: @suthnmeh & @violette-aner​

Direct link to GoaC chpt. 24: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11258484/24/TMNT-A-Ghost-of-a-Chance

——————————————————————————————-

Oh man, this chapter hit me hard. All in good ways I promise, but still. It was deep, thoughtful, insightful, and brought up many internal conflicts that needed to be addressed. Plus, I’ve actually been wondering when a conversation like this was going to both Leo and Karai. I’m going to shamelessly admit that I was expecting a bit more of an explosion once the insecurities were identified and brought into the limelight. Never mind the fact that Karai nearly choked Leo to death, but I’m glad to see that tough subjects are being discussed rather than tucked further away. To be frank, I was expecting much more verbal explosions, a couple of punches or sword fights, the works. Personally, I would never want anyone to experience an outburst like what Leo and Karai had in this chapter, so I am glad that these two ended on a kinda-sorta good note. Therefore, I am curious to see what their relationship is going to look like post future turtles arrival. That aside, I wanted to write am analysis specifically on Karai, and reflect on what has been happening to her as of late. In short: I like her because she’s a complicated. Of course she’s also awesome, smart, and cunning, she’s still a tough cookie to crack. What I like about her though, is that since I started reading this story, she’s perked my interest due to my noticing a couple common themes in everything she does: do what is morally right vs. what she was duped to believe be right, and choosing between allowing someone else write the chapters of her life vs. writing it all on her own.

Way back in chapter 1, we saw that Karai was present on Sensei’s day (yay for things going in the right direction). She talked to the others off and on, she participated in a burping contest with Mikey, and she seemed to have her usual dark humor and lax self that everyone is familiar with. But when Raph and Mikey both made some comments that left the room to become a bit awkward, I could sense that the airtight walls around her heart were starting to tighten, and for good reason too. In her mind, she’s had to jump from one frame of thinking to another and strip down what she thought she was in a matter of months. Not years, months. That cannot be easy, and I am thankful that the Hamato clan recognizes this too. What I like about this portion of Karai’s personality is that her situation could be easily relatable. Granted, I cannot say that I’ve experienced everything that she’s gone through, but many of the manifestations of why she’s done what she has done and the feelings behind them, that part is definitely applicable to everyone in all walks of life. A great example would be back in chapter 2 when Karai conversed with April about her struggle between doing what she has known her whole life verses what is morally correct. To be more specific, she talks about how her life was “paved out for [her]”, she knew what she was, what she wanted it, it was, in a sense, uniform. And now that she’s out of her mutated state and is living with the turtles and Splinter, she’s scared to live out her own life, and make her own choices. I sense that she feels insanely out of place, out of touch, and unqualified to be a member any other clan. A reoccurring theme that plays out far too often in many lives, my own included.

This plays out again in chapter 3 when Karai shows off her new armor to Donnie when she says, “I just wanted an armor that doesn’t have ‘Shredder’s daughter’ written all over it”. Though this might seem like a harmless comment, it speaks VOLUMES about what she thinks behind doors. Growing up in the toxic environment of the Foot clan where the psychotic dictator pretends to be your father, it is understandable as to why she’d make comments as this. Thankfully, Donnie intervened brilliantly by saying, “It doesn’t. But even if it did, it wouldn’t matter”. Kudos to him for catching her comment and being the good bro he is! And whether she realizes this or not, I do hope that she knows that she’s neither alone, nor would it be wise to give up on her new family before giving them a fighting chance to help her completely.

Which leads me to my feeling as though Karai might be losing hope all together by having a hunger for revenge and calling it justice. Let’s start off with the part where she finds out that the creepy ghost in the Chinese pendent is her deceased mom back in chapter 23. I’m not going to speak for everyone regarding this but as someone who is very close to their parents, I, too, would be appalled if either of my folks were trapped in a tightly packaged, Chinese spell encrypted, box. Therefore, I don’t intend to judge her for wanting integrity for her deceased mother. Quite the contrary actually. But given what has been reveled to us readers about what and how Karai has been feeling thus far I the story, it looks like Karai has dubbed the Lotus as the only form of hope she has due to the clan wanting action now rather than later, unlike Splinter who has suggested otherwise. Even though I do admire her wanting justness to be served, especially for Tang Shen, I do hope that she does take Splinter’s suggestion and meditate on his wisdom before doing anything else.

Whew! Now that I have all of that out of the way, it’s off to the other characters mentioned in this chapter! With Leo, I am glad that he got off his high horse for a bit and saw that Hachisu isn’t as glorious as he though she was. Hopefully he will quit idolizing her and focus on both his mannerism and being a good leader (not a perfect leader, but a good leader). Mikey, as usual, was freaking adorable, and I must say that Raph surprised me with his agreeing with Karai (talk about out of character considering he’s not really fond of her). And Donnie? Well, I could write a book as long as “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” about how much I love & adore him, but I shall save that for another day. As always, I LOVED this chapter, you all should be very proud with how incredible has become, so cheers to each and every one of you!

[lady-thor-foster]

Hours in Midnight // Thor x Reader (P3)

Pairing: Thor x POC!Reader, Bonus Jord, Odin and Sif Word Count: 1.6k+ Warning: Angst, Violence (battlefield fighting, brief gore, death), Language, mystery 

Summary: Just how deep do these secrets run?

A/N: wOW. The feedback on this has been amazing! I can only hope you enjoy this next part as much as the others <3 This is a bit shorter than the previous ones because the next chapter is…ahem…pretty lengthy. Also…I think this might have turned into an accidental soulmate au type thing.

