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idkyetxoxo · 9 days

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Davos Blackwood - Carnal Feuds

Summary - When a Bracken girl accidentally enters Blackwood territory, she meets Davos Blackwood. What begins as a fierce argument quickly evolves, as their long-standing rivalry erupts into a carnal clash for each other's bodies.

Pairing - Davos Blackwood x Bracken reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!!), Strong language

Word count - 2317

Masterlist for Davos • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

The sun was setting slowly, casting a golden hue across the horizon. The mid-summer days were warm, accompanied by a slight cool breeze that provided a welcome relief. I decided to take a short walk through the fields and forests, savouring the tranquillity of nature.

As I strolled along, a rustling noise caught my attention, followed by the sound of soft whimpers.

Curiosity piqued, I walked further to locate the source of the noise. There, hidden among the tall grass, was a small baby deer, a fawn, who seemed to be injured. I frowned, glancing around to see if anyone else was nearby, but the area was deserted.

"Poor baby," I muttered, watching with sadness as the young fawn writhed in pain. Spots of crimson stained its fur around the belly, a contrast to its soft brown coat.

I took careful steps, attempting to approach the fawn without startling it. To my misfortune, the young fawn's attention snapped towards me. She startled and bolted through the forest, her legs clearly still functional despite her injury.

"Wait!" I called out, attempting to chase after her as best I could in a dress and flats.

It felt as if I was running forever, darting around trees and ducking under low-hanging branches. Eventually, I had to stop to catch my breath. The fawn was completely out of sight and as I took in my surroundings, I realized with a sinking feeling that I didn't recognize the area.

"Seven hells," I mumbled, realizing I was now alone and lost in unfamiliar territory.

The sound of twigs snapping nearby caused me to turn around, hoping it was the fawn. Instead, I saw a man approaching cautiously. My smile faded as he drew nearer.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his posture immediately defensive.

My stomach dropped when I noticed the colours of his clothes and the sigil sewn into his cape. "Blackwood," I whispered, the words tumbling from my lips before I could stop them.

He took a step back, his eyes scanning me from top to bottom. "Bracken?" he questioned, and I neither confirmed nor denied his assumption.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as his hand found its way to the hilt of the sword he carried.

"I stumbled upon here by accident. I was chasing after an injured fawn," I explained, realizing I wasn't exactly in a favourable position.

"I don't see an injured fawn," he said, gesturing around with his free hand. "Were you perhaps spying?" he questioned, and I shot him an incredulous look.

"Spying?" I echoed, and he nodded as if his words made complete sense.

"This is Blackwood land," he explained, and I scoffed.

"Would I be spying in laces and flats?" I asked, turning my head to the side and gesturing towards my clothes as if his suggestion was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard.

"Yes, who knows what you Brackens are willing to do," he said, taking a step towards me. "Perhaps it is a ploy to send a young, pretty girl to do their dirty work," he continued, and I laughed mockingly.

"Don't be ridiculous. It's you Blackwoods who resort to petty games," I said, crossing my arms.

"Forgive me, but shouldn't the Brackens be more concerned with breeding horses than claiming territory," he spat, and I rolled my eyes, taking a step towards him.

The tension between us was a tangible force that crackled in the air. We stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills, each unwilling to back down daring the other to yield first.

"You Blackwoods are always so self-righteous," I shot back, my voice dripping with disdain. "Always thinking you're better than everyone else."

"And you Brackens are always so arrogant," he retorted, his eyes narrowing. "Always causing trouble where there doesn't need to be any."

I stepped closer, my chin tilted defiantly. "Maybe if you Blackwoods weren't so insufferable, there wouldn't be any trouble."

He matched my step, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and something else I couldn't quite identify. "Insufferable? You're the ones who can't seem to mind your own affairs."

We were inches apart now, the heat of our argument burning between us. "At least we know how to stand up for ourselves," I spat, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Standing up for yourselves?" he scoffed. "More like picking fights, you can't win."

I could feel his breath on my face, our proximity igniting a strange, electric tension. "Better to pick a fight than to cower behind your precious lands," I countered, my voice shaking with emotion.

He opened his mouth to retort, but the words seemed to die on his lips as his gaze flickered to my own. The anger in his eyes softened for just a moment, replaced by a flicker of confusion and something else entirely.

"You're impossible," he whispered, his voice suddenly husky.

"And you're insufferable," I replied, my voice barely more than a breath.

In that charged moment, something shifted. The fire of our argument morphed into a different kind of heat. Without thinking, without fully understanding why, we both leaned in, closing the final inches between us.

Our lips met in a fierce, urgent kiss, the intensity of our argument bleeding into the passion of the moment.

His hands found their way to my waist, pulling me closer, while my fingers tangled in his hair. The world around us faded away, leaving only the sensation of his lips on mine, the taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against me.

We kissed with a desperation that spoke of years of rivalry, of pent-up emotion and unspoken desires. It was as if all the animosity between our families had culminated in this one, fiery moment. We broke apart, gasping for breath, our foreheads resting against each other.

"What are we doing?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

He shook his head slightly, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I don't want to stop."

And with that, we were drawn back together, our lips meeting once more in a kiss that defied the world outside, a kiss that spoke of a thousand unspoken words.

His hands roamed over my back, gripping the fabric of my dress, pulling me even closer. The heat between us was unbearable, a mix of anger and desire that neither of us could resist. He broke the kiss briefly to look into my eyes, his breath ragged.

He shook off his cape laying it down on the forest floor, a rough, makeshift bed in the clearing.

The sun was setting behind us, casting a warm glow over the scene, but all I could focus on was him.

He pulled me down onto the cape, our bodies entwined in a feverish dance. His hands were everywhere, exploring, caressing, claiming. I responded in kind, my fingers trailing over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his clothes. The heat between us grew more intense, more urgent.

We stripped away the barriers of fabric between us, the cool evening air a contrast to the burning heat of our skin. Our movements were rough, desperate, as if we were trying to erase the years of animosity with our bodies.

His hands gripped my hips tightly, his touch both possessive and demanding. I arched against him, my nails digging into his shoulders as I fought to pull him closer.

"Fuck, you damn Brackens," he growled, his eyes raking across my naked body with a fierce hunger.

"Fuck you Blackwoods," I mumbled, grabbing him by the nape of his neck and pulling him towards me.

He laughed suddenly, the sound low and rough, causing me to furrow my brows. He kissed down my body, his lips leaving a burning trail on my skin.

"Yet you're about to fuck this Blackwood," he said, parting my legs and positioning himself at my entrance.

I sat up slightly, closing my legs and causing him to look at me with confusion. "Not until you earn it," I taunted, my voice trembling with a mix of defiance and desire.

His eyes darkened with a challenge accepted, and he pushed me back down, his mouth crashing onto mine with renewed fervour. Our bodies collided with a rough, desperate need, hands grasping, teeth grazing, nails scratching. The pain and pleasure intertwined, fueling the fire between us.

"You're so stubborn," he muttered against my lips, his breath hot and ragged.

"Mhm I've been told," I retorted, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him closer.

He thrust into me with a force that made me gasp, my back arching off the ground. Every thrust was a battle, every gasp a victory.

The roughness of our movements was both punishing and exhilarating, a raw expression of our pent-up emotions. We moved together in a frenzy, each seeking to dominate, to claim, to conquer.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his hands gripping my hips as he drove into me relentlessly.

"Yes," I gasped, meeting his thrusts with equal fervour. "Harder."

He obliged, his pace becoming almost brutal, the intensity of our connection overwhelming. The forest around us seemed to disappear, leaving only the sounds of our ragged breaths and the slap of our bodies against each other.

Our eyes locked, as our bodies continued their frantic dance. The roughness of our encounter mirrored the years of conflict between our families, the unspoken hatred and undeniable attraction coming to a head in this one, fevered moment.

"Fuck," he hissed, his voice a mix of frustration and awe. "You're incredible."

"Thought I was arrogant and impossible," I managed to retort, my voice strained as his hand snaked to my shoulder, forcing me to match the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Doesn't mean you don't feel incredible around my cock," he replied, a slight edge of laughter colouring his tone.

I gasped as a shuddering sensation consumed my body. His grip on my shoulder tightened, guiding me to move with him in perfect, punishing synchrony.

"You like it rough, don't you?" he taunted, his voice a husky whisper in my ear.

I bit my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a verbal response. Instead, I arched my back, pressing my hips harder against him, meeting his challenge head-on. The friction, the force, the unrelenting passion was almost too much to bear.

"Admit it," he demanded, his hand slipping between us to tease me mercilessly. "Admit you love it."

I cried out, the combined sensations pushing me closer to the brink. "Yes," I finally gasped, my voice breaking. "Yes, I love it."

His eyes darkened with triumph, and he drove into me with renewed fervour, the intensity of our movements increasing. His hands roamed my body, gripping my hips, sliding up to my breasts, and then tangling in my hair as he pulled me closer.

"So headstrong," he muttered, his teeth grazing my neck as he thrust into me with relentless force.

"Whiny much," I shot back, my nails raking down his back, leaving a trail of red welts.

His response was a low growl, and he shifted our positions, rolling us over so that I was straddling him. He gripped my thighs tightly, guiding me to ride him with the same rough intensity. The new angle drove him deeper.

I leaned forward, my hands on his chest for support, and began moving my hips in a rhythm that matched his thrusts. The friction was exquisite, every stroke igniting sparks.

"Harder," he urged, his voice strained with desire.

I complied, increasing the pace, my movements becoming more frenzied. Our bodies collided in a fevered dance, his hands gripped my hips again, guiding me to ride him faster, harder.

He surged upward, capturing my lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth with the same fierce intensity as our bodies. The kiss was a battle for dominance, our teeth clashing, our tongues duelling. I moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled by our fervent kiss.

Breaking the kiss, he flipped us over again, pinning me beneath him. He drove into me with a force that made me cry out. His hand moved between us, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves that sent me spiralling towards the edge.

"Cum for me," he whispered, his voice a rough command. "Cum for this Blackwood."

The combination of his words and his relentless thrusts pushed me over the edge. My orgasm crashed over me, waves of pleasure radiating through my body. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders as I convulsed around him.

With a final, powerful thrust, he followed me into bliss, his own release tearing a groan from his lips. He collapsed onto me, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths coming in harsh, uneven gasps.

For a long moment, we lay there, entangled and spent, the reality of what had just happened slowly sinking in.

As the haze of passion began to clear, he propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at me with a mixture of satisfaction and uncertainty. His fingers traced a path along my collarbone.

"Get off our land, Bracken," he finally said, his voice a low rumble.

I sat up slowly, deliberately, pulling my dress back on with movements that were unhurried and intentional. The fabric felt cool against my overheated skin.

I couldn't help but let my gaze linger on him, taking in the sight of his dishevelled hair, the glistening sweat on his chest, and the look of lingering desire in his eyes.

"Gladly," I whispered, narrowing my eyes as I stood up, my voice laced with defiance.

The power dynamics between us shifted constantly, a dance of dominance and submission that neither of us was willing to concede.

"Till we meet again," he called out as I began to walk away, his voice filled with a challenge that was impossible to ignore.

A satisfied smirk played on my lips as I walked backwards, my eyes never leaving his. "Whatever you say, Blackwood," I responded, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

I knew full well that after what had just happened, neither of us would be able to keep to our respective lands.

A/n - It's kinda giving Romeo and Juliet

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd one shot #hotd season 2 #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd s2 #team black #davos blackwood #davos x reader #davos blackwood x reader #benjicot blackwood #house blackwood #benjicot x reader #bloody ben

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jamie-leah · 8 months

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Lifeline

Bucky x Reader Fic

Oneshot? Series? You tell me...

Summary: You have a past that you're running from and maybe Bucky can be the lifeline you had no idea you were searching for.

Word Count: 1,809

Warnings: Mentions of physical abusive, Abusive relationship, descriptions of panic attack, rusty writing, fluff

A/N: Thought I would dip my toe back in the water, see how you're all doing? Feel free to tell me if you want more and feel free to make requests. I need to get back into the swing of things!

Next Part--->

Masterlist of Masterlists

It’s been two months, and he still hasn’t found you yet. Despite the nightmares and the hypervigilance, you would call that a win. It’s the longest he’s gone without finding you. Maybe he’s given up? But deep down you know that isn’t the case. You humiliated him when you ran, left in the middle of the night without a word to anyone. There would be questions from the neighbours, friends and family. He would never let a slight like that go, and you know it.

The bell dings above the door in the diner you’ve been working at since you arrived in New York. It brings you out of your head and into the present, to see Bucky walk through the door. You hadn’t realised that it was that time in your shift, looking over to the clock to confirm that it was in fact nine at night.

You give him a smile. A small one, but the most genuine you’ve been able to manage since running from your ex almost a year ago now. He returns a full watt smile of his own. A smile you never see him give to anyone else, but you don’t look too deeply into that considering you’ve never seen him outside of this diner.

He sits at the bar upfront to the counter where you already have his black coffee waiting, “you fancy any food? Kitchen is closing soon”, you ask.

