#I made a banner!!! I have a banner now!!!

[marthawrites]

Devour

Daemon Targaryen x wife reader

Word count: 1.8k+

About: The early days of your moon's blood are always the worst. During your suffering, your husband, the Rogue Prince, takes it upon himself to help ease you.

Includes: FILTHY SMUT. FILTH. Featuring established relationship (husband x wife), Daemon is sweet to his wife, menophilia (aka period kink), menstural cramps, reader is emotional, menstural blood, pussy eating, dirty talk, face/blood licking, and unprotected vaginal sex. I think that's all apologies if I missed anything!

Note: Hello lovely reader! This fic was inspired by my dragon friends ♥ Double warning: Please keep in mind the content of this fic. If you do not like it, do not read this. I've never wrote anything like this before! It was definitely out of my "comfort zone" but I had a lot of fun with it! Reader is implied to have a painful first couple days of her period. Reader is implied to "not have dragon's blood", and she's from an unspecified House. Other than that, reader is non-descript. As always, please enjoy!

Banner made by the incredible and sweet @zaldritzosrose who went above and beyond for this impromptu writing challenge!

Despite leaving it unattended, steam continued to rise from your abandoned bath. Your fingertips were pruned, as were your toes, and your skin bloomed with heat. If you could handle the temperature for even one more minute you’d still be in the tub allowing your husband, the Rogue Prince, to add hot water from the hearth whenever it grew tepid. But, unlike your husband, you didn’t have dragon’s blood; the heat affected you easier than it did him. 

You sat in a chair in front of your vanity, now, patting your skin dry with a warmed towel. Your bath wasn’t one for cleanliness. No, not at this time. It was one for comfort. For relief. A ripe womb was both a blessing and a curse to women. 

The beginning of your moon’s blood was always the worst. It came with cramps and fatigue–neither of which faded for the first day or two. Even though you’d only been sitting for a short time, you knew there’d be a smear of red upon the chair’s protective linens once you stood.

You had been in the bath for nearly an hour. The most divine hour. Not once during that time did you suffer any cramps. Now that you were out, however? You pushed on your lower belly in an attempt to ease the pain, nostrils flaring with it.

“Can I get you anything, sweetling?” Daemon asked in a voice that was both concerned and gentle. 

Shaking your head, you answered, “no, no I don’t think so.”

“Perhaps you should get back into the tub for a bit?”

The sweetness in his tone touched your emotions, and for a moment you had to blink back tears. “The heat makes me faint after so long. I’d hate to make you deal with me passing out while I’m in this…,” you waved a hand, gesturing to yourself, “condition.”

“Come lay down then,” he said easily. He grabbed one of your robes–a lovely cotton piece with a silken sash and delicate embroidery–and walked to you. Helping you into it, he didn’t bother tying it before guiding you to your marital bed.

Smiling softly, you kissed him. “Thank you, husband.”

Daemon pushed you down with care, chasing your warm, soft lips all the while. He loomed above you while supporting himself with one arm. “My poor little wife. You must be very sore today?” He asked, fluttering kisses along your jaw. Your neck.

Goosebumps rose to the top of your skin beneath his affection. There was no doubt Daemon adored you. He had a reputation across King’s Landing, the Stepstones, Pentos, and likely many places between–people and their constant wagging tongues. But, whatever harsh words were said about him, his ambition, hot-temper, and moodiness, your saccharine charm–and occasional fiery tongue–soothed him. He cared for you. Truly. 

“Yes,” you answered. “The Gods punish me for not giving you a little dragon. Only when my womb is full and growing with your babe will these stop. And the pain of bringing your child into the world will be worth it.” Sadness clung to your words. It sent your eyelashes glittering, too, as you looked up at him.

He shushed you. “It will happen. The process of making a child is where all the fun is, anyway,” he said with the twinkle of a wink.

If you had more energy you might argue with him about it. But alas you didn’t. You simply offered a little nod. “I think I’ll rest now. Wake me for supper?”

One of his palms trailed up your side, gripping into the softness of your waist. “Who said anything about resting now?” He asked with a quirk of his fair brow. “Because surely I didn’t.”

The feel of him touching you like this immediately sent a different sort of ache in those low muscles in your belly. It was a marvel how your body always reacted to him. No matter how small or subtle, your senses always bent to him. “Daemon…,” you whispered against his mouth. “What’re you–,”

That same hand lowered from your waist and wandered between your thighs. He knew how to silence your pesky questions. “What kind of a husband would I be if I let you suffer anymore than you need to?”

“...a husband like any other?” You proclaimed half in jest and half in truth.

“And am I a husband like any of these other daft cunts?”

You giggled. “No. You’re Daemon Targaryen, brother of the King and–oh!” His fingers brushed that delicate space between your thighs and you purred. You were always so, so sensitive during your moon’s blood.

“Lay there and look pretty. Let me help in a way that I can,” he said, voice hot and gravely as he lowered to lay between your thighs.

Mortification quickly filled you with the prospect of what he was going to do. He’d never done anything like this before! Not during your cycle! “You needn’t do th–ah!” Whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as your husband’s slid over your clit. Seven Hells he meant to do it and he wasn’t going to let you say no or push him away.

While he’d never done this during your cycle before, he has pleasured you in other ways. He knew how sensitive you were during it. He kept his attention on your bud, circling and flicking over it with lazy laps.

Embarrassment melted into lust as Daemon continued. You hardly knew what to think or do! Was this really happening? Your hips began to slowly grind along with him, cunt seeking further attention and friction.  

“There you are…,” he said, grinning a feral blood-stained grin up at you. His eyes sparkled with dark delight. “Don’t fight it. Let me make you feel good.”

You nearly came at the sight. Holy shit it was so wrong and so… exciting. You gasped in equal pleasure and surprise as his tongue dipped lower than before. Instead of lavishing your pearl again and again, it slid and teased your entrance. Daemon’s groan barely made it to your ears but you felt it against your core. He actually worked his tongue in and out of you. Fucking you with the warm muscle. “G-ods!” You panted, hands flying down to tangle in his hair. 

His hands moved and held firmly onto your hips, wide grip holding onto your ass and hips alike. Your soft flesh yielded to him and he fucking loved the way his fingers dented into your skin. He coaxed you along, letting you ride your bliss on his face; using him as he’s often used your mouth for pleasure.

A metallic scent hung in the air around you. Once again, embarrassment and shame filled you as your hazy mind realized that was your metallic scent. Rich, coppery, thick. Part of you knew he had to be a mess right now–your blood smeared all across his pale Targaryen features. Yet, he never stopped. He could have. Multiple times. He could have used his fingers like he’s done in the past. Or eased his aching cock into your body. But, no. He chose this. He wanted this. Your blood on his tongue, lips, face. The taste of your earthy sweet arousal and coppery lifesblood. No part of you was forbidden to him. He would fucking devour you whole before he let you think there was any part of you not worth his devotion.

Pleasure coiled so tightly in your belly you’d forgotten all about your previous pains. When your bliss peaked, you fell into a beautiful darkness that had you coming back to your body shaky and tingly. 

With uneven breaths, and a lopsided smile of release, you looked down the front of your body just in time to watch Daemon push up. Your husband was fucking magnificent. He looked insane. Crazed. The gleam of his Targaryen eyes zeroed in on you.

“You are the most irresistible creature,” he said, sitting up on his knees before pulling you up to him. 

Your relaxed muscles followed his movement. His smile was a dark, wondrous thing. Blood smeared his mouth, chin, nose. You’d never seen him like this before. You looked up at him, wordless and breathless, eyes communicating everything your mouth couldn’t.

Daemon’s hand wrapped around the front of your throat, holding and forcing your attention on him–as if your attention could be on anything else right now. “Kiss me,” he said. “Lick all your blood off my face like the good little wife you are.”

Tension thrilled throughout your entire body. Your eyes widened at his proposition. You gulped and opened your mouth to say something. But, again nothing came out.

“You heard me. Kiss me and tell me ‘thank you’ for eating your bleeding cunt.”

A sound came from you. A whine. A whimper. Something. And then your mouth was on his. You tasted yourself on him, your arousal and lifesblood, and it sparked something deep inside you. “Thank you,” you breathed against his mouth. Your kiss was all lips and tongue; a needy thing. “Thank you.”

He groaned in satisfaction. “Anything for you,” he said on the edge of humor. He still held your throat, but it was lighter now.

You licked over his lips. It felt… right. To worship him as he worshiped you. You licked up the center of his nose, then across the tip, before kissing over its bridge when it was clean. Your mouths crashed together again and he kissed you as fervently as you did him. It was debauched. Filthy. Yet… with Daemon–your husband–no limits existed.

“What do you say about making this a normal thing, hm?” He asked, releasing your throat to instead squeeze your breasts. Your nipples were already pebbled; eager as the rest of you. He rolled, and pinched, and squeezed the sensitive mounds, knowing how you enjoyed those played with, too.

You nodded wordlessly. The ache at your center roared to life again; lust demanding more. You behaved, though, and began licking over his chin. Your tongue dragged along it, the natural texture and taste of his skin sending yours prickling. He had small traces of your blood on his cheeks, too, and you lapped those away next.

“Such a good wife,” he said, proud. 

Your smile kissed him again. “I feel much better now.”

Smirking like the dragon he was, he pushed you back on the bed. He opened the ties of his breeches until his hard cock sprang free. With your thighs spilled around his waist he wasted no time in slotting between them. The head of his cock pressed against you, your wetness already coaxing him to slide into your body. “Let me in,” he growled.

“Please,” you moaned. “Easy, though. Please.”

He already planned that. Your plea was all he needed. With a push he sunk into you, filling you wholly and completely.  With gentle power, he fucked you until all of those cramping muscles were deeply relaxed. Until you were deeply relaxed.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

Masterlist

See comment section for my main taglist and Daemon taglist! To be added or removed from either, please hit me up!

#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon smut #daemon fic #daemon imagine

[aquagirl1978]

As most of you who follow me probably know by now, it was announced yesterday that this guy's sequel will be releasing on the 3rd of July. I thought it would be fun to celebrate him with a Route Release Campaign (I've never hosted one of these things for a route release so I'm stealing the name from @yanderepuck)

This will be a one week long event starting on June 25 and ending July 1. This event is open to writers, artists, and everyone in between. Prompts may be posted in any order throughout the event. Feel free to create for as many or as little days as you like.

When posting, simply tag me and state that this work is for this event. If anyone would like to use a banner, I have made one that you are free to use at the bottom of this post.

