#because love IS fast it IS unexpected it IS unreasonable. AND I WOULD BELIEVE

[itspileofgoodthings]

the way this album made me realize love bombing would probably work on me 😭😭😭 I would like to thank my parents, education, Jane Austen, and my natural shyness and anxiety for protecting me from ever being in a position to test out that theory

[absolutepokemontrash]

Hi! So, I absolutely love your series where the MC is the kid of Lucifer, and I was wondering if I could request that with Diavolo and Barbatos? •v•

:0 you definitely can! Right now I’m just doing Diavolo, but Barb’s will be up sometime soon!

MC is Half Demon and Oh Shit They’re Diavolo’s Kid-

Diavolo wasn’t exactly what one would expect of the prince of Hell, I mean, he was suppressing the urge to bounce in his seat from pure excitement. I mean, his exchange program was starting! Humans, demons, and angels, all together, his dream was coming true.

All that was left was for the student to arrive, the portal opened, and the human fell flat on their back. Oof, maybe Diavolo should have set up some kind of landing zone filled with pillows. No matter! The human was-

…

What peculiar eyes this human had…

Oh… oh dear…

Dad-volo

The MC was his child, no question about it. This was… very unexpected. Well, the entire assembly hall was completely quiet, and the kid looked like they were getting impatient.

“HEY! Mind telling me what the hell is going on?!”

After that, Diavolo launches into his explanation, also the explanation that he’s definitely this kid’s dad. Kid was not impressed, they tried to square up with Diavolo and Lucifer had never been more confused as to what to do.

Well, the moment MC sprouted wings and launched themselves at Diavolo, Dia caught them with one hand and continued speaking like nothing happened.

MC, please calm down… Diavolo didn’t know they existed, let him make it up to them! They’re going to stay at the Demon Lord’s Castle! Dia’s going to be a good dad!

“This feels like the plot to the world’s most messed up fairytale.” MC jammed their hands into their pockets and grumbled. “I get sucked into hell and find out I’m royalty there. Great.”

Diavolo managed to smile and awkwardly reach out to give them a pat on the head, then retracted his hand after the kid shot him a glare. “Well, it’s not a very traditional fairytale, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time here.”

“Mm, sure.” MC mumbled.

Okay, so his child wasn’t that enthusiastic about the exchange program, but Diavolo was sure they’d come around.

Dia tried everything he could possibly think of to get his kid to both like him and enjoy their time as an exchange student. A lot of things had… mixed results.

Also, legally recognizing MC as his child and legitimizing them caused a big stink amongst the nobles who were opposed to the exchange program to begin with. So MC then had to deal with a few assassins. Wonderful. Fantastic. Show stopping. Dia, be a good dad and comfort your angsty murder target- I MEAN preteen.

They do manage to build a good relationship fairly quickly despite their less than stellar first impressions, and Diavolo made them a promise that he knew he wouldn’t ever break: he would let them live as normal a childhood as possible.

This means that MC gets to do all the normal kid stuff that Diavolo wasn’t allowed to do. It honestly works out great for everyone. MC gets to live their life, Diavolo gets the satisfaction of knowing that his kid’s having fun, and Barbatos doesn’t need to worry about MC causing chaos in the castle.

Man… does this kid’s magic potential scare the shit out of everyone though…

Tired Uncle Lucifer

No. This has to be a violation of his worker rights. It cannot be legal for him to be this stressed.

He knew this exchange program was a bad idea. LUCIFER FUCKING KNEW IT. This kid was judging him. Why did he suddenly feel self conscious about every single one of his features? This child was picking him apart and they hadn’t even said anything!

He confiscated Asmo’s phone immediately, this was a matter of national security! Satan’s too! Beel as- oh shit Lucifer may have to give Beel the heimlich maneuver, then take his phone.

When all the brothers eventually got back to the HOL, they were greeted with Mammon getting shaken down by Levi.

“Lucifer! Ya won’t believe this! Levi- what’s wrong with you?” “The exchange student is Diavolo’s child.” “What..?” “*pops the cork off a bottle of Demonus* the exchange student’s Diavolo’s child.”

The worst part about this kid was that they took to the privileges of being royalty like a fish to water. MC went out and did whatever the fuck they wanted, and Lucifer needed to make sure a state of national emergency wasn’t called just because MC picked a fight at RAD.

It didn’t help that MC was just so unimpressed with Lucifer. Anytime Lucifer would tell them not to do something they would just raise their eyebrows and challenge his authority without saying a word.

What the fuck.jpg

The things he does for his prince boyfriend…

Cool Uncle Mammon

Huh, so this little pipsqueak is Lord Diavolo‘s kid? Hm, do ya think they’d let him into the royal treasury? No? Okay… lame.

Mammon then decides this kid would be just perfect for scamming people! Who is going to say no to the Crown Prince’s kid? A suicidal person, that’s who!

And the kid is… up for it? Wow, Mammon didn’t even have to grovel! Awesome!

It’s such a shame that Lucifer came in and promptly removed MC from Mammon’s presence. Tsk, killjoy…

Mammon and MC do get along swimmingly after MC stops angsting. Whenever they hang out it’s pure chaos.

And they would have gotten away with it too- wait, they do get away with it. Because who’s going to question the Crown Prince’s kid? >:)

Reclusive Uncle Leviathan

Levi was in the middle of throttling Mammon for his money back when Lucifer burst through the door looking like he had spent over 1000 Grimm on a gacha game only to not get the card he wanted.

And where was that human he said would be staying with them? Huh? The human’s HUH????!!!!

… wack. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped out on that Student Council Meeting…

Either way, ew, new person he needed to talk to. NO THANKS. Well, no thanks until MC started to visit the HOL to hang out with Mammon. Of course those two normies decided to bug him. OF COURSE.

Levi finally snapped when MC loudly proclaimed that they could totally beat Levi in Mario Kart. Haha, NO. Levi challenged the little runt to a 1 v 1 race on Rainbow Road.

Kid lost. Obviously. Rainbow Road is rigged.

Honestly, kid’s alright. Still a total normie, but not completely terrible.

Cat Uncle Satan

Huh, a half human child of the soon to be demon king, how very interesting.

Oh, and just look at Lucifer’s face. :D priceless. Satan wished he was fast enough to get his DDD out to snap a picture, but he wasn’t able to…

But back to MC, oh how very intriguing. How much power do they have in comparison to Diavolo? Will using that power rip their fragile little body apart? Would they learn to control it? Satan was just dying to find out.

His feelings on the child themselves were mixed at best. They were clearly unhappy with the situation and Satan could sympathize, being thrust into a completely new world and then being told you can’t leave and are also royalty? That has to be hard. But this kid was still being an unreasonable little shit.

Satan continued to try and study MC from afar until the kid themselves walked right up to him and half demanded half pleaded for his help in studying for a test.

Not being one to avoid an opportunity to flex how smart he is, Satan agreed to help out. (Nerrrrd)

And honestly, it went well. When the kid wasn’t being a little shit, they were actually quite pleasant to be around.

Overly Affectionate Uncle Asmo

…wut

Listen, when Asmo asked Lucifer to pick a cute human, he didn’t mean cute as in CHILD.

This kid was DIAVOLO’S?! What lucky human had gotten to have the experience of [Jesus Fucking Christ, Asmo I’m not writing what he said for the sake of the nation]

Anyhoo~ little MC just made his heart go “SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE SO CUTE!” They were so cute Asmo could just eat them up!

But they were so mean! That scowl they always had on was going to give them wrinkles and ruin their perfectly cute face!

Sigh, oh well. He can’t manually rearrange people’s expressions. What he can do is take this child shopping. Poor Diavolo was constantly in his RAD uniform, this poor innocent baby shouldn’t have to suffer the same fate.

The kid continued to scowl at everything, but at the same time, their little quips were very entertaining. This little kid spitting verbal venom at anyone who displeased them reminded Asmo of someone… he just couldn’t place who, but they definitely had amazing hair and a cute face :3

Hungry Uncle Beel

Where’s the takeout- I mean human? What’s happening? …are all humans this small? Dang, that’s barely enough for a snack.

So the human’s not going to live with us because they’re not fully human and Diavolo’s kid? Huh. Wild. Anyway, what’s for dinner?

Beel’s not too invested in this drama, he misses Belphie too much to be that interested…

The kid’s weirdly interested in how cool and strong Beel is though. MC tails him to the gym pretty often.

Diavolo and Beel already being gym buddies send tweet-

Since this benevolent little shit likes Beel so much, they decided to take it upon themselves to help with the family drama.

Beel finds that very sweet 🥺

Murder sleepy Uncle Belphie

Oh man… if you thought Belphie was being unfair to L!MC due to their parentage… hoo boy…

When this kid waltzed up the attic steps like they ran the place, Belphie needed to hold himself back from trying to break down the door and throttle this kid.

Pff, of course Diavolo would have a half human kid. Of course.

…kid beat the shit out of him when he tried to kill them. We stan this MC.

After all is said and done, Belphie still isn’t overly fond of MC. They’re brash and rude and only funny 40% of the time. They don’t even like napping 😒

But Beel likes the little runt, so Belphie and MC put up with each other.

Bonus! Your Angelic Uncle Simeon’s Chihuahua

:0 friend!

MC: *speaks*

>:0 not friend! Begone! *throws crucifix*

[chocoluckchipz]

A Bride for the Prince - 6

A03  ~  < Previous  ~  Next >

The last time Adrien had so much fun at a festival—or even in general, for that matter—was back in his childhood, when he’d passed his days away playing with Marinette during his summer vacations in DuPont. True, Nino and he had shared some amazing times since then, but that could hardly compare because spending time with Marinette was always special, fantastic, and unreasonably enticing. Adrien doubted he could explain it in words; one had to feel it to understand. That she was still as amazing as she was back then was delightful, and Adrien would lie if he'd say that letting this evening end wasn't disappointing.

Getting caught going down Marinette's balcony was another blunder he didn't need or want today.

“You know—” Nino quirked an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest, “—I’m very curious as to how you’re going to explain this.”

Adrien nervously chuckled. “What exactly?”

“You coming out of Marinette’s room through her balcony in the middle of the night.”

Adrien cleared his throat, fixing his clothes back into place. “There is a good reason for that, but before I elaborate, tell me what are you doing here under her balcony?”

“Looking for you actually,” Nino replied. “I’ve been trying to find you since your room was empty when I got back. And what do you know? Here you are escaping a lady's room through her balcony in the middle of the night. Very interesting and, may I point out, extremely scandalous.”

“You know what’s also interesting?” Adrien asked, starting to walk towards his quarters in the opposite part of the castle. “That you’d be looking for me under Marinette’s balcony. Any special reason for that?”

“Only that I glimpsed you two sneaking into the hallways leading to the ladies’ bedchambers a little earlier,” Nino replied. “I followed you, but—”

Adrien halted his walk and turned around. “So that was you? I knew there weren’t supposed to be any guards at that time. You scared us.”

“You disappeared.”

“We hid in her room. And then I went out the balcony to protect Marinette’s honour in case the guard that scared us would come back and see me coming out of her room through the door.”

Nino groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And the fact that a whole lot more people could've seen you climbing down the balcony never occurred to you? Look around you, Adrien; guards are roaming the grounds and who knows how many people are looking through their windows right now. You don't exactly blend in with the wall with all of the lights around, you know. That's how I spotted you, and that's why I'm here - to kick your royal dumb ass.”

Adrien froze, swearing under his breath.

“What were you thinking, Adrien?” Nino continued to scold. “You’d better be praying no one else saw you Romeo-ing around because, you know, you wanted to help her out, not label her as a whore?”

“I—” Adrien ran his fingers through his hair as he struggled for words. “I don’t know, Nino,” he finally blurted out. “No! I mean I know—Ugh! Okay, I didn't mean I want to get her in trouble. I meant I don't know what I was thinking. I’m not even sure I was thinking. I was—I was just having fun. We’ve always had fun together, so I just—I don't know? Okay? I—I don't—” He groaned and resumed his walk, mumbling under his breath. “Let’s just hope no one else saw me, but if they did, I trust you to think of something to keep them quiet.”

“Where are you going?” Nino asked, following. “I wasn't done with you yet.”

Adrien grumbled, stopping and turning around. “Make it quick. I’m tired.”

“Quit flirting with her.”

“You kidding me, right?” Adrien frowned. “I don't flirt with Marinette.”

Nino quirked an eyebrow. “I've seen you two interact, Adrien. You flirt with her, and may I add, shamelessly. Even Alya was astonished, considering we've never seen you flirt with anyone before.”

“I don't flirt with Marinette, Nino,” Adrien insisted, turning around and resuming his walk. “We’re close friends, and that’s just the way we’ve always been.”

“Then may I suggest you revisit your definition of friendship, Your Highness,” Nino snipped. “This way of interaction between the two of you may have been fine when you were children, but it isn't now. Marinette isn't a little girl anymore, and neither are you a boy with no cares in the world. Have you ever considered that she might fall for your flirts now? Not only will you attract unnecessary attention for her from your father—which, may I remind you, is quite undesirable in this particular situation—but you may actually end up breaking her heart. I'm sure that's not what you want, is it? Or shall I remind you that she's the only one here you can't choose for a bride?”

Adrien stopped walking. “I know that.”

“Then try not to forget,” Nino grumbled. “If you really want to protect her, stay as far away as you can.”

Adrien froze, staring after Nino walking away. Something inside him tightened and rebelled. Nino was wrong. He didn't know Marinette. He didn't know them and their friendship. Adrien wasn't flirting with her, and she wouldn't be falling for him. They were just friends and this… this was just the way they’d always been. That’s why he liked her so much. She was so easy to get along with. No need to pretend or act. He could be himself with her and be accepted unconditionally. In return, she was her adorable self with him, and he loved it. Adrien didn't have a lot of sincere people in his life who couldn't care less about his title, even if unknowingly. He couldn’t just give up on one of them.

However, maybe Nino was right about not attracting his father’s attention to Marinette. He wouldn’t want to get her in trouble. Adrien reached for the lucky charm wrapped around his wrist. Perhaps, Nino was right in this particular aspect, but… this was quite possibly Adrien’s last chance to experience the wonder that was Marinette and her friendship. He doubted that whoever he’d end up marrying would be happy with him having a close female friend… not that it would matter anyway because Marinette would return to DuPont long before his marriage and he’d probably never see her again.

Adrien tightened his grip on his lucky charm. Marinette was one of the best things that had ever happened to him. She was one of his best friends and a reminder of his happier times: a childhood free of all expectations and responsibilities in DuPont. She reminded him of the days his mother was still here with him. Marinette meant more to him than Adrien could express, and soon she'd vanish from his life as fast as she'd reappeared. When that time came, he'd have to place his title and his kingdom ahead of his desires and marry someone appropriate in the eyes of the people for the sake of tradition and his domains.

But not yet.

If only for a short while, Adrien could still indulge in what little he wanted instead of following what others told him to do, something he’d done his whole life. He clenched his fists together, his mind made up. Nino could say whatever he wanted and be right about it all he pleased, but there was no way in hell Adrien could stay away from Marinette right now; neither did he want to. Knowing her, he’d be more likely to break her heart by avoiding her without an explanation than being himself during what little time together they still had. They’d have to be very careful, but if Marinette wished so, Adrien was more than ready to indulge in this unexpected present from destiny as long as they could.

The next day proceeded as usual: Adrien had breakfast with his father, then studied at the library before heading to the gardens to observe the ladies during their late morning walk. Nothing exciting was happening; everyone was up to their everyday routines, and Adrien felt positively bored. A few times, he’d caught a glimpse of Marinette at a distance, but every time she’d seem to come closer, Alya inevitably directed Marinette the opposite way. Not that it mattered much because Nino was right by his side making sure Adrien would stay as far away from Marinette as possible.

“It's for the best,” his friend repeated for the umpteenth time. “For both of you. Believe me.”

“Sure,” Adrien grumbled back, rolling his eyes. “Whatever you say, Nino.”

Lunchtime couldn't come any slower, but when it did, there was another disappointment waiting for Adrien. Due to a sudden offset of a migraine, his father had cancelled his appearance, leaving Adrien to eat alone at a table fit for twenty. With Nino away sharing his lunch with Alya, Adrien finished his meal as fast as he could and, having nothing better to do, put the mask on and headed for the rooms where his potential brides were spending their afternoon reading, sewing, drawing, or practicing whatever craft they enjoyed while trying to be social. That was an activity Adrien hadn't attended yet, and he hoped it would prove to be more helpful with the decision he’d have to make in a few weeks than watching the ladies wander around the gardens.

His eyes found Marinette as soon as he’d entered the chamber; she was drawing in a sketchbook in the corner of the room. Alya was nowhere to be seen, and so Adrien didn't think twice. Hopefully, he'd be able to at least say hello before either Nino or Alya interfered. He only managed to give her a subtle smile before Nathalie Sancoeur, his father's personal assistant, entered the room and demanded attention.  

"His Royal Highness, Prince Adrien," she proclaimed, "will host a royal ball this Sunday.”

A wave of gasps and whispers zoomed through the room. A guard by Nathalie’s side cleared his throat and asked for silence, allowing the older woman to deliver whatever else she had to say in a relatively quiet room. Adrien observed Marinette slowly pale with each word, especially the mentioning of every lady having to dance with the Prince at least once. The moment the door closed behind Nathalie’s back, buzzing filled the room again as ladies rushed to discuss the news.

Out of the corner of his eye, Adrien noticed Alya entering the room. He quickly moved closer to Marinette and whispered, “When can I catch you alone today? Without Alya knowing.”

Marinette thought a moment. “Probably only after the curfew. She hasn’t left me alone much today.”

Adrien tried to remember the guards’ schedule as quickly as he could. “Be ready half an hour past that. I’ll knock thrice.”

“Be ready for what?”

“I’ll take you somewhere,” Adrien said with a wink, “but let’s keep it a secret, so don’t tell anyone, okay?”

With a mischievous smile of her own, Marinette nodded just before Alya reached them.

“Chat Noir?” Alya asked, giving him a look. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Nope.” Adrien grinned. “Don’t mind me. I’m just doing my job guarding the lovely ladies like yourself.”

Alya shifted her attention to Marinette. “What did he say? You look a little pale.”

“That's not him,” Marinette sighed. “Mme Sancoeur just informed us that the first ball will be held in a few days, and I’m not that great with formal dancing, particularly with ‘not stepping on my partner’s feet’ aspect.”

“That's not an issue,” Alya objected, sitting down by her side. “It's just a lack of experience. Don't worry, I’ll teach you as much as I can in the next few days.”

Marinette’s face brightened. “Thank you, Alya. You’re the best.”

Alya nodded. “Don’t mention it. I promised to help you through this, and unlike some people—” she not-so-subtly glared at Adrien, “—I intend to follow through on my promises.”

“Funny finding you here,” Nino chimed in, appearing by Adrien’s side. Leaning close, he whispered into Adrien’s ear. “I leave you for one minute and you fly to a certain someone like a moth to a flame. Your lunches usually last longer. What happened?”

“Someone cancelled on me,” Adrien shrugged, unable to hide his disappointment of being caught by his friend. “So, I decided to spend my time executing my guard duties. Is that a problem? And this was the only free place to stand when I came here, so don’t look at me that way.”

Nino quirked an eyebrow. “How lucky for us then that so many other places have freed since that time, right? Would you mind if we move? You’ve spent more than enough time in this particular spot already.”

“Lead the way, oh great Carapace,” Adrien deadpanned. “You make it seem as if I have a choice.”

“You’ll thank me later,” Nino said in a low voice and headed to where Lady Riposte was looking out of a window to the sparring court, the expression of the utmost boredom and longing on her face. Adrien followed, giving Marinette a quick, apologetic smile before Nino could physically yank him away.

Knowing the guards’ rotations had never been so useful before. Not only did Adrien get to Marinette’s room undetected, but he also had a whole ten minutes to pick her up until the next guard would pass by. As promised, he knocked thrice. Marinette opened immediately. She looked lovely: a light pink dress complimented her delicate figure and that adorable blush on her cheeks beautifully. With her hair down and eyes full of questions, bewilderment, and unwavering trust, Marinette looked absolutely charming.

Before she could say anything, Adrien put a finger to his lips. “We need to keep quiet. Follow me.”

Marinette nodded and stepped out of the room, closing the door as quietly as she could. Taking her hand, Adrien started towards the most magnificent ballroom in the palace and conveniently, the farthest one from all the bedchambers. As a bonus, the guards walked around that faraway corner of the palace only a few times a night which meant that the Crystal Ballroom would give them as much privacy as was possible and the least chance of being discovered.

It took them about fifteen minutes to get there. Opening the door, Adrien couldn't take his eyes off Marinette: her expressions were one of the best things in the world to observe, and he wanted to see her reaction to what she was about to behold. Marinette didn't disappoint as absolute marvel and enchantment descended on her features the very moment she stepped inside the grandiose room.

“You like it?”

“I can’t believe you’re even asking,” Marinette whispered, taking in the interior. The sheer size of the room could leave one speechless, but it was the smart decorating choices that made this space truly magnificent. Huge floor-to-ceiling windows that dominated three of the four walls, allowing for the moonlight and the lights from the gardens to overflow the room, reflecting and sparkling in a multitude of crystals that seemed to be everywhere. A grand balcony, paintings, and wall decorations filled the remaining wall. A dozen grand, crystal-and-candle chandeliers hung from the ceiling and a few candelabras were placed strategically on a floor, so polished one could see their own reflection in it.

Marinette took a few steps farther into the room. “It’s mesmerizing,” she said, her voice breathy. “And so bright even without the light.”