Inspiration: “Secrets” ~ The Pierces

“Got a secret, can you keep it? Swear this one you’ll save, Better lock it in your pocket, Taking this one to the grave, If I show you, then I know you won’t tell what I said, ‘Coz two can keep a secret if one of them is dead…”

Previously // Next Chapter

The moment Thor left her lavish home Jord knew she needed to summon Odin immediately. Casting her runes and whispering an incantation in a long forgotten tongue, she all but demanded he get his all-knowing ass down to Earth.

“There are not many who can get away with summoning me to Midgard,” Odin stated, mildly annoyed.

“Then perhaps it’s a good thing I am your former lover rather than an unlucky mortal,” Jord snapped.

“What do you require of me, Jord? My time is limited; my kingdom needs me.”

“Your kingdom always needs you, dear. This time is no more special than any of the others.”

She cocked her head to the side and assessed the self-important man in front of her; it seems some things would never change no matter how many millennia went by. Odin narrowed his eye at her briefly before he exhaled in an attempt to calm himself. He loved her once…didn’t he? Perhaps he should be kinder to the mother of his first born son.

“What can I do for you, Jord?” he asked again, much kinder this time.

“The Princess [Y/n] lives and breathes,” she said simply.

There were very few things in the known universe that could surprise the all-knowing All-Father. His gift (curse) of knowledge allowed him to see the infinite possibilities of all things and to possess a greater understanding than most could even begin to fathom. It was such a heavy burden to carry that the weight of the Asgardian crown seemed but a feather.

Jord watched as Odin’s unnerving one-eyed gaze went glassy as he stared into his infinite sea of knowledge. No matter how many times she watched him do it, it never failed to send a shiver up her spine. Even gods get the heebie jeebies.

“This is impossible,” he whispered in shock, “she shouldn’t live. We watched her fade into stardust with our own eyes. Even Hela herself couldn’t restore her soul. She was nothing. She didn’t exist. Not even after we wiped everyone’s memories. How does she live?”

“I know not dear; that is hardly the most important thing I’ve summoned you for.” Odin’s gazed fixed on Jord’s face in annoyance again. Jord was always one with a flair for the dramatic.

“Of course not. What more could you tell me that I don’t already know?” he sniped.

“Our son knows her once again.”

“What?!” he boomed. His voice echoed so loudly the windows of Jord’s palace rattled.

“Perhaps you are not as ‘all-knowing’ as you have been led to believe, darling.”

“I must consult with the Völva. [Norse Seers and Witches] This should not have escaped my gaze,” he seethed.

“You do just that, dear.” Jord turned from him and waved dismissively. She’d had enough of Odin’s presence for one day.

“You have my eternal gratitude for bringing this to my attention, Jord. Anything you wish for, you may be granted,” he said solemnly. Jord’s head whipped around so fast even Odin missed it. She fixed her steely gaze on her former lover and jabbed her finger angrily in his direction.

“You may shove your ‘eternal gratitude’ where even the light of Dagr refuses to touch. I have no need of it,” she hissed. Odin’s eye widened in fear briefly; she was definitely still irate with him. He bowed his head respectfully at his former lover.

“For whatever worth this might carry, I am deeply apologetic.”

“Take your leave Odin,” she said despondently, “I have no more need for you here.”

“As you wish.”

“Sif? What the hell?!” you exclaimed in surprise. It was the shock of your life to see the famed Asgardian warrior suddenly appear before you.

“You know me?” she asked, wary.

“You’re Lady Sif of the Warriors Three. Shouldn’t they call it ‘Four’ since there are technically four of you?

“Are you sure the middle of battle is the best time for questions, My Lady?”

“Right. Right. You take the left and I’ll take the right?”

“Just try to keep up, Princess.”

You looked at her with a puzzled expression at the title she bestowed without mockery or malice. Did she know you? There was no time to focus on that as the Hydra soldiers recovered from the momentary daze from Sif’s arrival via Bifrost. With fierce battle cries, you and Sif leapt into battle.

From the corners of her eyes and brief glimpses of your speeding form, Sif was thoroughly impressed with how you obliterated your enemies. With little more than throwing knives and blinding speed, you had fought with the fierceness of a Valkyrie. You might even give the Odinsdottir or Sif a run for their money…for an apparent mortal.  Every strike of your hand, foot or knife sent Hydra soldiers crumpling at your feet. You were a flurry of blades and will; your face was set in firm concentration. While there might be glory in battle, there was no joy in ending the life of another, no matter how evilly they might have used it. You weren’t here to judge them, only the gods had that honor.

It was glorious to be fighting alongside a warrior you’d looked up to your entire life. Sif was everything she was famed for and more. Hydra’s agents were no match for her sword, strength, and fury; you spent so much time admiring her fighting form that you nearly missed the dagger being lunged in your direction.

“Son of a bitch!” you hissed as the blade sliced your arm.

“Not so good, are you now?” the Hydra soldier cackled gleefully. The pure unadulterated hate in their eyes made your stomach turn. They seemed as if they teetered on the brink of pure madness. It was a mercy to dispatch them…for them and the world. Without warning, you sank your blade into their neck. The look of surprise and fear never failed to make your heart clench. An assassin with a heart. The soldier collapsed in your arms, bleeding profusely. Suddenly, a fog seemed to lift from their eyes.

“I’m…sorry,” they choked out, “…thank you…”

“I wish it didn’t have to end this way,” you whispered.