Now I know not a ton of people write and create for Chevalier (yes, I know he is difficult), so I'm going to add a slight twist to this event to entice more to participate- any works posted during this event do not need to be strictly Chevalier x Reader/Emma. As long as Chevalier is included in some way, these works can be just about anything - family interactions, a day with the foreign affairs faction, a love triangle, Clavis and Cyran digging traps and Chevalier scolds them. This week is about Chevalier - but I know there is more to him than just his relationship with Emma.

This event is SFW only and open to all - you'll notice most of the prompts do not lend themselves to NSFW works.

Works including OCs are allowed and I encourage you to share those creations as well.

Thank you to @chandeliermichel who helped me come up with this prompt list - I've included below some explanations/ideas for each prompt.

Day 1 - Love : Who/what does Chevalier love? what does love mean to him?

Day 2 - Family : This can include past, present, and future interactions with family members. Chevalier as a child, Chevalier as a parent.

Day 3 - Royalty : What does Chevalier's life look like as King? You may include interactions with foreign princes in this prompt (sorry, I don't have a "friend" prompt for that other guy).

Day 4 - Roses : Rhodolite is the Kingdom of Roses. A bit of a free space here.

Day 5 - Library : There's not many things Chevalier loves more than his books. This can include him reading, being gifted a new book, spending time in his library.

Day 6 - Dance : For a guy who doesn't like social interactions, he dances quite a bit in his route. This can include attending a ball.

Day 7 - Simpleton : This is the one day that is only for x Reader/Emma creations - I think this prompt is self-explanatory.

I have created a banner - it is free for anyone to use during this event.

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #chevalier michel #ikepri chevalier #otome #otome games #ikemen fanfic #ikepri fanfic

[siconetribal]

Put it on My Tab (15)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Warning:

Terrible drivers, Picking on someone not your size, Jason being cute while trying to look cool, Stupid cupid strikes again

A/N:

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!

As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me. @vbecker10 , thanks for always listening and helping with all my idea rambles! This story sold have been stuck off not for you.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

The evening traffic was not horrible, Jason had anticipated that it would be worse. The only terrible thing was the expensive brightly colored car that had cut him off when he tried to turn into the parking lot. Had it not been for his quick reflexes, he would have been forcefully acquainted with the pavement. He glared at the car as it took up two spots from poor parking. 

There’s no shortage of dumbasses here. He purposely parked a few spots away from the crazy driver when a well dressed woman came stomping over. Her mouth was moving and her eyebrows were furrowed, but he could not hear a thing thanks to the music that was currently playing through his helmet speakers. I’m guessing she’s pissed and trying to blame me for her shitty driving. He watched her arms flail about, motioning to the car that nearly hit him and his motorcycle. When she gave it a rough nudge in an attempt to knock it over, he frowned. Standing up at his full height, he looked down at the woman who stumbled a few steps back when she saw just how much bigger he was than her.  He scoffed at her attempt to try and paint him as the villain, but the lack of an audience only made her look even more ridiculous.

Huffing and puffing, she turned on her pointy heel and stormed into the cafe. Jason could only shake his head in response to the crazy person, grabbing something from one of his saddlebags. He carefully placed it in his jacket pocket, making his way inside and into the line. Normally he would’ve taken his helmet off by now, but he wanted to surprise a certain barista. What was not planned for was the rude customer causing a scene, the same person who nearly hit him with a care. Seeing as no one wanted to step up, Jason took matters into his own hands.

“Why don’t you call him? Since you say you know him so well, call him. Let him know that you’re harassing his employee for doing her job and following his rules implemented in his establishment.” He cut into the conversation, stepping forward as others made room for him. The look of shock on Y/N’s face when he removed the helmet was plenty of reward for his noble act, but he was selfish and wanted to do more. He wanted to see more of her reactions, but first he needed to get rid of the eyesore. 

The woman flinched at first, but when he removed the helmet her attitude completely changed for a third time. He noticed the flushed color on her face from all her shouting was quickly softening as she stood taller and fixed her clothing. It was painfully obvious that she found him attractive now that she saw his face and it took a good level of control to not roll his eyes and curse her out for making a mess wherever she went.

“I know how this might look just walking in, but she has been quite insolent this entire time. I am merely trying to teach her her place.” She was calmer, but her tone was cloyingly sweet. It made him feel suffocated and uncomfortable.

Don’t do it. She’ll tack on to Y/N and that’ll only cause more problems. “Not from what I’ve seen since you walked up here. Did you forget you nearly hit a biker with your car and cursed them out? Hi, that biker was me. Now, get your drink and sit quietly or leave, or you can call the owner and he can check the CC footage to see what happened. You pick,” he kept his tone leveled and firm. Any attempt of her flirting with him was clearly useless and he was not going to even entertain being anything except cold and disinterested. Her face paled and she ran off to the pick-up counter,

“Thanks for the help. I’m sorry you had to step in like that.” The genuine smile of relief she gave him was a direct shot to his heart. It injected warmth into his veins and filled his chest with immeasurable pride. There was also an ache underneath it all, but he pushed all of it aside to focus on the conversation.

“Don’t mention it, I told you, I save damsels in distress. You just happen to be in distress more often than most.” He smirked and winked at her, earning an eye roll in response. “I’ll have to insist you clock out for the rest of the day though. You look exhausted and after all of that, you deserve a free night at the least.” The two other employees were quick to jump in and assist him in trying to get Y/N out. Seeing as they had it under control he simply stepped aside and waited for her to come around after clocking out when his ears perked up at a particular word used to describe him. She’ll correct it, there’s no point in expecting anything else. Though he was smiling, that odd sting from earlier was back. Yup, any moment now. He sighed, waiting…and waiting. Only to hear the door open and close with no argument from Y/N. The next thing he knew, he was being dragged out into the chilly autumn night.

Wait, she didn’t correct them?! Does she not mind it? Well now, I guess I’m just meant to play the role.  Her coworkers waved and wished them a good night. Y/N refused to look back while Jason was grinning to himself. The first time he played the role of her boyfriend was way back when she was being harassed by some older guy who slipped something into her drink. Now he was being mistaken for it and it made him chuckle.

“What are you laughing at, oh great capeless crusader?” She scoffed, turning to face him as soon they were outside the doors. “Well, whatever drink you wanted to get is cancelled now. Sorry about that, you can head to some other coffee shop if you want. You don’t have to spend time with me or anything, I’ll just cross the street and play at the gaming lounge.” She pointed to the strip mall which he went to on that fateful day thanks to the IP address.

“And what kind of boyfriend would I be if I just bailed on you like that?” The grin on his face only grew into a smug smirk as she scowled back at him.

“The kind I actually have, nonexistent.” She managed to retort.

“So you’re single.” He mumbled to himself. Good to know. He logged the bit of information away as he looked across the street at the dying strip mall. Slipping his hands into his jacket pockets, he felt the smooth wrapping and paused for a moment. “I came all the way here to give you this.” He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sandwich bag with a zipper lock that held three dark squares in it. It was the brownies she had joked about earlier. “I’ve gotta make up for my lack of texting somehow.” He handed the baggie over to her and watched her carefully hold it in both her hands, wide eyed and smiling. Another direct hit to his heart at the purity and innocence of her happiness.

Y/N carefully cradled the confections in her hand, afraid to smush them even just a little bit. It was a simple gesture that made all the stress and frustration from the day quickly melt away. She really did want a brownie after talking to him about it, but the last thing she would have thought was him bringing her some. “Did you make these?”

“Yeah, I dabble in baking from time to time. I live on my own and living off of fast food has lost its appeal.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “They aren’t anything super fancy, I didn’t wanna risk putting in something you can’t have or you just won’t like.” Y/N ducked her head in hopes to hide the blush that was warming her cheeks as she gently placed the treats into her bag. She knew her initial judgment of him was not the kindest due to the coffee fiasco, but he proved himself to be someone more respectable and straightforward.

“Thank you, you really didn’t have to though. But if it helps, you did earn some points.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get. So, did you really want to go to the lounge or is there a chance I can sway your decision?” 

“Oh, what do you have in mind?” Y/N felt her facial temperature was more regulated at this point so she looked up at his face once more. He’s really too handsome for his own good. The price to pay for seeing it so often is pretty steep though.

“Maybe dinner, my treat? There’s a really great diner not too far from here. I always hit it up when I’m in the area.” She carefully considered his offer, looking over at the lounge. It had been a while since she last logged on and her usual buddy was nowhere to be found. She was hoping to possibly catch him tonight, but she knew there was no promise that he would be online. Biting at her lower lip, she tilted her head side-to-side as she debated on what to do. 

There’s a slim chance that Arkham_Knight might be online, but he could just message me and I can check on it later. Hottie Toddie over here actually brought me brownies and helped me with a horrible customer. She took a deep breath and turned her attention fully to Jason.  “Sure, let’s go to the diner. But uhm, how are we going to get there? You came here on a motorcycle, right?” I'll log in tomorrow, we usually meet during the week anyway. 

“Yeah, we’d just ride my bike. Why?”

“I’ve never been on one. All I know is you sit on it like you do any bike.” She rubbed the back of her neck, her gaze falling to the ground once more.

“I promise I’m a skilled rider, you just need to climb on behind and hold on tight.”

“Hold on tight? To what?”

“To me.” He offered her his hand. Seconds ticked by like minutes as he watched her look between him and his hands. Though he was very cool and confident in what he was saying, he was a mess inside. She could easily reject him and this would be an embarrassing mess. The thought of her declining felt wrong. He wanted her to say yes, he was wishing for her to say yes. The waiting was making him nervous and he was grateful that his gloves hid the cold sweat on his palms. “So, what’ll it be?” There's no reason for me to get nervous. 

“Mmm, ok.” He swallowed the sigh of relief that threatened to come out as she placed her hand in his. He wrapped his fingers around and instantly noticed how much larger his hand was compared to hers. 

“I’ll keep it slow, I don’t wanna scare you on your first ride. You’ll be wearing the helmet, too. It’s not far, so you don’t need to worry about me.” He rambled a little as he led her to his prized vehicle. “You can keep your bag in one of the side bags here.” He popped one open for her and she quickly deposited her items in it. As soon as she was done, he slipped the helmet over her head. It was a bit loose, but he fastened it as tightly as he could under her chin.

When the world suddenly grew muffled, Y/N nearly panicked. Thankfully the weight of the safety accessory helped her realize she was not fainting from exhaustion.