“I’ll take a plate of fries if there’s any going?”, his voice sending a tiny shiver down your spine that makes your toes curl ever so slightly. You are aware of this growing attraction you have to him since he started to come in here regularly a week after you started. And you hadn’t thought about anyone like that since...well since you started your relationship with Andrew around seven years ago.

Bucky never said much the first few times he came in. He would just nurse a few cups of coffee at night and then leave but after two weeks like that he caught you on a particularly rough day. You were in the middle of a panic attack when he jumped into action and calmed you down and stared anyone down who might have looked or said anything.

Since then, the damn broke and while you may have not told him about your ex, you both shared some personal titbits that would probably qualify you as friends rather than acquaintances. And ever since that time you told him you hadn’t had time for a break or a bite to eat, he orders fries and makes you share with him. He feigns that the portions are too big, and he needs your help to finish them off, but you know better. You don’t say otherwise, you’re grateful either way.

When you place the fries in front of him, he asks, “busy tonight?”

You shake your head as you pop a fry into your mouth, “not really. It’s always quiet on a Tuesday. How was your day? Save anyone today?”

Bucky rolls his eyes at you. You had no idea who he was when he first came in. And Bucky still had to spell out who he was and why people stared at him in the diner. You were vaguely aware of superheroes, but Andrew kept you rather sheltered so you never knew who they were or the politics of them all.

Bucky grabs the ketchup and squirts some on your side of the plate and some on his, “no missions today. You know I’m gone for a while when I am.”

You sigh, because yes you do know he’s gone for a while when he has missions and its usually the longest days or sometimes weeks without him coming in every day.

You shrug, “I don’t know, there was that time you saved someone from a car explosion on your way here.”

You smirk as he groans at the mention of his heroics, “that was one time! I can’t believe that even showed on the news.”

You throw a fry at his face, “I can’t believe I had to find out from the news! You didn’t say a word the entire time you sat here.”

You laugh as you see a familiar blush creep up from his neck and blooms on his sharp cheeks, “I didn’t think it was a big deal”, he mumbles out.

Someone walks in through the door, the familiar bell ringing. You walk from behind the counter as they take a seat at a booth. You squeeze Bucky’s shoulder as you pass by and murmur, “everything you do is a big deal to me.”

You don’t wait for his reply or even a reaction as you head over to the couple talking quietly. You take their order and head over to the back and shout through to Kevin, “hey Kev, you got time for one more food order?”

He pokes his head from the back, “sure thing”

You pass him the slip and turn back to Bucky about to say something when a smash comes from the kitchen. You duck. No time to think, your body reacts on instinct, preparing for the worst while try to dodge the inevitable violence that is always directed at you.

You stay crouched on the floor frozen in place, trapped in your mind at a time when you burned dinner for Andrew, and he threw places and cups all around the kitchen. Curled up on the floor, arms over your head trying to stop any shards from catching your face. You had to pick a few from your arms when he finally calmed down and left to go to the bar.

Warm hands reach out to hold your face steady. You didn’t know your body was shaking until those hands held your face. So gentle in their touch you know they can’t be Andrew’s. You peek your eyes open and see beautiful, plump lips moving, forming shapes that should come out as words, but you don’t hear anything. Just rushing in your ears.

It isn’t until your eyes glide up to the steel blue of Bucky’s that you let the air back into your lungs, the roaring subsiding until you hear his quiet murmurs, “you’re here, you’re safe with me. Come back to me.”

Bucky feels you return to yourself more as your eyes dart around and your hands come to grip his tightly which are still holding your face. You manage a strangled, “I’m sorry” before your throat closes again.

Bucky shakes his head, “nothing to apologise for.”

When your whole body stops shaking, Bucky guides you back to a standing position. You glance over the counter, and no one is looking. They had no idea that your whole world suddenly came to a stop. No idea that you practically broke down over a broken plate in the kitchen.

Bucky pulls your gaze back to his, “you with me?”

You nod slowly, still not trusting your voice.

Kevin puts the plates of food down on in the window without even looking before heading back to the kitchen. You reach out, your hands still shaking to take the plates but Bucky captures your hands with his. He links them for a few moments before placing them back at your sides. He takes the plates and heads over to the table you took the order from and delivers them with the fakest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.

His false cheeriness is what starts to bring you back to yourself as you raise your eyebrows at his return, “why don’t you ever greet me like that?”

He laughs, his head tipping back as he takes his seat again, “because you’re special.”

“That’s what you say to all the girls”, you reply.

And just like that the incident is gone. Not forgotten though, you don’t miss the way Bucky watches you more closely, the corners of his mouth set slightly lower now that he’s reminded of how broken you really are. He doesn’t ask, and you’re grateful for that. You’re not ready to talk about the monster that you try pretending doesn’t exist. But you never forget either.

Bucky stays with you for the rest of your shift. He stands behind you like a bodyguard as you lock up the diner at one in the morning, just when the clubs really start getting busy. He makes a point to walk you all the way back to your apartment building and you don’t miss the frown he always gives it.

You bump his arm with your shoulder, “it's not as bad as it looks, you know.”

His face scrunches up, “if you say so. Still don’t like the thought of leaving you here though.”

You bump into him again with a small smile, “careful Buck, some people might think you’ve gone soft.”

You see his mouth twitch upwards as he replies, “only for some people.”

You stare into the eyes that are staring back at you. You can feel them trying to tell you something, but you can’t quite understand. Or maybe you don’t want to because it doesn’t make sense. Someone like you doesn’t get to be happy, someone like you doesn’t get someone like him. You’ve never been that lucky.

A horn blare down the street, as people whoop from the windows. It breaks the spell as you both turn to look with a small chuckle.

“I better get inside, I’m beat.” You tell him as you point to your building.

Bucky clears his throat, “Uh, yeah, definitely. I might be gone for a couple of days. A few things I need to take care of but I’m back on your day off...fancy hanging out?”

The question almost trails off, but his stare remains intense. It dries up your throat as you open it and close it like a fish for a few moments.

“It’s okay if you had plans, I just thought it might be nice to do something outside the diner and-”

“I’d love to.”

“And I was thinking we could- wait, really?” He looks to you as if he’s waiting for the punchline and it makes your heart ache.

You give him a warm smile, “I’d love to do something. Despite being here for a few months, I haven’t seen much of New York so will be nice to get out with someone that knows it well.”

His face splits in two to let out a huge smile, “Okay...okay, I’ll text you when I’m back?”

You give him a nod and a shy smile, “yeah, sounds good. Goodnight Bucky.”

His smile is so wide you don’t think he’ll be able to get any words out, so you turn and walk into your building, only glancing back once the elevator doors open to see him still stood there, smiling.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #bucky #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky masterlist #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky fandom

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afreakingdork · 5 months

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Yeah, I'm not taking this sitting down. Man, I really am not trying to have beef out here, but I refuse to have my good fucking name tarnished. To make a public post about me? Yeah, I'm going to share my side. The facts are as such:

I approached wolf on 12/20/23 about a NSFW commission inspired by one of their works. It would feature my sona and an aged up Donnie. As they mentioned, our initial conversation was good. We went back and forth during the sketch phase and I requested quite a lot of edits. I asked if I could pay them for these corrections.

it was right after this that wolf asked about Donnie's battle shell since it wasn't illustrated.

After this message, I did not hear back from wolf after 2/9/24 until I sent them a follow-up message 3/27/24

I did not hear back from wolf until today 5/6/24.

Now I cannot share the images of the art I received because it is NSFW, but I can tell you that the grey from my sona's body appeared to be missing. The ears of my sona were grey, but the body only looked yellow. Donnie was missing his purple arm marks, and his knee pads were still the same only now they were colored in black along with his mask. From here I will just send the conversation in its entirety.

For reference, this was the reference sheet they had.

I was then sent two pieces where the grey on my sona was very obvious and Donnie's markings were now present with the following text.

Now again, I wish I could show you the pieces, but I can't. I was offered a 50% refund for my troubles, but I was not interested in taking it because wolf had already done all the work.

I will say that I was extremely frustrated with the whole affair so the next part I will admit was a bit salty because while corrections had been made, I wasn't able to give any input so there were still mistakes in my sona's colors (specifically the underside of the tail was yellow instead of white and my grey arm had one side yellow) and Donnie's mask was still black. The following is our last correspondence on my blog.

This would have been the end of it for me. Except, I did not get the email. I waited in hopes it would come in, but none did. Since I was blocked I was forced to reach out from one of my side blogs @thisgoesouttoyoubaby which feel free to check. it's my reblog sideblog that I use to send my bestie memes. It dates back YEARS and is not used for spam.

As you can see I was blocked here.

Now I have been refreshing my email feed waiting. I know emails can take time, but I have no way to confirm if I'm getting my work because I was immediately blocked on thisgoesouttoyou with no response.

So I used another sideblog, this time @plowingon which you can again, freely search, its not a spam blog, but a blog I once made to record the live of my old german shepherd I had years ago when he was getting older.

And wouldn't you know it, I got my first email from wolf at

Coincidentally, only after I sent my last message to them.

Now I'm not interested in hurting wolf's reputation. I think you should still commission them if you'd like. I still am a fan of their art. I have no ill will, but fuck if I will stand by as someone tells me that I won't pay an artist. I never even said i wouldn't pay. I was just frustrated because they wouldn't follow their own three correction rule. They allowed me no recourse, and then they were petty before I could even confirm that I received the email.

Could I have been nicer?

Of course.

Could I have been more clear?

Absolutely.

But there is no world in which I tried to gaslight anyone. I pride myself on my honesty. I was not shy when paying them. I sent payment before we even began. I offered to pay them more and acknowledged I was a needy customer halfway through. So I apologize for this long post, but I wanted to make sure all of this was visible because how dare you call me a scammer, wolf.

You disappoint me.

#me #reply #replies #commission #call out #commissioner alert

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teriri-sayes · 10 months

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Reactions to the Lone Flame's Chapter 215

TL;DR - Gashan can't use his shaman powers too. Story about how dragons became gods. Village chief does not know someone named CJG. Subjugation force will arrive in 3 days.

More Power Restrictions Mana and aura were not the only powers that were restricted. Gashan confirmed that he could not use his shaman powers/power of nature. So this brings us to the question: What about Cale's ancient powers? Unfortunately, the author did not mention anything about the ancient powers for the past chapters.

Dragons as Gods We got more world-building today, so I'll summarize it all in a story format:

This tale begins at the time when the weather drastically changed, and powers like mana and aura became unusable. These drastic changes brought about chaos to the world, and was thus referred to as the period of cataclysm.

There existed a place called the Free City of Gonia, which was rumored to be founded by people with dragon blood, the so-called half-blood dragons. During the cataclysm, the free city asked help from their dragon protectors for a solution.

The dragons responded to their pleas, and roamed around the world, helping in stabilizing the chaos. They repaired places where mana and aura became unusable, and stopped the beastkin who had fallen into madness. Their powers and attributes also helped alleviate the drastic weather changes.

Hence, people all over the world began to praise and worship the dragons. Their faith in the gods wavered, for the temples were rife with corruption, and the gods seemingly did not listen to their cries for help.

The Free City of Gonia renamed themselves as the Holy City, expanding its territory and openly declaring the worship of dragons as gods. However, the last emperor of the Har Empire vehemently opposed it.

The last emperor of the Har Empire and the last Archduke Snow secretly believed that it was actually the dragons who caused the cataclysm in their desire to become gods. But the world thought the Har Empire's opposition was because they were afraid to lose its status as a powerful nation, and the prestige of their first emperor, who was a dragon slayer, from falling.

War took place. The dragons abstained from joining the war, and only the ones said to be half-blood dragons participated. And in that war, the last emperor and the last Archduke Snow passed away.

The Har Empire was demoted to a kingdom, and fled to the north. The Holy City seized control of the Har Empire's territory, once again renaming themselves as the Holy Empire.

The Holy Empire declared to its neighbor countries that they would maintain friendly relations as long as they accepted the worship of dragons in their countries. They even offered their assistance in solving the chaos brought about by the cataclysm.

Thus, no country opposed the Holy Empire. And true to their word, the Holy Empire did assist other countries that asked for help, sending out dragons to resolve their problems. Dragon worship further spread to the world.

Other Answers to Cale's Questions As for Cale's other questions, CJG seemed to have disguised himself here, so the village chief did not know anyone of that name. But the village chief did keep a record of strangers who entered their village, so they would have to check that for any CJG clues.

The subjugation force was expected to arrive in 3 days, and Eruhaben expressed his worry about the enemies finding out about them. But Cale even welcomed it, saying that because they lacked information, they could just capture the subjugation force and interrogate them. Yes, typical Cale. 😂

Ending Remarks Nothing exciting happened again today. It's just info dump and more name reveals. The wolf beastkin among the villagers was called Koukan, and the village's name was Wins Village. Frankly, it feels weird? Back in the murim arc, we would have gotten lots of named characters already, but this time, only one person had been named. Village chief is still called village chief or elder, though it was revealed that he was a descendant from the butler family that served Archduke Snow.