“Do you…think…they’ll send me…to Hell…?”

“I think you’ll have to pay for your actions. I pray the gods grant you mercy.”

“You…freed…u-,” with a final gasping breath the former soldier died in your arms. The lump in your throat was impossible to hold back as the tears rolled down your bloodied, dirtied cheeks. There was no glory in senseless death, not even for an assassin. Sif stood in solidarity with you as you cradled the freed soldier’s body, sobbing quietly.

“It’s not fair, Sif,” you whispered. Sif kneeled down and carefully removed the former soldier from your weary arms. The battle was over. She wiped an escaped tear from your cheek and met your gaze.

“War isn’t fair, My Lady, not for anyone. Least of all, the dead. May the gods have mercy on their souls.”

“Hydra will die. Even if I have to tear it apart with my bare hands; no one else will fall victim to their abhorrent ways. Not so long as I have breath in my body.”

“You have my sword at your back, My Lady,” Sif agreed.

“I’m not a Lady!” you snapped. Sif was startled at the vehemence that laced your tone. Guilt washed over you as you realized what you’d done.

“Forgive me, Lady Sif. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m not upset with you.”

“Think nothing of it,” Sif reassured you, “I understand the burden of battle.”

As Sif helped you to your feet, yet another blinding light came from the sky.

“What the—?” you started. A piercing scream echoed through the air as a winged figure barreled to the ground. The shockwave of their impact sent you and Sif tumbling backwards.

“Odin’s Beard!” Sif shouted.

“What the hell was that?”

“I know not. Perhaps we should investigate?”

“Alright, but the second some evil thing pops out of that crater, I’m throwing every knife I have at it. Not today, Satan. Not to-fucking-day.” Sif snorted in agreement. Cautiously, the two of you made your way to the massive crater in the middle of the battlefield. What you saw at the center of it blew you away.

“Is that a woman?”

“That is what it appears to be,” Sif replied.

“Look—she’s breathing. How could anyone survive a fall like that?”

“She is no mere woman.”

“Do you…know her?”

“She is Brunnhilde. She is the leader of the Valkyrior.”

“Are anymore of your Asgardian pals gonna fall from the sky today? Tell me now because I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Sif laughed as the two of you clambered into the crater to help Brunnhilde.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the answer to that either, [Y/N].”

“Figures,” you mumbled under your breath. Sif laughed again. Brunnhilde was naked save for blood red tipped golden wings that shielded her body from view. Her dark brown skin seemed as if it were glowing. What the hell??

“Hello…?” you called out to her unconscious form.

“Is it really the best idea to call to her?” Sif asked.

“Do you really want to go up to the literal leader of some of the most fearsome women of Asgard and Valhalla and wake her up?”

“Fair point.”

“Exactly.”

You didn’t have to wait long; Brunnhilde stirred and sat up, looking around confusedly. Cocking her head to the side, she fixed her wary gaze on the two of you standing cautious in front of her.

“Are you here to kill me?”

End.

Forever Tags 

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Story Tags

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[pixelgrotto]

"Don’t give up, Senua”

Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice is one of those games that’s hard to view objectively if you’re up-to-date with video game trends. It came out about a month ago and is currently an industry darling for combining the thoughtful nature and affordable price point of indie games with the big-budget look of AAA games. It’s effectively brought back the concept of the “mid-tier” title, something that existed before the PS3 and Xbox 360 era, when the cost of developing games suddenly became too expensive for most companies to aim for anything less than the returns yielded by mainstream blockbusters. It’s finally won wholehearted praise for developer Ninja Theory, who produced a reboot of Devil May Cry four years ago which attracted so many whiners that Capcom now seems determined to forget that it ever existed. (A mistake, if you ask me.) And most importantly, Hellblade has garnered recognition for its earnest and extensive portrayal of psychosis. Ninja Theory dared to create a game starring a protagonist who suffers from acute mental illness, and thanks to input from neuroscientists and actual psychosis patients, they pulled it off respectfully, to the point where Mental Health America had approving words.