“Woah, this is a lot heavier than I expected. Are you sure it’s safe for you to not wear one? We could just call a taxi or take the bus?” She offered, fiddling the way it fit on her head. It's this hour a fish feels in a fish bowl? I kinda feel like I'm swimming in it. “It’s moving around a lot.”

“I’ll be fine, just don't move your head too much. Now, just follow my lead. You’ll need to sit real close and hold on to me.” She watched as he effortlessly straddled the bike, her gaze dropping to his muscular thighs that became more prominent now that he was on it. 

Quit staring , she scolded herself and looked further sken at her own two feet. It's a good thing I’m wearing pants. She nervously inched closer to the vehicle and hesitated before swinging a leg over. She teetered a little from the added weight to her head but managed to keep her balance and sat safely behind him. Her heart jumped into a bit of overdrive when she realized she was unable to touch the pavement when he straightened the bike. Reflexively she wrapped her arms around him and gripped as tight as she could without trying to hurt him. Though that fear was hard to believe now that she was reminded of just how solid he was. Now her heart was racing for an entirely different reason. She only hoped he was unable to feel or hear it.

Tag: @vbecker10@wordsfromshona@harlequin-hangout@harpy-space@tild3ath@gone-batty-fics@princessbl0ss0m@dakotali @antiquecultist

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader #y/n #jason todd fic #red hood x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x female reader #jason todd x you #jason peter todd #jason todd x female!reader #red hood fanfic #red hood x you #red hood fanfiction #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x y/n #your name #reader insert #batman #batman fanfic #batman fanfiction #tim drake #dc fanfiction #dc fanfic #dcu

[ranticore]

We know the werewolves were one guys specific indentured servants. Are there any other monsters that were just one specific guy’s? Actually. Is that wizard still around and how does he (it?) feel about it? Did Revelation’s specific underlings also get hit especially hard or just it?

Anyway your Kosa setting is cool as hell and I love everyone and also Revelation. And its wife guy (guy who is a wife guy to it).

hiii i'm going to answer all your asks in this one post to make things easier, thank you so much for giving me a lot of stuff to think about

Anyway, werewolves! It's accepted that pretty much every wizard had a lot of servants, this guy (Onozar The Transcendent, the green wyrm with red markings) just happened to have a lot in the general region i do most of my worldbuilding in (the two of Kosa is here, the Ama plains, other areas etc). That means werewolves are pretty common here, and have spread elsewhere from here, but other areas and regions have their own different population densities of werewolves and other 'beastified servant' type monsters.

Onozar isn't open about it, his faces are now very different to how he looked back in the day (aka the face on the werewolf masks) and he has very purposefully put his past behind him. Yes he did terrible stuff and was essentially a magical dictator once upon a time. But that was so long ago and he was punished for it so as far as he's concerned he's done with it and the werewolves are unrelated to him (and if somebody else brings it up omg you're all so obsessed with the past, don't you know people grow and change?? it was NORMAL to have slaves back then okay it was just part of the culture and it's honestly really suspicious and hurtful that you would bring this up to attack him at a time like this, and-)

Revelation was not a big shot among wizards. It had servants yes but not so many that they became their own species of monster (many of the monsterifications were chosen as a form of dramatic irony based on the individual person's personality). I still have to design a bunch of other monster types but I'll say yes they were probably hit harder than they should have been, everybody in and around Revelation's tower were made An Example.

It's a little easier to scapegoat the guy who has no real influence and no real friends in this social circle ain't it

He's only good at killing crawling beasts lol, that's partially why king harpies evolved after all - to fight and kill the crawlers, which are very strong but not very fast. His type eat mainly rabbits and hares, and he tends to be not quite fast enough to consistently catch them himself, the much swifter and smaller cobs and pens take care of that (he still runs far faster than a human tho, he's had some luck catching antelopes if he gets close enough before the chase). He is part of a flock, he just kinda... drifted away from living with the others, splitting his attention between Revelation and his other duties. Like many kings he's fighty and opinionated, with the added assurance of a creature that knows it's too big and strong to fall prey to... pretty much everything else. He enjoys art and beautiful things and has happily worked in alliance with the local wolfmen packs in the past in return for some of their dye products.

So his flock is a multi-type coalition between a collection of eyries (or whatever word I'll use for the small harpy settlements that form under the banner of a single flock). He's not the all-king of the flock, but he is the king of the terror bird types. The other types within the flock are all ground-nesting but not necessarily flightless harpies. His eyrie has about thirty individuals living there and he had three tiercels (not including Revelation). Revelation didn't kill all his flockmates but it did quietly disappear his other tiercels at some point. I need to do a little more work on them but yea

These different characters actually represent different time periods in the setting (the guy, Ambrose, is from the 1600s, while Mikalai and Cuinn come from the 1800s!). I think the whole thing with Revelation is much earlier, going for a more medieval look with those guys. It means that Revelation's march is technically just a part of history for Cuinn and the rest of them :) The world didn't end. But it DID change (.... not many wyrms around these days, anymore, i wonder what happened to them...)

#ice storm over kosa #lot less magic in the world by the 1800s as well wonder what happened to change that

[ericshoney]

The big 18 ~ Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: It's your 18th birthday and the guys want you to have the best time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the morning of your eighteenth birthday. Nick, Matt and Chris had woken up early to plan everything. You arrived in LA a week ago, oblivious to the guys plan.

The guys were setting up the living room, balloons and banners everywhere. A few gift bags sat around with the gifts they got you. Nick started cooking your favourite for breakfast, as Matt drove to the airport to collect Nate who was flying in as a surprise.

"What time is Madi coming over?" Chris asked as he placed another banner up.

"In an hour. I'm hoping that Matt and Nate come back and Madi arrives all before Y/n wakes up." Nick answered.

"I can stall her if needed." Chris offered.

"For once, you have a good idea." Nick replied.

Chris smiled and rushed up to Nick's room, where you had been crashing since you arrived. He slowly opened the door and saw you fast asleep still and smiled.

An hour later, Madi had arrived, placing her gift for you with the others. Matt messaged and said he and Nate were twenty minutes away just as you were waking up. Chris, who was sat outside the bedroom, heard you.

"Good morning, kid!" He cheered.

"Hmm, morning." You mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"Why.....Why are you up so early? And outside Nick's room?" You then asked.

"Oh, I couldn't sleep and wanted to just check on you." He lied easily.

"Okay....I'm gonna go shower." You said, believing him.

Chris nodded as he let you pick some clothes and head to the bathroom to shower. Once he heard the water running, he rushed downstairs to see Nick and Madi finishing cooking breakfast.

"She's awake and in the shower." Chris informed them.

"Okay Matt and Nate should be here by the time she gets out. Make sure she covers her eyes when she comes down." Nick instructed.

Chris nodded again as he rushed upstairs, sitting on Nick's bed, waiting for you to get out of the shower. When you did, he smiled.

"What's going on?" You asked.

"We have a surprise for you. Put this on." He answered, holding up a bandanna as a blindfold.

You raised your eyebrow but let him put it on you, as he led you downstairs carefully. Matt and Nate had arrived, now standing in the living room with Nick and Madi.

"If I fall down these stairs, your fucking dead." You warned Chris, making him laugh.

"Never gonna let that happen, kid." Chris said with a chuckle.

Once you got to the bottom of the stairs, Chris made you stand still, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Okay you can take the blindfold off." He said.

You took it off and suddenly confetti was thrown, your eyes going wide as you saw Madi and Nate standing there, along with all the balloons and banners.

"Happy birthday!" They all shouted.

You smiled wide, hugging Madi first, as you hadn't seen her in a while, then Nate, who you thought wasn't coming out, and finally, the triplets.

"Thanks guys." You said.

"This is just the start, sweetheart." Matt said.

You then noticed all the food on the table. You didn't believe Nick at first when he said he cooked it all, but when you ate it, you believed him. All of you sat around eating breakfast, laughing and joking before the guys said to open your presents.

First you started with Nick's. It was in a small green bag. You opened it and pulled out a couple of t-shirts you had your eye on at the store last time you went. You smiled and looked further into the bag and saw a small box. You opened it and pulled out a plain silver charm bracelet.

Next was Matt. His was in a pink box. You opened it and pulled out a few beauty products you loved and tucked inside was another smaller box. You opened it to see a bumblebee charm.

Third was Chris. His was in a yellow bag. You opened it and saw a new pair of Converse. Another box was also inside and when you opened it, you saw a number 18 charm.

Nate was next, he passed you a purple box. Inside were a few photo frames with many of your favourite pictures with him, Nick, Matt, Chris and Madi.

Finally was Madi. She passed you a red bag. Inside was a signed photo of your favourite actor. She also got you a set of stud earrings as well.

"Thank you so much. It really means a lot." You said after you opened everything.

"Your welcome, kid." Nick said, as he ruffled your hair.

You then all headed to the car, having a fun day ahead. You knew it was going to be a fun birthday.

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets oneshot #sturniolo triplets fanfic #sturniolo triplets x reader #nick sturniolo oneshot #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo oneshot #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo oneshot #christopher sturniolo #party #birthday #18th birthday #fluff #platonic #madi filipowicz #nate doe

[deafsignifcantother]

if music be the food of love chapter three

♥ here you go lovies, it's series time | chapter one ♥ chapter two ♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic to romance) ♥ word count: 2.4k ♥ pinterest board ♥ notes: chapter summary: alastor is a bit uncomfortable with how close he is with reader, which has never happened before since their friendship was private, but now that she is in the hotel he realizes that he has a potential weakness ♥ no tag list rn :3

Every now and then, in the room across from you, quiet jazz would play, rich only under the sound of your music, but it still reeks of exclamation uncharacteristic of the music's Earthly presence. It's a blistering noise that requires the knock on a door to stop. The sight of Alastor whenever he opens his bedroom door at the interruption of a knock strikes fear into the other residents. His smile is deadly, and his eyes burn into his peers. They get reminded of his power.

His charming mystery.

.

And he made the dress less than six inches from you when you slept. After a stirless sleep, you wake up to a dress draped on the mattress by your feet. The first thing you notice is the lace layers that are guaranteed to itch your skin. Tonight is your welcome party, a last-minute plan (due to your sudden appearance). There will be no dress code, no inch of modesty, but Alastor decides himself that you will be covered. Suffice it to say it is not a surprise, especially considering he isn't a fan of modern nudity, puffy skirts with breasts peeking out, heels too high to walk comfortably on dirt, and so forth, and would throw up if he saw you in such. Possessive or protected?