“It's something the late Queen came up with,” Adrien commented with a bittersweet smile. “This was her favourite room in the whole palace, and she'd often spend time here with her husband and their son. However, more often than not, they were so busy during the day that the only time they could come here was after the sun had already gone down.” Adrien paused and walked farther into the room, his gaze focused on the middle as if seeing the scenes of the past. “They loved to dance, but the Queen didn’t want to bother the servants with lighting all the candles just for an hour or two, so she asked them to incorporate crystals all around the room instead. They reflect the moonlight, creating this soft lighting effect, and that gave the King and his Queen just enough visibility to dance. That's why it’s called The Crystal Ballroom.”

“It’s gorgeous,” Marinette whispered.

“Yeah,” Adrien echoed her quietly. “I love this room, and since we don’t need lights to be here, I thought it’d be perfect.”

“Perfect for what?” Marinette looked at him, cocking her head to the side.

“For teaching you dancing, of course.” He winked. “I promised I would, didn’t I?”

Marinette watched him for a few moments. “I- Thank you, but—Alya’s teaching me already.”

“Are you saying you don’t want my help?” Adrien asked with an exaggerated pout.

“No, that’s not it,” Marinette insisted, coming closer. “I just don’t want us to get in trouble, and I don’t think we're allowed to be in here.

“Don’t worry about that,” Adrien assured her. “That’s another reason I brought you to this specific ballroom: no one lives in this part of the castle, so the guards don’t patrol here as often. We have about three hours before the next one will pass by.”

Marinette bit her lip in hesitation. “I don’t know, Adrien. I can’t really afford to be reckless right now no matter how much I like the idea. What if tonight is not our lucky day and we’ll be caught?”

“Then I’ll just pretend I’m the Prince and tell them to forget they ever saw us.”

Marinette almost choked on air, amusement and confusion morphing on her face. “How can you pretend to be the Prince? I'm sure they know how he looks.”

“Yup,” Adrien nodded. “And that's exactly why I can pretend to be him. Because you see...” He leaned over and wiggled his eyebrows, giving her the most mischievous smile he could muster. “Many people have told me that the Prince and I look incredibly alike, and with this mask on my face and dimmed lighting in the room, I doubt that anyone could see the difference in our faces.”

“What about your voices? They’ll know the moment you speak.”

“Not an issue as well,” Adrien smirked. “Prince’s voice is calm and polite, while mine is definitely more fun, but I can impersonate him quite well.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Nope. I’ve done it before.” Adrien grinned wider. “Worked like a charm every time.”

Marinette squeaked. “Adrien, that's dangerous and reckless. They could throw you in prison for impersonating the Prince.”

Adrien stepped closer and took Marinette’s hand in his. “For you and for the opportunity to teach you dancing, I’ll risk everything I have.” He slowly raised her hands to his lips, not taking his eyes off hers to catch that adorable, flustered expression on her face when he kissed her knuckles. “But seriously,” he added. “As long as we stay quiet, there shouldn't be any issues.”

“But… Alya’s already—”

“Alya can't teach you the way I can,” Adrien interrupted. “She's never attended a ball.”

“And you have?”

Adrien’s smile turned smug. “I might have.”

“But aren’t balls for nobility only?”

“And who said I don’t have noble blood in me?”

“You work as a guard,” Marinette deadpanned. “Your mom was a maid. I didn’t think nobles worked such jobs.”

“You wound me, my Lady.” Adrien dramatically swooned. “My mother was the Queen’s personal assistant. And I’ll have you know that I’m currently on guard’s duty only because the King heightened the security measures for this ‘pick a bride’ event. Otherwise, I serve the Prince himself: a job any noble would consider the greatest of honours. What’s more, we’re more like friends, and I’m doing this whole guard thing because he asked me personally. One of the ladies is to become his future wife. He wants only the best, most trustworthy people around them.”

Marinette quirked a skeptical eyebrow. “Alya told me that was Nino’s job: Prince’s guard, his friend, and everything you’ve just said.”

Adrien nodded. “Yes. Nino’s my partner; one of a few. You didn't think the Prince had only one guard, did you? However—” He took a step toward her, “—that’s not the point. The point is that as shocking as it may sound, I’m a noble, and I have spent hours upon hours practicing the art of dancing. I can teach you much better than Alya ever could, and from your reaction to Nathalie’s announcement, I assume you need all the lessons you can get.”

“I do,” Marinette sighed. “Alya was less than impressed with my skills.”

“Then why don't we stop wasting time and get to it?” Adrien took her hand and pulled her to the middle of the room. There, he stood in front of her and bowed down. “May I have this dance, my Lady?”

“I see you really want to teach me.” Marinette giggled.

“I do.” Adrien nodded. “May I?”

“You may,” she smiled. “Though, I apologize in advance.”

“For what? Dazzling me with your dance moves?”

“For stepping on your feet.”

“I can live through that,” Adrien chuckled. “May I assume that you know the basics?”

“Barely. Only what you’ve taught me back in the day, but I’ll need a refresher.”

“Of course.” Adrien offered her his hand. Marinette took it, placing her other one on the side of his shoulder. Lifting their joined hands, he wrapped his arm around her upper back. Pulling Marinette closer, Adrien stilled, suddenly being very aware of her body’s warmth so close to him. Even in the moonlight, he couldn’t help but notice the beginnings of blush on her cheeks; her big doe eyes in the most beautiful shade of blue; her perfectly-shaped, slightly parted lips; and the scattering of tiny freckles all over the plain of her nose. When they were younger, Adrien had been this close to Marinette multiple times during many of their escapades in DuPont, but none of those times had he felt like this. Something was different because right now it felt like… Adrien didn’t know how to describe it, but none of the countless dance partners he’d had before made him feel this way. None of them caused his breath to hitch and his body to tense. None of them had ever prompted an overwhelming need to hold them like the most valuable treasure in the world.

None of them were Marinette, though.

Then, their dance at the festival a few days ago had felt nothing like this, so… it must be the room then. The Crystal Ballroom and all the memories he’d associated with it. His parents waltzing hours away in the dark, just like them right now. Yes. That's why it felt different. It had to be. This filled with moonlight room that, by the way, did wonders to Marinette's eyes. However pretty they were before, now they sparkled so beautifully Adrien didn't want to look away.

Judging by how Marinette looked at him in return, the way she tensed the moment he’d touched her and how she froze in her place just like him, Adrien suspected Marinette felt just as awkward as he did. And that was something he didn't want to happen. He’d hate to make Marinette uncomfortable.

“I’ll start to count now,” he said, finally breaking the silence and brushing the feeling aside. Whatever it was, he didn't have time to deal with it now. Adrien counted and moved his left leg. Marinette did the same, instantly stepping on his right foot.

“I’m so sorry,” she squeaked and pulled away. “I told you I’ll do that. I always forget which leg to start with.”

“That’s fine.” Adrien smiled. “Okay. Let’s try this again. I start with my left foot forward. You with your right backwards.” He thought for a moment and added, “Think of this like this: we think we’re always right. However, it’s always a good idea to step back from time to time to better see and evaluate the reality.”

“Are you sure you’re only a few years older than me?” Marinette chuckled. “You sound much wiser than that.”

Adrien laughed. “I’ll be twenty soon, but I did have many good teachers to share their wisdom with me.”

“Well, I thank you for passing it on to me,” Marinette said with a smile. “It’s a cute way to remember the moves.”

“My pleasure. Now shall we try again?”

This time, it went better. Marinette lasted a whole minute before she stepped on his foot again. The time after that, she lasted even longer. Each proceeding attempt was better and better, and soon Adrien deemed her box step to be good enough for the moment.

“Shall we try a few other moves?” he proposed. “A spin and a turn should be enough. I don’t think you’ll need anything beyond those two for this event. The Prince isn’t a fan of the extravagant dances. He prefers simple and elegant.”

“Alright,” Marinette agreed, then added, “You seem to know him well.”

“Who? The Prince?”

“Yes. What’s he like?”

“Oh. Are you interested?” Adrien teased with an amused smile. “Have you changed your mind about marrying him?”

Marinette laughed. "No. You know I couldn't do that even if I wanted, which I don't. I was just curious since there are rumours flying around that he's rude and ugly, and I'd rather believe your words than someone who hardly knows him."

“I see.” Adrien let her hand go, his eyes shifting to the windows. He shrugged. “There is not much to tell, to be honest. I wouldn't say he’s particularly ugly, and neither is he mean or rude. Or at least he’d like to think so. I’d say he’s a decent man.” He paused, thinking for a moment, before adding. “He does have a good sense of humour.”

Marinette giggled. “That’s all you can say about him?”

“I don't know what else to say,” Adrien replied. “The Prince is like everyone else: a regular human with dreams and wishes and a lot of responsibilities that come before those.”

“It must be tough for him then,” Marinette sighed. “My friend, Lady Bug, often had to comply with things she didn’t like just because she was born a noble. That’s one of the reasons I’m here now: to help her to fulfill at least some of her own wishes. I’m sure if the Prince is as decent as you say, he isn’t exactly thrilled about this whole forced marriage ordeal—unless, of course, he’s in love with one of the ladies. Personally, I’d never be able to marry anyone without loving them.”

Adrien kept looking to the side, his voice quiet and stiff as he replied, “You have no idea how much he hates this whole thing. If it were up to him, he’d wait until he falls in love with someone on his own, but… traditions and his father would have none of what the Prince wants.”

“Poor guy,” Marinette echoed.

Adrien stayed quiet for a few moments, then faced Marinette and smiled. “Well, there is nothing we can do, so let’s not dwell on it. He’s used to it by now, anyway. It's not like this is the first time he’d had to put his own desires aside for the sake of his country and traditions. Gotta pay for the privilege of being born a prince, right?”

Adrien regretted his words the instant they slipped from his lips because Marinette’s eyes suddenly flared with anger.

“Really?” she snapped. “I can't believe you! How can you say that? How can you watch your friend sacrifice his life and his happiness for the sake of obsolete, stupid traditions no one but the King cares about? Because let me tell you: people of this kingdom don't care who the Prince marries. What ‘for the sake of the country' are we talking about here?”

“Marinette—” Adrien tried to calm her down, but she continued with more fervour than he’d ever seen in her.

“How is it okay with you to see him accept spending the rest of his life with a person he doesn't love against his own wishes? It's awful! If he hates it, someone should do something about it. You're close to him. Tell him to fight for his happiness. It isn't the Dark Ages anymore. Times have changed and so should these dumb traditions!”

“It isn’t as easy as you think,” Adrien grumbled, looking down. “Don’t you think he tried to fight it? He did. And not once, but it never amounted to anything. It’s hopeless, Marinette. And it’s too late now, anyway.”

“There is nothing hopeless in this world,” Marinette countered. “And it's never too late, Adrien. It isn’t over until it’s over.Tell him that. Tell him he has to fight until the end if he doesn’t want this.”

Adrien looked at Marinette. Her eyes burned with the righteous fire of determination and justice. Averting his gaze, he bit his lip. He once thought he could change something too. He once had hoped, as well. He once had fought.

Now, Adrien knew better, but it was still nice to see that Marinette cared so much about the prince she'd never met. She was amazing as that.

“I’ll tell him.” Adrien gave her a bittersweet smile. “I can't promise he’ll do anything, but I’ll make sure he hears what you’ve just said.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

“But don’t tell him it was me who said it.”

“I won’t say anything,” Adrien promised. “Though, I’m sure he’ll figure you out on his own pretty quickly when you two meet. There are only so many—if any—ladies here who could say that kind of thing to him, except you.”

“I’ll make sure to blend in,” Marinette chuckled. “I have a mission to not get noticed by him, so don’t worry, I’ll keep my mouth shut and my opinions safely in my head.”

Adrien snickered as the sound of bells in the background announced midnight.

“That’s our cue.” He backed up and bowed down. “It was my greatest pleasure, my Lady. Allow me to escort you back to your room now.”

Marinette curtsied. “Do you think I’m ready?”

“Not yet,” Adrien replied. “But you’ve got a solid start. A few more practice sessions and no one would dare to suspect that you haven’t spent your life dancing the days away.”

“I’ve got only a few days left,” Marinette groaned.

“Don’t worry.” Adrien placed a hand on her shoulder. “I promised to help you, and I will. We’ll practice every night until the ball.”

“Are you sure you wouldn't mind? Because I do need someone to teach me and you are better than Alya.”

“I wouldn't mind in the slightest,” Adrien assured.

“Thank you,” Marinette smiled. “You're the bestest friend I've ever had.”

Adrien smiled back. “That's quite a high praise, Marinette. Thank you. And just so you know - you're one of my bestest friends too, rivalled only by Nino. Now—” He took her hand and squeezed it, “—let's get you back to your room before anyone notices I've stolen you away.”

Gabriel hated migraines. Not only did they interfere with his work, but they also made living in one of the noisiest houses in the kingdom impossible. Getting an especially nasty one when his castle hosted a good number of his son's potential brides-to-be and their servants was a nightmare. Especially since the first ball was coming in a few days and it demanded the King's attendance.

To get better sooner, Gabriel shut himself up in his bedroom, but that did him little help as the annoying murmur of countless people seethed through the windows and doors of his chamber, making his existence more than miserable as his temples pounded with pain harder and harder with every passing second. By the end of the day, desperate for relief, Gabriel ordered his personal assistant to prepare a bedroom for him in the farthest corner of the castle, eliminate all activities and all guards in that area, and keep his whereabouts a secret, so no one could bother him until he recovered. That seemed like the perfect way to finally obtain the peace and quiet he yearned for so much.

The ghosts, however, seemed to disagree as they chatted, laughed, and tumbled about the hallways every night. Gabriel had no idea his castle hosted ghosts in the first place, but that might have been his own shortcomings since this was the first time he'd occupied a room in this particular part of the castle. Actually, no one had been sleeping here for at least a decade. With the passing of his beloved Queen, the number of guests and balls at the castle significantly decreased, and even when people did stay over, the main part of the castle had more than enough bedrooms to host them all. Were the annoying noises the ghosts tortured him with for at least a few hours every night a payback for never gracing them with his Royal presence before? Gabriel didn't know, but when they commenced messing around for the third night in a row, he’d have enough. Getting out of his bed, he quickly put on a robe and stepped into a hallway.

“Stay here,” he instructed the guards at his door. “I need a walk alone.”

What he really needed, though, was to personally tell those ghosts to keep it down because seriously! Enough was enough! The ball was tomorrow, and he was nowhere close to feeling well enough to attend. To his surprise, Gabriel couldn't hear the sounds anymore once in the hallway, making him doubt his sanity for a moment. Then, he remembered that the bedroom he was occupying had a co-joint chamber that led to a balcony overlooking the Crystal Ballroom. He turned back and quietly slipped into the mentioned room, exiting onto said balcony only to instantly pull back into the shadows of the balcony's curtain because those weren't ghosts waltzing around in the ballroom.

“Flow and elegance, Marinette,” he heard the man—a guard, considering the mask on his face—say. “It's all about the grace of the movement. Relax; otherwise, you'll keep messing it up.”

“Great,” the girl, “Marinette”, deadpanned. “Elegance and grace are exactly what I have plenty off. You know I trip over thin air all the time. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. Let’s do this again.” The man—whose voice sounded very familiar— walked to the girl and took her in his arms, ready to dance. The pair whirled around the room in a silent waltz, with the man quietly counting. They weren't bad. They danced quite lovely, actually, until something happened and the pair tumbled to the floor, the man spinning them around in midair, so the girl landed on his chest instead of the other way around.

“I’m so sorry.” Gabriel heard her saying. “Adrien, are you okay?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened.

Adrien? As in his son Adrien? No wonder the voice sounded familiar.

In a moment, an amused chuckle came from Adrien, followed by something Gabriel couldn't distinguish, but the girl pulled back and sat down, crossing her arms over her chest with her back towards his son. Adrien jerked right up and threw his arms around the girl’s waist, pulling her in a hug as he laughed.

Gabriel stood shocked still at the scene. Where were his son’s manners? Where were his morals and ideals? Here he was, the heir to the throne, in the middle of a ballroom at midnight nuzzling up to some girl and all unsupervised. How utterly scandalous! That's not how the Royals behaved. That’s not how any son of his should even think to behave!

The girl seemed to agree with Gabriel as she untangled herself from his clingy son with a huff and stood.

“Take me back to my room,” she demanded. “I better fake a sickness and not attend the ball than embarrass myself.”

Gabriel stilled. So the girl was invited to the ball? Perhaps, one of the potential brides?

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, my Lady, but there is no way Nathalie will let you do that.”

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow. My Lady?

His son fell quiet for a moment, then stood up beside the pouting girl. “Do you trust me, Marinette?”

There was a pause. “You know I do,” she quietly answered. “Why you keep asking?”

“Do you trust me to lead you through this dance? Do you trust me enough to follow me instead of trying to remember the moves yourself?”

The girl thought for a short moment before silently nodding.

Gabriel frowned. Was Adrien helping this Marinette to practice her dancing? Because it certainly looked that way. Nathalie's words about one of the potential brides being poorly trained came to his mind. Could it be her? He’d need to keep an eye on this girl. Mainly because she, somehow, seemed to be very close to his son.

“Okay, then let’s try this one more time,” Adrien said. “This time, though, just look at me and let me lead you. Okay?”

For a brief moment, Gabriel considered coming out and stopping whatever this was, but something in the air had shifted as he observed the pair giving it one more chance. This was a far cry from the previous dance. This one seemed graceful and effortless as Adrien guided Marinette around the room, both of them gazing into each other's eyes instead of watching their feet as she’d done before.

After a turn about the room, Adrien stopped and bowed. “You did amazingly,” he said. “I told you you can do it.”

The girl curtsied. “It's all thanks to you. I doubt I can replicate it with anyone else.”

“Trust me,” Adrien responded. “If you can do this with me, you’ll be able to dance with anyone just as effortlessly. Just remember to trust your partner to guide you through the dance.”

Gabriel’s brow furrowed at the odd phrasing. It sounded as though he was teaching her how to dance instead of helping her brush up on her skills.

“I will,” the girl said, a smile clear in her tone. “Thank you again, Adrien. Shall we go now? The ball is tomorrow, and I can use a few extra hours of sleep. Alya's starting to suspect something, seeing as I'm suddenly always sleepy these days.”

“Tell me about it,” Adrien laughed. “Nino’s been on my case all day today. It's good we don’t have to continue this anymore because I can't guarantee that I'll be able to escape him much longer.”

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow. Just what was Adrien doing that involved sneaking away from that Nino boy? Usually, they sneaked around together.

“Well, I’m very thankful for your courage and bravery and all the risks you took in your quests to help me.” The girl curtsied once more. “I’ll even allow you to claim a reward of your choice, providing I pass this ball without a hitch.”

“Oh, really?” Adrien said, his tone far too suggestive to be deemed appropriate. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He added something quietly and taking Marinette by hand, led her away.

Gabriel headed back to his bedroom, much to his surprise discovering his migraine had vanished. That was unexpected. As well as his son teaching a lady how to waltz in the middle of a night without a chaperone. How in the world had he even thought of doing such a scandalous thing, and why was the girl allowing his son such indecency? Where was her noble pride? He’d have to keep an eye on both of them to prevent any potential disasters—  

Gabriel froze at his bed with a thought. Maybe this was Adrien’s way to get to know the ladies better before he’d have to choose one of them? His son was very adamant about that aspect, so… could it be possible that he’s sneaking around with each of them separately to get better acquainted, and Gabriel had caught only one of his multiple escapades? The man frowned. That wouldn't do. This was no way for his son to behave. If Adrien wanted to spend one-on-one time with his potential brides-to-be then he should’ve asked. Gabriel wasn't a monster; he’d organize that for his son. In fact, he’d arrange it without Adrien asking. Starting the day after the ball, his son would have scheduled time with each of the ladies in public where the guards can chaperone them. The way it should be done, not whatever it was that Adrien was doing on his own.

[giftofshewbread]

CRITICAL MESSAGE *READ*

Does God Ever Let You Down? :: By Steve Schmutzer 

Published on: February 26, 2021

Does God ever let you down?

Wait. Before you answer, I’m not interested in cliché replies. You know, “In all things, God works for the good of those who love Him,” or, “God’s plans are to give me a hope and a future.” I don’t want to hear that old standby, “He knows what’s best for me.”

Those responses ARE Biblically-based, and so they’re true when they’re properly applied with the right heart to the right situation. But in my experience, too many people say this kind of stuff when their faith has reached its limits. They are barely able to endure their pain, describe their confusion, or contain their rage.

Just because we can force certain words out of our mouth does not mean we are saying what we are truly feeling. Just because we can’t admit what’s really going on does not mean it isn’t.

Let’s be totally honest here – have you ever been mad at God? Did you ever bargain with Him in your heart and now you’re upset He didn’t keep up His end of the arrangement? Are you still “fighting the good fight,” but you’re exhausted and despaired? Did you take the high road – but you got the raw end of the deal?

Now – let’s get down to the brass tacks: Did you pour yourself into the task of raising your children the right way only to have them disappoint you with their choices?

Are you laboring long and quietly in a ministry while others with less gifting, less commitment, and less maturity are getting the reward and recognition?

Have you prayed and tried for years for a baby and one still hasn’t come? Meantime, irresponsible parents are popping out feral kids like rabbits?

Did you carefully plan for a simple and responsible retirement – only to see it all evaporate in the wake of unexpected health problems and medical bills?

Have you prayed around the clock for justice and truth to prevail, but all you see is the flourishing of evil and deceit?

Have you lost your job and now you are struggling to find work that pays the bills?

Did you find the man or woman of your dreams, but things have changed and now you wish you hadn’t?

So let me ask the question one more time: does God ever let you down? If you are feeling that way, or are tempted to – you are not alone. Even people that knew Jesus personally might have felt that way… or at least they may have felt they had reason to.

You see, we can talk all day long about our “relationship with God,” but three Biblical characters come to my mind that actually knew Him personally. I mean, they interacted with Jesus, they watched Him, listened to Him, and learned from Him. They knew who Jesus really was! Their lives are recorded in the New Testament as being part of His life, so the personal connection went both ways.