All of this is great, and made me wanna check the game out ASAP even though I’ve got a ton of other things on my backlog. After my first couple hours, though, I realized that there were actually a lot of things that I didn’t like about Hellblade, which made me feel sorta guilty. I’m all for criticizing critical darlings if I find them overrated, but Hellblade’s very existence was doing so many wonderful things for the industry that it seemed unfair of me to have anything less than gushing praise. So I continued playing until the conclusion of Senua’s 10 hour journey, wondering if my opinions would change. And they partially did. In the end, I’ll say that Hellblade deserves to be played by as many people as possible - though there were several occasions where I found the experience clunky and even painful.  Even though it’s mostly been promoted as a third-person action adventure, Hellblade is really a psychological horror game, and the premise makes me think of a Celtic version of Silent Hill. Senua is a Pict warrior trying to enter Hel to free the soul of her murdered lover, and because she has multiple voices raging in her head and can’t stop hallucinating, there’s some discrepancy over how much of her journey is actually “real.” A discussion on reality is pointless, however, because the ordeal of the quest is real to Senua, and it soon feels real to the player too, especially as the game stealthily weaves the multiple voices of Senua’s mind in and out of your ears thanks to surround sound. Then there are the hallucinations that you’re forced to endure, many of which manifest by changing the environment. One particularly unpleasant hallucination turns Senua’s surroundings into a blood-soaked realm filled with human hands all gripping for her flesh, and it’s heavy stuff. There’s a high probability that playing through Hellblade will be too much for a lot of people, especially those who have personally suffered from psychosis or other forms of mental illness. It was too much for me at some points, and when I call the experience “painful,” I mean that I really had to put the gamepad down every now and then or risk being overwhelmed. All of this made Hellblade an ordeal to play, but it’s perfectly okay to make players endure grimness as long as they’re invested in the characters they’re controlling and want to see things through until the end. Horror games do this all the time, and believe me, I was rooting for Senua to persevere and emerge victorious from the dungeon of her mind. Unfortunately, while grimness is one thing to endure, not-so-fun technical design decisions are another thing entirely. Hellblade typically has you doing either one of three things - 1) watching cutscenes, 2) fighting vikings, or 3) using Senua’s “focus” ability to zone in on hidden runes in the environment, which are then used to open doors and solve puzzles. This “focus” mechanic is actually meant to evoke the capability that psychotic people have to mentally restructure their surroundings, zoning in on certain details and seeing elaborate patterns in the items around them that others might be totally unaware of. While it’s admirable that Ninja Theory managed to take this and make it into a main gameplay pillar, I just didn’t find the puzzles particularly satisfying or enjoyable. All you’re really doing is wandering around looking for optical illusions, several of which are a pain to locate. Once you find ‘em, you go, “Hm, that’s neat,” open a door, and then find some more. There are a few different parts where you’ve got to traverse mini-mazes or use Senua’s focus to rebuild bridges and stairs, but mostly its just looking for runes. It’s probably a good thing that Hellblade only lasts for 10 hours, since this mechanic wouldn’t be able to sustain interest in a longer game.

I did like the combat more than the puzzle solving, and pretty much all of the screenshots above were taken during battle segments. I don’t wanna say that the game “feels like Dark Souls” (ugh), but Senua’s movements and sword swings do have a similar weight to them, and it’s satisfying to see blows connect. The only problem is the camera, which is something that really should not be an issue in a 2017 game. Senua’s just too close to the screen most of the time, and when stuck in a combat stance she lacks a fast move to create distance between herself and enemies. Because combat encounters usually take place in confined spaces with multiple foes, it’s quite possible to get stuck in a corner with your vision blocked as everybody curb-stomps you to death, and the whole thing kinda feels reminiscent of something out of an early third-person PS1 game.

These technical issues, as well as a prominent gameplay mechanic that I didn’t especially like, would keep me from giving Hellblade five out of five stars if I were reviewing it for a magazine. But I think I’d go ahead and give it three and a half stars, and I’d also earnestly proclaim that this is a game that’s still worth experiencing at least once. Why? Well, because of what it represents and encompasses - a positive portrayal of a much misunderstood disorder, an unsexualized female protagonist who strives to be heroic despite her flaws, a game that strips away all of the fat plaguing far too many modern titles and offers an intriguing alternative to teeny indies and bloated big-budget spectacles. And also because there were a few times when Hellblade, despite its problems, really clicked for me. 

(Some light spoilers ahead, FYI.)

The first occasion was when a determined Senua cleared two gates blocking her from a bridge leading to Hel. When she finally steps foot on that bridge, the game kicks in with an awesome Norse-inspired backing track that really pumps up the soul. A flurry of enemies fly at Senua, and combat with them is fast and glorious, particularly since it’s on an open bridge and not the usual confined spaces where the other battles take place. 

The second occasion was when Senua temporarily loses all ability to see her surroundings. Guided only by the voice of her dead lover and the fading light of a single torch, the player has to help her navigate a forested area and a cabin filled with grotesque flesh monsters just lurking in the background. It’s here that the game’s binaural audio really proves its worth. You can hear the monsters, but you can’t really see them, and the dread is intense. Then there’s a part where Senua has to move through a series of corridors that all look the same, and every time she makes an error and ends up travelling in circles, the muses in her mind laugh at her with frightening ferocity, creating surreal feelings of claustrophobia, confusion and frustration - perhaps the closest the game ever gets to actually emulating the experience of living with voices constantly inside your head.  And the third occasion was at the very end, when Senua faces Hela and her minions in a final battle to the haunting ambiance of a really incredible song by Passarella Death Squad. Not only is the song the perfect accompaniment for the desperation of this finale, but this is the moment in the game where Senua’s mastered the voices in her head - at least temporarily - and forced them to work together in harmony. While the voices have always chimed in during combat to serve as a kind of “second sense” for Senua, warning her when enemies are about to strike from behind, they’ve usually done so in a denigrating way. This conclusion, however, sees the voices finally acknowledging Senua’s worth and encouraging her onwards. “You can do this, Senua.” “Behind you, Senua.” “Look out, Senua.” All of these are gentle whispers rather than the normal cackles and cacophony, and the end result feels like poetry in motion as you press buttons in a pulsating attempt to overcome both Hela and Senua’s inner madness. It’s cathartic, it’s a darn good ending and it makes the game feel worthwhile. 

That, in a nutshell, is Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice. Highly imperfect, but also highly worthwhile. I probably won’t ever play this game again, and I’m not sure if I’ll be checking for its sequel...but I am glad that it was made. Both the electronic entertainment industry and the mental health community deserve something like this, and I’m perfectly comfortable with saying that Hellblade deserves all of the attention it’s been getting. Even if it wasn’t 100% my cup of tea. All screenshots taken by yours truly using Hellblade’s photo mode.

[winterbaby89]

As Destiny Has Its Eyes on You Chapter 12/?