What you want to reveal is no business with him (as if you really would). But you are ready for your life to be led by his smiles and soft touches, as your new public appearance will need guidance; you are ignorant of current times. Or that's what you tell yourself.

Your old clothes, once your trusted companions, are now reclined over the lounge chairs by the fireplace. They have transformed like you (how did you end up at the Hazbin Hotel after being a fierce overlord?) into something different, something less familiar. But still, a better thought fuels you: this is a chance to renew.

After dressing, loosening your collar, and fidgeting with the length of your sleeves, you enter the hallway, not at all shy but not confident enough to assert your presence. The first good morning to Alastor is the hardest. You quickly discover that it flusters you to greet him so close to the time when you wake up. By his smile, you just know that your music is playing a symphony; curse that thing.

Your mind wanders into a world of memories, the fancy clothes you used to dress him in, the smile he would give you, and your music conjures the same smile; that's where you remember it from.

"See?" He motions up and down you. "The most exquisite lady I've seen in my death."

You almost finish an eye roll before he grabs your hand and kisses the back of it. The movement is not prolonged at all but so swift that you barely have a chance to process it. The way he swiftly turns around, his head going before his body, hints as to why. He must pull away before anybody spots the affection.

There could have been a better banner, but Angel spilled paint over one of the corners, and Charlie spent a few minutes crying in the limited time. You stare up at it with amazement anyway. Whose handwriting is that? It's better than most of the overlords.

"I don't think I've ever painted a banner before," you sign to Alastor. He nods, looking up at it, his smile growing. You continue, "I wonder if they would have let me help."

"Your own welcome sign? Not a chance, though Charlie loves a group activity, perhaps it was a bonding exercise."

Charlie hops over at the sight of her name sign, finally overcoming the awkwardness and not wanting to interrupt a conversation. Somehow, she thinks ASL feels more personal. Well, as do most hearing people.

"Do you like it? Do you like it?" She signs in only two motions, her eyes bright when she sees you understand her.

You give a small smile, placing your hands on hers to calm her down, her touch is extremely warm, before signing. "Thank you so much for this, I feel very welcomed. You're so kind."

"Yes," a simple word as her eyebrows furrow slightly with frustration at her small vocabulary. "I tried!"

Your eyes look around at the people, each patiently waiting for you to initiate a conversation by walking up. Since when did they get so awkward?

The moment you walk away, Charlie turns her attention to Alastor.

You give Nifty a small smile, looking at the cookies she impatiently holds. In contrast, Angel holds onto her waist, ensuring she doesn't rush over to you the moment she sees you. She drops the tray when you approach conversation stops, and they rattle on the metal. Angel lets her go with a slight look of hesitation. He doesn't even acknowledge you.

"A dress! A beautiful one!" She runs her fingers down her own dress as a classifier.

You nod. "That's due to Alastor, he—"

"Worked his magic? Your red matches his."

"Does it?"

You turn around, glancing for a second at the shade of his suit and then down at your dress. You suppose, but it is a bit darker, though that might be due to velvet. What you notice is your matching sleeves. While looking back at Nifty, she immediately starts signing again. Angel stands awkwardly, unsure if he should walk away, but he pays attention to the signing anyway. Would he be willing to learn? You hope.

"How full is your closet? What do the dresses look like? Are they naughty?"

You pick up a cookie awkwardly, giving it a small bite and signing with one hand only for the first sentence. "Well, Alastor is the one who needs to fill my closet and he hasn't yet. I doubt he'd let me wear something he would consider distasteful."

"How dare he..." she squints her eye at him.

"Right?" The slight smile on your face is contagious enough to lighten her face.

"How's the cookie? Do you like it? I didn't put any roaches in it this time." An invisible laugh leaves her lips.

You look down at it momentarily, a bit skeptical, lifting it again. No insect legs are visible, but you still put it back down, no longer taking bites. You started the day with the same soft classical music from your heart, but now it is a more jolly sound. Praying that you don't start making Angel uncomfortable, you give a small wave, which he returns. Then Husk comes to save the day with a freshly opened bottle in his hand while he signs with the other.

"Ain't seen a lick of sign language before."

"You hadn't either."

He smirks, the friendliness catching you a bit off guard. "First time for everything."

With the most neutral face you can muster in such a friendly environment, you begin to turn away. "Of course there is."

The air lightens as you turn back around, letting Husk and Angel have their conversation. Charlie is still excitedly talking to Alastor, copying his signs, and surprisingly so is Vaggie.

Once they notice you're watching, they stop. Charlie puts her hands behind her back and smiles awkwardly as if she had been caught in an act.

Less than ten minutes later, the event feels tiresome. Having Alastor interpret for you and dealing with hearing people attempting to sign becomes unbearable. Just like at the overlord meetings, you and Alastor side-eye each other constantly. The only positive you can think of is that Husk is not hiding away.

"Awfully tiring," says Alastor, crossing his legs from the couch where he sits next to you. "Why must I be subjected to these superficial conversations."

His claw circling around his knuckles is smooth enough to allure your interest. His hands are so careful, so lovely. Hiding your interest, you give him your usual small smile.

In your imagined scenarios, you can force a yawn and say you are going to bed, and Alastor would be there to tuck you in as he did years ago. Perhaps you'd wake up to a bouquet of dead roses. Foolish girl, you can almost imagine him telling you if he were a mind reader.

As you look around again, scanning to ensure no one has been trying to get your attention, Vaggie's eyes connect with yours. Her brow raises in recognition, understanding. Your shoulders stiffen, and the shame pulsating in your heart is the worst feeling in the world. But that is before Charlie captures your attention again, flashing her same old smile and hopping up and down.

And then she motions behind you. Angel brings out a cake, holding it steadily, looking down at it with a bit of jealousy. Instead of helping when the cake was baking, Angel stood at the kitchen doorway and watched how the residents came together. He was invited to help of course, but he hated what they were celebrating.

You can't help but let your eyes widen. The cookies and now this?

While you wait for Charlie to get ahold of herself and her squeals (as if the cake was made for her), you stand and hold your hands in front of you, not exactly understanding what to do at this moment. Nifty comes to distract you, climbing up your body and fiddling with the collar of your dress. You let her.

"I hope it's good," Charlie figures out how to say. "We cooked together, for you!"

Charlie believes in ending a day with something that can make somebody smile. And here you are, smiling at her, not caring to hide your facial expressions. Your music exposes your emotions enough.

The cake gets placed on the table in front of the couches, and you sit on the carpet, legs folding under you. Your soon-to-be friends huddle around. Will they trust you with a knife? Apparently so, and you make sure to hold it carefully. You're not going to let your status as an ex-overlord scare them enough to not trust you with something as simple as a knife. It slices perfectly, the cake having a perfect texture, looking so soft inside. Your hand twitches, your claws digging a bit into your palm, but not noticeable enough to worry anyone. Is this a trap? No, Charlie wouldn't allow that. But what if this is why Husk has been so friendly.

You finish slicing, managing to cut it evenly. It reminds you of the living world, the times you've watched people cut cakes, especially as a kid. Alastor doesn't mind your souring mood until he notices that your melodies are transitioning into a minor key. In an instance, unconsciously (well, regrettably subconsciously), he uses his shadows to form next to you, leaning in close while taking the knife from your hand and spinning it, making it disappear into flames. The overall mood hasn't changed, but the moment he moves to summon a plate, your eyes lock on his movements. Alastor has gotten so considerate towards you that he touched something so sweet, holding the plate in his hand with a fork.

It happens, something unpredictable.

Everybody watches as he lifts a bite and holds it to your lips. You blink before your eyes brighten. Just like that, you lean forward and wrap your lips around the fork, your focus sharpening; everybody is watching. It distracts you from basking in the enchanting taste.

"Excellent," he puts the plate down and puts all his effort into not grimacing at the sight of it. "Wasn't that nice?"

You hold your breath, determining whether that is rhetorical or sarcastic. You go along with it, shrugging and leaning a bit forward, tilting your head, something you used to do when you wanted him to touch his forehead with yours.

You pretend he does, closing your eyes to ignore his stiff posture, and you pull away.

Charlie mends you with a gaze as kind as an innocent child. Something passes between you two. Is your attraction to him that obvious? Curses.

That's the most sinister part of Hell.

He walks you to your bedroom just as you hoped he would, but he doesn't step inside. He does wrap his arms around you, though, his voice vibrating against your body. Stop speaking, you want to say, but you don't dare pull away. All you can do is drown in the gratefulness of the once-ordinary affection. His constant withdrawal is obvious, and of course you understand why. But you assumed behind closed doors he would revert back to the lovely language you two share. But no, he doesn't. He doesn't even try.

Pulling away involves letting go of the warmth of his body. You already miss the feeling of his breathing. He puts a hand behind your neck and does what you crave the most, rests his forehead against yours. His bangs brush your hairline, and you smile.

"Thank you," you sign. Alastor's smile grows, becoming soft, and his eyes flicker around, his shadow spinning down the hall before he takes your hand, just like in the morning. He presses his lips to your knuckles, closing his eyes and exhaling while he pulls away. With the moment of eye contact, his hand slips away from you, and without further words, he leaves into his room.

Your bedroom feels especially empty when you close the door in front of him. That's not the way it should be.

The large window attached to your room hardly offers a view of the beautiful city. This hill should be high enough to spot the different sections, but the huge buildings within the middle of the city shields a lot of the environment.

You only get three steps closer to the window when you worry he's just standing in front of your door. It's such a pointless thought, a momentary wish. Maybe he is waiting for you to realize his presence and offer him entrance. But when you open it, you're met with nothing, nobody. Unfortunate.

You need to stop fantasizing like a little girl.

You decide to distract yourself with the privilege of staying at such a prestigious building.

You cut through the sign on the roof toward the dark red lining of the end of the roof. Awestruck, your eyes widen, and you halt in place. You can see the entire Pentagram Circle from high above, and your music gets loud enough to hear from the ground. The different gradients of red you would have never been able to see until now reflect in your eyes, the same way moonlight would. A cool breeze messes with the lace on your sleeves and rubs against your skin as you knew it would when you put the dress on.

When the rare clouds begin to hide the lighting from the radiant Pentagram above, the breeze starts to freeze, and Heaven's clock becomes the brightest light. Back inside you go. As always.

#x deaf reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #alastor x reader

[kmomof4]

A Scoundrel... Or a Gentleman?

Ch. 6

We're back! A shorter chapter this time - much shorter, actually - but I hope y'all will forgive me with how it ends. That's right, we earn our rating this chapter! If smut is not your thing, stop at the double scene change line...