Despite that, I think it can be argued that all three of these people might have felt some disappointment with Jesus. Put another way, they might have admitted they felt let down by God.

But all three characters faced their natural reactions and chose to respond to Jesus in different ways. I think we can learn something from their examples because these are ways we still respond to Jesus Christ today.

The first of these three characters is John the Baptist. He had a key role before Jesus’ ministry. Since he and Jesus were cousins, he probably knew Jesus as they were growing up together. Maybe they even played together as children – this is not an unreasonable assumption.

John the Baptist turned out to be a rough and rugged character – unconventional, certainly. He was a strong man with equally strong convictions. He didn’t think twice about confronting the hypocritical religious leaders and calling them a “brood of vipers” (Matt. 3:7). His straight talk and no-nonsense approach attracted truth-seekers, and he had many followers and disciples.

A time came, however, when John the Baptist prepared the way for Jesus’ ministry as a “voice in the wilderness” (John 1:23). He did this because he had a right view of Jesus. John said of Him, “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30), so John the Baptist grasped the proper priorities and how things needed to be.

None of this was an act. John the Baptist was a man of God who had a passion for proclaiming the truth and for living it out. His extraordinary ministry and exemplary character were affirmed when Jesus said of him that there was “…none greater” (Luke 7:28). To be sure, John the Baptist was the real deal.

It is difficult to know how much time John the Baptist actually had with Jesus Christ. There was that special occasion where John had baptized Jesus (Matt. 3:13-17), and John had felt that Jesus should have baptized him instead. But in their adult years, it seems they had little face-to-face contact.

We know John the Baptist publicly confronted Herod Antipas for the king’s sins (Matt. 14:1-13), and this had resulted in John’s arrest and imprisonment – and ultimately his beheading. This happened early in the ministry of Jesus Christ, so there was no opportunity for further contact between the two cousins after that point.

It is after John’s arrest that we learn of his doubts about Jesus Christ. In a desperate situation with his life on the line, John the Baptist faced gnawing questions. Reports of Jesus had found their way into John’s cell, and news of Jesus’ ministry had worked its way into the fabric of John’s deepest frustrations. Time had passed since that glorious baptism, and Jesus’ ministry was now thriving while John’s had abated.

John’s disciples fed him bits and pieces of information as they were able to, and it’s fair to say these reports reinforced the misgivings John had of Jesus. You see, the ministries and activities of Jesus and John were very different, and it’s not beyond reason to suggest these differences aroused John’s concerns.

John’s choices had set him apart from the crowd while Jesus’ choices had blended in. John the Baptist and his disciples fasted often, but Jesus and his disciples ate and drank with sinners (Matt. 11:18-19). John performed no signs in his earthly ministry (John 10:41), but Jesus – and his disciples – performed miracles of every kind (Matt. 9:35, 10:1). John lived reclusively, but Jesus was a very public person who was often surrounded by enormous crowds of people.

Now John was sitting in prison, captive most of all to his own disappointments. It’s not hard to imagine the questions that may have gone through his mind, such as, If Jesus was really the Messiah as he himself – John – had announced, then why wasn’t Jesus doing more? Why was Jesus not getting down to the business of establishing His kingdom and burning up the wicked with unquenchable fire? (Matt. 3:12). Was he here in prison because Jesus was powerless to do anything about the situation?

When John the Baptist could resist his own insecurities no longer, he sent some of his disciples to confront Jesus and to ask Him directly, “Are you the promised Messiah or should we be looking for someone else?” (Matt. 11:2-3). The question is a revealing one because it shows John had expectations of Jesus that were unfulfilled. It also shows that John the Baptist was unsure, doubtful, and delicate – the same way you and I have felt from time to time.

John wanted to know if he’d been misled. Was Jesus their only hope or was somebody else going to come along that was a better fit for the job? Was Jesus Christ really the Messiah, or not?

Jesus sent John’s disciples back to John with an answer, but it was hardly the one John the Baptist was seeking. Jesus challenged John to consider the evidence of His miracles, and he added, “…blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me.” In other words, Jesus exhorted John to cling to the truth of Old Testament Scripture. He did not give John a simple “yes” or “no” answer, but he left him hanging a bit. Jesus responded to John’s heart instead of his mind because John’s heart was the seat of his faith.

We can say John the Baptist was wrong for the ideas he had about how Jesus needed to operate, but – honestly – we’re not much different. We expect God to work in certain ways too, and if God does not fulfill our expectations, we also get disappointed.

We may not like to admit it, but it’s easy for us to think that if our God is really the God He says He is, then we have a right to expect something different from Him. I feel it’s likely that John died with some of his questions unanswered. That doesn’t mean his faith wasn’t real. It means he was human, and because he was human, his reactions to Jesus Christ were imperfect – the same way yours and mine can be too.

A second character that probably felt let down by Jesus Christ was Judas Iscariot. What do we know of him?

As one of the original 12 disciples, Judas Iscariot basically lived with Jesus for three years. He was given assignments and divine powers by Jesus (Matt. 10:1-4), and he was the official treasurer for the group (John 12:6) – albeit a deceptive and self-serving one.

The bottom line is Judas saw Jesus perform many miracles and he heard Jesus teach many times. He learned directly from the King of kings and Lord of lords, and he had the opportunity to grow as few others did. He saw the mistakes and the actions of the other disciples, and he learned from all of this. In other words, as a disciple of Jesus Christ, Judas Iscariot had the optimal schooling in the Gospel of the kingdom.

But it’s likely that Judas Iscariot was also a Jewish zealot. Many scholars believe his surname, “Iscariot” was a form of the title Sicarii, meaning “dagger-men.” This was a group of zealots who despised the Roman oppression. They were known to carry a knife with them, so they were prepared to assassinate traitors and capitulators. The Jewish zealots were principally motivated by socio-economic and political considerations. They believed that if they turned their nation back to God and incited a war against the Romans, the Messiah would rise to lead them and establish His Kingdom.

It’s easy to see how all this may have played out in Judas’ mind. Jesus was a righteous Jew and a descendant of King David. He spoke of establishing His kingdom, and he cast out demons, produced abundant food, and controlled the weather. Surely Jesus could lead the Jews to victory over the Romans and usher in God’s Kingdom! In Judas’ activist mind, his own ideas made perfect sense.

But somewhere along the line, the situation changed. Judas became disappointed as Jesus let him down. Jesus began to talk about dying, and His descriptions of His coming Kingdom didn’t fit with Judas’ ideals. Judas began to doubt Jesus, and he began to openly chide Jesus for His choices and priorities (John 12:3-6).

We know how this turned out. Judas chose to betray Jesus for 30 pieces of silver (Luke 22:3-6; Matt. 27:3-5). Perhaps Judas had come to a point where he felt Jesus was a fake – a false Messiah, someone who was not fulfilling the expectations that Judas had of a ruler that would lead Israel into her kingdom. We don’t know for sure – but it all seems to fit the larger story.

The bigger issue is the questions that are raised by how things ultimately transpired: How could Judas live, eat, walk, and talk with Jesus Christ day in and day out for three years and still turn out as he did? How could Judas miss the Messiah when he knew him so well? How could Judas hear the Gospel so clearly and miss having the right relationship with Jesus Christ?

We are left with some element of speculation, but it’s reasonable to assume that Judas resented Jesus and felt justified in his own views (Mark 14:6-16). Ultimately, that triggered his decision to turn Jesus over to the authorities. The greater account of Judas Iscariot suggests he had some underlying anger issues with the whole situation – which may explain why “Satan entered him” (John 13:27). The Bible teaches that our anger always gives Satan an opportunity (Eph. 4:27).

In the end, Judas’ response to Jesus Christ was likely dominated by a selfish desire for political change. Judas wanted conditions that were not there. Jesus didn’t overthrow the Romans as Judas wanted Him to, and so Judas’ selfish intentions led to profound personal compromise. It fostered resentment, clouded better judgment, and it ultimately destroyed him. Judas Iscariot wanted things to work out his way – not Jesus’ way. When Jesus didn’t do what Judas most wanted Him to do, Judas was through with Him.

Today, Judas Iscariot’s name is synonymous with betrayal, treachery, and disloyalty. He’s one of the most hated figures in Scripture – so it’s not without some hesitation that I suggest his patterns are often our own.

To lessen the blow, I’ll speak for myself. It is easy for me to get focused on one or two goals in my life to the exclusion of all else God is trying to do. In this situation, I can end up ignoring the things God is doing in my life, the lessons He is teaching me, or the way He is working in the life of my church, my friends, my family, and even my country.

Because it’s natural for me to become selfish in my expectations of God, it’s not hard to start compromising here and there and doing things I once never thought I would. I believe there is a huge principle at stake here. You see, we can be surrounded by believers and ministry and still fall. We can hear the regular teaching of God’s Word and still fail. We can witness God at work and still miss the most important need to be in a right relationship with God.

If we persist in thinking about ourselves first – what we can get out of the situation, what we think the outcomes should be, or how we feel “who” should be doing “what,” then we completely miss what God most needs to accomplish in our own lives the very same way Judas missed it. At that point, resentments creep in and we say and do things we ought not to.

And here’s the third and final character: the thief on the cross. By this, I mean the “good” thief (Luke 23:39-43). We don’t even know his name. There were two thieves who died with Jesus, and while both received the penalty for their crimes, the “good” thief gave Jesus the proper respect.

I feel that – for various reasons – the “good” thief is the most remarkable man of the three individuals we have assessed. What do we know of him? Not much, I’m afraid.

We do know that when Jesus was crucified, there was a cross on either side of Him. On His left and right were two criminals. In the Greek language, they are called “kakourgos,” which has the straightforward meaning of “criminal,” “evil-doer,” or “one who commits serious crimes.”

The “good” thief was a bad man. Other gospels call him a “robber.” He could have been a bandit – someone that ambushed others, took advantage of them, and left them for dead. It’s very likely that this “good” thief had been the sort of person that Jesus had in mind when He told His parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). This “good” thief had been a burden, a blight on society – and so he was sentenced to death for his crimes.

But despite his faulty resume, this “good” thief had a right view of God! He asked the other bellicose thief, “Don’t you fear God?” He put the “bad” thief in his place by correcting the latter’s improper assumptions of Jesus Christ.

To put this remarkable situation another way, the “good” thief’s mouth revealed the condition of his heart (Luke 6:45). The Bible teaches that you are what you say, and the “good” thief said to Jesus Christ, “…remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

Whoa! By ANY measure, this is an astounding statement!

Consider that by this point, all of Jesus’ disciples had fled the scene, and only John is recorded as being at the cross (John 19:26). These disciples were the men Jesus had personally trained. These were the guys who had seen supernatural evidence of Jesus’ power and authority. These were the guys who had learned from the Messiah Himself – and they were nowhere to be found!

The “good” thief, on the other hand, had had none of that training and experience. He had not spent the same time with Jesus Christ, and he had not seen all the miracles Jesus had done. He knew far less about Jesus than others did. By conventional standards, the “good” thief had missed the boat.

On top of all that, Jesus Christ was now dying. Beaten and bloodied so badly, He was now unrecognizable (Isaiah 52:14). Jesus was breathing His last right there beside the “good” thief, and by all measures of the term, Jesus Christ appeared mortal. Few people at that crucifixion scene were confident in Jesus Christ’s future kingdom.

But faith sees through the way things seem to the way they really are (Heb. 11:1), and so here the “good” thief showed more faith than many upright personalities in the Scriptures. The “good” thief saw Jesus Christ correctly. He didn’t see a dying man – he saw a living King of kings. He didn’t see someone who had failed and was unable to deliver – he saw someone who was assured of having the final victory. He didn’t see someone who was abused and humiliated by others – he saw someone who had infinite power.

In short, the “good” thief recognized Jesus Christ as the Messiah! He knew Jesus was not an imposter or someone who couldn’t deliver on His promises. The “good” thief looked beyond the limitations of that horrible situation, beyond the natural questions that saturated that awful scene, and he fully understood that Jesus Christ would still receive and set up His everlasting kingdom.

The “good” thief faced personal adversities that exceeded those challenges John the Baptist and Judas Iscariot had faced, and yet – against all human understanding! – he still believed that Jesus was exactly who He said He was. For his astounding demonstration of genuine faith, the “good” thief received way more benefit than he had bargained for.

It’s a weighty question, but I have to ask it. Which one of these three individuals are you most like right now? Are you like John the Baptist: insecure, unsure, disappointed, and needing reassurance that God is still able to be the God you most need? Are you asking God to reaffirm Himself to you so that you can be convinced of His promises and plans?

Perhaps you are like Judas Iscariot: angry, resentful, focused on what you most want and what you feel the situation needs to be. Are you taking in the regular teaching of God’s Word and participating in a ministry – but it’s having little effect on changing who you are and how you’re seeing things?

Or, are you like the “good” thief? You are in a place where the odds are stacked against you – and by all standard assessments, there is no clear evidence that God is demonstrating Himself to you the way your desperate situation most needs Him to. Do you find yourself in a tenuous spot where you cannot see the power of God in the circumstances you are facing – – – and yet your heart is still bursting with faith?

I cannot answer the tough questions of these last few paragraphs for anyone but myself. However, my prayer for all of us is that our faith rises up and shows itself in the tough and uncertain times just as the faith of the “good” thief did.

The “good” thief didn’t see Jesus Christ as someone who had let him down – he properly saw the only one who gave him hope.

[pcygoldenchild]

Try My Luck

✨summary: You knew of him but didn’t know he knew of you. And when Chanyeol looked that much into someone, he wanted them and wouldn’t stop until he had them one way or another.

✨warning: NSFW, dirty talk, age play, cunnilingus, slight BDSM, sexual intercourse.

✨A/N: I original said this would be a short request buttttt it got so long and good I just had to make it a one shot. But this was originally a request! (Anon: Can I request a Chanyeol mafie smut please?)

It may be cliche to think of yourself as the shy girl that no one paid the slightest attention to. But in your case, you actually were. There were few people in your life and you were quite secluded. You focused on work and writing the most and were content with being mostly alone. You had friends of course from work but they knew you were very reserved. You worked as publicist for a magazine that took you almost a year to secure a job at. It was your life’s work being put into this job and you were happy with it being your main focus.

You usually left your office around 4pm but you loved to stay longer and just sketch. Today was your typical Friday night. You left the office around 6pm and denied going for drinks with your co-workers. You actually wanted to go celebrate but you were also due for a Friday night alone. You made a reservation for a new restaurant that opened up this week and headed home to get changed into more suitable attire. It was a rather fancy restaurant which you have grown to love indulging in. You were well paid and loved to treat yourself but you weren’t an unreasonable spender, just splurged a lot. You decided to go for a black tight dress that stopped right below your knees with a sweetheart neck line. You wore your hair in a low lose ponytail and black heels.

When you walked into the restaurant, you understood all the talk. Rumors went around about how the owner was this big mafia guy just trying to funnel his money into something clean. You didn’t buy it but of course you knew there was a big scandal with the mafia infiltrating the business world. But from the sight of your surroundings, you started to believe the rumors. It was extravagantly decorated and a more darker restaurant; dim lighting and smooth jazz. The customers were all very sophisticated looking handsome men. A few women wrapped around their arms that showed nothing platonic between them. As you waited for your table you could feel the eyes of those staring at you. It’s like you didn’t fit in but you definitely looked the part. A part if you liked sitting among these supposed dangerous people. That’s part of the reason why you go to these restaurants, to stand out but blend in. It was the only bit of excitement in your life and in the case that anything happened from it, it would be worth it.

Once you were seated and were on your second glass of wine, you were joined by a very handsome young man. He couldn’t be any older than 28. He was very tall and fit his suit well. He had such a cute face with big ears that poked out behind his slighty blond hair. The way the eyes of others followed him let you know he was important.

“Hello beautiful.” he said. His voice was like thunder, unexpected from the looks of him.

“Hello stranger.” you say sipping your wine. You weren’t the best with wine or alcohol for that matter but it was only your second glass. But you still knew you were effected by it since you weren’t panicking at the strikingly handsome man staring at you.

“Dining alone on a Friday night?” he said as a server came over and poured him a glass of very expensive champagne. He had to be important around here.

“I do it quite often. It’s peaceful and a special occasion.” you said. Somehow you were very comfortable talking to him. But you knew in the back of your head he’s someone dangerous.

“Special occasion? Well you look dressed the part. Let me guess? Promotion?” he asked looking you up and down. You shook your head.

“Hmm, new boyfriend? That’s not it, he’d be here with you. How about new place?” he guessed again. His simple way of talking making you smile.

“The occasion, Mr. Stranger is that I’m alone on a Friday.” you smile. He laughs and shows his pearly teeth. He asked if you ordered yet and you told him no. You like to enjoy the atmosphere with a glass of wine first to unwind. In reality you liked to people watch in places like this.

“Can I show you something?” he asks smirking. There was never a time where you would consider this.

“Mr. Stranger, I don’t go around with people who haven’t even told me thier name in a place like this.” you say leaning forward. He was still smirking. He took your glass and finished the last bit of wine.

“I’m Chanyeol and I own this place. And you need a refill.” he said standing up with his hand out. You blushed a little from not realizing that’s why everyone was staring and serving him so well. He wiggles his fingers as you stared deciding if you should go or not.

“I won’t bite, I promise. Unless you want me to.” he teases. You smirk and take his hand, what could go wrong with this mysterious man? You did want the excitement for once.

He led you up some stairs to the inside balcony of the restaurant that overlooked the tables. There were a few tables and a long booth that lined the wall. It was very exclusive feeling, like a VIP section in a club. He sat down on the chair facing the railing overlooking the restaurant. You stood next to him and looked down wondering if he would give you a seat. He looked up at you and spread his legs more.

“You’ve made it this far beautiful. Why not take a risk?” he said smiling up at you. You crossed your arms and leaned on your elbows in the railing. You weren’t going to be that easy with this man you just met. You heard him laugh and turned to look at him. He was staring at your ass biting his lip.

“You don’t have to tease me sweetheart. I’m already a little obsessed.” he smirks with his hand resting on his bulge pushing through his pants.

“Do you not see that as extremely creepy Mr. Stranger?” you ask turning around to face him and lean on the railing. He slides his chair so he’s right in front you you.

“I’m no stranger to you. And I know quite a bit about you. And call me babe. I really wanna hear it from you.” he said running his hands up your thighs. You push his hands off and scoff at him.

“This is the first we’ve met and the first I’ve saw you. We are strangers. And I’m not calling you that.” you laugh. Was he insane?

“You’re wrong. I’m pretty notorious around here; everyone knows me. And you sweetheart, you have been on my radar for a while now.” he said, hands playing with the hem of your dress. His face was right in front of your womanhood and if you weren’t in such a dire need of sex you’d push him away. But he was only close to you, no harm done right?

“What are you talking about Chanyeol?” you ask a little breathless. He smirks and brings his hands up higher rubbing his thumbs into the fabric.

“Your name is Y/N. You work at SM magazine as a publicist. You live alone in a condo. You’re very secluded, very to yourself. I first saw you at my other restaurant and wonder what a girl like you were doing in a place like that. You were clearly a little wealthy but not a face I knew of among the people I usually get at my restaurants. I took a liking to you and ever since then, I have waited to see you again.” he said. You were a little too shocked to say anything. Who was he and why did he know everything about you? And why were his hands slowly riding your dress up?

“I told you, I’m Chanyeol and I own this place. I own three others in the city. You’ve been to all of them. But I bet you know that. You tend to hit up all the dangerous spots. You know the rumors about the owner of this place. About him being in the mafia and all that. I’ll let you decide if that’s true or not with the information you have now. But I’m sure you’re already aware of the man whose hands are on your body right now.” his hands grab your thighs. You were slightly turned on. You’d never been in a situation nearly as interesting as this.

“What do you want with me? If you are who you say you are, why look into me? You could have anyone you want.” you ask. Why be interested in someone just because they weren’t one of the familiar faces in a restaurant?

“Hmm you’re who I want. You’re different and fresh. You’ve been hidden all your life never being exposed to this. I want to keep it that way but also make you mine. And if I’m being honest right now, you look so fucking sexy it makes me want to tear you apart. And you have a desire for danger whether you want to admit it or not. I can be that danger.” he said grabbing your ass now. You let out a whimper at his words and he smiles. You haven’t had any in so long you were considering letting him have you for tonight.

“When was the last time someone pleased you? I mean you are pretty lonely aren’t you? Can I please you? It’s all I’ve wanted since you walked in here wearing this dress.” he said eyeing you. This was all moving too fast. You just met the guy.

“Chanyeol wait. I literally just met you. You tell me you’re in the mafia, that you basically stalk me and that you want to please me. What am I supposed to say or do?” you say pushing him back. He removed your hand from his chest and kissed it.

“Do nothing and say yes.” is all he says before his hand slides up your skirt between your legs. He rubs his hand over your clothed core feeling the wetness there and smirks.

“See, you want this don’t you? You want me? I’m right here all you have to do is say it. Say yes. Say yes to the danger and fun you want. I can be all of it and more. Just sign the little line.” he says pushing your dress up more. You open your legs a bit to let him get a better feel and he takes that as a yes. He pulls your panties down and off you and puts them in his pocket.

“Leg up beautiful. And hold onto the railing. Don’t want you to fall while I’m enjoying myself.” he says as he takes your leg and hooks it over his shoulder. His face is right in front of your core and he smiles. He goes directly to sucking your clit making you grab onto the railing and moan. He licks up your folds and hums in appreciation at your moans and taste. He’s hungry for you like he’s waited so long for this. You forget there are people right under you. If they were to look up they’d see you being devoured. You tried to keep quiet, tried to slow him down by pulling his hair but it wasn’t working. His tongue worked on your clit as he slid one of his thick fingers inside you. You instantly tightened around him. It was a foreign feeling having something inside you after such a drought. He pulled his mouth away making you whine and looked up at you as he added a second finger. You can’t help but moan out from the feeling.