Summary:

Princess Emma Swan of Misthaven has been prophesied as the Savior since before her birth. Now with the help of a Lieutenant from her past she is going to take her destiny into her own hands, to defeat the Evil Queen.

A/N:

**I want to start by apologizing for the late update, this past weekend I went out of town with family for the 4th, and did not plan ahead, and despite some major technological issues I was able to get this out, with added smut as my way of apology. I hope you all enjoy.** 

This story is inspired by ’Destiny has its eyes on you’ by the lovely @seriouslyhooked (EmilyBea on FF), my chapters 1-4 are based on her chapters 1&2 (with her blessing).

@ilovemesomekillianjones​ has graciously agreed to be my beta on this entire project, her works can also be found on: AO3, and FF. ** I want thank @ilovemesomekillianjones for her wonderful colab, to help me make the smut what it is in this chapter.*

This story is rated ‘M’.

AO3  FF.net  Prologue/Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

Chapter 12

The cabin door opens and Killian walks in, Emma immediately runs to him wrapping herself in his embrace.

“Everything alright love?”

“It is now. I missed you.”

“I missed you too darling, but it had to be done. How are you feeling?” The concern in his voice makes her heart melt.

“I am feeling well, much better now that you’re back with me. Is it over?”

“Aye, it’s over. You will never have to worry about either of them again, or anyone else for that matter.”

She’s hesitant to ask, but needs to know. “What was their punishment?”

Killian hugs Emma closer to him at her question, then pulls back slightly so he can look at her as he speaks. “Emma darling, I’m not certain you should know.” As the hurt look crosses her face he continues quickly. “Don’t get me wrong my love, it’s not that I don’t want to tell you. I just don’t want to burden you with the knowledge of what happened. I don’t want you to have to shoulder the weight of my decision, or feel any guilt for what happened.”

“But I do feel responsible, Killian. The only reason they were punished is because of me-”

He immediately cuts her off with a finger to her lips, when he realizes where her words are going.

“No, Emma you are not responsible for any of this… they were punished because they decided to attack you. You did not encourage their behavior, they acted of their own volition, you did not force them into action. I don’t want you to ever think you are responsible for this. Walsh is not worthy of your time, he was a terrible human being.”

“Was? Killian, what was the punishment? I need to know. Please?”

He sighs out a heavy breath, “Emma darling, there will be no hope of dissuading you will there?”

She looks back at him with a small smile on her lips as she shakes her head. “Nope. You know me better than that, so please. Just tell me, then we can put this whole thing behind us and move onto something worth our attention.”

“Fine. I was just trying to protect you. Forgive me?”

“Always.”

“I will spare you the details, but I’m sure you will still have a pretty good idea from all of your maritime research. I had Walsh keelhauled for his crime and audacity to continue showing you and I disrespect, with no remorse. The realm is much better with him gone.” As he’s telling her about Walsh’s punishment a jumble of emotions cross her features making them hard to discern. He leans down placing a kiss to her forehead. Sighing deeply, he continues, “This is why I didn’t want to tell you my love, I didn’t want you to look at me like that… with disappointment. He got what he deserved.”

“Killian, no,” she whispers, “I’m not disappointed in you.” She takes his left hand in hers and locks their fingers, admiring how both their rings shine in the bright sunlight in their cabin. “I love you, and I know you did what you felt necessary. I won’t second guess your decision, I know you did it to protect me.” She looks down putting their joined hands on her belly. “To protect us.” She takes a moment to look at their hands holding their baby to be, to focus her thoughts, before looking back at him. “I do feel a bit responsible for the situation, despite whether he deserved it or not. It is a lot to process, but I will move forward, and I hold nothing against you, I know you did what you thought best. I love you Killian, nothing will ever change that, and now we can focus on our family and our future.” She cups his cheek with her right hand and pulls him into a sweet kiss before asking, “What did Murdoch get?”

“Ah, yes, he received one hundred lashes from the Cat-Tails. He will need to be sequestered in the crew’s quarters until he’s healed, but he should survive.”

She nods her head in response. “Seems a fair punishment. Are you still needed up on deck or can you stay?” She’s still holding his left hand against her belly, and reaches for his right hand, when he hisses quietly at the contact she takes a closer look. “Oh my god! Killian, what did you do?”

“Nothing to worry about, my love. Nothing’s broken, I just bruised the hell out of it.”

“What did you do? What did you hit?”

“About that… I may have lost my temper for a moment, and hit Walsh. I could no longer tolerate what he was saying, so I, well, you know.”

She can tell he feels ashamed as he averts his eyes to the floor while telling her what happened. “Well that must have been one hell of a hit to bruise your knuckles like this.” She giggles lightly, trying to lighten the mood, and it seems to work as he looks back up at her with a small smile on his face.

“Perhaps, but I was defending your honor darling, that cretin continued to spew horrible filth about you even in the face of certain death. I couldn’t help meself.”

She couldn’t contain her laughter now, speaking up once she was finally able to get control. “Defending my honor, huh? Says the man who took my virtue, and had me carrying his child before asking me to wed.” If it weren’t for the teasing lilt in her voice he would have blanched at her statement.

“Now my love, if you remember correctly, it was you who seduced me.” Giving her a rather salacious wink before pulling her into a kiss, he continues, “or are you still contending that I seduced you?”

“You don’t think you seduced me? Wearing all that leather, strutting around with all your flirtatious swagger? Or am I just imagining that?”