Anyway, next chapter is either the villagers meeting Lock, or Cale's group capturing the subjugation force. And hopefully, we get an answer if Cale can use his ancient powers here.

#tcf spoilers #trash of the count's family

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takiberry · 11 months

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Nasty | Asakura Jo

[ this part contains smut of asakura jo of &team, if you are uncomfortable with such do not proceed. ]

WARNING: fingering, car sex, exhibition, jo is more on the quiet side and has a fat cawk, harua’s watching lol 💭

PAIRING: JO x READER.

-🍚

“uhh.. are you comfortable?” jo asked you as he shifted a bit to fix his position, you gasped when you felt him brush against you, nodding slowly at him as you kept scrolling through your phone, you took out the other airpod from your case and handed it to jo, who looked a little confused before putting it into his ear. “what are we gonna listen too..” he asked, his soft voice sounded like heaven to you, it’s crazy how unreal he looked up close, you’d be lying if you say you wouldn’t let him hit it. “oh uh.. nasty by ariana grande..” you replied back to him as you turned on the song, turning off your phone to set in the cup holder next to you and jo, before shifting on his lap a little, he sucked in a breath before holding you still , a little confused as to why he did that, you attempted to shift again, his grip tightened before he held you down on his lap. “don’t.. don’t move.. please..” he said quietly as if he was holding back on something, it clicked when you felt something poke at your inner thigh, making a face of realization. luckily the car was dark and everyone was asleep with their music blasting in their ears. ( or so you thought. )

“are you…?” you asked to make confirmation, jo felt his face heat up as he mentally cursed to himself. “uhm.. yeah.. i am, sorry if it makes you uncomfortable..” jo started to ramble a bit, afraid that you’d think he’s weird, you shook your head and pressed yourself against his bulge, causing him to hiss a bit. is this really gonna happen? jo kept thinking about it and how you both might get caught in the act, fortunately the drive home was two hours so time wouldn’t be a problem. but jo kept thinking about how one of his friends could just wake up at any moment and catch you in the act, for some reason he didn’t mind if someone were to catch you or watch, it just turned him on even more. jo’s hand found its way up your skirt as his fingers pushed your panties to the side, teasing them against your folds, he doesn’t care about the fact you’ve known each other for a short while. one thing he knew is that he wanted and needed you. bad.

his fingers kept teasing against your folds before he slipped two inside you, chuckling darkly at how you gasped, about to moan before his free hand came in contact with your mouth, covering it to prevent you from waking anyone. “we can’t have you be loud.” jo said as his tone was dark, pumping his fingers in and out of you at a quick pace, he thanked the heavens that nobody could hear, the aircon blowing its’ loud air along with some semi loud music plus his friends wearing earbuds, or so he thought all of them were wearing earbuds. little did you know that harua was right next to jo, no earbuds and was wide awake, and was completely watching you and jo. harua felt it was wrong to watch but he couldn’t help it, what was happening in front of him was sending him into a frenzy. his hand finding itself in his shorts and palming at his own cock. surely jo wouldn’t mind if harua got off to this, right? not like he even knows he’s awake anyway.

jo kept pumping his fingers at the same pace, lifting you slightly to slide his shorts down enough to pull out his own cock, he pulled out his fingers and licked on them as he placed you onto his cock, not pushing himself in just yet, he wanted to get your juices on him first. placing his hand back onto your mouth, he holds your hip with the hand he had just licked clean, making you grind against his cock. the feeling had him tilting his head back with a sigh, his eyes squeezing shut as he made you grind down on him faster, feeling your juices coat his cock perfectly. harua nearly choked on his moan as he watch how easily your folds just slip against jo’s cock, his hand now past his boxers, and around his cock, pumping at it slowly, jo lifted you up slightly with his single hand, removing the hand covering your mouth to help push his cock inside your pussy. you gasped and moaned out only for it to get quickly muffled by jo’s hand yet again, he gave you a look and fully pushed his cock inside you. the feeling was amazing, it felt as if he was made for you.

jo looked at you for confirmation to start moving, you nodded at him and it was lik something snapped right at that moment for him, he started to snap his hips up into you, the feeling of his cock being buried deep in you had him going insane, all morals of anyone seeing or hearing you flew out of his pretty little head. his head thrown back against the seat as he repeatedly fucked his cock into your hole as if it was his fleshlight, harua pumped his cock faster as he watched, his breathing getting a little heavy as he attempted to keep quiet as to not get caught by you both. your moans were kep muffled against jo’s large palm as his thrusts got more powerful, caring less that the wet sounds of his cock fucking itself into you and the skin slapping could wake someone. he gently pushed you up against the back of the seat in front of you both, lifting your skirt as he watched his cock disappear in you. harua choked yet again on a moan as he saw, his hand staggering as he basically fucks himself with his hand, imagining how it’d be like to be in jo’s position.

jo kept fucking cock into you relentlessly, his hand holding you up slightly just so he can continue watching how his cock disappears inside you so swiftly, his heavy breathing driving you insane. two guys in one night was overwhelming already, and who knows what’ll happen after this. will they still talk to you or will they act like nothing happened? those thoughts slipped your mind as you felt his thrusts get sloppier, signaling that he was close and you were too, you wanted to almost scream out his name for how good he was fucking you despite being in a car. unbeknownst to you that harua was still furiously pumping at his own cock at the scene, his head tilted back and quiet heavy breathing, oh how badly he wanted to be in jo’s position. jo buried his face into your back, his thrusts getting more sloppy and staggering before releasing his cum in you, causing you to break and cum all over his cock.

you both breathed heavily as jo pulled out, pulling your panties back to its original position, trapping his seed in you, you shivered and leaned against his chest after he pulled his shorts back up. harua had already came in his hand, quickly cleaning himself up with his sweat towel before acting as if he was sleeping the entire time. jo fell asleep with his head on your shoulder before you fell asleep along with him. you would definitely do this again.

and you probably will, but it won’t be with jo, for now at least.

🍊ONE MORE HOUR | BYUN EUIJOO

🐰DEEP | SHIGETA HARUA

🐥 SEXTAPE | TAKAYMA RIKI

TAGLIST: 🍚

#renè’s talking teddy 🧸#renè is taki’s bby🐰#renè’s 🍓 anons!#&team smut #&team hard hours #&team hard thoughts #asakura jo smut #asakura jo x reader #kinktober

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Note

i am alrREADY SENDING IN MY REQUEST SO I DONT FORGET AND I NEED THIS

Peanut Butter Cup - Nerds

IM SO EXCITED.

Fake dating/Bookworm!Reader/Steve Harrington

Warnings: fake dating, Harrington familial dysfunction, drunk family members

WC: 1.1k

Divider credit to @saradika

Steve had heard it all from his parents:

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend yet?”

“Just go out on a date, Steven.”

“You spend all damn day at that video store; you’re never gonna meet anyone that way.”

He normally shrugs it off, until his parents give him an ultimatum: get a girlfriend before the annual Harrington Family Reunion in two weeks, or don’t bother showing up at all.

“Twenty years old, and you barely passed high school, work a dead-end job, and don’t even have a girlfriend,” his father mutters, disgust marring his features. “You’re a disappointment.”

The insult reverberates around his skull all day: disappointment, disappointment, disappointment. It’s not the first time his father has hurled the term his way, and it likely won’t be the last, but the impact continues to sting.

It’s still gnawing at him when you walk in the door, sliding a VHS copy of The Shining across the counter with a bashful smile.

“Sorry, I know it’s a day late,” you apologize, already digging into your bag for change. “How much is the fee?”

Steve dismisses the notion with a wave. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, already checking the movie back into the system. “You, uh, went to Hawkins High, right?”

“Mhm,” you confirm, zipping up your purse and hitching it back up your shoulder, “class of ‘86.”

“‘85,” he chirps, clearing his throat to temper his enthusiasm. “Anyway, hope the movie was good.”

You nod and smile again; the gentle upturn of your lips has Steve melting. “It was. The book was better, though.”

And that’s when Steve finally places you: back in high school, you volunteered at the school library and, on more than one occasion, had helped him find a book for research projects. You were pretty then, and you’re even prettier now.

“I haven’t read the book,” he admits, embarrassed that he hasn’t read much of anything besides a comic book or two since graduation.

Your jaw drops. “Well, now you have to!” You grab your car keys from your back pocket. “I’ll swing by tomorrow with my copy, if that’s cool?”

“Y-Yeah, ‘s cool,” he stutters, giving his head a soft shake to shift the hair from his hazel eyes. He watches as you walk out of the store, the sway of your hips drawing him in.

He probably would have stared forever if Robin hadn’t cut in. “Hey, Dingus, you’re drooling.”

You stop by Family Video the next day to drop off the book. And then a few days after that, you go there again to grab another movie. Soon enough, you’re a regular customer.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Steve blurts out from where he’s standing next to you as you peruse the horror section. “Feel free to say no, to tell me to fuck off, and I will. I will just…fuck right off.”

“Shoot.”

“Could you pretend to be my girlfriend at my family reunion next weekend? Nothing weird,” he rushes to add, not wanting to imply any unwanted contact. “Just hand holding, arm around your shoulder…no feels will be copped, I swear.”

You pinch your eyebrows, perplexed. “Is this the trade-off for having my late fee waived?” you tease, thumbing The Exorcist and tugging it from its spot on the shelf. “Because I’ll pay it.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, just tired of hearing my folks complain about me not having my life together. Figured if I showed up with a smart, pretty girl on my arm, they’d shut up for a little while.”

Your face burns at the compliments, both at the words and that King Steve is the one saying them. “What’s the dress code?”

You and Steve arrive in his Beemer, his hand already pressed to the small of your back as you walk into the restaurant. A room filled with Harringtons greet you as you enter the room, and your stomach flips as you wonder if you can pull this off.

“Showtime,” Steve murmurs in your ear, taking you around the room to meet his family. You’re suddenly self-conscious of where your black dress lands on your thighs and the cut of the neckline. Sure, Steve had approved it, but what did he know?

You note that he’s been gazing at you since he’d picked you up earlier, eyes drawn to you like a magnetic force. It’s part of the whole bit, you try and convince yourself, but something nags at you that Steve isn’t that good of an actor.

The conversations go as easily as they can; you spend the evening peppering in “facts” about your relationship that you and Steve had rehearsed over and over. Some of the details were truthful, like meeting at Family Video and bonding over horror movies. Other parts were much more embellished: relationship duration, your first date, the way Steve bragged that you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on.

It’s smooth sailing until Steve’s inebriated father stands up, clumsily clinking his knife to his wine glass. “I’d like to make a toast,” he slurs, swaying as he speaks, “to my son, Steve, and his girl! Never thought I’d see the day he’d land someone like her.”

Your eyes remain glued to the floor, waiting for the moment to be over, but if the impromptu speech wasn’t awkward enough, one of Steve’s equally drunk uncles calls out, “Give her a kiss, Stevie!”

Steve shakes his head with an uncomfortable chuckle. “Nah, we’re not really into the public–”

“Aw, c’mon!” His boisterous voice echoes throughout the restaurant. “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” he chants, and soon enough, most of the family joins in.

“Shall we shut them up?” Steve mumbles, turning to you. “Y’don’t have to…”

“N-No, we can.” It’s not the most conventional first kiss, but then again, nothing about this arrangement is normal. “We can just…”

Steve’s hand is on your cheek, nose nudging against yours as your lips press together. This isn’t a simple peck; no, it’s far more involved, more intimate, than you had anticipated.

You melt into him a bit more, resting your own hand on his bicep until the kiss comes to an end. The men hoot and holler; the women exchange awws.

“Now that,” Steve’s dad guffaws, clapping a hand on his son’s back, “is the kiss of true love!”

You manage a small smile, wondering exactly what just happened. The kiss was the best of your life, and it was supposedly just for show.

Steve’s breath tickles your earlobe as he whispers, “he may be drunk, but he’s not wrong.” His cheeks are pink at the admission.

It’s certainly a conversation you’ll need to have later, but you can’t say you disagree. For now, your fingers intertwine with his, and you give them a quick squeeze.

Maybe it’s the wine, but you swear you love him back.

#trope or treat #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things

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flowerandblood · 1 year

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The Impossible Choice (39)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, mention of cuts and profanation ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

After her confession he took her during the night slowly and gently, drawing out her words of her love for him again and again. She felt heat each time she uttered them, as if she was putting on some kind of spell that only they understood.

She knew that after what she had said to him, he would not be able to send her away.

He would not be able to part with her.

The next day, just at dawn, they were awakened by a servant entering their tent without asking, finding them cuddled together, completely bare. She squealed quietly, immediately covering herself with furs, feeling ashamed not because she had no clothes on, but because someone besides her husband could see her wounds and scars.

She watched uncertainly as her husband stood up quickly, dressing his breeches, seeing that a servant had come with a message. She saw him impatiently reach out his hand for the letter and unrolled it − he quickly read its contents and tore it to pieces, his lips tightened.