“You like that? You’re tighter than I thought. I know you don’t go around fucking anyone but do you at least fuck yourself? You’re so sensitive and tight you’re about to cum on my fingers aren’t you?” he says teasing you. He goes back to sucking on your clit and stares at you when he flicks his tongue on the bud sending you over the metaphorical edge; almost sending you over the actually edge. You cum on his tongue and fingers and are left shaking everytime he licks your folds. You suddenly feel embarrassed about what just happened and hurry to pull your dress down. He stands up and smiles down at you.

“Oh come on. You can’t be shy now. I’ve only just got a taste of you. What do you say I fuck you with something much bigger? You won’t be able to hold your screams and they’d definitely notice.” he said licking his fingers.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to expose me to your life. That’s pretty exposed if you ask me. To see you fucking someone who they’d presume as your new whore.” you say still embarrassed.

“Mm well you’ll be having me inside you one way or another. But you’re right, when I have you, it’ll just be us. Stay with me until I leave. I’ll take you home and give you what you really want beautiful.” he says pulling you flush against him. You were absolutely terrified now that it hit you that you’d be alone with a mafia thug. But you were turned on from the first orgasm you’ve had in months and he didn’t seem like he’d hurt you. Not in a bad way at least.

(I actually don’t like this one shot after I’ve read it 20 times but that’s just me being a perfectionist. Hope you enjoyed it!

xoxo golden 🕊)

[chogiwank]

A Year’s Farewell - NonIdol!Jaehyun Smut&Fluff | Part 2

You Can Read Part 1 Here

Word Count: 2,502

Warnings: Smut, Phone Sex, Toy, Sir Kink/Mr.Jung, kinda proofread???

Pairing: Law Major!Jaehyun, Non Idol!Jaehyun x University Student!FemaleReader

A/N: I mean I really hope you guys like this because I’ve been working on this as much as I could since like January oh god and its still probably shit enjoy!!hopefully also side note,, happy birthday to jung jaehyun!! the softest bean and wow im so in love destroy me please

Knock, Knock…

The soft taps on the door caught his attention from sitting on the couch, watching his weekly reruns of ‘Friends’ on Netflix. Standing up to answer the door, checking the time - 10:00PM he wondered who it’d be so late, definitely not recalling order for take-out. Opening the door revealed a female with baggage and bundled up with a jacket to keep her warm,

“Hello,” he kindly greeted the girl, her nose red from the cold outside. “is there anything I can help you with?”

“Hi, I’m so sorry it’s so late but I just came back from a summer trip - I didn’t know if you’d be awake…” She cleared her throat, unwrapping her scarf from her neck and unzipping the jacket.

Jaehyun cocked an eyebrow at her, “You might be mistaken.”

“Uh no, actually I didn't get to fill out the housing form, but I got some luck since your old roommate dropped out so hi, hey, how’s it going, I guess we live together now.” She flashed a smile at him, “I’m Y/N, great to meet you.”

Jaehyun’s ears turned red slightly embarrassed knowing he’d be sharing a dorm with a girl, and even more, realizing the first thing she sees him in is duck pyjamas, “Nice to see you too, let me help you in.”

“Thanks.” She laughed, “love the pyjamas by the way.” teasingly winking picking up her suitcase into the dorm. His ears turn a brighter shade of red, grabbing onto the rest of her bags and dragging them into the vacant bedroom.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be a bother to you for that long,” sliding off her jacket onto the bed. “I’ll be out next semester.”

“Why is that?”

“The apartment I’m supposed to be in is occupied since there was a little mix-up, so the resident will be out by the time the second semester comes around.”

“Oh, okay,” Jaehyun awkwardly laughs. “Well I should be leaving you alone, don’t want to invade your privacy or anything.” Turning around to walk out back to the living space.

“Wait, I saw you were watching Friends, mind if I join you?” Enthusiastically he accepted happily to have someone on his lonely weekly binge. “Alright, just ten minutes and I’ll be there.” That first night the two bonded from strangers to acquaintances over Netflix and junk food, despite the unexpected meeting and ungodly hours of the night, - laughing and getting to know each other just a little, this being the beginning of it all.

Exams, final exams are coming up, all the stress headaches and late night study sessions begun. This was it, this was going to happen sooner or later I knew it, my sanity coming to borderline insanity. The shooting head pains - whether it be lack of sleep or too much studying - making me hallucinate, my brain pulling tricks on me and the fact I was practically alone in the library did not help even a bit. I swear my eyes just made me see Casper the ghost or something near. She thought.

The unreasonable hours she’s been studying late into the night, right now at three (3) AM exactly. Abandoning her workspace to search what she claims to see, calling out ‘Hello’s’ and ‘Anyone? Please answer.’ Turning the corner she’d lost balance bumping into a hard chest -hearing a book’s thump as it hit the ground- her fall halt by a hand grabbing her arm. Opening her eyes she tightly shut expecting to harshly hit the ground, unmasking the mystery of the said ‘Casper,’

“Jaehyun?” He gave an apologetic smile.

“Hey, sorry I scared you.” Helping her upright on both feet. “You were gone so late, I kind of got worried when I got up for a glass of water and you weren’t passed out on the couch with your books.”

She slightly blushed at the male’s concern towards her, “Well I mean, thanks but it would’ve been nicer and less scary if you’d told me you were coming.”

“I know I just didn’t want to disturb you beforehand, guess I should’ve planned it out better.”

“It’s alright, but you really are so pale, you looked like a ghost!” She exclaimed.

“Well how about I just changed my skin to orange? Less frightening?”

“That’s appalling.” The two laughing in unison as they gather Y/N’s materials and head back to their shared apartment, ready for a best-as-can-be goodnight’s sleep.

And with that, she woke up once again in the library. This time in broad daylight packed with many others.

Oh, it was a dream. The reminisce of when she first developed unknown feelings for Jaehyun, his unexpected kind-heartedness settled a secret warmth within her heart.

She must’ve passed out halfway through reading her textbook and writing notes. Sighing she collects her belongings returning to her apartment. Setting down her backpack and plopping onto the couch - her mind jumbled with thoughts and memories of her boyfriend. - a new year of University begun again and he’d flown overseas for job placement and studies the whole year. One complete year without him and going through school without their weekly night routine of cuddles, kisses and chats. Considering the amount of stress which would sometimes build up, he helped to get rid of it by deep, comforting talks or sensational sex - rough or sweet however she’d preferred. She fathomed what to do in her situation and really all she needed was to see him.

Sending a video chat from her phone, she pleads to all those superior to let him pick up - a smile forming upon her features as his face pops up on screen - her request heard.

“Hey baby, how are you?” He spoke cheerfully, face beaming. His tousled hair and rosy cheeks, visible due to him being barefaced, gave him a gentle look. Oh how badly she’d missed the sight of him, his arms wrapping around her with a soft “hello beautiful” and peck, greeting each other after their long schedules.

“Oh, I’m so sorry were you busy?”

“No, not really I’m just finishing up some notes,” he cleared his throat. “listen, I’m so sorry for not calling.”

“In all honesty, me too, These four (4) weeks have been hectic, I’ve had no time,” a clear voice crack heard. “But at least now we can talk.”

Interrupting his notetaking, he looks at her with eyebrows furrowed, “are you okay?” She shakes her head no. “Babe, talk to me please don’t cry.”

“I-it, it’s just so much workload from school and I haven’t been managing many shifts…”

Jaehyun nods his head, encouraging her to continue as he listens to her bothers,

“So I barely have the cash to buy proper food, it’s just been the cheapest, greasiest fast food I could find. And I…” sniffing as she sobs, tears wetting her cheeks. “I miss you so much. I want you to hold me and come back soon.”

“Listen to me,” Jaehyun speaks sternly. “First off, don’t cry you know how much it pains me when you do.” Deeply inhaling she wipes away her tears, sitting up on the couch and bites her bottom lip. Nodding as she motions him to continue speaking,

“You are so precious, don’t starve. You’ve got my key, I’ve got a good amount of money for you to use-”

“Jae, no, I can’t-”

“Yes you can, what’s mine is yours. Please, stay healthy. It’s in my closet a little safe box behind all my clothes, emergency money.”

“That’s very kind, thank you.” She snuffs cracking a smile, her eyes twinkle from happiness and gratitude towards the boy.

“It’ll be enough for until the end of the semester, then I’ll return, make sure you stay on top of work and studies.”

“Wait…you’re coming back? I thought it was the whole year?”

“Shortened it, I don’t think you’ve noticed but it’s extremely lonely.” His sarcasm compliments his ‘duh’ expression.

“Honestly, I’ve been having the time of my life. Spectacular food, parties, can’t even feel the solitude.” The two giggled. Knowing they’d missed one another’s presence and voices, warm gazes sent to the other through the fluorescent screen. Both sitting in silence as the other virtually accompanied them, the sounds of the clock ticking and unexpected raindrops landing upon the window were the only sounds heard. Flashing silly faces at each other, the two ended in a fit of laughter during their battle,

“You shall never beat me y/n! I am always the winner!” He dramatically poses, mimicking a victory action.

“Never? You’re wrong. Truly so, so very wrong.” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow at her, intrigued by the comment.

“Why may that be?” He questions.

“Because,” she cheekily states. Standing her phone on the coffee table against a small glass decor, settling on her knees. Unbuttoning her top enough to reveal cleavage, smirking at her own actions, “I never lose with these, you give in so quick to me baby.” She innocently bats her lashes. He licks his lips while she continues to unbutton her shirt, her breasts exposed yet covered with her lace bra worn underneath,

“I don’t think this is the best time, y/n.” He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, swallowing his saliva from the desire building up.

“Awe, why?” She pouts.

“My roommate, he’ll be back in an hour-” restless eyes flickering to the time on his watch.

“You’ve done me faster,” A bold, mischevious interjection said as her shirt pools on the ground, bra hook unclipped and straps slide down her arms, throwing the undergarment elsewhere. “Please Mr.Jung.” Putting on a show of her exposed breasts on screen. Flaunting them with a little bounce and a little shake, “I’ll be so good.”

Breath hitching in his throat, choking out a fuck it. The sounds of the door locking and his belt unbuckling heard off screen. Sitting back in his seat, he positions his phone on the desk, backing up to have his body in full view,

“I can’t believe you actually affect me this much.” Pulling out his semi-hard cock, pumping the length in an attempt to fully erect. “Baby girl, please you got to cum for sir and make him cum too, okay?”

“Yes, Mr.Jung.” Now positioned on the couch, bottoms off and legs split open in view of the camera, she begins to rub her clit and finger herself. Self-teasing with one finger, with such unexpected pleasure without being touched by Jaehyun for weeks. Her clit erogenous, shivers racing up and down her spine, soft moans of Jaehyun’s name left her mouth, and her’s from his. The two lasted for a while until y/n halts her erotic actions.

“What’s wrong?” he pants, hesitantly slowing down his movements on his cock as she disappears from the screen, silently groaning as the familiar knot fades. Shuffling noises heard in the background until she returns to her previous spot, this time with a hidden item, “Baby girl, what are you up to?”

“I really miss your cock, Mr.Jung, and I really want it, but I can’t…” Picking up her phone, fixating it upon the counter she grabs a nearby chair, “you can punish me later but I really need it.” Sticking a purple dildo on the chair, she gave him a roguish smile - Jaehyun and her never used the dildo much, not unless he wanted to tease her or make her work for her orgasm. In other words, punish her mostly for his own amusement. Although she never touched it, unless an order was given.- her legs centre the dildo to her entrance as Jaehyun breathes out,

“Naughty bitch, I’m going to fuck you senseless when I come back.”

“Please do.” She begs, almost whining.

“That’s a promise.” He says grunting, watching her lower down upon the toy feeling her walls stretch and accidental whimpers release. Speeding up the pace on his length at the sight of his girlfriend pleasuring herself. Moaning out for him, how desperate she really was for him. He whispers her name but loud enough to be heard through the call. Her walls clench around the toy - just like she did with Jaehyun, his moans erupting from his throat every time. - chanting profanities like a prayer, the two came near their highs, Jaehyun being the first to climax. Strings of his cum landing on top his shirt and pants, ruining the two articles of clothing.“Fuck baby girl, you made me ruin my clothes.”

“Mmm.” She lets out a high pitch whine. “S-sorry Mr.Jung.” As she races to find her climax.“Remember the first time, baby girl…” Jaehyun talks through cleaning himself up, simultaneously changing into his pyjamas, preparing for whenever his roommate knocks to be let in and avoiding the thoughts to ravish his girlfriend, controlling his once again developing hard-on. “The first time you came so hard, you squirt on me. Right on your bedroom floor and we had to buy a new rug. That was so sexy, cum like that once more for me.” Her moans a higher pitch from every word he spoke, the familiar twist in her stomach formed. Sweat glistened on her forehead and wet, pornographic sounds of her sliding down the cheap dildo, “Remember all those times I stayed over until the morning and woke you up with my tongue?”

“Yes, yes…” she pant.

“The days we’d both be pissed at our professors or bosses and you’d let me push you against the wall to throat fuck you.”

“Those were really fucking hot…” her head thrown back and fingers rubbing her clit in an eager attempt to release.

“And that one time against your balcony doors, on my birthday. How they’re glass and in clear sight of anyone passing by to-“

“FUCK, YES OH GOD.” She lets out a scream as ecstasy devours her. Thighs trembling from the hard orgasm,  “I remember…” lowering her voice as she calms down. “I remember when we fucked against those doors,” her untidy, sweaty, post-sex appearance covered with a suggestive smirk on her face could bring Jaehyun an instant boner again. He did, usually, it did, but he’d have to control himself now. “That was really the hottest fuck we ever had, and we are doing it all over again when you’re back.” She says with more stable breaths.“Of course-“

Knock, knock!  The sound of the doors alerted Jaehyun,

“I’ll be there one second!” He gave his girlfriend a loving and apologetic smile, “Clean yourself up baby girl, I’m sorry we can’t do round two, but I swear, you will get such a better fuck when I’m back.”

“I’m waiting.” She winked, blowing him a farewell kiss.

And with that, the call ends and y/n makes the utmost effort to clean herself up. Despite her weak legs and heavy eye-lids, her mood was completely different. Definitely still with stress but, a relaxed feeling from the masturbation and her boyfriend.

Anon Asked: Hiii!! love ur work!!! can you pls write a phone call smut with jaehyun (non-idol AU) where you’re really stressed and tired about school or something and you miss him while hes away for smthn and then u call him crying and he talks u down and gets u all loose if u know what i mean lol !! pls and thanks 💕

[gg-astrology]

Hi could I have your input on a capricorn sun/Scorpio moon!? 💗💗💗💗 thank u

Hey there!! 💕💕 Thanks for asking okie i’ll do my best! 💕

[Below Cut: Capricorn Sun - Scorpio Moon 😈]

Sneeaaaky and mischievous, these people are understated until they’re not 

The thing that makes them sneaky is because they have this calmness about them outside, people expect them to be grounded and serene. And for the most part they are

Until they’re NOT--- these people are rather mischievous, has an inner-depth of emotionality to them that can be tumultuous, they’ll need an outlet and that outlet is usually in surprising others with what they can do/be unexpectedly 

(Can become an active debater, or someone who thrives on chemistry/dynamic and quarrels with those they are close to. Batting things back and forth and not keeping their principles/thoughts/opinions inside is like letting that Scorpio water (emotionality) flow out.

Especially in academic settings/something they have a ground on. They thrive on being challenged, but having autonomy over their own vision/creativity. They may work best when there’s a ‘system’ where they could work within, but show off their individuality inside of that/be admired for it) 

They thrive off of having this persona, this ‘expectations’ for themselves to be something and then doing something that surprises others. They thrive on showing off their dimensionally, keeping people on their toes and not ‘assuming’ stuff about them-- because they’re the one who’s in control here

On the other hand, these people are extremely caring and devoted friends to people. Rather private as well, they don’t like to go on blast about other people’s problem or their involvement with situation. Would rather keep their communication private, and add in bits/pieces that would help others (in public) like their lil secret between them

They’re rather bold, and I think that shows a lot of the time. No matter how cunning you think they are, their best trait is in their sneaky adaptability and smooth transition (from planning to execution)-- they’re highly intuitive. So they know what’s ‘natural’ for them to ‘slide’ into being (this is to do with the ‘unexpected’ charisma they have)

They’re hard workers, some might even call them ‘suave’ -- they’re the embodiment of smoldering charm, yet they don’t turn attention to themselves

I actually don’t know how self-aware these people are??? I think they’re intuitive, and ‘get’ things when it comes to them. But sometimes their scope of awareness can be narrow, so often-- they might find themselves facing a lil nervousness/paranoia when it comes to other people’s expectations on them 

(like a crush or something,  if someone has a crush on them then they’re like ‘aha’ but also ‘wait wait what if its not?? what proof do i have??’ and then they start making themselves mad bc they have to be as thoroughly investigative about it as possible and tries to be ‘pragmatic’ about it sdkjfnsn drives themselves crAZY)

They can be oblivious, I don’t think they realize this but they’re rather obtuse compared to their water sign friends or other water sign counterparts. These people have immense power in their own manifestation, yet realizing other’s reception (being receptive to others) is like a brick wall with them

The type of person who can go ‘ok! lets do it’ when they have something to focus on, but be completely blinded by people’s admiration/attraction to them whilst doing so.

You know the thing about Capricorn wanting recognition and ambition? With these people, it’s more about the emotional gratification of getting to pursue what you wanna put your energy into. They get their high from that, instead of the ‘recognition’ part (because they recognize themselves and their own hard-work-- which is why if they don’t feel like they’ve put 100% of their energy and challenge into something, they can be highly critical of their work and how it’s perceived by others instead)

I guess these people are kind of self-reliant?? They don’t need much, just want to feel a Good Grind before going back home to soak their feet and relax a lil before sleep. Which may-- however, isolate them from others and make them unintentionally unavailable a lot of the time

They might not have the energy level to ‘make’ themselves be social, or go to social events because they put it all into focusing on something else. Multi-tasking their energy or managing it is hard, mostly because while they might love their friends-- they may have a hard time ‘keeping up’ with them or staying connected if they’re busy doing something else

(oh boy but they do love drama, especially their friends drama or love life. They wanna be updated/hear things, but they’re not like--- bothered by too much or badger for them to tell them if they’re uncomfortable with it. These people just want to look out/care for their friends, look towards their best interests if their friends aren’t doing so. They just wanna ‘check in and make sure you’re ok’ --- soulful eyes when they do that)

Capricorn/Scorpio may have a group of friends they feel strongly and proudly to be in. Although they don’t socialize much, they value and feel appreciative of these people for sticking through with them (and each having their own charisma, individuality, personality that the respect and play off one another-- dynamically interesting group of friends)

They’re proud of their friends, and can be a lil possessive over them because these people don’t know how to open up to others (who kind of ’shifts’ the stability they already has) --- although Capricorn/Scorpio are devoted, they need time and their own evaluation of the ‘new person’ to be first before the group collective

(like, if they think this new person is bad for the group and they may (guiltily) tell others that, they want the their group to put them first, put their warning first and listen to them. Even if it seems unreasonable, they want them to trust and rely on their intuition/years of foundation in the friend-group and prove their own devotion back to them/not orchestrade them.)

These people are often straight-forward, blunt and perceptive. They look out for other people, yet at the same time the group has to be able to handle their sense of humour (which may be darker, sarcastic/snarky) they also like to have the last punch-line. They want to be the best at that, at 1) making the group laugh 2) feeling proud of being in the group and 3) proving their worth socially to others

It’s because they are intuitively knowledgeable of their own capabilities that seeing it manifest socially may be the most challenging thing to them. They don’t really know how to compromise or work well with others without each of them having their own individuality (strong personalities) 

So for softer people, they may be intimidated by this Capricorn/Scorpio persona. But rest-assured, as they grow older and wiser. 

The Capricorn/Scorpio learns through experience how to have more tact and subtle control, they become less hot-headed (although they may still be a Fool sometimes) and they generally learn pretty fast from their mistakes/experiences.

I feel like these people would try to be goth, or appeal to those kind of aesthetic because of their need to ‘belong’ somewhere and assert their dominance in the area. They might unintentionally ‘box’ themselves into a trope, in order to be ‘different/edgy’ from others. 

However, make sure that you realize that not everything is pessimistic. Like how you try to be multi-dimensional for others, do that for yourself too. Believe in your multi-dimensionality, and try to expand your scope of vision to be broader, more colourful and less ‘black or white’ like the spectrum you like to put yourself on.

By learning how to spread, instead of narrow, you can achieve many great things in life. And really-- since you’re so good at learning from your mistakes-- recognizing mistakes faster than you normally do might help you.

I hope this is good for you!

[milesofkeeffe]

Hi! Can you do a no. 12 kiliel middle earth? Thank you 😉

This fic got a little out-of-hand because I had a great idea, but the scene needed some set-up. :) Here you are and Merry Christmas!

Read on AO3: Kisses Like Wine

On the twenty-eighth day of their captivity in Mirkwood, when Bilbo appeared like magic with a wink and the key to his cell, Kíli was elated.

An extended stay in prison was not at all something Kíli had envisioned as part of their heroic quest. The experience had been all the more frustrating since they were now close enough to the Mountain that even Kíli, who had never been to Erebor in his life, could feel its nearness through the soles of his feet. Oh, it was time and past time that they were on their way again.

Still, as he followed Bilbo to the cells of his companions, Kíli could not suppress a feeling of regret nearly as strong as his excitement. Leaving meant not seeing her again, not for a long while, at least.

What had begun as a lighthearted flirtation meant to pass the time of his monotonous captivity had led to feelings of unexpected (and slightly alarming, if he considered what his uncle would say) fondness for the red-haired elf captain with her sweet eyes and even sweeter laugh. And though Tauriel’s feelings were sometimes a challenge to guess thanks to her reserved elvish manners, he had reason to believe she felt an answering warmth for him. She visited him more often than her duties possibly could have required, and lately, there had been that soft, eager smile on her face each time he moved to the door to greet her.