“Well darling, you did forget to mention that I am a devilishly handsome rapscallion. But it is only natural that you would be drawn to me.” He winks at her again with a smirk, and she playfully elbows him in the side before kissing him again.

“I think it was just destiny. I think we were made for each other, meant only for each other, and no other.” She has tears in her eyes now, and sniffles as she tries to keep them from falling, “Damn these infernal tears.”

He moves his right hand to her belly and hip, lifting his left hand to wipe away her tears. “It will be alright darling, I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. In the name of blatant honesty, I would have asked you to be mine all those years ago, if I had thought it even a possibility. But I daresay you are stuck with me now, my love.” Killian continues to stroke his thumb across her cheek, catching stray tears as they fall.

Emma gives him a sweet smile, and a watery chuckle, closing her eyes before responding and leaning into his touch. “Well I would hope so, we are married with a wee one on the way.”  When she looks back at him, she notices he’s got a sheepish look on his face again. “Out with it Captain, what now?”

“Well my love, I may have accidentally let slip about your condition while I was dealing with the situation earlier... in front of the entire crew. I had not intended to tell anyone until we’d discussed it.”

“I see.”

“You’re angry with me.”

“No, not angry.”

“I swear darling it was not my intent to tell the crew before we decided the time was right. It just kind of came out in my anger against Walsh, with everything he was saying about you. I couldn’t tolerate him besmirching you any further. I am sorry darling. Please forgive me?”

“Killian. I’m not angry with you. A little upset yes, but that has more to do with the symptoms of pregnancy and not getting to make the announcement with you. But I promise I’m not angry. I love you.”

“I love you too darling, if it’s any consolation I believe all the men want to celebrate tonight, if you feel up to it. They were excited, once the shock wore off.”

“Oh? Shocked were they?” She smiles at the thought of a pirate ship made speechless, sorry she missed the sight.

“Oh yes, probably could have knocked over the lot of them with a gentle breeze.” He chuckled remembering glancing up to see the entire crew staring at him, and realizing what he’d said.

“Well Captain, let’s get this hand taken care of. Then, we will discuss how you may make amends for announcing our news without me, which subsequently led to me missing the reaction of a gobsmacked crew of men, pirates no less.”

“Well darling, you are a good negotiator, I think that sounds like a fair and fantastic idea.”

“Now on the bed with you, while I get the salve.” She attempts to give him a withering look, but can’t keep the corners of her mouth from twitching up into a smile.

“Aye-Aye, Captain,” he responds with a cheeky grin.

“Now be a good boy and sit still while I bandage your hand. Then we will get to your punishment.”

“Yes Mistress, as you command.”

Emma applies the salve to his knuckles, and wraps a clean strip of cloth around his hand to make sure the salve doesn’t get wiped off before it has time to do its job. Once the task is complete she puts the jar away, then walks back to Killian who is still sitting on the bed with an amused look on his face.

“Something funny, Killian?”

“Not at all love. Just admiring the most glorious woman I’ve ever met. Whom I was somehow lucky enough to marry.”

“Well get ready to admire some more Captain.” As she’s talking she starts undoing the buttons on his vest, once they’re all undone she slides her hands up Killian’s chest and pushes the vest down his arms, along with his jacket. As soon as his arms are freed Emma starts pulling his shirt from his pants.

“I can do this for you my love, I may have bruised knuckles, but I am still capable of undressing us both.”

“Nope. You lost that privilege tonight. So sit back and be patient.” Emma pauses in her efforts to divest him of his shirt, leaning forward to kiss him. They both bask in the simple affection for a moment before she continues stripping her man.

“Emma, my darling are you ever going to let me touch you?” There’s a note of whining in his tone that matches the pout on his face.

“Not yet. You will be allowed to touch, when I tell you that you may, and not a moment sooner.”

“But darling, I know that you enjoy it when I touch you, when I kiss you-”

Emma quickly backs out of his reach as he moves to grab her. Once out of Killian’s reach, she tauntingly begins removing her clothing, piece by piece, enticing her captivated pirate.

“You’re right, I do enjoy when you touch and kiss me, but for now, you may only look your fill, lover.” Emma continues her slow strip tease, taking her time, until she is completely bare, then saunters back between Killian’s splayed thighs, with an extra sway to her hips. “You have been patient enough my pirate, you may touch me now.” Emma barely has the time to comprehend Killian’s muttered finally before his lips are on hers, hands roaming over every inch of her skin, filling her with that excited buzz that only ever comes in moments when they’re together like this.

Killian continues his exploration of her supple body as he situates them comfortably on the bed. With their lips still entwined, he positions himself above Emma as her hands slide up to tangle into his hair. Killian begins to work kisses along her jaw, moving just below her ear, before traveling down her neck, and then on to her collar bone. He pays his penance to Emma, worshipping her body with his body and love. Moving to her breasts, he pulls a nipple into his mouth teasing it with his tongue and teeth as he pinches and twists its twin with his hand; he alternates between the two after a moment, loving her heightened sensitivity and responsiveness to his attentions. After a few more moments Killian resumes his trail of kisses down Emma’s body, pausing a little longer at her belly than he used to, he wants Emma to know he finds every part of her sexy, especially now that her belly grows.

Finally Killian reaches her soaked quim. He blows gently against her before kissing her wet folds just as he had the rest of her body, eliciting a moan from both of them. Killian sets a leisurely pace, wanting to take his time in loving her. He worships her body with his hands as his mouth lavishes her core. Alternating between long licks, penetrating her with his tongue, and gently sucking on her clit, he’s steadily driving her to the edge of pleasure.