*~*~*

*~*~*

Thank you again to @jrob64 for all her help with this fic and to @snowbellewells for the banner above and to @motherkatereloyshipper for the chapter art she made for the beginning of the fic. And finally thank you all again for coming along on this journey with me! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Words: 4237 of approx 59,5K

Rating: M (smut)

Tags: Regency Romance, Inspired by Francesca Bridgerton's Story, Smut

On ao3 From Beginning / Current Chapter

On Tumblr Prologue Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615 @donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings @booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza @djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90 @suwya

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Coward was not normally a word used to describe Emma Nolan Jones. But when faced with being called that or a fool, she’d take coward every time.

Because only a fool would have remained in London or in the same house even, as Killian Jones after that kiss.

It had been…

No. She wouldn’t think about it. Because if she did, she’d feel guilty and ashamed. 

She wasn’t supposed to feel like this about anyone, much less Killian. The most she had expected was a pleasant tingly feeling when she kissed whoever became her new husband, and to be completely unaffected otherwise. She couldn’t conceive of actual physical pleasure… but there had been when she and Killian kissed. In abundance.

Killian had kissed her. And she had kissed him back. And since then, she couldn’t stop imagining his lips all over her body. The nights were the worst. Lying in her large bed, alone, she burned until she’d finally fall into a restless sleep, only to dream about the wicked fantasies she was mostly able to keep at bay during the daylight hours.

No. It was wrong to fantasize about Killian. She would have felt awful feeling this kind of desire for anyone, but Killian…

He was Liam’s brother. Which made him her brother. She shouldn’t have kissed him.

Even if it had been the best kiss in her remembrance.

And that was why she’d chosen coward over fool. Because she did not trust herself to resist him.

She’d been back in Scotland for nearly a week now, trying to immerse herself in the mundane, day to day running of the large estate. There was always something to do - accounts to review and balance, visits to make - but instead of soothing her troubled spirit, it only made her feel more restless and unsettled, like something inevitable was coming and she was waiting on tenterhooks until it did. It had gotten to where she’d started taking daily walks around the estate. Walks that lasted for hours. She’d put on her most comfortable boots and trek around Kilmartin until she was utterly exhausted. Not that it helped her sleep any better, but at least she was trying.

She arrived back to the house just as the afternoon storm rolling in was beginning in earnest. Thankfully, only a fine mist had developed thus far and so she planned to indulge in some hot tea and perhaps some chocolate biscuits in her bedchamber. As soon as she entered the front hall, Davies the butler arrived to take her cloak.

“My lady?” he asked as she handed it to him. “You have a visitor.”

“A visitor?” That was odd. The only people who’d visit Kilmartin had already removed themselves to Edinburgh or London for the season.

“Well, not precisely a visitor, my lady.”

Killian. It had to be. When he hadn’t chased her right away, she’d thought she’d been granted a reprieve. Apparently not. 

“Where is he?”

“In the rose drawing room.”

“Has he been there long?”

“No, my lady.”

She nodded her dismissal and then turned and forced herself forward toward the drawing room. She really shouldn’t be dreading this so intensely. It was only Killian, after all.

Although, she rather suspected, he’d never be only Killian ever again.

She’d imagined their reunion a hundred times, imagined his words to her, planned her words to him - although now faced with the imminent prospect of saying them aloud, they sounded rather trite and inadequate. She was just going to have to make it up as she went along.

She stepped into the room to see him facing the window. Was he watching for her? He looked weary - his shoulders slightly slumped, his hair windswept. She couldn’t help the small smile that touched her lips when she remembered that he sometimes preferred sitting out in the elements with the driver of the carriage for long journeys, feeling too closed in within its confines.

She didn’t speak. Not yet. He’d turn around in a moment anyway. For now she just needed to acclimate to his presence. To make sure her breathing and heart rate remained steady.

“Emma.” 

He didn’t even have to turn around to sense her presence. She wasn’t surprised. He had a tremendous ability to always be aware of what was going on around him. He’d once told her it was how he survived the war. No one was able to sneak up on him.

“Yes.” The silence stretched long between them before Emma spoke again, unable to endure it. “I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

He turned to her and Emma caught her breath at his beauty. She’d been taken aback when she realized how handsome he was back in London, but here, he seemed more wild, untamed, elemental almost. Utterly dangerous to her soul.

“Yes, very much so.” Silence reigned again and Emma struggled not to fidget. 

“Is everything alright in London?” she asked. Perhaps he had some practical reason for coming. Because if he didn’t, then he’d come simply for her and she wasn’t quite sure what to do with that knowledge.

“Yes, everything is fine,” he replied. “Though I do have some news.”

“Oh?” she asked, tilting her head slightly in inquiry.

“Will and Belle. The date of their nuptials has been moved quite a bit forward,” he informed her.

Emma was surprised and wondered what reason could have compelled them to do so.

“When?”

“Two weeks hence.”

Emma’s brows shot to her hairline. “Two weeks?!” she exclaimed.

Killian took a step toward her. “Two weeks,” he confirmed. “I thought you would like to know.”

He was moving closer to her and in her shock, Emma was finding it hard to draw a deep breath.

“I do appreciate your thoughtfulness in coming here to tell me.” He continued taking slow, methodical, measured steps toward her. Emma cast around for something, anything, else to say. Anything to distract him, and herself, from his projected path toward her. “Will you be staying long?”

Another step. He was halfway across the room now. “I haven’t decided. It depends.”

“On?”

“On you,” he said softly.

She knew what he meant. Or she thought she did. But what happened in London was the very last thing she desired to talk about, so she pretended to misunderstand.

“Don’t be silly,” she chided him. “Kilmartin is yours. You can come and go as you please. I have no control over you.”

“Do you really believe that?” He’d halved the distance between them again.

“I- I’ll have a room prepared for you,” she blurted out. “Which would you prefer?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he informed her, taking yet another step toward her.

“The earl’s chamber, then,” she said, her heart racing and well aware that she was babbling. “It’s only right. I’ll move down the hall, or to another wing.” She was mumbling by the time she finished and he took another step, now standing right in front of her.

“That may not be necessary.” His words were whispered. She could feel his warm breath across her lips. Her eyes snapped up to his. Surely he wasn’t suggesting… he didn’t really think their kiss in London meant that he could avail himself of the connecting doors between the earl and countess’ bedchambers? Did he? 

“Close the door,” he commanded, gesturing to the open door behind her with his chin.

“I’m not sure…” she began.

“I am.” His voice was low, steel wrapped in the softest velvet. “Close it.”

She did. She didn’t know exactly why she did, but she did. And the moment her hand left the knob, she hurried to the other side of the room, putting some much needed space - and the room’s entire seating group - between them. He looked at her, raising his eyebrow, but he looked more amused than annoyed.

“I have given matters quite a bit of thought since you left London,” he informed her. Emma swallowed hard. She had done the same, but there was hardly any point in mentioning it. “I didn’t mean to kiss you.”

“No!” she blurted out. “Of course not! There was no reason…”

“But now that I have… now that we have…”

Damn. He wasn’t going to allow her to pretend that she wasn’t every bit a participant in it as he was.

“Now that we have,” he repeated, the intensity of his gaze making her catch her breath, “I’m sure you understand everything has changed.”

“Of course,” she murmured, trying to ignore the way her breath hitched. He moved to the sofa and gripped the top until his knuckles were white. Was he nervous? She looked back at his face and noticed the tightness around his lips and then the way his eyes skittered away from hers for a moment. She’d never seen him nervous before. The suave, debonair gentleman she knew had never been nervous a moment in his life. 

“As I said, I’ve given the matter a great deal of thought,” he continued, “and I’ve come to a conclusion that may seem a bit odd at first, but I really believe it is the best course of action.”

As she watched him and waited for him to tell her whatever his conclusion was, her heartbeat slowed back to a normal rhythm. Misery may love company, but so did anxiety, and seeing him so ill at ease about their shared moment, made her feel marginally better, knowing at least that he had not been unaffected.

“I believe that we should be married.”

What?

Her lips parted.

What?

And then she finally said it out loud. “What?” 

Not I beg your pardon, not excuse me, not even I’m sorry? I must have misheard. Simply What?

“Be married,” he repeated, completely serious. “If you will listen to my reasons, I’m sure you’d agree.”

“Are you mad?”

He seemed a bit taken aback at her question. “I… don’t believe so, no,” he confirmed, shaking his head, looking just a little puzzled.

“I can’t marry you, Killian.”

“Why not?”

She must look like a fish out of water, simply gaping at him. If she hadn’t heard it out of his own mouth, with her own ears, she never would have believed it.  It was one thing to want, to feel desire, but it was another thing entirely to contemplate holy matrimony. This had truly knocked her world off its axis.

“I… I just… can’t!” she exclaimed. “Surely you, of all people, can see how utterly insane this is!”

“I will allow when it first came to me, I had much the same reaction,” he said, mildly. “But again, if you’ll listen to my arguments, I believe you’ll agree.”

She could think of nothing else to say. When she didn’t move or speak again, Killian took a step forward and began ticking off his reasons on his fingers. “You won’t have to move. You will retain your title and position.” He glanced up at her, his eyebrow raised in inquiry of her thoughts. He may have a valid, two valid points so far, and she could admit it would make things most convenient, but they were hardly a reason to marry Killian…

“You will enter into the marriage knowing beyond any shadow of a doubt that you’ll be cared for and respected,” he continued. “The season is designed to make matches, but you don’t really know a person until you’ve lived with them. And we’ve been close friends for years. No one knows me like you do, and I daresay I know you like no one else.”

She could see his point, but with this proposal, she questioned just how well she knew Killian Jones. It just didn’t seem possible that he conceived of this preposterous idea.

“I will give you children,” he said softly. His words made her die a little inside and she couldn’t contain the quiet whimper that passed her lips. “Or at least, I will try.”

Now his words brought something to life inside her, pictures forming in her mind that had no business being there in the first place. Hot, sweaty bodies and moans of passion. She shut those images down immediately and asked a question of her own.

“What will you gain?”

He looked almost startled at her inquiry, but quickly schooled his features. “I’ll have a wife who has been running my estates for years. I’m not so proud as to refuse your far superior knowledge.”

She nodded in acknowledgement, her cheeks flushing slightly at the compliment. Why she blushed at his praise and not at the mention of the creation of children, she’d never know.

“Again, as I said, I believe no one on earth knows me as well as you do, and I you, in addition to the trust between us,” he said. “I know you would never stray.”