Kíli certainly did not mean his time in Mirkwood to be the last he ever saw of Tauriel. After Thorin’s victorious homecoming, there would eventually be need of alliances, and as a prince, Kíli would make an ideal ambassador to the Woodland Realm. But the time for such negotiations was surely months, if not years, away. He wished he could at least tell Tauriel goodbye for now.

After Bilbo had locked the empty cell behind the last dwarf, he led them all away from the prisons and deeper into the Elvenking’s palace itself. This was an odd escape route, Kíli mused. He’d not have thought going further in would be the way out, but surely Bilbo had learned the layout of the palace well in the month they’d all been here.

Yet as they passed a door that led to what appeared to be a larder, Kíli began to wonder if even their canny burglar had lost his way. And this room they were entering now was some sort of wine cellar. Bottles and casks of wine, mead, cider, and spirits were stacked floor to ceiling.

Kíli was just drawing a breath to ask their hobbit, who was only a pace or two ahead of him, why they’d come here when they rounded a wine rack and he found himself facing three elves seated round a table.

“Dammit, not—” Kíli got out before Bilbo turned and clapped a hand on his dwarven friend’s mouth. The hobbit gave an expressive stare and a shake of the head.

Glancing back to the elves, Kíli now saw that they were all asleep, two of them propped in their high-backed chairs, and the third slumped forward over the table, which was littered with empty bottles and half-drained flagons. Ah. Asleep and inebriated it seemed. Kíli nearly laughed aloud in his surprise and relief. So elves really could get drunk, thank Mahal.

The hobbit beckoned him on, and Kíli crept forward as silently as he could in his heavy boots. He wasn’t taking any chances on keen elvish senses, even if the elves in question were well and truly sauced. Still he couldn’t help sneaking one last amused look as he passed the table, and then he froze so that Óin nearly tripped over him.

He couldn’t see the face of the elf with her head resting on the table, but he recognized that fiery hair spilling over her shoulders. Tauriel?

“Move on, laddie,” Óin whispered loudly.

Wrenching his eyes from Tauriel’s lovely figure, Kíli followed Bilbo down a short stair into a lower cellar. Down here was a row of empty barrels and as more dwarves arrived, Bilbo began gesturing for them to get inside. Kíli lingered at the back of the room near the stairs, only half paying attention to the growing incredulity with which Bilbo’s instructions were met by the rest of the Company.

He tried to tell himself it was unreasonable to be disappointed that he hadn’t been able to do more than steal a quick last glance at Tauriel’s back. Of course he didn’t want to jeopardize their escape by lingering. And what sort of goodbye was it if she didn’t know he’d even been there? But he would have liked one more moment for… Well, he wasn’t sure.

“I’m not a pickled herring ’n’ you can’t treat me like one!” Glóin’s growl cut through Kili’s thoughts.

“Oh, for the love of—” Thorin muttered at Kíli’s side, and then the young dwarf felt a hand on his shoulder. “Kíli, go to the top of the stair while I handle this. If any of those elves so much as twitches an ear, you come back and warn us.”

“Aye, Uncle,” he returned, his annoyance of a moment before instantly melting at his sudden good luck.

Kíli found the elves just as he’d left them. To his relief, the barely hushed argument taking place below them did not carry up here; the swish of the river (which must flow just below the lower cellar) was all he could hear.

After a half minute, Kíli crept forward a few steps and then a few more. He would go just far enough look in her face…

Yet somehow between the angle of the wine rack and the position of her chair, he was within three paces of her before he could see past her shoulder. And then he found that, by some strange perversity, a wave of her hair had slipped down and obscured all but the tip of her nose and the corner of her mouth.

Breath held, Kíli slipped his fingers beneath that coppery curtain and ever so gently eased it back from her face. As he tucked it behind her shoulder, she stirred just barely and gave a soft hum.

Kíli froze, his heart thudding loud in his ears. Maker, please, don’t let her—

Tauriel’s lashes lifted and her green eyes met his own.

His stomach dropped. Thorin was going to murder him.

The elf watched him over the pillow of her arm. “Kíli?” she murmured at last, her voice lower, more husky than he’d ever heard it.

“I—” He gulped a breath. “I came to tell you goodbye.” He might as well say it, since there was no secret to be kept now that he’d betrayed everything. What had he been thinking, trying to see her?

“Goodbye?” Her auburn brows narrowed, and she lifted her head at last. “Where are you going?”

She stared, her expression clearly perplexed and even—dare he say it?—a little disappointed.

“Where? Um…” His mind raced as fast as his heart. She hadn’t asked what he was doing here. She hadn’t leapt up to seize him and take him back to his cell. Could it be she was dreaming?

“Nowhere,” he finished softly. He must not wake the other elves. They would be sure to recognize him as an escaped prisoner, even if she did not. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Just… Good night, Tauriel.” It was such an intimate phrase, one he hoped he might get to say again to her one day.

“Kíli, wait.” Tauriel caught him as he stepped back from her. “Don’t. I—” She faltered, lips parted over words she could not find. Her high cheeks, already flushed from drink, colored more deeply, and her rich emerald eyes were fixed earnestly on his.

Oh, it was not fair of her to be so lovely; not fair because her beauty was like an arrow through the heart, leaving Kíli empty, broken with need for her; not fair because how could he help falling in love with her; not fair because he was only a dwarf and could never hope to inspire half—

Tauriel’s hands moved to his collar. “Kiss me,” she whispered, that low, rough note returning to her voice, and Kíli knew this was a plea, not an order.

Her mouth was sweet with wine, and she gave herself in long, full drafts as heady as any true vintage. Her eager hands clung in his shirt, his hair, and her hair fell down against him. He could smell the faint, woodsy spice of it as it brushed his face. Somehow, his arms found their way around her; his palms pressed against the warm brushed suede of her bodice while his fingers tangled in more of her silken locks.

When they broke off, Tauriel remained leaning against him. Her eyes had drifted closed once more and there was a sleepy smile on her lips.

“This is the nicest dream I’ve ever had,” Kíli murmured against her ear.

“Mmm…is it a dream?”

“Yes. You’re asleep now, see?” As thrilled as he was by her kiss, he was deeply relieved to find her drifting back into slumber. He knew how dangerously close he was to disaster, even now.

She nestled closer against his shoulder. “Kíli…”

“Good night, amrâlimê,” he said. He thought Tauriel smiled.

He waited a few more moments for her breathing to return to a slow, easy rhythm. Then he eased her back onto the table top. Thank Mahal and all the Valar that that elvish wine was strong, he thought as he shifted a flagon to make a space for her to lie without cramping her neck. If she had been any more sober just now— Well, she would not have kissed him, for one thing. He grinned, remembering the taste of her lips. Would she recall any of this tomorrow? Oh, he hoped so.

Kíli turned and then nearly rattled the table as he jumped in surprise. There was the hobbit standing right at his elbow.

“Hers,” Bilbo mouthed, holding aloft a ring of keys, which he then slipped onto Tauriel’s belt loop where Kíli had seen it before. The young dwarf hoped she would not be reprimanded too severely when her prisoners were all discovered missing the next morn.

As Kíli followed Bilbo down the stairs, he ventured, “How much of that did you see just now?”

“Oh, quite enough.” Bilbo’s anxious expression warmed to a boyish grin that was pleased and perhaps ever-so-slightly conspiratorial. “I’ve seen quite enough of you both, indeed.”

[ratmor]

Fairytale Lies Along (OUaT fanfiction SQ)

Autor's Note [ I've been told That's actually a Very Heterosexual Way to Write SwanQueen, the Slowpoke Way, the way I live. That's what my girl told me and I can't disagree so I hope you'd like what comes next... No you wouldn't]

3. RASPBERRY

“I found my real mom!”

The boy screamed, twisting out of the arms of a beautiful dark-haired woman with tears in her eyes, and then the boy tried to rush past the sheriff into the house.

“Stop!”

Emma was fast to react, and I grumbled with contentment something like "idiots need to insert their brains back into their skulls only after the shit they did."

Not only the mother of the boy and the Sheriff, who was looming at the door like an uncertain shadow, were surprised at this roar, but Emma herself. The boy turned and walked in the opposite direction from the door, back to Emma.

“What’s happening?” - his mother asked my ward.

The Mayor wore a power suit or dress or whatever they call it, and the expression on her face was identified by me as something that was characteristic of my wife when she tried not to hit me for that special kind of stupidity, which I showed her completely involuntarily sometimes. Well, it seems that all women with certain powers have this expression in active use.

“Yes, Emma?”

The boy asked, but we were in no hurry to answer, looking at the woman standing opposite, and as soon as one of the eyebrows of the mayor of this town crawled up, Emma shifted her gaze to too insubordinate son.

“Are you all good with memory, kid?” - Emma asked him gently, folding her arms over her chest and raising her eyebrows. - “Less than ten minutes ago, I told you what? Can you repeat? Start with the word "she", please.”

“She is not evil …” - the boy mumbled and looked up, waiting for something.

“Further,” - Emma encouraged him, although those who were looking at the boy at that moment would hardly believe that she was encouraging. - “What did I say next?”

“She is the person who became my family, when you were the very first evil in my life!”

The boy sighed sharply and his face twisted sadly, but he still didn’t cry.

The mayor and, concurrently the dear mother of this blockhead gasped and reached out to embrace her cub. He no longer resisted, although I bet that for some reason he was offended by his mother. Most likely, the thing was precisely that they were making him look crazy because of these fairy tales, and his mother was the initiator of the shrink campaigns. As for me, as long as he does not rush out of the windows, let him believe what he wants, even if it is flying spaghetti.

“It's cruel!” - Henry squeaked, hugging his mother. And he really understood why he was forced to say it, and it was precisely because he understood that, the original goal pursued by Emma failed. He did not cease to reach to us, not physically, but emotionally, he didn't stop it. - “Why do you hate yourself so much?”

“Oh, Good God ...” - Emma rolled her eyes, and I’ve decided to remind her about the cake, so Emma only nodded her head in agreement and turned her face to the boy. - “Go, better take what you left in the car.”

Henry nodded grimly and dashed towards our Beetle full speed - his mother's hands only shrank in the air when she realized that she no longer hugs the little boy by the shoulders. She looked at Emma and smiled, though not really using her eyes in that smile.

“She really is, like a son, good at pretending. From tears to a smile - and that's instantly. The best, isn’t she?” - I drawled, even without expectations on any response from Emma, because she probably already made such a conclusion, but she nevertheless expressed herself.

“And she definitely loves apples. Seriously?” - Emma awkwardly sniffed. - “I smell Montale, Sunset Flowers? Perfume with apple flavor? Well, at least we have the same brand of perfume, and that’s a start! And I thought I’d smell something more… complicated.”

“I suggest you try the best apple cider in your life.” - Mayor said in an absolutely urgent tone, and I was again convinced that powerful women in all worlds are equally peremptory.

“I told you,” - it is not quite clear for me why Emma cheered inside herself to such an extent that she even sincerely smiled at the adoptive mother of her biological son in response and added. - “She is just an incredible fan of damn apples!”

“Well, yes, but if they are not rejuvenating, then what's the point …” - I wondered and Emma snorted at it, continuing to communicate with this apple-lady in the real world.

“Thank you,” - Emma smiled, as if she was high, while looking into the eyes of this woman, - “Henry’s bringing a cake. It’s delicious.”

“Cake?” - the sheriff asked in surprise, already getting closer to the mayor. - “In honor of what event exactly?”

“And what, the day, or rather the night, in which I was lucky to meet my biological son, whom I gave up for adoption a decade ago, is not enough for you as an excuse?” - snapped Emma but then she blurred slightly, meeting the woman’s skeptical gaze, and waved her hand at her face in a denying gesture. - “Okay, okay, it's just my birthday today. Henry rang the doorbell in the midst of my ... ahem ... celebrations, so to speak. I suggested that neither you nor I would want to end the conversation so ambiguously, and I simply wanted to offer to discuss what happened. Nevertheless, I would like to be sure that this will not happen again when I leave. I have a home, a job and a relationship in Boston. What happened today was a little unexpected, you know... By the way, I fed the kid tuna sandwiches with orange juice, no worries here?”

Emma couldn’t say out loud what she told me after her little speech.

“And it would be good for my well being to clarify how exactly Henry was treated in this family, and whether it is necessary to save him from his environment. Anything might happen in this world - even the most pleasant people turn out to be maniacs…”

“She is, according to you, the pleasant?” - I was surprised. - “Rather, she is that kind of strict mommy, controlling everything and everyone …”

“In my opinion, she is fully in line with her position,” - Emma slightly closed her eyes and looked at Henry, dragging the cake and smiling slyly at something. The ice in the eyes of the Mayor somehow melted. - “And you see that she loves him.”

“Sheriff?” - Henry’s mother addressed to the guy in an extremely hinting tone.

“And yes, I will go, I still have night duty, yes, ” - he scratched his head and hurried to close the gate on the other side, finally looking at Emma with a strange expression on his face, but without saying anything.

“Hmm,” - Emma cleared her throat, drawing the attention of both Henry and this woman. - “My name is Emma Swan. Nice to meet you.”

“I am Regina Mills. Mayor of this town. I won’t pretend it was that nice.”

“Oh, her malice erupted, it is as funny as I thought that would be!”

Emma did not restrain a grin, my comment caused, and looked with kindness I never expected, in our new acquaintance’s eyes, but the prickly look was difficult to bear, and she decided to distract this negative attention from herself.

“Henry, would you be able to eat the cake? Still, it’s night already, and you’ve eaten sandwiches.”

“Of course I would, Emma!” - the boy sound surprised. - “I carried it after all!”

Emma slyly turned this around - now the prickly look was on Henry, though that eyes fairly lost its’ intensity.

“Mom, please!” - he could not resist. - “It smells great! And I'm very tired of looking for Emma in Boston, Mom!”

“Indeed!” - failed not to chuckle Emma, and it was funny, because the kid still carried out her request to sit for a slice of cake with a member of his family. She took the cake from the boy's hands in order to immediately put her nose in the cardboard box in which this work of culinary art was located. - There is a special magic of friendliness and forgiveness in the cakes. And yes, it’s raspberry. Do you like raspberries, Madam Mayor?”

“Magic?” - Regina's eyes widened, and I suddenly realized that she had shaken unreasonably at the word, but then she stopped short and answered the question. - “Please, enter the house, miss Swan. I don’t mind raspberry.”

[saralaurensmagalona]

The Embassy  A Thorki Fanfiction by Magalona

Loki knew that moment would come. Almost all his life, he knew that, one of these days, he would be confronted to his own blood. It couldn't be otherwise. They were too set against one another... If only he had had a little more time...

They looked both like rabid dogs, only with more constraint. They knew that if Thor's warrior bodyguards suspected any aggression towards their master's new paramour, they would immediately take action. They were giving them tiny infuriated peeks, hoping they would get the message and get lost. Helblindi and Býleistr had momentarily forgotten that they were not in their own palace and that they would not be attended to all their little whims in this place... When they realized the bodyguards were not to leave, they looked uglier in their growing, powerless rage. “Don't think this is over...” Helblindi growled. “You have ruined everything and now you will face the consequences.” “I have ruined nothing, brother.” Loki hoped his voice wasn't too trembling. He had to remain perfectly serene. “The plan goes as it is. I have the Crown Prince's favor and...” “His FAVOR ?!” Býleistr shrieked and then lowered his voice from fear of being spotted. “What use is his favor to us, damn it ?! You were supposed to ...” He stopped. “To what ?” Loki coldly asked. “To seduce him, sleep with him and then scream rape so that our parents could impose their conditions to the treaty ?” “Exactly !” Helblindi snarled. “You were supposed to be a good little bitch and nothing more ! And now, we are set with a big load of NOTHING ! Just because you refused to do our duty to us like some stupid slut ! Open your legs and shut your damn trap, is that so difficult for you to understand ?!” Loki heavily breathed. This was the last straw. Had they been a little more patient and a little more calm, Loki would have still believed them. He would have still forgiven them. He wanted to believe, he wanted to forgive. He still wanted to think that he always had a family after all, that they cared for him deep inside... That all of this was Asgard's fault. That they were acting like this because of their fear of the Aesir. They wanted out of this war and they were desperate. They were not doing this to him because they didn't love him but only because they were scared for their homeland.

Their attitude indeed reflected fear. But only for themselves. Not even for their parents or Jötunheim. They wanted to save their sorry asses because Frost Giants were not holding the stronger hand in this game any more... Nothing more, nothing less.

What Helblindi really wanted was to secure his position as future Jötnar King. And Býleistr probably wanted the same because he knew Helblindi had no brains and would be permanently dependent on him. Meaning HE would be the real King behind the curtains. Until Helblindi probably got himself killed (with a little help...) and the throne would be Býleistr's. This was more than a simple theory to Loki.

All this time he had hoped but hearing how little they cared, that hope was gone. And Loki was left with nothing but anger and emptiness.

“Charming, brothers...” Loki said, with a voice he barely recognized as his own. “I didn't know you only saw me as a 'bitch' or a 'slut' or other delicate nouns you use to refer to me... I didn't know that my sole purpose in life was to 'open my legs' and 'shut my trap'... Thank you for the enlightenment...” The two Jötun took a step back, looking dumbfounded, taken aback. The wretched crippled runt dared to talk this way ? Unbelievable ! Loki never discussed anything, never raised his voice, never stood up to anything. This was new. Unexpected and unacceptable. Helblindi lost his temper first. Again, he was the hot-bloodied one. Things went very fast. He raised his fist in an obvious attempt to strike his insolent younger brother. Býleistr tried to prevent him, not out of brotherly affection (he had none, not even for Helblindi), but for fear they would create a scandal. The Einherjar bodyguards, being no fools, were already drawing their swords and Loki was about to throw a dangerous explosive spell when a voice cut through all the mess.

“What is happening here ?!”

All stopped, frozen in their tracks. It was Frigga. Her son was standing next to her and she had to grab his wrist. Thor was about to let Mjölnir speak its brutal, universal language. Once again, Frigga had to be mother, queen, headmistress, diplomat, coach, and soldier all at once. Sometimes, she wished her son would marry so that she could retire. And sometimes, she knew he was capable to choose someone as childish and vain as he was and it would be a catastrophe...

“Your Highnesses, you are supposed to join the All-Father in the Realm Gathering. Not to fuss around the halls like children !” This was pure diplomatic hypocrisy. All of them were about to go at each other's throat, even Frigga was barely containing her mouth-frothing son, and she was keeping a playful tone, as if scolding unreasonable children. When in fact, everyone knew she meant : “ Everyone is going to go their own way and forget the incident. If not, consequences will be dire.” And if Odin was the most powerful male being in the whole universe, Frigga always made sure she was known as the most powerful female. She never let the Frost Giants forget that she had a considerable amount of their own passed through her sword in her days as shield-maiden and Valkyrie. Those two, with all their machismo and bravado, knew it. Býleistr made his best obsequious smile. Loki had seen it many times without thinking more about it. Now, it just made him want to vomit. “We are on our way, Almighty All-Mother.” And he curtsied. And what he meant was : “We're going so stop fretting, you meddling old cow.” Not something you say to the queen, in front of her thunderous son. They went both their ways to the Great Hall. It could have ended like this, but Helblindi, being Helblindi, couldn't let it go this way... He made a threatening glare to Loki who was careful not to let anything be seen on his face. It was discreet enough but Thor didn't miss it. He did a silly gesture of male dominance. A long time later, Loki would be still mad at all this display of testosterone at his expenses.

Thor grabbed Loki by the waist and literally snogged him the most indecent way possible, making Loki bend backwards.

Loki wanted to pull him away and slap him but deep inside his seething anger, he knew Thor was trying to do the right thing. He was actually protecting Loki. What made Loki mad was that the one that was saving him from his family's selfishness was the very one that terrorized him not so long ago. That it was this very mouth that had insulted his brothers on the battleground, calling his kinsmen “cowards,” “monsters” and “brutes” that was now plunging into his own, making him open his lips against his own will and was forcibly exploring it. That those hands burning on Loki's waist held the hammer of death that destroyed those of Loki's race.

And to Loki's shame, he was almost glad for it.

Only Frigga's furious voice made them break the spell and go back to their senses. But Thor had made his point. Any gesture against what was to be considered as his would be fatal. Loki owed him now. He owed the creature he feared most than his own terrible family. Curiously, he both liked and disliked it.

****

The rest of the day was really busy and Thor and Loki had barely a second to be alone. In fact, it was better this way because Loki was in a massive rage against Thor, not knowing if he had to strangle him or kiss him... Loki was still afraid of him, his eyes that had been lit with a crazy fire that day, his hands that were tainted, that monstrous thing he kept carrying around... And in the same time, he knew he owed his life to him. There was no mistake that his brothers went from simply discarding Loki's existence to wishing for his death. Loki was conscious he would be now fighting for survival. And without Thor's help, it would be far more difficult.

At the end of day, there was the customary banquet. It was starting to wear Loki down, all these futile ceremonials. Being sat next to Thor and having his hand inside of Thor's large grip was tearing him between the need to hold on it for dear life and rejecting it with disgust. It was exhausting. Luckily there would be no ball afterwards and Loki would have a chance for privacy and calm. But what of tomorrow ? The treaty was to be signed and the Embassy was to leave the same day. What would happen then ? Would they let him back to Jötunheim like this ? Or would they likely execute him for treachery and bury his body in the Icy Moors where no one would find him ever ? Loki felt the cold sweat dripping down his back and unconsciously pressed Thor's hand, the only warm, reassuring thing in his life right now.