"Bring my armour." He said lowly, the servant nodded quickly and left their tent, leaving them alone.

She blinked, swallowing hard, sitting down on the bedding, still covering herself with furs.

"What does the message say?" She asked quietly. Her husband pressed his lips together.

"There is no turning back now." He said coolly, glancing at her of the corner of his eye.

She felt a shiver go through her at the realisation that a real war was beginning.

Now that she was with child, when she should be strong, she was at her most vulnerable.

Her husband's voice snapped her out of these gloomy thoughts.

"Meet me at sunset on the hill by Vhagar's lair. Don't take anyone with you. Do you know where it is?" He asked, dressing quickly his tunic and she blinked, surprised by his words.

What was he trying to do?

Her heart pounded in horror at the thought that perhaps he wanted to run away.

No, she thought.

He would never do that.

"Yes… something has happened? What are you going to do?" She asked in a slightly trembling voice, looking at him uncertainly. Her husband gave her a proud, dark look from which she felt uncomfortable.

"We'll get married."

She looked at him as if she hadn't understood the meaning of his words, confused, wondering if she had misheard.

What did he mean?

"I… forgive me, I don't understand. We are married." She said quietly, wondering if she had missed something. Her husband hummed under his breath, tying tunic.

"Not in the face of my gods." He said, casting her a careful, proud look. "Not in the tradition of Old Valryia."

She felt her heart clench tightly, her cheeks flushed hotly, her lips tightened, trying to hold back a smile of disbelief.

He wanted to marry her again.

He wanted to marry her in the tradition of his ancestors and Old Valryia.

Her whole body trembled with excitement.

"Oh." She just choked out, playing with the material of the fur lying on her thighs. She heard him only hum in response and they said nothing more to each other.

While his servant helped him put on his armour, her maid combed her hair. She played with her fingers lying on the soft material of her nightgown, smiling under her breath, immersed in her own thoughts. She had no idea what the ceremony was like, but she was happy.

He had suggested it of his own free will.

It was his response to her confession.

A tangible confirmation that he reciprocated her feelings.

She wondered how she should dress for such an occasion − she didn't have much choice, most of her gowns were still in King's Landing. She decided on a reddish-brown gown with an open neckline starting below her breasts with buff sleeves.

The colours of his and her heritage, she thought with joy.

She had promised him that she would not leave the tent in his absence, so she spent the day impatiently waiting for the appointed hour. She considered whether to turn up at their council meeting, but decided that her father was surely still angry with her and she should wait a little while before showing him her face.

Her husband had decided that war awaited them, and she accepted that.

She was ready to die with him.

She placed a hand on her womb, sighing at the thought.

A servant entered the tent, bowing before her, holding a wrapped note in his hand.

"My Lady. The King sends you a letter." He said calmly, walking up to her and handing her the message. She swallowed loudly at his words, took the piece of parchment and nodded at him to let her read it in solitude.

What could he possibly want?

As soon as the boy left, she unrolled it with her heart beating hard and began to read.

My Lady, the word of your injuries has filled me with sadness and bitterness for I realise that I have contributed to your misfortune. Know that not a day goes by in which I do not suffer through this thought. Neither I nor the kingdom will ever forget what you and my brother have done. I wish to apologise to you for my brazen confession and the situation I put you in King's Landing. Know that I want you to have a better opinion of me. That I wish to be a good monarch. Your devoted King Aegon −

She didn't know why, but she felt a squeeze in her throat, as if she was about to cry.

She felt lost in her feelings about this man, knowing that he had took innocent servants against their will without blinking an eye.

On the other hand if there was a chance that he would change, that he would try, there was also the hope that she and her husband would not be fighting for a lost cause, but for someone who had grown up to be worthy of it.

She thought long and hard about whether she should write back or leave it unanswered. She decided, however, that she could not risk his discouragement and falling back into drunkenness if he saw her lack of response as her indifference and another rejection.

She did not love him, but she wanted to be able to respect him, to give him any warm affection.

She took an empty parchment in her hand, dipped her quill in ink and, after a moment's thought, began to write.

My King, your words fill me with joy. My wounds are healing properly. Both I and my husband remain devoted and faithful to you.

She rolled up the message and summoned her servant, ordering her to send the letter to King's Landing.

She reasoned that she would tell her husband, but after their nuptials, not wanting to frustrate and distract him with such things beforehand.

As the sun began to set slowly she put on her cloak and left the tent, telling the guards that she was going to meet her husband.

She set off through the camp and squeezed between the tents, heading through the high fields and grasses towards the forest and a small hill. After a few minutes of walking, she spotted the huge, sleeping silhouette of Vhagar lying at the base of the hill − the dragoness raised her eyelids lazily and lifted her head slowly, letting the hot, smoky air out of her nostrils.

To her surprise, however, she made no movement.

She thought she might have felt that she was carrying her husband's child inside her, recognised its familiar scent.

This thought reassured her somewhat, but she still did not dare to approach her, lest test her patience.

She jumped up frightened, hearing someone's footsteps − she looked back over her shoulder and was relieved to see her husband dressed in his everyday attire and a strange man she didn't know. She smiled at them, pulling the hood from her hair, feeling the joy and excitement fill her rapidly beating heart.

Her husband approached her, the corner of his mouth twitching in a slight smirk.

"We need to change." He said to her softly. She blinked, looking at him questioningly.

He held out his hand to the man in whose company he had come, and he handed him the robes she had seen for the first time in her life − cream-coloured, for sure sewn from linen, partly dyed red.

The man turned his back on them, and she swallowed quietly at the thought that she was supposed to be changing here, in the middle of an open space.

"Here? What is this?" She asked at the same time frightened and curious − she saw him cast her a proud, confident look, lifting his chin high.

"These are our wedding robes." He hummed low, and she looked at him with wide-open eyes. She took one of the soft materials from him, looking at it with her lips pressed together, her cheeks red with excitement and joy.

Our wedding robes.

Robes similar to those of his ancestors.

Heat rippled through her heart like sweet nectar, making her mind dull with overpowering joy.

"You have to help me." She whispered, glancing at him. He murmured low and nodded.

She recognised with amusement that he had bravely approached the task, thinking that untying the sleeves of her gown and bodice would be easy.

She saw him furrow his eyebrows when he realised how complicated the ties were, requiring patience and calmness, which, as they both knew, her husband didn't have much of. She threw him an amused look and he hummed under his breath, his lips twitching in a smile.

He was happy, she thought cheerfully.

Nothing could spoil this moment for them.

When she was finally left in just her shirt, he helped her put on the robe, placing it on her body with solemnity, tying it around her waist with a wide, gold girdle − his face was serious and focused, the material pleasantly soft and warm.

She pressed her lips together, feeling the arousal at the thought that her own husband was helping her dress in her wedding attire.

When he had finished he stepped back slightly to appraise his work and hummed contentedly, clearly satisfied with the end result.

"Let your hair down." He said calmly, and she threw him a surprised look.

She pressed her lips together at the thought that her maid had spent the entire morning working on her beautiful hairstyle of tangled braids, but she only sighed quietly and meekly began to slide the pins out of her hair. To her surprise, her husband began to help her, strands of her dark hair slowly falling to her shoulders, contrasting with the light fabric.

When they had finished he murmured contentedly and bent down, unwrapping from the delicate material a headdress she had seen for the first time in her life.

A triangular crown made of delicate material, decorated on the sides with tiny beads suspended from thin strings, all trimmed with gold threads.

She thought with delight that there was something beautiful and primal about it, a headdress worthy of a queen and goddess.

"It's beautiful." She whispered with her throat clenched.

She trembled as her husband hummed under his breath in response and lifted the crown up, placing it on her head, correcting the beaded strings on the sides to make them lay properly. He looked up at her finally, his lips parted slightly, she had a feeling he was breathing faster.

He liked what he saw before him, and she felt wetness between her thighs at the thought.

She thought it was her turn now and held out her hand to him. He handed her the materials of his robes and she slowly helped him undo the buckles of his leather tunic, then his shirt and breeches.

She pressed her lips together, seeing that he was aroused, his erection long and hard − he tried not to think about it, tying the fabric of his robe with a belt similar to her own, glancing at him coyly, feeling that he was watching her every move.

At the very end, looking him straight in the eye, she reached her hand to the back of his head and untied the black ribbon tying his hair, making the strands fall over his face, leaving his white hair completely loose.

She saw him pull his eye patch off his face in one sure movement and drew in a breath, delighted by the sight. They stared at each other for a moment in silence.

She shuddered as his fingers tentatively touched her cheek.

"Do you know what this ceremony involves?" He asked lowly, and she shook her head, scared and excited at the same time, placing her hand on his, pressing her cheek against his soft skin.

She heard him murmur quietly under his breath at her gesture, silent for a moment.

"Do you trust me?" He asked quietly and she felt her heart beat harder at his question.

She pressed her lips together and nodded. He hummed with satisfaction and leaned over her, placing a tender kiss on her forehead from which shivers ran through her. He pressed his nose to her cheek and began to speak quietly, as if he had just revealed some secret or mystery to her.

"The man who came with me will lead the entire ceremony. He has dagger made of dragon glass with him. We will cut each other's lips with them, and then the inside of our hands. The blood will flow from them into a goblet, from which we will both drink afterwards." He said, stroking her cheek reassuringly with his thumb, and she felt her heart stop in horror.

We will cut our lips and the insides of our hands.

She swallowed loudly at the thought, looking at him with wide eyes.

"− do not fret −" He whispered and kissed her greedily, slipping his tongue between her lips, pulling her close to him, and she drew in a deep breath, needing it just now, the reassurance that she was safe with him.

She reciprocated his caress, the tip of her tongue licking his − she moaned into his mouth as he pressed his hips against her body, letting her feel how much he wanted her.

He pulled away from her finally, looking at her with his lips slightly parted, excited.

She had never seen him like this before in her life.

"Will you do it for me?" He whispered.

She swallowed quietly and nodded.

They walked slowly towards the man who was already waiting for them, the cup in his hand. He took out the dagger made off dragon glass, which he handed to her − she reached out her trembling hand towards him and grasped the blade, throwing her husband an uncertain, frightened look.

What if she cut him too hard, or did it too slowly, causing him pain?

She saw his lips form silently into the words do not fret and swallowed hard, approaching him slowly, the man standing next to them saying the words in his ancestral language, making her feel like she was participating in some exciting, dark ritual.

She grasped his cheek gently, hesitating, looking at him uncertainly, − he grasped her hand holding the blade, lifting it and nodded, giving her courage, his lips parted in silent anticipation and elation.

He craved it.

She forced herself with the remnants of her strong willpower to press the blade to his lower lip and run it over it, cutting it open. She heard him sigh quietly, as if in pleasure, drops of blood ran down his chin.

He opened his eye and took the blade from her with a gentle flick of his hand, moving closer to her, grasping her cheek in his large palm with a tender gesture. She trembled all over, drawing in the air loudly, frightened, and he hushed her quietly, making her feel a pulsing between her thighs, his face leaning over her, his hair tickling her skin.

He drew her closer to him, parting her lower lip with his thumb and with one sure, gentle slash of his blade he cut it open, making her feel an unpleasant dull burning sensation.

"− my brave girl −" He whispered, grabbing her neck, pressing his forehead to hers, looking at her with awe and reverence from which her heart beat harder, moisture running down her legs along her thighs, her breathing uneven and aroused.

They would be left with scars that would connect them forever.

She felt they were participating in something dark, primal and beautiful, as if the gods were now watching them from the heavens, uniting them with the blood of their bodies and their pain.

Her husband put the blade in her hand without taking his forehead from hers, looking at her with a misty gaze, breathing unevenly with her, revealing the inside of his hand to her, looking at her expectantly.

This time she didn't hesitate, and with a sure, gentle cut, she slit his skin, creating a diagonal, long red line. She shuddered as the man standing next to them placed the cup under their arms − her husband took the blade from her in a swift, sure movement, grasped her hand in his and cut her skin, making her hiss in pain and discomfort.

"− shhh − just a little more −" He whispered tenderly, then grasped her cut hand in his and intertwined them together, their mingled blood flowing into the cup beneath them.

She stared at the sight as if enchanted, unsure if she had ever experienced such a mystical, almost divine feeling.

She felt that what was just happening was more than private, more than intimate, it was downright heavenly.

Their shared, mixed blood slowly filled the vessel, and when the blood stopped dripping, the man handed her the cup, which she took from him with a trembling hand.

She hesitated for a moment, looking at the contents of the goblet, swallowing hard. She looked uncertainly at her husband and trembled as she saw how intense, dark, almost frantic his gaze was, looking at what she was doing with such immense anticipation.

Seeing this, she raised the vessel to her lips and took a deep sip from it. She squeezed her eyes shut feeling the metallic, tart taste of their warm blood spread across her palate.

She swallowed the liquid with difficulty, handing the cup back to him. Her husband did not hesitate for a second, drinking all the rest of the contents while looking her straight in the eyes, as if he had been waiting for this moment all his life.