“Of course not,” she murmured, remembering a similar conversation four years ago. She spun away from him and placed her hands over her ears. “I can’t. I can’t hear anymore. I can’t think about this, Killian. Not now. I’m going upstairs. I’ll have to talk to you about it tomorrow.”

She stood up straight and took one step toward the door when he grasped her arm. His touch was light, but his strength held her fast. She couldn’t move.

“Wait.” His voice was a whisper. She wasn’t facing him, but she could see his face in her mind’s eye. The way his dark hair skirted over his brow, the scruff that lined his jaw, the blue, blue eyes the same color as a perfect summer sky. And his lips. His perfectly shaped, full lips. The ones that almost always wore the supremely devilish expression, as if he were the keeper of all kinds of wicked secrets. Secrets mere mortals knew nothing about.

His hand traveled up her arm to the curve of her shoulder and then to her neck, running his fingers lightly over her skin until they reached her earlobe and then back down again, leaving chill bumps in their wake.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. And then he did.

“Don’t you want another kiss?”

He didn’t know when he realized he would have to persuade her. He’d tried to appeal to her practicality and good sense, and it wasn’t working. It couldn’t be about emotion, because that was one-sided.

So it would have to be about passion.

And from her response to his kiss in London, he knew she wanted him. And, oh God, he wanted her. More than he’d ever believed possible. This was the only way he’d be able to claim her, to make her his. In a way she could not deny. Words, thoughts, and ideas she could talk herself out of. But leaving his imprint on her physically, a part of him would always be with her. And she would be his.

She slipped out from beneath his fingers and put a few steps between them.

“Don’t you want another kiss, Emma?” he murmured, stalking her with predatory grace.

“I- it was a mistake…” she stammered. She backed up a step, but was stopped by the sofa.

“Not if we marry.”

“I can’t marry you, Killian,” she said, a note of pleading in her voice. “You know that.”

He took her hand and idly rubbed the skin with his thumb. “I really don’t. Why do you think we can’t marry?”

“Because I… you… you’re you.”

“True,” he replied, lifting her hand and pressing his lips to the center of her palm. Then his tongue darted out and traced the veins under the skin of her wrist. “And right now, for the first time in a very long time, there’s no one I’d rather be.” He looked up through his lashes to see her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth hanging slightly open, her eyes unblinking as he moved up towards her elbow, leaving soft, teasing kisses.

“Killian,” she moaned, taking a deep breath.

“Killian, no, or Killian, yes?” he asked, kissing her shoulder.

A keening whimper escaped her lips and Killian smiled.

*~*~*~

*~*~*

“Fair enough,” he replied, nudging her chin until her head lolled back, exposing the long expanse of her neck. He proceeded to ravish the skin there. His lips, teeth, and tongue leaving not an inch of skin ignored. 

He moved down from her neck to her chest, to the edge of the bodice of her dress and grasped it with his teeth. Emma gasped, but she didn’t tell him to stop, so he pulled, pulled, and pulled until her breast spilled out. God, he loved women’s fashions.

“Killian?” 

“Shhhhh,” he admonished her. He didn’t want to answer any questions. He didn’t want her thinking coherently enough to ask one. He ran his tongue along the newly exposed skin and circled the tip before blowing gently on it. He reached up and cupped her in the palm of his hand. He’d touched her through her clothing before, but nothing compared to the feel of her naked weight in his hand. “Shall I kiss you?” he asked. He was taking an enormous risk asking the question. Every time he did, gave her the opportunity to change her mind. He may have resigned himself to seducing her, but he couldn’t do it without at least one word of assent from her. “Shall I?” he asked again, this time blowing gently on the turgid flesh to sweeten the deal.

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Yes, please, Killian!”

“As you wish,” he murmured before covering her with the warm cavern of his mouth. He poured all his years of passion and desire onto her breast, leaving love bites all over her skin before soothing them with his tongue.

“Oh, my god!” she moaned, arching into him. Her fingers plunged into his hair and held him to her, not that he was complaining. Oh, no. Not at all. His mouth continued to make love to her breast as he lifted her to sit on the back of the sofa. Her legs spread for him and he stepped in between them, never halting his ministrations.

Pure joy surged through him as he continued loving her. He’d despaired of ever holding her, of ever making love to her, and now here she was, soft, warm, and trembling in his arms. He loved that he could do this to her. Make her a slave to her own needs and desires. She was normally so strong, so cool and composed, but right now, she was simply and purely his.

Her gasps and moans became louder and more frequent as his hands worked their way steadily upward. First, he gripped her ankles, then slid them up her calves until he grasped her knees. Now they slowed as he pushed the skirt of her dress further up her thighs, exposing the creamy expanse of skin he lightly ran his fingers over. Her dress still fell between her legs, hiding her most intimate spot from his gaze as he pulled back from her slightly. Just enough to see the effect his lovemaking had on her.

He inhaled sharply at the breathtaking sight. Her skin was flushed a rosy hue, her eyes the dark green of a forest glen at midnight and half lidded in her desire. Her lips were swollen and a deep red from his kisses, her golden tresses mussed and framing her face like a halo.

“You like it.” It was a statement, not a question and Killian was pleased when she could manage nothing more than a shaky inhale and affirmative bob of her head. “Would you like to hear it? Would you like me to tell you everything I want to do to you?” 

There he was again, giving her the opportunity to change her mind. Her countenance told him she was too far gone for refusal to even enter her mind. But he still needed her yes, every step of the way. He knew the chances she’d regret this after the fact were pretty decent, but he didn’t want her to be able to say, even to herself, that she didn’t agree, that she wasn’t a full partner in any of this.

“You used to ask me all the time,” he murmured in her ear, in between open mouth kisses on her neck. “‘Tell me something wicked, Killian,’ you’d say. But I never would. A gentleman never kisses and tells, after all. I always left you outside the bedroom door. But not now. Oh, no. Not now, Emma. Would you like me to tell you? Hmmm?”

She nodded, unable to speak. 

Killian smiled wickedly and inhaled deeply through his nose, her scent of vanilla and lavender filling his sinuses. 

“I’d hardly know where to start,” he whispered into the skin of her neck. “I think I might need to start here,” he murmured, kissing down the slope of her neck to her chest. He sucked a mark into the swell of her breast and the sound that passed her lips - he’d never be able to describe it - set him on fire.

“But it wouldn’t be enough, would it?” he asked, his voice husky with desire, “For either of us. So I’d have to leave your delectable breasts to kiss you here.” He pressed his thumbs into the softness of her inner thighs. 

She gasped.

“And then here.” Now he moved his hands higher on her thighs to caress the crease between her legs and torso. “Yes, I think you would enjoy a kiss here. Oh, but not just one. Many. And you’d probably enjoy them almost as much as I’d enjoy giving them.”

A keening whimper fell from her lips and Killian almost lost himself.

“And finally…” his voice was only a whisper now, fraught with need, “I’d kiss you here.” His fingers found the center of her femininity and began stroking, the wetness collected there bathing his fingers with her essence. Emma clung to him, her hands clutching his biceps as her hips rocked into his touch. “I truly don’t know how long I’d spend here. Pleasuring you. Bringing you to the heights of ecstasy. You might not want me to stop. I don’t know if I’d ever want to stop. Do you want me to stop?” A broken moan burst from her at his question. “Do you?” He stopped the motion of his fingers, but left them exactly where they were. He pulled back just slightly to allow her some room to look at him before giving her answer. 

Her pupils were completely blown with arousal, only the thinnest rim of green surrounding them. Her mouth hung open slightly, her breath stuttered and her chest heaved as she tried to draw in a deep breath.

“Do you?” he asked again.

She couldn’t meet his eyes, but she shook her head in the negative.

“Say it, Emma,” he urged her. “I want to hear the words.”

“No, Killian,” she finally breathed. “I don’t want you to stop.”

His heart leapt. 

“Then I’d better get busy.” 

He began with her neck, kissing down the exposed slope to the swell of her breast. He pulled the edge of her dress again, freeing her other breast from its confines and sucked a matching mark to the first into its swell. He lifted her from the back of the sofa, her legs wrapping around his hips as he carried her to the arm. Once he sat her upon it, he fell to his knees and worked his way up both her legs, kissing, sucking, and biting, until he found himself at the apex of her thighs and she was completely exposed to his sight. He hummed with delight and flicked his tongue out to taste. The gasp that passed her lips made his heart sing. He licked and laved, capturing every drop that coated her folds, his own moan of delectation pressed against them.  He brought her to the brink and pulled back. A groan of disappointment burst from her lips, but for this, their first time together, he wanted to feel her around him when she fell.

His hands shook as he opened his breeches. Emma’s eyes opened, still hazy with passion, and they widened when she saw him exposed.

“I need you, Emma,” he said huskily.

She nodded once, quickly, and fell down to the seat of the sofa, bringing him with her until he covered her. They moved together toward the other arm until they were stretched out completely, Killian cradled in between her thighs. He pushed her dress back up to her waist and entered her. She was so wet and ready for him, she swallowed him whole, until he reached the opening of her womb. She gasped at the intrusion, but clung to him with all her might.

“Did that hurt?” he asked, desperation coloring his words.

She shook her head, still beyond speech, but the motions of her body told him exactly what she needed. She lifted her hips to meet his in the timeless dance of passion. Each of them was so ready, it was only moments before her walls fluttered around him and they both exploded in ecstasy.

As they came down, Killian realized that he’d been nothing but a green lad, no matter that he couldn’t count the number of women he’d slept with. Because it had never been like this. 

Those had been his body. 

This was his soul.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! Next chapter will be up Tuesday night before I go to bed.

#a scoundrel... or a gentleman? #krystal writes #inspired by francesca bridgerton's story #banner by snowbellewells #ch art by motherkatereloyshipper

[thoughtsonlou]

I just got back to my hotel after the Away From Home Festival and I needed to document my thoughts! This is the third festival in a row that I have attended and so far, this was my personal best experience. In Spain, I had planned poorly and ended up feeling dehydrated and sick, Italy was a travel nightmare (and the worst merch stand experience I have ever had), but Mexico was organized so well. Starting off, I actually got my bracelet this time (unlike Italy where most of them got thrown in the trash??). The merch line was short and efficient (I got a beautiful t-shirt—Louis’ merch never misses). The entire area was lively with colorful food stands, banners, lights, a giant AFHF sign in front of some stone. There was plenty of space, but it still felt like there were a lot of people there. The atmosphere was so chill, I loved it. Surprisingly, I never felt hot, the sun went down quickly and there was a gusty breeze most of the night.