The feast went on. Loki heard a huge barking laugh. Helblindi. Drunk already. He was waving his cup as if it was a flag of victory and making silly jokes to embarrass the servants and nobles that were sitting next to him. Loki noticed that Býleistr was not making any move to remind him to behave, as he usually did. He was actually indulgently smiling, as if Helblindi was a big kid, goofing around... That was particularly unusual. They both looked fairly at ease... In control in a way. That was when Loki knew they were up to something.

By the end of the feast, everyone was expecting Odin to say the closing speech, wishing all good night and see you tomorrow, as he was supposed to do. When Býleistr stood up in the middle of the room, demanding attention. Loki felt his heart stop. Now was the time he would know of his fate. Of this he was sure.

“Almighty All-Father...” Býleistr started embracing the whole room in a display of pretended respect. “ On the behalf of my noble brothers, my royal parents and our beloved country, let me say our deepest gratitude and respect for the many kindnesses you had offered us. We want to publicly proclaim our delight and great relief for the peace that is about to settle down between our realms....” Býleistr was exasperatingly appreciative. He was making a show and Loki knew no one believed it. Yet all had to play the part... “... And to make sure this peace will be an everlasting one, a crow came today from my royal father. It brought amazing news of wealth and prosperity for both our countries and will ensure our long going fraternity for centuries to come !” Býleistr made a theatrical move of his cape. Loki wanted to rip his head off. “My noble father has learned of the Mighty Thor's sentiments towards his younger son, the delight of his realm, and has agreed to give his hand to the powerful God of Thunder ! May they be blessed with many healthy children !” Having dropped the bomb, Býleistr raised a golden goblet of wine as a mockery of a toast to Loki and Thor, turned into stones.

****

The rest went in a fast forward and confused blur. People had made quite a ruckus but Odin kept them still. The All-Father had gone all red and his wife had palled as much. Loki thought the walls were crushing on him and he didn't dare see the look on Thor's face. All he knew then was that Frigga dismissed the whole assembly, pretended to rejoice and reassembled the concerning parties in her private salon. Loki remembered he had been almost dragged to it by Thor who was holding him up...

Once Odin, Frigga, Thor, Loki and his brothers were on their own in the middle of Frigga's beautiful golden boudoir with its inner fountain and birds, the tension was palpable for this comfy room was supposedly made for the peace of mind. The presence of two scornful Frost Giants in it was completely out of place. Loki was back to his senses, hearing Odin's stern voice. “I want an explanation and I want it now.” Býleistr smiled, his attitude no longer deferent and obviously insolent. “My, All-Father. My King is accepting your offer for your son and heir to marry the flower of Jötunheim, of course ! There is nothing more to explain!” Odin clenched his teeth. “I made no offer of the sort !” Býleistr exploded laughing. “Of course, All-Father ! But your son provoked it with his outrageous behavior !” Thor jumped, teeth bared, but Frigga prevented him from causing another massacre. “He has made quite a show in defiling our precious little brother. As pure and innocent as he was, he had been probably thinking that pleasing the Heir of Asgard was a good thing to do... Except that the rules of our country are strict and that any royal showing off that he had had carnal knowledge of another royal, must marry said royal...” Loki was about to shout that there was no such laws but he wanted to hear it all out. “So, the only honorable thing to do is to make our little brother, the shiniest jewel of our beloved father's crown, his very own Royal Consort... and mother to his heirs.” Býleistr was barely containing his laugh. This was a last taunt. Being a male, it was impossible for Loki to give birth. “My father is ready to agree to any terms your Majesties would demand tomorrow. No one will make any objection... At the condition that Prince Thor and Prince Loki's marriage will be celebrated the same day !”

A long silence followed this piece of news. Odin gave a look at Frigga whose neutral face was impossible to read. And then came the answer Loki both feared and hoped. “So, be it.” Odin said. Loki closed his eyes. It was over. Thor wanted to protest but Frigga silenced him with another look. They were all proceeding to go. Loki stepped forward, stopping his brothers and looking at them right in the eye. “I wanted to thank you first, brothers, for I think we will have little time to talk on our own tomorrow. So I thank you now, for this amazing turning point in our lives...” His brothers were smirking, though not understanding the meaning of those last goodbyes. Loki was sparing his effect. They were thinking they had done a pretty trick on their bastard brother, on the Scourge, his mate, his offspring and his damn hellhole of a realm. Forcing on the prideful Thor a useless barren marriage with his worst foe's son and making the runt live a life of misery near that monster. What a good joke ! That would teach them a valuable lesson. “I will endeavor myself to be Asgard's best Royal Consort, under Queen Frigga's guidance... I will bring my knowledge as a sorcerer worthy of us and my new homeland.” Býleistr immediately stopped smiling. Helblindi looked at him then Loki, not sure he heard right. “For a start, I will bend my body and change my gender. Just long enough for me to bear the next Asgardian Heir. That child will be formidable having both Asgardian power and Jötunn's strength ! Not to mention my magic and Thor's might. The next Asgardian Royal will be the conqueror of all !”

Loki could laugh out loud at his brothers' shock and horror. They had totally forgotten it. Loki's powers. They have just sold their biggest asset to their worst enemies. Well, the biggest asset after the Casket of Ancient Winters that is... Except that Odin had laid his hands on it and it was now sealed in his damned vaults. Useless to Jötunheim. That was the reason of the forced treaty. The day Loki had seen Thor for the first time had been the day it had been stolen. And with Loki's gone, the Casket gone, their only sources of magical powers were also gone... And if Loki said the truth, if he was able to breed, thanks to that same magic... Býleistr didn't know if he had to laugh or cry, or scream...

To put it in a straightforward way, he had fucked up big time.

Loki took no little comfort seeing the maelstrom of conflicted emotions on his brothers' face. Býleistr then exploded with a terrifying laugh. It was both unnerving and thrilling. It didn't sound natural at all. “Well done, brother mine !” Býleistr exclaimed, calming down. “You have positively swindled us all ! Good luck with your new life, you'll need it if you are to be made a breeding mare.” He put a hand to Loki's shoulder. It felt like a cruel serpent on Loki's skin “Well, let me give you a first wedding present. Remember the two little runts you used to fool around with ?” Loki took a quick breath. Memories of Sigyn, Angrboda and him, playing chess in the snow garden with pawns made of ice assailed him. “Well, they've been disposed of the day they left. They didn't have your luck, being a royal bastard. No one was here to protect them. They were useless sluts since their births. So what was the point of letting them live ?” Sigyn trying a green silk dress Loki had made for her. Angrboda, crying with happiness on her birthday because Sigyn had given her her favorite gold bracelet. “I slashed their throats myself. Don't worry, it was quick and painless...” Sigyn's crystalline laugh. Angrboda's sarcastic smile...

The last thing Loki saw and heard before passing out were his own screams, Frigga's and Thor begging him not to kill those two miserable scums.

****

Loki woke up and recognized Thor's velvet canopy. Thor himself was standing near. He looked very worried. “You're up, Little One ? Are you all right ?” Loki tried to swallow down the tears that threatened to spill... He remembered everything in one second. All the blissful oblivion was gone. “Where are my brothers... My intended ?” Loki calmly asked. Loki had decided to be a proper spouse to Thor for many reasons. This marriage was not a bad idea after all. It gave him a certain amount of respect and freedom he had never known. Being of Aesir size, he would never be a runt in Asgard. People would fear him, as he was still a Jötunn, but being the Royal Consort of this country, they would be forced to give him proper respect. Once Thor would be on the throne, Loki would be second only to him. Particularly when he would turn female, get pregnant and deliver the Heir, making his position definitely secure. And then, he would plot his revenge on Jötunheim and his brothers, the swines. It would be slow and painful... To the bitter end. “They are gone to Father's Office Hall, beloved. They want to set the last details of the treaty made. After our... After the ceremony, tomorrow, they will leave and they will never bother you again...” Loki simply nodded. He had all the time in the world anyway. They would pay, whatever the cost. But not right now. Loki had a sad flash of Sigyn and Angrboda singing and laughing on their favorite sunny spot in the snow garden. He had to stifle a moan. He would not show any display of emotion in front of his future husband. He was intended to be the perfect consort and that implied not revealing any weaknesses. Thor sighed and took Loki's hands in his. “I am sorry, Little One.” Loki forced a calm smile and not to betray any jolt of disgust or unease at Thor's touch. “I don't understand how we got into this... I can't say I am unhappy having you at my side but...” Loki accentuated his smile. “There is nothing to worry about... My intended. I look forward to tomorrow.”

Hearing this, Thor raised his head to meet Loki's eyes and Loki's heart skipped a beat. He looked very angry. Loki couldn't see why. Wasn't he compliant and docile ? “Stop this.” Thor said, not very calm. “Stop this, right now.” “What ? My intended...” “I HAVE A NAME !” He yelled. “Why can't you say my name ? Do you hate me that much ? We are stuck in this, both of us, and we have to make the most of it. I know that and you know it too so why can't you simply trust me ? Why am I so repulsive to you ? Don't you dare thinking that I am so stupid I wouldn't notice how much you don't like me !” Had things been a little less hectic, Loki would have not lost his temper. But the day had been terrible since the beginning and Loki was exhausted. “Do you really have to ask ?” He sighed. “Do you know in what circumstances I saw you the first time ? Do you really want to know ?” Thor nodded firmly, though this question didn't bode well. “I saw YOU...” Loki hissed. “The day your armies invaded our palace ! I saw everything, Thunderer !” Thor looked at Loki, obviously at lost, trying to understand what Loki meant. “Oh, you are not stupid, THOR ?” Loki raged. “Well I am not either ! I saw you, or have you conveniently forgot what you did ?” “What in the name of the Norns are you talking about ?” Thor asked. “What am I talking about !?” Loki could have strangled him. “ With that damned hammer of yours, you BURNED an entire hall with Jötnar soldiers and civilians in it ! You burned them all to the crisp and then you LAUGHED about it ! You LAUGHED as if it was the funniest thing of all ! You were totally insane ! And I am now bound to a murdering MADMAN !”

Thor was mouthing the words “hammer,” “burn,” “hall”... Trying to make sense of it. Then, while Loki was biting his tongue in anger and self-disgust (he had simply and purely ruined his tiny chances with Thor), Thor's expression went from puzzlement to realization. “You... You saw that ?” Thor said, seemingly amazed. Loki nodded without speaking. He didn't dare to say more. He had done it too much already. “Oh, beloved...” Thor said it in a very sorry tone. “It wasn't me who destroyed that hall... And it wasn't my thunder, nor fire...” Loki was all hears, barely hoping for his answer. “YOUR kinsmen did. They used that weird blue box to stop me from entering... Except that they didn't seem very skillful with it and it simply exploded. It killed everything within its range and I was spared because I hid underneath the window... Later, I told Father about that weird box and we took it away. It seemed so dangerous, even for your people... I was laughing for the cruel irony of it. Certainly not because I was on a bloodbath ! It wasn't me, Little One I swear !”

Loki took a long time to realize what Thor was saying. It made sense. There was only one “weird blue box” that could “explode” and “kill everything within its range.” It was the Casket of Ancient Winters. It had to be. Loki has studied the Casket for his apprenticeship in magic and he had discovered that the device could be out of control and so, had to be handled carefully. But, of course, who would believe the royal cripple ? They had used it in an inappropriate manner, despite all his warnings, and that had provoked this horrible butchery. And finally, Thor's only crime had been to be there. Thor was a soldier and a soldier fights in battle, nothing else. Yes, it made sense. Or instead, it made none. This whole war was a farce. In the end, Loki was glad it was over and done with. Even if it was with a marriage with a complete stranger.

“I am sorry Thor, I didn't know...” Instead of overburdening Loki with guilt, Thor made the most joyous smile Loki saw on a face. Except his dear dead friends, no one smiled at him that much... Loki started to notice the waving blond hair, the blue eyes, the pearly teeth... He was already handsome when Loki thought him to be a psychopathic killer. He was even more when Loki discovered he was none of this. “Let's not talk about this, Little One. We should think about what to do next...” “What to do next ?” Thor smiled sadly. “You don't really want to marry me, right ? You want to be free, from your family, from your brothers, from me...” Loki thought quickly. “Thor, we cannot step away from this wedding. The peace depends on it now. Trying to snake our ways out of this would only deepen the conflict and start a new war.” Thor cast his eyes down. “But I don't want to be married with you for that... I don't want you to hate me for that. I only want your happiness.” “I am not hating you, Thor.” Loki sincerely said. “In fact, I am really grateful. I had no future in Jötunheim, except being a commodity to sell to the highest bidder. Here, at least, I will have a goal, a purpose in life.” Loki tried a brave face. “I'll do my best, Thor. I won't disappoint you, I promise ! First thing, after the wedding, I'll change into a female and I will...” He had no time to finish his phrase for Thor kissed him the same way he did in front of the brothers.

A moment passed. Loki lost his sense of time. It was easy to give up his control. Thor knew how to kiss and please. For the first time in 48 hours, where his life had been totally upside down and changed forever, he felt very good. He felt heavenly in fact... Needless to say, the only one to make him fly that high with touches had been Thor all the time. But when Thor broke the kiss, Loki realized he was crying. The reason for it was simple. He was safe, warm, almost happy... While his dearest friends were dead, the Norns knew where, rotting under the earth or devoured by the ice beasts... It broke his heart to be alive, instead of them. To be savoring life while they were gone forever. Sigyn and her gentle soul. Angrboda and her bright mind. They had deserved a life. He wasn't sure he had the same merit. It had been unfair since their birth. They had been doomed since the start. Such short lives and for what ? He felt Thor's gentle hands on his face. He was drying his tears. That kind gesture made Loki felt weak in the legs. “We will avenge them.” Thor quietly said. Loki looked at him, totally taken aback. “I don't know who those people your brother killed were but he has slain innocent lives only to make you miserable. Treaty or not, he will pay for what he had done.”

In that instant, Loki's heart melted. Thor was not a monster anymore. He was more sensible and kind that many that Loki knew or had met. Maybe he had inherited more of his mother than people thought. For these kind words only, Loki was ready to do anything for him, this very minute. He then took Thor's face with both his hands and kissed him on his own. Thor let him do it with a surprised jolt. Still holding Thor, he made him lay down next to him. Thor was all red with confusion. “Do you wish to anticipate on our wedding night ?” Loki asked as a half-joke. Thor opened his mouth that has turned wet and red. “But... Little One, are you sure ? It seems a bit... We are in no hurry, I can wait...” Loki caressed his face. It was the first time he touched someone like this. All his fears were gone. He was more confident than he ever was... Or so he thought... “I've never been so sure...” Loki smiled.

****

He wasn't that much sure of himself once he was totally naked and he had to behold the sight of the Thunderer stark naked. He had actually seen male and female nakedness many times, even Sigyn and Angrboda when they went to the royal baths together but he wasn't attracted to nudity or to anything else for that matter. Even his own body felt dirty. He had been so shamed about himself he couldn't even imagine what could be shared between two people. And Thor's presence was overwhelming. He was sculpted to perfection, every muscle marvelously defined and toned. He was so different from any Frost Giant and yet so close to Loki, though bigger. Loki was lost. He had no idea about his own wants and feelings. Thor shook his head, embarrassed by Loki's confusion. “Little One, you are not ready for this and we have plenty of time...” Loki, on his back, grabbed Thor's shoulder to pull him towards him. “No, Thor, my intended, my Lord, my husband, my whatever you want me to say...” Loki held Thor close. It was warm, though very heavy... “I do not want to wait right now. For all you've done for me, you deserve this...” Thor was unconvinced but complied. Everything his beloved wanted, he would get

Thor's mouth was as hot as fire. Loki heard noises he didn't know he could make. Sensations he had no idea they could exist. He came first in Thor's mouth and apologized profusely. Thor only laughed and told him there was other things to discover.

Loki almost screamed when Thor put his tongue in.... THAT place. Loki shivered for what seemed like centuries when Thor used to slowly abused that soiled entrance with his tongue. Loki managed to warn him with a shaking voice that he was not going to kiss him until he cleaned his mouth after he was done. Thor laughed again and told him this was just a necessary beginning. Loki shouldn't make promises he wasn't sure to make...

Thor used his fingers. Loki was paralyzed. It took him several minutes to be sure Loki was ready. He asked again if he was really alright with all of this. Loki wasn't certain of it but he wanted Thor. As surprising as it was and though he was embarrassed beyond words at his newfound lewdness, he wanted to go all the way.

When Thor slowly took him, it felt like an internal tear at first. It made Loki cry despite Thor's gentle care. When Thor managed to move, it was a little better but not that great. Until Thor touched something deep inside and that made Loki tremble from head to toe.

When they fell asleep together, at the end of this insane day, Loki felt lighter than he had ever felt. In body and mind, he wouldn't be the same anymore.

****

The wedding took place in the morning. Loki's brothers had insisted on it. It was a very quick, formal and private thing presided by both Asgardian and Jötunn justices of the peace. It had to be so the wedding contract could not be compromised. It was a depressing absence of grandeur and protocol. Thor was a little sad. This was not how he had pictured his own wedding. Not to mention that the wedding night occurred before... Nothing was done properly. But as his mother had promised him there would be something more public and dignified later, that this was only for diplomatic reasons. It was a relief for Thor. Loki deserved better than this depressing affair. The treaty was quickly signed afterwards. It was made as fast as the wedding. Loki felt like a knot in his chest that has been there for centuries was being slowly untied, letting in a smooth and clean air.

But only as he saw his brothers disappearing on the Bifröst, as he felt Thor's heavy and tender arm on his shoulders, he felt truly and well free.

[captnbarnesrogers]

My Number One, My Always Will Be King

Pairing/Characters: Dad!Tony x Daughter!Reader, Mom!Pepper, OC (Derek)

Warnings: Not much, Reader gets caught kissing/making out, angst, swearing, heated make out sesh

Summary: Tony’s daughter is growing up a little too fast, he knows this because she’s brought a boy home which she did not intend for him to see.

Word Count: 1764

A/N: OH LORDY THANK YOU FOR 100+ FOLLOWERS!!! CAN’T BELIEVE THERE’S SO MANY OF YOU READING MY FICS! Also PEPPER IS SUCH A QUEEN!!!! <3 <3 <3 Thank you @purplekitten30 for requesting the Dad!Tony fic :*

You sat on the kitchen bench top, Derek’s hips wrapped in between your legs as he kissed you passionately. Your hand crumples the hem of his shirt while his hand was pushing you closer to him by pushing the nape of your neck forward. His lips pull away from your swollen ones as he trails his plump lips down your neck. Derek’s hand travels up to grab your hair and you moan, rolling your eyes back, You rip his shirt open, the buttons flying off and push it off as he continued his assault on your neck.

“Pepper, honey, I’m home!” your eyes widen as you hear the unexpected voice from the hallway,

“Daddy?” you whisper, Derek pulls away from your neck and gives you a smirk,

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me?” you look at him confusingly and backtrack what you’d said before, realising what that must’ve sounded like to him,

“What? No!… I mean, maybe,” You giggle and hear the footsteps got closer and louder and you knew you had to get him out of here, “My dad’s home from Japan! Shit!” You jump off of the bench top and grab his shirt on the floor, shoving it into his chest, “Put it on.”

“Babe, you broke the buttons!”

“Derek you have to leave!” you whisper-yell but before you could lead him to the back door, you hear the drop of a bag and you knew you were fucking screwed.

“Y/N.” you hear the stern voice behind you, fuck fuck fuck, you turn around to meet the enraged eyes of your father. You smile and Derek stood there dumbfounded, unable to move, his face flushed from embarrassment,

“Daddy, you’re home!” you ran up to him and give him a small smile, “Wh-what’re uh... you doing home so early?” His stare intensified towards Derek while he answered your nervous voice,

“Meeting went quicker than expected.” Tony noticed your messy hair, his broken and buttonless shirt, and both of your flushed as crimson faces and put two and two together, his insides just imploded, “Who the hell is this?”

“Dad this is my uh, my boyfriend Derek Xavier.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir, uh Mister Stark, I- uh I’m so sorry for the uh-” Derek held out his hand, Tony stares at his gesture and rolls his eyes, Derek lowers his hand,

“I really don’t care, get him out and we’re gonna have a little chat.” He says as he walks off,

“Dad!”

“Not another word, Y/N.” you look at Derek apologetically but he understands, caressing your cheek and grabbing your hand, pressing a kiss to your fingers,

“It’s okay, Y/N, I promise, I’m not going anywhere.” He lets go of his hand, kisses you on the cheek and shows himself out.

You make your way up the stairs to your dad’s room. Your heart was beating quickly but not from fear or nervousness but from anger. You just didn’t understand, you were eighteen. You promised him no boyfriends until you were eighteen, nearing nineteen, and you did just that. You weren’t a disobedient daughter, you loved your father very much but you just couldn’t shake the fact that he was still acting like you’re his precious five-year-old playing tea party near his desk. You weren’t that little girl anymore. You were a young woman studying in college, you were doing your internship at one of the most credible law firms, your grades were always up, you never disrespected your parents and you always came home at a reasonable time when you were out with some friends. The only reason you’d hidden Derek from your dad was because you knew this would happen but the past eight months were the happiest you’ve ever been and you weren’t about to let it go just because your dad refused to stop treating you like a child.

“Is he gone?” Tony asked,

“Just like you rudely told me to, dad.” you snapped back,

“You’re grounded for two weeks-” your eyes widened,

“What!? No I-”

“Two weeks, Y/N, no friends over, you’ll go to your internship and straight back home.”

“For what, Dad!? I didn’t do anything wrong!” You protested at his punishment,

“You bring a goddamn boy over our house and then you look like you’ve just… Not another word, Y/N. You’re grounded and that’s final!”

“You’re being unreasonable.” You begin to tear up, “This is unfair!”

“Life’s not fair, sweetheart, it never has been.”

“I love him, Dad!” he stops in his tracks,

“What did you just say?”