She saw his slit lips, red from blood, pull away from the vessel, something on the verge of obsession in his gaze from which heat spread through her body. She swallowed quietly as the man took the cup from him and, looking up at her face, he smiled genuinely and sincerely for the first time since she had met him.

Occasionally, in the darkness of their chamber, in bed, as he let her snuggle against his chest after an intense elation, he would purr contentedly and his lips would curve into a lazy, contented smirk.

This, however, was not the same.

Now his smile was full of satisfaction, pride, contentment, accomplishment.

She couldn't help it − her lips lifted upwards, reciprocating the gesture.

She knew that the heat she felt inside her, the wonderful devotion and affection she had for him, must have been beaming from her face.

He stepped closer to her, towering over her, still holding her cut hand in his. He grasped her cheek in his other hand and leaned over her, pressing his forehead against hers, pressing the tip of his nose to hers.

She was his wife in the face of his gods.

She was his wife because it was his will.

Not his father's or his mother's, not his brother the king's.

His.

This realisation filled her heart wonderfully, making her feel butterflies in her stomach, a pleasant tickling from which she had shivers down her spine. She felt his warm, quiet sigh on her face, his breath enveloping her skin.

She opened her eyelids and saw that he was looking at her, his thumb stroking her cheek in a slow, tender motion. They both parted their lips wanting to kiss, but hissed quietly when their open wounds came into contact and looked at each other with amusement.

"Konir sagon mirre. (That's all.)" He commanded, not pulling away from her, his fingers trailing over her cheek, neck and hair. "Kostā henujagon. (You may leave.)"

The man in front of them bowed low and started ahead on his way back to camp, his footsteps spreading with a quiet rustling among the grasses. After a while, they were the only ones left at the top of the hill, the sleeping silhouette of Vhagar rising and falling in the distance, the quiet rustle of wind and trees all around them, the fresh evening air filling their lungs wonderfully.

The sky around them was surrounded by the last rays of the sun, purple and pink, the colour of his eye − she felt her heart beat harder with desire at the thought.

Her husband looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, as if he wanted to enjoy the view. He moved closer to her, rising their entwined hands, all sticky with blood, and pressed them against his hard beating heart.

"Valzȳrys se ābrazȳrys. (Husband and wife.)" He gasped low, as if his throat tightened with emotion.

She understood the word wife, as he addressed her that way sometimes, but the first was unfamiliar to her.

"Valzȳrys?" She asked, trying to repeat the sound and accent he had used to say the word. She saw that he smiled at her attempt, pleased.

"Husband." He said briefly, and she felt her cheeks flush, the space between her thighs clenched greedily around nothing. She swallowed loudly when she felt his hand on the back of her neck, just as she had then, during their wedding night.

Husband and wife.

"Vūjigon nyke. (Kiss me.)" He whispered, and she knew perfectly well what he was asking.

She entwined the fingers of her healthy hand in his dishevelled hair and, disregarding the discomfort, kissed him greedily, passionately, the way only someone who was madly in love with someone could kiss.

She heard his murmur of surprise and delight, similar to the one he made when she touched his shoulder after he had stolen her first kiss in Storm's End.

His hand tightened on the nape of her neck, their entwined hands pressed against their chests, his fleshy tongue invading deep between her lips, sliding deep into her throat.

She felt the burning sensation of her fresh open wound, felt the discomfort, but still she couldn't pull away, pressing him against her even harder, the tip of her tongue teasing his, licking him with a quiet click.

He rocked his hips against her stomach, allowing her to feel what was happening under his robe, how hard and ready he was to feel her − she felt shivers and pulsations between her thighs, felt her moisture running down her legs.

Things were different this time.

She was not a frightened and helpless child who had sailed to King's Landing like an object sold by her family.

She was her husband's wife, his chosen one, his companion in the eyes of his gods in this world and the next.

This thought and conviction filled her lungs wonderfully, her head spinning with joy. Unintentionally, they both began to pant, reaching for the fabric they were tied with, undoing it slowly with their hearts beating loudly.

"Here?" She asked quietly, though she knew what his answer would be.

It was a pleasantly warm, almost sultry evening, one that promised a storm the next day.

She knew that, indeed, it was.

"Mmm." He only hummed in response, sliding his nose down to her neck, leaving wet, sticky traces of his lips brushing against her skin.

She felt, after a moment, the full material of her robe loosen, revealing her scars and her healthy skin, her naked body, everything that belonged only to him. She lowered her arms, letting the material from above slide off completely, the evening breeze pleasantly enveloping her exposed skin.

Her husband pulled away from her for a moment, looking down and then up at her face again, a darkness in his eye, a desire, a thirst from which she knew she had to feel him, that she could not hold out any longer.

"− please, valzȳrys −" She whispered and saw his pupil narrow, the sound of the word made him literally throw himself at her, forcing her to sit down on the grass and lay on her bare back, breathing loudly, his body resting on top of her between her legs.

She helped him open his robe, panting heavily along with him, their lips parted in excitement and desire. She felt him slide the material off her thigh, leaving her in front of him in nothing but a headdress.

However, for some reason he hesitated after a moment and stopped, breathing unevenly, his gaze shifting. She blinked, not understanding what had happened, and touched his cheek with her hand.

She watched in surprise as he lay down beside her on his back, swallowing quietly, the top of his hand running over her bare chest and stomach.

He didn't look at her.

"Come here." He whispered, and she rose slowly, sitting down beside him, stroking his bare chest with her palm, seeing under the material of his light linen breeches how much he craved her.

She drew in a loud breath when she felt his large hand catch her thigh and lift it, forcing her to sit on top of him, straddling him. She looked down at him in shock − it was the first time she had been in such a dominant position with him.

She had often ridden him while sitting on his lap, however he always sat then too, controlling the pace and what was happening, never letting her take the initiative completely.

She could feel her heart pounding as she looked at his uncertain face, seeing him lying like that, vulnerable, breathing unevenly − he opened his lips a few times as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't.

"− do you wish for your wife to take care of you? −" She asked quietly, figuring that this would make it easier for him to convey what he wanted to say.

She heard him hum and saw that he nodded, his trembling hands running up and down her soft thighs and the sides of her bare waist.

She wondered what it was that scared him so much about this position and the fact that someone could give him pleasure where he could relax and just take.

She thought that for sure his masculine, dominant mind was ashamed of having a woman dictate the pace and type of caresses to him, of watching his moans and pleasure as she fucked him rather than him fucking her.

To her it was one and the same, but she thought it was something else to him.

Suddenly it dawned on her.

He wanted to give her what he had taken from her when he took her maidenhood.

Control.

She swallowed hard and smiled tenderly at him at the thought − she stroked his cheek reassuringly and he gasped, tense, his swollen manhood pulsing intensely beneath her, separated from her hot folds only by the thin material.

She slid it down slightly, letting his erection experience how wet and ready she was to welcome him inside her, with slow, gentle rocking of her hips rubbing back and forth against him. She heard him groan low, his lips parted, his hands tightening on her hips, showing her how much he liked it. Her insides pulsed hard at the sight.

"− you make me so wet. − I want it inside me so much − do you think I'm worthy of that honour? −" She whispered softly and heard him draw in the air loudly, a throaty, surprised moan escaping from his lungs, his cock throbbed greedily beneath her, completely hard.

"− yes − I − fuck −" He sighed as her buttocks rested harder against him, teasing his cock with the full weight of her body. "− please − just −"

She gasped at his words, knowing full well what he was asking for and what he needed.

She lifted herself, gripping his thick, long erection in her healthy hand, ignoring the burning sensation of the other on which she rested the weight of her body, and directed the tip of it against her pulsing, moist slit.

They both moaned low as she began to tease him, sinking down on him a little and lifting back up, not letting him slip between her thighs.

"− I − oh, gods −" He mumbled out, watching as his cock stretched her tight, throbbing walls only to slide out of her a moment later, unable to experience fulfilment.

She sunk completely on top of him only when his hands clamped helplessly on her hips, taking him all the way in, and he sighed low, delighted by the sensation, clenching his eye, his sapphire glinting disturbingly in the starlight.

She began to rise and fall on his cock with slow, soft, patient movements, wanting every inch of his length to enjoy the warmth of her sticky, rough, tight walls pressing against him on all sides. She leaned forward, placing her hands on his shoulders, looking intently at his delighted face, rubbing herself with his fat cock against her walls, teasing wonderfully her hidden spot of unearthly pleasure.

With each unhurried buck of her hips, a loud sigh erupted from his throat, his lips parted, his gaze hazy, at once frightened, thirsty and full of the trust from which her heart squeezed. She saw him swallow loudly, as if he wanted to say something, his body responding with a gentle thrust each time she lowered herself onto him again.

"− I'm not sure − ah − if you're my wife − or − mmm − if it's the Maiden herself who came down from the heavens to marry me − the Stranger − darkness, nothingness −" He breathed out, and she moaned loudly at his words, involuntarily speeding up her pace, falling and rising onto his cock with a loud slaps, filling herself to the brim with him.

She felt his knees rise to penetrate her deeper, her breasts bouncing up and down in front of him, droplets of sweat running down her neck.

"− valzȳrys −" She mewled helplessly, surprised and ashamed of his words, so tender and beautiful, comparing her to the most sacred goddess now that she had him deep inside her. He, however, continued.

"− as if life had married death − water had married fire − day had married night −" He growled, grasping her hot cheek with his hand, his thumb running over her lips, causing her pain and pleasure at the same time, his hips began to slam into her more greedily, driving her mad.

She parted her lips, watching him on the brink of orgasm, rising and falling on top of him in intense, loud, sticky splats, their bodies pouding against each other with a wet clicks.

"− my beloved god − implacable − cruel − unforgiving − ah − infinitely dark − like the night spreading over us −" She mumbled, lifting her chin up, tilting her head back, her husband's hand squeezed her soft breast greedily, both of them panting and moaning loudly, close to fulfilment, she could feel him pulsing more intensely inside her.

"− ābrazȳrys −" He choked out helplessly and moaned loudly, throaty, coming hard, his hot spend spilling inside her in waves, his body tensed, glistening in the starlight from sweat and exhaustion.

Feeling this, she leaned over him, pressing her forehead against his and grasped his hand, pressing it between her thighs.

"− please −" She mumbled and moaned loudly when, without even asking her, he began to do what she needed, his thumb beginning to swirl in intense, sure strokes around her puffy bud, making the tension inside her unbearable.

He fucked her with his still hard cock through her orgasm, sweet, innocent whines escaping her lips as she fell on top of him with her last strength, coming down from her elation, panting hard along with him.

He put his arms around her immediately, his one hand on her back, the other on her hair, his chest all wet with sweat. They didn't speak for a long time, not feeling the need to, trying to calm each other down, the cold wind around them cooling their bodies pleasantly.

The Maiden and The Stranger became one.

_____

Taglist 1

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @tempt-ress @blairfox4 @crazymusicgirl104 @ahristata @menaosama @ladywin17 @queenofshinigamis @rae-seri @dark-night-sky-99

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novafire-is-thinking · 8 months

Text

Looking for volunteers…

As some of you know, @cyber-streak-2 and I have been providing the fandom with quality incorrect quotes for a while now.

I’ve had a lot of fun with it, but since I’ll be cutting down on my fandom activities for a while, I won’t be able to help with incorrect quotes more than once a week.

Styx and I are looking for a few volunteers who can fill in for me and suggest characters for quotes.

Responsibilities and requirements below:

Responsibilities:

Styx will DM you a handful of incorrect quotes sometime during the day, depending on its availability. Usually, this happens sometime in the evening (MT-EST USA).

The message will appear as follows:

Sometime before the next day, you will evaluate the quotes and suggest characters that fit each quote.

I recommend copy-pasting the full message into a separate app (iPhone Notes, Google Docs, etc.) and brainstorming over there. It’ll make your life easier if you can see all the quotes in front of you as you work, and it’ll also help prevent mix-ups on your end.

My preferred brainstorming setup:

When you’re finished matching things up, you will send back your suggestions in the following format:

Anubis will look over your suggestions, and it’ll thank you if it’s satisfied. If not, he’ll ask if you have any other suggestions for [quote #x].

Other things to know:

If you’re busy when Styx sends the quotes, don’t feel pressured to respond; you don’t even have to let it know you’re busy. As long as you send your suggestions/ideas before the morning of the next day (6am EST), you’re free to answer him whenever you want. Styx is chill like that :)

If you can’t think of any character(s) that will fit one or more of the quotes, say so. The only consequence is that there will be less quotes.

If the quotes are published, and you realize you or Anubis accidentally mixed up the characters, don’t hesitate to DM, point it out, and state exactly what changes should be made. It’s happened plenty of times with me, and Styx hasn’t hesitated to change the quotes, even after they’ve been published.

If you think of multiple characters that fit a single quote, feel free to suggest them too.