Now for the music…

I completely missed Rodrigo Leal. I could hear Gibby while I went through the line outside (and I saw him later getting photos with fans). I thought he sounded great. I listen to some of his songs sometimes. Reverend and the Makers were better than I thought they would be. The lead singer fumbling with the Mexican flag was a bit comical, but they sounded tight as a group. Honestly, Dylan was kind of my favorite (of the openers). I didn’t really vibe with her music before the concert, but she was great on stage, and I respect that she cut all the Harry stuff. She added a rock edge to her more pop-y songs, and it changed them for the better. I don’t know she was just so charismatic on stage I dug it. Kevin Kaarl was clearly adored by the audience. Unfortunately, I don’t speak a word of Spanish, so I did not understand anything (and may have taken a bit of a snooze on the ground during his set). However, that is not to say I thought he was bad, quite the opposite. It was a nice change of pace, and his voice was moving. I love the DMA’s and were stoked that they were performing this year. They did not disappoint. I was a little distracted because Oli was like fifteen feet away from me singing along and dancing it was really cute 😊. It was so cool to have such a big band there at Louis’ festival. Ooooh the lineup was certainly my favorite of all the AFHFs I have been to so far. Spain is a close second, but I truly loved every act here, and in the case of Dylan, found her way more compelling in person.

Now for Louis…

He is pretty isn’t he. I can’t believe he essentially wore the poster as his outfit. His hair was perfect, and his skin glistening.

My top five songs from the night (in order of the setlist) were: MEGAMIX—All this time is the perfect song argue with the wall, and the live album made me appreciate the intro and transition between att and sibwawc even more than before, I though all of those sounds were prerecorded track, but I saw Steve messing with one of those sound board thingies in real time… neat! WALLS—this song just makes me emotional, especially when the crowd is so into it like they were tonight. BACK TO YOU—as much as I love a sappy moment, a festival set should be energetic and fun, and that’s what back to you is, she had me jumpin’. SATURDAYS—I admire that he has the confidence to sing alone at the microphone with hardly any backing instrumental for that long, it is so pretty, but when that build up pays off it is soooo good, the wall of sound was really taking the pain away on this Saturday. SILVER TONGUES—trust I meant it when I said, ‘I don’t feel like going home,’ what a jovial song I’m smiling just thinking about it, this song fills me with warmth!!

The instrumental outro is sick, and I can never remember what it sounds like, so that was fun to hear. I was trying not to be a grouch about the 1d songs, but why is night changes there for real? If he replaced it with We Made It, or HEADLINE?!?!?! this would be a darn good setlist. Drag me down is actually pretty good in my opinion. Where do Broken Hearts Go is fine live, but I dislike it in principle (if you’re going to sing a 1d cover, at least pick one you wrote on?).

The worst part of the night was when Chris walked right in front of me during night changes.

The best part of the night was going balls to the walls during Silver Tongues.

Truly the night (especially Louis’ set) flew by! I had a great time and cannot wait to see what is in store for next year :)

#faith in the future #afhf 2024

[carlos-in-glasses]

Thank you for the tag lovely and gorgeous writers @alrightbuckaroo @reyesstrand @bonheur-cafe @catanisspicy @theghostofashton @lemonlyman-dotcom @chaotictarlos ❤️

One last section of Hands Fic before it's posted!

“Can I tell you something else?” Carlos asks.

“Yeah, baby, of course you can.” TK stares up at him, wide-eyed and dewy, the pleasure in his body starting to roll and spike again as Carlos presses his middle fingertip carefully but relentlessly inside him.

“Since you’ve moved in, I always think of the same thing just before I go to sleep. Like, it helps me fall asleep.” Carlos blushes. It’s a small pinkness, but TK can detect it shining amongst the golden warmth of his skin. “It’s not really a sex thing. I mean, it sort of is. We were naked. Your first night here. You said you were too tired to do anything much. I asked if you wanted me to hold you.”

“I said yes. I wanted you to hold me all night.”

“You took your clothes off and I thought you were going to put your pajamas on, but you didn’t. You just stood in front of me.” Carlos’ breath changes – shakes in a different way. “I stripped off. We looked at each other naked. And touched each other. I don’t know for how long. Then we got into bed, and we kissed for a while. You wanted to rub my back but you were so exhausted, so I rubbed yours. You fell asleep. I was awake, like, all night, almost. Because you asked me to hold you. I didn’t want to sleep because I thought I might let go and I didn’t want to. But now I do go to sleep thinking about it. I go to sleep holding you while remembering holding you. You’re in my mind, TK, and my body. It’s like I’m flooded with life when I touch you, but with peace as well. Do you know what I mean?”

A lump rises in TK’s throat. He tries to blink away his tears, but lying down, gravity drags them from his eyes and [redacted].

Carlos doesn’t do the usual thing. The whispery “hey hey hey hey” hushing. He doesn’t stop to hold him. He keeps working his hand up and down TK’s c*ck, keeps the fingers of his left hand inside him, and he watches TK cry, letting a few tears of his own sweep down his face, and together they just feel it. They feel what it’s like to be back together, with the full knowledge of what it’s like to be apart, to have thought they would never touch each other like this again. For the first time since [redacted], TK finds himself truly in the moment. His mind fogs around the past, and he lets it go without even realizing. He watches Carlos’ perfect hands feel him intimately, and he breathes the way Carlos tells him, filling his body with air.

Tagging: @freneticfloetry @taralaurel @goodways @welcometololaland @liminalmemories21 @strandnreyes @rmd-writes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @ladytessa74 @never-blooms @chicgeekgirl89 @mikibwrites @basilsunrise @wandering-night19 @rosedavid @iboatedhere @lightningboltreader - if you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever, just rainbows and high-fives 🤚🌈

#WIP Wednesday #My fic #tarlos fanfiction #I made a banner!!! I have a banner now!!! #Proud of my little amber glowy banner

[cozylittleartblog]

etsy is waiving their 6.5% transaction fees for orders made through a seller's special shop link now through february 15th, so if anybody would like to order from my shop this is a really good time 👉👈 as a reminder, all stickers ship free in the 50 US states

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(reblogs appreciated!)

#small business #etsy #etsy shop #artist support #delete later #actually if you plan to order Anything from etsy use my link but put whatever shop name u want in place of mine #it'll waive the fees for them too #or at least it should #i need to update my banner to have some of my newer products in it. i made this almost a year ago now

[the-priestess-of-dawn]

Grima and Final Blows

The other day I mentioned that I had an essay about Grima to write that I'd been putting off, and between that and all the great essays my fellow Grimleal scholars have been putting out recently, I decided to sit down and finally get it done.

So here you go. An analysis of Grima's difficulties with directly killing people.

Okay, so I’ve been thinking about this for quite some time, because one of my favorite things to explore when it comes to Grima is the gap between their villain act, which they actively play up in front of others in both Awakening and FEH, and their true feelings, which are hinted at in Awakening (particularly through the Future Past DLC) and made even clearer in FEH— their own evil actions are repulsive to them, and they wish they could live normally among humans, but they don’t believe they have any choice but to be the monster that “the fell dragon, Grima” is supposed to be. They are committed to this “fell dragon” character, to putting on a show for everyone, and they are so good at it that it’s easy to overlook that they… uh… aren’t very good at killing anyone important. Not directly, anyway.

Sure, Grima is responsible for numerous deaths. But what is their actual kill count? Well, in Awakening’s main game… zero. (Unless you count Chrom, but, as we witness, that was not a voluntary act on their part; Validar took control of their body. You could also make the argument that Grima “claiming the sacrifice” at the Dragon’s Table counts, but the problem with that is, although it’s obvious that Grima accepts the life force of the Grimleal members as a sacrifice, it’s not at all clear whether or not Grima personally kills them. Although it’s possible that they did off screen, it’s also possible that Validar killed them, or that they were ordered to take their own lives; there’s no reason Grima would have had to lay a hand on them.) In the Future Past, it’s… one, maybe one and half (Naga’s spirit, and Tiki, but only in body. More on this later.)

And it’s not as though Fire Emblem shies away from showing villains directly murdering people, Even in Awakening itself, the intro to Chapter 9 shows Aversa killing a Plegian soldier for delivering an unsatisfactory report, so it wouldn’t have been out of place to let Grima stab a few NPCs as a show of brutality. Especially seeing as Grima is the evil dragon final boss. As early as Mystery of the Emblem, we can see Medeus killing his cleric hostages to restore his own health if you fail to rescue them before trying to defeat him, and as recently as Engage, we get a whole cutscene of Sombron eating Hyacinth. Fantasy violence my beloved <3

Anyway, the point is, Grima could have been written to be much more violent and I don’t think anyone would have complained. Instead, though, Grima repeatedly— and consistently across the series— tries to avoid engaging in direct combat.

Let’s start with what Grima does in the main game of Awakening. We know that Risen pursue Lucina into the past, because we see them fall out of the portal with her in Chapter 1. We also know that those Risen, as well as the others that are appearing throughout the land, are not being directly controlled by Grima, because later in Chapter 13, as the Shepherds are leaving Plegia after meeting with Validar, Aversa, and the Hierophant, they are pursued by more skilled Risen, and Frederick notes that “Either they are learning our ways, or someone is commanding them…” So… It seems that sending the Risen—with or without specific orders—to attack while Grima is not themself present is a favored tactic.

But what about when Grima is present? Take a look at the Endgame: Grima chapter. Yes, you eventually get to engage Grima in direct combat. But not immediately. What Grima does first is…

Grima attacks the Shepherds with dark spikes from a distance, reducing everyone’s hp to 1. Now, here’s what happens next: Grima attempts to possess their past self, Robin hears the voices of their friends and breaks free, Naga heals everyone back to full health, and then the fight against Grima begins… Except actually, the Shepherds have to get to Grima first, because they’re at the top of the map and they’re not budging. Naga warns them that “Grima’s servants will beset [them] to no end.” and she’s not kidding. Grimleal reinforcements will spawn infinitely, and they can hit pretty hard. Even with everyone starting at full health, it’s possible to lose units to these Grimleal soldiers if Grima isn’t defeated quickly. Can you imagine what would happen if Naga hadn’t healed the Shepherds first?

Well, I’d guess that they’d probably all die to the Grimleal without Grima having to face them up close. Which was probably what Grima was going for.

This isn’t the only time Grima tries the dark spikes trick, either. Grima attempts this exact same move in the Future Past 3 when they face Lucina, Severa, Laurent, and Gerome.