Emma, now more confident in herself and knowing what she wants uses her hand tangled in Killian’s hair to push him closer as she grinds herself against his mouth. “Right there, just like that,” she pants.

Knowing what she needs, Killian uses his mouth to focus his ardor on her clit while guiding his fingers in and out of her to work her to completion. He curls his fingers to hit the spot that will make her see stars.

Emma moans as he pushes her closer and closer to that all consuming euphoria. She feels the powerful release she constantly craves from him building inside, one hand involuntarily fisting the sheets, and the other still buried in his hair tightens almost painfully.

He can feel Emma getting closer, can tell by her little noises of pleasure that she is almost there. Killian watches his princess, continuing to work her, and he gets impossibly harder when she gasps out his name as her orgasm overtakes her. He sends her off the ledge with his skilled mouth and fingers, relishing her cries of pleasure, and his name falling from her lips again.

“My love, I’ll never get enough of your nectar,” he murmurs into her core, not wanting to pull away.

“I need you inside me, now,” Emma demands.

Killian smiles as he crawls back up over her body to capture her lips in a kiss, dropping a kiss on her belly as he works his way up. Leaning back onto his haunches, he lines himself up in the cradle of her legs, when she reaches her hand out to stop him while trying to catch her breath enough to speak.

“Not like that, not right now. I need you deep, from behind.”

Killian just quirks a brow at her as she makes her request. He smirks as he replies, “If the lady insists.” He helps her get turned over and kneels on the bed behind her.

As he starts to slide into her tight sheath he makes sure to push in slowly so his needy Princess can relish every thick inch of him buried inside her. Setting a steady rhythm he pumps in and out of her, and after a few minutes he notices that she has started pushing back on him as he plunges deep within her, causing him to hit even harder. Eventually he isn’t even moving any more, letting Emma set her own pace and force, as she impales herself upon his throbbing cock. He’s doing his damndest not to spill himself too early from the pleasure she is providing him, he leans forward to reach around and stroke her swollen nub.

“Come for me Emma, I need you to come on my cock.” At his words he feels Emma’s walls shudder and constrict around him, as if she had just been waiting for him to ask her to let go. After they have both ridden out their orgasms and aftershocks, Killian helps Emma lay down on the bed, only speaking up after she has curled into him and is already half asleep.

“Gods above. I can’t even explain how much I needed that Killian, thank you.”

“My pleasure, my love. Your wish is my command, you’ve but to ask.”

“I love you.”

“As I love you.” Killian hears Emma’s gentle snores before he’s even finished speaking. He lays there holding his wife for a little while longer before gently sliding out of their bed, so as not to disturb her slumber.

◊◊◊

After his penance to Emma, Killian heads for the deck to inform the men that the party is a go. He lets Emma sleep after the physical exertion of their more pleasurable activities, that way she can enjoy tonight’s festivities. Pip and Mitchell immediately head off to the galley to prepare a feast worthy of their Pirate Queen and the soon to be Pirate Princess or Princeling. Smee gets a handful of the men to scrub and polish the deck, and decorate as much as can be done on a pirate ship. Killian is at the helm smiling at how thoroughly Emma has this rowdy bunch wrapped around her little finger, his wife will make one hell of a Queen some day, with her ability to endear herself to anyone, even the most hardened of brigands.

A few hours later, the ship has been made over in preparation for the celebration honoring the Captain and his lovely bride. Killian makes his way down to their cabin to wake his slumbering wife, because no party can rightly start without the guests of honor.

Killian sits down at the edge of their bed and watches his beautiful Emma for a moment before placing his hand on her cheek. He rubs his thumb over her cheek then says, “Love, it is time to wake up.”

Emma rubs her eyes, while trying to absorb her husband’s words. She stretches and tries to pull Killian to lay down with her.

“You don’t want to be late to your own party now, do you?”

Emma pouts at Killian’s insistence, but she works her way off the bed, and starts to dress. “Killian, I love you, but a Queen is never late, everyone else is simply early, and I’m fairly certain that applies to Princess’ as well.”

“Right you are my love, how foolish of me. And, I love you too, but what say you to getting things started? Pip even made a spectacular feast for you.”

“Aww, Pip is so sweet. Let’s not disappoint the boy then.” Once Emma is dressed and presentable in one of her dresses, she takes Killian’s elbow, and the two head to the deck to enjoy whatever festivities have been planned. As soon as the crew sees them emerge on deck a raucous chorus of cheering, clapping, and whistling erupts, causing Emma to blush all the way to the roots of her hair, as Killian breaks out into a wide grin.

A path opens to the head of the table as the congratulations die down, and they all sit down for dinner. Since they were just in port Pip and Mitchell had fresh ingredients to work with, so they created salads from some of the veggies on hand, rolls, a savory stew, roasted potatoes with butter, and a chocolate dessert. “Gods above Pip, you’ve been holding out on us, and making me think you needed my help with the usual fare,” Emma remarks as they all dig in to the delicious food before them.

“Well mistress, this is all thanks to what you’ve taught me.”

“It is absolutely divine, so thank you.” Emma notices Smee standing from his place on the other side of Killian as she speaks.

“Captain if I may, I’d like to say a few words?”

Curious where this is headed Killian nods his head in acquiescence.