Multi-character formatting examples:

If you can think of a way to correct and/or improve one or more of the quotes, send back the full quote(s) with the completed changes incorporated. This makes it easy for Anubis to just copy and paste the updated version(s):

Requirements:

Must have a solid grasp of the main characters’ personalities in MTMTE + LL, preferably with a grasp of some characters from the rest of IDW1, TFP, and EarthSpark. Knowledge of characters from TFA, G1, and Beast Wars is appreciated for the sake of additional variety, but not necessary. No Rescue Bots, RiD15, or Cyberverse, please.

Must be able to communicate concisely. Styx does best when there’s little-to-no ambiguity in the wording of character suggestions and all other messages. (No need to be me or an Ultra Magnus. Just be willing to confirm or reword things if asked.)

Congratulations and thank you to anyone who’s read this far. 😎

If you’re interested in doing this, please DM me with which day(s) you’re available, and we can discuss other details. I’ll answer any questions you may have.

I know this may seem like a lot, but it’s easy and fun once you’ve been doing it for a little while. I’ve gotten a lot of good laughs out of imagining which characters would say which things.

#looking at this you would think I write job listings for a living jfhdgsk

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kirkirk · 5 months

Text

Merch lines that might be plot relevant for Azusa (Part 1)

I love DL's lore, especially Azusa's, I think it's so complex and well-written so I thought this could be fun. I'm still playing the 5th game and I'm avoiding spoilers like the plague so my knowledge is just based on my 1829934738 Azusa theories. Please remember to be kind and take this as a fun resource/thought exercise if I'm blatantly wrong with any of my takes.

These are in no particular order, also I might do another part because there's no way I'm fitting every single plot reference here.

1. Vampire Lab Azusa

I'm starting with this one because it's one of the most obvious. They were absolutely crazy for doing it. Ignoring all of the franchise's references to human experimentation, him being the only one actually strapped (Yuma also has a straight jacket but his is open) is really interesting. Especially since the description for this set mentions 医者に反抗的な態度をとる者、(Those who show a rebellious attitude towards doctors). I can't help but think they're referencing Azusa and that's why he's strapped. Still, it could always be a reference to his struggle with mental health. The interpretation you choose is up to you.

2. Yammy Yamme X Bad Blood Azusa

He and Kanato became the family models for this one. If that isn't a big alert sign I don't know what it is. This set is themed around gamers/gamer aesthetic. What is the players' stand-in in DL? A pink bunny. What is his backpack? A pink bunny. His cap also has droopy ears that could be another reference to bunnies. If interpreted very loosely, this could mean that "Azusa carries the player on his back" and that's so freaking funny because true. Of course, I think its meaning is deeper than that.

3. Vandead Carnival LE/tokuten chibi (?)

If the player is a pink bunny I wonder what an extremely sad blue bunny would mean...

I had to do it I'm so sorry, I will die on the Azusa is a trapped player hill. (No spoilers about whether this is confirmed or refuted please 😘)

I found this one in Vandead Carnival's visual book but I don't know if it's exclusive from it or it came from elsewhere.

4. Secret Display Azusa

God I love this one so much. The sad expression, the accessories, the pins, the color scheme it's peak Azusacore on their behalf. This set is about butterfly taxidermy and that's basically a direct @ to ZERO Azusa which follows the same theme. Despite having a personal interpretation for this, I have yet to listen to ZERO Azusa's CD so I will keep it to myself. Any interpretation you give to ZERO Azusa might be reinforced/ related to this set.

5. Secret Memories Azusa

WHERE ARE YOU GOING WITH 5 BOOKS.

Hidden gifted kid Azusa is my Roman empire, I love that so much for him. It's true that you could attribute his disgusted expression to not wanting anything to do with those books, but I interpret it as him disliking being SEEN with them since he's looking at the camera and not at the books, like come on what are you doing with that many books.

I could talk about this for hours (and I have) but for now I'll be stopping here since I don't know if anyone is even remotely interested. I have enough for a few more parts so maybe I'll turn it into a YouTube video so it's more enjoyable to watch. If you have any questions or want me to expand on any of these ideas please feel free to send Asks. Just keep it spoiler free for content after Lunatic Parade please I'll be very very sad if you don't :)

#azusa mukami #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers azusa #dialovers #diahell

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fandomsimagined · 7 months

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hoax (Nikolai Lantsov x Reader) - Prologue

Title: hoax - prologue

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

Warnings: Language, death, violence

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: When Sturmhond stumbles across a Kerch pirate ship transporting stolen Ravkan goods, he takes it upon himself to confront the captain only to bind himself faced with a potential ally or yet another adversary.

Author’s Note: Hi! it’s me again coming to you with yet another Shadow and Bone fic. This is one I’ve had in my brain for quite some time and it will follow the canon storyline (not completely of course but for the most part). Nikolai is one of my favorite character of all time so I really really hope that I did him justice with this. I hope you enjoy! If you have any requests, please feel free to send them in! I write for all of the grishaverse characters pretty much. Sorry for such a long authors note. I hope you enjoy!

Nikolai smiled and nodded with apparent approval. His years of diplomatic training were finally paying off, his years of pretending to listen in on meetings with foreign ambassadors when he was younger had prepared him for these types of situations. Though, he imagined his parents meant for it to be utilized in a more civilized setting. The issue came in with the fact that Nikolai was many things: he was an excellent shot, dashingly handsome even as a ruddy pirate, and perhaps a tad bit egotistical at times, in an endearing way, of course; but he wasn’t stupid. It was quite obvious to the privateer that the fellow captain was lying. He didn’t even need Tolya or Tamar to confirm.

The Kerch captain seemed to be blind to Nikolai’s insincerity, because he kept rambling.He had to admit, he was good. If it was anyone other than Nikolai, they might have fallen for the falsehoods that were spewing out of his mouth, but Nikolai knew better. The goods on his ship were Ravkan, stolen from a Ravkan trade ship on its way to Novyi Zem. Nikolai had been trying to entertain the conversation long enough to find out if the captain (whose name still hadn’t been divulged, and he didn’t care enough to ask) was working with a larger coalition plotting against the Lantsov throne. The more he spoke, the less likely Nikolai found that scenario. This captain was working only for himself, which was wonderful news. He’d like to set sail as quickly as possible. The dark grey clouds looming overhead indicated that they would be in for quite the trip back to Os Kervo.

Tamar was standing to his side, fingers tight around the handles of her beloved axes. He was right. He was lying. Her demeanor told him everything he already knew. That the captain was lying and that he was going to try and ambush them to escape. Tolya had a grip on his blade as well. Neither one of them needed the weapons–they could simply rip the air from someone's lungs with just a few movements of their hands–but they always did have a flair for the dramatic. Something that he most definitely had no experience with.

“There’s no need to be hostile.” The captain held up his hands in a mock surrender, a chuckle escaping from his throat. “We’re just having a casual conversation.”

Nikolai gripped his pistol in the holster on his side. He was slightly offended that the captain actually thought that he didn’t know what was going on–despite that it was what he’d intended. He’d hoped that his reputation had preceded him enough that the captain would’ve tried a little bit harder. This was amateur work, and since Nikolai had gathered that this particular captain was well-experienced in the art of stolen goods, it was because he thought that it would fool Nikolai–Sturmhond.

The captain’s eyes flickered to the crow’s nest where Nikolai could just barely make out two figures. At least one was a heartrender, he presumed. They were stationed there to snuff the life out of him if things went awry. He figured that the one closest to him was a decoy, that way they wouldn’t know which one the true heartrender was and that they would assume incorrectly. That’s what he would do. They just didn’t realize that Nikolai had two heartrenders of his own.

Nikolai shifted his weight, maintaining his aura of confidence–though it wasn’t hard. He was quite certain that even though this crew was experienced, that he could take all of them on his own if necessary, but he had Tolya and Tamar with him.

“Really? Seems your men didn’t get the message. I don’t usually keep heartrenders on hand for a conversation.” Nikolai gestured to the crow’s nest. “You know, communication between a captain and his crew is key in running a successful business venture. I might suggest trying some trust exercises to really make sure that you’re on the same page.”

He couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t enjoy the panic that flickered over the captain’s face. “They’re only there as a precaution. I’m sure you understand the need for such matters as a captain yourself.”

“Of course, though I do wonder why such precautions would be necessary if you just intended to have a casual conversation, as you put it.” Nikolai wondered aloud, though he didn’t really wonder. He knew. He was going to try and take over his ship too. Over his dead body. “See, what I think is that you wanted to get caught by the dashingly handsome Sturmhond. The only thing that leaves me quite puzzled is why. Do you plan to kill me? Take my ship? Tell all of your pirate buddies that you fought Sturmhond and won?” Nikolai clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Many men have tried to do the same, and yet none have succeeded. Why do you think that is?”

“Probably because you talked them to death,” the captain scoffed, sweat forming at his brow. Another lesson in diplomatic training. How to talk for long periods of time making people believe that it’s about something important, but really nothing of any value was said. It was strange. There didn’t seem to be much difference between pirates and political figures, but that rabbit hole was for another time.

“Good guess, but no.” Nikolai shook his head. “It’s because I don’t let my crew do my dirty work for me.” He lowered his voice. “If you want that ship, you’re going to have to kill me for it, and I assure you I won’t make it easy.”

“I’ve killed much stronger men for less,” he sneered.

Nikolai couldn’t hold in the bout of laughter that erupted. While he was aware that there were much stronger men than him out there, he just couldn’t imagine that he’d killed them considering he wasn’t smart enough to notice what Nikolai was really playing at. “I’m sure. And were those much stronger men the ones that you smuggled these goods from?”

“I’m not wasting any more time with this.” The captain raised his hand slightly–a signal to his grisha to stop his heart right then and there. Nikolai waited patiently, but as he already suspected, nothing happened. While Nikolai was busy monologuing, Tolya had discreetly dropped their pulses. His grisha were taking a nice long nap, which meant that they could go ahead and wrap this up in a nice little bow. Surely, he wasn’t dumb enough to actually try and fight him on his own.

Tamar couldn’t suppress a smirk from playing on her lips, and Nikolai had to admit, he was having a hard time doing so as well.

“You don’t make your crew do your dirty work, eh?” The captain raised his eyebrows.

“They just made it a fair fight. I told you, if you want my ship, you’ll have to kill me for it. What I meant was that you would have to kill me for it, so if you’d like to try, go ahead, or you can hand over the goods you stole and we’ll call it a day; though I’d like to get this over with quick. There’s somewhere I need to be, so make up your mind quickly.”

“Why you little–” The captain’s sentence was cut short. He clutched his chest and fell to the deck, blood trickling from his lips. Nikolai frowned. Tolya and Tamar were right beside him and they hadn’t moved, awaiting his orders.

“Did you?” Tamar looked at Tolya who shook his head.

“No, but it was a heartrender.”

Nikolai glanced around the ship once more, trying to find a sign of another ship or crew. The Kerch’s grisha were down and they were the only others on the boat. Was it someone on the Kerch’s crew? Why would they want him dead?

“There’s no one else around.” Tamar stated, though her grip hadn’t loosened on her weapons.

“We have to assume the worst,” Nikolai warned. “If there is another heartrender on the ship, then I’m sure they aren’t happy with us, so stay sharp.”

“There’s no need. My qualms aren’t with you.” A girl stepped into view from the captain’s quarters. He hadn’t even realized the door was open. She looked to be around his age–seventeen or eighteen.

She stepped over the dead captain, standing in front of them, clearly not afraid. Nikolai grabbed his pistol, Tamar and Tolya wielding their respective weapons as well. It was no use. Had she wanted him dead, she wouldn’t have come out. She could have easily had the three of them down in seconds. No this was a personal vendetta against the captain.

“Why?” Tamar asked.

“So that I can get off of this stupid fucking boat.”

#Spotify #grishaverse #fanfiction #imagine #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine

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beautifulpersonpeach · 11 months

Note

https://twitter.com/RequestBTSRadio/status/1714121533864513936

so they sent his WHOLE ALBUM to radio but can't even sent atleast title tracks of other members? WOAHHHH. or their western collabs ? Not JM's no.1 song ? Not OTS or CLOSER which had even more potential than these western reject songs ? How can you all be completely think this is ok ? You all suddenly throw yours ethics out of window because its your fav member ? Everytime excuse it away when JK is the biggest industry plant rn.. I just wanna say no matter how desperately they want him to be an established pop star it's not gonna happen. He's always gonna be a kpop member who release generic song in English for western validation.

***

It's fine if you want to complain. Anyone who thinks other members' songs should be sent to radio is free to say so, tag HYBE, email BigHit, etc. You disagree with how BigHit/HYBE America is promoting the first full English album from a BTS member relative to the other solo debuts. Sure, that's valid.

All that talk about ethics and whatnot sounds insane to me though. There's no use saying it at this point but Anon, you've become completely sucked in, you've picked up the Frankenstein language of the overinvested stan transferring their aggression to Jungkook.