“God!” Your tears begin to flow down as you look up, trying to stop them from rolling down, “You just- you don’t understand!” You walk away and bump into your mother whose smile fades when she sees your sadness,

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” you disregard her question and run to your room, “Tone, what the hell did you do?”

“She bought a fucking boy over and I caught them looking like they just… You know.”

“A boy? You mean Derek?” she asks her clueless husband,

“Wait a minute, Pepper, you knew about this and you didn’t even care to, I don’t know, tell your husband, the father of your child?!”

“You are an idiot.” she argues, “I’m her mother, she came to me about it! He’s been courting her out of respect to you! She loves him, Anthony! She didn’t say yes for three years because she thought she’d disappoint you!”

“Three years? He’s stayed with her for three years?” she nodded, he sighs, wanting to backhand himself across the room, “You think she’s mad?”

“I don’t know, Tone, did she look happy to you?” Pepper rolls her eyes at him, walking to the drawer and pulling out a card. She grabs a pen and writes down some numbers, “Go talk to her and then call Derek’s house and invite him for dinner.” She hands him the note, “You’d be surprised at just how amazing of a kid he is.”

Tony stands up from his spot on the bed and exits his room, walking himself to your room with a heavy heart. He stands at your door and takes a deep breath before knocking.

“Y/N? You awake, sweetheart?” He peeks his head into your room and sees you clutching on your Mickey Mouse stuffed toy that he bought you when you were seven. He sees your eyes blinking out tears and it breaks his heart, he did that, he made you cry and it was all because of his goddamn pride and his over-protectiveness, “Can I come in?” He takes your silence as a sign of agreeing with his question of entrance. There was nothing but silence and tension in the air as you weren’t ready to speak to your father just yet and he felt too ashamed to speak after what he did. He sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sor-” he begins,

“I broke up with him, it’s fine, Dad.” You let go of your stuffed toy and slid yourself out of the bed and into the bathroom,

“Y/N I-”

“Dad, seriously, you have nothing to worry about now, Internship and school and straight back home.” He realised how much of your life you spent trying to make him happy, trying to make him proud. You did it so much that you gave up the things that made you happy. He remembers when you were eleven and you were into art but that wasn’t what he wanted you to do so you stopped and told him you didn’t really like doing art anymore but all you wanted to do was draw your emotions. Piece by piece he puts together all the times you’d given up something because you thought it would disappoint him. All this time he thought he was being a good father but all he was doing was crushing you, inside out. “We weren’t really together that long anyway.” You walk out of the bathroom fresh faced and smile at him, then kissing his cheek.

“Y/N, why would you do that?”

“Why would I do what?”

“Break up with him.”

“I d-didn’t really like him anyway.” You lied, swallowing the lump in your throat,

“You loved him.” Tony corrects,

“W-what? No, I just- I said that in the heat of the moment.” You fake giggle but he catches on,

“Don’t you dare lie, Y/N. You have spent eighteen years of your life trying to make me happy,” he begins, standing up and facing you, “I realise that as much as I thought I was being the best father I could be, I was being a fucking horrible guy and keeping you away from all the things you should be doing and all the things o-or people that make you happy. I guess I was just afraid of losing my little girl, my kid who would wrap herself around my leg before I went to work…”

“But that’s just it, Dad, I’m not that little girl anymore.” you admit, tears flowing freely once again from your eyes,

“I know and I’m sorry for putting you in a place like this, I’m sorry that I was the reason you had to break up with your boyfriend,” He lowers his head, too scared to look back at you, “There is nothing more I want than to see you happy, sweetheart.”

“He makes me so happy, Dad, so so happy.” He finally lifts his head up and sees you smiling at just the thought of this boy, “He’s so good to me a-and he treats me like a queen, I’ve never been so happy with anyone in my life.”

“I can see that,” he holds his arms out to you, “C’mere.” He holds you close and kisses the top of your head,

“You’ll always be my number one guy, Dad, you’re always gonna be my king,” you sigh and look up at him, “but unfortunately for you a prince came along and swept me off of my feet.” He laughs at you,

“Unfortunately.” he says smiling softly, “I know you guys just broke up but I’m sure he’s still harbouring feelings for you, you think he’ll wanna have dinner with us?”

“I just wasted eight months of us being together, you think he’ll take me back?”

“He’d be an idiot not to, princess,” he protests, “and besides, I have an Iron suit, what does he have?”

“He’s uh… he’s a mutant.”

“Like the X-Men?” Tony questions,

“He is an X-Men.”

“Well, shit.” You both laugh and Pepper joins you both in a family hug.

MASTERLIST REQUESTS/FEEDBACK HERE

[ranaicygnus]

True Nature

-- Alternate Universe--

((If you enjoy lots of violence and epic (I find it epic okay) “what if” stories between SWTOR characters, this one might make you super happy. It takes place on Xydor's ship after Neshimo has been captured on Tatooine. Also, since I believe this one turned out ‘okay’, I’m willing to write more violent “what if” stories with mine and other peoples characters. Let me know if you are interested!))

Let the violence commence! 

Neshimo could taste the blood from the split lip. It had to be bad, because when he looked down at the floor, he saw a small pool of it, and it was a lot closer to his face than he liked. It made his eyes squint as his dazed mind tried to make sense of how so much blood could be spilled from a cut lip. Maybe he was wrong, maybe it came from somewhere else. Coherent thoughts were hard right now as a low agonizing groan escaped him when something hard and very boot-shaped struck him in the stomach. Again. This was not the first hit to that region of his body, judging from how he felt right now. His throat contracted and his breath hitched when a gloved hand snaked its way into his long silver hair and pulled back on it, hard.

Pale eyes flickered. “Argh! P-please…please stop.”

The young Sith was sitting in an awkward kneeling position with his left leg sticking out in an almost unnatural angle – even through the pants it was evident that anatomy had taken a wrong turn somewhere, and it had left his leg trembling and useless. His hands were cuffed on his back, and the looming figure of a tattooed man in Jedi robes, gave his hair an extra yank backward, forcing him to bare not only his throat but also the Force dampening collar that was locked around it. A visible shiver and stutter followed from the prisoner. “Y-You’ve m-made your point.”  

“No. I have not even begun to make my point yet.” The raspy voice was harsh and uncaring, and when the Sith tried to meet the stare of the man, it was clear that the emerald green eyes that judged him, were unable to be reasoned with. There was no mercy to be found anywhere on that face. Not anymore. “You have no idea what I want from you, do you?”

Neshimo had to admit through the haze of pain that he had absolutely no clue – and it showed clearly on his bruised face. It elicited a growl from the robed man. “Why won’t you get angry? Where is the Sith in you?!” He grabbed hold of the young man’s jaw and leaned in on him, as if to study his unusual dark features more closely. “You are nothing but a spoiled brat…” The grip around the jaw tightened and Neshimo let out a hiss as he gritted his teeth. He struggled to pull back but only received a fist to the face for his troubles. He saw stars once more and quietly wondered if his nose was still whole – and the overwhelming urge to throw up certainly didn’t help. He tried to focus on the voice that kept taunting him.

“Maybe you want to be punished. Maybe you know that you deserve this… Is that it?! You want this?!” The robed man still had a good grasp on the long silver hair and used it to turn Neshimo’s face toward his own. “You are unable to become angry because you want me to punish you for being a bad Sith. Is that it? Tell me!”

The young Sith opened his mouth but all that came out was a half-choked cough and pale eyes that could barely keep themselves open. It only made the other man even angrier, and that is when he made a mistake. A big one. “You son of a bitch, are you already beaten?” Neshimo said nothing, but his eyes did go wide when he felt a rush unlike any other when the Force returned to him like a tidal wave smashing against a cliff face.  The robed man had done a very unlikely thing and unlocked the Force dampening collar around his neck. It was a surge that flooded his senses and he only vaguely paid attention to the belittling words that were hissed into his ear. “Wake up and fight me. Get angry… I want to beat the Sith in you to a pulp, not…not whatever this pathetic excuse is.”

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. As the collar hit the floor between them, Neshimo’s pale eyes flared up and then he slammed his forehead into the other man’s face. The scream that immediately followed and the hand that loosened its grip on his hair, told the Sith that he had bought himself a precious second. It was spent wisely as he used the Force to yank the only visible lightsaber from his capturers belt, toward himself. He spun his body in such a way that his cuffed hands could grab the incoming hilt, and then spent another second activating and deftly juggling the dangerous green beam with amazing precision that allowed him to cut through the metal cuffs.

Free!

The unexpected rush of having his enhanced senses returning and now suddenly having the freedom of movement, plus a lightsaber, was enough to send him over the edge. He was emotionally in taters right now, and where the pain would have normally weakened him, it seemed to fuel him for the first time ever. He bared his teeth in a vicious sneer as he twisted his upper body back around in a rather impressive powerful feat, and then lashed out with the weapon in a wide upward arc that was meant to cut his tormenter in half.

A loud gasp filled the room and Neshimo realized that he wasn’t the one making that sound. He froze and took in the scene in front of him, still being on his knees. He wouldn’t be the only one for long though. The young Sith watched as what was a Jedi Knight only in name, staggered and then sunk to their knees in front of him, hands pressed against a long and potentially deep cut to their abdomen. There probably wouldn’t be much blood at first, seeing as lightsabers had a tendency to cauterize whatever mess they made, but…if it was deep enough, the dark red fluid would surely spill if given enough time.

Everything had happened so unreasonably fast. The robed man had been caught off guard and now he suffered the consequences of his rash decisions.

“How does it feel…” Neshimo hardly even recognized his own wrathful voice as he turned off the weapon and shuffled forward over the floor. He couldn’t walk, but by the gods, he would finish what the Jedi had started - and as such, he dragged his damaged leg behind him, inch by inch, using his quest for revenge to drive him forward. He felt a surge of uncontained euphoria and anger as he grabbed hold of the other man’s dark hair. It was lush and plentiful, and set up in a bun – which was exactly what he had taken hold of now. “Are you angry yet?” Those words could hardly have been delivered with more spite and venom.

He pressed the unlit business end of the hilt up under the man’s chin and held it there. It felt so good. He could sense the pain and mental collapse and was feeding on it… It was like an otherworldly visual and sensual taste that made him feel dizzy. He licked his cut lip and felt his hands shaking. Actually, everything was shaking but he didn’t care. He just wanted to stare at the bearded and tattooed face that had brought him so much despair lately, and revel in the fact that their roles had switched. He was delighted by the vague shudder elicited from the robed man as he leaned in and deliberately bumped against the now bloodied abdomen with his good knee. The hands that were trying very ineffectively to keep blood from spilling, jerked, and the Jedi’s contorted face made something stir in the pit of the young Sith’s stomach. “I don’t torture people, but…you-you make me want to hurt you.” Neshimo looked pleased, but not in a way that could mean anything good, and his voice took an even darker turn, becoming a near whisper; “I like how I feel when you are in pain… Is that-is that what you want to hear? Is that Sith enough for you?” He yanked the wounded man’s head forward and kept the hilt pressed against his chin, just underneath the jawline. “Does that make me you? For liking this as much as you seem to do? Are we both Sith now? With your behavior, I just… I just can’t tell anymore.” He grimaced at the provoking thought and then leaned forward to carefully let their foreheads connect. Gently.

He stayed in that position, feeling an odd liking for the closeness that they now shared.

For some reason, he wasn’t afraid of the connection that they had in common. If it happened, it happened – and he would deal with it…and probably have his thumb slip on the hilt and burn the man’s face off.

He closed his eyes for a moment and continued to enjoy the misery that vibrated off the Jedi. They were so close to each other that Neshimo could feel the heat from the man’s breath against his own skin. It came in quick little hitched bursts, that signaled that the tormentor-turned-tormented was pretty much focused on simply keeping himself alive by doing as little as possible. Except for perhaps breathing.

“Xydor…” Neshimo exhaled slowly and let go of the hair, though kept the hilt firmly in place. It was the first time in a long time that he had used the Jedi’s name. “I think I am going to kill you.” The anger was still there, but seemed to be slightly more contained now.

“D-do it.” The trembling words that spilled forth from the Jedi, made the young Sith raise an eyebrow. He had a nagging suspicion about this. “Really?” He ran his free hand gently over the man’s bloodied face, almost in a caressing fashion as he traced the dark lines of the tattoos. He savored being close to someone he loathed so much. Having the Kiffar be so helpless under him was a new and strange feeling. He absolutely loved it and it should scare him. But right now, it did not. “Why so eager?” The response didn’t shock him nearly as much as he thought it might have. In fact, it made sense to him.

“I am l-lost…”

Ah but of course. A low chuckle worked its way up through Neshimo’s throat as he let his fingers wander lightly over the man’s trembling lips. They were coated by the steady stream of blood running from a broken nose. “I see. The one needing punishment is you and not me. You fucked up and you know it. You strayed from everything you believe in and…well, here we are. You deserve this, yes?” He finally moved his face back a little and gave the Jedi a minimum of space for the first time. What could he possibly do to prolong this man’s pain? There was an eerie and strangely dark urge that pushed him to continue this. He needed to feed this new obsession – whatever this was.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence in the room, aside from the uneven and shallow breathing coming from the Jedi. And then it occurred to Neshimo. He knew the punishment, and while it wouldn’t directly feed his new desire here and now, it felt appropriate.

“You shall live,” he said out loud, teeth bared in something that mimicked a smile. He even removed the hilt from the man’s chin.

It was absolutely worth it. There was so much satisfaction in watching the man’s quivering expression and the despair in his pained eyes. It was a reaction that he could feed off - something that could sustain him. At least for now.

Then he noticed the tiny flicker. A vibration in the Force. It was brief but it was there. He was sure of it. He even listened to the man’s words, and yet they meant nothing to him before it was too late. “If you will not end me, I…I s-shall end you.” Something dark and unknown stirred in Xydor as he uttered those words, and Neshimo was a second too late to pick up on the anger and pure will of the well-trained Jedi that would once more put him in his place.

He saw a flash of red with traces of a blazing orange fire, and he started to move himself out of the way as everything in him screamed danger.

It was not enough though. It was too little, too late. He was slow and so overloaded with his new-found taste for darkness that he never saw the incoming threat.

At least not before it was much too late. The pain was intense and he felt as if he was going to burn up. The Jedi was holding a lightsaber in his hand and it looked an awful lot like the Sith’s own personal weapon. Neshimo’s pale eyes rolled in his head before he took to staring blankly down at the searing hot beam that had impaled his left shoulder. How could he not have seen that coming? Had he truly been so obsessed and blinded by the thought of revenge and pain that he never noticed his own lightsaber on the Jedi’s person? The answer was probably a resounding yes.

The beam shut down and Neshimo slumped to the floor in an almost self-inflicted pool of anguish and hurt, cradling his sizzling and smoking shoulder. He had never felt such intense pain before and in this moment he would do and say anything to make it go away. This was all on him. His decision had brought him here and there were no Force powers in the world that could help him overcome how he felt right now. The anger had been replaced by fear and regret, and a shiver ran up his spine at the thought of how far he had fallen. Xydor wasn’t the only one who deserved this. He was no better himself. It took what felt like an eternity to him to realize that there were no words or further action coming from the Jedi. It was certainly worth noting and he made an effort to look over at the man.

It was a peculiar sight. At least at first. The Jedi was still kneeling and clearly in pain, but…the details were all wrong. The Sith’s lightsaber had been dropped on the floor and Xydor’s right hand was no longer focused on the bloodied abdomen, but instead cradling his left – and unwounded – shoulder. He looked as if he might topple over any second now and there was much confusion in his green eyes.

Neshimo stared and it took him a long breathless moment to realize what was going on.

Oh no.

[crackmadhi]

Technicians, Magicians and Princesses make the Best Sisters

Saturday, 17 March 2029

“Klavier, would you be so kind a get the panda?”, Nahyuta asked the rock star as he put down the plate with pancakes on the table.

Klavier obliged and went into Simon's room. He found the man laying on his back under about four different kinds of blankets. He attempted to go over to him and remove them with a quick movement, as the tall man sat up himself and eyed the rock star suspiciously.

“Never try to wake me up like this again”, Simon stated coldly as he stood up and stretched his arms.

"You're no fun", Klavier pouted and followed Simon into the kitchen.

As they came to the table Simon was rather surprised to see what the monk had managed to make out of the few things that had been left in his fridge.

“The eggs yolk should still be liquid. If you want it well-done, I'll cook it some more, but now sit down and take some pancakes”, the monk ordered him to sit down.

Surprised, but definitely smiling, the man sat down and took a pancake out of the plate while amusedly shaking his head. Discreetly he watched Klavier doing the same with a lot more yawning. Nahyuta on the other hand was quite lively, as he energetically started to cut his fried eggs. He was definitely a morning person and somebody who loved to eat.

A brief laugh escaped Simon's lips and earned him a pointed look from Nahyuta. The man rose his eyebrows and then asked him: “What's funny?”

Simon shook his head and took honey from the middle of the table.

“Nothing. Only that there's somebody here, who's even less of a morning person than I am.”

Softly Simon pointed with the knife in his hand to Klavier's direction, who had almost dropped a piece of sugar into the marmalade glass. Nahyuta only raised his eyebrows at the sight of this and did not even bother to comment on Simon’s observation. Klavier’s clumsiness in the morning spoke for itself.

The conversation died down after that for a bit. The three men simply ate in silence and just enjoyed their own company. They all also had their own little sorrows and problems that occupied their minds and kept them from talking anymore.

Well, until Klavier’s sleepy switch suddenly switched and he straight out asked the samurai: “How did you get us into your bed, anyway? I don’t remember how we got there at all.”

“You can’t recall that”, Simon responded flatly, “because you were asleep. Neither of you reacted when I picked you up and carried you into my room. You both slept like stones.”

“What?”, the blond asked unbelievingly.

“Don’t act so surprised”, Simon mumbled and handed the monk the soy sauce he had pointed at. “Neither of you is really heavy and I’m by all means anything but weak. As you may recall I was able to break my shackles. And I could do it again, if I was required to do so.”

“Well”, Nahyuta interfered while holding his hand in front of his mouth and then swallowed the food he had just been chewing, “it’s still quite troublesome to lift people our height. I’m six feet tall and Klavier is probably about the same. And I honestly can’t believe that you could have broken your shackles. They are made out steel and are able to hold back guys that are twice as wide as you. You’re just bluffing.”

Simon laid his fork down and mildly annoyed stared at the monk, while Klavier observed both of them curiously. In a way he found it amusing to see Simon so pissed and Nahyuta being so unreasonably bold.

“I could lift you and this chair without breaking a sweat, feather weight. And I have no need of bluffing about these things. Klavier saw me breaking them and your brother can tell you the same. I did break my shackles and I do not care for your baseless assumptions.”

Nahyuta’s eyes had widen slightly by that statement and he searched for confirmation in Klavier. The blond nodded agreeing with Simon’s word and gave the monk a sympathising smile. As Nahyuta then violently turned back in Simon’s direction in utter disbelief Klavier almost started laughing out loud. He had even more difficulties to contain himself, as he looked at Simon’s less than under impressed expression while he was demonstratively sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Seriously? You are not shitting me right now?”, the monk said slowly realizing that Simon in fact might be telling the truth.

Now Simon actually started to chuckle. Seeing the man like this was just too amusing. He straightened up in his chair and then quickly stood up. Swiftly he stepped over to Nahyuta, carefully but quickly pulled back his chair and lifted the man up, just as he had done it the other night.

Nahyuta did not react at all out of shock, but only stared at him in bewilderment. The man had not been bluffing. He actually was able to pick him up easily and hold him simply in bridal style. And suddenly it dawned the man how they must look like right now and felt the blood rushing into his face.

Deliberately, Nahyuta put his hand on his collar bone and turned his face away from Simon’s chest. Slightly faltering but still composed enough he raised his voice and told the samurai with the shit-eating grin on his mouth: “I see… You have proven your point and elaborated why I’m wrong. Would you now please let me down? I do not appreciate being hold like a damsel in distress.”

Carefully the samurai let Nahyuta down. While he was at it, he explained: “Actually I haven’t really proven my point. You are indeed very light, and I think most people would be able to pick you up. To prove my point, I’d have to also pick up the chair and probably put a 25 pounds weight on it. And even then, it would not be that impressive.”

Huffily Nahyuta straightened the wrinkles in the foolish sweatpants and mumbled offended: “I’m not a lightweight. 149 pounds are perfectly fine for a guy my height and frame. You have no idea.”

“How much do you weight?! I’m barely 2 inches taller than you and am almost 60 pounds heavier! Are you eating enough?”, Simon asked Nahyuta with big eyes.

Surprised Nahyuta met Simon’s gaze and found real concern in the samurai’s eyes. Oh my, the man somehow reminded him of his always troubled mother. That was a bit unsettling.

“Cool down Simon. His weight’s fine. And you should not take yourself as a standard for weight. You are a huge guy with a lot of muscles and are like three times as broad as he is. And anyway, it’s a bad idea to compare weight. It’s really unhealthy”, Klavier interfered coolly.

The other two gave him a suspicious look. That tone definitely intended something more than Klavier had just said. Silently both men decided to let it drop. It might be a better idea not compare weight in front of Klavier again. It seemed to make him uncomfortable.

So Nahyuta went back at his place on the table and waited with speaking until Simon had sat down as well. When the tall man finally had settled down again, Nahyuta offhandedly told him: “I eat regularly an enough. I’m just constantly on the move and I rarely got the time to eat long dinners. And if it wasn’t for that I probably would be rather chubby. I put on weight pretty fast.”

As Nahyuta said that last sentence, he made a sour face.

Simon barked a laugh and Klavier knitted his eyebrows together in doubt. A chubby Nahyuta did not sound very likely. Both of them could hardly believe that he could be something else than a thin leech but how were they supposed to talk back? Neither of them knew if Nahyuta had indeed once been a bit fatter than today.