“To start, I want to wish you and the mistress the happiest of congratulations. I can’t express the pure joy I, and all of the men, share at seeing you happy again sir, and that is all thanks to your beautiful bride.” Smee nods his head to Emma in a show of deference and gratitude. “I know everyone wants to get back to their meal, so I will finish this quickly. I want to say a most heartfelt thank you mistress, for seeking out the Captain, and turning this ship on it’s head, and many congratulations, and wishes for the best.” As Smee sits back down there is a chorus of here-here’s around the entire table, and Killian leans over to kiss Emma on the temple. The rest of their meal passes with jovial chatter all across the table, the crew feeling like there isn’t a care in the world outside of their happy celebration.

As soon as the deck has been cleared of all signs of the meal, Wilkinson and Harrison both pull out violins, to serenade and encourage dancing. Upon seeing this, and hearing the first strains of a beautiful melody Killian turns to face Emma extending his hand as he asks, “Mistress Jones, would you do me the honor?”

“It would be my utter pleasure, Captain.” Emma is unable to contain her smile or excitement at the prospect of getting to dance with her husband. Taking his proffered hand the happy couple sway across the deck, the rest of the world falling away, to where it feels like it is just the two of them. They dance the night away, until Killian notices the first sign of fatigue in Emma. Quickly reiterating their thank yous to the crew, they call it a night, and Killian sweeps her off to their cabin to get her rest.

◊◊◊

Once in their cabin Killian kisses Emma with every ounce of the passion surging through him. After a night dancing under the stars without another care in the world, and Emma in his arms, wearing that dress he is  about mad with desire to have her again.

“My love, do you have any idea how tempting you were all night? Wearing the same dress that we said our vows in. Was your intent to drive me mad with want for you?”

“That was not the intended goal, but a very welcome side effect my dear husband.” Cocking her head slightly to the side, with a mischievous glint in her eyes Emma continues, “The real question is, what are you going to do about it, Pirate?” Hearing the growl from low in Killian’s throat, Emma smiles in victory, knowing exactly what he is going to do about it.

Without so much as a word of warning, Killian lifts Emma from the ground, and brings her to the edge of their bed, where he lays her down with her legs hanging over the edge. When he drops to his knees in front of her and begins pushing her skirt up her legs, Emma leans up on her elbows to look at him before asking, “Killian, aren’t you going to undress me first?”

He looks up at her, still kneeling between her splayed thighs. “No, I am not. I intend to make you fall apart while you wear the dress, so any time you wear it from now on, you will be unable to think of anything else. Now, lay back my love, and let me love you.”

As soon as Emma looks comfortable laying back on the bed he sets his mouth to her exposed, and already drenched core, he is voracious, as though he is a man dying of thirst, and she is the nectar of life. He kisses these lips as passionately as he does her mouth, tongue roaming and exploring every inch of her from slit to clit. Based on the sounds Emma is making, he can tell she isn’t too far from her first orgasm, so he doesn’t let up until he hears her calling out his name in ecstasy. Coaxing her through her high he doesn’t let up. As her breathing starts leveling out, he plunges two fingers into her still quivering channel. Steadily he works her back to the edge of release, fingers pumping into her hole as he sucks her clit into his mouth laving it with his tongue.

“Killian… Killian, oh… just… just like that, gods don’t stop. Please. So close…” Emma trails off as her second release washes over her, and all she can do is fall and enjoy the ride he is taking her on. After bringing her back down from her second orgasm, Killian finally stands while working at the laces on his pants with one hand, and wiping her juices from his face with his other hand.

“Can you take any more, Emma? I need you.”

Emma is still in her blissed out state, unable to do more than nod her head, she reaches for him.

Taking himself in hand Killian lines up with her entrance, and slides the head of his cock against her sopping folds, before slowly sinking into her, bottoming out with a pleasured groan.

Emma moans her appreciation of having him inside her again, whispering how she loves the stretch and burn as he fills her completely. She takes a moment to just bask in the heaven of being joined in this most intimate of ways, before wrapping her legs around his hips.

As he begins to glide in and out of her slick and swollen channel, Killian desperately hopes he never gets used to the pleasure they create, hoping it will always feel like the first time. “You feel so perfect, Emma, tell me you feel it to?”

“Yes, Killian, I love the way you feel inside me, the way you fill me.” Emma can feel herself nearing the edge once more as Killian quickens his thrusts, keeping a steady rhythm, and hitting her just there each time.

Killian feels as her walls begin to pulse around his length, and squeeze his tip each time he thrusts into her delicious quim, he reaches down and begins to stroke her clit, enticing her to let go. “Come for me my love, I want to feel you come around me.”

His words are her undoing as she cries out his name in pleasure, the power of her orgasm dragging him with her.

Their breathing is ragged as they lay side by side trying to recover. Killian leans up on an elbow and sees his sated, but sleepy princess beginning to nod off, still fully dressed. “Let us get you undressed and into bed darling, it has been a long and exciting day. I think we are both due some rest.”

With sheer exhaustion trying to overcome her Emma just sits on their bed allowing Killian to strip her out of her dress. She crawls under the covers as soon as she is bare, and by time Killian is able to divest himself of his clothes, Emma has already succumbed to sleep. He lays down behind her, gently pulling her back against his chest, not wanting to rouse her, but wanting to have her as close as possible. He quickly follows her into slumber.

◊◊◊

Chapter Thirteen

Tagging some lovelies to enjoy: @kmomof4, @seriouslyhooked, @laschatzi, @hollyethecurious, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @flslp87, @jennjenn615, @ultraluckycatnd, @xhookswenchx