Getting songs sent to radio doesn't make one an 'industry plant', talk less the biggest one, and much less for a guy who could sell out stadiums if he announced a tour today. It would be great to hear Closer or Hectic by RM on radio, same with Amygdala or Polar Night; Future, Alone, and For Us would be great additions too. Heck, Coldplay literally wrote The Astronaut and it sounds like a radio hit so it should've gotten a good push as well. But they didn't and of course it's okay to feel upset and communicate that to the company. But I also love that Jungkook is getting this push, and with a full English album, the first run by HYBE America (by all appearances), I think songs sent to radio is what to expect. Nobody from BTS will likely ever get full Western validation, and Jungkook's back-to-back hits of mid songs certainly aren't helping all that much, but it's true Jungkook is doing well, making more fans and leaving his mark. Just as the other members have done and will continue to do with even stronger impact. None of them are stupid and they are aware of their situations. I trust them to handle their business.

What ticks you off is that you feel you'll have to stream more, buy more, put more effort in than JJKs to get the same results. You're pissed off more for yourself than you are about Jimin. Which is fine. But Jimin is fine too lol. The way y'all talk about that man makes me wonder if you actually know him, or if when we talk about Jimin, we're talking about the same person.

What Jimin wants, he ultimately gets. When he really wants something he makes sure he gets it, in the way that works best for him. I've seen him win, get his way, make his way in moments, weeks, months, and years. His documentary is literally around the corner that will confirm yet again, that this is the sort of person he is. I'm not trying to be clever or make excuses, in my mind this is really what I think. It's fine if you disagree but don't send me asks like this chuck full of your frustration. I really don't relate.

#small psa #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jimin #jikook #jungkook golden #bts chapter 2 #bts solo stans #bts fandom #bts solo careers

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punchdrunkdoc · 8 months

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Part 3, Chapter 10

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 (maybe 4??) parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

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PART 3

Chapter 10

Calina adjusted the blanket over Inessa, careful not to disturb the sleeping Widow. She stared longingly at the spare strip of mattress on the bed, the desire to curl up on it and sleep overwhelming.

But she had things to do first.

She settled into the armchair in the corner of the hospital room and fished out her phone from her bag. Then sucked in a breath at the notification on the screen: 14 missed calls.

All from Matt.

Shit. He really had been trying to contact her.

She scrubbed a hand over her face, so confused by what it meant.

What did he want to say to her so urgently?

Part of her didn’t want to find out. If they were just going to fight again, or if he was just going to confirm they were done, she didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t have the strength right now. Especially when she had more important things to take care of. She scrolled past Matt’s name in the phone and found the entry for Yelena. She leaned back in the chair and hit ‘dial’.

Yelena picked up after the second ring. “Calina? How’s Inessa? Katya said she woke up in the van.”

“She did. She’s okay. They did a CAT scan of her head and there’s no fracture or internal bleeding. Just a bad concussion. They’re keeping her in just to monitor her.”

Yelena exhaled. “Thank God.”

“I know. She got lucky.”

“Are you staying with her overnight?”

“Technically, I’m not supposed to - visitor’s policy. But I can find a way to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s safe.”

“Calina…there’s no need. She is safe. We all are.”

“Is that confirmed?” Calina asked, almost hesitantly, scared to hope. “We’re definitely safe now?”

“Yes,” Yelena replied, and Calina could hear such weight in that one small word. It seemed to hold all the worry and fear and responsibility that Yelena had carried all these months - worry and fear and responsibility that she could now let go of.

“Volkov and his men are all dead,” Yelena continued. “We drugged him up to the eyeballs with truth serum beforehand and he confirmed that there’s no one left in his faction. The warehouse has been torched, and we injected those two lab rats with the hypnotic knock-out drug you gave Ranieri. They’ll wake up tomorrow thinking they were working on a new type of insulin but were laid off due to budget cuts.”

“Speaking of Ranieri, what about him?”

“Anya’s already sent off the blackmail email. She made it clear that we’re monitoring him, and if there’s even a hint that he’s told anyone about Volkov and the Widows, we’ll release all his dirty secrets to the world. Then we’ll kill him.”

“So its really over.”

“Yes. It’s over. We’re free.”

Relief flooded Calina’s exhausted system. She slumped back in the chair, feeling a swell of euphoria and numbness, the strange combination bubbling up as laughter. She let out a giggle. Which then turned into a sob. She clamped a hand over her mouth to catch the sound. “Sorry,” she said to Yelena.

“Don’t worry. There’s been a fair bit of hysteria and tears over here. I’ll send Viktoria to come pick you up and bring you back. You can get cleaned up, get some food in you.”

Calina smiled as hints of Yelena's mother-hen nature slipped out. As much as she tried to hide that aspect of herself behind barked orders and a stern facade, all of the other Widows had seen evidence of Yelena's care and concern over the past year.

"What is everyone going to do now?” Calina wondered.

“Well, right now, we’re getting roaring drunk on cheap wine and good vodka,” Yelena replied. “Tomorrow, who knows? Maybe we’ll all come to New York and take turns sleeping on your sofa.”

Calina frowned, her earlier confusion about Matt returning. “I don’t know if I’ll be in New York. Things with Matt…I don’t know where we stand.”

“But he showed up tonight. That has to mean something.”

Calina remembered all the missed calls. “I think he just had no other way to reach me.”

“Either way, that’s a problem for tomorrow. Enjoy tonight, Calina. We did it. It’s over.”

———

Calina stepped outside the main entrance to the hospital and took a deep breath, relishing in the chilled air that flooded her lungs. The freezing cold breeze stirred goosebumps on her bared arms and her injured knee throbbed, but she didn’t care.

She was alive. She was safe. And she was free.

She giggled again, her emotions still spiralling. She didn’t know how to process all this. How to contain and manage all this joy and relief and all the sheer possibilities open to her now.

She could go anywhere. She could do anything, be anyone.

She'd thought she was taking advantage of that kind of freedom when she'd first moved to New York. But she’d been weighed down by all the guilt she’d felt about abandoning her sisters and the nagging sense in the pit of her stomach that she was living on borrowed time.

It felt different this time.

It felt real.

“Lady, are you okay?” A paramedic wheeling an empty gurney out to his ambulance stopped and stared at Calina, a worried expression on his face.

Calina realised she must look strange, smiling like a lunatic in the dead of night, wearing a skimpy cocktail dress when it was 30 degrees out. “I’m okay. I’m, uh, just waiting for-”

“Me. Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.” Calina jerked in surprise at the sound of Matt’s voice from behind her. Then she felt the heavy wool of a coat as he draped it over her. He rubbed her arms through the material to warm her up as he reassured the EMT. “I’ll get her home now, thanks.”

She glanced over her shoulder to see he’d changed out of his Daredevil suit and was wearing sweats and sneakers, with a ball-cap pulled down low over his face to hide his unseeing eyes.

“Okay, man, no problem,” the man said, resuming his task.

Calina turned to face Matt. “What are you doing here? I thought you went home hours ago.”

“I did,” he replied, still rubbing her arms. “Then I got changed and came right back.”

“You’ve been here this whole time?”

Instead of answering straight away, he led her over to a metal bench near the ambulance bay. They sat down next to each other, Calina huddling into the warmth of his coat, and savouring the scent that clung to the fabric. It was pure Matt - dark and masculine and delicious.

Matt leaned forward, his arms draped between his spread knees. “I can’t really explain why I came back. I just...I didn’t want to wait for some vague ‘later’ to talk to you. So I jumped in a cab. I’m sorry if you think I’m intruding, or crowding you-”

“No. Not at all,” she insisted. “I’m glad you’re here. But you could have called, you know, instead of waiting out in the cold.” She waved her cell phone at him. “I would have answered this time.”

“If I had to wait much longer, I was going to start banging out morse code on this metal bench until you heard me.”

She smiled. “That’s my trick.”

“And it always worked. I always came running to you.”

———

Calina seemed flustered by his admission. She glanced away, biting her lip and fidgeting slightly on the bench. Then she forced out a laugh and tried to make light of his words. “You’ll, uh, need to come up with a different code. I’m not ‘D.D.’”

He decided to play along. He’d take this conversation at her pace - he was just glad they were finally together and getting a chance to talk. “How about C.B. then? For Calina Balashova. Or B.W., for Black Widow?”

“It would have to be E.B.W. now - Ex-Black Widow.”

“So you’re out then? It’s all over?”

She nodded, and blew out a breath between pursed lips. “It doesn’t quite feel real, but yeah, its all over. Volkov’s…gone. They’re all gone. We’re finally free.”

He sat back, his shoulder brushing against hers. “And Inessa?”

“She’s going to be okay.”

“Good. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Calina said, shifting on the bench to face him. “For saving her. You said I could thank you when she woke up, and she woke up so…thank you.”

Matt just shrugged. “I’m just glad I could help.”

“If you hadn’t been there…”

She glanced away again, and he could hear her blink to clear sudden tears. He took her hand in his and squeezed. “Hey, don’t think about the ‘what ifs’. She’s alive. You’re alive. Just concentrate on that.”

Matt felt like a massive hypocrite, doling out advice that he wasn’t following himself. The whole reason he was here, sitting on this bench in the freezing cold, was because he couldn’t get the ‘what ifs’ out of his head. The biggest ones being: What if he’d never gone to that warehouse tonight? What if Calina had been left to fight those supersoldiers alone? And what if she’d failed?

He could have lost her.

Forever.

He’d realised it intellectually soon after the battle, during their ride to the hospital, but the emotion of it - the gut-wrenching terror and pain of that possibility - had hit him like a brick the moment he’d entered his apartment.

He’d stepped over the threshold of the cold, empty, dark space and had gotten a glimpse of what his life would be like if she was gone. Truly gone.

It would be cold. And empty. And dark.

And he didn’t know if he’d be able to survive it.

So he’d shoved on a change of clothes and caught a cab to the hospital, unwilling to wait a single moment more to clear the air between them.

He could get over her lies. He could learn to trust her again. He could live with their differing moral codes.

He couldn’t live without her.

Even just sitting beside her like this, her hand in his, was the most content he’d been in weeks. She still had a way of calming that restless energy inside him, of soothing the dark edges and bringing him peace - just as she’d done from the beginning.

Matt basked in the sensation...until the temperature around them dropped another degree, and a light sprinkling of rain moistened the air. Calina started to shiver despite his thick coat, and he felt her suppress a yawn.

It was cold and wet, and she was obviously tired. So he nudged her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

He stood up, but she stayed seated, their hand still linked and outstretched between them. She stared up at him in confusion. “What?”

“Let’s go back to mine. We can talk more tomorrow after a good night’s sleep.”

“Your place?”

“Yeah. Its closer than New Jersey.”

She shook her head. “But I thought…I thought you wanted nothing more to do with me.”

Matt frowned. He tugged on her hand, pulling her up to stand in front of him. “What are you talking about?”

“The other night. We broke up, and-”

“Calina, we didn’t break up. We had a fight - a big fight, granted - but we can get past it. We can work it out. That’s why I’ve been trying to contact you. To talk things through.”

Calina bit her lip and ducked her head. And then he tasted salt on the air and knew she was crying. He wound his arms around her and held her close. “Hey, come on, Callie. Don’t cry.”

She mumbled something against his sweatshirt. He pulled back and cradled her face in his hands, wiping away the tears on her cheeks. “What did you say?”

“I said, I thought you hated me.”

He pressed a quick kiss against her lips, then rested his forehead against hers. “No, I don’t hate you. I was just angry. And hurt. But I love you.”

“Really?” she sniffed. “Still?”

He laughed. “Yes, still. Always. Forever.”

“I love you too. And I’m so sorry for lying to you.”

“I’m sorry for judging you.”

He pulled her back into her arms and held her tightly. After a few moments, he whispered in her ear, “Let’s go home.”

She stepped back and wiped her face. “But one of my sisters is on the way to pick me up.”

“So call her. Tell her not to bother. Let me take care of you tonight.”

Calina was a nurturer - he’d sensed that in her from almost the beginning. The way she’d cared for their elderly neighbour; the way she liked to cook for him, and read to him, and stroke his hair when he rested his head on her lap…

He’d lost sight of that over the last couple of days. He’d only seen the ruthless, deadly Black Widow. The one who killed her enemies and lied to him about it.

But that wasn’t the real Calina. That was the weapon she’d been forced to become by the men who’d stolen her as a child.

Earlier tonight, watching her take care of Inessa - hugging her, and soothing her fears, and generally acting like a loving big sister - he’d re-discovered the real Calina.

She was a nurturer. A carer. But she deserved to be cared for too. And he wanted to be the one to care for her tonight.

So he held out his hand to her…and smiled when she took it.

———

Calina stirred as the taxi slowed to a stop.

She’d fallen asleep.

Not surprising, really - she was exhausted. Bone weary and running on empty. And not just because of the late hour, or the earlier battle in the warehouse, or all her uncertainty over her relationship with Matt.

She felt like she’d been running on pure adrenaline for months - since Volkov reared his ugly head, really. A part of her had always been looking over her shoulder. On edge, wondering when she might be discovered by his goons.

And now that it was all over…the comedown was heavy. She felt like she could sleep for a week.

Matt helped her out of the cab and up the steps, taking some of her weight off her sore knee. “If you tell me the elevator’s out again, I think I might cry,” she joked.