“Well, I don’t know if that’s true, but I’ll have to take your word for it”, Simon said amused and took the soy sauce. “Anyway, it would probably look nice on you. I mean, you manage to look kinda cute in my old clothes, so a few pounds more can’t possibly hurt you that much.”

Flabbergast Nahyuta stared at the samurai. This was the very last thing he had expected to hear from him. No, this kind of compliment, form a man who had despised him only a day earlier, this was not something Nahyuta had expected in his day.

He was so taken aback that he did not even manage to say something as Simon stood up and went into his room to let his hawk inside, who had been crying vehemently.

With Simon gone Klavier pulled on the monks t-shirt and told him quietly: “He’s saying such things often. It comes very unexpected at first, but you’ll get used to it. It’s actually really nice to get compliments from him. He always means what he says there.”

“Life’s too short to not say what you mean. It’s worse to regret saying nothing than saying the wrong thing. It’s what my sister preached all day long and by now I have to admit she’s not completely wrong with that statement”, Simon said as he came back to the table.

Finally, Nahyuta had got his composure back and observed how the tall man sat back down. His tone was different than before. It was just a small difference in his voice, but he could definitely spot the change, even though he could not say what it was about. Curiously he watched the samurai continuing eating calmly.

His left hand was shaking a little and he did not look up to them, even though he clearly knew that Nahyuta and Klavier were watching him.

“It slipped my mind that you had an older sister. What was her name again? Something with A wasn’t it?”, Nahyuta inquired while waving around with his fork and watching the ceiling.

“Aura” Simon’s answer was quick. The grip around the fork became tighter. “She’s-“

“I’m aware. You do not need to inform me. I had the chance to look at the records of the retrial of UR-1, when I came to the States.”

Nahyuta had saved Simon from talking about his sister’s crime. He did not want to torture the samurai with the story. There was no need for more cruelty.

Meanwhile Simon had turned away from the other men. He felt the stinging pain in his lungs and had no intention to show them this. Slowly he then closed his eyes and counted to ten. It was not the most efficient way to deal with this but the subtlest, and around these four keen eyes he needed to be as subtle as possible.

As soon as he could, he turned back to the others and continued eating pretending as if nothing had happened at all. Playing it down had always worked best for him. In a way. Somehow.

When Nahyuta cleared his throat Simon simply glanced at him. The monk took it as a permission to speak and said: “I did not want to touch a nerve, Simon. Excuse my intrusiveness.”

Simon smirked at him. Neither Klavier nor Nahyuta could determine if it was an honest one or one that was there to make them feel better. Anyway, the samurai licked his lips and told the monk nonchalantly: “Look, actually I don’t mind talking about her. I just hate it that she sacrificed so much for me. I did not ask for it and she endangered herself and others with her actions. … Why did you even read my case file? It shouldn’t be too interesting for you.”

“For one I was interested in the case and the international spy, and other than that I wanted to learn about the circumstances in which Clay died. I did not know the man, but he was close to Apollo and I wanted to understand his pain as good as I could. I talked with him about it, but he was never really ready to talk about the incident itself. And… I had the urge to learn more without bothering Apollo any longer. Then I remembered the case file and read it after asking him if he was fine with it. That’s why I know about your sister. I did not stalk you or look up your past more than that. Same goes for Klavier, if you were worried about it”, Nahyuta explained and shot Simon a cautious look.

Simon just shrugged and said to him: “Glad to know that you’re not a stalker. And if that’s the only thing you read about Aura, then you probably have a horrible impression of her.”

“I can’t say that she appeared very friendly in the files. Would that be different normally?”

Simon chuckled and shook his head. Nahyuta recognized a small glint of amusement in the other’s eyes and understood that this time the samurai’s cheer was sincere.

“Nah, she’s horrible all the time. Snarky and standoffish. And an annoyingly smart robotic nerd. And arguing with her is real pain in the ass. She’s way too stubborn, that’s why she never stopped trying to talk me out of it. And as I did not give in, she took a different route. An extreme one, but that had to be expected. She never was one to half ass things.”

He sighed and shot both men a short look before taking another bite of his pancake. Neither of them felt entitled to say something. Nahyuta remained silent, because he believed that he had no right to say something, since he did not know Simon well enough and Klavier held back because he did not know what to say to Simon’s situation. It had never crossed the rock star’s mind that Simon was thinking about his sister’s choices. He had never realized that it might bother him, even if it actually was a rather obvious thought.

Eventually Nahyuta cleared his throat and slowly laid his fork and knife down. He still was unsure if it was appropriate for him to voice his thoughts, but he felt the need to say them, nevertheless. Patiently, he waited for Simon to look at him and as the black-haired finally met his gaze, Nahyuta graced him with a smile and said: “You don’t flatter her a lot with your words, reverse panda. But your tone tells a different story. You are missing the woman, aren’t you? There is no shame in longing for your family. I can understand that very well myself.”

Simon only hinted a smile and brushed it off right away.

“She’s the only blood family I have left. And I – I owe her a lot. I was able to become a prosecutor because of her. And she did a lot of other things she never had to do… It was way more than you can ask of a sibling. Way more than you could ask of a parent even. And still… She just did it. What doesn’t mean that she’s a good person. Because she’s not. But she gave up a lot for me and taught me plenty things. She cared about me, even when I had stopped to care. And I appreciate it. And yes, I miss her. Often. But I know that she’ll come back, so there is no need for me to brood about it anymore. I’ll get to see her again, and that is more than I ever could have hoped for”, Simon explained his eyes filled with determination and his back being straight and strong.

For a moment Nahyuta forgot that he was in the states, sitting on a wooden chair in the living room of an apartment from a man he barely knew. He only saw this human being sitting in front of him with so many emotion’s hiding behind his eyes and a strange, gentle passion buzzing in his words. He reminded him of something. A flash of green eyes and the tone of unruliness resonated in his ears.

A nostalgic smile stole its way on Nahyuta’s lips and the man muttered still lost in his memories: “How could she not try and save this potential? I would - I have done the same… I would always do it again.”

Surprised both Simon and Klavier looked at the monk and quickly exchanged a look. Where had that been coming from?

“Pardon?”, Simon asked gently and nudged Nahyuta to the side.

The man flinched a little but quickly composed himself. He realized that his thoughts must have drifted off and that he might have actually said what had been going on in his mind. Well, it had happened, but it was not too bad. He had not said a thing he’d be ashamed of.

“Oh, I just thought loudly. I can understand your sister’s choice quite well. You must be truly important to her, judging your words. And because of that she would have wanted to keep you as safe as possible. Protect you as well as she could. And so, she took the only way she could think off. You might think of it as extreme and maybe even foolish, but I’d go just as far to protect my family. Because I know how horrible it is to lose a brother. And I do anything to stop that from happening again. I won’t let him get hurt anymore.”

With the last phrase Nahyuta had shot Klavier a meaningful look. Nobody was allowed to hurt Apollo, no matter how kind or good they normally were. If the rock star just dared to make his brother cry, Klavier would suffer the consequences.

The blond gulped quite stressed, and Simon had a flash back to the trial he had seen Nahyuta fighting in. The man was truly intimidating, despite his regal behaviour and innocent face. He admittedly like that spunk.

He grinned and told the monk while shaking his head: “Rayfa and Justice must be glad to call you their brother, then. You went far to keep your sister safe and do a lot now to give Justice the recognition he deserves. You should be a really proud brother.”

With that Simon stood up and put his empty play to the sink. He went back and started to take the empty plates of the table and quietly noted that Nahyuta had eaten half of the pancakes himself. This guy truly loved it to eat.

At once Nahyuta stood right next behind him with his empty glass and the raspberry jam, which he put back in the fridge.

“Just put it down here, I’ll wash it-“

“You won’t do the dishes on your own this time”, Nahyuta stated with tone that did not accept any further arguments.

Defeated Simon gave in and said Nahyuta to grab a towel to dry the cutlery he had washed. Klavier ended up helping as well, as he put away the stuff Nahyuta had dried and it was rather crowded in Simon’s small kitchen.

Simon got the feeling that he would not get rid of this foolish monk and loud rock star anytime soon. And somehow, he was not as annoyed by it as he wanted to be.

Link There are several more chapters to this.

[princessclawdia-blog]

Call of the Wild

Now from the time I was a little kid, I could remember my parents would spank me for whatever nonsense or foolishness I had gotten into. Afterwards I remember feeling some shame, but the older I got it turned to more of an excitement. Like any kid at the time when I knew I was about to get my ass beat I would kick, fight back, run away, but afterwards it was such a turn on. The older I got when I finally had discovered masturbation and how if I rubbed my crotch hard enough how amazingly good it would feel, it was the same kind of excitement I would feel after being spanked. When I got close to adolescence I ended up stringing the two together. After I got my ass busted, once I was alone in my room, my cherry red cheeks throbbing I'd lay down onto my bed face down, put my headphones on and grind on top of my hand or a pillow. Now growing up in a Christian household with Christian parents, and my mother who at times was fanatical about her beliefs, I often felt ashamed like as if there was something wrong with me.

Homosexuality was a sin, masturbation was a sin, dirty or impure thoughts was a sin, rock n roll music was a device of the devil and pretty much anything else I enjoyed was a sin. I felt as if I were defective and a deviant. I would have nightmares about going to hell. My mother would blame our "sins" as the reason why she or my father had an illness, or the house needed repairs, financially they were struggling with bills or an unexpected expense that had come up that they weren't prepared for, because we were bad children. We were sinful children who didn't love God and so therefore God was punishing her and us because of our sins. I as a small child lived in fear of doing anything wrong or making mistakes because I was afraid God would punish me and or my family. No person could ever live up my mother's incredibly unreasonable expectations, regardless if God had a hand in it or not.

I truly believed this irrational nonsense until I was about thirteen and lived in a state of fear and constant anxiety. I loved reading to escape from the drama and I loved history too. Watching documentaries about the Nazis, about how the SS policed everything everyone said and did so as not to deviate from the ideal the Nazi party had set forth. Documentaries on the vietnam war and the fear of the rising threat of communism. I felt I could identify with the accounts people gave. They would give interviews and tell stories, remembering how scared and anxious they would be, living in fear of saying or doing the wrong thing, the paranoia and how it would bring about a horrible end. All of that would change once I discovered the heavens that lie beyond, in the internet.

Once I had access to the internet and had built my own first computer from odds and ends of other ones that had since been upgraded in the computer lab at school and then happened upon a local computer store that was happy to have a young eager mind willing to learn and donate their spare parts towards my cause I was on my way to opening a whole new world. Now in the days of dial up internet if you knew how to link into a phone line and swipe the AOL demos from the local Wal Mart in multiples so you'd have a supply of the free trial codes, you would have unlimited access, unless the phone lines were down. I found a plethora of free porn, which was completely foreign to me up until that point. There was so much available, from girls sucking horse cocks, to gangbangs, gaping holes, spanking which of course was my immediate favorite and it was then like I had discovered Valhalla.

I had, had dreams before of being spanked and at this point coming into transitioning from being a little kid and I was now twelve years old which meant moving up into junior high school and soon I'd be a teenager and all teens think they are the shit and know it all. For me though once I stumbled upon four letters BDSM: bondage and discipline, domination and submission, sadism and masochism. Now, I had heard the term sadist before, on tv when reporters would be referring to some terrible serial killer and the horrible crimes they had committed, but the rest really didn't mean much to me. I would comb through pages and pages of pictures, videos, women tied up, being fucked with dildos and vibrators, clamps and the popular clothespins hanging from throbbing nipples and I discovered my panties would be so wet after a little while of viewing.

So just like any other young, stupid kid I began experimenting. I would find clothespins, shoelaces, nylon rope in the garage and I would try to bind my still growing breasts just like in the pictures online and clamp clothespins to my tiny pink nipples. It hurt of course at first, but it was a good kind of pain. Not like the kind of pain when I fell rollerblading trying to grind across a handrail at the local church on an angle too steep to start with, but a pleasurable kind of pain. Then I moved to finding whatever I could find to fuck myself with. The big fat coloring markers, tampons still in the plastic applicator, vegetables, my hairbrush handle and my fingers. It all felt so good and it was addictive, like who doesn't want to masturbate every fucking day if they can right?

I suppose this is probably also how I ended up starting to fuck at an early age. I wasn't a complete idiot, I had taken sex education in school so I knew about STDS. My mother being a nurse and had a library of educational books in the house. When I ran out of books to read from the local library and it donned on me the wealth of knowledge in those anatomy books I began to devour them page by page. I had always loved to read since I was really little, I could read, write and spell before I hit kindergarten, but now I had a new motivation to learn. By age thirteen my mother had decided I was old enough to go to the gynecologist since my periods much like hers were getting terribly heavy and almost unbearable. Some days she would let me skip school and ride along with her to her job, and we would go to the mall for lunch sometimes when she could afford it. So by eighth grade and going on fourteen years old I was already on the pill, reading all I could about male and female anatomy and a porn fiend. When I started dating guys who were of course always a grade or two older than me and the opportunity arose after making out to fool around I thought I know exactly how to do this, I had watched so many videos online.

Even now as a grown woman I have always prided myself on giving blowjobs. I have had a lot of practice and when the first few times I had the opportunity as a teen I did what I saw online and to my surprise when I got complimented on how much he enjoyed it, it lit a fire. So when I started dating a guy who wanted to have sex, it was like my mind and body was in auto pilot. I would sneak out at night meet him in the local park, sometimes there against the silky lining on his leather trench coat in the dark under the moonlight, sometimes when his mom would be out of town and his little sister was fast asleep in her room he would let me into his bed, sometimes in his car if we could find somewhere hidden to park for a while. He was one of the first, others it would become sneaking in a quickie in their bedrooms knowing the parents were nearby. The ginger one when I got to high school, the local coffeehouse bathroom because it was quite spacious for a public restroom plus the aroma of chocolate pastries with caffeine just added to the experience.

By the time I got to college and I had friends who were just learning how to get good at fucking, their first few times in high school usually were awkward and not something they cared to remember or they were virgins waiting for it finally to be their turn I had already been through several "boyfriends". I referred to them as that, because there is not really any better term. They were boys, we were friends to some degree and we did stuff together.

Later on as an adult and into my twenties porn was something anymore I'd watch when bored or just dry up on available "boyfriend" options to pass the time. When I moved to another state and a much bigger city, my new girlfriends would talk about their boyfriends wanting to do things they just didn't enjoy. Like having her the woman get on top of him, doggie style or trying anal. Now in high school the first guy, yeah the one I met in the park at night, loved when he finally could sneak me into his bedroom and after he donned a glow in the dark condom he procured from the local gas station vending machine and I mounted on top of him. He had black lights all around his room, those tacky posters from Spencer's to match and White Zombie turned down low, thumping from his shelf stereo and it was a straight up party to the two of us. Probably one of the best reasons was while I was bouncing away on his cock to orgasm after orgasm he could lay back and we could both smoke the fat blunt he had just rolled. Sometimes his friends would come spend the night too, they would lay on either side of us on his bed, singing along to the music, passing the joint and eventually I would take my turn with each of them.

Of course my inner circle of closest friends back then, my fellow " juggalettes" (yeah, yeah I know I.C.P is so lame now, but back in the day they were the shit), the outcasts, drama and theatre nerds, the band geeks, only a few of them knew of my wild habits. They were the same few who I'd bump into at a house party or at the local coffeehouse where all the middle and lower class kids who didn't have Wranglers, Land Rovers, or tricked out pick up trucks to cruise around in at the mall, this where we went to hang out.

The few of my closer girlfriends I admit we were total sluts by definition. We would swap notes in classes, trying to one up one another about our raunchy tales from the weekend before. We would swap condoms and other goodies we purchased from various vending machines at truck stops and gas stations. Chewing on the flavored ones in class like they were fucking bubble gum. I'd swap my banana for strawberry which matched my wildly colored pillarbox red hair, as Manic Panic called it. In our minds, we felt grown up and badass as fuck. It was as if we knew a little secret the rest of our classmates had not yet figured out. Sex felt fucking awesome, it was fun and we fucking loved it. We loved to fuck every chance we got. Some of us like myself loved to fuck every chance I could with guys of course and girls too. I would salivate and get wet thinking about some of my girlfriends in their low slung hip hugger flare jeans, thong poking out in the back, spaghetti strap tops with their nipples showing through the cheap polyester fabric and the cheesy Playboy bunny glitter logo planted front and center, between their firm tits. Now that I think about this as an adult it all sounds so stupid and it is embarassing.

I still remember always feeling just a little bit off though from my friends. I would go back home, look at the darker side of porn and in the internet world I didn't feel so much as an outcast and a freak. I did eventually get a cheap webcam and I had accounts on AIM, YAHOO, and ICQ by now. I eventually late one night, at home and alone got bored and adventurous and discovered chat rooms. This wasn't like usual bullshit kiddie fun I had with my school friends, this was before emoticons were a thing too, you had to know the keystrokes to make each face. I of course found the over 18 chat rooms, quickly created an alternate profile with a fake name, address, age, and went to town. I got a cheap headset too, and I would spend hours talking to men and women from all over the world. I would exchange short videos and pictures with them. Clothespins on my nipples, tied up breasts, my fingers sloshing away at my puffy slippery wet pussy. It was in this world that I didn't feel I was an outcast, a defective, and certainly not a deviant. How could I be? There was a world of people out there just like me and enjoyed the things that I did. In this realm I felt like I belonged, like I had become part of some sort of kinky tribe. I at the time didn't know the definition of the word kink or that there was a name for these interests, just that they seemed to only come natural to me.

Now I don't know if this is the way other people have been introduced to the world of kink, but for me that is my earliest memory. As an adult now it seems to me that what I discovered was by happen stance, but if I hadn't discovered kink through the internet I would have eventually through another avenue in time. I now have piercings, tattoos, I change my hair color often on a whim and while some of these things are still considered even today in 2018 "alternative" or "wild" to me it just seems completely normal. Like my piercings and my tattoos I look at them everyday no different than the freckles on my skin. They are part of who I am, speak about me and I find them aesthetically beautiful. I don't think you can define or explain why it is some things are just attractive to some people and repulsive to others. The same with kink, it's just a turn on for many and for many others just seems bizarre and somehow unhealthy or there must be something wrong with you to enjoy such a thing. For those of us it speaks to, it's on a whole other level beyond just the physical sensations. There is a level of intimacy deeper than sex that's hard to describe, you just have to experience it.

Really and truly what it is at the core, for me at least, is an experience even when there is no sex involved. It does bring about that same kind of high you get after an intense orgasm, or at the end of a thrilling roller coaster ride. I get a high just from trying something new, it is for me a personal challenge, something new I hadn't tried before. It feels sometimes daunting, nerve wracking as fuck at times, even the feeling of danger maybe an element to it, and I have to self talk myself away from my fears of judgement or misunderstanding rooted in my conditioning since I was a child that this is not "normal behavior" and I am somehow a twisted deviant to derive such massive pleasure from participating in such things. Each new high, with each new experience it becomes cemented in my brain as a pleasant memory that brings a smile to my face. After so many years now it has become welded to my being. It is truly a part of me, of who I am, of who I was always meant to be.

I have in the past tried to supress it for one reason or another. Whether it was from a lack of time, the lack of motivation or simply just trying to fit in with a people or place, to belong where I was in life then, but after a time the hunger comes back. Like an insatiable thirst and there's only one way I know how to quench and relieve it. A call back to the wild is what I feel. Without it I don't feel whole, it is a part of my soul. Alongside my studies into the bdsm world I have also changed religious beliefs and philosophy over the years too and have come to find paganism and wicca to speak to my inner core like no other belief system could before.

My present day belief system is a fusion from different pagan practices, yes mostly from wicca, but nature and animals speak to my inner being and provide a peace I never found in christianity. I had read the Bible committed much of it to memory, I had read the Koran, books on buddhism, hinduism, jainism, back again to different versions of the bible and catholicism, but it I just didn't "feel" it. Something just wasn't right and so I continued my search until I found what I was looking for to end my hunger and thirst. Wicca and much of the other pagan beliefs centered around nature, just touched my soul in every right way possible. I felt the same kind of calm and peace when strolling down a trail on a cool fall day, admiring the colors of the fallen leaves, feeling the breeze through my hair, the fall sun warm on my cheeks, and I am one with the nature in the world around me. This is my religion, this is my spirituality, it was always there and all around me I just didn't know it until that moment.

My willingness to throw my whole self into the bdsm world and with every opportunity I can find, the closest analogy I can think of to explain why, is how I became a pagan over the years. It just clicks with me. It just speaks to who I am and to who I have always wanted to be deep down inside of myself. I had always been angry, self destructive even and at war with my inner self. I had grown tired and weary and longed for peace, for soildarity, for quiet, and to calm the storm inside of me.

The experience when I am into my subspace, participating in whatever activity I have chosen to experience, is what I like to think of as a call back to the wild. It is a call to just be, to let go of the many inhibitions that hold us back from experiencing the body and soul the way it is meant to be felt.

Life they say is meant to be lived. If you are "living" but not with feeling, with a passion, with a fire burning, with a sense of feeling free and enjoying the whole experience then to me that isn't really living. For me, I know I had heard the call of the wild many times before and I didn't fully understand it or I chose to repress it and pretend I couldn't hear it. It sounded like a lone wolf crying at the moon in search of its brethren.

I heard the call of the wild again and again and I had decided to follow it and now I know I am home. I feel the peace and solidarity with my soul that I had longed for. I am one with the wild. I am one with the wild fire burning inside and while I am learning how to master it still, I am one of the wild and no longer scared to be true to myself. I am no longer ashamed of what I am, to remain faithful and loyal to who I am. I want to become the call of the wild now to others who are willing to hear its message and want to come home to the pack. Come home my brethren, listen to the call of the wild inside of you. Do not be afraid. This is the call to love yourself, of self discovery. This is how I am learning to love and trust myself. I am one of the wild now and I will never look back.