Grima announces “With the next blow, I will kill you.” and then demands that they hand over the Fire Emblem as well as the gemstone they hold. The threat is very real. But…

Given that at 1hp, a gust of wind could take the kids out, would it not have been easier and faster to kill them and just loot their bodies immediately? And yet Grima lets the kids have an extended discussion about sacrifice, and even suggests that Lucina would indeed buy a little more time by running… Again, I cannot stress enough that Grima should be able to finish them off in one hit at this point.

So the plan was almost certainly to back off and let the Risen do the actual killing, even though that would be a lot less efficient under the circumstances. And when Chrom and the Shepherds arrive, Grima immediately turns their attention to them, saying “If it’s a reunion you seek, my soldiers shall welcome you on my behalf.” Then they once again pick a spot at the back of the map and refuse to move from it, forcing the Shepherds to fight through the Risen in order to engage Grima in combat at all.

And sure, Grima has some excuses. “I was hoping not to have to flex any muscle,” they say right before the dark spikes attack, as if to justify why they didn’t do it sooner. And of course they taunt Lucina over having to choose to whether to run as her friends sacrifice themselves for her or to stay and fight and die with them. “I must say I shall enjoy this either way!” Yes, Grima, we get it, you’ve made it very clear that you’re an arrogant asshole.

But is arrogance really all there is to it? If we look at what Tiki tells Grima in the good ending of the Future Past, it looks as though Grima’s arrogance has brought their own downfall. “If you had left Mount Prism alone, Grima, you might have stood a chance. Instead, you have brought the Awakening right to your feet.” However, when you think about it… Is Tiki’s continued existence not in itself a result of Grima’s repeated pattern of not really wanting to land a finishing blow? The game states that Grima did in fact kill Tiki… but only in body, not in spirit. This is, according to Tiki, because Robin intervened.

Now, the question I have is… Is it really possible that Robin could have intervened both against Grima’s will and without them having any idea? Honestly, it’s hard to tell exactly how aware Grima is of Robin’s resistance, because they lie about it a lot, e.g. stating that Robin’s spirit perished in sending Chrom back to his own world, even though just moments later, Robin is once again overpowering them. So, keeping in mind that Grima is a liar, was Grima really arrogant to leave Tiki’s body in Ylisstol, and to not make sure that her spirit was fully destroyed? Or was Robin simply able to capitalize on Grima’s propensity towards backing off?

Because surely the only way Grima could be unaware that Robin had acted against them is if Robin hadn’t actually acted against them. I don’t think I believe that Grima really wanted Tiki gone. Naga, sure—longtime nemesis and all. But if Grima had truly cared about seeing Tiki’s existence destroyed… Well, I doubt Robin could have interfered that much.

But maybe it could still be a matter of arrogance. Maybe Grima just didn’t think Tiki’s spirit could do anything with Naga’s spirit gone, and thus didn't care to pay attention to her anymore once she seemed dead enough.

If that’s true, it doesn’t explain why Shadows of Valentia Grima exhibits the exact same habits when fighting Alm and Celica, despite never having been outside of the Thabes Labyrinth at this point in their life. As opposed to the various Terrors throughout the rest of the Labyrinth, which chase Alm (or Celica) down in the overworld to force a fight, Grima is immobile in their room, and will wait patiently there indefinitely until the player chooses to engage. You can even evacuate from the dungeon.

But if you do choose to fight Grima, it proceeds much like the battles against them in Awakening go. The main difference is that they actually will move from their starting position this time, if you position someone in their range. That still requires a fight against (proto-)Risen who are spawning in from the sides to stop your party’s advance.

So… Now it’s starting to look like Grima actively prefers this one particular trick… And it’s a fundamentally defensive maneuver, which makes perfect sense from SoV Grima’s standpoint (they were attacked out of nowhere, after all), but is not really an obvious standout strategy for Awakening Grima, whose taunts and threats suggest an aggression that would be better supported with a more offensive strategy… Consider, too, that Awakening Grima is in fact being even more defensive than their SoV iteration, since they don’t move towards you at all.

With all that in mind, it really, really looks like Grima doesn’t want to fight, especially in Awakening. Not that they don’t intend for the Shepherds to die—on the contrary, they’ve set everything up so that the Shepherds will eventually be overwhelmed—but that they don’t want to land the killing blow.

(And gee, I wonder what might be fueling their reluctance? Being controlled and made to kill your best friend by your own hand wouldn't be totally traumatic or anything, right?)

And then... Funny thing here, I’ve been procrastinating writing this essay for a long time. I originally started thinking about it shortly before the Depths of Despair banner was released in FEH, so imagine my surprise when I saw this characterization hold up in the writing of Fell Exalt Chrom’s Forging Bonds as well… The Grima there says that Chrom was the one to kill the rest of the Shepherds. Now, it’s pretty clear that it was through Grima controlling him, but that’s not the point. The point is that once again, Grima didn't have to do any direct killing.

Look, if it had only ever happened once, I could buy that maybe Grima was just underestimating their opponents, that maybe they thought they could get away without having to put very much work in. But for Grima to operate this way so many times, so consistently, and to their own detriment? No...

Grima doesn’t like direct combat. Grima has trouble even when it’s a fight they asked for.

And when you think about it, that makes their reaction to Robin choosing to land the final blow themself in the sacrifice ending all the more understandable.

“…YOU WOULD… NOT DARE!”

Because Grima would not dare. Grima has always preferred to let someone else land the final blow.

#grima #fire emblem awakening #fe13 #grima studies #honestly realizing that main game grima doesn't kill anyone kind of shook me #future past grima only has naga and tiki... neither of which we get to see on screen so tbh grima might have weaseled out of them too #expiration has 5 range after all. naga could have just taken some dragon breath to the face from afar. we truly have no idea what grima did #to my knowledge the only time we see grima actually try to KILL kill (not dark spikes 1hp em) is... rearmed grima in the forging bonds stor #not her specific forging bonds but the general overarching one for that banner #which i have major problems with for other reasons anyway #and which might be retconned by feh itself bc thrasir said arcane weapons should be avoided at all costs yet... so many rearmed heroes now #so i don't feel too bad ignoring that one #but yeah like... writing this essay made me feel for grima even more #um... you know that one quote that the robin who's part of the day of devotion duo with chrom has... #“Having someone to express your love to is an amazing thing. There IS more to life than constant battle!” #yeah. i think about that quote and i think about grima's defensive fighting style and i. feel things. #to exist always on the defensive... #such an exhausting life they lead

[timoothy]

[ID: A title that reads: It‘s A Loop. Next to it is a yellow goat. /ID END]

SUMMARY:

It's quite a day: Nearly getting hit by a truck, drenched in hot coffee and then asked to help get rid of a dead body. Thank god, Ted doesn't have to relive that day ever again. Right?

Or: Ted Spankoffski finds himself in a timeloop. And he's not alone.

to quote Emma Perkins in the 2018 hit musical The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals: "It's just a fucking loop?!"

CHAPTER 1: The Goat On The Intersection

#billted #spankwood #bill woodward #ted spankoffski #tgwdlm #hatchetfield universe #sk #*stumbling out of the word document covered in blood*: new fic alert! #been working on this for ages and i have three whole chapters now! #posting the first one now to pressure myself into writing more #this will work and i will not cry #going to try and update every week #even made a little banner! #i always wanted to do that heheheh #spent days not posting this bc i couldn’t think of a good title #(still haven’t managed but lost hope now) #also proofread this while sick in bed so if there are any embarrassing mistakes: look away

[daydreamerdrew]

The Incredible Hulk (1968) #277

#I like seeing actual conflict between Rick and Betty- Rick didn’t react at all when Bareet slapped Betty at the end of the last issue #I don’t think I agree with that Betty ‘never loved Bruce Banner for what he was- only for the safe secure life you hoped he’d give you’ #because I think that Betty must have actually loved Bruce to stay loyal to him for as long as she did #when the fact that he was transformed into the Hulk and continued to not be cured and to rampage made in increasingly unlikely #that he would ever be able to provide security for her #I think that a lot of her initial attraction to Bruce came down to that he was so different from her father #the kind of man her father would degrade as a ‘lily-livered milksop’ #that he wasn’t a soldier #but she also had a lot of admiration for his intelligence and faith in his good character #I think it would be reasonable for her to be just done after all this #but dismissing Bruce was just a ‘monster’ now and saying that the world would be better off without him is really extreme #actually Rick’s loyalty to Bruce has the basis that Bruce was a stranger who risked his life for Rick #whereas Betty actually knew Bruce as a person before he got transformed #marvel #betty ross #rick jones #my posts #comic panels

[haledamage]

you know, when I clicked on a video called “Making a Historically Accurate Gonzo Cosplay from The Muppet Christmas Carol” I wasn’t expecting a history lesson about Victorian labor conditions, or gendered buttons, or the usage of mercury in Victorian hat-making

but I am riveted

#rhi muses #I love a history lesson and I love a silly sewing project and this woman combines both of these while also having a really soothing voice #her name is nicole rudolph btw and I highly recommend #(alongside bernadette banner and rachel maksy and a bunch of others because apparently historical fashion youtube is my favorite place now) #also the best part about her historically accurate gonzo cosplay #is that it's pretty much just a piece by piece recreation of the actual outfit on the actual muppet just made for a person #because the clothes in muppet christmas carol are all incredibly accurate

[moe-broey]

Lucina thoughts 😔

#feh #like..... i actually can excuse skimpy/fanservicey armor and outfits. sometimes i DO think it's attractive and fun #but like didn't include what my sister said but 1: lucina is daughter (she made this point) #and 2. LUCINA SPECIFICALLY WOULD NOT FUCKING WEAR THAT #LIKE. FOR ME. that is the absolute deal breaker. speaking generally beyond luci being daughter #but like could you imagine. i dare not speak it into existence. but if they like. put edelgard in pussy out armor. #I WOULD HAVE TO START KILLING. SHE WOULD NOT FUCKING WEAR THAT ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ #OR EVEN. SULLY. IN A BRIDE DRESS FOR A BRIDE BANNER. HORRIFIC. PUT THAT BUTCH IN A SUIT NOW‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ #i feel that way about scarlet too. like she does seem more comfortable w perceived feminity #but please. put that butch in a suit. bedazzled by her. her suit would serve SO MUCH CUNT. #fe lucina

[osaemu]

i will never use this banner. ever

#sabs posts! #i just made it for fun #idk what to do with it now #i have a lot of banners that i made and never used.. #so i guess i'm just posting them now