Matt laughed. “No, it’s working. But I’d carry you up the six flights if it wasn’t.”

They rode up to his apartment in silence. As he unlocked his door, she apologised. “Sorry, I know you wanted to talk, but I’m just really tired tonight.”

“Hey,” he said, removing the coat from her shoulders. “I told you, we can talk tomorrow. If you want to go straight to bed you can. Or if you want some food first, I can order something, or heat up some soup.”

She collapsed down onto the new sofa and rested her head against the back of it. “Soup would be great. Thank you.”

“Do you need something for your knee?” He crouched down beside her and gently palpated the slightly swollen joint. Calina hissed as he probed a developing bruise. “What happened to it?”

“It was stupid. Yelena and I were sparring this evening - before we realised Volkov had arrived at the warehouse - and we took it too far.”

“Bad timing.”

Calina huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. And its the same knee I hurt before, so its probably more prone to damage now. I’ll need to watch-” She broke off as a realisation came to her.

“What?”

“I was just thinking this knee’s a weakness now. And I’ll have to compensate for it in future fights…but there won’t be any future fights. I never have to fight again.” She said the words with all the wonder she felt inside at that prospect.

She never had to fight again.

She shook her head and smiled at Matt. “You won’t understand that concept,” she teased. “You’ll still be suiting up to fight when you’re old and grey.”

Matt shrugged. “I gave it up once, so you never know.”

“You did? When? Why?”

“Story for another time,” he called out over his shoulder as he strode towards the kitchen. He returned with a frozen bag of peas which he placed on her knee, then he got started on the soup.

Calina sat back and enjoyed his fussing. She knew they still had a lot to talk about. And she knew some of that ‘talk’ wouldn’t be pleasant - they had some work to do before they could move on in their relationship - but right now she was just so happy to be back here. On this couch, in this apartment, with the sounds of Matt navigating around the kitchen and the smell of chicken soup on the stove.

It was more than she’d ever expected waking up this morning.

And way more than she deserved.

But for once, she was just going to enjoy it. She submitted willingly and gratefully to Matt’s administrations - the food, the ice on her knee, the bandaging of her few cuts and scrapes and the loan of his softest, comfiest sweats to sleep in. But as they curled up in his bed later on, Matt pressed up close behind her with one strong arm anchoring her to him, she couldn’t resist bringing up one topic - she didn’t want him to end tonight without clearing something up.

“Matt?” she whispered into the darkened, hushed room.

“Hmmm?” he replied, sounding half-asleep already.

“I, um, didn’t kill anyone tonight.”

He stilled behind her.

“I just wanted you to know,” she rushed on. “For what it’s worth.”

He pulled her even closer and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “It’s worth something. But we can talk about it more tomorrow. Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Calina smiled at the familiar, beloved nickname, and did just that.

————–

Chapter 11

Tag list: @hollandorks @chezagnes @stilldreaming666 @sio-ina-bottle @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

#daredevil #tabula rasa #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil x original female character #marvel's daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x oc

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notinthislife50 · 1 year

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Chapter 4

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

The reveal

During the day different members of the team tried to get you to come down for food but you always declined. They then started to leave food outside your door. But you never ate. After three days the team had started to get worried. “You know she’s going to be dead by the time Coulson gets back” Tony stated. “Anyone have a plan?” Sam asked. “I do” Bucky confirmed. “Oh sure, send the robot up that will make her feel so much better: Tony jabbed. “Well I’m the only one whose had experience with hydra so how can we say it won’t work” Bucky argued. After a haughty debate everyone had came to the agreement that Bucky was the best choice to talk to you. Bucky took himself to the kitchen and made a sandwich and poured a glass of milk. He then walked to your room and knocked on the door. “Y/n I’m coming in okay” he stated “Friday open the door please” As soon as the door opened you rushed to the open window. “Hey hey its okay, I’m only bringing food.” Lifting up his hands he showed you the plate and glass. Walking over to the bed he gently sat on the edge and placed the plate in the middle of the bed and the glass on the bed side table. “You need to eat y/n” he said softly. “I’m fine.” “I promise its not poisoned” he joked but when you didn’t laugh. It dawned on them that’s why you weren’t eating. “We are hear to protect, we are not going to hurt you” he took one half of the sandwich from the plate and started to eat, while munching away he started telling you a bit about his life. “I know what it’s like to be afraid. I was with Hydra for a long time and when I escaped I still had to look over my shoulder, all the time. And on top of that I still had the winter solider programming, all it would take was someone to say those 9 words and I’d be him again. Which is what happened.” You slowly walked to the bed and took the other half of the sandwich and walked backwards to the window again. Your eyes never leaving him. Bucky continued talking as if not to make a big deal about you eating. “But thankfully Steve brought me to Wakanda. And with their help I was able to break free from it. No more words, no more fear. It took a long time for me to trust again but now look at me. An Avenger” he laughed out loud shaking his head. You couldn’t help but notice the lines around his eyes when he laughed and how blue they were. You had to admit to yourself he was a very handsome man. “Do erm do you think your friends in Wakanda could do it again” you stuttered playing with the sandwich in your hand. “What do you mean, like take the words away?” he asked confused. “Yea, if someone else had words like yours, do you think they could do it again?” you looked up at him tears streaming down your face pulling at your lips. Your sandwich still held tightly in the other. His face dropped “y/n no, how?” You shrugged your shoulders “That’s how I was introduced to John, sitting in a chair being injected with the serum and getting electrocuted. Guess he likes that kind of thing " you laughed disgustingly. “I am so sorry y/n” Bucky wanted nothing more to reach out to you. But knew he couldn’t. " You know” he said trying to sound hopeful " I do think you could get the same help as me. But we will have to tell the rest of the team.” You looked horrified at this. " They won’t judge you and I’ll be there with you” he assured you. As Bucky walked in to the kitchen, the team saw the partially eaten sandwich. “Well what do you you know, he actually did it” Clint exclaimed in surprise. Ignoring them Bucky sat the plate down and walked over to Steve. “We have a problem, can you call a meeting ASAP?”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes / reader #steve rogers/reader #steve rodgers x reader #steve rodgers x you #steve rogers x y/n #stucky smut #stucky x reader #stucky x y/n #stucky / reader #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel y/n

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sewer-freak · 2 months

Note

LONG ASS MESSAGE WARNING!!!! I have Things to Share! You've not been super online lately so I've complied sum shit that may be of interest to you.

(turning off my pink text bc normal text is easier on the eyes for big messages likethis)

I've Accepted that my instinctive feelings toward your buddy Cain are. Different from yours and uhhhuhhhhh usually try not to make Too big a thing of it. (TBH, I get an instinctive bad vibe from. Most people. So that on its own isn't enough to go off of anyway.)

however!!!! I have reason to believe that he is The Kiwi Creep. (<- I gave him a name like they do for prolific killers)

Firstly, I present to you: These posts! I'm not a huge fan of this girl's either, but it is super useful that people just confess their dark incriminating secrets to her sometimes.

https://www.tumblr.com/heavensentofficial/757394760772337664/everything-is-alright-yes-its-just-not?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/heavensentofficial/757737395132186624/apologies-for-the-late-acknowledgment-thank-you?source=share

(The second one has confirmation that this the same person that's been harassing you!)

"Anyway, I’ve been intentionally misleading people. Or, one particular person.

She’s someone I truly hold dear and appreciate, yet I’ve been anonymously sending her sadistic, lewd fantasies I have about her. They make her scared and uncomfortable, but every time I send them, she comes to me for help. …Without knowing it’s me."

"I can’t keep up the act anymore, I feel as if everything’s blurring together. I’m hurting her. Yet I’m the person she seeks comfort from. She’s coming to the very person who’s causing her issues in the first place and she has no idea."

Sound familiar???

I find it interesting too that The Kiwi Creep instead of going to Cain like you suggested went to this totally uninvolved person! (Kind of like how you never see Batman and Bruce Wayne in the same room!)

Coincidence? I for one think not!

If this isn't enough, he recently announced he'd be going on break.

https://www.tumblr.com/divinetouchdown/757916668887515136/hello-all-i-have-an-important-announcement-to?source=share

To do what? To handle an issue offline with higher ups at the temple. Guess he decided the coal-walking wasn't enough...

I don't usually go there anymore bc the local temple is built on abuse, puritanical hypocrisy and stuffing people into nasty, hard to clean chastity devices, but because I wanted to get to the bottom of this, I dressed up as Edin, who he'd trust, to see if I could get footage of him doing the things The Kiwi Creep said he'd do. I have some videos I can send you in DMs if you want em.

To top it all off, I got an account of his character from someone else that knows him.

https://www.tumblr.com/poorsadorphanposting/757925978181943296/hi-hi-%CB%86%E1%97%9C%CB%86-i-hear-youve-talked-to-one-mr?source=share

I personally think it's pretty fucking damning but you ofc are free to reach your own conclusions.

Anywayz I hope you're alright n I know this ask is probably kind of overwhelming gihfuoji;kl ... Idk if putting it all out there like this is even helpful but I feel Strongly about The Truth being important. Feel free 2 take your time n figure out how you feel about this info n stuff idfk

hi. yea sorry idont have a good consept of timr. im mot on here alot. immrlyy truing to thnk words but its hard. id o not feel well.

i also get bad vibes feom everyone but idk idk cain i felt like. like he proved hilmself to me like he was different he said he was and he was but ffXKKNG KIWI SAID HE WAS DIFFERTN AND FHAT IF I KNEW WHO HE WAS I wouldd dhnage my tone oh nnyhod im going to be sick

wwwhhatt do yiu mean “shes comjing tothe bery peraon who is causing her jssues” hes so nice why WHYDO I MAKE EVERYUONE WANT TO HURT ME?! clearly he doesnt eant to feel like that he told me it frustrated him and hedidnt know what to so with the feelings i provoked him i always dducking do this i shojldnt interact with anyone evwer

ii i i dont kniw alot about the temple 8 only know whathes told me .,,, i thought he wpuld twll me to join but he neverdid it was alwaays more like “come to me with ur issues i can fix them!” idk idk idk

can

can you send me the vjdeos

i fffrll so horrible idont know what to do

#esmee #kiwi #cain #idk #imso fucked up

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seasonsofcapri · 1 year

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Rules & Guidelines

Schedule:

Prompting Opens: 11th June 2023 (Closes 23rd June)

Claiming Opens: 24th June 2023

Submissions due: 2nd September 2023

Posting Starts: 9th September 2023

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The Seasons of CaPri Captive Prince Fest is a fest to imagine and explore the seasons and festivals—whether it’s dreaming up in-world feasts and solstices, or throwing your faves into summer flings at the beach, or getting stuck in the snow in December! This year the theme is Cycles and Circles. Life and death; the waxing and waning of relationships; peace and war—or something else? How to interpret this is entirely up to you!

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Submissions must be completed works. If you want to have your work beta read but you are unable to find a beta please let us know. All creations must be individual works, and cannot be part of a series, or a prequel/sequel to an existing work. All creations must be new and complete.

Fics and art should use the prompt as inspiration, but feel free to interpret it in your own creative way.

We encourage you to be inspired by the prompters’ additional details, but these are not required to be incorporated into the creation. You may also wish to take into consideration your prompter’s squicks when creating, but this is not a requirement — but we ask that you do not gift the creation to the prompter if you are not taking the squicks into consideration, and as always, be sure to tag your work appropriately.

Submitting:

Once you have completed your fic, it’s time to submit!

Submissions are due on 2nd September 2023, but if you are finished before this date, you are welcome to submit then.

When your work is ready to be submitted, please fill out the following header and email it to [email protected]

Title:

Ship:

Creator/s:

Rating:

Word count (if applicable):

Art medium (if applicable):

Run time (if applicable):

Warnings/Tags:

Prompt #:

Summary:

All creations must be posted directly to the AO3 collection here.

You are required to add the fest mod account as Co-creator when uploading your submission. This is primarily so that we can change the posting date. We will not make changes to your fic, and will remove the mod account for reveals.

Be sure to include all appropriate warnings, and tag your work correctly.

Please contact the mods if you have any issues posting your work.

Extensions:

You can contact the mods at [email protected]. If you need an extension, or have to drop out, please let us know by email. Please do not be afraid to reach out about this, we are always happy to hear from you!

Posting:

The mods will post your creation on the scheduled day, and will make a Tumblr post for each. We do not release the posting schedule as this is subject to change.

Further information:

For general questions about the fest don’t hesitate to contact the mods. That’s what we are here for. But keep in mind that we’re operating in multiple time zones, and will be dealing with offline life as well as fandom! We won’t be available 24/7, but we always aim to respond within a reasonable timeframe.

Please note that should there be any disputes regarding the interpretation of the rules, the decision of the mods will be final.

❤️ your mods

[ID: A graphic with a photograph of the sea, shallow enough to see the sand below and with small waves. Photo followed by text reading: Seasons of Capri. Rules and guidelines. /End ID]

#captive prince #capri #lamen #seasonsofcapri #seasonsofcaprifest #seasonsofcaprifest 2023 #capri fest #mod post

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